by A. M. Pierre
“What?” She actually looked shocked.
“You heard me. Get your condescending, overbearing, arrogant butt out of my face. You’re upset. I realize that. But you need to realize I have been doing everything in my power to save them. You think I wanted to trap them in there? Yeah, that was all part of my master plan. I was sitting here all along, going ‘I could help my friends get away safely, but that would be too easy! Instead, I’m going to lead them into an insanely difficult situation from which I see no immediate escape. True, I could use my boundless intellect to come up with a better plan, but I just don’t think they’re worth it.’”
Alizée looked (was it possible?) ashamed. “Dice, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . .”
He didn’t feel like letting her stop him. “Do you know how hard it was to even get them this far when they’re barely walking? There’s guards at every corner, and with the off-duty ones called in more have been popping up every minute. So I’ve been watching all of my cameras while I’ve also been simultaneously manipulating every one of the enemy’s cameras—flipping them back and forth between still shots and live feeds. ‘But Dice, why not leave them on the still shots?’ Because there’s guards running around, too, duh! If their security guys saw an empty hallway when they knew there should be a guard, they would’ve been onto me. So here I am, juggling dozens of camera manipulations, finding new routes when the previous routes keep getting cut off, and keeping track of tons of guards who aren’t traveling in any sort of pattern—all while maintaining a perfectly calm tone to my voice even though I’m freaking out. Why? Why, you ask?!” He crashed back down in his chair, his eyes staring dully at the screens in front of him. “Because no one should hear fear from the person keeping them safe.”
Alizée bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean what I said about . . . that you . . .” She sighed. “I would never blame you. Not in my heart. I’m just worried.”
The smile crept back on his face even though his eyes looked slightly bloodshot. “Well, what are we sitting here moping for, then? We need to get our friends out, and, last I checked, moping and creating wickedly awesome rescue plans do not go hand in hand.” He didn’t even wait for a reply before he was pulling up new screens of information. “Okay, where to begin? Do we set up another covert infiltration? Create a distraction so huge the bad guys forget all about the two of them?”
Alizée opened her mouth, but Daisuke didn’t hear what she said. Probably because the pounding on the van’s back door drowned her out. Both of them whipped their heads toward the sound, then back toward each other. What? The voice they heard next was a stranger’s, but there was no mistaking its air of authority. “Sir, I need to see what’s in the back of your van.”
Their eyes widened, and Daisuke mouthed what he was sure Alizée was thinking, too.
Police.
Without a word, Daisuke started on his computers, keys clacking at an inhuman rate.
“What are you—” Alizée began.
He spared half a second to hold one finger up for silence—and she shut up. Progress! “I already have a plan in place for this eventuality . . . You’re not going to like it, though.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”
Daisuke ignored her and turned his earpiece back on but kept his voice low. “Okay, I got some bad news, guys. The cops are here and are questioning Mr. Brown. As he’s a suspicious man in a suspicious van, we have to assume they’re going to arrest him and impound the van. Fortunately, I have a plan to fix everything and get us back here as soon as possible.” He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, ‘as soon as possible’ means tomorrow morning.”
Alizée grabbed him by his shirt collar. “What?”
Daisuke pulled away and tried to focus on the screens in front of him. “I wish there was another way, but I just don’t see it. No matter what happens, we are coming back for you.”
“We know you are, Battousai. Do what you have to do.”
“Understood, Stony. I’m turning on an audio feed from the van’s exterior microphones to give us a final update on the situation. I will try to contact you one last time after that, but, if things go as sour as I’m expecting them to, I may disconnect without further notification. Battousai out.” Daisuke flipped the switch for the outside feed. He grimaced. It was going about as well as he’d expected.
“It’s a routine pick-up. I can show you the order manifest—”
“Step back from the vehicle, sir! [pause] That’s better. We’ve spoken with the security chief here. He reports no such pick-up.”
