CARINA

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CARINA Page 7

by Alison Morton


  ‘Off you go, then, dear.’ The older woman’s voice was light, as if laughing.

  ‘You—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  Rustling noise again and a door opening. Vibiana emerged, followed by Dubnus. He crossed his arms and smirked at her.

  ‘You can find your own way back.’

  ‘I thought you were supposed to protect me.’ She looked as cross as Hades.

  ‘We’ve done our bit. Now piss off.’

  ‘Bloody Praetorians!’

  I let her stomp down the street in the slush before having the cab pull up a few metres ahead of her. As I got out I glanced back to make sure Dubnus wasn’t watching, but he’d disappeared and it was unlikely he’d recognise me at this distance in the gloom.

  ‘Get in,’ I said, holding the door open for her. I hadn’t understood before what a ‘fulminating look’ meant. Now I knew.

  * * *

  Back at my hotel, the rental SUV was waiting; snow was gently settling on its grey roof. I signed the paperwork and the driver trudged off down the street not having said a word more than necessary. I didn’t tip him. Flavius, his bag by the side of his chair, was waiting in the small lobby. Even though the light was dim, he looked pale apart from the large bruise covering his left cheek.

  ‘At last. I thought you’d got lost.’ He smiled at me and his face transformed from the ordinary into the dazzling. He winced. ‘I got them to pack your bag so we can leave straightaway.’ He glanced over at Vibiana who was getting a soda and a snack bar at the machine. Flavius eased himself up, catching his breath, but waved my hand away. I handed him the keys, leant towards him and whispered.

  ‘Get in and set the navigator to Toronto.’

  ‘Can we cross the border now?’ he said in an equally low voice.

  ‘I haven’t heard back about our new extraction point, but we need to get out of the city and that’s as good a place to head to as any.’

  * * *

  Anxious to the point of paranoia at its entry points, the Autonomous City of New York didn’t seem to care who left. After a cursory look at the passports Flavius and I showed – Vibiana was back in the trunk – we were waved through in a second. Once out of view, I released Vibiana and soon we were out on the freeway, cruising at one mile per hour less than the limit. Flavius frowned when I edged it over. He was right; we didn’t want to be stopped by the cops for something as stupid as speeding. At the first rest area, I took Vibiana into the women’s bathroom. I took hold of her arm, leant into her and whispered direct into her ear to strip to her underwear.

  ‘What? You’re joking. It’s freezing.’

  ‘Better freezing for a few minutes than dead,’ I whispered again. ‘Hurry up. We don’t want any interruptions. And keep your voice down.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She hissed at me.

  ‘Dubnus and his buddy may have planted Mars knows how many bugs on you. Luckily, he’s not a specialist so we should find them easily.’

  ‘Mercury, will this never end?’

  ‘Dubnus could be listening now to everything you say, or tracking us. You’re supposed to be an investigator, so you must be aware of this kind of thing.’

  ‘We don’t descend to using this kind of spying gadget.’ She looked down her nose at me as if I were something crawling across the floor. At least I wasn’t as dirty as the floor we were standing on.

  ‘Nevertheless, you will submit to a search.’ I looked at her steadily and waited.

  ‘Oh, very well.’ She threw her coat at me.

  * * *

  She was clean.

  Toronto was a good seven hours away, but I wasn’t happy about attempting the border even if we mingled with the tourists going through near Buffalo Creek. Apart from the crossing itself, the Canadians would be watching from their observation point at Fort Erie on the other side and would send us pleasantly but firmly back to the EUS within the hour if there was the least irregularity.

  We’d been on the road for an hour. Luckily, it had stopped snowing, but the falling temperature would mean ice on the road. A faint snore erupted regularly from the back from Vibiana. Flavius sat in the front passenger seat, tense, eyes closed and getting paler by the minute. I pulled over.

  ‘What?’ Flavius jerked awake.

  ‘Nothing, it’s okay.’ I jumped out, pulled the rear door open and poked at Vibiana. ‘Time to wake up.’ She blinked, then frowned at me.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Swap with Optio Flavius. He needs to lie horizontal.’

  ‘He looks perfectly comfortable to me. I need the rest.’

