by R. M. Olson
“I suppose it was,” murmured Masha, almost to herself.
Two thousand prisoners set free. Not a bad haul, really. It would certainly be a black eye to the government back in Prasvishoni.
Something in the back of her mind, though, nagged at her.
That had been the reason she’d agreed to this job, certainly. But it hadn’t been the reason she’d finished it.
She pushed the thought back. Time enough to deal with that later.
“And there were enough ships for everyone?” she asked.
“Yes. Barely. We used the guards ships mostly, but there were a couple extra transport ships in storage as well, and some older ones we were able to get in the air.”
“You work fast.”
“Well, there were a lot of us. And Lev said to be finished in five standard hours, which—” He looked at his com. “We made, barely.”
“We never found who it was who sold us out, did we?” she asked. He frowned slightly.
“No. It can’t have been Radic or Ivan, I assume, because they almost got themselves killed trying to get everyone out. I talked to them, but they had no idea.” He shrugged. “Two thousand prisoners, and most of them we don’t know. It could have been anyone.”
He was right. Still, she didn’t like loose ends.
She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Then I suppose we’d best get going ourselves. Is everyone on board?”
“Almost. Ysbel and Tanya are still outside with the children. They’ll be in in a minute.” He paused. “How’s Jez?”
Masha smiled slightly. “Best ask Lev that, I think. He’s still in with her, last time I checked. I’m heading in there now, if you’d like to come.”
Tae nodded, and followed her across the small deck, through the mess hall, and into the med bay.
Jez was lying prone on the narrow medical cot, eyes closed, face puffy and bruised and body stiff with bandages. Lev sat beside her, his face drawn, looking down at her with an expression of mixed worry and tenderness that was completely unmistakable. Masha shook her head in mild amusement.
A complication, certainly. Although it had certainly been instructive to watch how a highly-motivated Lev behaved. Tae, too, and even Ysbel.
The position of a certain guard, stripped to his unders and tied onto the top of the wall in the hot sun with a white flag in his mouth containing a full written confession, was evidence of that. If it had been Lev’s decision alone, she wasn’t entirely certain the guard would have avoided the sedation chamber.
“How’s she?” asked Tae quickly, crossing over to Lev. Lev glanced up, and she noted how his expression softened when he saw Tae.
Well. She’d wanted the crew to work together.
She just hadn’t been prepared for it to happen quite this fast, or quite this thoroughly. Again, there was something mildly unsettling about the thought.
She’d expected to be controlling it, at least to some extent. But it seemed matters had been taken out of her hands. She wasn’t used to matters being out of her hands, and it was not a feeling she enjoyed.
“She’s going to be fine,” said Lev in a low voice. “Lucic said she’d be sore for a few weeks, but no permanent damage. She was able to set the broken bones with some boneset she had in the prison supplies, so she’ll be be back on her feet as soon as her bruises go down enough to let her.”
Masha watched the pilot with a slightly icy stare.
Jez was a wild card. She’d always been a wild card. Until she’d met Jez, Masha had thought she was beyond being goaded. But this cocky, restless pilot could get under her skin with remarkable ease. Even unconscious, she had a certain air of cockiness about her.
The pilot had come through in the end, of course. This time. Despite probably almost getting them all killed several times.
But next time? She wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t sure she could afford to take the chance.
She couldn’t deny a twinge of affection for the woman, even as difficult as she was. But affection wasn’t something she could afford to base her plans on.
“How is our crazy drunken lunatic?” asked Ysbel from behind her. Masha stepped aside, and Ysbel, Tanya, and two small children filed into the room.
“What’s wrong with Aunty Jez?” asked Olya. Lev smiled again, his face softening almost to the point of doting.
“Hello Olya. Why don’t you come over here? Jez is going to be alright. The doctor’s come, and she bandaged her up.”
“That mean guard hit her, didn’t he?” She crossed over to Lev, and let him lift her into his lap so she could see better.
“Yes. But I don’t think he’s going to be doing anything like that to anyone else for a while.”
“Why not?”
“Well, because Uncle Tae and I programmed something into that white flag we shoved in his mouth.” The way he said the last word made Masha suddenly sure that he’d had other ideas as to where to shove it, and probably been restrained by Tae. “As soon as a government scanner views it, it will upload every single assault he’s committed on any prisoner onto every single government communication channel, and jam the programming so that every person across the entire system will be locked out until they hear every last detail.” He paused. “There may have been a few personal details that we inadvertently slipped in as well.”
“And possibly a very compromising and slightly-exaggerated corruption report,” murmured Tae.
“You framed him?” asked Ysbel, in faint amusement. Tae shrugged.
“I wasn’t sure if the government would care about assaults on prisoners. So I gave them something they would care about.”
“I expect we’ll still be having a prisoner transfer to the Vault in a few days,” said Lev, in that friendly, mild voice that became something utterly terrifying when combined with his bland, merciless expression.
She’d known Lev had this side to him from reading through his files, but she’d never seen it before now. It was—not something she’d want to be on the wrong side of.
“If they take brush-pigs in the Vault,” murmured Tanya.
Tae chuckled softly, and they all turned to look at the figure on the bed.
“So, Masha,” said Lev at last, looking up at her. His expression was back to what she was used to seeing, that mild, calculating gaze with the sharp intelligence behind it. “What was on that chip you had me leave in the guards’ quarters? I assume that’s why it took so long for the warden to get things under control.”
She gave a slight smile. “It was her recall to Prasvishoni.”
He frowned. “Her—”
“It did take me some time to forge, and some time to get enough information from the guards to make it believable. But when we changed our plans, I thought a distracted warden might be helpful.”
“It was,” Lev said, giving her that calculating stare of his. “Of course, you could have told us about it.”
“I could have. But I prefer not to bring up plans that I am not certain will succeed.”
He gave her a piercing glance that was slightly too perceptive for her liking. “I see,” he said. “And that’s the same reason, I assume, that you didn’t use some of the street drugs you gave to Jez to buy our way out, once we’d realized Tanya wouldn’t make it because of the chip in her head.”
She paused. “Tae thought of a perfectly good solution before I had to,” she said in a non-committal voice.
And that, of course, was the thing about this whole situation that made her most uneasy.
Because she should have. She would never have agreed to their ridiculous plan if she hadn’t had a backup. So she’d brought one.
And when she should have used it, should have insisted they leave Tanya and the children behind—
She hadn’t.
The pilot was rubbing off on her.
Ysbel was looking at her too now, and there was a thoughtful look on her face.
“Well,” said Lev, with a slight, knowing smile. “Now that we’ve res
cued Tanya, I assume you have something you’d like us to do for you.”
She managed a smile and raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Yes. But first, we’ll need supplies, and then there’s somewhere I’d like us to go. Deep space, I’ll get you coordinates. It’s far enough away that we should be untraceable, which I believe would be prudent, considering what we’ve just done. I’ll tell you the rest when we get there.”
She studied them.
They were almost ready. Once she figured out how to deal with the pilot, that is.
Jez jerked suddenly, swore, and opened her eyes.
“Tae,” she said, her words slightly indistinct, but heavy with urgency. “What happened to my ship?”
“You’re on your ship, Jez,” said Lev patiently.
She sighed, and relaxed back onto the bed. Then she jerked up again, swore even more loudly, and pushed herself up on her good elbow with slightly more ginger movements.
“Jez. There are children here,” said Tanya, her voice gaining a slight edge.
“Hey Olya.” She moved, winced, and swore again.
“You’re swearing.”
“Yep.” Jez turned her head gingerly. “Sorry, Olya. You’ll have to ask your mamochka what that word means, I don’t have time to explain.”
“Jez—”
The pilot glanced around the small room in mild panic. “Who’s flying my ship? Is Tae flying my ship?”