“But I’m telling you—”
[a sharp sound—a blow, of either fist or gun against face] “Stop talking, Mr. Brown. It’s embarrassing. We’ll be taking you in, but first I want to have a look in the back of your van.”
Daisuke had been ready for that. One press of a button and a translucent sheet of fabric slid down across the back entrance of the van. He looked at Alizée. “Don’t say a word and don’t move,” he whispered.
The doors behind them swung open. Daisuke froze—he didn’t dare turn his head, but he could move his eyes. Two men, both wearing the severe black uniforms of the New London Police, scrutinized the back of the truck. Even through the gauzy haze of the fairly-see-through fabric, they looked angry.
Daisuke kept his breathing quiet and steady, partly to keep his noise level down but mostly to keep his racing heart under control. The officers’ eyes swept coolly over every inch of the truck. Did the police department issue them all special contact lenses to make their eyes look extra piercing and threatening, Daisuke wondered, or was it listed as a job requirement? Ability to stare menacingly at suspects a must—extra points allotted if your gaze can literally make grown men wet themselves.
Still without moving his body, he slid his gaze over to Alizée. Her eyes were wide and scared, but she was holding perfectly still. A few more seconds, Alley Cat, and it’ll all be over . . . The van doors slammed back into place, and Daisuke let out a sigh of relief.
“It looks like you were telling the truth about it being empty.”
“See, it’s like I told you, officers. I’m here to—”
[another blow—harder this time] “I wasn’t finished. I still don’t believe you about anything else. Under the authority granted me by the Office of Peacetime Security Enforcement, I am placing you under arrest on suspicion of inciting and instigating unlawful activities. You had better be grateful we’re not charging you with worse. An unknown van with an unknown driver, parked near the home of an important person like Mr. Clarke? Sounds like the setup for a potential terrorist attack to me.” [metallic clicks—handcuffs]
[a new voice—also authoritative] “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” [a door slams]
“I will never understand you, Sam. Why do you insist on repeating that old school rubbish every time we nick someone?”
“It just feels right. They are still humans after all, and humans have rights—”
“Fine. Say your little magic charm if it makes you feel better, just stop going on about it, you’re doing my head in. And make yourself useful. Call all this in, and let them know we have a van what needs impounding.”
Well, that’s that. Daisuke turned off the outside feed, carefully avoiding Alizée’s gaze as he turned on the audio link to Ezio and Kaia. “That’s our cue, I’m afraid. Until we return, stay hidden, and stay safe. Oh, and as soon as I sign off, turn off your earpieces—no need making it easier for them to track you. We’ll be back tomorrow morning between 8 and 8:15. Turn them back on then.”
“Understood, Battousai. We will see you then.” On Daisuke’s screen, Kaia and Ezio’s feeds went dark.
Daisuke’s stomach churned, but it wasn’t because of their sit
uation. No, it was dread of the conversation he was about to have with Alizée. “Did you like my ‘make them see an empty van’ trick back there? Bit of projection-based illusory deception. Simplest explanation? Really awesome photo-realistic projections on high-tech screens. It’ll even work on mobile surfaces. Not mobile, like phones, but mobile as ‘in motion.’ See, I’ve made suits embedded with cameras that will display what’s behind you on the front of the suit, so you look almost see-through. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s light-years beyond what the Japanese are working on. I mean, yeah, I’m Japanese, but I meant the Japanese, not me Japanese. Anyway, about my projection system, over small areas, like the inside of this van, it can make people see whatever I want them to. I know it seems silly to install the visual masking technology without the audio, but the visual part was cooler. Plus, I kinda ran out of time to finish the sound dampening field before this mission. While we’re waiting to get impounded, I’ll finish setting up tomorrow’s recovery operation, and then we can both get some rest so we’ll be refreshed and ready to rescue Ezio and Kaia. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He risked a sideways glance at Alizée. She just stared at him with her jaw clenched and an inferno blazing behind her eyes. Daisuke shivered. Somehow the silence was worse than the yelling he’d feared. “Listen, I know you’re upset we left them behind, but—”
She held a finger up, a sarcastic mimicry of his gesture from earlier. “Upset? I’m not upset. ‘Upset’ was when you took my crème caramel from the fridge even though my name was clearly written on it. Leaving Ezio alone overnight in hostile territory—alone overnight with HER—does not make me upset. It makes me furious, livid, and ready to express myself through violence.” She leaned in until her nose was an inch away from his. “Is that clear enough for you?”
