The Americans: Apex Trilogy, Book 2
Page 14
“Strap in for lift off,” Styles’s voice sounded over the cabin com. “There’s probably going to be turbulence at some point. Can’t set off a dozen or so nuclear devices without kicking up a little atmospheric chaos. Try not to throw up everywhere.”
“Throw up?” Melissa asked. “Why would we throw up? What does this thing do?”
In answer there was a lurch and a pressing force as the BTT quickly ascended from the roof and shot out over the Netherlands, leaving Amsterdam far behind. Melissa gripped the arms of her seat until her knuckles popped and went bone white.
“Fuck!” Billy shouted. “I didn’t get any scabs! I’m gonna be a fucking mess by the time we hit St. Pete!”
“Not to worry, William,” Alex almost snarled. “There is a full bar. Any cocktail you could need. And I do mean any.”
Chapter Thirteen
Charlie sat in the cab of the lorry for a few minutes, watching the small farmhouse closely before finally opening the door and stepping onto the damp earth. He did a quick system check of his Shock suit, activated weapons and walked carefully to the front porch, eyes and ears hunting for anything out of the ordinary.
“Even with all that tech I still have you beat,” a woman’s voice said from just behind and to the side of him, followed by the distinct sound of a shell being pumped into the chamber of a shotgun. “How’d they ever let you be a trooper?”
Charlie relaxed, turning to see Nancy Wilkes grinning at him. “Too bad you aren’t American,” Charlie smiled. “You’d be running things by now.” His smile fell away as the realization that there weren’t any “things” anymore hit him.
Nancy, seeing the look on Charlie’s face, set the shotgun against a nearby tree and crossed to him quickly. Her hands came up to caress his face and she kissed him deeply. “I’m so sorry, Charles,” she said sweetly. “Your dad was a great man.”
“Still is,” Charlie replied.
“What?” Nancy took a step back then glanced around the area. “What do you mean?”
Charlie pointed to the lorry. “He’s in there. Or at least I think he his. I need your father’s forklift.”
“Forklift? What for?”
“For a big hunk of biochrome. My dad’s trapped inside and I need to get him out. Plus, I need to get rid of this LOM lorry. I’m sure it’s being looked for. I yanked the tracking system, but…” He pointed to the sky. “They’re always watching.”
Nancy sighed. “Da isn’t going to be too happy about this.”
“He doesn’t like me anyway,” Charlie smirked. “This’ll just be one more thing on his list of why Charlie the Jack should stay away from his daughter.”
Nancy pulled Charlie by the arm towards the farmhouse, grabbing up the shotgun on the way. “Come on. Let’s get that thing out of here, then get you fed and cleaned up.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Charlie sighed. “It’s been a shit day.”
***
“Please remain still, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely’s voice echoed in Stone’s head. “Wiggling around will just prolong your discomfort.”
Mr. Stone tried to open his mouth to speak, but found it secured shut. He also noticed that his eyes wouldn’t open, nor could he really hear anything beyond what was coming through the com.
“You are being held in a stasis tank while we run a few diagnostics,” Ms. Isely explained. “Your body is enveloped in gel to keep you from harming yourself while the process completes. Some of the tests can be, well, a bit stressful.”
Mr. Stone felt intense pain shoot up both of his legs and he tried to call out, but had to choke on the words.
“I am telling you all this for your own good, Mr. Stone. Just relax and it will all be over soon.”
“Stone? Can you hear me?” Gein’s voice chimed in. “Listen to Ms. Isely, Stone. She knows what she is talking about. Things are going to be very different for you after tonight. Hopefully for the better.” There was silence for a moment. “Sorry about Reginald, but tough choices had to be made. Not to worry though, he isn’t completely lost.”
Stone thought about Reginald laying dead upon the pub floor, blood pooling about him. He wished he could feel remorse, but there was nothing but hollowness.
***
Screams and shouts could be heard from the nightclub’s main room. Sasha stood up from the console, where he was busy deleting as much of the prince’s personal data as he could. A security guard rushed into the office.
“The LOMSD are here!” the guard shouted.
“Really? I couldn’t have guessed,” Sasha snapped. “Send their commander in.”
Within seconds a tall man, surprisingly not outfitted in a Shock suit, stomped into the office. “Sasha Vernakova?”
“Yes, I’m Sasha Vernakova,” the Steward answered, stepping around the desk to face the commander. “What is the meaning of this?”
“You, sir, have been accused of violating LOM laws regarding air travel,” the commander recited as if from wrote. “You were convicted in a LOM court of law and sentenced to death.”
“I was what…?” Sasha gasped as the commander quickly produced a large pistol and placed it to Sasha’s forehead. The commander pulled the trigger and watched Sasha’s body collapse to the floor.
“Sentence has been carried out,” the commander announced to the empty office. He turned on his heel and stormed into the main room. “Burn it down!”
***
“Is he on his way?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked the holo image of Natalya Tartarov.
“Of course he is,” the Empress answered, annoyed. “He can never resist coming to his brother’s aid. It’s always been the weakness in his otherwise flawlessly callous character.”
