Liberation (I Am Margaret Book 3) (28 page)

I gasped.

“Yeah, I didn’t feel too happy. I realised later it was a tiny syringeful... but anyway, he injected me, and I lost all control of my muscles and I admit, Margo, I was that terrified I thought I was going to piss myself. Well, I did, of course, but that was the drug... I couldn’t believe what was happening. I mean, they hadn’t even asked me to make the Divine denial or
anything
.”

A fine tremor seized him just with the memory – I wrapped my other arm around him and held tight in silent comfort. He held me back.

“Anyway, the dismantler gets a scalpel and starts skinning the top of my arm – then after he’s taken a few strips off and I’m a mess and I can’t think of anything other than stopping the rest of it, the stuff wears off, and right on cue, in comes your old friend Mr Reginald Hill and demands to know where the Holy See is hiding out.

“So I told him to go to hell. And he just nodded and said, very well, if I wanted it to be like that. And that I was categorised as a Military Operative of the superstitious rebel organisation known as the Underground...”

“Oh no!” I gasped. That was the EuroGov description for Swiss guards, VSS and Vatican Police.

“...And I would be sentenced accordingly. And the bastard went straight on and sentenced me to... the full whack. And turned to leave.

“I admit, I snapped for a bit, I said come back, I’d make the Divine denial...” He shot me an apologetic look. “I’d rather
not
, but I wasn’t going to die like that when I’m not sure about
all that
. But he didn’t care two hoots about the Divine denial. Just made to leave again.”

Bane was silent for a moment, anger and embarrassment on his face. “I can see now how they played with me. Upturned all my expectations, didn’t give me a moment to adjust. Got me panicking. But an idea popped into my head. A good one. So I said, stop, let me go, and I’ll lead you to the Holy See. And he thought about it, and then he came back and said,
go on
.

“So I told him, I couldn’t
tell
them where because I didn’t know. I just got picked up from a harbour and once I was in the Mediterranean I didn’t know where the boat went. But they could follow me and find out. And he
seemed
to buy it. I mean, I doubt he did. I didn’t believe he did at the time. But he pretended to. Guess he knew I meant to try and escape but wasn’t prepared to risk them failing to wring the information out to me in a more straightforward manner.

“So he struck the deal. I’d be released, they’d tail me to the island – they already knew it was an island. That arranged, they put me out again. Clever. I came round on a road near Nice with my fake ID card back in my pocket and no idea where, or who, my tails were. Knew it wouldn’t just be tails, though. There’d be a tracker in me somewhere.

“So I got on a train for Rome. By the time I’d walked around the city a little, I’d a reasonably good idea who most of the tails were. So I made sure to outdistance them long enough to drop a note through a certain door. It just said I was being followed by some inconvenient Internal Affairs agents.”

He eyed me guiltily, but I just hugged him tighter.

“Well, you know the sort of people who live in a certain house in Rome. I roamed the city for some time, and before long all my tails had mysteriously disappeared.” His eyes searched my face again. “I’m sorry. I was desperate. I had to be utterly sure they were all gone or I could never have come back here.”

No doubt the EuroGov were still fishing their agents out of the Tiber. But I couldn’t feel angry with Bane. He’d kept his hands as clean as he could.

“It’s okay. Go on.”

“So, when I was sure I was clean, I dug into that skinned patch with a knife and fished around until I found the tracker. Which was fun.” He grimaced eloquently. “Knew they’d have hidden it there. And I checked everywhere else as well, just in case, but I couldn’t find a sore spot anywhere, so there wasn’t another one in me.

“Then I changed every stitch I was wearing – yeah, I nicked the new stuff, but don’t get too excited, I know which shop, we can send them some money – ‘cause that was probably all stuffed with trackers too, and finally I borrowed a car and started driving south along the back roads. And then I snuck onto the ferry for Malta to avoid scanning my ID and finally caught a ride with the Gozo post man. And here I am.”

I bit my lip. Easy to see why everyone thought a pretend bargain to lead the EuroGov here might accidentally have ended up as the real thing. But how? Bane had been really thorough in his precautions.

“Did you avoid the satellite?”

