by Barb Taub
“With all due respect, sir, you really need to get a life.”
They were, Carey knew, just going through the motions, their banter a pretense that they weren’t all reeling with anger, worry, and shock. Because that’s what tough warriors do, right? Even when this warrior wants nothing more than to lie on that perfectly made cot, pull the blankets over her head, and cry against her dog’s side for the family, guardian, and friend who were gone. Even then…
Carey’s hand swooped down and stole back her garlic bread, holding it over Bain’s food dish as she locked gazes with Yosh. “It’s not an espresso, but when you’re out in the field, you have to improvise. Are you going to talk?”
He stared at her, put down his fork, and walked out.
“That worked well.” She wrapped the bread in a napkin and scooted a scrap of salad cheese into Bain’s dish in penance. “Any ideas, sir?”
“I’m sure he’ll be back.” Jeffers sighed. “I’m just not sure he’ll ever talk about this.”
She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand.
Her eyes opened wider, and her lip trembled. “You could tell me.” She swallowed, and tried a sobbing whisper. “Pleeeease.”
He snorted. “And Claire already told me to watch out for the puppy face, so don’t even go there.”
“Damn Claire.” She blew out a frustrated sigh.
»»•««
She found him in the Lamborghini. When she slid into the passenger side, Yosh didn’t look at her. So she leaned the seat back and stretched out. “Nice seats.” Carey wasn’t sure how much time went by. Her eyes were closed, cheek pillowed against Italian leather. It had been a long day. Finally she turned her head and looked at him.
The mark she’d slapped onto his face was almost gone. But she put her hand over it again and cupped his cheek. Then she handed him something wrapped in a napkin and went back upstairs, whistling for Bain who was lying next to the car. From the top of the stairs she glanced back to see Yosh staring at the piece of garlic bread.
»»•««
Carey lay on the cot and painstakingly gathered in every scrap of information they had so far. Jeffers had just gone to relieve Yosh on watch, and Bain was curled on her feet. She pictured the game board and began methodically adding players one at a time. The problem was that each addition snapped facts into connections until the board was obscured by the connection strands swirling around it. At the end, she was sweating and gasping for air as she struggled to hold onto everything.
Dimly she heard Jeffers’ worried growl. Strangely, it was Yosh who shushed him. “She’s been living with this for years, and I’ll bet she’s practiced at least as much as with any weapon. We all want this, but she might need it most of all.”
Grimly, she began eliminating players one by one. With each departure, connections winked out until she was down to the final group—Connor, Marley, Yosh, Director, and finally herself.
She was shaking, sweat running down her face as she struggled to hold them on the game board. Connections, she ordered herself grimly. Don’t worry about the moaning. Finally, she gasped out the ones she saw. “Marley: standing between Connor and the Dark Dancer. Carey: trying to hold Yosh’s fallen body to the game board. Connor: reaching for Carey? No, he’s blocking her from the Dancer. Director: at the bottom, connected to Carey, to Marley, and to…someone else…fighting his way onto the board, trying to get her attention…”
She stopped, sobbing, shaking. “No! Not. Possible.” Harry!
She felt the bed dip, and Yosh pulled her up to wrap his arms around her. “Shh…let it go.” His words rumbled through his chest, and he rocked her slightly. “It’s okay. You can let it go for now.” But she had too many tears she hadn’t shed for those she’d lost—too many years of trying to be so strong—that now she couldn’t stop. To hell with being a warrior. She felt him ease her down, still pressed to his chest, and pull the blanket around them. But she didn’t notice when the sobbing became sleep, his arms still holding her.
»»•««
“Bain! Cut it out. Yuck.” Her face was getting an enthusiastic lick. “You may be the only man I love, but your morning breath could peel paint, and the walls of this place are challenged enough in that department already.” Bain gave a soft whine of encouragement. “Okay, okay. I’ll take you outside. But I really think you could at least wait until the sun comes up.”
“It’s Seattle. Sun won’t show up for hours.” Jeffers’ growl came from the couch.
