Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3) (14 page)

“We could withdraw at once if that happened.” Bane was clearly planning already. “Choose Facilities very close to the coast for the first attempt, so we wouldn’t be stuck on the mainland for hours. When did it say the code changed? New Year, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right,” said Father Mark.

“Just under one month. Hmm. We’d better focus on this immediately, then. But Jon, what was your idea?”

“Well, we’re beating our heads against the Facilities’ outward defences – which are their strongest. They’re more worried about parents and Resistance getting in, than reAssignees getting out. Those card-locked doors, machine guns, and floodlights are more than enough to thwart most reAssignee’s efforts. If it wasn’t for filthy Finchley we might still be there as well. These weaknesses in the manual aren’t the sort of things you’re likely to pick up on in two years – not from a reAssignee’s perspective.

“But with the weakness that fell into our hands – that card – we organised the Salperton escape fairly smoothly because it was a joint effort. And here’s a whole manual of weaknesses which can only be exploited from inside. So let’s get the reAssignees to help.”

“What? Slight communication problem!” said Alligator.

“I don’t think so,” said Jon. “We work out the plan, write very clear and detailed instructions, put them in something we can fire through the dorm windows – literally through the glass if necessary. There’s usually one or two pretty bright people in each dorm – certainly bright enough to follow a pre-set plan. We rock up and do our bit and if the reAssignees do theirs, they get rescued. If they don’t, they don’t.”

“Can’t say fairer than that,” said Sister Krayj.

Bane’s eyes were glinting.

“That’s a
very
good idea. But let’s concentrate on this camera plan first. If we could manage all the planning and drilling in seven or eight days, with two raids a week we could empty sixty Facilities before New Year’s Day!”

“Aren’t they going to figure it out?” protested Kyle.

“Not immediately. Not if we keep scrambling the computers in the camera room, leaving them no video record of what happened. I bet we can pull off at least three or four raids before they stop assuming the guards simply weren’t paying attention to their monitors.

“And what about the fifth and sixth raids?” asked Sister Krayj dryly.

“Well, realising the guards may actually
not
have been asleep isn’t the same thing as realising we’re tampering with the cameras. To begin with they’ll probably be looking for ways we could’ve got in unseen.”

Six raids in three weeks. My palms had gone damp with sweat just thinking about it. But – a colossal blow to the EuroGov if we could pull it off.

“Aiming high is good,” said Father Mark, “but it is possible to aim too high.”

“We need to think it through,” I said. “If they figure it out, they can’t rewrite the software quickly enough to make a trap, according to Eduardo, so what
are
they likely to do?”

“Extra sentries?” suggested Jon.

“Covers over the gunslits,” said Sister Krayj. “They might do that before they even figure out how we’re foiling the cameras. Or screens for the guards to sit behind.”

“We can deal with those,” said Eduardo.

“Oh?”

“I’d have to test the theory, but I reckon the fifty-percent-lethal grenades would be pretty safely
nonLethal
let off against bulletproof glass.”

“And if we have access to the camera feeds, we’ve a good chance of spotting any extra guards even if they’re hidden,” said Father Mark.

“What about foot patrols?” suggested Jon. “Around the forest line, say?”

“All night at every Facility in the EuroBloc?” Alligator said. “They’d actually have to take on more guards, wouldn’t they?”

“What would be the point?” snorted Sister Krayj. “We sneak up behind them with our nonLees and that’s that. Sleeping guards and we continue with the plan.”

“Well, keep thinking of possible snags, everyone,” said Bane, “but let’s start planning this. Eduardo, who or what will we need with us to use that code?”

“A laptop and a person with some basic training from me. Should be pretty simple – we can choose a current member of each team, no need for reshuffles.”

“Right. Do we have ten laptops? Never mind, we’ll leave that to you. Our basic plan should be able to be virtually the same as before, actually. We’ll just need to wait for our hackers to sort out the camera feeds first, then take the camera room as well once we’re inside.”

“Good,” said Father Mark, and cocked an eyebrow at Eduardo. “Simplest is best, hmm?”

Simple it was. We chose ten Italian Facilities this time, all near the coast, using three separate fishing villages to ensure no team had more than a forty-five minute drive to reach their boat. The raid went so like the previous one I’d a pounding sense of
déjà vu
the whole time. Once again we loaded ourselves and our increasingly excited rescuees onto speed boats whilst larger boats took charge of the trucks and headed in a straight line for Gozo to make up for their slower speed.

