World Divided: Book Two of the Secret World Chronicle-ARC

by Mercedes Lackey; Steve Libby; Cody Martin

  Einhorn, hysterical, but what she said was clear enough, things she had inadvertently picked up from Bulwark. The assassins were Jack—Jack Something, the new head of Blacksnake, who was supposed to be making nice with Echo—and…Harmony?

  No wonder she never wanted me touching her…That was all Bella could think, numbly, as Vickie shoved the shower curtain aside and reached for her wet arm. Bulwark was hurt; Vickie didn’t know how badly.

  “Come on, we have to get out of here,” Vickie urged. “He knows where we are! We need to get out, get somewhere that no one can get to us while we figure out what to do!”

  “What? Who? Blacksnake?” She was baffled; they were way too low on the foodchain for Blacksnake to be interested in them. And she needed to get to Echo to help Bull—

  “No!” Vickie hissed. “Verdigris! Dominic Verdigris!”

  Bella stood there with water pouring over her head and wondered if Vickie had finally snapped. “Who? Why? Wh—”

  “Come on!” Vickie said, pulling her out of the shower in a surprising show of strength and throwing a towel over her. “He’s head of Echo! That psychotic sociopath is head of Echo! We have got to get somewhere he can’t find us until we can figure out what to do!”

  Completely confused now, Bella just toweled off and scrambled into clothing while Vickie blurted out the entire story in tense, terrified, and short sentences. By the time she was dressed, Bella was also convinced. Echo was now in the hands of someone who was not locked up in an Echo high-security prison only because he was so good at hiding his tracks he had never been caught. She couldn’t do anything to help Bulwark that others couldn’t do as well. First rule of firefighting: you can’t help others if you’re dead.

  “JM,” she said, finally. “No one knows where JM lives but Saviour and me. He’s barely on the grid and sure not on the radar.”

  “My car’s in the lot and I’ve thrown everything I need in it,” Vickie replied. “Let’s get out of here. Leave your Echo stuff behind. Nothing they can use to find you.”

  Vickie didn’t have to tell her twice.

  ***

  It had been an overly long day for John. The Commissar had a particular liking for twelve-hours-on, twelve-hours-off shifts. John made it a priority to check in with the neighborhood after his assigned duties. Tonight, that took up about three hours; there were a lot of wrecked cars that weren’t serving any purpose, so he helped to cut them into scrap with his fire. He had about another hour before he needed to pass out, to help stave off exhaustion; he wasn’t in the mood for yammering television, and he surely wasn’t in the mood for anything less than a screaming emergency. He left the little TV off, and turned his comm to “off duty” so nothing less than a full alert would get him. Right now a book and a beer sounded about right. Something by Heinlein, maybe.

  John had finally settled down on his battered mattress, cold beer and worn-out book in his hand when the knock came on his door. The front door downstairs is shut up tighter than Fort Knox. Sera doesn’t use doors. There shouldn’t be anyone knocking on that door. In an instant, John was up, his distractions forgotten. He had his old 1911 .45 pistol in his hand, and was off to the side from the door.

  “Who in the hell is it?”

  “Bella and Vic, and it’s an emergency, Johnny. Turn your frickin’ TV on.”

  John hesitated for a heartbeat, then opened the door. He only stayed long enough to verify that it really was Bella Blue and Vickie, then stuck the pistol in his waistband. “Come on in, gals.” He marched towards his TV set, turning the power on. “What am I supposed t’be seein’—”

  The frantic yammering of the talking heads and the graphic images of Alec Tesla’s corpse and the frantic search for the killers answered that question.

  John looked to Bella first. “Talk. What’s the sitch, kiddo?” What in all the nine hells has jumped into my lap, now?

  It was Vickie who answered, so wound up she didn’t even slump or try to make herself look invisible. “Look, I can tell you how I know all this later. Tesla was murdered by Blacksnake, but Blacksnake was ordered by Dominic Verdigris. And now Verdigris is in charge of Echo. Not Yankee Pride. He engineered it all, and what direct evidence I don’t have yet, I will have and I don’t know how much he knows already about us, our little conspiracy to get Tesla a spine and a pair or at least dance around him, or about Overwatch.”