She cracked open an eye and peered over at him. “You look like crap. And I feel worse.”
“Mornin’ to you too, sunshine. Take care of your dog and get your ass back here. Let’s make some sense of the mumbo jumbo you were talking last night. Those last three Outsiders were too close last night. We need to finish up and get out of here.”
Over a microwaved meal that tasted like cardboard and instant coffee that didn’t taste as good as cardboard, she looked over Yosh’s list of the connections she’d groaned out last night. Jeffers reached over her plate and tapped the line of question marks at the top of the list.
“You said it was impossible. What did you see?”
She gave him a flat look. “Harry.”
Coming in from the bathroom, hair wet and chin freshly shaved, Yosh stopped. “Harry Daniels? The one who was your guardian? Really?”
“My dead guardian.”
“Okay.” Jeffers wrote the name of each player onto the chalkboard. “Draw the connections you saw.”
At the end, Yosh frowned at the board. “Who is this Dark Dancer?”
“I have no idea. I just call him that because I can’t see his face and even though he’s fighting Marley, his moves are like a beautiful, complicated dance. But there was something familiar this time, once Harry showed up…” She frowned at the line drawn to Harry and snapped her fingers. “Marley’s visitor! He came to her cottage back at Harry’s ranch. Almost as tall as Yosh, long black hair down to his shoulders, wavy, curly even. Blue eyes, high cheeks. There was something about his clothing. It was all black, but he kept pulling on it like he didn’t like it, or maybe wasn’t used to it. He was pushing Marley to make us go after our pivot point, even though Connor and I were only sixteen. But his voice never changed tone. It was gentle, even, not cold, but more like he’d never felt a single emotion.”
She frowned, putting him alone on the game board and turning it around in her mind. “Cory! Marley said his name was Cory. But I heard her call him Narcorial.”
She heard Director Jeffers sit down hard and opened her eyes. “Sir?”
“That’s a name I haven’t heard in…a long time. If he’s here…” He was silent, staring at the list of connections as Yosh erased “Dancer” and wrote “Cory/Narcorial.”
“Who is he?”
“Once he was my best friend.” Nobody said anything. “Once he was my brother.”
He looks old all of a sudden. Not aged. Ageless and ancient. “Sir?”
Jeffers focused on both of them. “This changes everything. We have to talk to Harry.”
She took it like a blow to the stomach. “Harry’s dead.”
He nodded. “But if you saw the connection, he has to be around somewhere, or at least some message from him. Good thing we’re in Seattle. I think it’s time to go for a train ride.”
“You think the Metro can get us to Harry?”
“I hope it can. And that Harry can get us to Marley.”
Remembering that last nightmare Metro ride, Carey shuddered, about to voice an automatic protest. But…Harry. “Does the Metro allow dogs?”
Chapter Fourteen
March 2011: Seattle
“I think this is the last of it.” Carey dumped an armload of Yosh’s research photos and papers into the rusting storage bin he’d dragged to the middle of the warehouse floor. She avoided looking at the pictures as she turned away. But after falling asleep in his arms last night, she wasn’t too sure about looking at him either. Without comment,
Yosh poured the contents of a clear bottle onto the pile and tossed on a match. As the fire caught, he removed the hard drive from his laptop, smashed it, and added it to the blaze.
Both were watching the smoky plumes when Jeffers came down the stairs at a run. “Claire just called in a report from the surveillance detail I assigned last night. Laurel’s team says the warehouse is surrounded, probably by Outsiders. They’ll be inside any minute.” He held up a remote and punched in a sequence. Grids slid into place over the doors and windows before he took aim and shot out the panel controls next to the door.
Carey snatched up her backpack and whistled for Bain as she raced after the two men to a corner of the warehouse. Another code on the remote opened a door in what looked like regular floor tiles. Jeffers waved them down a revealed stairway so steep it was little more than a ladder. “Panic room. Hurry.” They could already hear shots coming from the doors. He followed them down a dozen steps into a tiny, dimly lit room, and closed the door into the floor above. A reinforced panel slid across to seal the opening. She gave Bain the hand signal for wait, and nobody made a sound.
