by Cathy Pegau
Gennie followed Natalia to the stairwell exit. They pushed through the door and ran up, heels ringing on the steps, to the roof access. A sign on the door warned that the air car pad could be hazardous while vehicles were landing or taking off.
“How are your carjacking skills?” There was a teasing glint in Natalia’s eyes.
“Not my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”
“Too bad.” She pushed the door open. “Jump it is.”
“What?” Had Gennie heard her right?
Natalia ran onto the roof, skirting the air car landing pad and the four vehicles parked off to the side. Ice pellets whipped against their skin and wind swirled around them, buffeting them from all sides at once. The fancy dresses were lovely, but did nothing to protect them from the cold. Gennie followed her to the edge of the building, where a waist-high wall prevented accidents. On the other side of the wall, the neighboring building’s black roof. Five meters away and six stories down.
“That’s a bit of a drop,” Gennie said, wondering how much it would hurt when they landed.
“Other side,” Natalia said and dashed back.
The roof on the other side was only a few meters below The Montague, and the walls of the two buildings were right next to each other.
Without hesitating, both sat on the low wall and swung their legs over. Natalia toed her shoes off. Gennie did the same. Landing in bare feet would be a hell of a lot less painful than landing wrong in heels. They hung from the edge and dropped.
The impact rattled Gennie’s teeth but otherwise she was unscathed. Natalia winced, rubbing her right arm. Blood seeped through the bandage and stained the white sleeve.
“You okay?”
Natalia nodded, not even looking at the wound. “Let’s go.”
The next building was higher, at least two stories taller. There was no way they’d be able to scale the wall. Back inside was their only option. They picked up their shoes and ran to the roof access.
Locked.
Natalia shot the area around the handle. Sparks flew, and the electronic mechanism sputtered and smoked. The door swung open.
Down the stairs on bare feet, they stopped and listened. Nothing echoed up the stairwell. The first door they came to was locked.
“What is this building?” Gennie asked.
“Restaurant and entertainment,” Natalia said, continuing down to the next floor. “Some offices on these levels, I think.”
The next three access doors were locked as well. The fourth opened onto a hallway that looked like the hotel they’d just fled. Thirty meters away was the elevator.
“More personal entertainment,” Natalia said quietly.
“Go to the elevator here, or stay with the stairs?”
At the end of the hall, the elevator door opened. Six people exited, two men and four women, chatting and laughing as one of the women dug in her purse.
“Stairs,” Natalia said, easing back through the door. “If we meet anyone on the stairs, we have options. I don’t want to get stuck in an elevator again.”
“Good point. Let’s go.”
Down they went, hesitating now and again to listen for anyone coming up. Checking the doors, most were unlocked. Brief glimpses of what lay beyond didn’t always tell Gennie the sorts of entertainment being enjoyed, but she heard pulse-pounding music, raucous laughter and cries of pleasure.
“We should come back here some time,” she said after closing the door on what sounded like an orgy.
Natalia hurried to the next floor. “I don’t like to share.”
Gennie was too winded to laugh and too concerned about making it out of the building alive to respond. But she’d certainly store the information for later.
They reached ground level, but the stairs continued down.
“They may be waiting on the street,” Gennie said.
Natalia held her hand to her chest, pain on her face. Was the yttrium in her lungs affecting her? Gennie laid a hand on her shoulder. “Natya?”
Natalia waved her off. “It only hurts when I run. I’m okay. Just give me a second.” After a few moments, she nodded, ready to go. “Down and out the back, if we can.”
Gennie led the way. Clanking and banging sounds came up the stairs. What the hell were they doing down there? Then heat and a tantalizing aroma wafted toward them. Kitchen.
They stopped on the stairs, holstered their weapons and put their shoes back on. Around the corner they found a brightly lit white-and-chrome kitchen. A dozen men and women stirred food in pots, programmed CompuChefs and plated large trays or palm-sized dishes.
A few of the kitchen staff eyed the pair as they scurried through the space, but no one bothered them. Until a rotund woman with a large knife appeared, glaring.
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” Her white tunic was stained with brown-and-purple streaks.
“Some assholes upstairs are bothering us,” Natalia said, a wide-eyed innocent look on her face. “We just wanted to find a way out.”
“You can’t be down here,” the woman said. “Go back the way you came.”
“These guys are real jerks.” Gennie held up Natalia’s wounded arm. “Look what they did to her.”
The chef’s brow furrowed. “Did you report them to the manager?”
“We don’t want any more trouble,” Natalia said, lowering her arm. “We just want to go home.” She batted her big, blue, suddenly-damp-with-tears eyes. “Please.”
The woman stepped aside and pointed with her knife. “Through there, turn right. Service elevator will take you to the loading dock.”
They thanked her profusely and hurried past. The corridor was lined with large containers labeled with a variety of ingredients. By the time they reached the wider-than-normal elevator doors, both were sweating. Natalia coughed into the crook of her arm.
“You pull that weepy-blonde thing often?” Gennie asked. She also wanted to ask about Natalia’s cough.
“When I have to. It can be very effective.”
