by C. A. Gray
But when Voltolini started hearing rumors of planes, in his paranoia he grew convinced that New Estonia was on to him, and he needed to prepare for war. He had plenty of troops, and plenty of “Deep Impact” weapons—but those would work just fine on Republic soil, since any human who didn’t know better would believe them to be real. He had a few manufacturers producing real bullets in mass quantities for foreign battles too, if it came to that.
What he still didn’t have was an Air Force, and he needed one, pronto.
Part of the problem was lack of jet fuel. Most international trade had ceased with the Crash. The other problem was severe lack of maintenance, and therefore very few people who still even possessed the skills necessary to restore the aircraft to working order.
But when Voltolini says he wants something done, as the Tribunal knew, he wants it done yesterday.
Restorations to the Potentate’s private helicopter had only just begun a week ago, when the shipment of jet fuel came in to fly it. So far, it had undergone preliminary testing only. But the Potentate did not travel by bullet train with the masses, and there was no way they’d arrive at the execution site by car in time for the evening broadcast. So, helicopter it was.
Kurtzman spoke rapidly into the microphone in his jacket. “Prepare the helicopter for a journey to the east coast, with enough jet fuel on board. Yes. Yes.” He paused. “I need six available agents to the safe room to transport the Potentate to the helicopter.” He paused again, and his face contorted. “How many?” He swore. “What, is this guy superhuman? Why the hell can’t we kill one man? …No, never mind, that was rhetorical—”
He stopped speaking abruptly when Voltolini, tired of receiving his information second hand, reached into Kurtzman’s lapel and pulled out his microphone. He spoke into it himself.
“Are the agents on their way?”
“Yes, Your Excellency,” replied Williams, the head of Secret Service.
“Good. Give me the update.”
Williams was no-nonsense, which was what Voltolini liked about him. “So far thirty seven officers down. No trace of the fugitives, but they can’t be far.”
It took a lot to give Voltolini pause, but he swallowed before he spoke again. “How can there be no trace of them? Where are their brainwaves, idiot?”
“Not on the map, Your Excellency. Which could mean they’re dead, but we’d have heard a report about that.”
“None of them are on the map? What about Brandeis’s parents?”
“Not them either.”
Voltolini’s arm trembled, and he fought the urge to crush the microphone. Just then, the six agents appeared in the hallway, all bearing semiautomatic weapons and jogging in unison. “One more thing,” Voltolini said to Williams, “make sure the helicopter is equipped with regular bullets. Not deep impact. Same for the execution tonight: we will use regular bullets.”
There was a pause. Of course Williams would have thought this a strange request, but he knew better than to question the Potentate.
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Voltolini thrust the microphone back at Kurtzman. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 29: Jackson
Two things went through my mind when Kate wrapped her arms around me.
The first was how much I’d wished for that moment when I was on her trail, afraid I’d never see her alive again.
The second was Grandfather’s voice, admonishing me after two older apprentices had successfully ambushed me in the woods. I’d eluded them for hours on end, and I’d started to get hungry and tired. When they came upon me, I’d just opened my pack, rummaging around for food.
There will come a time for rest, but this is not it, Grandfather had scolded. Let down your guard for an instant, and your enemy will come upon you. Remember that, Jackson. It may save your life one day.
It was a miracle that we all finally got off the palace roof. When Kate’s mom started to flip out up there, I really didn’t know what was going to happen—Grandfather had also taught me that while it’s possible to control your own mind, you can’t control anybody else’s, and you’d be foolish to try.
If she’d decided to stay stuck, there would have been nothing I could have done except try to escape through the palace itself. Despite the agents’ fake bullets, that still would have been suicide.
The moment my feet touched down on the palace lawn, Charlie said in an unnaturally high voice, “Um, Jackson?”
I looked up and scanned the area around us. Seven or eight more agents came from all different directions. Some of the others must have alerted them to our location before they’d fallen themselves.
“Their bullets are fake,” I reminded Charlie. “Divide and conquer: Charlie and Dad,” I said, since there wasn’t time for proper introductions, “take those on the far left. Kate, center. I’ll take the right.”
Kate hit her first target; she really was a natural. Her father only had a pistol and missed—which was why I’d put him and Charlie together. Charlie couldn’t miss easily, with a semiautomatic at reasonable range. I positioned my rifle and picked off the rest of them.
“They just keep coming, though,” Kate’s dad murmured to himself as the last of them fell.
“That’s why we’ve got to get moving,” I agreed. I untied the edge of the rope we’d used to rappel so I could pull it free from the palace roof, winding it up to stash it in my pack just in case we needed to use it again. “So far it’s just been agents, but if we stick around much longer, the military’s gonna show up.” I was surprised they hadn’t already, actually. “Come on.”
I led the way, retracing the steps I’d taken after I’d left the man I’d had to carjack to get to the palace in the first place. Poor guy. I hated doing that, and I didn’t think I’d been convincing at all, aside from the fact that I had a gun. But I guess, given the gun, he wasn’t evaluating my acting ability too stringently.
It was mid-morning by now, and the sun was high, which meant not a lot of shadows. Fortunately the palace was at the top of a hill surrounded by forest, though—all we had to do was get to the forest, and we could disappear. The problem was, judging by how long the car ride had been, I really had no idea how long it would take us on foot to even get to another major city… and once we did, then we’d have to catch a bullet train. Five fugitives all together on public transportation? That was sure to go well.
Above, a helicopter circled, and my heart sank.
“Stop!” I commanded. “Stay down!” I flattened against the wall of an adjacent building to the palace. It might be a stable or a menagerie. The others copied me.
“What?” Kate huffed beside me.
I pointed at the helicopter. “I bet you the Potentate is on board. And that helicopter is old. I don’t think it’s going to shoot blanks.”
Kate didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “What are we gonna do?”
“What about one of those?” Charlie said.
We all turned around to see him pointing through the window of the building we were leaning against. I peered inside: apparently it was neither stable nor menagerie, but a garage. I counted ten sports cars. Charlie turned to me with gleaming eyes.
“If we can get inside without being seen, I can hot wire one! At least I think I can…”
“Great idea,” I said. But how to get inside? I inspected the perimeter of the building where we hid, hoping not to have to break the window. I wanted to call as little attention to our location as possible. But surely the Potentate wouldn’t expect any thieves at the palace—what thief would be so stupid? I reached up and tried the window. Sure enough, it opened easily.
“Ha ha!” Charlie exulted, looking at me. “Give me a hand up, will you?”
I obeyed, folding my hands together to make a boost for him, and he stepped on them, crawling in like a pro.
“Done this a few times?” I asked him, raising my eyebrows.
He looked back through the w
indow at his sister and grinned. “Kate and I both have. Come on, sis, you said you wanted to learn how electronics work, right? I’ll teach you the basics.”
“I didn’t say that,” Kate muttered. “I said I wanted you to do it for me, and only for broadcasting.”
“Says the former damsel in distress?” I teased her. “I thought you wanted to learn how to do everything yourself.”
She glowered at me. “Not everything. I have my limits.” But then she stepped toward me anyway and huffed, “Fine.” I folded my hands for her too, and boosted her up to the ledge. She hoisted herself up the rest of the way and swung her legs around to the other side with easy grace.
“Looks like you have crawled through a lot of windows in your day!”
“Hey. I used to be a rebel as a kid, remember?” She winked at me as she disappeared into the garage.
“We’ll stay out here,” declared Kate’s father to no one in particular, his arms wrapped around his wife. It was the first time I’d really looked at Kate’s mom since we’d gotten off the palace roof, but now that I did, it was obvious that she was still in shock.
Her dad went on, “You three just… come and get us when you’re finished.”
I shook my head. “If that helicopter sees you here, it’ll gun you down. And then they’ll send agents straight into the garage and do the same thing to Kate and Charlie. We’re gonna have to get out of sight.”
Kate’s father took a deep breath in, and out again. He looked at his wife, who wore a vacant stare, sort of a caricature of the expression of most of the Republic’s citizens.
“I just don’t think she’s got much more in her,” he murmured.
I sighed and bit my lip. If Charlie was successful, all she’d have to do was get into the car as we sped away, and keep her head down. We just had to keep her alive until then.
I looked around to see if there was any cover nearby that wouldn’t require any additional expenditure of energy. I didn’t see anything, though. We’d have to climb through the window once they got the car going, but maybe a few extra moments of rest would be enough for Kate’s mother to recharge. I hoped.
“I’ll stay out here with you, just in case any agents happen to see us here,” I conceded finally. I could still pick them off with the rifle, though that would give away our position. If Kate and Charlie got more than ten feet away from us, that would give away our position too, since Kate had the only jammer. So I hoped they’d be quick. “What we’ll have to do, then, is keep an eye on those helicopters. Just rotate around the sides of the garage opposite to the side they’re on, and maybe with some luck they won’t see us.” Then I called through the window, “How long do you think this will take, Charlie?”
“He’s got a vintage!” Charlie whooped back though the window. “I was hoping he did. Give me another… five minutes!”
I didn’t know what he meant by vintage, but the length of time was all I cared about anyway. I could keep Kate’s parents alive for five minutes. I hoped.
“Hurry up!” I called back.
Chapter 30: Kate
I jumped down from the windowsill to the ground inside the garage, and noted that there was enough light filtering through the windows that I could still see. Charlie peered inside each of the cars in turn, one by one. He was looking for something, though I didn’t know what.
“‘Course, we can’t do this without doing some serious damage to a very nice vehicle,” he murmured, more to himself than to me, “but as it belongs to the Potentate, I don’t feel too bad.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“An older model,” Charlie said. “Car collectors tend to like vintage, but I need something really, really vintage for this to work. Like from back before 1999.”
“Are you serious?” I couldn’t imagine anything that old would still run. “You can tell just by looking at the panel how old they are?”
“Shoot, you can tell looking at the body of the car,” he told me, “they’re distinctive. But so far, none of these…” He gestured at the walls. “Find me some tools while I look, will you? It’s a garage, they’ve got to be in here somewhere.”