Yosh moved silently to the side of the room and turned on a video monitor. Feeds from various spots in the warehouse showed a small force of eight black-clad figures, heads and faces covered with ski masks. Obeying some order or signal, they fanned out in an orderly sweep. At the remains of the fire, one kicked aside the still burning embers and stirred the ashes. He picked up a partially burned piece of paper. Carey thought it might be the picture of Connor. Another opened Yosh’s laptop and tried the start button, only to toss it aside in disgust when he realized the hard drive was missing.
Four of the soldiers took up positions where they could watch the doors and windows, while the others headed up the stairs. Two more camera feeds showed them searching methodically, including tapping walls for potential hiding places.
All four intruders headed back downstairs to join their team gathered in a loose circle around the Lamborghini. At another unseen signal, the four began emptying their weapons into the car. Glass and metal flew, tires deflated, and in seconds what had been a quarter-million dollars of sex on wheels could barely be identified as a vehicle.
Carey put a hand onto Yosh’s arm, but was surprised to see him leaning toward the monitor with almost eager intent. “Come on, assholes. I painted her red and parked her exactly there just for you. You know you want to.” His words were the barest breath. “Closer.”
Two of the soldiers moved to the car, with two others covering them from just beyond. “Almost.” Yosh pulled something from his pocket. “Two more steps…”
Standing on either side of the car under the watchful guns of their fellows, the two soldiers pulled open the doors as Yosh’s fingers punched the remote in his hand. The screen lit then went dark as they were thrown to the floor by an explosion and massive shockwave. The light above flickered and went out briefly before coming back on.
“Everyone okay?” Jeffers’ voice sounded odd, far away beyond the ringing in her ears.
“Fine,” she said. “I guess that explains the Lambo’s parking spot.” Bain licked her face. She felt along her dog and let out a breath when she realized he was uninjured.
Yosh sat up, shaking his head, but his soft words dripped satisfaction. “And that’s what happens to people who murder cars.”
Jeffers was looking at some dials by the door. “We’ve got a problem.”
Yosh peered over his shoulder and frowned. “It’s the pump.” He tapped one of the dials and jiggled it. “Nothing.”
Director Jeffers looked at Carey. “This room is sealed so they can’t use gas on us. It has its own generator and oxygen supply. But it looks like the pump was damaged along with the hydraulics for our escape hatch.”
“Can you fix it?”
He shook his head as he placed his cellphone into a cradle under the darkened video monitor. “I’ll check with Claire.”
Both she and Yosh looked over his shoulder as he texted.
Jeffers: Emergency. Pump broken & air supply limited. Room: 10 foot cube. Options?
Claire: Checking options. Current status?
Jeffers: All OK. Report?
Claire: Laurel says Outs bringing in forces dressed as police and EMTs. Can you exit backdoor?
Jeffers: Negative. No hydraulics. Door won’t open from inside.
Claire: Report on life support. Oxygen fail irrelevant because C02@ lethal levels in approx. 4.25 hours.
Jeffers: Work on exit options. Symptoms of CO2 poisoning?
Claire: Early stages: muscle twitching, increased blood pressure, reduced brain activity. Then convulsions, erratic heartbeat & death.
Jeffers: Work FAST on exit options.
Claire: Will do. Getting excited will increase CO2 levels.
Jeffers: Then do not get us excited.
Claire: Yes sir.
»»•««
“We should all sit down.” Jeffers’ voice was its usual bark.
“Very calm,” muttered Carey. He glared at her.
Yosh smirked. “I’m calm.”
“Yeah, Rambo, you’ve had your mangasm blowing up your pretty car, and our air pump, and the door controls. And now that we’re stuck in a sealed box waiting to start twitching and, oh yeah, dying, you can sure relax. While we’re on the subject, who builds a safe room with an escape door that doesn’t have a manual control override?”
He grinned and hooked a thumb in Jeffers’ direction.
