The Liberty Box Trilogy

by C. A. Gray

  Here it comes.

  “You tell me everything you know about this community of refugees: where they are currently, and what their plans are. Also, I want to know everything you can tell us about MacNamera: what makes him tick, and what really gets under his skin.” He shrugged. “You tell us that, and we’ll let you and your brother both go free.”

  Charlie turned to look at me abruptly, and I could feel his eyes widen. But I didn’t look back at him.

  “I don’t care what you do to me,” I said. “I won’t tell you anything.”

  “Kate!” Charlie hissed. “What about me?”

  I folded my arms over my chest and glared at the Potentate.

  Voltolini didn’t seem at all surprised by this answer. “I suspected we might need a bit more persuasive powers on our side,” he said. “I recall hearing what you were like as a twelve year old, Kathryn. You were a little hellion, were you not?” He actually winked at me. Then he turned to the guards standing beside two elaborately carved wooden doors at the entrance, and signaled to them with his fingers. The guards pulled the door handles open, and two agents dragged my mom and dad in by their hair, guns pressed to their backs. Charlie sucked in a sharp breath, and I let out an involuntary scream as the guards forced my parents to their knees.

  Chapter 24: Kate

  “Let me ask you one more time,” said Voltolini, his voice smooth as silk. “The refugees: their locations? Their plans? MacNamera?”

  My mother trembled all over, and pleaded with me with her eyes. In them, I saw the peculiar combination of terror and shell shock that I had felt in the beginning, when I’d first woken up. They believed me now. They knew the truth.

  “Katie,” my dad begged me. “Tell them! Just tell them what they want to know!”

  I couldn’t move—my tongue nor any other part of me. I knew I couldn’t sacrifice my family. But could I sacrifice the refugees? Jackson? Will? One word from me and they’d all die.

  Suddenly a window up above shattered, and the agent holding my father collapsed. I blinked, and the agent holding my mother fell down dead too.

  Before I really understood what was happening, I looked at the Potentate—I knew he’d be next. But he had already disappeared.

  Then the Tribunal erupted into pandemonium. They’d all leapt to their feet, and one of them shouted to the agents on the floor, “Get Brandeis! Don’t let her esca—” But he crumpled before he could finish the words, a bullet through his throat.

  Most of the Tribunal members fled the room after that, but a few more of them fell before they could make it out. Armed guards flooded into the courtroom as soon as the shooting began, both on the floor, and up where the Tribunal had sat. But the guards ignored us, focused entirely on the upper windows. The shooter was still there, plucking off the armed guards one by one. The guards shot back with their semiautomatic weapons. The remaining windows shattered, but I wasn’t sure whose bullets had done it: theirs or the shooter’s.

  “Go!” I told Charlie, pointing at the ornate wooden doors, where the guards had dragged our parents in. “Go!”

  I ran toward my parents, still on their knees and in shock in the middle of the room. I hoisted my father to his feet from behind, hooking my hands underneath his armpits, and shoved him up. I did the same to my mom next, but she just fell to her knees again as soon as I let go.

  “Mom! Get up, we have to get out of here!”

  My mother started to cry. “Oh, Kathryn!” She buried her face in her hands, and did not budge.

  Desperately, I looked at my father, but he just bleated over and over, “I can’t understand. I just can’t understand…”

  I wasn’t strong enough to drag even one of them by myself. I looked at Charlie, who’d already peered out the main wooden doors and come back. He shook his head at me grimly.

  “Two more armored guards out there. I guess the rest are on a manhunt for the shooter, but we still can’t get out that way.”

  The shooter. I knew exactly who he had to be—if we could only get to him.

  “Get Mom and Dad on their feet! Meet me up there!” I shouted to Charlie, pointing at the door behind the Tribunal’s seating, where the Potentate had entered the room and where most of them had fled when the shooting began. I had no idea where that door led, but it was the only other way out of the room. Then I dashed back onto the courtroom floor.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Charlie demanded.

  “Getting weapons!”

