If Sasha notices me struggling, she doesn't comment. Her eyes remain fixed straight ahead. Beside her, Rock seems almost peaceful as he lumbers along with Doc on his shoulders. It's good to see him up and moving. I hadn't been sure he'd be able to come with us, but he’s doing better than I am. His pace never falters, while I have to trot every couple of steps to keep up.
"What is it with your crewmembers and remote locations?" I ask Sasha. "First Siberia, now this. What's next? The Sahara? Everest? Antarctica?"
"I’ll tell you when you need to know." Sasha seems calm, but I’ve been watching her the past few days. Her jaw is clenched, and she can't quite hide the worry in her eyes. All her energy is focused on making sure her crew is safe. It’s definitely not what I expected. The Wolf of the Kremlin isn’t a cunning, bloodthirsty beast. She’s a fierce mother protecting her pack.
I remain silent as long as I can bear, but the buzzing of mosquitos and the burbling of water and the howls and shrieks of God-knows-what in the trees threatens to drive me out of my fucking mind. I need to talk to someone, whether Sasha likes it or not. Since she’s focused on the op, and Rock isn't much of a conversationalist, I settle on Doc.
“Tell me about Cherry, chiquita. How'd she get snatched by Axys?"
"I'm not sure she was,” Doc says. “We got separated when Axys..." Sasha gives a brief shake of her head, and Doc corrects herself. "This is one of her old hiding places, like the Hole back in Siberia. She's got them everywhere, all set to blow if someone puts a foot wrong."
Of course she does. Explosives are the last thing me and my messed-up brain need. It’s already taken way too many trips back to Mumbai recently. "If you haven't heard from her, how do you know your girl's here? Do you know if she's even alive?"
"Because I know my crew, Nevares,” Sasha says. “This was Cherry's best bunker. If she isn't here, she's dead."
"Or worse," Doc mumbles under her breath.
An almost proud smile crosses Sasha’s face. "Cherry isn't the type to go quietly, Doc. She would have gone up in a huge explosion, along with several hundred AxysGen mercs. That kind of disaster usually makes the news."
The group falls silent again, but this time, it’s mercifully brief. Before my brain starts eating itself, Rock comes to a stop. I almost run into him, which turns out to be a good thing. Two feet away, the edge of the world drops off into nothing. The jungle stretches all the way to the edge of a massive cliff, concealing what has to be at least a forty-meter fall.
I step back, swaying with vertigo, but then one of Rock’s giant hands presses down on my shoulder, steadying me. He smiles, and I smile back. He looks much less intimidating without his skin peeled away to reveal all the cables inside him.
"Thanks, Rock.” I risk another glance at the cliff. It’s a straight shot down, no bridges, ladders, or steps. "What now?"
Sasha runs her hand along a twisted tree trunk, searching its contours for something. After a moment, she pulls away a piece of the bark to reveal a glowing orange port. I start to offer my services, but Sasha just touches her hand to the light, opening the tree wirelessly. Five packs are stashed inside the hollow trunk, with empty space for a sixth. Sasha looks visibly relieved, and I can guess why: the missing pack must belong to Cherry.
"All right!" Doc says. "Pass me my harness, Rock. It's time for a climb."
Rock pulls out the biggest pack and the kid-sized one next to it. I examine the remaining four. One is large, although not as huge as Rock’s, and the remaining two are a medium and a small. I reach for the smallest pack.
"Don't!"
I draw my hand back, meeting Sasha’s intense stare. To my shock, there’s a flash of anger in those cold, dark eyes, and the scar that slashes across her throat quivers as she swallows hard. Five packs. One missing. One each for Rock and Doc. The remaining large pack is probably Sasha’s. That leaves two more: a medium for their cloak, a small for the dead jacker. I hold up my hands. Better to get this out in the open.
“I'm not trying to take something that doesn’t belong to me, okay? But I need gear that fits. Can’t help that I’m short."
After a long, tense second, Sasha gives me a stiff nod. She reaches into the trunk and hauls the small pack out, tossing it into my arms.
“Gracias.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t fuck up.” Sasha opens her pack and starts unbuckling a simple black harness. “The two of us are doing a spider climb. If you go, so do I.”