  ‘Gods, Vibiana, can’t you see he’s in pain? Every jolt on this freeway is like a gladius jab. Now get out.’

  ‘I’m all right, Bruna, really,’ Flavius said, his stiff jaw and wince on his face lying for him.

  ‘Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Flav. In the back and lie down.’

  Both were about to argue more when my cell phone pinged. Conrad had sent our exfiltration point.

  11

  Cumberland Field was flat, icy and deserted; three hangars for the aero club, a wide lane of passive reflective markers that winked at us in our headlights as we swept round onto the access road. I slowed down and killed the headlights. At the entrance, a lightweight padlocked chain held two chain-link gates together. Normally, Flavius and I would have climbed over, but at present he couldn’t and I was pretty sure Vibiana wouldn’t. I drove on fifty metres and pulled over to the edge of the road by some trees.

  I checked the likely temperature. The forecast was for –1 °C lowest. We’d sit it out here. I checked the zipped section at the back of Flavius’s bag. He still had his thermal blanket. I ripped off the cover and wrapped it round him, turning him gently, I thought.

  ‘Ow, Bruna, watch it,’ he yelled.

  ‘Well, it’s this or freeze.’

  ‘Great choice.’ He grunted, but let me finish. He had his coat and hat, and I tucked another blanket from the box in the trunk around him. I fetched two more for Vibiana.

  ‘Now bundle up and stay as warm as possible.’ I opened the driver’s door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Vibiana grabbed my arm, panic in her eyes.

  ‘To make sure we can get in quickly when we need to.’

  I gave Flavius the keys; I didn’t trust Vibiana not to drive away and leave me stranded.

  I closed the door quietly and trotted down the road. After checking both ways there were no moving lights indicating vehicles, I ran across to the airfield gates. The padlock was a standard hardware one – no real protection. I still had the set of picks Nonna had given me when I’d joined the Praetorian Guard. ‘Never let them go out of hands’ reach,’ she’d said and told me how hers had saved her and Senator Calavia’s lives during the Great Rebellion. Three minutes later, despite my cold fingers, the shackle sprang open from the padlock. I left the chain still looped through the gates with the open padlock connecting it as if closed, and ran back to the SUV.

  Vibiana had dozed off. I wrapped my own thermal blanket round my legs and feet.

  Now we would wait.

  Nobody was chasing us that we knew; O’Keefe hadn’t made good on her threat and we were five hours away from New York. I was surprised Dubnus let Vibiana go like that. I suppose she’d served her purpose. I’d found no bugs in her clothes or bag and despite her complaining I’d scanned her in her underwear as well, just to be sure. But why weren’t they worried she’d go to the authorities back in Roma Nova? I didn’t want to stick around here to find out.

  Apart from her Roma Novan passport which was bound to be on a watch list by now, Vibiana had no papers – Dubnus had kept them – and Flavius and I were here in the EUS under false passports. I’d been forced to use my real one for the car rental and in facing off O’Keefe. I shivered. Despite my sturdy thrift shop coat, scarf, woollen gloves and hat, I felt cold. I guess I was tired. I’d driven for nearly five hours after a tense day and my eyes were p
rickling. It was nearly midnight. I locked the vehicle doors, lay my phone in my lap, volume set to max, inserted the headphones into my ears and closed my eyes.

  * * *

  The ping pierced my brain so painfully I thought my eyes would pop out. I shook my head, then looked at the screen. They were forty minutes away. Gods. I let out a deep breath which plumed in the chill. The window was covered in ice.

  ‘Wake up!’ I prodded Vibiana. ‘Wake up, will you?’

  ‘Mm?’ She didn’t even open her eyes. It was nearly black out there. Even the moon was shy behind the cloud cover. I checked my watch. Five-thirty. Sunrise wasn’t until just before seven. I reckoned it was safe to start the engine and warm us up. Gods, it sounded so loud, but the light frost slipped off the windows with the auxiliary heater going full blast. After five minutes, I reversed and stopped at the airfield gates.

  I made Vibiana get out and open the gates, then shut them behind us once inside. I jumped out and relocked them.

  ‘But suppose we need to get out again…’ she said.

  ‘We’re not going out that way, so no problem.’