  I reached the body of a fallen guard, and pried the semiautomatic from his fingers. I had no idea how to use it, but how hard could it be?

  Also, I was pretty sure the guards’ weapons were only loaded with blanks… but here on the grid, would that matter? Anyone I had reason to shoot at would think they were real, and they would die just the same. Just like Kenny and Andrew had.

  I took an assault rifle from another guard, remembering what Jackson had told me about the accuracy of rifles, though they were harder to transport. I started to lift a pistol too, wanting to collect four guns, one for each of us. But then I realized there was probably no point in giving a weapon to my parents. They were in no condition to do much of anything at the moment. I tucked two pistols into my waistband anyway, hoisted the rifle and the semiautomatic in one arm each, and ran toward the stairs behind the podium and the door to the now-empty corridor. Charlie struggled up the stairs ahead of me, dragging our parents behind him. They stumbled along, more a detriment than a help.

  “We have to get outside, as fast as possible!” I told Charlie. But we weren’t going anywhere fast with my mom and dad. “Maybe—” I looked up at the horizontal windows, but they were too high and there was no way to climb up to them.

  I pushed past Charlie and sprinted into the hall ahead of them, looking for a way out. The hall led to a catwalk to another part of the palace, all encased in glass. I’d wanted a window we could crawl through, but this one was too high to do us any good.

  Then I saw a little room just before the catwalk. I ducked in there to investigate: it was a little dressing room, with a half bathroom in the back of it. The bathroom had a frosted window across from its sink.

  I flipped the rifle around to its backside and rammed it into the window with all my might. It shattered.

  “Katie?” cried my father behind me, still struggling against Charlie.

  “In here!” I called to them. Now the trick was just getting up to the window… but I could use the edge of the sink for a leg up. I put the assault rifle and the semiautomatic on the ground and balanced on the edge of the sink with my hand pressed against the wall beside the window. Then I set about clearing the glass shards from the windowsill to keep from ripping me to shreds as I slid through it. As I did so, I peered outside, and breathed a sigh of relief. The roof was only a few feet below the edge of the window, maybe seven or so. We could hang on the edge of the sill and just drop to it with no problem, provided we didn’t stumble backwards too far and plummet to our deaths on the lawn below.

  I didn’t know whether my parents would be capable of any of this, but if we didn’t get out now, none of us would survive.

  “Kate, what—?” Charlie had arrived behind me, but the question died in his throat because presumably he could see exactly what I had in mind.

  “It’s not a far drop, and I think it’s the only way out. Come on.”

  “There have to be guards on the roof! That’s where the shooter was! I’m sure he’s long gone by now, but—”

  “He’s not long gone, he’s waiting for me. He’s still out there somewhere. He can get us out of here!”

  “Who?”

  A burst of gunfire erupted from the roof, and I froze, even as I plucked the last shard out of the windowsill.

  You have to do this, Kate. Even as another burst of gunfire erupted, I hoisted my knee to the sill, swung my body around, and looked at Charlie and my terrified parents, still crouching in the little bathroom.


  “Toss the guns down to me first, and then follow me as fast as you can! I’ll wait for you down there!”

  I hung by my hands for a split second before dropping to the roof below. Instinctively I crouched when I landed, trying to take cover, but there was none to be had.

  Charlie dropped the semiautomatic down to me as I cringed away from it, frightened that the impact would set it firing. I still wasn’t sure what deep impact bullets would do to me, since my ability to see truth was patchy at best. But it landed without incident, so I moved it out of the way before Charlie dropped the assault rifle next. Then I watched as my mother crawled up to the sill, painfully slowly and begging Charlie, “Don’t make me do this! I can’t do this, please don’t make me! I can’t, I just can’t!”

  They are going to get us killed, I thought, dazed. Another burst of gunshot erupted from somewhere on the roof, followed by a few muted explosions like the ones that had killed the Tribunal members.

  Jackson’s still here. A wave of hope succeeded my wave of terror.