We rendezvoused with the
Freedom III
this time, and headed for home. Vehicle team weren’t even late.

“Brilliant!” I sighed, throwing myself on my bed – then scrambling straight off again. “Hey, look, my seeds have sprouted at last...”

“I don’t think they were being particularly slow, y’know,” said Jon.

“My impatient gardener,” smirked Bane, hugging me. “Your mum wouldn’t let you near her plants, would she?”

“Not very often,” I admitted.

“What are they going to be, then?”

I shrugged.

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

A hand caught my belt as I started to climb up into the cab of the truck, bringing me to a halt.

“Ah-ah-ah, my little turtle dove,” said a rather emotionless voice. “You’ve forgotten your shell.”

I slid back down to the flagstones of the square and allowed Eduardo to fasten me into the bulletproof jacket. Why did I even bother trying to avoid him? We’d pulled off another two successful raids and I’d been more a turtle than a brown bird for both of them.

“Sure you want to go along?” Eduardo asked, would-be casually. “Plenty of work back here…”

“Why are you buttoning
me
into this thing and asking
me
that? What about Pussycat?”

“Pussycat is third in command of this team, unless it’s escaped your notice. She’d be a little hard to replace.”

“And you can pull an alternative sniper out of your hat, all drilled and ready to go?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” he replied, without twitching an eyelid.

Ask a stupid question. Why was I bothering having this conversation? We’d had a variant of it about four times now. And twice with the Holy Father. And about six times with Jon and about ten with Bane. Eight times with Kyle. Twice with Father Mark. Sister Krayj, once. Sister Mari, three times. Jack… okay, I’d been having this conversation a lot. It wasn’t just Eduardo.

“So sorry to disappoint your eager replacement.” I made it into the cab this time.

He gave what from anyone else would’ve been a full blown sigh. Bane scrambled up past him as well.

“Watch it. If you nag her too much she’ll un-invite you to the wedding.”

“You can talk,” I told him.

“Yeah, but you can’t exactly un-invite
me
, can you?”

I had to laugh.

“Yeah, okay, but seriously, after New Year we are taking a few days off to sort that out, right? You and me and Little Lion, at the very least.”

“Fine by me,” said Eduardo.

Bane smiled.

“More than fine by me. Okay, we’ll be home for Winterfest –
sorry
– Christmas. Just.”

My first openly celebrated Christmas. I was looking forward to it. My first Winterfest without Mum and Dad. Not looking forward to
that
quite so much.

Eight hours later, a tree dripped water down the back of my neck, an unlocatable piece of rock dug persistently into my leg and my knees ached from the long crawl forward to the forestline. What a way to spend Christmas Eve! Almost made me feel I should just let everyone have their way and stay behind. But only almost. Another seventy people to rescue... Could get addictive.

I bent my head to my sights again, scanning the Facility in front of us. All normal. The guards in the towers were awake and very active, though. They’d stood up, swapped places and sat again three times in the last three minutes. New orders, to make it harder for us?

“We’re going to have to make this fast,” I murmured to Bane, hand over my mic. The dripping trees and undergrowth covered any small sounds we made – the damp did have its uses.

“Yep,” he murmured back. “But one minute should be enough time.”

On Bane’s other side Father Mark went on eyeing the Facility through his own sights. Bane wanted to get more teams up and running in time to utilise Jon’s idea, so Alligator and Fox One had taken over from Father Mark running the boy’s side – a trial run for future positions as team leaders.

Father Mark had joined Fox Two on our corner. Fox Two wasn’t too happy at being parted from his brother, but he’d accepted it with good grace. It was understood he’d be on his brother’s team if Fox One got one. A major reshuffle was imminent. Shame, our team worked well. Five successful missions, if you counted the train hijack.

“Everything look normal to you?” I just caught Bane’s words.

Father Mark drew away from his sights and nodded.

“Looks normal.”

I didn’t miss the note of doubtfulness. Nor did Bane.

“What’s bothering you, then?”

“Granted it would be helpful if I could tell you. Back of my neck’s prickling, for lack of a better way of putting it. I suppose we’d better get on with it.”

Bane hesitated, and I sensed rather than saw the frown on his face. He didn’t feel he could abort the mission on the grounds of one person’s prickly neck, but he wondered if he shouldn’t do so, all the same. With it being
this
person.

“If you say pull out, we’ll pull out. There’ll still be nine Facilities emptied tonight.”