Daisuke gulped. “Crystal.”
“Good.” She cracked her knuckles. “So what’s your plan?”
“Right. The plan.” For a single terrifying moment, Daisuke couldn’t remember any of it. Mercifully, it came surging back a moment later. “It’s kind of simple and kind of amazing all at the same time. It plays on people’s suppositions and assumptions while manipulating them through some amazing tech I’ve invented, which in turn—”
“Forget I asked. Just tell me—will it work?”
Daisuke looked her straight in the eyes. “Yes. It will.”
“It better.” The rage lingered a moment longer, then vanished like a candle being snuffed out. All that remained was a girl who looked very small and fragile, like she was made of glass. “It’s just that I . . . I need Ezio to come back, you know, I . . .” She licked her lips and looked up at the roof of the van. Her eyes glistened with the reflected light from the computer screens. “I know the girl I was before I met him, and I do not like her. I know who I am now, with him. This girl, I barely like.” She dropped her gaze, and her eyes met his. “I can see her, Dice, the girl I will be if he does not come back. And I hate her with all my heart.”
“I guess that’s that, then.” Kaia tried to keep the smile out of her voice. She shouldn’t be happy. She was stuck in a crate. Armed guards could find them at any moment. Them.
Ezio flicked on a small LED lantern and set it in the middle of their temporary shelter. “I am afraid you will have to give a bit more care to my leg wound, as we will not have access to a proper doctor for some time. I believe there is a needle and thread in your first aid kit.”
Kaia immediately felt nauseous. Okay, not ideal, but an opportunity to prove myself a little. I can do this. She opened the first aid kit and stared wide-eyed at the gleaming metal instruments inside. I so can’t do this.
She felt Ezio’s hand on her arm. Fighting her gut reaction to pull away, she met his gaze. Two warm brown eyes smiled encouragingly at her. “I would not ask this if I thought it impossible. I have faith in you.”
She turned back to study the kit, if only to hide how flustered she felt. “Could you . . . help me? Tell me what to do?”
“Of course.” He scooted back a little, so he was sitting upright instead of slouching, but he winced sharply with the motion.
A wave of guilt swept over her. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault your leg is hurt again. If I hadn’t been so loud, none of this would have happened.”
“Kaia,” he said, his voice gentle. “There is no good to be found in placing blame. We are here now. We will deal with it. Together.” He winced again. “Sadly, it is not only my leg. I think that guard cracked a rib or two as well.”
He did? Kaia had assumed Ezio had been the one dealing out all the damage. Of course, she hadn’t seen much while gasping like a fish on the floor. She had, however, felt him tense whenever she touched his side on the way here. Idiot—I should have realized. Looking closer, even with the odd shadows thrown by the little lantern, she could see darker blotches on his face that weren’t shadows at all. She immediately wanted to make it all better somehow, but, at the same time, it was almost romantic. He got those wounds protecting me. “So what will I need?”
“I can pull all of the items out for you if you would like. It might be easier that way.”
“That’d be good, thanks.” Watching him pull out the antiseptic rinses and bandages wasn’t any big deal, but the gleaming metal items made her stomach flip a little, and when he pulled out the packet of needles, she instinctively grabbed for her pendant. The pendant that still wasn’t there. She put her hand down sheepishly.
Ezio was looking at her oddly. “May I ask why you do that?”
“Do what?” she said, playing dumb. Not like that’s hard.