  “Stop there. Blacksnake killed Tesla. Orders were from some dude named Verdigris. This fella is now in charge of Echo. Correct me if I’m wrong?”

  “Dominic Verdigris III, overt owner of Verdigris Dynamics, multibillionaire, and covert owner of more shadow companies than I can count off in five minutes. Psychopath, sociopath and a guy who poisoned all the water sources in Bombay post-Invasion so he could sell them water purifiers, then arranged for those to fail so he could ‘save’ them with ‘good’ water purifiers, and arranged for the contact that bought the bad ones to have a fatal accident…” Vickie paused briefly for a breath, but it looked as if she was about to launch into more.

  “Spare me the details, Vic. What’s important right now is that you an’ Blue here potentially have Blacksnake an’ Echo on your tails. Which means, we’ve gotta split from this spot immediately.” John was up and moving, walking towards the door. Vickie noticed that there was a bag set to the right side near the hinge; a “go bag,” obviously, with everything he’d need. He snatched it up. “If anyone knows you’re here, then they know me. If anyone knows me, they know you might be here. We’re on the move.”

  “My car’s downstairs.” She held out her hands; they were shaking. “Can you drive?”

  “Haven’t had a license in a number of years, but I figure that won’t stop me, will it?”

  “You’re with CCCP,” Bella said. “You have metahuman ally and diplomatic immunity for traffic stops. Where are we going?”

  “Easy. CCCP HQ, and not because they have diplomatic immunity; Blacksnake doesn’t give a shit ’bout that sorta thing. Bullets an’ bombs don’t stop killing because you’re ‘diplomatically immune.’ What the CCCP does have, however, are a bunch of commies that are more trigger happy than I am, and would love to perforate some mercs, given the chance.” John grinned. “Sound good to y’all?”

  “Better than good,” Bella replied. “What else do you need?”

  John slung the bag on his shoulder, then started towards a closet. He paused, turning to face Bella and Vickie. “Before we go on; how the hell did y’two get up here?”

  “I magicked the front door,” Vickie said. Her voice was starting to shake. “Locked it behind us.”

  “Make me a promise? Once all of this settles an’ I can actually come back here, make sure that no one can do what you did. Roger?”

  “Wilco.”

  He nodded, opening the closet door. From it, he pulled three rifles: one M4 carbine, and two AKMs. He kept the M4, while holding out the AKMs to Bella and Vic. “JIC, comrades.” Just in case.

  They nodded. Both of them took the rifles with body language that said they were comfortable with firearms. Bella examined hers; Vickie acted as if she was familiar already. “Variation on the AK-47, Bell,” Vickie said. “Soviet. Works the same.”

  Bella nodded. “Okay. Got a chance to play with those at that over-the-top range in Lost Wages.” She didn’t ask how Vickie got her obvious knowledge. “Point and hose, roger.”

  “Negative, comrade. You point, you squeeze, an’ you make ’em count. I don’t anticipate it, but if we get into trouble, you shoot ’em dead.” John shrugged as he loaded his cargo pockets with spare magazines. “Don’t matter much; if it’s a halfway decent ambush, we’re dead.” He nodded. “Ready, comrades?”

  Bella looked at Vickie, about to protest that it wasn’t possible for Blacksnake or anyone else to know what they were doing this soon. Then she snapped her mouth shut on the words. Vickie looked grim and terrified. John and Vickie were both convinced. She’d protest later. Maybe. “Ready.”

  Vicki
e nodded.

  “Rock an’ roll. Follow me, stay at the door on the ground floor. Wait for my commands. An’, above all, keep your eyes open. That’s important.” Without another word, he was out the door, his rifle at a low ready position. Bella followed. Vickie followed her, but was walking crabwise, semi-backwards, keeping her rifle in the same position but pointed back the way they had come—after securing the door to John’s squat. It was unnerving. Bella was used to combat now…but not this sort. Not where they might be the quarry of assassins.

  John moved quickly and confidently, scanning everything as he went. When they came to the front door, he motioned for them to stay put. Well, if someone’s gonna get shot right now, it’s gonna be me. John stepped to the door, keeping his rifle pressed against his right leg. He nodded at Bella, using the fingers on his off hand to indicate that he wanted her to keep an eye out. Vickie made as if to toss him the keys, but he held his hand up to stop her. “You’re gonna start it from the passenger side, Vic. I’ll drive, but I’ll be providin’ security until then.”