  “Come on, Mom, you can do it!” I begged, keeping my voice as low as I could.

  She hung from her hands on the sill now, sobbing. “I can’t, I can’t!”

  “You have to!” I hissed. “Let go!”

  Tired of waiting for her, Charlie started to pry her fingers off the sill. She began to scream. I looked around, frantic.

  “Charlie, no! They’ll hear her!”

  My mom finally couldn’t hold on anymore, falling to her feet and then to her knees, wailing all the time. I ran over to her and clamped my hand over her mouth.

  “Mom, you have to be quiet! There are guards on this roof, and they will hear you, and they will kill us!”

  I pulled her out of the way so that my dad could clear the window next. Then I grabbed the assault rifle, aiming it in the direction of the last burst of gunfire while I waited for Charlie and my dad—there was no way the guards hadn’t heard my mom’s screams. They’d be headed this way to investigate any minute.

  There was a thud behind me, and my dad ran over to my mom, pulling her into his arms. Just then, a guard came into view.

  “There!” he pointed, shouting over his shoulder.

  Close your non-dominant eye, I told myself. Aim halfway between the target and the end of your weapon. I said a quiet prayer, and pulled the trigger. The guard collapsed, just as I heard the last thud of my brother hitting the roof behind us.

  “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Charlie demanded.

  “Shh!” I hissed. The fallen guard had already alerted one of his buddies. He’d come into view any second now… and…

  There he was, running toward us, weapon drawn. I aimed, pulled the trigger—and missed. The bullet would have hit him if he’d stayed still, but he kept coming, now taking aim at me. I had no cover at all.

  “Kat-IE!” wailed my father.

  I fired again, and missed—but a split second later, the guard fell face down on the roof anyway, a bullet through his forehead.

  I whipped around, and saw Jackson standing right behind us.

  Chapter 25: Ben Voltolini

  Before Voltolini knew what was happening, his personal guards had whisked him out of the courtroom and into the corridor. One of them ran in front of him down the glass catwalk, and the other followed behind.

  “What happened?” Voltolini demanded.

  “Terrorist attack,” said his guard Kurtzman, behind him.

  “Do not let Brandeis escape!”

  “We won’t, Your Excellency.” They reached the main part of the palace, and led the Potentate into a windowless room. A few members of the Tribunal followed him—among them, Jefferson Collins, the speaker. He was sweating profusely.

  Voltolini did not like being holed up in a windowless room, even if it was for his own protection. He stood up, dumped his black robes onto a straight backed chair, and paced, swearing as he went. He did not like not knowing what was happening outside, either. He did not like the feeling of being out of control.

  “Where’s the rest of the Tribunal?” he demanded, looking around at only the seven who had entered the safe room after him. There had been fifteen in the courtroom.

  “Shot, your Excellency,” murmured Collins, wiping his dripping brow. “I didn’t see how many—”

  Voltolini swore again. He opened the door from the safe room and peeked into the corridor to see Kurtzman standing guard with his semiautomatic.

  “Give me a report!” he demanded. “Who is up there, and is Brandeis still in custody or dead?”

  Kurtzman’s receiver crackled, but no words came through. He glanced at Voltolini, not wanting to tell him what he knew so far, but knew he had no choice.

  “The sniper picked off all the guards who ran into the courtroom after the shooting began,” he said finally. “It appears Brandeis and her family escaped through the bathroom window just outside the courtroom, and they are on the roof. We can only assume the shooter is MacNamera, since we already knew he was back on Republic soil just yesterday. He must have come to rescue her, but we don’t yet know whether they’ve been reunited.”

  Voltolini swore again. “Get our media team here! I want their deaths reported live! Film the whole thing!”

  Kurtzman’s receiver crackled again, and he picked it up, speaking into it rapidly.

  “What?” he demanded. “Where did you hear this from?” Pause. More crackling. “The east coast? How did we—” he shook his head, looking at Voltolini. “I will inform the Potentate immediately.”

  “Tell me MacNamera and Brandeis are in custody or dead,” demanded Voltolini through gritted teeth.

