A ray of light diffused into the room through a narrow rectangular window. The slit of light was gray and cold. She stepped over into the light and stared out into the clouds. All she could see was a rising cloud of dust.
Everything she’d dedicated her life to was all gone to piss. No, she thought, I’ve always been dedicated to myself. Winterthur was just the vehicle. The bitter thought sat with her and she stared at the debris drifting into the sky. I’ve been held back by all this, she thought. Her mind formed a scapegoat, and it was called Winterthur.
The Hun were right, she thought, how could a democracy ever hope to contend with the efficiency of a modern totalitarian regime. All around her she saw the evidence: Malic dead, the planet ground under the alloy boot of bioaugmented soldiers. This was not a challenge for a Democracy, but it was an opportunity.
She laid out what she had left. People. It was all about that touch. Militia cells, some weapons caches, and Bark. Her heart winced for a second but it passed just as quickly. A means to an end. They’d come for her and she’d have something to offer. Winterthur would be hers. With or without the citizens.
More footsteps came. A group of footsteps marching together with one sound out of step. They stopped and a solenoid latch thudded open. The door swung in and a broad shouldered Hun officer stood with his hands at his side. Behind him a squad of the bioaugments stood placidly.
The officer stepped inside the room and gave a casual glance at the corpse. He gestured toward the body and two of the soldiers sprang in and drug it out. The piss trailed behind as the body passed.
Natyasha stood quietly and a worry hit her. What if he didn’t speak English? Her plan would go to nothing. “Governor Myint, I must speak to him. Myint. Myint!” she pleaded.
The officer turned and looked at her with dark, hooded, eyes. He looked bored, like this was just another task to be done.
“Don’t strangle me,” she said in a low voice. She pressed her back against the wall. Her eyes grew wide.
The officer cracked his knuckles and stepped closer.
“Wait!” she cried out. “I need to speak to Myint! I can help, I know where there are things, people, I can give him things!” She watched him step closer. She stared at his fingers and felt a dread shoot through her.
Shudders rolled through the floor as another orbital bombardment went through. The bioaugments in the hall shuffled their feet.
The officer stopped and cocked his head. “Explain,” he said in a low pitched Australian accent.
“The militia are out there. I know where they are, and weapons caches, and,” she caught herself and almost didn’t say it. “And I sent someone out to get Emilie Rose.”
“You?” he said, pulling himself back. The rising violence in him dropped back like a wave on the shore. He turned his head and spoke in a low voice in a language she didn’t know.
Natyasha felt the weight drop. Her heart beat slowed. Her cheeks felt warm as the blood rushed back into him. She was almost shaky as she braced herself against the wall. The adrenaline flowed away and she felt sick.
“Come, the Governor wants to see you.”
Each footstep felt lighter than the first. She could barely walk with the thought of the long armed bioaugments shuffling behind her. Fear rode high, but the fear ebbed away and the reality set in. A reality she didn’t particularly enjoy, but one that she could understand. By the time they passed through the complex and stood in the control room, she felt almost righteous.
She followed the officer. He stood rigidly with his back to her. The atmosphere of the command room had changed since she last left. The Governor stood in the center of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. He stared up, a face thick with concentration, and ignored the officer.
The screens showed cascading clouds of dust and debris and a mass of human beings trying to escape. Gunfire burst silently as the feed showed troops firing into the crowd.
One set of feeds didn’t move. One camera showed nothing but concrete, a second a bloody arm extended out, a third looked straight up into the sky. That was the screen the Governor stared at. Indicators showed a combat squad—dead.
“What is this?” he asked without turning to look. His eyes burned and spit flecked his lips. “Your people broke her out?”
“I wasn’t totally helpless,” she said. She made a quick deduction and decided to seize upon it. “They’ll do more.”
He scrunched his face and stared. “More?”
Natyasha lifted her chin. “I didn’t know how things were going to go. I had hoped we could have worked together, but in case we can’t come to an agreement I have my people.”
“Your people,” he sneered. “One squad! And a few dead guards. Hardly able to take on my forces.”
“Then why do you look so worried?” Natyasha asked politely.
Myint glared at her and snuck a glance up at the screen. The crowd was surging against the walls and trying to escape. The orbital bombardment was peppering the center of the immigration facility, but if they hit the edges the walls would crumble. “Where are they?”
“Tell you so you can strangle me when it’s all done?” Natyasha crossed her arms.
Governor Myint charged through the crowd of seated technicians and officers and stood before Natyasha. He leaned in close, his hand almost touching her throat. “I’ll strangle you myself,” he hissed. “Where. Are. They?”
Natyasha wiped spit from her cheeks and stared into the Governors eyes. A part of her felt a tint of regret. “I want to run this planet. You can have the title, but it’s mine.”
“You bargain with me?” Myint said, with a hint of laughter. “Now? And you bargain?”
“My people, my methods, you’re the muscle, I’m the one who gets things done.”
Myint shoved Natyasha to the ground. “I’m the one who gets things done.”
Natyasha stared up at the Governor, eyes burning. She ground her fingernails into her palms to keep from lashing out.
“If I so choose, you’ll run this planet. Now where are they?” the Governor yelled.
She stood and her knees popped. Her shoulder was sore and the front of her jacket was torn and shredded. It hit her how close the Hun were to losing control. If those citizens surged out of the camp, they might be able to overwhelm the defenders on the wall. She ran the thought through her mind and instead stuck with what she knew right now. “I need a link.”
An aide rushed up and handed Natyasha a flexible communications cell. The sort found in vending machines, for free in advertising booklets, and given away at promotional events. She slid her fingers on the plastic front and tapped in a set of numbers.
The screen bounced between green and yellow. There was no name on the receiving end. Natyasha tapped the corner and the flexible device vibrated as one large speaker. It was ringing. There was a click and the sound of wind rushing past a microphone.
Governor Myint waved and the room went completely silent. He leaned over Natyasha’s outstretched hand and cocked his head to listen better.
“Bark,” Natyasha said. “Status?”
“We have her.”
“Where are you?”
There was only the sound of the wind for a moment. A dim mechanical sound hummed in the background.
“Heading towards the beach, down where the old Cleveland distillation tower was. Are you okay?”
Natyasha glanced at Governor Myint and held his gaze for a moment. There was a look of recognition that passed between them both. “Fine, things are working out here. What is the plan?”
“She has weapons, we’re going to get ‘em,” Bark said.
“Where?” Natyasha asked.
“Core facility, by the shore.”
“Which one?” Natyasha asked again. The only Core facility she knew of was destroyed on the first day of the occupation.
“I don’t know where yet, we’re almost there. They had it hidden in the junk.”
Governor Myint signaled for her
to cut the call.
“I’ve got to go. Keep me informed. And Bark?”
“Yes?”
“You’re doing great things.”
“No, Councilor, you’re doing great things,” Bark added, and cut her end of the conversation.
Natyasha curled the phone into her palm. It felt like a weight of silver.
Governor Myint shouted orders and the officer sprung into action. The view of the some of the feeds changed and troops left posts and ran for transports.
He turned back to Natyasha. “We’re sending troops to that position. How well you fare will depend on how well my troops fare. I’ll not trust one who strays so quickly from the path. What surprises will we find?”
Natyasha looked back and felt pinpricks of worry on her neck. She had no doubt that the Governor would send overwhelming force. But she didn’t know what surprises they would find. “I told you where, I don’t know what you’ll find.”
Governor Myint walked away and stood before the screen. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
––––––––
The truck bounced across an intersection. The fog of the shore rose up in front of them. The taste of the briny sea was in her nose. Emilie looked away from Emmet and watched the empty streets pass by.
“You could have told Captain Grace,” Emilie said to Emmet.