Gennie couldn’t help smiling, imagining Natya attempting to sway her in such a manner. It could work on her, she decided, under certain circumstances. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Natalia laughed, but another bout of coughing sobered them both.
The elevator took them up one floor and opened onto the covered loading bay. Two young men dressed in dirty kitchen whites smoked synth tobacco, chatting. Gennie and Natalia ran past them, weapons in hand again, and stopped at the entrance to the alley. Half a block to the left, ground cars hummed down the main street, their lights cutting through the night. To the right, pools of light marked rear access to other buildings along the row. Snow glittered in the sporadic light as it swirled down the alley on the cold summer breeze.
Despite the adrenaline rush, Gennie shivered. Her fingers and toes were starting to numb. She’d give anything for the heavy coat and boots she’d worn as a pirq. She bet Natalia would agree.
“Which way?” Gennie’s gut told her to stay in the darker alley, but Garces’s men could be waiting for them to come out of either of the hotel’s entrances. No matter which way they went, it was going to be tricky.
Natalia scanned both directions, her eyes narrowing to penetrate the deeper shadows. “Street. Fast. Go.”
Gennie didn’t argue. She bolted around the corner of the building and ran. Natalia stayed close to her. Behind them, someone shouted. Pulser fire slammed into the ground near Gennie’s feet. Shit. She pressed harder.
“Right!” Natalia yelled as they made the street. She fired back into the alley.
Few pedestrians made it easier to navigate the walkway and less likely an innocent person would be hurt, but it was damn difficult to lose yourself in a crowd if there was no crowd. Gennie and Natalia dodged evening strollers, mindles
s of the “ohs” and curses. No one tried to interfere, despite the calls of “CMA! Stop!” from their pursuers.
Thank goodness for apathetic citizens.
Natalia gestured to cross the street. As they ran into traffic, horns blared. A pulser shot hit the corner of the building in front of them, spewing plasti-crete across the walkway. Gennie dashed forward to beat a ground car. Not fast enough. The car clipped her left hip, sending her spinning. Pain shot down her leg, collapsing it when she tried to keep to her feet. She skidded into the gutter, hands and knees scraping against the pavement.
Natalia ran several meters, almost to the corner, before realizing Gennie wasn’t beside her. She spun around. “Gennie!”
Bolts of energy hit the cars beside her. Natalia ducked behind a parked vehicle. Gennie twisted her body, shot back. Only a stunner, but it was better than nothing. Cars on the street stopped. People screamed and ran for the safety of buildings.
Natalia rose from behind the car to fire at their pursuers. She shot in the direction they had come as well as down the side street.
Natalia’s shots were returned from two directions.
Damn the void, they were flanked. The only escape route was the way they’d been heading, but Gennie wasn’t going to be able to move fast enough.
The thermals in the street that kept it free of snow were doing little to keep Gennie from shaking. Shock? Not good.
“I’m coming for you,” Natalia called out.
The bright red dot of a laser sight played across Gennie’s legs and settled on her chest.
A deep voice boomed from down the side street. “Hold your fire, Hallowell.”
The heat of fear and anger coursing through Gennie countered some of the chill, but added to her shivering. The sick feeling of never seeing her children again, of never being with Natalia again, churned her gut. Was there still a chance to nail the Reyeses and Garces?
“Go, Natalia, go!” Natalia would take care of Branson and Melaine for her.
Something skittered across the walkway behind her. Gennie looked back. Natalia’s pulser. She turned, winced at the stabbing pain that accompanied the movement. Natalia stood with her hands laced atop her head, two red spots steady on her chest. She breathed hard, grimacing.
Booted feet pounded toward them, several shouting for Natalia to get on her knees. An agent approached Gennie, his pulser rifle less than a meter from her face.
“Drop the weapon,” he shouted needlessly. She did. “On your stomach, hands on your head.”
Her left hip felt like it had been set on fire. She cursed but rolled over, gritting her teeth against the urge to vomit.
“Can’t you see she’s hurt?” Natalia yelled then coughed. Her breath came in wheezy pants. “Get a medic.”
“No, I just need a second.” Gennie caught Natalia’s eye and shook her head. If they called a medic, she and Natalia would be separated. Not good.
The worry on Natalia’s face would have made her smile if her hip and leg didn’t hurt so damn much. If she weren’t so concerned for Natalia. Their feelings for each other made her entire being feel full and warm. When had that happened?
A tall, burly man strode past Gennie. He glared down at her but continued toward Natalia. On her knees with her hands secured behind her back, Natalia sneered when she looked up at him. Had to be Garces.”Now we have to do this the hard way,” he said.
Chapter Nineteen
Garces sat beside Natalia in the rear seat of his CMA-issued ground car, his pulser aimed at her side. Her hands were bound behind her. Her right arm felt as if it were twice the normal size. Blood dampened her sleeve, and her chest hurt with each breath.
The driver, a junior agent, maneuvered into the lower-level parking garage, a second car full of agents and Gennie following. The vehicles parked close to one another.
“This way.” Garces opened his door and motioned her to follow. Where else he expected her to go with her hands cuffed and several armed agents looking for an excuse to take out a traitor, she didn’t know. She wouldn’t have run if she could. Gennie was in no condition to escape.
