by Paul Sims
It seemed that they might have an opportunity to check out “below stairs”, so Tanya reached out carefully with her mind, ready to draw back if necessary. She detected the thoughts of only one person below, and his beta wave activity was at a low ebb, as if he were half asleep. She waited until he lost consciousness, before raising her eyebrow again to Bartes. She felt him reach out himself to check her findings, and they were clearly confirmed, for this time he nodded his head.
They got to their feet as silently as they could and made their way towards the kitchen. As quiet as they were, they woke Joseph as they passed his room. “Where are you going?” he muttered sleepily. Tanya put her finger to her lips and beckoned for him to follow.
When they convened in the kitchen, he’d shaken off his drowsiness and when they told him what had happened, he was keen to be involved. “I’ll follow your orders to the letter, and I’ll be as quiet as a silenced pistol,” he assured them.
“All right, but first, go and rouse John – quietly! – and tell him what we’re doing.”
“Why?”
“So no-one will raise the alarm accidentally if they wake and find us missing. Anyway, Bartes and I are trained for this sort of situation, so we should go first and check what’s down below. And try and keep out of sight of the camera in the living room as much as possible. It’s in the top left corner as you enter.”
He frowned, then shrugged. “OK – as long as I can join you down there afterwards.”
“Very well – but be careful. From what we’ve heard, there’s ice on the ladder, and we don’t want you to slip and break something – or alert our jailers.”
“Why let him get involved?” Bartes said after the boy departed.
“It’s always better to keep loose cannons under supervision,” Tanya said.
They raised the trapdoor and carefully climbed down the iron ladder. It was very cold below, and RD’s earlier spillage had frozen on the rungs, making the descent really treacherous. They found themselves at one end of a short corridor illuminated by emergency lighting and lined with cables and rubber pipes. The pipes were attached to large gas cylinders at one end, and had valves to distribute the gas to each and every room in the dacha above. There were three cylinders: one green, one blue and one black with a skull and crossbones on it.
Slithering quietly through the door at the other end of the corridor, they found themselves in a small control room. There was a supply cupboard with coffee-making facilities to their left, and a table with four chairs and the remains of an interrupted three-handed card game in the middle of the room. On the right-hand wall was a small bank of monitors. In front of them, his feet up on the console and his cap over his eyes, was the slumbering form of a young security private.
A brief inspection told them that the monitors could show cameras in all the rooms upstairs, including – to Tanya’s embarrassment – the inside of the shower. Others were trained on the area immediately outside the dacha, and confirmed that they were both well-protected and completely surrounded. One of the monitors showed John in the kitchen making coffee, and on another they could see Joseph waking the others in the living room, so Tanya switched them to other feeds to delay discovery if their watchdog woke.
There was another door in the opposite wall of the control room, and they made their way through it and along the rock tunnel on its other side. They reached an opening and found themselves in a rocky cave. From an old sign on the wall, this was normally a storage depot for the crews that looked after the roads and mountain trails of the area, and it contained two maintenance vehicles, several trailers and a variety of equipment. There was a set of recent tyre tracks that looked like those of a jeep, and the camouflage net intended to conceal the entrance had been pushed aside.
“Do you think they put in all this surveillance here – and at Plune – just for us?” Tanya asked Bartes.
He shook his head. “No. This is a paranoid society. They’ll want to keep tabs on lots of people. I’m sure there are plenty of other places that are bugged – including our own apartment block.”
Tanya shivered. “The thought of it makes my skin crawl... But wouldn’t the maintenance crews that use this place know about the entrance to the dacha?”
“Perhaps,” he replied. “But the entrance to the tunnel is very well concealed, and it would be kept locked. Even if they noticed something odd, they’d know better than to investigate.”
She paused and looked around. “Could we escape in one of those?” she asked, indicating the vehicles.
“Hmm…” he considered, “that one’s rather large and ponderous.” Indeed, it was over forty foot long from the edge of the large front scoop to the cable roll at the back, and had a crane mounted on top. “The other one might do, though.” They looked it over; it was a large green All-Terrain Vehicle built for off-road travel, with seating for six and a cargo space at the back. “Let’s go back, talk to the others, and see what they think.”
As they made their way back towards the guard-room, Tanya reached out with her mind to check that its occupant was still asleep.
Damn, she thought. He’s awake. OK, he hasn’t noticed anything yet, but it’s only a matter of time. :Bartes – it’s not safe. He’s conscious, and if he raises the alarm, we’ve had it.:
:We’ll have to kill him.:
She hesitated. :Not unless we have to. Once we do that, there’s no going back. Let me try something.: She sat down with her back to the wall, let her mind relax and gradually synchronised her brainwaves with those of the young private. Once they were attuned, she began to impose her own rhythm on his, moving him from beta dominance to alpha, then after a pause to delta. It had taken a while, but it had worked. “He’s asleep now, and he should stay that way.”
“I can tell,” Bartes replied. “He just snored. Where did you learn to do that?” She shrugged. “Well, you’ll have to teach me how to do it someday.”