The ex-Core Marine shook his head and glanced at the militia. “I wasn’t trusting anyone.”
“But he’s UC,” Emilie said.
“We didn’t know what happened. Kari got a couple, but...” He looked away.
Emilie looked behind her and watched the second truck bounce over the same intersection. Trust, she wondered, who to trust? Not many options, she thought and looked to Emmet and Kari. About the only ones she could trust. Bark too, she thought, gotta trust that one.
The mist enveloped her and the view shrank to only the sides of the road. The air tasted like salt mixed with dirt. The sun was blurred by a smudge of soot and smoke. A voice called out from the cab of the transport truck.
The trucks slowed to a crawl where the mist was the heaviest and stopped at the edge of the sea. A tall concrete embankment marked the dropoff. Rust stains and streaks of corrosion ran down the ugly barrier. On the other side, a scattered field of debris slid into the sea. Waves ran in from the distance and rolled up almost silently.
With Emmet’s guidance, the truck lurched backward and he plopped back down with a grumble. The second truck pulled up alongside and the remaining militia stepped out.
Kari hopped over the embankment and dropped into the mist. Emmet pushed open a stained door with a kick and squeak. Bark walked up to Emilie and stared into the empty space.
“Where is it?” Bark asked.
Emilie pointed out into the fog. “Out there.”
Emmet stepped into the darkness and called from inside. “It ain’t gonna unload itself, ladies.”
Bark glanced at Emilie and stepped into the darkened space. Emilie followed with the rest of the militia behind. A slender light popped on behind them and illuminated stack after stack of bulk containers. Behind them, a cargo elevator disappeared below.
“Huh,” Bark said.
Emilie smiled and popped open the first case. Inside was a heap of additive constructed Colt assault rifles. “Will this do?”
Bark ran a finger on the edge of the weapons and nodded slowly. “As long as you have slabs.”
“We got ‘em, lady. Best start hauling.”
The group broke into pairs and heaved the heavy cases out and into the back of the trucks. First came case after case of assault rifles followed by slab racks of ammunition.
Even with the cool mist Emilie was hot from the exertion. Her legs stumbled and shuffled forward as the handles bored into the joints of her fingers. “Hold on,” she said and dropped her edge of the case.
Bark stood and looked out to the sea. “All this right here?”
Emilie nodded and squeezed her hands open and closed. She wasn’t used to work like this. “It’s actually under water.”
Bark took two steps closer to the embankment and stared out into the debris. “In that?”
Emilie nodded.
Bark looked impressed, but just for a moment.
“Drones, too!” the driver of the truck called as he shuffled past with a case.
“Anything you didn’t make?” Bark asked as she laid her hands on the edge of the case.
Emilie heaved the case up and shuffled to the back of the truck. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Armored vehicles, the cells weren’t big enough.”
“I was kidding,” Bark replied, as the two heaved the case up and pushed it into the back of the truck. She turned and looked at Emilie. “I talked to the Councilor.”
She tensed and stepped away from the truck. “And?”
“She’s trying to work the diplomatic route.”
“Wait a second? We’re committed here. What’s she doing?”
Bark said nothing and walked towards the door.
“Does she know where we are?” Emilie asked louder. “Hey! Talk to me. What is she doing?”
Bark turned and looked at Emilie with her face set hard. “She went inside to talk to them.”
Emilie felt the fear rise in her stomach. Trust. “Can you trust her? Absolutely?”
Bark faltered a moment and her eyes darted away. “Yes.”
Emilie saw it and ran inside the dark room. “We’re done! Get it buttoned up.”
“What is it?” Emmet said loudly over the clang of the rising elevator.
“We need to go, we’ve been here too long.”
One of the militia grabbed a long case and tossed it over his shoulder. “They’re all at the immigration facility, ain’t no trouble here.”