“What’s a spider climb?”
As usual, Sasha doesn’t answer. She takes over the job of putting on my harness, checking the buckles and straps with confident fingers. Her touch is all business, but I hold my breath. She has strong hands, with several thin scars across the backs.
Nope. Not going there. Wrong place, time, and person to get all cachonda over.
I’m actually disappointed when Sasha finishes securing everything. It’s fucked up, checking out dangerous handlers with dead fianceés in the middle of the jungle when a corp is trying to murder us. My brain knows it, but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. Like my thighs need to get any stickier in this heat.
“You’re done.” Before I can shake off my haze, Sasha turns away. “Rock, you got those anchors set?”
Rock nods. He’s already clipped and knotted the climbing rope to a sturdy-looking crag at the edge of the cliff. He tosses the other end of the rope to Sasha, who catches it and loops it in on itself.
“Over here, Nevares.”
Qué chingados. She’s sexy giving orders, too.
Sasha threads the rope through the clip at my waist, skimming the edge of my stomach. “You’re up first.”
“Me? Nuh-uh. Don’t like heights. Jumping out the window of a burning building does that to you.”
“You won’t be jumping, and you won’t be alone. We’ll be climbing together to balance each other’s weight.” Sasha attaches her belt clip to the same rope. “Rock’s strong enough to take care of himself and Doc, but we need to do this in tandem. It's the quickest way.”
It takes Sasha less than a minute to explain the procedure. I try to listen, but the only thought going through my head is Shit, shit, shit. For once, I don’t ask questions.
The spider climb is exactly as terrifying as it sounds. Sasha checks our harnesses one more time, then helps me over the edge of the cliff. It’s much cooler past the trees, but that’s not a comfort. Feeling the breeze reminds me that I’m dangling above empty air. My stomach sloshes, and I have to swallow my heart back down.
I try to remember Sasha’s explanation. Belay, weight, anchor point...Fuck, I've got no clue what I'm doing. I resist the urge to look down, but looking up isn’t any better. The blue sky above me heaves like the upside-down waves of an ocean. My limbs shake in my harness and I might be going crazy, but I think I can taste smoke in my mouth.
Sasha drops beside me, feeding the rope through her belt. "You're fine," she says with a small, forced smile. "Keep breathing and let me stay a few feet below you."
A laugh cracks in my throat, and the taste of smoke fades. "I've finally figured out how to get a smile from you. I have to put myself in life-threatening situations."
"You're not going to die. Look at Rock." Sasha nods at where Rock is climbing hand-over-fist down another rope. He doesn't even seem to be paying attention to his harness. Doc is sitting securely on his shoulders.
Shit. If a twelve-year-old can do this, so can I.
"Three, two, one.” I clench my chattering teeth and drop. My body seizes up, but I come to a stop, swaying softly. Okay. Still panicking a little, but I don’t think I’ll ruin my pants.
Sasha’s voice floats over to me. Maybe she senses that talking helps. "Good news is, we won't have to climb back up. Three, two, one, weight." She plunges down, and I try to ignore the tug of the rope. "Cherry's got a spare shuttle tucked away. We can fly out of the jungle in style."
"Thank God. Three, two, one.” I feed the rope through my clip, coming to a stop over Sas
ha's head. It’s easier the second time. The sky stays in one place. "Couldn’t we have called ahead? Maybe she’d have met us on top of the terrifying cliff."
"Not sure that would have worked. Three, two, one, weight.”
I brace for the jolt. I’m getting better at anticipating Sasha’s movements.
"Well, after AxysGen tried to kill us, our crew didn’t split on the best of terms. There…were some issues."
"Like what?"
The sound of boots hitting rock gives me the courage to look down. Sasha’s standing on a narrow but blessedly flat ledge. I slide the last few yards, sagging as my feet hit solid ground. It’s only when my head stops spinning that I notice we’re not alone.
"Like me," says the woman who’s apparently been waiting for us. She’s almost a match for Sasha in height—fuck, what is it with all the tall people in this crew?—with a striking face and bronze skin. Her hair is flaming red and her eyes burn hot. Her arms are folded over her chest, and clutched tight in her hand is a remote with a big button in the middle. She taps the tip of her thumbnail beside it, glaring at Sasha.