“No, he—”
“Is Masha flying my ship? Tell me Masha’s not flying my damn ship.”
“No. Jez. Relax. No one is flying your ship. We just got the prisoners off-planet.”
She relaxed back again, wincing at the movement, and Lev leaned forward to tuck a pillow under her back, shaking his head.
“So we won,” she said.
“Yes,” said Tae. “We won.” He couldn’t seem to contain his smile.
“And we got everyone out? Even Radic?”
“Everyone.”
“Good,” she said after a moment, and there was a sincerity in her voice that Masha hadn’t expected to hear there. She turned her head. “Hey Tanya! Glad you made it. You know, Ysbel basically hasn’t talked about anything except you since I met her. It was getting a little old, to be honest. Even though I’m sure you’re a lovely person. I mean, no offence or anything, but it really was a bit much. You’d think she’d have more than one topic of conversation. I hope you don’t get too bored with her.” She paused, considering. “OK, except for wanting to blow me up. She talks about that a lot too. I think she’s probably flirting, but still—” She tried to grin through the white bone-set that had been formed to her jaw. “Although, I mean, if you do get bored of her, I’m available at the moment, so—”
Ysbel was shaking her head. “How did we not wire her mouth shut? We had the chance to wire her mouth shut, and we didn’t take it.” She turned to Lev, who had a look on his face of amusement mingled with disbelieving exasperation.
“Lucic said the bone-set would work faster, since we had it available,” he murmured.
“And you didn’t stop her? Had she not met our pilot?”
“Admit it, Ysbel,” said Jez. “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you didn’t have me to talk with.”
“Believe me, I would know exactly what to do,” said Ysbel. She turned back to Lev. “Are you sure we can’t call Lucic back here?”
“Sorry, Ysbel. She’s already off-planet.”
“I can’t believe this,” Ysbel muttered. “We had one chance. We can break an entire prison out, but we managed to fumble on this one.”
Jez tried to grin again, then glanced around restlessly. “Well, guess I better get up. Ship isn’t going to fly itself.”
“No, Jez, listen—”
She’d already pushed herself off the bed. She gasped, swore colourfully, and swayed on her feet. Lev leapt up and caught her before she could fall over. She leaned against him, cursing breathlessly for a few moments, and Tanya covered Olya’s ears, her mouth pressed into a tight line.
“Jez,” said Lev through his teeth, clearly trying to keep his voice patient, “you need to lie down. Masha can—”
“Masha can fly my ship over my cold dead body,” Jez grunted, glaring in Masha’s direction. “I always sleep in the cockpit anyways. I’ll be fine.”
Lev cast a long-suffering look at the others, then, shaking his head, he supported the stumbling, swearing Jez out of the med bay.
When they’d gone, the others looked at each other. Ysbel was grinning slightly, and even Tanya wore a reluctant smile.
“So. That’s what you have to put up with every day,” said Tanya. “I am beginning to believe that maybe you have become a saint.”
“Not that much of a saint,” said Ysbel. There was a wicked look in her eyes, and she pulled Tanya in for a kiss that was long and slow and not even a little chaste.
“Ysbel!” said Tae. From the look on Olya’s face, she fully agreed with him.
Ysbel pulled back slightly and fixed Tae with her flat stare. “Listen to me, Tae. I have waited five and a half years. I killed thirty-five people, and spent five years in jail. I broke into Vitali’s compound, stole a ship, broke back into jail, have almost been killed more times than I can count, and helped two thousand prisoners escape a government prison. And right now, I’m going to kiss my wife.”
She turned back to Tanya and resumed where she’d left off.
Tae and Olya exchanged glances.
Misko came over to Masha and pulled on her pilot’s coat.
Masha found herself smiling despite herself as she bent down. “Yes, Misko? What is it?”
“I’m hungry, Aunty Masha,” he whispered, looking up at her with his big, solemn eyes.