Father Mark was scowling now, I could hear it in his voice.

“I don’t want to leave seventy people to die just because I’m feeling twitchy.”

“This is Pussycat, are we good to go?” came over our earpieces.

“This is Cuckoo, carry on holding,” replied Bane shortly. “Actually… Alligator?”

“Here.”

“Send someone back to the trucks on your side to check the way is clear, okay? Quick and Quiet. Fox Two, you go on this side.” Fox Two slithered away almost before he’d stopped speaking.

“Giraffe going now. Problem?”

“Probably not. Precaution.”

“Look,” said Father Mark – sorry, Little Lion – still covering his mic, “Do you mind if I make a circuit of this place? I shouldn’t be gone much longer than Fox Two. If something is up, better find out before everyone’s committed.”

Bane frowned for a moment. So far each Facility had been left in blissful ignorance of its loss until the morning guard shifts got up and found they couldn’t get out of their quarters –
he he!
– but if something went wrong for one of the other teams all the Facilities in the area would be put on alert.
But
.

“Okay. Go and make a circuit, check things out. Be careful.”

“As careful as one can be when attempting to spring a trap.”

Father Mark drew his nonLee pistol, leaving the sniper rifle where it lay, and rose silently to his feet. Too time-consuming to crawl all around the Facility and anyway, we’d sprung no trap by our stealthy arrival on the forestline.

Like a shadow, he moved several paces to the left.

Light flooded our area of forest and a panic-stricken voice spoke in Esperanto.

“Drop the gun and put your hands up right now or I’ll effing shoot you!”

***+***

12

NEVER-ALL-RIGHT-AGAIN-NESS

Father Mark froze – looked up. A Facility guard sat on the tree branch on which the floodlight was mounted.

Trap.

“Drop the gun, I mean it!”

The pistol trained on him was a Lethal, no doubt, and the range very short. Slowly, Father Mark held the nonLee out to one side and let it fall. Bane was motionless beside me – I fought to remain utterly still. We were squarely in the light, but we
were
camouflaged. If we could just go unnoticed long enough... perhaps we could draw our own pistols... or even turn the long rifles, but the guy was practically behind us...

“Now give it a kick out into the killing zone...” Father Mark obeyed. “Right, I’m coming down...” The guard’s voice shook. Young and very nervous. “I’ve gotta jump, and if you aren’t exactly where you are now when I hit the deck, I’m gonna pull this trigger, understand?”

Father Mark nodded. The guard jumped, pistol clutched in a firm two-handed grip. Young and athletic, he landed with scarcely a wobble – no chance for Father Mark to dive after his nonLee or for me and Bane to try for ours.

“Now, you’re going to walk across to the Facility, nice and quietly.”

“Am I?” But Father Mark took a few steps in that direction – trying to lure the guard away from us and into our line of fire.

A tinny voice issued from the region of the guard’s wrist, speaking in Italian. Demanding why the light was on?

“Not so fast...” the guard halted Father Mark. “Just stand there a moment.”

With, as he thought, Father Mark’s back safely turned, the guard took his left hand from the butt of the pistol and raised his wristcell to his mouth. Bane and I swung our rifles, fingers tightening on triggers, but the guard caught the movement and leapt forward, pistol still pointing straight at Father Mark’s head, now barely two metres away.

“Don’t shoot! Or... I will!”

“Stop, he’ll have time to pull the trigger,” I hissed to Bane, but Bane’s rifle had stopped moving already.

“Now put those things down on the ground,” the guard’s voice was thin with fear, “and stand up – keep your hands where I can see them!”

We glanced at one another – hard to tell under all Bane’s camouflage paint, but he looked grim as – we obeyed, slowly and carefully.

“Now walk to join your buddy... hey, who told you to turn around?”

Father Mark made no move to turn his back again. Bane started towards him, but stopped at the point closest to the guard. I stopped with him, mouth dry and mind trying to dissolve into panic. If we couldn’t get away... if we were taken to the Facility...
Oh Lord, help us!
How long would it take Fox Two to return? Had he even seen the light, crawling with his back to us?

“Why’re you stopping?” demanded the guard. “I swear, I will shoot your buddy, so get moving...”

Father Mark exchanged a look with Bane. What...? What were they saying to each other so silently?

Father Mark’s hand twitched, once, twice, thrice...

They sprang like pouncing tigers. A shot rang out – Father Mark fell... Bane slammed into the guard, carrying him to the ground.
Of course! Stupid, Margo
... I rushed forward as they grappled on the bare earth, fighting for control of the pistol. Slammed my foot down on the guard’s wrist, putting my weight on it – Bane twisted the gun from the guard’s grip as I pulled out my nonLee pistol.

“Bane, move!”

He rolled clear, guard’s pistol in his grasp, and I fired. The guard went limp on the ground. Bane started to scramble to his feet and I turned to Father Mark – everything went into the slow motion ice-blizzard of never-all-right-again-ness...

Father Mark lay on his back, his arms out flung, motionless – a small bloody hole in the right side of his forehead.

A search light sliced through the dimmer glow of Facility and tree-mounted floodlights, catching us like hares in a poacher’s beam. We didn’t look anything like Facility guards... this was bad... but... I couldn’t drag my eyes from Father Mark, from that little, bloody hole...

“Margo!” Bane grabbed me from behind, looked past me at Father Mark – his head jerked back in shock. “Oh God, no!”

Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat
...

The sound split the silence and a hammer struck me several times in the chest, lifting me off my feet and slamming me to the ground. Gasping, winded, I struggled to think... to rise... Bane was rushing after me, the machine gun chattered again... Then Bane was falling – pure shock in his eyes – he was hit! I floundered up at last, grabbing for him; he tried to push me away.

“
Go
...”

I pulled his arm over my shoulders, trying to haul him to his feet. Perhaps adrenalin came to his aid ‘cause he lurched up and we staggered forwards... trees, safety... I tried to angle us to place my slightly more bulletproof self between him and the chattering, chattering gun... Soil spurted up all around – as we plunged into the trees another hammer hit me in the back – we flew forward through a bush to land in a heap on the other side... but we were still in that damned tree-mounted light...

“Come on, Bane,
come on
...” But he lay still on the ground... Bullets began to shred the top of the bush... I wrestled Bane’s nonLee pistol out from beneath him – twisted onto my back and fired wildly at the light... at the third shot it went out and I lay gasping, my mind blank with shock, and pain, and lack of air – an elephant was sitting on my chest, at minimum.

Bane, get Bane away...

The search light worried at the bush like a hungry bear, but the machine gun fell silent, they thought we’d gone on into the trees –
thank you, Lord
. I rolled back over to Bane, my hands searching... blood soaked his back...

“Brown Bird?” A frantic voice. “Brown Bird? Cuckoo? Little Lion? Fox Two?”

“Kyle...” I wheezed, barely audibly. But the next moment Kyle came crawling from the forest.

“What the hell is happening?”

“Bane’s hurt! Help me!”

“Where’s Little Lion, Fox Two?” His eyes flicked warily to that questing searchlight.

“Fox Two somewhere between here and trucks, safe. Little Lion... Little Lion’s dead.” Using the code name I could get the words out, just.

“Oh hell...” But Kyle immediately scrambled to Bane’s other side, shook him and realised he was unconscious. “
Damn
... Come on, let’s get out of here...”

He pulled Bane’s arm over his shoulder and I tried to do the same, still puffing and wheezing.

“Are
you
hurt, Margo?”

“Don’t think so,” I gasped. “Come on, Bane’s bleeding...”

If it hadn’t been for that terrifying fact, I could barely have moved at all, let alone carrying half my fiancé’s weight. But we hadn’t dragged him far when Fox Two rose warily from behind a bush, nonLee pistol in hand.

“It’s us,” hissed Kyle. “Bane’s hurt, help us, quick...”

“Where’s Little Lion?” Fox Two eased Bane from my grasp – I could hardly make my fingers let go – and we began to head much more rapidly for the truck.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING!” The piercing voice in my ear finally penetrated, and the fog lifted slightly.

“Pussycat?” I said stupidly.

“Thank
heck
! Look out for guards up trees, one just popped up and tried to shoot Gecko as he headed over to you. What is
happening
over there?”

I fought for clarity.

“It’s a trap. One guard with a floodlight mounted on each corner – I presume. Don’t think they noticed us crawl into position so no one stand up. We need to abort.”

“Is that Brown Bird? Why are you talking to me?”

“Cuckoo and Little Lion are down.” My throat closed so much the words came out as an anguished squeak.

Pussycat allowed herself just one long hiss of dismay.