“You usually wear a necklace.” He’d noticed! “I have seen you hold it sometimes.” Oh. He’d noticed that, too. “Is it comforting to you?”
Her mouth opened, but she choked. It sounded so childish, like she carried around a blankie to make her feel better. “I . . . I’d rather not say.”
“I understand. I am sorry I asked.”
He’d dropped it. He’d seen how it upset her, and he’d dropped it. No follow-up prying questions, no teasing remarks. Wow. That was so . . . so . . . cool.
Ezio winced again. What do you do for cracked ribs? Wrap them up? She’d have to help him take his shirt off, and then she’d have to wrap the bandages around his chest and his probable six-pack and— Jeez, focus! “Do we have any bandages to wrap your ribs up?”
“No. Sadly, there is little one can do besides take pain medicine.”
Shoot. But still, his knowledge of all this medical stuff was really impressive. “How do you know so much?”
He shrugged but looked like he instantly regretted the motion. “Training—and also experience. I am afraid it is not the first time this has happened.”
“On other missions?”
Ezio’s puppy eyes got even sadder than usual. “Yes. And other times.”
Silence hung in the air, so Kaia looked through the items he had pulled out. Something seemed to be missing, but she couldn’t . . . wait, that was it. No painkillers. “Are you crazy?”
He looked at her sharply, like he’d been wounded. “Why would you ask that?”
“N-No reason.” She waved her hands frantically as if they would deflect his glare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything, I was just wondering why you didn’t pull out any pain medicine.”
“Oh.” His features relaxed. “I did not think the lesser medicines in there would do much good, and I did not want to be incapacitated by the stronger ones.”
Kaia dug through the kit until she found the pill bottle. “It says it lasts for 6 hours.” She looked at her watch. “Dice said to be ready tomorrow morning at 8, and it’s only 7 now. You could take these pills twice and they’d have worn off by then. You need to take them.”
Ezio smiled. “Is that an order, Dr. Kaia?”
She grinned in return. “Yes, it is. I’m not,” she tried not to shudder, “going to sew up your
leg without you taking something. Plus, you’ll need your sleep, and this’ll help.”
He sighed, a mock sign of surrender. “Fine. I will take them.” He pulled a water flask from a pants’ pocket and gulped them down. From another pocket he pulled out a tiny sewing kit. “One thing we can say about Daisuke: he never lets us be unprepared.” He pointed to a tear near the bottom of his shirt. “And this way I can show you, before this medicine takes effect, a demonstration of what you will need to do.”
It had been thirty minutes now. Ezio looked like he was asleep, so the pain medicine must have been working well. Kaia stared down at the instruments in front of her for what seemed like the millionth time. She had to do this. She had to. He was counting on her.
She had already cut away the blood-soaked portion of his pants. She had already cleaned out the wound. She had already threaded the needle. What was she waiting for? It wasn’t like it was going to get any easier. She took a deep breath, positioned the needle, and pushed. His eyes flicked open, and he jerked a little. “I’m so sorry!” She said, pulling away.
“No, is okay.” It didn’t look like he was focusing properly. “Jus’ hold my leg down. I try not to move but is hard.”
Kaia repositioned herself, lying on her side so she could hold his leg down with her ribcage. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered.
Another flinch, accompanied by what sounded like a whimper.
She wiped away the sweat which threatened to roll down into her eyes. “Okay, I need you to focus on something else. Talk to me.”
“’bout what?”
“About anything.” An idea occurred to her, and, while she thought it might be cheating when he was doped up like this, she was too curious to let the opportunity pass. “Your life in Italy. Before you got to Mark’s Place.”
He stared into the distance. When he finally spoke, his voice had changed. It was rougher, huskier somehow, like the words crawled over jagged rocks before they escaped his lips. “I don’ remember ’fore I was 7. First memory is streets of Roma. I was begging. Sometimes had food. Sometimes clothes. That was nice. Not nice clothes, but nice having clothes.”