Live in Infamy

by Caroline Tung Richmond

  “Don’t let anyone find these,” she said quietly as she forced him to finish the gruel. “Understand?”

  Ren could read between the lines. If a guard or another nurse discovered his note, both he and Bluefin would be done for. He would have to keep the paper and pencil very carefully hidden. He nodded.

  After Bluefin and the prison guard departed, Ren grimaced and slid back onto the floor. His joints protested his every move, but he needed a hard surface to write on. Pretending to be nauseous, Ren curled his body around the metal toilet — in case another guard walked by — and got to work, grasping the pencil between his swollen fingers and scribbling the plan he had been plotting in his head. Forming each letter was a labor; every sentence made him breathless. But he forced himself to keep writing. He had to finish this note before Bluefin returned or before he went dizzy again and slipped into unconsciousness.

  Relay this to Marty ASAP.

  This is what I think will happen: The crown prince will turn off the bombs surrounding Alcatraz in order for Aiko’s boat to come through. Then the prisoner exchange will start. I have a feeling that the crown prince will turn on the bombs again, trapping our ship and arresting the Resistance members inside. He’ll think that we’re swimming right into his trap. But he’ll be wrong.

  While the boat carrying Aiko comes ashore, I need Bluefin to shut off the electricity on the island. The island’s security will be focused on saving Aiko, so Bluefin should be able to slip away. Once the lights are cut, the bombs will go dead. That’s when our full forces will swoop in, and the mission will go on as we planned before.

  Ren set the pencil down, exhausted. Marty should be able to piece the rest of the operation from there. They would free the prisoners, including Zara. They would search for V2. And they would locate Ren’s mother. The Alcatraz experiments would come to an end, and the Resistance would let the entire WAT know what the Empire had been doing to American prisoners.

  When he was finished, Ren read over his writing and made a few changes, but his instructions would have to do. Folding the note into a small square, Ren shoved it into his pants pocket and hid the pencil under his cot. He was completely out of breath by then, but a spark of hope managed to flare in his heart. He held on to the little flame, clinging to it desperately, until he gave in to the abyss.

  Two days passed, and Ren slipped in and out of sleep. As promised, Bluefin had returned and retrieved the note. She had read over it quickly as Ren swallowed a cup of water. He had watched her cheeks drain of color as she read each line, and her fingers had clutched the note tightly when she was finished. Ren didn’t even know if what he was asking of her was possible — maybe she didn’t know how to turn off the island’s power or if she even had access to the panels — but Bluefin hadn’t protested.

  “I know what I’m asking of you,” Ren had whispered as she handed him some rice.

  She had responded by nodding. “I can do it. I know where the panels are.”

  But Ren saw the fear in her eyes. He knew she could get killed if she was caught. “What’s your name? Your real name?”

  She shook her head. “I should go.”

  “Please. I owe you my life.”

  Her mouth opened hesitatingly. Then she murmured, “Midori.”

  “Thank you, Midori,” rasped Ren. He hated that those words would never be enough. She was a Japanese citizen and she owed nothing to him or the Resistance, yet she was risking her life for him and for this cause.

  Midori’s fingers trembled as she readied her cart. With one last glance, she whispered, “In the darkest of nights.”

  And she had left it at that.

  Midori was in. Ren was ready. But still, they had to wait. The prisoner exchange had been set for Thursday night, not even a week since the Joint Prosperity Ball had come to a bloody end. Ren could only hope that it would be enough time for Marty to put the mission back together. This would probably be their only shot.

  Finally, the hour arrived. A prison guard approached Ren’s cell, a hulking man with a bulldog face and a neck even thicker than Ren’s thigh. He said nothing to Ren as he shoved three items through the bars: a clean jumpsuit, a wet sponge, a thin pair of slippers.

  “Get yourself cleaned up and dressed,” the guard ordered. He held up one hand and splayed out his fingers. “Five minutes.”

  Ren nodded. Moving as fast as he could (which wasn’t fast at all), he slid out of his soiled garments and wiped himself down with the cold, wet sponge, scrubbing at the dried blood and dirt that he had worn for a week. By the time he was scrubbed, the sponge had turned a dark brown color.

