Firewall

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Firewall Page 4

by R. M. Olson


  The second thing she noticed, which probably should have been the first thing, actually, were the five bodyguards, standing unobtrusively against the walls, weapons out of sight but bulging menacingly from their pockets and holsters under their jackets.

  And finally, she noticed the man sitting behind the huge, opulent desk.

  And the moment she met his eyes, she knew, gut-deep and without question, that this was Grigory.

  There was nothing about him, taken separately, that would have set him apart from the people around him. His black hair was going to grey, neatly trimmed and falling to his shoulders, his face slightly creased with age, the muscular bulk of him almost hidden under his dark jacket and black shirt.

  But one look at his face told her exactly who this was.

  There was a cold cruelty in his eyes, scowl-lines on his face, a simmering rage behind his calm demeanour. He had an arrogant set to his posture that showed he belonged on this luxurious ship.

  Hell, belonged on it? The whole damn thing belonged to him.

  And every instinct in her body told her that this wasn’t a person you’d want to cross.

  Well, unless you were a hell of a lot more stir-crazy than even she was right at this moment.

  He looked up at them and smiled, a perfunctory sort of smile that did nothing to disguise the hungry ruthlessness in his face.

  “Masha,” he said, standing and pushing back his seat. “I’m so glad you could make it. Are you going to introduce me to these others?”

  “Of course,” said Masha, all politeness. “This is Jez, Lev, Tae, Ysbel and Tanya, and their children, Olya and Misko.”

  “You bring children into my office, Masha Volkova?” Grigory said with amusement, looking down at them.

  Olya seemed to have come to the same conclusion as Jez about this man, and she stood between her mothers’ legs, holding tight to her younger brother, eyes wide and frightened.

  One look at Tanya’s face, though, and Jez knew that Grigory wasn’t the only person in that office you wouldn’t want to cross.

  “As I recall, you brought children onto your ship previously, which is why we are here having this discussion,” said Masha, her voice polite, but businesslike. “Peti?”

  “Of course,” he said smoothly. He turned to one of the bodyguards and made a quick motion with his head, and the woman left the room out a door behind the desk. Out of the corner of her eye Jez caught the slight stiffening in Tae’s posture, the way his breathing had gone shallow and quick. And then, a moment later, the woman returned leading someone behind her.

  There was a dark hood over the figure’s face. Behind Jez, Tae sucked in a quick breath and Tanya made an almost involuntary move forward.

  The guard stepped back, and Grigory gestured, a small smile on his face. “Go on. Show them. As my friend Masha said, she’s kept her end of the bargain.”

  One of the guards pulled the hood back, revealing the terrified face of a girl Jez recognized from weeks ago, in a hangar-bay in Prasvishoni. Tae started forward, but Tanya grabbed his arm.

  “Show them. She’s fine.” Grigory was still smiling expansively. “You’re fine, aren’t you, little girl?”

  Peti gave a small, frightened nod.

  Jez felt slightly sick.

  There was steel in Masha’s voice when she spoke. “So,” she said. “Do you hood all your guests? You told me—”

  “She’s fine.” Grigory waived a dismissive hand. “She’s been treated well, look at her. She was half-dead from starving when we picked her up.”

  “Nevertheless, I’d like to talk to her alone.”

  “Of course. As soon as we’re done meeting here. She will be waiting just outside the door. I have nothing to hide from you.” He nodded at the guard, and Peti was pulled out of the room.

  Jez glanced back. Tae’s face was strained, his fists clenched.

  She didn’t know much about Tae’s life before he joined the Ungovernable, but she knew that Peti and that other kid, Caz, had been basically the closest thing he’d ever had to family.

  “So, Masha,” said Grigory after a moment. “As you can see, I’ve kept my part of the bargain. She’s safe, and will be sent back to Prasvishoni the moment we are finished here, if you like. And now,” he gestured to a chair across from his desk, “I believe we have something to discuss.”

  “So I have been informed,” murmured Masha, but Jez knew her well enough to see the tension, almost hidden, in her posture, the tightness in the muscles of her jaw.

  Jez glanced around the room quickly.

  As far as she knew, Masha hadn’t told the others. Jez hadn’t either—for some reason, she hadn’t said anything about the conversation she and Masha had had weeks ago in a dark corner behind a university building they were on their way to break into.

  Masha’s parents had been killed, she’d said. Murdered. By the government, and the mafia.

  And the man back at the hangar bay had called Masha something—Mari, he’d called her.

  If she told Lev, he’d probably be able to figure it out, find out exactly who this Mari person was and how she’d turned into Masha, and what had happened to Masha’s parents. But …

  Well, but somehow that would have felt strangely like a betrayal. Because Masha hadn’t had to tell her that. She’d done it because—well, Jez still wasn’t exactly certain why, because it didn’t actually make sense, but it had almost felt like she’d done it to make Jez feel better. To trust Jez with her own painful secret, after Jez had told hers.

  And so she hadn’t mentioned it, the entire two weeks they’d been preparing for this. She figured Masha’d tell if she felt like it.

  And Masha never had.

  And now, standing in the office of the mafia krestnaya, perhaps the most powerful person outside of the Svodrani System government, and looking at Masha, Jez wondered if maybe she’d made a mistake.

  She shrugged inwardly.

  If she had, well, probably a little late for second thoughts now.

  She couldn’t seem to hold back her grin, and nervous energy pulsed though her like a damn heartbeat.

  “These people,” Grigory gestured at the rest of them. “They are your people, Masha?”

  “They are my associates,” said Masha calmly.

  Grigory studied them, his eyes narrowed. There was a look in his eyes, a calculating look of someone who believed killing them would be as easy as snapping his fingers, and for just one moment Jez was desperate for him to damn well try. She shot him back her best cocky grin, every muscle in her whole body on edge. He paused, looking at her a little more closely. She gave him a wink, and his face darkened slightly.

  “And I assume you find them useful?” he asked again after a moment, directing the question at Masha.

  She gave him one of her bland smiles. “As I said, they’re my associates. They do have certain talents, and we’ve worked together for some time now. I value their contributions.”

  Grigory glanced over them again, expression showing nothing of what he was thinking.

  “Alright,” he said at last, leaning forward, his hands on his desk. “Masha. I will get straight to the point. You want something. It’s been, what, three, four months? And in that time, you’ve destroyed my relationship with Vitali Dobrev, you’ve set off an arms race between me and the government, you’ve broken thousands of political prisoners, including my people and people belonging to my rivals, out of prison, and you’ve taken out Lena’s entire smuggling cartel.” He smiled expansively, but there was a cruelty in his face. “And I am looking for a way to re-set the balance.”

  He leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. “When you pulled your stunt with Dobrev, both the government and I tried to use you to our advantage. And we were both left looking the fool. I can’t help but respect your intelligence, even as I suffer from it. And so the balance of power has shifted, and both the government and myself are scrambling to find the advantage, and desperate people will do desper
ate things, and, as always, people will die.” He studied Masha as he spoke, as if trying to gage her reaction, but of course the damn bastard looked as calm as if she’d just woken up, eaten a good meal, and sat down for a morning of paperwork.

  “Of course, I’m telling something you already know, aren’t I? None of this was an accident. But you know something else too. The government is planning something. They want an advantage. And I believe you know what they are planning.” He leaned across the desk. “But then, I’m also certain you know how badly they want to kill you. You’re very smart, yes, but they are very, very powerful. Me though? I’m not like them. I admire what you’ve done. And I would like to discuss how we can help each other.”

  Masha looked at him for a long time, and again Jez noticed that faint, unfamiliar tension in her. “Grigory,” she said at last. “You are correct. I know a great deal about what the government is planning to do to angle for power. I’m very certain that I can give you information that you would find pricelessly valuable. But—” she paused a moment. “I will unfortunately need some answers from you before I do that.” She glanced behind her, her eyes brushing over them, and for a moment the look on her face almost jolted Jez.

  It wasn’t her normal pleasant expression. Her face looked dead, as if there was no emotion there because there was no emotion in her whole body.

  “This is going to be a very long conversation, I’m afraid,” she said blandly, turning back to Grigory. “And we’ve had a long flight. Perhaps you could find a place for my colleagues to rest and refresh themselves while we talk?”

  Something cold prickled in Jez’s stomach.

  She’d never seen that expression on Masha’s face before. But knowing what she knew—well, she wasn’t certain what Masha was planning, but she had the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that it probably wasn’t anything good.

  Grigory didn’t take his eyes off Masha’s face, and Jez got the sense that he was trying to read her just as hard as Jez was, and with just as little success.

  At last he nodded. “As you say. You’ve had a long flight, and I’m certain our young guest would like to catch up with her friends before we send her home.”

  “Masha,” said Lev in a level tone, stepping forward. “Perhaps you should come back with us. I’m certain you’re as tired as we are. The conversation will go better, I believe, after you’ve refreshed yourself.”

  Masha turned to him and studied him for a long moment, with that same unfamiliar expression on her face. At last she shook her head.

  “I appreciate your consideration, Lev, but no. I believe I will be fine.”

  Jez glanced between them, and for a moment she didn’t know if Lev would push the issue, and what Masha would do if he did.

  And she realized, suddenly, that she didn’t know Lev, not nearly as well as she thought she did. Because the Lev she’d thought she knew, the Lev she’d kissed and harassed and—well, and almost maybe started to have feelings for—no, she wasn’t going to think about that, because that had been a mistake, maybe the worst damn mistake she’d ever made in her life, and that was saying something—since their job in the university, had been replaced by this Lev, cold, and clinical, and completely devoid of any emotion other than a sort of distant curiosity.

  And she had no idea what this Lev was capable of.

  Lev and Masha were still watching each other, neither dropping their eyes, and she could feel her muscles tensing. Then, at last, Lev turned aside with a wry smile.

  “Very well, Masha. As you say, you are in the best position to judge that.”

  Grigory was glancing between the two of them, but now he nodded, and gestured with his head to two of the guards.