“You show me a satellite that could keep track of me in Rome once I’d got shot of those trackers. I went all over the city centre before getting the car from a multi-storey car park. So no way did they see me get in. There were cameras at the ferry terminals but I’d a hat pulled down low and I covered my face by pretending to sneeze or cough whenever I couldn’t avoid looking at one.”

Missed one camera? Someone recognised him and reported him, and they’d figured out Malta by themselves? But he could’ve been going to any of the Greek Island Free States...

“Margo, what’s wrong? You’re so pale... Please, don’t worry. I was really, really careful. There’s no way I’d have come back here if I wasn’t sure it was safe. I’d have gone to Africa first or something.”

He was so certain. He’d tried
so
hard. How to tell him? My belly was fluttering icily. My distraction was at an end and the EuroGov were here...

“Margo?” He held me at arm’s length to search my face. “What’s
wrong
? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I’m not a ghost, okay, if that’s what’s bothering you...” He smiled, teasing for a return smile, but my lips felt numb.

I took his hand, drew him to his feet and led him to the window.

“What do you see out there?”

“
Hell!
Destroyer! What’s that doing there?”

“What do you think? Look closer...”

Bane’s breath caught – he stepped back suddenly, drawing me away from the window.

“Hell.
Hell
. How did they find us?” A frown crossed his face – remembering the lack of breakfast... “Margo? You don’t think I’d
actually
...?” He looked horrified.

I hugged him yet again.

“
No
. I don’t think you made a real deal with them. But they are here. And apparently a lot of people reckon they managed to follow you.”

“They can’t have done!” A hint of desperation in his certainty. “They
can’t
! Come on, let’s go and see how we can get out...”

“They’ve annexed the whole State of Malta,” I told him, as we hurried along the corridor.

“Oh, damn. That’s unexpected.”

“Yeah. And looks likely to scotch any attempt to flee.” My voice shook.

He stopped suddenly and drew me close.

“I promised once I’d do whatever it took to protect you from them – and that stands. Now more than ever.”

“Bane,” I pulled back so I could look him firmly in the eye. “We’re all in the same boat, here. Why should
I
get it easy? Are you going to knife every person in the Citadel?”

He looked away.

“Anyway,” I added, “I can’t let you do it. Don’t think I was ever really going to. If we’ll be knocking at heaven’s door soon enough – well, I’m not taking any chance of them not letting you in.”

Bane frowned, uncertainty about
all that
butting heads with certainty about the agony that awaited... both of us?

“Oh Bane, I’m so sorry! I never meant... I never thought...” Never thought
you’d
have to endure this.

“Margo, Margo...” He drew me close and rested his cheek on my hair. “I’ve made my own choices, haven’t I?”

After a moment he towed me on down the passage.

“Come on. There
must
be some way...”

We looked into the debriefing room – no sign of Jon or Eduardo or Pope Cornelius. A few people gave Bane dirty looks; there were several uncharitable mutters of ‘fool’ and ‘idiot’ – horribly sure I heard someone hiss, ‘traitor!’ We hurried down to the basement to Eduardo’s office, pretending not to have heard, but Bane’s face gave the lie to that.

Eduardo’s office was packed. The three people we were looking for, plus Pope Cornelius’s scaled-down council, the rest of the planning committee – i.e. Sister Krayj and Kyle – Sister Eunice and a number of other important people.

They all fell silent when we entered, staring at Bane, expressions ranging from pity to anger. Bane waded through them to reach Eduardo.

“It
can’t
have been me!
How
could it have been me?”

Eduardo grimaced, though he seemed to be at the sympathetic end of the range.

“I fear it
was
you, Bane. Though I haven’t the slightest doubt it was inadvertent. And I imagine you missed a tracker, that’s
how
.”

“I changed every stitch, shoes, everything! I left
everything
!” He was waving his arms around; he really was upset.

Eduardo’s eyes suddenly narrowed and he moved like a pouncing cat, catching Bane’s left hand.

“Everything?” He tried to draw the wedding ring from Bane’s finger.

“
Leave
that...” snapped Bane, then broke off – went white. “Oh God! