Aris opened her mouth to ask another question, but Vidar went on. “That device you had—I think the technology was used to replace Galena Vadim.”
“But sir, how do you know she didn’t just change her mind?”
“I know it’s not her.”
“With all due respect—”
Vidar stalked closer, until he towered over her. In the bright light of the cafeteria his eyes gleamed. “Come with me.”
With a quick, confused look at Calix, she said, “I’ll be right back,” and followed Major Vidar out of the room.
He didn’t stop until he’d reached an empty office in the administrative wing of the building and locked the door behind them.
“Sir? I don’t—”
The look in his eyes silenced her.
“I know that woman isn’t the Ward of Ruslana,” he said, “because Galena Vadim is my mother.”
Chapter 53
“Your what?” Aris’s voice exploded in the small room, and she clapped a hand over her own mouth, shocked at the noise.
Major Vidar sighed impatiently. “My real name is Milek Vadim. I am part of a secret coalition of Ruslanan soldiers my mother placed within the Atalantan Military to help train and support them in their efforts to withstand Safara’s advance. There are groups of us in nearly every unit. Wolfe and Daakon are my fellow operatives. Well, Wolfe was.” He paused, and Aris tried to keep the memory of the last time she’d seen the Lieutenant from her mind.
“Mother never told any of her advisors about the program. She couldn’t outright offer support to Atalanta. She and I organized it and communicated through special comms we set for predetermined times.”
He paced as he spoke, and she could only watch. Major Vidar was from Ruslana? He was the son of Ward Vadim? If she looked closely enough, she could see a vague resemblance.
“Four months ago, right before the World Council, I logged into the approved frequency, but she never responded. I haven’t heard from her since she was ‘released’ from the clinic. I thought perhaps she was being coerced into changing her policies, or grief over my father had affected her. But then you told me about the diatous veil.”
Aris gasped as a new realization hit her. “Your father . . .”
His face tightened. “I couldn’t go home for his burning. I thought maybe it was a trap, a way to draw me out.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued, “Mother never contacted me directly. It was as if she suddenly didn’t know how to reach me. For the past four months, I’ve been searching for an explanation. For some reason why she would go against every belief and value she held dear and support Balias.”
“And you think the Safarans kidnapped her?” She couldn’t believe he was sharing so much information with her. Shouldn’t he be telling someone important, like Commander Nyx?
“Jax said the woman’s eyes matched mine and she had a small, older scar on her throat. He saw it as she fell. It’s my mother, I’m sure of it. They must have stolen or purchased the Atalantan veiling technology.” His expression was grim. Determined. “We need to save her.”
“As she fell?” Aris’s heart pounded in her ears. This wasn’t just some search and rescue mission, a couple of stranded soldiers. This was the leader of a dominion. If what Major Vidar—Vadim—said was true, the political implications were unthinkable.
“They shot her. Lieutenant Latza saw her go down. He couldn’t tell if it was a solagun or tranq. In the chaos, he managed to escape.”
“So, she could be . . .” She swallowed.
“We’re going to get her.” His voice was hard. “No one knows my connection to Ward Vadim, and I can’t take the time to get authorization. You’re the best flyer I’ve got, and I trust you. It’s just you and me on this one.” He stepped toward the door, and she went to follow him. He really doesn’t care that I’m a girl. He knows I can do this.
“I have to say goodbye to Calix,” she said.
“Fine, but hurry. We leave tonight.”
•••
“No.” The word echoed in the cavernous room.
Calix was still in the cafeteria, sitting at the same table, her bowl of stew cooled to a gelatinous mess across from him.
“No?” she repeated, shocked.
“No,” he said again, standing up. He held out a hand to her. “You can’t go on another mission tonight. It’s too dangerous. And besides, it isn’t your job anymore.”
“But it is my job. I have to go.” She reached for his hand, but he dropped it before their fingers touched.
“Aris, no. If someone sees you impersonating a soldier, you’ll be arrested! I won’t allow you to go.” He set his lips in a stubborn line.
Her heart splintered. “You won’t allow me to go? What makes you think it’s up to you?”
“I thought you did all this for me,” he said, looking taken aback. “We’re going to Promise. You have what you wanted. Isn’t that enough?”
“No.” The word burst from her lips. Even she was surprised at its force. She wished being with him was enough. It had been, once. But it wasn’t anymore. Hadn’t been, for a long time. “I’m sorry, Calix, but this is so much bigger than us. Can’t you see that? This mission is important, and Major Vidar needs me. I have to help.”
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”
Aris willed him to understand. “I have to go. This is my placement, my selection, in every way that matters. This is who I am.”
She glanced at the Major, uncomfortable with his presence. He had stayed near the door and was acting, at least, like he wasn’t listening. Turning back to Calix, she stepped closer, grabbing his hands. She waited until he met her eyes. “Say you’ll be waiting for me when I get back. That we can figure this out.”
For a long moment he said nothing, just studied her face as if memorizing it. Noting the differences, maybe, as she’d done with his. “I can’t,” he said finally, looking utterly lost. “I’m sorry, Aris. I know you want me to understand, but I don’t think I can. You’re not the same person . . . I don’t know you anymore.”