“What do you need?” I asked, following where he pointed. The garage looked pretty pristine and empty except for the cars, some large barrels I could only assume contained gasoline, and oil cans. But I kept looking.
“Wire cutters and strippers, if you know what those look like. Pliers, a flathead and a Phillips-head screwdriver. A hammer. Gloves if you can find them, and electrical tape would be awesome.”
“Wow,” I murmured. “Glad we didn’t try this in a parking lot, then.”
“I’d have improvised. I’m awesome like that.”
Bingo. I found a little storage shed with a toolbox inside. “Think I found most of it,” I told him.
“Good, because I think this beauty will work!” Charlie opened the driver’s side door to a long, shiny black car triumphantly. “It’s a 1996 Jaguar XJS! Never thought I’d see anything like it in real life…”
I just grabbed the whole toolbox and brought it to him, climbing in to the passenger side of the vehicle. Charlie then put out a hand, not even looking at me.
“Flathead screwdriver, please!”
I fished around in the toolbox and found it, placing it in his palm. He inserted it where the ignition key should go, and stuck out his hand to me again. “Hammer, please!” I gave it to him, and he pounded the flathead into the ignition.
Jackson’s voice called through the window, “How long do you think this will take, Charlie?”
“He’s got a vintage!” Charlie shouted back to him. “I was hoping he did. Give me another… five minutes!”
“Okay, hurry up!” Jackson called.
“Why are they waiting outside?” I murmured to Charlie.
“No idea, but we can blast through the door like old school action movie heroes in a second here.” Charlie turned the flathead, cranking with both fists. It turned, but nothing else happened. He seemed to think it should have, and frowned.
“Okay. Phillips head, please.” I fished around in the toolbox and handed it to him. Then Charlie set about unscrewing the screws in the front plastic paneling above and below the steering column. As he worked, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
“So did you and Will break up, or what?”
My mouth fell open. “How did you know—?”
“Because you’re looking at that Jackson guy like rainbows shine out of his ass. I figured something must’ve happened.”
I rolled my eyes. “Charming as ever, Charles.”
“I try.” He finished unscrewing the panels, and removed them. Underneath there were a mess of wires. “Okay, find the two red wires. See them? That’s the power.” He reached another hand out to me. “Gloves?”
I found some, and handed them to him. He put them on, and held out a gloved hand next. “Wire cutters?”
“Not sure what those look like,” I said, rummaging around in the toolbox.
He looked over in the toolbox in my lap, and picked them out, saying, “These. Now, cut both ends of the red wires, and you want to strip away the insulation.” He started scraping it away as he spoke.
I felt the need to add, “Will and I are just taking a step back, that’s all. Jackson and I aren’t… anything.”
Charlie glanced at me sideways but didn’t comment on this right away. “Pliars?” I handed them to him, and he said, “Okay, now twist the ends of the two opposing red wires together,” he said as he demonstrated. “Next, brown wires. These connect to the starter. Cut these and strip them.” He demonstrated that too. Then he added, “Jackson is definitely a badass, I’ll give you that. But I always thought Will was too good for you anyway.”
“Thanks, Charlie!” I blinked, stung.
“I meant I thought he was too good for the old you,” Charlie amended. “You used to be super annoying, you know? You thought you wer
e so amazing just because you were famous and pretty, like the whole world owed you something for it. Basically you were just… decorative and useless. But now, I mean… you’re kind of becoming a badass yourself.” He gave me a sideways grin. “So maybe you don’t need either of them, I don’t know.”
I was speechless. Nobody had ever described me that way… at least not to my face. I was at once appalled and embarrassed, yet also a little flattered.
Charlie didn’t think I was useless anymore.
When he finished stripping down the brown wires, he touched the two ends together. The engine turned over.
“Yes!” Charlie crowed, giddy. “All right, electrical tape, quick!” He reached a hand toward me. I rummaged through the toolbox as fast as I could, found it and gave it to him. As he wrapped the ends of the brown wires, he said, “Okay, get the others in here! Let’s blow this joint!”
Chapter 31: Jackson
Kate’s dad coaxed her mother toward the garage window, one labored step at a time. He glanced up at me, apologetic.
“She’s close to a breakdown,” he told me, as if I couldn’t see that for myself. Another shuffle, and he added, “I wish you could have met her under different circumstances. In the last day and a half, she found out her daughter was alive, but a traitor, and then that we were duped by the government we adored, abducted and nearly executed… and now suddenly we’re fugitives ourselves…” He shook his head, ducked it low and encouraged her to shuffle forward again before looking back up at me. “Denise isn’t a bad person. It’s just all too much for her.”
“Denise?” I asked. “What’s your name?”
“Albert. Sorry.” He smiled at me weakly. “After all we’ve been through together, I haven’t even introduced myself properly.”
Since Denise wasn’t helping us much, Albert crawled in the window first, and I lifted her up on my side and shoved her through while he caught her in the interior. She understood what was going on enough to grasp the windowsill and make a feeble effort to pull, but there was no muscle strength in it. Albert and I did all the work.