by C. A. Gray
“All right,” said Jackson, disentangling himself and wrapping the makeshift harness around my brother instead. When he’d gotten it in place, he told Charlie, “Lean back, just… yep. Feel secure, like it’ll hold your weight?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” Charlie muttered.
My mother covered her face with her hands, muttering, “No, no, no, no…” But we all ignored her, because what else could we do?
“All right then,” Jackson told Charlie. “Swing around to the edge of the… uh oh. Hold on, we’ve got company.” He leaned over the edge of the roof, pointing the rifle at the ground in the distance. He picked off one agent, but stayed where he was, shifting the barrel of the rifle a little to the left. He fired another shot. A few seconds later, he shifted the barrel up and back right, and fired twice more. Apparently satisfied for the moment, he moved the barrel of the rifle straight up so he could grip it with one hand, and turned to Charlie.
“That’s the other reason for me to go last. I can see better up here. Coast is clear at the moment, but I don’t know for how long. Take the time you need, but get on down there. I’ll toss down the semiautomatic when you reach the bottom.”
My mother threw her arms around Charlie and kissed him.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Charlie muttered, and set his jaw. Then he leaned back to test the harness one more time, bounced back and forth a little, and practiced letting the rope go with his right arm on level ground. Then he stepped up onto the edge of the roof, climbing over and positioning his feet on the wall as he leaned back into the rope.
I couldn’t watch.
I opened my eyes again with the next gunshot: it was Jackson, picking off another agent down on the lawn below. Then he tossed down the semiautomatic to Charlie, as promised.
“Is he down?” I breathed again.
Jackson nodded at me, and signaled to my father to step up next as he gathered up the slack edges of the rope Charlie had released. I saw my father take a deep breath, puffing up his chest with false bravado as he allowed Jackson to fasten him inside the harness. My mother and I both kissed him.
“Be careful,” I whispered, and my dad gave me a weak smile and touched my cheek.
“You too, Katie.” Then he said, “I’m sorry we didn’t believe you.”
My eyes filled with tears. I bit my lip and said a silent prayer as my dad disappeared down the side of the palace, white-faced.
The next eruption of gunfire came much too close to the spot where Charlie and my dad were. I screamed involuntarily, and so did my mom.
“It’s okay,” Jackson told us, “Charlie got him. They’re both fine.” He signaled to my mom next, who shook her head vigorously.
“I can’t. I can’t. No, I can’t…”
“Mom, the alternative is to leave you up here, and we can’t do that,” I said, with more exasperation than I’d intended.
But Mom shook her head. “I can’t do it, I just can’t…”
I looked at Jackson desperately, and tried again, “Dad and Charlie are both down there, they can catch you if anything goes wrong—”
Jackson put a hand on my shoulder to stop me, and then looked at my mom. “Remember,” he told her, “that whether you can or you can’t do anything is all a matter of mindset.”
“That’s not true!” my mother burst out, “you have to have skill and experience too, and I don’t have either one!”
“I agree,” Jackson held up a hand, just as another burst of gunfire erupted down below, and we all jumped. I balled my hands into fists, as if that would keep my ragged nerves together. Jackson went on, “I agree that skill and experience would be preferable, but not necessary, as your son and husband have just proven. You can rappel down this building. The question is, will you?”
“I won’t, then!” my mom declared, shaking her head. “I won’t! You’ll have to come up with another way to get us off this roof, because I won’t do it!”
“Every moment you delay, you put your son’s and husband’s lives in more danger,” Jackson said, stern now. “They’re exposed down there, waiting for us. When we get off this roof, we can all take cover and escape together. But if you force us to split up, they will most likely die. Our chances inside the palace won’t be a whole lot better, either.”
It wasn’t the tactic I’d expected him to use, but it worked. Mom didn’t say anything else at all, but she held up her arms, signaling Jackson to wrap the makeshift harness around her. Her jaw trembled, but she didn’t look at either of us.
“Now, lean back,” Jackson told her when he’d gotten it all hooked up. “Make sure it supports your weight.” She did, letting out a little involuntary whimper. “All right, you’re ready. Remember, arm in front of you for more friction to slow down, arm behind you to help you get down quicker. But the more you slow yourself down, the worse your rope burns will be.”
Jackson took her by the shoulders and guided her to the ledge, helping her position her feet even as she clung to the wall.
“Let go,” he told her gently. “You’re fine.”
“Come on, Mom!” called Charlie below, a definite edge to his voice.
She let out a small sob as she let go, and then she screamed, even though she didn’t fall.
“My arm, ow, ow, ow!”
“You’ll have some rope burns, yes,” said Jackson again, “but you’ll be fine. Go on.” Even as he spoke, he reloaded the rifle and then aimed it further in the distance, firing three more times.
“More company,” he told me under his breath.
When he lowered the rifle, I wrapped my arms around him from behind and squeezed as tightly as I could. I knew he was still focused and this probably wasn’t a great time, but we were finally alone, and I couldn’t help myself anymore. He seemed surprised, but turned around and hugged me back, still clutching the rifle with one hand behind me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, pressing my face against his chest and probably rubbing off my greasy and sweaty disguise makeup all over him. “Thank you. Thank you for coming back for us and for saving all our lives.”
He tilted my chin up, and for a second my heart stopped: I thought he was going to kiss me.
“She’s down!” called Charlie from below.
Jackson released me abruptly, moving back to the edge of the roof. I reminded myself to breathe, trying not to feel let down.
At least we had a moment, I told myself. Maybe it was all we’d ever get.
“Come on, let’s get you down next,” he said, wrapping me in the harness. I let him, and kept trying to catch his eye, to read what he was thinking. But he was all business. “Lean back,” he commanded. I did, testing my weight. The rope held, but I could see what my mom meant by rope burns on my right arm. Then he led me to the edge of the building, and for a second he cupped my face in his hands.
“Be careful,” he said. “I’ll be down in a second.”
Chapter 28: Ben Voltolini
Voltolini grinned at no one in particular at the news of the coming execution of the refugee leaders. Then he turned to Kurtzman.
“I want to be there,” he said. “I will do the interrogation myself, and I want to give the orders. Fly me out there.”
Kurtzman looked a little taken aback by this. “But… sir, the escapees are still out there, and heavily armed—”
“Then call in more agents to escort me to the helicopter!”
Still Kurtzman hesitated. It wasn’t in his nature to disobey, but he knew a bad plan when he heard one. The helicopter, as with all aircraft, was a relic of the old United States. In the past weeks, rumors had reached Voltolini’s ears of planes flying across the Republic’s skies, and they’d disturbed him so much that he’d immediately ordered the military to renovate as many planes as they could, as quickly as they could.
Only those closest to him knew that he feared invasion, as retaliation for the control centers currently under construction on foreign soil. Voltolin
i and the Tribunal had hidden their operations quite well there, or so they thought: in New Estonia, where they’d made the most headway, the construction workers passed off their project as a textile factory. They’d gotten all the appropriate permits, and were building sham factory equipment in addition to the control center technology for anyone who happened to come looking. So far as they knew, nobody had asked any questions.
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 window 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.