Aris dropped his hands and stepped away. A wave of ice cracked and shivered into place within her, burning where it pierced her heart. “You were right, back in Lux,” she said, backing up. Her eyes never left his face. “We did change.”
Chapter 54
“Lieutenant Latza was involved in a high-level surveillance mission when he was captured,” Major Vidar said as he walked quickly down the hall. “The prison where he was held is just over the border in Safara, well defended. It’s impossible to find by heat signature; thermal recognition is blocked. And if you’re close enough to get a visual, they’ve already shot you down. But I’ve got the direct coordinates, so that will help.”
“How are we going to get in, if they’ll shoot us down as soon as they see us?” Aris hurried to keep up.
The Major slowed as they approached a blank door at the end of the hall. Inside, she found herself in a warehouse-like room with shelves stacked ceiling high. “We’re going to bring them a prisoner.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he was hurrying down one of the aisles, a scrap of silco in his hand. When he found the item he wanted, he carried it back to the front of the room. Inside the chrome storage container was a Safaran officer’s uniform, boots, and weapon. Before she had time to look away, he’d stripped and was dressing in the dark gray pants and mottled gray-and-black jacket. There was even a helmet, sleek and black.
She waited for him to take a uniform for her out of the box, but with a sinking feeling she realized that wasn’t going to happen. “You want me to be the prisoner.”
He raised his eyes to hers and nodded, and she saw through the hard-edged Military shell he wore. “Calix was right,” he said softly, “You don’t have to do this. I know you’re not used to these kinds of missions. And I’m not your officer anymore, Aris. You do have a choice. You know that, right?”
“I’m really only good at flying
. Don’t you want someone more experienced?” she asked, mind still whirling. “Someone you can count on?”
Major Vidar stepped closer. “You are the only person I can count on. Wolfe is gone, and Daakon is back in Spiro. And with the veil tech out there . . . I can’t trust that anyone is who they seem.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Except for you. I know exactly who you are.”
The words brought her to the brink of tears. At least someone does. She couldn’t bring herself to speak. For a moment they stood in the entrance of that echoing room, in silence, their eyes locked. “I know what I’m asking,” he added. “And what it could cost you. This is your choice.”
Her choice.
Go back to Calix. Go back to being weak, helpless Aris and hope no one ever found out where she’d been for the past four months. Or stay here, with Major Vidar, as a flyer. A soldier. And maybe save a Ward’s life.
It was a choice she’d already made, she realized. Not earlier, when she’d left Calix in the cafeteria. But months ago.
She took a deep breath. “I’m with you, Major Vidar—I mean Major Vadim. Tell me what you need me to do.”
He spared her a small smile and grabbed her hand. “To start, you can call me Milek. Come on.”
They wove through the racks of boxes until they found another that matched the numbers on Milek’s list. This one held women’s clothes: a dark green tunic, flowing pants, and a pair of soft, silk slippers. Another box yielded a shoulder-length black wig. Milek stood by the door while she hid behind a shelf to change.
“Done,” she said, meeting him at the door. She tried to keep her hands relaxed at her sides, but the wig itched.
Milek smiled a little and reached out to readjust the fall of fake hair against her neck. “It’s strange to see you like this, dressed like a woman.”
She rolled her eyes. This getup was as much a disguise as her veil had been. “What’s next?”
Milek swiped the passcard to open the door. “Time to see Lieutenant Latza.”
Jax was asleep when they entered his room, but as soon as the door swished closed, his eyes opened. “Ah. Visitors.”
“Up for a little information sharing?” Milek asked.
Jax nodded, glancing curiously at Milek’s Safaran uniform. Aris perched on the chair next to Milek’s.
Jax smiled at her. “Like the new look.”
Before Aris could respond, Milek said, “We need to get into that prison. Immediately.”
Jax turned his attention to Milek, his expression turning serious. “They’ll shoot you down as soon as they see you.”
“We’ll be flying a Safaran wingjet in.” Milek cocked his head toward Aris. “I’m taking them a prisoner.”
“Ah.” Jax nodded. “In that case, you have a chance. Foxfire is the unit that most often brings in civilian prisoners. Under Commander Eska, I believe. That’s a name you should be able to use with relative impunity. I’ve heard he’s a beast.”
“What’s the layout like? Do you know where the Ward was held?”
Jax shook his head. “No, unfortunately. Most prisoners are kept in a central holding room, called the pen. We only left it for washroom breaks once every three hours, alternating men and women. And ‘interrogations.’” He brushed his fingertips against a nasty purple bruise on his cheek. “Those were held in cells down a long hallway. Two turns: left out of the room, then the second right. That’s all I could glean of the layout. My guess is she must be in one of the interrogation cells. She was never put in the pen with the rest of us. And when she ran into the room during her escape attempt, she came from the left hallway.”
“Do they interrogate all new prisoners?” Milek asked.
Jax nodded. “Upon arrival, all prisoners are processed. Which just means beaten in a private room, far as I can tell. You should be able to get to the interrogation cells easily.”
“Surveillance?” Milek drummed his fingers on his knees. His impatience was a nearly physical force pushing against Aris.