  Next, Ren forced his tired limbs into the jumpsuit, zipping it closed. He had barely raked his fingers through his greasy hair when the prison guard unlocked the door and yanked Ren toward him.

  Ren almost blacked out from the sudden movement, but the guard slapped his cheek and dragged him down the hallway. A few forlorn faces stared at Ren from the cells, their deadened eyes unblinking. If all went well tonight, those prisoners would soon taste freedom, but Ren doubted that they could leave Alcatraz fully behind. Deep down, he knew that he would never forget his short time in the prison. The nightmares had already started, and more than once he’d woken up in a cold sweat, his throat sore from screaming and his mind swarming with memories of Major Endo. Alcatraz would haunt him for the rest of his life. He knew that in his bones.

  The guard thrust the main prison door open and thrust Ren into a cloudy night. The last remnants of muted sunlight were leaching across the sky, and the lights of Alcatraz had been switched on to full blast. But even those searing searchlights couldn’t push through the thick fog that rolled in from the water.

  Ren took small comfort in the weather. He couldn’t have asked for better conditions.

  The prison guard steered Ren over the uneven earth, leading him down the winding path that led to a dock, which was used for receiving supplies. The prison looked ready for battle. Armed soldiers stood throughout the island — up on the rooftops, gathered outside every building, sprinkled over the paths. The crown prince wasn’t taking any chances.

  Ren’s bare toes went numb in the cold as they approached the metal dock, which extended so far out into the water that the fog had swallowed over half of it. The prison guard shoved Ren onto his knees on the dock, and he planted his hands on Ren’s shoulders to keep him from moving. But that wasn’t necessary. Even if Ren had the strength to wrestle free and escape the inevitable bullets, he would have a long swim to safety in the dark hypothermic waters.

  Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Ren drummed his fingers against his thigh to keep his hands busy because his anxiety felt close to suffocating. By now Marty should have been nearing the island on the stolen Coast Guard ship, and the rest of the Resistance forces should have been lurking in the waters, ready for Marty’s signal to strike. Once the attack began, everything would move quickly from there, and he had to concentrate on his task — running to his mom and getting her to any Resistance ship.

  Ren dared a glance up the path to find a new group of people clustered there. A troop of soldiers formed a shield around Major Endo and Crown Prince Katsura.

  Ren’s head snapped forward to the waves. The sight of Major Endo had made his stomach churn and revolt, and before long he was retching on the dock. The prison guard slapped him on the back of his head and ordered him to stop, but Ren couldn’t do a thing until his belly emptied. He told himself he had to think about the mission instead of Endo’s fingertips, but his whole body shivered. He would rather take his chances out at sea than ever face her again.

  The hum of a boat engine pulled Ren out of his thoughts. The prisoner exchange should start any time now — but where was his mother? Ren had thought that she would have been brought out to the dock already.

  But Ren saw no movement coming from the prison, and that made him go cold all over. Was the crown prince already reneging on the deal?

  Just then, the nose of a sleek white boat p
ierced through the fog. It was the Resistance’s Coast Guard ship. All of the lights on board had been turned off, and there were no Resistance members in sight. An eerie quiet settled over the dock and spread onto the shore. It looked like no one was aboard the boat at all.

  Then a voice boomed from the ship’s speakers. “Our trade was for the Viper and Jenny Tsai.”

  Major Endo lifted a bullhorn in her perch. “Give us the princess first.”

  The Resistance didn’t hesitate to reply. “Bring Jenny Tsai to the dock immediately.”

  “We’ll bring the traitor to the beach, but after we get confirmation that Aiko is alive and on board your ship,” Endo countered.

  Ren gnashed his teeth together. He didn’t know what the crown prince was doing — and he didn’t like it.

  A moment passed before a light switched on inside the ship’s pilothouse. A solitary figure stood by the window, blindfolded and gagged and handcuffed. She wore a white T-shirt and men’s trousers, but there was no mistaking who it was. Aiko.

  She was the key to unlocking this mission.