“This is Pussycat, assuming command. Listen up everyone, in a moment I will give the order to abort. The scruffy chick side are to look above them – no sudden movements – for a guard or guards in the trees above. If you can spot them, shoot them, they haven’t that far to fall. Then get up and withdraw with all speed. If you can’t spot them, crawl away, with all
stealth
. Understood?” She paused a moment for queries, but there was silence. “Right, abort,
now
.”

The truck came into sight ahead and Boyracer rushed to help us. The three guys heaved Bane up into the back, laying him along the seat on his stomach. Fox Two scrambled up, and I followed; he shone a red
torch
on Bane’s back... the blood glistened with an oily sheen against the forest damp – so
much
of it...

I reached down and grabbed the first aid kit as Boyracer hurried around to the tailgate with it, yanked open the lid... stared at the contents – my mind blank again...

“Pad,” said Fox Two clearly, his hands pressing down on Bane’s side – he’d found the wound. “Get a
pad
, okay?”

Pad. Pad. My fumbling hands dug through the supplies. There... a pad, ‘battle-ready’ as they called it, the securing bandages already rolled ready to use.

“Here...” I shoved it at Fox Two. He lifted his hands just long enough to grab it and press it in place.

“Margo, press down on this, hard, okay?”

I shifted closer and did so, and with Kyle’s help he began to unroll the bandages, binding the pad as tightly as he could.

At some point Sister Krayj appeared beside me, her balaclava up around her forehead, staring grimly at Bane’s unresponsive form.

“Full Check,” came her voice and I was vaguely aware of everyone signing in.

“Okay, and Cuckoo and Brown Bird are here, where’s Little Lion?”

Silence.

“He’s dead,” said Kyle in a low voice.

Sister Krayj drew in a sharp breath, her face closing. She and Father Mark hadn’t been quite best forever friends, but there’d been a great depth of understanding between them.

“Where did you leave him?”

“Margo?” Kyle shook my shoulder gently. “Margo, where did you... where did you leave Little Lion’s body?”

I bludgeoned my brain into remembering how to speak and moistened dry lips.

“In the killing zone. S’no good.”

“We need to move,” cut in Fox Two. “As far as Cuckoo’s concerned every second counts.”

Sister Krayj nodded, and spoke into her mic again.

“Scruffy chicks, we’re moving out. We have a casualty and we are not waiting for you, here or at the harbour, you’re on your own, understood?”

“Understood,” came Jack’s voice.

Boyracer lived up to his code name more than ever, flooring it, and for once I wasn’t sorry. The truck tore through the forest, leaping and lurching on the rough track. More than once branches stabbed through the canvas sides, snapping against the metal roof stays, and we all moved to the centre seating for safety.

Kyle braced me against the motion of the vehicle and I pressed the pad to Bane’s back, pressed it and pressed it until my hands grew numb and I had to let Fox Two take over. He’d been checking Bane front and back with Gerbil’s help, muttering about entry wounds and exit wounds, but he hadn’t asked for another pad, so apparently there was only one hole. All the guards had first aid training, but the others clearly felt Fox Two was the best for the job. Good enough for me.

“Margo, take a break.” Kyle took my shaking hands. “Now, are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“M’fine...” I mumbled. “M’wearing this stupid vest... Bane should’ve had it on...”

Sister Krayj crouched in front of me, examining my chest with her red torch.

“I don’t think so, Brown Bird. Look at your jacket.”

I watched blankly as she poked her finger through three separate holes in the fabric. Didn’t seem very important – I turned back to Bane. Fox Two and Gerbil were replacing the pad.

“Why doesn’t the bleeding stop?” I asked thinly.

“Well, it’s quite a large hole,” said Fox Two softly, glancing my way.

“Merciful Lord, Margo!” said Kyle behind me. “There’s another hole in the back of your jacket, are you sure you’re okay? What’s all this blood here?”

“Bane’s...” I muttered.

“No, not Bane’s...” He poked at the top of my right arm in the light of Sister Krayj’s torch. “You’re bleeding.”

“Well, it’s obviously not serious...”

“Look, let me put a bandage on it...”

“Sit still, Brown Bird, and let us check you over,” ordered Sister Krayj. “If you hadn’t noticed that little hole, there could be more.”

“Look after
Bane
.”

“We can’t do anything that isn’t already being done. Now, sit
still
.”

They poked and prodded me thoroughly and Kyle put a bandage over the nick in my arm. I hardly noticed. Too busy watching Fox Two with mounting terror – his fingers went to the pulse on Bane’s neck every few minutes, now.