She watched the other woman gingerly lever herself out of the adjacent vehicle. Her lace dress was torn, and dried blood stained her shins. She winced as she put weight on her left leg. The agent closest to her grabbed her arm to “help.” Her eyes teared.
Anger boiled in Natalia’s gut and heated the back of her neck. “You’re hurting her.” She moved forward, unsure of what she’d do but knowing anyone who hurt Gennie would pay.
Garces’s pulser jabbed into her chest. “She’s fine.” He clamped his hand on her shoulder and spun her around. “Let’s go.”
Garces propelled her toward the elevator, their footsteps echoing off the walls. This late in the evening, there were few vehicles in the garage. There would be almost no one in the CMA building.
The junior agent, a man in his mid-twenties, Earth Standard, passed through security and called for the elevator, stating for the sake of the security system that they had two female suspects in custody. Gennie slowly limped her way toward Natalia, an agent holding each arm. Her face was drawn. Each step elicited a flinch of pain. Natalia’s bound hands clenched, useless, ineffective.
The elevator arrived as Gennie and her escorts reached them. The seven of them crowded into the utilitarian car. Garces tapped icons on the control box. “Security override. Direct access to my office. MG90905.”
“Override accepted,” the elevator intoned. It began its ascent.
The junior agent’s brow furrowed. “Office level, sir? Aren’t we going to interrogation?”
Garces glared at the man. “Despite Agent Hallowell’s criminal behavior, she is a special case, Simmons. She may have betrayed the CMA, but there are courtesies to uphold.”
Simmons didn’t look too sure about affording a dirty agent any such thing, but he’d go along with the highest-ranking field officer in the organization. Smart man. Too bad it would be Natalia and Gennie who paid for his loyalty.
Gennie shifted on her feet, favoring her left leg. Her shoulder bumped Natalia’s.
“Are you all right?” Natalia asked quietly.
Gennie stared at Garces and nodded. Her dark eyes burned with pain and anger and something Natalia could only describe as hatred. They were certainly on the same page there.
“They’ll take you to a medic.” Natalia didn’t believe Garces would allow any such thing, but surely all five of these agents didn’t know he was involved in the Reyes operation. If she put it out there, perhaps one of them would have the balls to defy Garces. Maybe.
From the sardonic look Gennie gave her, she didn’t believe it either.
No, despite regulations, there would be no medical attention. Hell, they’d be lucky if they got out of this alive. Grief and sorrow gripped Natalia’s heart. After all they’d done to give Gennie and her children a chance to live without fear of the Reyeses, it was going to end with them losing her anyway. The files she’d created would make it to the director and lead to Garces’s prosecution, but he’d still have plenty of time to get rid of Gennie and Natalia.
The elevator stopped at the floor where she, Garces and a few of the other agents with them had their offices. The door slid open on an empty side corridor, the lights dimmed for the evening.
“Simmons,” Garces said, “you and Perkins take Miss...” He glanced at one of the agents holding Gennie’s arm.
“ID says Monroe.”
“Miss Monroe to your office. Get what information you can.” A sneer flickered across his face. “Offer her some water and a cloth to clean herself up, if she wants. The rest of you are dismissed. Good work, everyone.”
“Sir?” Simmons asked. “Do you want backup with Hallowell?”
Garces’s face darkened. “If I did, I’d ask for it.
Take Monroe and wait for my instructions.”
Simmons paled. “Yes, sir.”
He motioned to Perkins, who tugged Gennie forward. Simmons took the arm the other agent relinquished, and they made their way down the corridor, going straight at the main hall intersection to the junior agent offices. Garces drew Natalia out of the elevator. The remaining two agents shrugged. One tapped the control panel, and the doors closed.
“Don’t you want anyone to corroborate the interview?”
The color on his face remained high, but there were strain lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “Oh, no, Hallowell. There won’t be any kind of record of what we’re about to do.”
“Someone will ask about the interrogation vid, you know.” It was SOP to record suspect interviews. Or would the agents he’d dismissed just forget all about tonight’s activities?
He shrugged. “Easy enough to piece together if they do. Vid can be created from next to nothing these days.”
His knowing grin hit Natalia in the gut. Mickelson had been right. “You gave Hirahm’s lawyer the vid and used my DNA to open that account.”
“That would be genius, don’t you think?” He winked as they turned right at the main hall to reach his office. He palmed the access panel and unlocked the door. “Have a seat, Hallowell. You look like you could use a rest.”
She lowered herself into the visitor’s chair.
Garces stood on her right. He laid his right hand flat on the desk. The left touched her bandaged arm. Gentle as the contact was, pain zinged to her fingers and up to her shoulder. Her entire body tensed.
Garces smiled. It was not a kind expression. “I noticed you were hurt.”
“Thanks to your man with the DEW knife.” She tried to keep her voice even, but he increased the pressure of his fingers slightly and her breath caught as pain flared again.
“He was told you’d gone rogue and had to be stopped. Got a little overzealous.” He released her arm. “That will be nothing compared to what could happen. Tell me what you know about Grand Meridian. How is this Monroe woman involved?”