  She was the pawn both sides needed.

  Ren had willingly put her on the chessboard, but this was the only way for the Resistance to strike back. Perhaps it was cruel, but fairness belonged to another world.

  Major Endo’s voice pitched higher at the sight of the princess. “Escort Her Imperial Highness onto the dock. Slowly.”

  “That wasn’t the deal,” the loudspeakers blared.

  Ren couldn’t see Endo behind him, but he could hear the smirk in her tone. “You have no other choice. As you can see, our soldiers outnumber yours and we’ve blocked your escape. We switched on the defensive perimeter as soon as you crossed over the bombs. If you don’t send out the princess, then prepare to be boarded.”

  The Resistance, however, had been expecting this. Within seconds, the light switched off in the pilothouse, plunging the ship back into darkness. The loudspeakers crackled, and Ren heard a terrified scream.

  “Father, please!” came Aiko’s voice.

  Then all went quiet.

  The Resistance had tossed down its hand, making it clear that it wouldn’t be cowed by the crown prince’s games.

  Tension multiplied across the shore, thickening the air with an electric bite. Major Endo didn’t answer right away, and Ren guessed that she was conferring with Crown Prince Katsura on what to do next. They had probably thought that the rebels would have surrendered and crumbled.

  “The crown prince will grant you mercy if you turn over the princess right now,” Major Endo said into the bullhorn, her tone sharp as glass. “We’ll send you to reeducation centers instead of slitting your throats. This will be the best offer you’ll receive.”

  The silence stretched further. The Resistance said nothing.

  Ren hummed with nerves. His knees had gone numb kneeling on the dock and his skin was frigid to the touch, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep still. What had happened to Midori? The Resistance needed her to shut the lights off — and fast. This standstill could soon turn bloody, and like Endo said, the Resistance had no way of escape. The entire mission now hinged on a single nurse.

  As if on cue, darkness fell fast over Alcatraz. Every light was snuffed out, plummeting the soldiers into chaos. Midori had come through.

  Confused shouts filled Ren’s ears. Major Endo ordered everyone to keep calm, but then came a spray of gunfire. The prison guard next to Ren fell into a heap on the dock, clutching his throat, which had started spurting blood. Ren splayed himself on the ground to avoid getting caught in the blast, unsure of which side had discharged first.

  “Hold your fire — the princess is aboard that ship!” shouted Major Endo to everyone onshore. “Get the crown prince to safety!”

  The bullets drowned out her voice, popping off hot and fast. The Resistance was firing from the ship, blowing through their magazines to take out the soldiers before reinforcements could pour in.

  Ren ignored the impulse to run, even when a bullet singed his hair. He had to lay low until the rest of the Resistance rebels arrived on their ships. It was suicide otherwise.

  With a grimace, Ren crawled next to the dead prison guard and dragged his body onto the rocky shoreline, not far from the dock. Ren yanked the pistol from the guard’s belt. He didn’t have much experience with guns, but he didn’t want to dive into battle unarmed and the cold metal gave him the smallest sliver of comfort. Then he huddled next to the guard’s warm corpse, using it as a shield.

  Suddenly, the soldiers’ shouts multiplied along the shore.

  “Open fire!” someone said.

  “They’re out on the water!”

  Ren lifted his head high enough to make out the dark shapes moving toward Alcatraz. There were dozens of ships — speedboats and tugboats and more stolen military ships — of all colors and sizes. Their engines hummed in a mechanical chorus, and Ren had never heard such a beautiful sound.

  The Resistance was here.

  The battle unfurled in front of him. As the Resistance ships closed in on the island, the rebels got straight to work. Some of them fired rifles and machine guns from the deck of their ships, providing cover for their comrades who paddled ashore on rubber boats. Soon the water swarmed with Resistance forces, but the Empire struck back hard. Armed guards poured out from the prison buildings, and Ren was sure that the soldiers had already called in reinforcements from the city.

