In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1)

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In Irina's Cards (The Variant Conspiracy #1) Page 22

by Christine Hart


  “So that’s a yes.” I felt a stab of shock, but I believed her immediately.

  “I used to get in fights. Often. Now I’ve got roller derby. Sorry, I had roller derby,” she said. I could still feel some hostility in her voice. “We should get some sleep.” Faith promptly turned her back on me and curled up on her end of the bench.

  I wanted to ask more questions. What was going to happen to us? Jail until a trial? Would there be a trial? What would happen if we were found guilty? I looked over and saw that she had already closed her eyes. I surveyed the rest of the room, still trying to blot out the stench of countless other intoxicated visitors to that cell. I wracked my brain for some way to spark a vision, hoping I’d see a future in which all of this worked out all right. But the prospect of placing even a knuckle or a fingernail on the walls or floors produced a fresh wave of nausea. So I copied Faith, again, and curled up on my side of the bench, closed my eyes, and waited for sleep.

  It was no good. I got up and paced. Our bags and phones had been taken, leaving us literally nothing to do. I stood and thought–about Ivan and what he wanted from his testing on variants, about Jonah and my feelings for him, and then about his health. I thought about going to Vancouver and what we would do when we found another Innoviro office or lab.

  I stared across the hall at the frosted glass window and the mottled orange light of the streetlight behind the glass. I heard a click-creak from down the hall.

  A long moment passed between the sound of the door closing and the clicking footsteps that followed. It wasn’t the click of high heels, but rather the deeper sound of men’s dress shoes. Since I was sure no lawyer would come to see us in the middle of the night, I braced myself for something unpleasant.

  The clacking footsteps came closer. A slight and freckle-faced officer approached us leading a large barrel-shaped woman. The officer stood slightly shorter, yet much narrower than the woman. The new prisoner seemed familiar. Her hair was shaved into combination of a pixie and a crew cut. Her dingy hooded sweatshirt stretched tight across her solid chest. As I stared at her arms, I noticed the lines where muscles bulged off each bicep. I wanted Faith to wake up immediately to bring her roller derby personality into the situation.

  “Faith, wake your lazy ass up,” said the stocky woman.

  The officer unlocked the cell door and slid it sideways along the wall of bars.

  “Irina, it’s us. Go wake Faith so we can get the hell out of here,” said the police officer.

  “What now? Us who?” I said with a confused frown. Television drama scenes of prison violence played out in my mind. I sized up the officer’s build. He was no match for the woman whose arm he held, let alone the combination of three healthy girls.

  “Dude, she can’t see through it. That’s probably a good thing, right?” said the stocky woman. Her voice sounded distinctly male the second time.

  “Cole? Is that you? Ilya?” I asked.

  “There you go!” said officer Ilya. As I concentrated and focused on his face, the image flickered, shimmering like waves of heat over pavement on a hot summer day. Ilya was underneath, but as soon as I looked away and back again, the officer was restored. Cole had woken Faith and had her standing up, taking in the scene.

  “I have to say, you make a really ugly chick.” Faith grinned at her brother’s expense.

  “Do you want out of here, or what?” said Cole.

  Faith smiled again and walked past us out into the corridor.

  “We don’t have much more time. I can’t maintain this disguise longer than a few more minutes. I’m not sure I got this officer’s features right. People are a lot harder to change than scenery. And the real guy could stroll back in here anytime,” said Ilya as he marched ahead. “Visuals aside, being someone else is really tricky. You can’t duplicate their memories, knowledge, personality . . . it doesn’t last long or end well,” Ilya whispered as we got to the end of the hall and went up a short flight of stairs. We emerged into the office space we’d passed through hours earlier. “Now everybody, shut up!” he hissed back down the stairs.

  Ilya walked purposefully, but slowly through the office. We all kept pace close behind him. I ventured a quick glance around the partially lit floor. Where bodies and voices had formed a hub of activity, rows of empty chairs and piles of perfectly still papers remained. A few people sat at their desks. Doors on either side of the room were all closed. None of the people at their desks even looked up, let alone challenged our exit.

  Fortunately, Ilya’s mental strength held out and we glided past the desks and out the front door. We were halfway down the block before anyone spoke.

  “Remind me to keep you in the loop anytime I’m doing something I might get arrested for,” said Faith.

  Ilya and Cole stayed ahead and rounded the first corner. I saw Cole’s car parked another half block away.

  “You’re lucky I can hear Irina from that far away,” said Ilya.

  “I was wondering how you knew where to find us,” I said. “Wait, so you were listening to every thought I had?”

  “Just while you were here. When you and Faith didn’t come back, I reached out for you. I couldn’t hear Faith, but you were thinking about how boring and horrifically awful-smelling the drunk tank was. I didn’t have to listen for much longer to figure out what happened,” said Ilya. We arrived at Cole’s car where he promptly crawled over the driver’s seat to unlock every other door from there.

  “Good thing I had my second set of car keys handy,” said Cole.