“Well. I suppose we could see what’s in the mess hall,” she said, straightening. “As long as your mamochka doesn’t mind.”
Tanya, without looking up, waved a hand at them. Tae shook his head.
“Pretty sure they want to be left alone.” He sighed. “Coming, Olya?”
The girl glanced at her parents with a faintly disgusted look and nodded. Masha took Misko’s hand and followed Tae and Olya out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
She glanced down at the boy holding her hand and looking around the ship with curious eyes.
That was the thing that terrified her.
Because what she’d done in that prison hadn’t made sense. When they’d realized, a week ago, that they wouldn’t be able to get Tanya and the two children out of prison like they’d planned, her job had been simple—convince the others that for Jez’s sake, if nothing else, they had to get out. They’d try again later. Then use her street drugs to bribe one of the guards, get them out, and not look back.
She should have done it. She possibly could have, although, watching the four of them together now, she wasn’t entirely certain. Her goal was and had been simple—giving the government a black eye by breaking prisoners out of a high-security prison was useful, but certainly not vital. What she needed was her team, healthy and prepared and motivated, and, above all, alive. Nothing else mattered.
But the truth was, she hadn’t even tried. She’d looked at this small boy, with his big, solemn eyes, and Olya, with her quick intelligent face, and she hadn’t even tried to talk the others out of their mad rescue scheme.
Because she’d felt as sick as the rest of them at leaving this child in a prison like that, to be taken to the Vault.
The thought sent a cold shiver through her.
She couldn’t afford this. This was all wrong. Everything she’d done since she was Olya’s age herself had been preparing for this. Like she’d told the pilot, she couldn’t afford to take risks, and she certainly couldn’t afford to let personal feelings get in the way of her plans. And now, with no more impetus than a solemn-eyed six-year-old, she’d risked the entire crew she’d spent years researching and planning for.
Yes, they’d succeeded. But that had been more chance than planning, a
nd she couldn’t leave things to chance.
“Aunty Masha?”
She looked down at Misko, and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Misko. I got distracted. You’re right, we should go.”
But the sense of unease had wormed its way inside her, and wouldn’t let go.
Tae showed the yawning Olya to a small room to one side of Ysbel’s.
“You can sleep here. See, there’s another bed for your brother. But—” he leaned closer and whispered, “since you got here first, I’ll let you pick. I won’t tell Misko.”
She grinned at him, then scampered into the room to try the cots. He smiled to himself, watching her. She finally settled on one and lay back.
“This is mine.” She gave a huge yawn. “I’m not tired,” she said, when she could speak again. “But I might just lie here for a few minutes. To make sure it’s the one I want.”
Tae nodded, not bothering to hide his smile.
She was asleep in moments.
Masha stepped past him a few moments later, carrying a limp Misko in her arms. She brought him over to the empty bed, laid him down, and covered him gently with a blanket.
“He fell asleep while he was eating,” she whispered, and Tae nodded.
He wasn’t sure he was still entirely comfortable with Masha. But she didn’t frighten him quite as much as she had.
“You know,” he said quietly, as they stood watching the sleeping children. “I don’t know if I ever told you thank you. For—well, I almost got us killed back there, when I couldn’t figure out that system. I—thought you’d be angry. You’d have been in your rights to be.”
“No,” she whispered. “I would not have been.” She turned and gave him a calculating look. “You know, Tae, you’re quite extraordinary. I knew that when I asked you to be on the team, but I don’t know that I fully appreciated it.”
He frowned at her. She looked serious.
She gave him a slight smile. “You did well. You did more than any of us could have expected from you.” She paused. “The street children back on Prasvishoni—they were lucky to have you. We’re lucky to have you as well.”
“We will go back for them, right?” he said. “Sometime?” At the thought of Prasvishoni, of Caz and Peti, something had caught in his throat, and was making it hard to talk. Masha looked at him gravely for a long moment.