  They both nodded back. He unlocked, then kicked open the front door, Vickie took the opposite side of the doorframe from Bella without direction, her eyes going everywhere. John was on the ground, checking under the car, checking under the hood, in the tire rims, the trunk, anywhere something could have been messed with in the brief time the women had been upstairs. After two minutes, he was done. He motioned with his free hand for them to come up; immediately, his rifle was up from his side, and he was scanning every angle, looking for anything amiss.

  Vickie was out the door first, wrenched open the back car door, then the front, and went back-to-back with John and brought her own rifle up while Bella grabbed John’s bag and dove with it into the back seat, feeling as if the world had turned upside down as much as the day of the Invasion. Vickie kicked the door shut behind her, then popped into the front passenger seat, slammed her door and started the car. Then she brought her weapon up to cover the front while Bella did her best to cover the rear. John was in before the engine had fully turned over, slamming his door shut, putting the car into gear, and gunning the engine.

  “Keep watchin’ outside, an’ remember; this thing isn’t hardened. Bullets can come in an’ they can go out. Remember that, if y’need to fire.”

  “Try and keep the engine block betwixt us and harm, Johnny,” Vickie said.

  “If it’s a decent ambush, it’ll either be comin’ from one side, or from the front an’ the side. Our only options are to fight through, in any case. Let’s hope there ain’t any ambushes set up.” John was taking a long route to the CCCP HQ; he never walked this route, and certainly never rode it when he was on one of the issued Urals. Any patterns may have been noticed, and patterns made it easier for enemies to plot against a convoy or patrol.

  John fished the CCCP communicator from one of his pockets, keying the frequency for the base. “Gamayun, this is Unit 05, come in, over.”

  “Da, comrade. Was being to monitor your approach. Commissar has been giving permission to enter on arrival.”

  “Got two packages with me, high priority, how copy?”

  “Da, copy, and confirmed. Permission granted.”

  “Roger, they’ll be comin’ in first. Gotta get rid of somethin’ ’fore I make my grand entrance. Unit 05, over an’ out, comrade.” John glanced over his shoulder. “Y’all are gettin’ a fine welcome.”

  Vickie smiled weakly. “I alerted them. Gamayun probably knew we were heading here.”

  It took the trio twice as long as it normally should if they were traveling regularly to get to the back door of the HQ, but they arrived unmolested.

  “Sit tight. After I have the door open to the HQ, get in fast. I’ll drive the car off somewhere safe, an’ meet y’all back here.”

  “Johnny, I have a kit in the trunk. I need it,” Vickie said urgently.

  “I’ll bring it to the door, an’ drop it on the right once I’m inside. Roger?”

  “That’ll work. Don’t want you lugging anything on the way back.”

  “I have your go bag, JM,” Bella said from the rear seat.

  “Y’all are too kind.” John grinned again, and was out of the car. In a flash, he was at the rear entrance with Vickie’s kit, punching a code in. The door swung open; one of the CCCPers was there with another AKM, warily looking at the street. John placed Vic’s duffle bag and heavy backpack inside, then motioned for the two Echo operatives to come to him.

  Once again, Vickie was out first, bracing the AKM on the roof of the car while Bella scooted in the door with John’s bag, feeling entirely unnerved. Once she was inside, Vickie kicked the doors shut, dropped off of the car, bent over, and ran for the safe haven of the open door.

  “Best hook up with the Commissar, kids. I’ll take care of the car. Wish me luck.” Without waiting for an answer, John was back in the car. With a squeal of tires on gravel and asphalt, he was off and driving away into the destruction corridor.

  John drove fast, but carefully; between the rubble and the potential dangers of an ambush, he had to. Something still tugged at his mind, however. Victrix seemed particularly knowledgeable about what to do in the situation they had found themselves in. That sort of knowledge doesn’t come cheap, or easily. Or out of books. That’s training to the point where it’s reflex, and not necessarily Echo training. And that’s…interesting. He snapped back into the moment, scanning everything as he drove. Stash the car, exfil back to HQ, don’t get killed. Sounds like a plan.