"You have thirty seconds, jefa. Convince me not to blow you off the face of planet Earth."
Wednesday, 06-09-65 18:03:14
MY EYES CAN’T DECIDE where to look. They only rest on the detonator for a moment before darting to where Cherry’s finger taps dangerously close to the button. Cold sweat runs down my spine, and my vertigo returns with a vengeance. Somehow, though, I don’t miss the fact that Cherry’s nails are immaculately polished in a red as bright as her namesake.
While I fight to keep myself together, Sasha holds up her hands in surrender. "What exactly do you want me to tell you? I know you're upset about Rami—"
"Upset is a fucking understatement,” Cherry snarls. "Rami was part of our crew. You abandoned them to go after Megan, when you knew she was probably dead."
Sasha’s face falters. I’ve never seen this expression on her, but I know what it is: guilt. “We didn’t know for sure about Megan. Rami was hurt but moving, and you know as well as I do that they had to get far away from me. I did the best I could in the situation.”
As I listen to the two of them argue, something in my brain breaks. I’ve suddenly had enough of being afraid. A weird wave of calm washes over me, and I notice that Cherry’s lips are perfectly outlined. The pencil and gloss match her nail polish, with neither a chip nor smudge in sight. I have no idea why my fear-drunk mind has fixed on such insignificant details, but I can't help it. I laugh.
"¡No mames! Face and nails on point in the middle of the fucking jungle? Marry me or something."
Cherry's perfectly threaded eyebrows rise higher on her forehead. “Lo siento, chaparrita. I’m taken, assuming Rami’s still alive and this ladilla hasn’t ballsed everything up." She looks pointedly at Sasha when she says that. Even though it’s not an insult I’m familiar with, I get the drift from her tone.
I know an opening when I see one. I need to keep Cherry talking, get her invested in me. Maybe then she’ll be less likely to blow us all up. "¿Está pesada, si?"
Cherry stops tapping her finger next to the giant red button. "Annoying is a fucking understatement.” She uncrosses her arms, towering over me as she begins a thorough inspection. "You’re the new jacker, right? Shit, you look like a rookie.”
My face heats up. Cherry’s examination reminds me of Sasha back in St. Petersburg, trying to look beneath my skin. “Kind of an asshole thing to say, isn’t it?”
Cherry ignores me, speaking to Sasha. “Where’d you find this one, jefa? You been making her promises you can’t keep, too?”
"I didn't promise Rami anything, Cherry,” Sasha says. “They made their choice. They told me to go back and see if Megan was alive."
"Rami thinks they need to be a goddamn hero. Did you really expect them to ask you to stay instead of going in to look for Megan’s body?"
The scar along Sasha’s throat twitches. "No. Would you?"
"No. Fuck." Cherry sighs and drops the remote, stomping on it with her heel. I start to dive, but Cherry stops me. "Don’t. It was fake."
My legs wobble with fear and relief. I lean on Sasha’s elbow for support without even thinking, but Sasha doesn’t seem to care. "Then what, Cherry?" Her voice is quiet, but the breeze carries her soft words a long distance. Or maybe she just seems distant. "You trying to teach me some kind of lesson? Make me feel guilty? Because I don’t need help for that."
Cherry chews on that for a moment, then turns to me and sticks out her hand. "Cherry Vidal. Engineer, explosives expert, Sasha’s wrench.”
Sasha gives her a searching look. "Not my ex-wrench?"
“That depends,” Cherry says, holding the eye contact. “You going to find Rami?”
“Of course.” Sasha seems almost defensive, as if she’s hurt that Cherry would even ask.
I edge myself between them. "Elena Nevares. You’re right, I'm a jacker."
“A jacker, yeah,” Cherry says, relaxing slightly. “But maybe not such a rookie after all.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re running with Sasha. Some skill can be assumed.” Cherry looks back at Sasha. “Rami was last seen in Paris. Once we pick them up, what are we doing about AxysGen?”
“We’re going to delete ourselves from their database,” Sasha says. “So, are you in or not?”
“Yes. Am I the first one you came for, or…?”
Sasha’s lips twitch into the briefest of smiles. “Look up.”
Cherry tilts her head back. Rock and Doc are hanging a few yards overhead, waving down with identical grins. She waves back, then gestures at the other side of the ledge. A reinforced steel door is set into the rock, one I didn’t notice before.
I groan in frustration. "You mean I could’ve gone inside this whole time instead of standing out here and listening to you two bitch at each other?"
Cherry shrugs. "You never asked to come in.”
“Sorry your fake detonator grabbed most of my attention,” I mutter. “I’ll look for a door first next time.”
Sasha gives me a look as if to say, Really? I ignore her and go through the door.
There’s a network of tunnels inside the cliff—smooth stone underfoot, overhead lighting too. It’s also blessedly cool, without the added fear of falling. I want to soak it all into my skin and let the layers of sweat evaporate.
"I try to keep up with the place," Cherry says when she notices me looking around. “It’s a hole in the wall, but it’s my hole in the wall.”
"I thought it was rigged to explode. Why bother if you’re gonna blow it up later?”
"That’s what I told her," Doc says. She and Rock have joined us inside, although she’s back on her own feet. The tunnel is barely tall enough for Rock to stand up straight.
Cherry ruffles the hair on top of Doc’s head. "And I explain that I can’t find anything when she leaves her crap lying around."
"Hey, don’t give me that sappy shit,” Doc grumbles. “I’m mad at you, Cherry. You’re mad at Sasha for leaving Rami to try and save Megan, but you didn’t look for me and Rock after things went south. Check a dictionary under hypocritical."
Cherry gives a small sigh. "I was gonna track both of you down after I found Rami."
I bite back more questions. This is exactly why I don’t crewbond. Family dynamics can get pretty fucked up.
There’s a door around the next corner. Cherry presses her hand to the glowing orange scanner pad next to it. "Control room. We can take what we need and head to the shuttle bay."
"There's a shuttle bay here, too?" I ask. "Any terminals?"
"Only intranet ports," Cherry says, glancing at me sidelong, “and you’d be dealing with catira’s personalized code.”
“What? Who’s Blondie?”
“Megan. They told you about Megan, right?”
The hallway holds its breath.
“Yeah, they did.”
“Well, her shit’s locked down
tight. It won’t be useful to you. Is it important?”
I get what Cherry really wants to know. Some jackers get a little too hooked on the virtual world. It can mess you up, make you dependent for a fix if you’re not careful. Meatspace sucks, and the extranet is this vast floating ocean of freedom. The temptation’s been there for me sometimes, but…brothers. Obligations. I limit myself.
"No, just been a few days since I checked in. I have spyders and a few bitminers running for extra credits."
"You all do,” Cherry says. “This way."
I follow her into the control room. It’s not as big as the Hole, but big enough. There’s a fridge in the corner, a few cots pressed against the walls, and a glowing terminal that still looks active. Sasha, Cherry, Doc, and Rock begin taking the place apart bit by bit. They silently work to dismantle the furniture and gear as a team, not even pausing to divvy up the jobs. Everyone already knows what to do.
"Nevares."
I turn around. Sasha’s brown eyes are fixed on me, boring into my head. The shudder that zips down my spine isn’t from the cold air. "Yeah?"
"I need this wiped.” She nods at Megan’s terminal. It’s nothing special. Haptic interface, port, medium-sized screen—pretty typical setup. I snort when I see the manufacturer, though: Axys Generations.
"Sure thing." I gesture at the terminal. “You need it wiped fast, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t care how I do it?”
“No.”
“Great.” I look around the room until I spot a short piece of piping. There’s five square feet of mess around it, but it’s a neat, contained mess. It looks like Cherry was in the middle of deconstructing an engine of some kind before we barged in on her. I walk over and grab the pipe. When I look at Sasha for permission, she shrugs.
I pop the body of the terminal open and remove the hard drive, setting it on the floor before swinging the pipe down with all my strength. The drive crumples. I swing again—one, two, three times—until it’s only bits of wire and shards of metal. No way AxysGen can pull anything off this thing, no matter how good they are.
"Rock might’ve been better at this,” I pant, hefting the pipe back onto my shoulder.
Lucky 7 Page 4