  “Take them to the guest suites, please,” he said. “Give them the amber suite, I think. Take our young guest there as well, I’m sure they’ll be happy to see her.”

  The guards stepped forward, and one of them motioned for them to follow him out the door, while the other fell into place behind them. Grigory tapped a button on his desk, and the lock on the heavy door clicked, and for the first time Jez realized they’d been locked in, and the thought sent an irrational jolt of panic through her. Then the guard pulled open the door and led them out.

  They walked back down the oppressively-luxurious corridor a few metres and through another door, and then they stepped through into a wide, open space that skirted the edge of a large room.

  Suddenly, Jez forgot her panic.

  Because this? This was beautiful.

  It was a gambling hall, but a gambling hall like nothing she’d ever seen before. The tables were a rich green stone, the carpets the dark of deep space, with patterns of gold threaded through them that ran up the columns like spreading vines. And yes, the last time she’d seen spreading vines they’d been trying to actually eat her, but still … The walls were shades of the same blue-black as the carpet and, and there were markers on the tables for all the gambling games she knew and some she didn’t. And she’d been pretty certain she knew them all. To one side was the long, low bar where bottles of not just sump, but all sorts of drinks, most of which looked like something that would cost almost too much to actually drink but she’d damn well love to try, were laid out temptingly in dark bottles, and delicate glasses hung from the low ceiling of the bar.

  OK, so this wasn’t her beautiful ship, and she wasn’t flying.

  But hell, it was a close second. And every part of her, every restless nerve in her body, wanted to stop right where she was and sit down at at one of those tables.

  She could feel the grin spreading across her face, so wide she could hardly contain it.

  “Jez,” muttered Ysbel warningly.

  She realized she’d already come to a stop, staring longingly at the gorgeous, elegant tables, with the smooth gambling tokens she could almost feel in her hands.

  “You play?” asked the guard behind her, amusement in her voice, and Jez almost started in surprise. She turned, still grinning.

  “Have done, once or twice.”

  The guard gave her a speculative look, face slightly amused. “I’m guessing you never played in a place like this.”

  “Nope. Backwater kabaks, mostly.”

  The guard raised her eyebrows. “Well, here we’re used to people who can handle a loaded credit chip, if you take my meaning.”

  “Ah, I can always pay what I play,” said Jez. She was still grinning, and the sight of the gambling hall was a little bit like a drug, and she could sure as hell use a drug after the last couple weeks.

  “Well,” said the guard, “maybe if you end up staying a day or two, the boss man will invite you down here. It’s happened before.” She shrugged slightly. “Might be a bit much for you, if you’ve only ever played in backwaters, but …”

  Jez’s cheeks hurt from grinning, but she couldn’t stop. “Well, you know what they say, never know ‘til you try.”

  Tae sighed and grabbed her elbow. “Jez. Come on. We’re not here to gamble, for the Lady’s sake.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, then shot a wink at their guard over her shoulder. “You ever want to throw some tokens—”

  Tae shook his head and pulled her forward after the first guard.

  It took only a few minutes more to arrive at what must have been the guest quarters, but honestly, Jez was hardly paying attention. Because if she had to be on this damn ship, she wanted to be back there in the gambling hall, and yes, she knew she probably wouldn’t be this desperate for gambling chips and something to drink if it wasn’t for the fact that she was so completely stir-crazy that she might actually go out of her damn mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact that—well, anyways, if it wasn’t for the fact that even looking at that damn idiot Lev still made her stomach twist uncomfortably. And she wasn’t sure if it was because she still couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to kiss him, or if it was because she was going to actually be sick. Because there was that other thing too, the morning she’d woken up in his cot in th
e Ungovernable, with her head nestled into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her and that lost look on his face even in his sleep, and she’d looked up at him and for half a moment she was going to kiss him awake, slowly, and maybe they’d lock the door and they wouldn’t leave his cabin for the rest of the damn day.

  And then she’d remembered, and she’d thought she might throw up.

  Because she’d actually come into his room the night before—before he’d stopped her, asked her in that desperate, pleading tone she’d never heard from him before, if they could talk in the morning, and she’d fallen asleep with him holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping him sane—she’d actually come to tell him that they were done. That she couldn’t do this, and if she tried she was going to screw it up and hurt him because that was just what she did in relationships, and the problem was she actually cared about him, and so she couldn’t do it.

  And so she’d told him, or at least started to, and funny thing was, before she could, he’d told her something similar, with that sort of cold, distant look on his face he’d basically been wearing ever since the university. That it was probably better if they weren’t together, better for both of them. And hell, they’d both been right, it was better, it was basically one hundred percent better.

  And there was no damn reason why even the thought of it made her want to cry, which made her want even more to head down to the gambling hall, since the only other option was maybe just explode.

  “Go on,” said the guard who was leading them. He unlocked the door and gestured them inside. “There’s a lounge with some food and drink, and bedrooms around the side. You can wait for Masha here.”

  “Thank you,” said Lev, in that polite, detached voice, and stepped past him into the room. Tae caught Jez’s quick glance behind her and grabbed her arm again.

 

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