  Kurtzman shook his head, but he was still smiling. “No, your Excellency—but we have caught four more of the refugees red-handed. They appear to be some of the group leaders. They’re willing to talk.”

  Voltolini’s eyes narrowed. “Air it,” he commanded. “The whole thing. The interrogation, and their executions.”

  Kurtzman’s eyebrows shot up. “Execute them anyway? Even if they tell us what we want to know?”

  “Absolutely. We have a strict policy in the Republic of not negotiating with terrorists.”

  Chapter 26: Jackson

  I’d started to wonder if I’d ever see Kate alive again.

  “Nice shot,” I told her, reaching a hand down to help her to her feet. I pulled her into a quick hug. She squeezed back, hard. She was trembling.

  “What do you mean, nice shot?” she said when she pulled back, “I missed!”

  “You didn’t miss the first time.” She didn’t seem surprised to see me, I noted. Relieved, yes, but not surprised.

  I nodded to her family then, by way of introduction, and pointed at the semiautomatic in Charlie’s hands.

  “You know how to use those things?”

  He shrugged. “I can figure it out.”

  Good enough. “Don’t hesitate to use it then. This place is crawling with guards, and they know I’m still up here.” I turned my pistol around and handed it to Kate, reaching for her assault rifle. “I’ll trade you. Doubt you can run well with that thing.”

  “Who… who are you?” asked Kate’s mother in a quavering voice.

  “I’m a friend. Introductions later,” I told her. Probably best that she didn’t recognize me from the news broadcasts yet. I figured she’d make that connection once the shock wore off. “Right now we’ve gotta get out of here,” I told them all. “Follow me, stay low as much as possible, and try to keep up.”

  Fortunately I’d been forced to learn the intricacies of the palace rooftop on my way up. We’d have to cross over the top of the catwalk to the main palace roof, and from there we could climb down—the catwalk was the most exposed part of the whole roof, though. Before we reached it, I held up an arm to signal the others to stop behind me. I saw just the very the top of a head behind a parapet some hundred and fifty yards away, guarding the catwalk. I silently th
anked Kate for having the foresight to grab an assault rifle, as I probably couldn’t have made that shot with anything else. I took aim, and fired. The top of the head vanished, and I saw a limp hand appear from beyond the edge of the parapet a split second later.

  “He was the only one guarding the catwalk,” I said. I neither saw nor sensed anybody else. They must’ve thought we’d already gotten beyond it. “Let’s go.”

  The catwalk was quite narrow, and there were no guard rails, as it wasn’t meant to be crossed from above. Behind me, I heard both Charlie and Kate cajoling their parents.

  “I can’t, I just can’t!” their mom repeated, like a mantra.

  “Mom, you have to,” said Charlie. “Come on, one step at a time. You can do it…”

  “No, I can’t, I—no! NO!”

  “Charlie, stop forcing her! Can’t you see she’s terrified?” Kate’s dad cried.

  “You want to just stay here and get shot then?” Charlie retorted at them both.

  I bit my lip. This isn’t going to work. We really had to move. Another guard would replace the one I’d shot in no time. But if we couldn’t get Kate’s parents out of their fixed mindsets, we’d get nowhere fast, and they’d likely get us all killed. I had to do something.

  “Duck around here,” I told them, pointing at a parapet on our side of the roof. I grabbed Kate’s mother by the hand, clutching my assault rifle with the other, and jogging so she would be forced to keep up.

  “What are you doing? Stop! Stop!” she shouted, struggling against me. I held my grip firm, though, and I could hear her start to hyperventilate. I ignored this and pulled her around so that the parapet covered us completely, at least from the view of the catwalk. Then I glanced around to make sure the coast was clear.

  “Sit down, all four of you, and do exactly as I say.”

  Kate sat down immediately. Charlie eyed me for a moment, like he thought this was a very odd command, but he obeyed too. Then he yanked on his dad’s hand, who also sat, and pulled their mother down too.