Vy pulled her closer into a tight hug. “Don’t worry about where things stand, okay? We need to go talk to Roo, right now, and figure out what we’re all going to do next.”
“Why are you helping me?” Anika whispered into her shoulder.
“You’re not the only person who knew Tom. You two came in to The Greenhouse a couple times, when he was showing you around. Tom and I went back a ways. I asked him about you the second time you two came in. I saw you flirting with one of the bartenders.”
“Tom knew little about me then,” Anika said.
“He knew enough. You were quiet, kept your head down. Worked hard. Family was important to you. And Tom swore you had his back, no matter what. I don’t give friendship easily, but after hearing him and other people from your base talk, I liked you. Tom trusted you completely. Even with his life.”
“And look where that got him,” Anika said. She kept holding on, though. The hug was real. It was contact. It felt better than a down bed and a hot shower and a pillow and oxycodone all rolled into one.
“What would you think about yourself if you knew you had let a nuclear device through your hands?” Vy asked. Anika let go, and Vy looked at her and nodded. “I thought so. Tom was a friend. You’re a friend. I’m helping. We’ve got this whole ‘different worlds’ thing going, but right now, you should stop asking why. Unless you want to hang all this up and go back.”
“I’m not going back,” Anika said.
“Me either.” Vy took her arm. “Someone has a motherfucking nuclear device. And chances are, they’re going to use it. If we can figure out how to stop them, we should. Basic fucking morality, right? Now let’s go talk to our pet secret agent.”
“Roo?”
“Yes. The other secret agent is hardly a pet. We’ll deal with him soon.”
* * *
“We have here,” Roo said, turning his laptop to face them, “a chance to make some serious serious money off Gabriel. Or, get us all some real favors.”
“I have money,” Vy said.
“Favors it is then, girl.” He swiveled the laptop back around and started typing furiously. “Everyone’s combing for information about that nuclear weapon. We have a solid lead. Anything we can get out of this-here mysterious Mr. Gabriel, that’ll be worth a lot. And it’s for sure he knows something. So the question: how do we make that man talk?”
Vy cleared her throat. Her voice was suddenly chilly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to do anything like that, Prudence.”
“Then maybe he tells us everything he knows because he a nice guy, right?” Roo folded his arms.
Vy looked downward. “If we have to.”
Anika had been following the exchange. She was pretty sure they were talking about torture. She didn’t like where this was going and stepped in. “Did he come with luggage, or a briefcase?”
Roo looked at her. “Yeah, a briefcase.”
“Then maybe it won’t come to whatever it is you’re thinking,” she said, while wondering, once again, who Vy really was. What had she been through that she’d been forced to do something like that?
* * *
Upstairs in the kitchen, Anika cracked the familiar briefcase open. Vy and Roo moved Gabriel to a chair and tied him to it while Anika looked at the cluster of leads, trying to remember what attached to what.
Chest leads, both sides of the ribs, ankles. Cap on the hair.
She turned the machine on, looking at the various screens slowly drawing the brain map. She’d been distracted and scared when it had been used on her. But she’d paid enough attention.
“Would you like to skip all this and just tell us what you know about the nuclear device?” Anika asked their captive.
Gabriel looked at her, lips pressed firmly together, betraying no emotion at all. The lead wires trailed down the front of his body to the machine, rustling slightly on his shirt as he moved.
“Okay,” Anika said. She had a feeling that would be his response. “Is your name really Gabriel?”
She saw Roo smile briefly out of the corner of her eye.
Gabriel cleared his throat and spoke softly, as if each word were something he was compelled to say. “Anika, this will not be that easy. I am not going to say yes or no to anything you ask me. At all. Do you understand?”
“Gabriel…” Anika said.
“I have my convictions,” he said. “Do you have yours?”
“Damn it, Gabriel, there’s a nuclear weapon free out here.”
He leaned forward, straining against the rope binding him to the chair. “It’s not going to be simple, Anika. Or easy.” He looked around at Vy and Roo. “They understand.”