  I drove up to the first hangar, but that was too open to view. So was the second. But the third was perfect, nestled behind the other two. We parked up by the side. Another ping. Twenty minutes. I wrote a note of apology to the airfield club asking them to contact the rental company to collect the SUV and charge my card. I left a hundred dollar note on the seat as a ‘donation’.

  A faint buzz, then a rumble followed moments later by a roar as the plane dropped out of the cloud then quickly embraced the ground. It bounced along the turf runway, taxied back, then turned ready for take-off. It had no markings but strange angles to its wings and as far as I could see in the faint light it was a dark grey with some lighter patches. A metal ladder burst out of the plane. We grabbed our bags and hurried towards it. A blue-uniformed figure beckoned us urgently. Her white cloth badge was just visible in the pre-dawn light. Imperial Air Force.

  ‘Hurry!’

  ‘We have one wounded and one civilian,’ I called out and pushed Vibiana forward. The airwoman jumped out, grabbed Vibiana and gave her a shoulder up to the ladder. She had to do it twice and breathed heavily afterward. I bent and gave Flavius the same, but more gently, then passed the bags up. Then I heard the sirens. I peered over towards the access road. Blue and red flashing lights. They weren’t New York cops – they must be feds. Gods! O’Keefe. How had she tracked us?

  ‘Are you going to be all day, looking at the scenery? The pilot’s rather anxious to go.’ I jerked my head round. Then I heard that rich, sexy, masculine laugh. His face appeared in the doorway. Conrad. I grasped the lowest rung of the ladder and hauled myself up. He grabbed me and I heard the faint scrape of the retracting ladder and the slam of the door.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but the senior airwoman got in first and thrust a cloth bag at me, then one at Vibiana.

  ‘In the bag you’ll find a flight suit. Put it over your first layer of street clothes and pull the hood over your head. Anything metal – earrings, watches, phones, belts – and any small stuff, put it into the bag. Your coats, give to me.’

  I stripped off down to my sweater and pants, shed my metalwork and pulled on my suit.

  ‘Not again!’ Vibiana put on her bullish face.

  ‘If you don’t get that suit on within the next two minutes, you’ll be out of the plane,’ the airwoman retorted.

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘It’s a stealth plane. We need to be stealthy. That’s a stealth suit. Now put it on.’ She gave Vibiana such a fierce look, I was surprised she wasn’t incinerated on the spot.

  ‘What about him?’ Vibiana was struggling into the flight suit and losing her balance as the plane taxied along the bumpy surface. I reached out and steadied her. She jabbed a finger in Flavius’s direction. He was lying on the floor and taking shallow breaths.

  ‘He’ll be wrapped in shielding blankets. Now sit over there and don’t make any noise beyond breathing.’

  Surprisingly, Vibiana did as she was told. Conrad smiled in sympathy at the senior airwoman, who rolled her eyes. He took my hand and we found two jump seats away from Vibiana. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but the benefit of the stealth lining meant every surface was padded with the shielding material. The cabin went dark. I sensed Conrad bend down, then his lip touched the lobe of my ear. A tingle ran through me.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered back. I was only too pleased to be on this transport, safe with Conrad.

  ‘I’ll explain when we refuel at Keflavik in a few hours. We have to go silent for the moment.’

  I squeezed his hand and laid my head on his shoulder. His arm came up and folded me into him.

  12

  The landing was a lot smoother at the Keflavik air base but we taxied for an age. We had no windows, of course, but I calculated it had to be around 3–4 p.m. local time allowing for flying through several time zones. When the door opened at last, hangar lights almost blinded me. I guess it made sense to be under cover hidden from human and satellite view.

  A smiling face topped with bleach blond hair appeared in the doorway. We stood and grabbed hold of the airframe struts for balance but kept back from the hatch, out of view from the outside.

  ‘Colonel Mitelus? Captain Einar Jónsson of the Royal Icelandic Coastguard. Welcome to Keflavik Air Base. Any of your people want to stretch their legs while we refuel?’ His tone was innocent, but his eyes narrowed.