They crossed the room and were met on the other side of the opposite door by a wild-eyed Joseph. “What happened to you?” Tanya whispered.
“I was on my way to join you, but as I opened this door, there was a bleep and the man in there woke up. I closed the door to a crack so I could just see and hear what was going on.”
“What did you find out,” Bartes asked.
“I overheard a conversation between the private in there and Captain Reynard. Apparently, she’s worried that we’re shaking off our conditioning, so she’s sending a task force to take us into custody and recondition us.”
“What about Major Valentine?” Tanya asked. “Surely he wouldn’t let her do that.”
“He’s probably off duty,” Bartes said, “so she’s taken the opportunity to go over his head.”
“Any idea when they’ll be here?” Tanya asked the boy.
“Before morning. I think she wants to get it done before the Major can veto it.”
“Damn!” Bartes interjected. “This was bound to happen, sooner or later, but at least now we might have a way out.”
“What do you mean?” the boy asked.
“I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.”
“I’ll stay here, just in case my ‘patient’ shows any signs of waking,” Tanya said.
“Good idea,” Bartes replied. “We’ll be as quick as we can.”
Chapter 19
Leaving Tanya to use her talent to keep the private asleep, Bartes and Joseph made their way upstairs. While they’d been investigating, John had made coffee for RD, Anoushka and Iain, and was forcing the latter’s down his throat. He poured Bartes a cup while Bartes briefed the rest of them as to what he and Tanya had found below, and what Joseph had overheard.
“There’s no way we can risk being reconditioned,” RD said. “And I don’t think we’ll get a better opportunity to escape than this.”
“I just wish there was some way we could retrieve our weapons from the boat,” Bartes said wistfully. “I’d hate to leave that laser carbine behind – especially aft
er going to such trouble to obtain it.”
“I don’t think so,” RD said. “We’d alert the troops outside and the game would be up.” He frowned. “Anyway, d’you think you’re hard done by? When I think of all the time and effort I put into making that boat the best on the planet…” He sighed.
“One moment,” Bartes interrupted him. “I’ve got an idea.” :Tanya?: he sent.
:Bartes?: came the reply. :D’you think this is safe?:
:I think it’s worth the risk. I doubt there are any sniffers nearby, and I need your help.:
:Why didn’t you just come and ask for it?:
:I’ve had an idea that requires the use of our telepathy, and we haven’t a lot of time. We’re going to make a run for it, but I think we need the guns that we stashed on the boat.:
:You and your weapons.:
:We’re not all as talented as you are,: he replied rather sharply. :Without ordnance, we’re sitting ducks. We wouldn’t stand a ghost of a chance if we were cornered. Think of Anoushka, if no-one else – you did promise to get her home.:
He detected a mental sigh. :You’re right – it just goes against the grain. What do you need me to do?:
:Can you use the monitors to guide me to the boat and back so I don’t get spotted?:
:I’ll do my best.:
“I’m going out after the weapons,” he told the others, “Tanya’s going to keep a lookout for me using the monitors downstairs.”
“Do you need any help?” John asked.
“No – it’s a one-man job. I can manage all the weapons in one trip, and two people more than double the chance of being caught.”
“I think you’re taking an idiotic risk,” RD said.
“How far d’you think we’ll get without weapons?” Bartes asked. “Now, where on the boat are they hidden?”
RD followed Bartes to his bedroom, where Bartes began to change into black trousers and a dark grey sweater. “There’s a panel near the front starboard corner of the main cabin,” RD said. “It looks firm enough, but it isn’t properly sealed. You should find it reasonably easy to remove. Use one of the screwdrivers in the toolbox under the bench on the port side. The panel gives you access to the starboard float. You may have some difficulty reaching the weapons, though – the boy climbed inside to put them there.”
“I could come if you like.” Joseph’s eyes gleamed with excitement.
RD scoffed. “Not a chance,” he said. “Bartes knows what he’s doing and I think his chances of getting away with this are slim. If you tag along, we may as well surrender now.”
“I’m sorry, Joseph,” Bartes said, “he’s right. I’ll just have to use a boat hook.” He donned a pair of dark gloves and made his way to the kitchen. “Anything in here I can use to black up?”
“The only things that might cover your face adequately smell strongly enough to give you away.”
“Looks like I’ll have to rely on good, old-fashioned dirt.” Bartes eyes unfocussed again as he contacted Tanya. :What’s happening out there?: he asked.
:Not a lot at the moment,: she replied. :The APC’s still at the back, and the troops that arrived with it have formed a perimeter arc around the dacha. As far as I can tell, they check in with each other, but not with this guardroom. They look like regulars, so they probably don’t even know it’s here. What’s more, their perimeter doesn’t enclose the underground exit.:
:Good.:
:At the front, there are a couple of guards dug in each side, but they’re facing away from the dacha.:
:Even better.:
:The problem, as you may have noticed on the monitors when you were down here, is the Arkan VII tied up to the jetty.:
:Ah. I hadn’t. Go on.:
:It’s a standard military version with a couple of heavy machine guns, one each side, about a third of the way back. The crew seem to be alert, but not highly so. Its sensors look to be operating, but they shouldn’t be able to detect you so close in. It’s moored on the far side of the jetty, opposite the catamaran, but further out.: She paused. :As far as I can tell, everything’s quiet. You’re clear to move.:
Bartes poured some cooking oil onto the hinges of the front door and opened it just wide enough to slither out.