Anika leaned back and looked over at Roo, who shook his head. Anika looked over at Vy. “Vy?”
Vy had a hand in her pocket. “Fuck it,” she said.
Then she drew out a pair of brass knuckles and threw a punch against the side of Gabriel’s head. Skin split, blood flew, and Gabriel rocked back in the chair.
30
Roo dragged Anika out of the kitchen. He was, as she remembered, surprisingly strong. She tried to twist free, and he moved with her, fluidly, easily, and redirected her movement so that she spun all the way back around and kept walking out with him.
“This is not good,” Anika shouted. There were a handful of performers outside still. They all looked up. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Not Vy.”
Inside the kitchen, a loud smack dribbled out through the doors. Anika flinched.
“There was a girl, once, running weed up and down the Alaska corridor. She made good money, right?” Roo said, holding Anika back by the shoulders. “But one day, off the Bering Coast, she was picked up by Russian Coast Guard. And she disappeared into the prison systems. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“I got her out a year later,” Roo said. “By then … she’d learned some things. Like when she started out in Baffin, a short, blond woman dealer would have to be tougher, more brutal, than a man, or people wouldn’t listen closely. It took a while for things to settle.”
“No.” Anika tried to push past Roo, but he held her. “Roo!” She shouted that loud enough everyone openly stared.
“Anika, let her do it.”
Anika held her hands up. “No. We won’t leave her to do it alone. So let me go, and quit trying to be protective. You are my friend, let go of me.”
Roo did, and Anika marched back into the kitchen. She ran into Vy with her shoulder, shoving her aside, and looked down at Gabriel.
He looked up, face bruised and bloodied. A tear rolled off his cheek. “It’s okay, Anika.” Blood dripped from his lips. “It’s okay. It’s repayment. I deserve this. We all know it. I’ve done worse. You’ve seen some of the things I’ve done. I’ve cost enough lives, I knew this would come some day. But I cannot give you what you want. And I’m sorry.”
She thought about the sadness in him. And the disgust and regret in his voice when he’d talked to her about torture back on the Canadian Patrol Boat.
He was not an immoral man.
And also, not a masochist. He was suffering.
“Gabriel, please. Please answer a question. Just one. We’ve stopped. It’s me.” A thick rivulet of blood dripped down the side of his left eye as she looked right at him and leaned forward, half hugging him. He rested his head, wires and all, on her shoulder. “When that nuclear bomb explodes, will it hurt people?”
She could feel him pause. It was the muscle language. He was refusing to answer, one way or another, but she could feel him gather himself to resist more torture.
“A moral man can condemn innocents to death in war,” she said softly, letting him go. “The religious, the righteous, those getting ready for war, they agree to sacrifice innocents caught between them. The lives are filed under ‘collateral damage.’ That is the price,” Anika said. “I’m not so innocent either, Gabriel. And I know that even they, when forced to stare into what they’re about to do, flinch slightly.”
“Anika?” Vy asked. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s trained for resistance,” Roo said, squatting in front of Gabriel. “No one survives torture forever. He’s hanging in there, long enough so that whatever he’s hiding, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t like it.”
“He’s conflicted about his mission,” Anika said. “Regret, guilt. That’s why he almost welcomes this.”
“He’s conflicted, but determined,” Roo said. “We could beat something out of him, with the help of that machine, but how long will that take?”
They all looked down at the beaten man, who remained slumped, looking down at the floor.
“Fuck,” Vy spat. “Just … fuck.”
“The nuclear weapon was on what we presume was a Gaia-chartered ship,” Anika said. “And Gaia headquarters is docked in Thule. The man running away from the UNPG is in Thule. Everything, it seems, leads to Thule. Doesn’t it, Mr. Garret Dubuque?”
Gabriel didn’t answer.
Anika leaned over and slid the brass knuckles off Vy’s fingers, and gently pushed them onto hers.