  ‘No, thank you, we’re well rested and we’ll be fine.’ Conrad gave Captain Jónsson one of his over-cheerful smiles that batted the ball back to the Icelander. I pulled my hood further over my forehead. Although two crew needed to go outside, they wore blue disruptive pattern field caps with the peak well over their eyes. No way did we want any videos or stills of any other individual Roma Novans, military or civilians, being made for any kind of intelligence gathering. We had good relations with the Nordic League, but you never knew…

  When Conrad finished the obligatory inter-service chit-chat with Jónsson, I pointed to his neck. The fastening strip of his stealth suit had come partly undone when he’d pushed the hood off to talk to Jónsson and his fatigues jacket showed through. But instead of the black embroidered oak leaf on each collar point, there were grey lictor’s fasces with protruding axe. And Jónsson had called him Colonel Mitelus.

  ‘Yes, my promotion came through.’ I saw the flash of his smile and his eyes gleam. ‘Not without a fairly intense set of interviews and tests. I’ll deny it,’ he whispered, ‘but I think Legate Vara giving me only an average report piqued the interview board’s interest.’

  That figured. I know he was my love, but I was very proud he had been A-rated throughout his career. To suddenly catch a mediocre report must have looked odd.

  ‘So what are you doing here?’ Senior officers who were newly promoted colonels and deputy legates didn’t usually come out into the field. Not that I wasn’t really pleased to see him. In the half light, his hazel eyes shone.

  ‘Officially, I’m observing our latest stealth plane. Unofficially, I wanted to see you, of course. I also want to know what in Hades is going on with this Vibiana business and that little bastard Dubnus. But first things first.’ He glanced around. The pilot and co-pilot were busy doing checks and Vibiana still had her eyes closed. He bent towards me, his throat muscles stretching under the tan skin. He pulled me to him. Through the chemical smell of the stealth suit, I smelt his warm, masculine scent. I bent back and moved my head up and my lips found his. The warmth of his mouth on mine – I wanted to devour him. His fingers shaped themselves round the back of my head as he pressed me to him. I wound my arms round his waist and clenched them together, never wanting to release him.

  A cough.

  ‘Hm?’ Conrad released my lips barely enough to emit that tiny sound. I took a quick breath.

  ‘Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but ten minutes
to departure.’

  Gods, how long had we been in another world?

  ‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Conrad stood up to his full height and bumped his head on an airframe crosspiece. I transformed a giggle into a cough. He frowned at me, then grinned. ‘I’d better say vale to Jónsson. They’ve been very helpful.’ He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek then spoke to the senior airwoman. Jónsson reappeared; they shook hands after a few words and the door shut.

  * * *

  We landed at Brancadorum Imperial Air Force Base rather than the military side of Portus Airport outside Roma Nova city. Flavius was taken to the airbase sick bay; he was running a fever. I hated leaving him but the air force medics would look after him for now. Conrad went forward and thanked the pilots; he left me to sort out Vibiana. I didn’t know how she managed to be so disagreeable all the time. Maybe I rubbed her up the wrong way or maybe she was super grumpy by nature.

  ‘I just want to go home. And I have to file a report with the Silver Guild and hand them over the recovered element. Why should I go with you?’

  ‘First of all, you’re still under arrest for treason under the provisions of Table Eight so you have no option.’ I held my hand up before she could reply. ‘And hasn’t it occurred to you that Dubnus and his buddy let you go too easily? Don’t take this personally, but why aren’t you dead?’

  ‘Why, you—’

  ‘Enough.’ Conrad. ‘Marcia Vibiana, you are likely to be in some danger. It could be personal, legal, physical or something else. For your own protection, you are to remain hidden.’ He glanced at me. ‘I’ve messaged Countess Mitela for her permission for you to stay with us for the moment.’

  * * *

  None of us said anything as we rode in the anonymous sedan. Apart from the headlights and coloured glows on the instrument panel, it was pitch dark. And it was sleeting. What in Hades did Conrad think he was doing inviting Vibiana into our home? Couldn’t she have gone to one of the PGSF safe houses? Well, Nonna had given her permission so I was stuck with it. Further on, the lights of the suburbs flitting by lit up their faces intermittently; Conrad’s wore an impassive expression and Vibiana the usual pained one with tight eyes and turned down mouth.

 

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