“Good luck,” Anoushka whispered.
He slid through and John closed the door behind him. He lay flat and still on the deck of the veranda and waited.
:So far, so good,: Tanya informed him. :Crawl to the end of the veranda nearest the jetty and down the steps. Once you’re at the bottom, the bushes should help conceal you – let’s just hope that no-one looks too closely.:
He followed her instructions, but as he put his weight on the last step, the wood creaked alarmingly. He froze and held his breath, and in the silence he heard a voice mutter, “What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” someone replied.
“There was a noise.”
“Well, if you heard a noise, you’d better go see what it was. I’m not moving. I just managed to make myself comfortable. I hate guard duty – and having to take orders from those black-shirted bastards.”
“I wouldn’t talk so loud, if I was you. You never know who’s listening.”
Bartes heard a movement from the direction of the voices and sank as quietly as he could onto the ground, trying to conceal himself under the edge of the veranda. It was scant cover and he was sure he’d be spotted. He rubbed some earth over his face in a futile attempt at camouflage. He dared not look up, but out of the corner of his eye he could see a pair of boots coming in towards him. He held his breath, cursed his luck and waited for the inevitable challenge.
Suddenly, something shot from behind Bartes, bounced on his backside and launched itself at the approaching guard with a hideous yowl. “Ow!” the guard cried. “It’s a cat!” He stumbled backwards, flailing ineffectively with his free hand at the enraged animal that was clutching at the front of his fatigues.
The cat clung on for several seconds, hissing in the guard’s face, before slashing his cheek with its right forepaw. It released its hold, dropped, and ran off into the bushes.
The soldier swore loudly and clutched at his cheek, shouldered his rifle and fired blindly in the direction that the animal had gone. Bartes didn’t think he’d hit anything. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief – at least the guard had been distracted from his search.
The disturbance brought the guard’s fellow soldiers, but luckily their attention was on their injured comrade, who was bleeding profusely from three parallel gashes just under his left eye, and none of them noticed Bartes.
“Come on, you idiot, let’s get you patched up.”
“Serves you right for molesting the locals,” said another with a guffaw.
“It molested me,” grumbled the injured man.
“You must be used to being scratched by cats,” one of his mates said. “Though in your case, they’re mostly of a two-legged variety – and ugly as sin.”
Their voices faded as they returned to their posts, but for some time Bartes could hear the wounded man muttering to himself as he was patched up.
:Where did that cat came from?: he sent to Tanya once all was quiet again.
:I don’t know – but I feel I ought to…: she replied mysteriously. After a few tense minutes, she sent, :Things seem to have calmed down now. I think it’s OK for you to make for the boat.:
Bartes crossed the gravel towards the jetty. There was a ticklish moment when it crunched slightly under him, but no-one seemed to notice this time. He slid smoothly into the water on the near side of the pier and waded slowly to the boat. Its shallow draft meant it could be moored close to the bank where the water wasn’t too deep, and when he slipped between the twin hulls and reached its superstructure, he was able to stretch up and take hold of its rigging.
There was no way he could avoid making some noise, however carefully he pulled himself up onto the deck, so, after he did so, he lay prone for several minutes, his heart pounding, un
til Tanya again gave the all-clear.
It took some time to retrieve the weapons from where RD had hidden them. He had to move slowly and carefully so as to make as little noise as possible, but soon he was able to slide, fully laden, back down into the lake.
He made his way back onto the land with little difficulty, but as he crossed toward the dacha the treacherous gravel again rasped beneath him. He stopped dead in his tracks, fully exposed, fearful of making any further commotion, when he heard the voice of the injured guard.
“There’s another noise,” he muttered.
“It’ll be that damned cat again,” his mate replied. “Let it be – or do you want to turn the other cheek,” he guffawed.
“Damn animal – I’ve half a mind to find it and wring its neck. Maybe I will when there’s enough daylight.”
“Leave it be – we’ve got a job to do. And remember what the Major said: anyone gets in – or out – tonight and we’ll be shot.”
Bartes slowly let out the breath he’d been holding and continued on his way. This time he managed to avoid the creaky step, and he reached the door without further incident. John let him in, and he collapsed on the floor of the living room and let the tension drain out of him while the others relieved him of his burdens.
“Well done,” Iain said as he handed Bartes a mug of coffee. “We were watching from the front window. We thought they’d got you dead to rights until the moggy intervened. What a slice of luck.”
“I’m not so sure,” Bartes mused. “I think Tanya feels it was more than luck.”
“Whatever it was, now we’re loaded for bear.” Iain rubbed his hands gleefully.
“You’re sounding better – no hangover?”
“I’m feeling a bit delicate, but the prospect of escape sobers you up really quickly.”
“By the way, the laser carbine’s mine,” Bartes told him. “I feel like I’ve earned it twice over.”