  “Hey, at least we got picked up before we made it to your car. Saves the hassle of trying to pluck the car out of an impound lot after finding us in jail,” Faith said proudly.

  “Can we get back on track and go get this goddamn envelope now?” said Ilya.

  “I’ll feel better once we’re off the island,” I said.

  “I’m one step ahead of you,” said Cole. “Jonah is packing up back at the building. He’ll have all our stuff at the downstairs door, ready to go when we get back from this government place. After that, we’re on the next ferry out of here.”

  “Hopefully the first boat of the morning,” I said.

  “Where are we staying in Vancouver?” asked Faith.

  “Uh, good question,” said Ilya.

  Cole sped up as we left the downtown core on the Island highway that stretched ahead like a streak of wet charcoal paint. Streetlights blinked in and out of view as we accelerated down four lanes of fresh pavement.

  “You know, it’s not like I had an illustrious career ahead of me, but it’s starting to sink in how much this is going to suck, even best case scenario,” I said.

  “We are talking about living like fugitives. Is that really necessary? I mean is Ivan seriously going to have some thugs chase us down?” said Faith.

  “I don’t know. But my father takes Innoviro more seriously than anything else in his life. I was practically a toddler when he started the company. Before that, I think he did more of the same kind of research. It’s his life. I don’t know exactly when it morphed from helping people into selling science, but I’m hoping we find something at this facility that points the finger at someone else. Or even just a really good reason for what he’s doing.”

  “Buddy, I used to think your old man was a pretty awesome guy, but from what I’ve seen in the last few days, I don’t know if I can get behind him anymore,” said Cole.

  “If you think you might have a problem staying on the other side of the line from your dad, do you want to bow out and stay here in Victoria?” I asked Ilya.

  “No, I’m with you guys. I don’t agree with what he’s doing, for whatever reason he’s doing it. That’s why I moved out to the beach and took so many variants with me. I always figured I’d make peace with my father though,” said Ilya.

  “We
’re probably a few flimsy locked doors away from finding out some bad shit here, something that could be worse than any of us thinks right now. Sure, it could clear your dad, but if it’s something else . . .” Faith drifted off not knowing how to finish her thought.

  Cole slowed down for a red light at an intersection ahead and I suddenly recognized where we were. I knew there was a mall down the hill on the left. On our right, I saw the government building with its weird snaking ventilation looming ahead.

  At twenty minutes past midnight a handful of cars trickled here and there. A few vehicles turned up the hill toward the grey concrete cube from my vision, but they all passed the building without a glance. Other than the twist of exterior ventilation on the roof, the building itself was unremarkable and even more plain in person. Small rectangular windows dotted the solid, flat walls. A lush lawn surrounded the sides of the building that faced the highway, sloping down to tall weeds that ended in a ditch next to the road. On that lawn, the sign simply bore the Government of Canada logo with no other indication of what offices were housed there.

  Cole followed the cars turning off the highway and parked on a residential side street near the government property. As he turned off the car, Ilya held up his hand in a gesture of pause.

  “What now?” said Faith.

  “Shhh, I’m listening. There are a lot of people still awake in these homes and I have to concentrate to filter the chatter,” he said irritated and focused. A few moments later he said, “Okay, there’s nobody in the building. I’ll stay behind and maintain the illusion that the place is empty and locked. Turn on lights, make noise, do whatever you need to do and nobody will see or hear you.”

  “Sure, ’cause that worked so well back on the beach,” Faith said with a derisive laugh.

  “The beach incident was my fault, even I know that,” said Cole. “So could you snap out of your little mood swing until this thing is done? Who knows, maybe if we actually score some intel from Ivan’s inner sanctum, we’ll find the cure for bitchiness.” Cole stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him.

  I looked up at Ilya in the passenger seat. He stared out the front window and refused to look back at us. Faith glared at me and rammed her car door open.

  “We won’t be gone long, but if you see anyone coming towards the building, text me,” I said nervously.

  “I don’t have a phone,” Ilya said flatly.

  I paused for a few seconds trying to come up with a solution. Faith followed Cole towards the building. I took a deep breath and sprinted to catch up to them. How bad would it be if some security guard walked in on us? I felt fairly certain I’d already seen the inside of Victoria’s worst jail cell. And I trusted Ilya, for the most part.

  To catch up I had to jog down the street and along a clean-cut brick path to the entrance where Cole and Faith argued.

  “What do expect me to do, melt the handle apart? Do you know how much light that will give off? And I might not short the right circuit,” said Faith.

  “Fine, we’ll do it my way. If an alarm sounds, it’s on you.” Cole reached out and gripped the aluminum doorknob. It popped off quite cleanly and the door eased open. We froze for a moment, waiting for a siren, or bell, or some flashing light. Nothing happened.

  “Are we going to wait for an invitation?” Faith slipped inside and Cole and I followed.

  “Irina, do you know where to go from here?” said Cole.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s on the fourth floor. The room across the hall is number 402. If we go up to the fourth floor and find 402, the office we’re looking for is right across from that.” My skills finally came in handy. I’d become an asset instead of a walking collection of nightmares.

  We went up the nearest stairwell and found the door to room 402. Directly across the hall was room 410. I tried the handle and noticed the keypad next to the doorjamb. Faith reached out and I knew her next move was to try melting an electrical wire.

  “Noooo,” I hissed, and whispered, “I can figure it out by touching it. I did it at Innoviro, remember?”

  Chapter 16

  Faith took a step back to where Cole stood behind me. I took a deep breath, stalling as I imagined police officers thundering up the stairs and hollering in our faces. I took another breath. I touched one of the numbers, gently so as not to actually depress the button. I expected the hallway around me to fade, but nothing happened. I shifted to gently place my whole hand on the keypad.

  The dark hallway dissolved, shifting slightly to a day-lit version. An olive-skinned man with short salt and pepper hair walked towards me. As he checked something on the stack of papers cradled in his arm, the hall disappeared and I was back in the dark. A sharp shove in my back jolted me forward and my hand, still gently touching the keypad, pressed every button.

  Back in the deserted night hall, an electronic buzzer sounded two quick beeps that the code was incorrect. Then a melodious female voice chimed in, “Your code entry contained an error; please try again.”

  I stood in shock, and then whirled to glare at my friends. Faith and Cole stopped wrestling. I gave them a look of incredulity. The woman repeated herself. “Your code entry contained an error; please try again.” She repeated herself again, the third time adding, “Failure to input your code will trigger an armed response. Please enter the correct code now.”

  “Holy shit!” I said.

  “What’s the code already?” said Cole.

  “I don’t know! One of you pushed me into the keypad and snapped me out of it before I saw anything!”

  “What kind of armed response comes to a government building? Probably the cops. Try touching the keypad again,” said Cole as the recorded voice repeated its threat.

  “Who cares! Rip the door off!” Faith shouted as a siren wailed overhead.

  “Goddamnit!” Cole groaned as he reached out and jerked open the door.

  Instead of removing a flimsy doorknob as he’d done downstairs, he actually strained for a moment as the entire doorjamb popped away from the wall. He pulled back and the steel frame slid off several giant bolts inside the solid core door. I felt a moment of exhilarating vindication knowing that something really valuable sat inside this room if that door was justified.

  I rushed into the office–which was smaller than I expected–and scanned all surfaces frantically. The room appeared messier than I’d seen in my vision. I must have seen the envelope where it originally landed when it finished its journey. What if someone had beaten me to it? Had Rubin and Hugo come here before going into hiding?

  I searched the bookcase beside me, the hutch next to the window, and each drawer of the large L-shaped desk. Only one was locked.

  “Cole! I need this drawer!” I called over my shoulder. He stepped in and pulled the drawer out as though it had never been locked.

  Inside, like a shining medal, the Innoviro logo on pure white paper rewarded me with its presence. I snatched it and turned to run, gesturing at Cole and Faith to follow me.

  We bounded down all four flights of stairs until we burst out into a side hallway of the main floor. Blue and red light flashed on the opposite wall reflecting the activity in front of the building.

  “How do we get out?” I shouted over the wailing alarm.

  “This is your stupid plan!” yelled Faith. “You’re supposed to know that already!”

  “Ilya said he’d conceal us. I think we have to trust him. We don’t have any other choice, unless either of you has a surprise up your sleeve. Stay behind me.” Cole stepped out into the hallway before I could stop him, not that I stood a chance of holding him back.

  I held my breath and followed Cole closely, sensing Faith right behind me. I peeked around Cole’s shoulder and saw a blur of lights ahead. I couldn’t make out cars or bodies, but I assumed several officers in uniform had guns pointe
d at the entrance.

  “I don’t think they can see us.” Cole sounded less than confident. “Now we’ve got to find a way to get out the door.”

  “Maybe they won’t see that either,” I said softly, putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Why don’t you give it a try, chickie?” Faith glared at me.

  After we got out of this, I’d have to find a way to make things right with her.

  “Any occupants of this building, identify yourself and come forward!” shouted an aggressive male voice outside the entrance. A few moments passed. None of us said anything. A group of male voices muttered outside.

  “We are entering the building! Identify yourselves and approach slowly with your hands up!” shouted one of the men. I heard the stomping of shoes running up the driveway. I peeked around Cole and glimpsed two officers inspecting the damage done to the front door. One gestured that he was going to enter. He slowly wedged the door open with his foot.

  After the first officer scanned the lobby, gun pointed and ready, he beckoned for the others to follow him. The last man to enter kicked the hinged doorstop down on the damaged door, leaving a clear path for anyone to enter or leave quickly.

  Cole looked back at Faith and me with an earnest expression and nodded towards the open door. He walked briskly and quietly towards the door and we followed suit, creeping out the door, down the walkway, and past the empty cars with lights still flashing parked on the street.

  We followed Cole all the way back to his car. I had to resist the urge to both run and pee. Each of us eased open our doors and slipped into the car. Cole started the engine and casually drove back out to the main road as we held our breath.

 

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