Emilie threw her shoulders back, jabbed her hands onto her hip, shifted her posture and exuded as much power as she could. “We’re moving. Now.”
Emmet raised an eyebrow and grabbed his weapon. “Right, so what’s the plan?”
A single high pitched crack echoed out through the mist.
“Move!” Emmet yelled. “Troops coming in!”
The militia rushed out of the room and jumped into the backs of the trucks. Emilie took Bark’s offered hand and hopped up onto the stacks of crates. Her eyes darted into the fog as she tried to pick out details. One of the militia dropped his knockoff weapon with a clatter and loaded one of the Colt rifles.
A second crack sounded and Emmet yelled from the other truck. “Two squads coming up! One flanking!”
Bark leaned towards the cab. “Get going!”
“Where?” the man asked.
Muzzle bursts flashed through the fog and rounds pinged against the truck and skidded on the street. The side window of the truck puckered and hummed.
“Immigration!” Bark called out. “Get to that lockdown!”
Kari ran out from the fog. The truck stopped and threw everyone in the back off balance. The silent Marine hopped up in the back, her eyebrows set tight as if concentrating. Another high pitched crack sounded out. She nodded to Emilie and pulled out a short stocked bullpup sniper rifle.
“Go!” Bark yelled again as more rounds sang through the air.
Impacts rang out and shards of alloy splinters flew threw the back of the truck. The truck accelerated at a steady rate, as quickly as its reactor would allow, away and towards a sweeping curve. The front truck was pulling away slowly. Emmet stood with a hand locked onto the side.
Emilie crouched down and felt the truck dodge and dance. The gunfire sounded distant in her ears. Tired. She felt like she could curl up and lay down. It was tired mixed with an overdose of adrenaline, the sort that had burned in her for nearly twenty-four hours. She looked over at Bark and watched her drive a slab of ammunition into a rifle. “What are we going to do?”
Bark stopped, cocked her head slightly, and listened. “Once we lose the fog, we’re going to have a fight,” she said
as she pulled the rifle up to her shoulder and let fly with a three round burst.
Emilie flinched at the sound. “After that?”
She never heard the answer. The lead truck slammed sideways as a Hun transport slammed into the front edge. The entire box leapt up as the leading edge tipped and rolled. Containers flew out and slammed against buildings and curbs. The Hun transport spun sideways with a screech of synthetic rubber. The following truck heaved and the driver slammed the brakes.
“Go, go!” Bark bellowed out as she spun and laid the rifle onto the top of the cab. The weapon barked out the first rounds just as the Hun troops spilled out of the back.
Emilie couldn’t find Emmet through the debris scattered on the road. Her eyes picked out detail after detail without regard for the Hun soldiers taking position around it.
“Get a fucking weapon!” Bark yelled to Emilie as she continued to shoot.
The truck weaved and accelerated. Rounds pinged all around. Bark fired and dropped down. She kicked open a dull gray box and pointed with her muzzle.
Emilie crawled over the uneven space and felt the truck decelerate. The case was filled with cylinders about the size of her forearm. She snatched one out and tucked in next to Bark.
“Fuck,” Bark said and pushed herself low.
The Hun troops laid out a wall of fire. Rounds slammed into the front of the truck and riddled the cab with holes. The plastic window made pong noises as more rounds burrowed through it. Only a heavy steel cargo barrier kept them from punching through to the other side. The driver was quite and totally dead.
Kari spoke in a grating voice. “Driver! We need a driver!”
A militia soldier dropped down into the street and his weapon clattered from his hands. He took two steps and opened the door. He fell to the ground screaming, clutching his legs before more gunfire silenced him.
The truck coasted driverless. The bloodstained arm of the dead driver hung out from the open door.
Emilie felt the fear like she’d never felt it before. Her eyes caught movement from behind and she saw Hun soldiers through the mist. She looked down at the canister and popped the top open. A small ball rolled out. She peered at it and had no idea what it was.
Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) Page 24