“All I want is a yes or no answer, Gabriel, for the machine. You don’t have to tell us where the bomb actually is. But I wonder if you might point us in the right direction? Because there are a lot of people who live their lives in Thule. Innocent people. You yourself asked me a question—about what I would do, if I could get information that could save lives. Now I know.”
He shook his head.
She hit him. They both flinched. Her own body shuddered in empathy, and she wanted to throw up. But he was a killer. He knew where this bomb was.
This could save lives.
He wouldn’t break. But he could let her know if Thule was the right direction.
She hit him again—in the ribs, the brass knuckles digging hard into the palms of her hand—thinking of the people who could die. Thinking of Tom.
Tom. That made it easier to punch again, this time hearing something crack. To hit the face and see the blood and spit and not even care.
Think of the man who tried to kill her.
Think of being tied up, helpless on the ship, wondering what would happen to her.
And yet. If this was vengeance, the blood didn’t feel very good. Even the blood of a dangerous man like Gabriel. Something in the back of her brain screamed stop, that he was tied-up, defenseless, no longer a threat.
But that was her lizard brain. A poor moralist. Gabriel was no longer a threat directly. Like a caged lion, he had been neutered. But the greater machine of plans he was a part of, something the back of her brain struggled to literalize, that was still a threat.
Gabriel’s body twitched with sobs. “You wouldn’t be able to find it. It’ll be hidden. Shielded.”
He was convincing himself, she knew. Convincing himself that he could make the pain stop, but that he wouldn’t be betraying whatever it was he was a part of.
“But it’s in Thule, right?” Anika asked, out of breath.
Gabriel nodded. Ashamed. For being weak, for giving this up. “But that’s as much as I’ll tell you,” he grunted. “Any more, any more, and it would be better for me to die. Maybe … maybe you can get some people to leave Thule. Evacuate.”
He looked up at her with pleading eyes.
“Vy?” Anika pulled the knuckles off and let them drop to the floor, relieved. She was ready to cry herself. “Can we get to Thule quickly?”
“We’re owed favors,” Roo said. “I’ll get on it.”
“Vy, call your doctor back,” Anika said. And she kneeled in front of Gabriel.
He looked at her through blood and puffed skin, coughed, and leaned further forward. “It’s okay,” he said.
Anika shook her head. “No, it isn’t. I don’t know what the fuck you’re involved with, Gabriel. But it was far from fucking okay. It’ll never be okay. I won’t be okay.”
He started laughing, a wet choking sound that ended with a cry of pain. The ribs. “Please stay away from Thule, Anika. Send them a warning, tell them to leave. But don’t go. I’m sorry you’ve lost friends. But no good will come of going to Thule. I promise you.”
“Good-bye, Gabriel.” You weird, strange, little old man, she thought.
And then: I’m so sorry. She’d have nightmares about what she’d just done for the rest of her life.
Outside the kitchen doors, Roo was on his phone. He gave her a thumbs-up. “We have transportation into Thule,” he said. “Courtesy of the Dutch Navy. They’ll also pick up Gabriel. Various people are very interested in him now. For one, we’re all really interested to know who he’s working for.”
Anika could imagine. “How long?”
“They land in fifteen minutes. Grab what stuff you need and let’s run. And yes, I am definitely flying out with you. I’ve been officially attached to you by the Caribbean Intelligence Agencies.” Roo left to find a bag for the laptop he’d somehow acquired and some spare phones.
Anika looked over at Vy. “You don’t have to come any further. You’ve done too much.”
But Vy shook her head. “With all the trouble you’ve already gotten into, you’ll need someone who knows Thule. And who can watch your back. Besides, this has gotten somewhat personal. They killed Chernov. I owe them.”
Deep down, she’d been hoping Vy would come. “Thanks.” She let out a breath she’d been holding in.
“It’s going to get ugly, I think.” Vy crossed her arms.
“I know,” Anika said. “I’ve seen ugly. But I’m not backing down, either.”