“Oh.” She looked down. “Sorry, sir. Remember what Claire said about staying calm.” She jumped as her own phone buzzed. “Hey, Claire.”
“Carey, I’m so glad this still works.” As always, Claire’s serene voice could have been discussing what she had for breakfast.
At Jeffers’ frown, Carey explained. “Claire was tired of me prank calling her office. She spelled a connection to my phone so she’d know it was me.”
She raised her phone. “I’m putting you on speaker. The Director and Yosh are with me. And Bain, of course.”
“Director, I have the spare remote. So we should be able to open the escape tunnel from the outside if someone can get close enough. But right now, it’s surrounded by Outsiders. And since we don’t know where the leak is in Accords, I can’t launch an all-out assault without giving away your location.”
He frowned. “No other options?”
The line was silent.
“Claire, remember the cow incident!” Carey didn’t try to keep the excitement out of her voice.
“Carey, I don’t think—”
Yosh interrupted. “What cow incident?”
“When we were in our last year at the Academy, someone put a cow into Director Jeffers’ living quarters on the top floor. He never figured out how it got in because there were alarms on all the doors, and the only codes used were his own.”
Carey ignored Claire’s moans coming from the phone because there was a strange sound coming from Jeffers. She might have called it a laugh, if she’d ever heard him laugh before.
“We didn’t know cows can only go up stairs, not down.” She frowned. “And we never did figure out how you got her out of there.”
“What does the cow incident have to do with this situation?”
“The cow ended up in your living room because, um…someone…spelled your door access panel over to the cow. So when she was going up the stairs, it just automatically put in your own code and let her in.”
A dull thump sounded from the phone. “Hey,” came a young voice. “I don’t think you should bump your head against the desk like that.”
“Who’s there?” barked Director Jeffers.
There was a pause. They waited.
Claire’s voice came over the line. “I’m still supervising Warden Parker’s ARC prisoner pending the hearing scheduled for tomorrow. She’s here with me. I’m sorry.” Another pause. “Carey, I want to get you out of there so I can kill you myself. What does the cow incident have to do with th
is?”
“Don’t you see? You can spell the remote onto one of the Outsiders up in the warehouse, and then when he passes by our escape door from that side, he’ll automatically set off the code. We might still have to fight our way out, but assuming we’re not having CO2 convulsions or heart attacks at the time, I think the three of us ought to be able take out enough Outsiders to get away.”
“Carey, that’s a much harder spell than anything I’ve ever done before. Not only is there a big distance, but I would have to jump it to someone I can’t even see. There are about a hundred ways that could go wrong.”
“Does anyone have a better idea? Preferably before we start convulsing?”
Silence.
Claire’s voice was quiet. “If I get it wrong, you could die.”
“Well, then you wouldn’t have to kill me for spilling about the cow incident. Win-win.”
“Okay. It will take me a while to prepare. How’s the charge holding up on your phone?”
“Only about twenty-five percent left.”
“I’ll call you back when I’m ready. And Carey? Try not to annoy Director Jeffers. You need to all stay calm.”
“When have I ever annoyed him?”
“Sir? I think you should probably knock her out now.”
“Bye, Claire.”
Carey pushed the talk button and set the phone next to Jeffers’ phone. Bain put his head on her lap, and the only sound was their breathing.
»»•««
After about ten minutes, Yosh sighed. “I don’t think we should depend on such a young witch.”
Carey was indignant. “Claire might be young, but she has more control than any other witch her age. Most witches can’t even hold a spell until they’re over forty.”
“Well, we can’t wait that long. I propose we open the main door and fight our way out before the Outsiders have a chance to regroup.”
They watched him move to the stairs and try the panel. “Damn.” He braced his shoulders and shoved against the door. Carey silently passed him an axe from an emergency box next to the fire extinguisher. He tried using the wood handle as a lever against the door seal panel. Sweat broke out on his face, and he was gasping before he lowered the axe. Nobody said a word as he came down the stairs and sat down next to Carey. Bain pushed between them to lie pressed against both their legs.