  The first wave of rebels invaded the Rock, their pistols at the ready and their belts filled with grenades. They didn’t have the armor or military-grade rifles that the prison guards had, but they made up for that in sheer numbers, dozens upon dozens arriving by the minute. They charged up the path toward the main prison, unleashing their bullets as the soldiers matched their fire. As soon as one rebel fell, another grabbed their weapons and took up their place. There was no time to call for the medics and no time to comfort the dying. The Resistance had been preparing for this moment for months — and it showed.

  As the Resistance swept over Alcatraz, Ren made his own move at last. He crouched on shaky knees, pistol in hand, and followed a group of rebels onto the gravel path. His foot stepped on a dead body — ally or enemy, he wasn’t sure — and he hunkered down as a grenade exploded behind them, the heat lashing against his forehead. But Ren had to keep going. He no longer felt the sting of his injuries, just a fresh rush of adrenaline that pumped through his body, propelling him forward.

  Ren reached the prison and threw himself into the pandemonium inside. The first wave of rebels had already cleared the path for him. Bodies lay strewn on the floor, over a dozen prison guards along with a few dark-clothed rebels. A fire burned on the third story of the building — a grenade must have gone off up there — but the flames hadn’t stopped the Resistance members from tackling their job.

  Over fifty rebels had swarmed on all of the prison floors. Some of them fought the remaining guards while others were opening the cells. They moved like clockwork — as soon as one rebel unlocked a door, another one would help the prisoner inside to their feet and escort them out. They had to return quickly to the boats before the Empire flew in more soldiers and sent in the navy. That was why the Resistance had to rely on quickness — because they could never fight the full arsenal of the enemy. Ren had learned that once, and it was a lesson he would never need to learn again.

  As Ren delved deeper into the prison, he kept an eye out for Marty. She was somewhere on Alcatraz, but he didn’t see her yet and he had to focus on finding his mom. With each step that he took, he closed the distance between them. Ren crossed the threshold into the interrogation room to find that the curtain dividing the space had already been swept aside. He darted forward.

  “Ren!”

  Ren didn’t turn around. He was focused on one thing only, and the voice calling for him had barely registered.

  “Ren, wait!”

  All of a sudden, Ren was spun around so fast that he lost his grip on his gun. He was abou
t to retrieve it, thinking that a prison guard had disarmed him, but then he went absolutely still.

  Ren stared at the man in front of him. “Dad?”

  His father didn’t answer. He simply opened his arms and crushed Ren to his chest. For a few seconds, Ren leaned into Mr. Cabot, too surprised to do anything else. The chances must have been tiny, but somehow his father had found him here on Alcatraz.

  Mr. Cabot leaned back to look his son over. And his eyes filled with anguish as he took in the cuts on Ren’s face and the holes where he was missing teeth. “My God.”

  “We have to find Mom,” Ren said, cutting their reunion short. He would explain everything later. There was work to do first, like staying alive. “She’s back here.”

  Mr. Cabot didn’t ask any questions. He merely picked up Ren’s pistol, pressed it into Ren’s hand, and held his own gun in front of him. His right hand was still bandaged, so he had to hold his weapon in his left. “Stay behind me.”

  Together they parted the rest of the curtain and uncovered what the Empire had been hiding for years. Metal cages were spread throughout the space, each one about the size of a cramped prison cell. A few of the rebels had killed off the guards and scientists stationed there, and now they were unlocking each cage to release the Anomalies. But not all of the prisoners were rushing out.

  Ren blinked from cage to cage, prisoner to prisoner. There were fifteen of them, all of them with shaved heads and wearing bright orange jumpsuits. The fifteen Anomalies, he realized. These prisoners had survived the very first testing of V2, and the Empire had locked them all in this room. For observation? For further experimentation? His jaw twitched. Probably both.

  “Come on, Dad,” Ren said hoarsely. “Mom should be in here.”

  The two of them hurried to the cages. A few of the prisoners had already left for the ships, guided by their rebel escorts, but others had shrunk into their cages, rocking back and forth. One of the women had formed tentacles of electricity around her body, like a protective shell. Another had gone invisible, but Ren could make out their body through the lines of their uniforms. There were more of them still, being coaxed gently by the rebels charged with getting them out to the boats.