“Cameras in all the halls, but not the cells. Never saw any guards stationed in the hallways. Once the alarm is sounded, you’ll probably have a minute or two before they come after you.” Jax scratched his arm, a thoughtful look passing across his face. “Might get a minute or two more since you’re going in at night. They don’t have as many guards on duty overnight. If you could cause some kind of distraction in the pen, that’d also buy you time.”
“Are the guards armed with tranqs or solaguns?”
Jax scowled. “Both. And they’ve no qualms about going the deadlier route.”
“What about access to the individual interrogation cells? How do they manage it?” Milek glanced at Aris, as if checking to make sure she was still there. She gave him a small nod. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“The cell doors are locked with handprint sensors,” Jax replied. “But because so many soldiers deliver prisoners, each guard has a backup passcard they can distribute to visitors. The card codes are changed every day, though, so the one I stole on my way out won’t work. You’ll have to snag one from a guard.”
“What about our exit strategy?” Aris asked. “Once we get in and find Ward Vadim, how do we get her out?”
Milek glanced at her with a gleam in his eye. “That’s where you come in.”
Chapter 55
Aris landed the Safaran wingjet when they were still a distance from the prison. For a moment, they sat in the darkness of the wingjet, arms touching.
“You know what to do?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” She didn’t look at him. Instead she stared out into the shadows of the forest and tried to keep her breathing steady.
“Alright, then.”
She popped the shield and they got out, meeting on his side of the jet. The moon glowed above them, turning the thin scar along his cheek silver. For once, he didn’t look like he was sneering; the perpetually quirked lip had a sweetness to it that made her want to smile back, even though she was dizzy with nerves.
“Are you sure?” His voice had lost its authoritative edge, and she could see the son, not the soldier, in his eyes.
“She’s your mother, Milek. We have to try to save her.” She held out her hands, wrists together.
He took her hands but, instead of binding them, he threaded his fingers with hers and drew her closer. If her heart, overtaxed as it was by the stress of their mission, had been able to beat faster, it would have. He shifted, bringing one hand up to touch her cheek. His pale face swallowed the dark, until the whole world was gone and all she could see was the soft glow of his eyes. He bent and kissed her, the lightest pressure against her lips.
Before she had time to close her eyes—or think—he drew back.
“Thank you. You are incredibly brave.”
Then, as she tried to quiet her breathing, he bound her wrists with a length of twine. She wanted to speak, tell him the truth—that she was terrified. But the words wouldn’t come. And it didn’t matter. She’d do this, terrified or not, because it was her job. Because Milek was counting on her.
He bent down, and when he stood, he rubbed a thumb gently along her cheek, leaving a streak of mud. He did the same at her waist and along her neck. And then he tore her tunic.
The ripping noise of the fabric made her shudder. All the while his face was searching hers and his eyes were kind. But the signs of a simulated struggle still gave her goosebumps, and her stomach churned. The thought of a Safaran doing something like what Milek was staging, the thought of rough hands tearing at her clothes . . .
“Aris.” His voice interrupted her dark imaginings. He held up a long, thin rod. “You remember how to use a sythin?”
“Yes.” That was one lesson she’d never forget.
“If you need to incapacitate someone quickly and quietly, use this.”
She nodded.
“Stand still.” His fingers slid up her side, their warmth and the coolness of the sythin shocking against her skin. He tucked the weapon up under
her breastband, beneath her arm. “Can you reach it?”
Her bound hands easily found the end of the sythin, where it pressed against the bottom edge of her ribs. “I’ve got it. No problem.”
“Good. Now, when we get there, I’ll have to be different. Maybe a little rough. They have to believe you’re my captive. I’ll say things . . . just don’t listen, okay? Remember the mission.”
“I understand.”
Even as the words left her mouth, his face changed. The lines settled, the sneer at the corner of his mouth returned. He straightened his shoulders, and she realized he was again becoming the soldier, the secret operative who had infiltrated the Atalantan Military. He was no longer Milek, Galena Vadim’s son. He was Major Vidar.
In turn, Aris took a deep breath and tried to channel Aristos . . . tried to remember that she was an Atalantan soldier, not the battered village girl she looked like. You can do this.
Milek helped her into the passenger seat of the wingjet and ran to the other side, flinging himself into the flyer’s seat.
“You ready?” he asked one last time.
“Yes, sir.”
Milek flew them toward the prison. His takeoff wasn’t as smooth as she could have done, but he was an adequate flyer. When he spoke into the headset, calling the prison to let them know he was arriving with a new prisoner, Aris closed her eyes.
With a deep breath, she prepared to meet the enemy.
•••
No one challenged their landing.
“Found her wandering the woods on my patrol,” Milek said, his voice harsh, as he dragged Aris from the jet. He smiled at the two soldiers standing beside the wing, one tall and heavyset, the other shorter and thin. “Think she might be a spy. Is there someplace I can interrogate her?” She kept her eyes on the ground and made a show of trying to shove away from him. “In private?” He pulled her closer, up against his side.
At Milek’s request, the soldiers stared knowingly at the torn fabric of her tunic.
The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing Page 24