“He is key to the next phase of the operation,” Mr. Continental reminded her. “Without him, or his tech to be precise, the rest of what has been planned will be extremely difficult.”
“That means we need him in one piece when we get there, My Lady,” Mr. Plain said.
“What? You think I would harm my own…?” The Empress smiled. “Point taken, gentlemen. He’ll be unharmed and prepped for your arrival.”
“I’m sure he is bringing security with him,” Mr. Continental said. “Will they be a problem?”
“Only one,” Natalya responded. “The others have been paid well enough that they won’t be a bother.”
“What do you know about the pilot?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked. “Is he an ex-Ghost?”
“I have no idea,” the Empress sneered. “I’m just here to bring in my brother. You’ll have to do your own research on the pilot.”
“That has proven to be…difficult,” Mr. Plain grumbled. “We know he is an American, but can find no record of him anywhere.” A picture of Edgar Styles replaced the Empress’s image. “Do you know him?”
“Can’t say that I do,” Natalya responded. “But I like the hat.”
“Yes, well it’s the only consistent part about the man,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “Please inform us the moment your brother arrives.”
Mr. Plain cut the connection and the three men stared at the empty space.
“You don’t think Ms. Walton could be on that aircraft with the prince, do you?” Mr. Continental said finally. “They do have a history.”
“A very volatile history,” Mr. Brown Eyes replied.
“True, but these are volatile times,” Mr. Plain stated quickly. “If she is on that aircraft then it could go very well for us…”
“Or very bad,” Mr. Continental finished.
***
“So Al and I walk in, both dripping wet,” Billy laughed, sipping at his third triple martini. “And it’s not like it’s water or anything. This is blood, fresh fucking blood, and we are covered!”
“You are fucking up the story as usual, William,” Alexander interrupted leaning forward, fixing Beth with his eyes. “You have to understand that we had been in the field for sixteen days without a single decent meal.”
“Except for the boar,” Billy added.
“Well, we convince the café owner to serve us in the alley, even though he wanted us gone right away,” Billy said.
“Credits talk,” Alexander added. “Well, the food is handed to us and we both just stare at the plates, not eating.”
“Even though we hadn’t had real food in forever.”
“Because we were already full!”
“And neither of us wanted to admit it to the other!”
“So we finally cram the food down our throats, ending up stuffed to the gills.”
“Within two minutes we were vomiting up goat cheese and bits of baguette!”
“All in pools of blood and shredded guts!”
Beth’s eyes grew huge, while Melissa just rolled hers and went back to scanning her tablet for an entertaining holo.
“We look at each other, completely embarrassed,” Alexander began.
“Then burst out laughing, realizing we had each been sneaking chunks of raw guts and blood from the rendering vats! We were that hungry!” Billy finished.
The two men burst into hysterics, vodka sloshing from Billy’s glass.
“Why’d we stop being friends?” Billy asked, tears streaming down his face.
“Because you became a junkie, got my parents killed and tried to pin it on the prince,” Melissa snarled, not looking up from the tablet.
The cabin became very quiet. Billy squirmed in his seat, downed his drink then got up to fix another. Alex tried to make eye contact with Melissa, but she refused to look up. Beth smiled weakly and looked down at her hands, then over at Heather, fast asleep in her seat.
“Shouldn’t we wake her?” Beth asked. “Didn’t Mr. Styles announce we were close?”
“Yes, we are well inside Russia by now,” Alexander agreed, getting up and crossing the aisle to Heather. He gently shook her shoulder. When she didn’t wake he shook her again. Before he knew it he was slammed to the floor and Heather was straddling his chest, knife to his throat.
“Please, darling, let’s leave the sex play to the bedroom, shall we?” he said casually pushing the knife away from his throat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Who said you did?” Heather yawned. “Maybe that’s just what your touch does to women.”
“Oh, I think you know better than that,” Alex grinned as Heather pulled him to his feet. They looked at each other for a moment before Heather turned to the girls.
“Let’s check those packs and see if there isn’t something to make us all look a little more presentable,” Heather said. “You’re about to meet the Empress of Russia.”
“And she’ll probably kill you all,” Alex said. “So I don’t think evening attire is warranted.”
“Evening attire?” Heather laughed, lifting a hatch that led to the hold below. “You misunderstand, Alex. I’m going to make sure we are dressed to kill. Literally.” She ducked below.
“In that case, try to make it something in black leather!” the prince shouted after her.” He winked at Beth as he made his way to the cockpit. “I’m a sucker for a leather clad assassin.”
***
Styles didn’t need to turn around to know that it was the prince entering the cabin, since they were the only two people in the world whose biometric signatures could open the cockpit door.
“How’s the party going back there?” Styles asked, checking his meager instrument console. He didn’t really need much since all control systems were jacked directly into the large port in the top of his skull, a two decimeter BC cable snaking down his back to the floor and into the console. The port was a detail Styles kept hidden with his cowboy hat affectation. “Everyone having a good time?”
“Lovely,” Alex frowned. “How close are we?”
“Landing in minutes,” Styles said. “If your sister has a clear landing pad built.”
“Oh, she’ll have it built,” Alexander scoffed, patting the wall of the aircraft. “It’s this baby she wants.”
“She knows I’m the only one that can fly it?” Styles asked, glancing over his shoulder at Alex.
“Not yet, she doesn’t,” Alexander said, watching the night sky and the lights of St. Petersburg grow closer below.
“You may want to tell her. Just in case she’s bullet happy when we land, I’d like to be one of those left standing.”
“You don’t know my sister.” Alex gave a hollow laugh. “If you are in her crosshairs, you’re dead. Doesn’t matter how valuable you are.”
Styles watched Alex for a moment. “Jesus… Christmas must have been a blast when she didn’t get what she wanted.”
“What are you talking about? She always got what she wanted.”
***
“I was kidding,” Alex said as he stood next to Heather. “I didn’t really think there was a leather outfit in that gear.”
“Yes, well,” Heather frowned. “Apparently that is all Sasha packed for me.” She looked sideways at the prince, her eyes narrowing to slits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with it.”
Alexander laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t! It’s just Sasha’s way of telling me that there may be other women out there, but there is only one Heather Walton.”
“Don’t you mean ‘Heather Tartarov’?” Heather joked. “We never did get that taken care of.”
“Yes, um, well,” Alex stuttered. “You may want to keep that to yourself. I told my sister we did get it taken care of. You’ll have an even bigger target on your back if she thinks you have a claim to any of Russia through me.” There was a slight bump as the BTT settled on the landing pad and Heather fell against Alexander. “Please, darling, that doesn’t help anything.”
“Shut up,” Heather growled, punching the prince in the chest as the cabin door opened and a small ladder descended to the ground. “And tell your sister she doesn’t have to worry about me.” She hooked a thumb behind her. “Or them. We just want to go our separate way. She can have Russia and kill you, for all I care.”
“My hero,” Alex said in a falsetto.
“Suck it, Al,” Heather said as she climbed down the ladder, every sense in her body humming, waiting and ready for the attack.
***
Empress Natalya sat in her armored skiff, watching the group step onto the landing zone. “Looks like it’s a bigger reunion than I could have hoped for,” she snarled. “The Americans will be a problem.”
“Shall we execute them?” her chief of security, Mr. Zverev, asked.
“No… not yet,” she answered, her eyes fixed on Heather. “In fact, I believe Ms. Walton may have something of interest on her person. Show them all to the guest wing, make them comfortable and lock them down. I want all personal belongings brought to the Shop. Understand?”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Zverev nodded, getting from the skiff.
***
Beth watched as Gelts stepped away from their group and met Zverev halfway between the aircraft and the Empress’s skiff.
“What are they doing?” she asked Melissa.
“Not a fucking clue,” Melissa said. “What do I look like? The bodyguard etiquette expert?”
“They’re getting ground rules established,” Heather responded. “So if someone gets startled by a sneeze nobody pulls their pistol and starts firing.”
Gelts and Zverev shook hands quickly, while Gelts looked back and nodded to the prince. Zverev crossed to the skiff, opening the door and offering his hand to the Empress. Natalya took it and adjusted herself appropriately as her brother approached.
“Show time,” Alex whispered to no one, his face instantly alight with a wide, fake smile. “Sister!” he called, his arms as wide as his smile.
“Brother!” the Empress responded with just as much insincerity. “So glad you could come!”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” the
prince shouted. “The chance to see the homeland and your smiling face? How could I pass that up?”
They embraced stiffly, each pecking the other on the cheek lightly.
“We’re dead, aren’t we?” Billy leaned in and whispered to Heather.
“Probably,” Heather sighed.
Chapter Fourteen
“Oh my fucking God!” Melissa exclaimed as she opened the doors to the room she and Beth would be sharing. “This is bigger than my entire house!”
Beth stood in awe as Melissa dashed into the room and leapt onto one of the two king sized beds.
“Come on!” Melissa shouted, jumping up and down on the mattress. “These things have more bounce than a fucking trampoline!”
Beth smiled at the rare bit of immaturity Melissa showed. “Do you think they have us on holocam?”
Melissa’s face instantly soured and she fell to her knees, her eyes scanning the room. “I’m sure they do.” She got down off the bed and crossed to a door left slightly ajar. She reached inside and flicked on a light, the breath whooshing from her lungs as she saw what was inside. Beth rushed to her side.
“Mel? Are you okay? What is…?” Beth trailed off as she stared at the largest closet she had ever seen. “That’s bigger than the flat my foster parents had.”
Melissa began searching through the dresses, blouses, shirts, skirts, trousers, jeans, leggings, boots, shoes and hats. She finally slumped to the ground, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Everything on this side is my size. Everything.”
Beth looked to the opposite side of the closet and began searching also. She turned around quickly, her eyes as wide as Melissa’s.
“Are they…?” Melissa asked.
“Yes,” Beth answered breathless.
The two girls ran from the closet and looked about frantically. They soon saw the open doors on each side of their beds, the glint of marble catching their eye. Melissa sprinted to her door.
“The bathroom is even bigger than the closet!” she shouted.