  ***

  Red Saviour stared at both of them, face impassive. Bella sat numbly in the hard office chair, still trying to process what had just happened. Vickie, however, was pacing, gesturing, talking passionately.

  “…Verdigris has been on the FBI ‘want’ list for decades, which is why I’ve always kept track of him, but he uses so many shadow companies it’s next to impossible to even get hints of what he’s doing,” Vickie was saying. “So I started experimenting, and when I put Overwatch together I used an old, outdated machine for what I call my ‘Magic 8-Ball’ program. It doesn’t tell me a lot, and it doesn’t predict anything. What it does do, is sometimes gives me really simple answers to the question of ‘who did this, who is responsible’ for stuff that’s going on in the rest of the system. It doesn’t give me the proof, because it’s more than half magic, but it tells me an answer. Now the ‘who is responsible’ is limited to a set number of known troublemakers that I put in the 8-Ball. For instance, I didn’t bother with the Thulians in general, that wouldn’t be useful; I’ve got Doppelgaenger, Ubermensch, Valkyria in there, and if we get any other biggies, they’ll go in it too. Verd’s in there, so are some other high-profile types, and I didn’t limit them to who’s not in jail, because jail might not stop them from operating. It’s not consistent, and I don’t get a lot of hits, because it’s still an experiment, but the answers are reliable. And the second Tesla died, it popped up with Verdigris.” She ran both hands through hair that was damp and clumping with nervous sweat. “Commissar, I swear to you on my life, I know he did this. I don’t know if I’ll ever find the way to prove it, not with the kind of forensic evidence that would pass muster in a court case, but I know he did it. As for how he got Echo—Tesla said something a while back about ‘independent investors.’ I haven’t gotten a chance to snoop in the Echo financial records, but I should still have a couple back doors in there and I bet I’ll find two to three of Verd’s shadow companies that bought up enough stock to take over. I also bet I’ll find something in the company organization that screws up the succession, so the majority stockholder gets the CEO chair, and not Yankee Pride.”

  Finally she ran down, and slumped into a chair. And rather than answering, Saviour got up from hers. She went to one of the old-fashioned filing cabinets that lined the wall, unlocked and opened a drawer, and brought out a slim folder. Taking her seat again, she opened it.

  Someone rapped on the door. They all looked up. Untermensch poked his head i
n. “Murdock is returned. Vehicle is safe, no problems.”

  Saviour nodded, and Unter closed the door. Both Bella and Vickie sighed with relief. Bella would have hugged Unter if he’d stuck around. Guilt. She’d dragged Johnny into this.

  “On last trip from Moscow, I am having Moji bring me old case records from CCCP office,” she said, and her lip curled into a little sneer. “My father and Boryets are not seeing value of my old paper records, and let them go. Are forgetting lesson of Stasi and NKVD. Paper records cannot be, how you say, ‘jiggled with.’ And…da, Dominic Verdigris, this name I know.” Her face darkened. “And we, too, have had much suspicion and no proofs. Not even so much proof that I could be giving him boot to face to encourage talk, should he ever enter Russian border.” She looked down at the file, and Bella could feel the tension in her. “I believe you, Daughter of Rasputin. I believe you.” She shut the file. “First, you must be finding if he has even slightest of suspicion of you and sestra Blue, even hint he knows of Overwatch. You can do that?”

  Vickie nodded, slowly, and Bella heaved a sigh of relief. “It’ll be slower without the computer suite in my apartment, but yes, I can do that with what I have with me.”

  “We consider worst case first. If da, I offer you sanctuary, here.” Saviour spread her hands wide. “We do not know why Verdigris wishes Echo under thumb. It may be he has turned over new plant.”

  “Leaf,” Vickie corrected automatically. “Neither of us believes that, given how he did it.”

  “Truth. So…if he knows of you and Overwatch, we find out why he wants Echo, what he would do with you and Overwatch. You both will be welcome with us. If he does not know of you and Overwatch…” She paused. “You still will be welcome with us. Even cat.”

  Bella felt a tremendous weight of fear leave her. “Nat—”