Vy nodded.
And Roo returned. He threw a duffel bag that clanked loudly down on the floor. He unzipped it to reveal semiautomatic weapons, pistols, several grenades, and an assortment of very large knives.
“Pick your weapons of choice. Seeing what happened the last few times we ventured out, I think from now on, we stay heavily armed.” He looked at Anika. “Get ready to get back outside, you’ll need to fool the cameras again, just to be safe.”
Anika picked up a pistol, checked it over, and then found an ammunition clip in a separate part of Roo’s arsenal. She tucked it into the back of the waistband of her newly acquired jeans.
“What about you, you getting made up?”
Roo nodded. “War paint for the digital world.”
31
They flew out of Pleasure Island aboard a Dutch Navy helicopter. Unlike the last pilot, this one flew high over the water, leaving Anika feeling more comfortable.
She preferred it when the water looked like a solid surface far below.
The bench seats behind the pilot and copilot had room for six people. Roo, Anika, and Vy had been joined by an officer, who patiently waited for them to put on large headphones with mics.
Noise cancellation washed over them.
“Hello, I am Albus Van Petersen,” their host told them in precise English. He hadn’t even blinked at their camera-confusing makeup. “I am pleased to be meeting you. I’m an intelligence officer attached to the Standing NATO Naval Response Force Three. I serve aboard the HDMS De Ruyter. I have been assigned to make sure you understand the position in which you are about to place yourselves.”
He pulled out a pad with a long, legal-looking document on it.
“What’s that?” Vy asked.
“Right now the Response Force is blockading Thule. A coordinated, multinational response has demanded that Gaia, Inc., immediately cease releasing its products into the upper atmosphere.” Albus pointed out the window. They were flying over more naval ships steaming north, wakes stretching behind them like long arrows of disturbed ocean. “Ships and troop transports from the G-35 nations are contributing more forces to the blockade of Thule. Gaia, Inc., has had its assets seized in most G-35s, but we have found that a considerable amount of assets, particularly factories, have been moved over the last decade to non–G-35 nations. We’ve moved past demands and into all-out military action.”
“And if Gaia doesn’t stop releasing those devices?�
�� Roo asked.
“If non–G-35s refuse to shut the factories down, there will be airstrikes, which will, of course, cause all sorts of blowback. Sovereignty will be violated, nations upset. And it looks likely the standoff with Thule will turn into conflict at any moment. I think the non–G-35s are basing their decisions on what happens in the next forty-eight hours over Thule. I am guessing that will be a full invasion, the way things are moving.” Albus thrust the pad all the way forward between them all. “That’s why you need to sign this document. All of you. It states that we are not responsible for whatever happens to you as a result of us transporting you into the middle of all this.”
“The Dutch Armed Forces want us to sign a waiver to cover their ass?” Vy asked, amazement tingeing her voice.
“Yes.”
Roo took the pad. “Yeah, man, why not?”
As they signed the pad and passed it around, Anika looked over at Albus. “You think the G-35 nations are really are going to attack Gaia headquarters?”
Albus shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. But look outside the window. I think many of the rules are changing.” He pointed.
Anika craned her neck to look up in the direction Albus pointed.
The sky flashed silver, as if God himself had sprayed a mirror finish on the clouds that normally sheeted the highest part of the sky. She could see that there were still clumps of air in between five different masses of silvered clouds as the spheres were still coagulating over whatever position Gaia was commanding them to slowly move into.
“There must be billions of them,” Anika said.
“And more launching every hour,” Albus said. “Once those five formations join up, they become as powerful as if Gaia had launched a giant mirror into orbit. In fact, more so. A mirror could be shot out of orbit. The spheres cannot be destroyed—an explosion would damage some spheres; the rest would scatter from the concussion. We’re trying to compute how powerful the mirror will be, but until we see it in action it is hard to say. Right now it’s mainly using heat energy to move itself around, we’re not seeing it in full action.”
Arctic Rising Page 17
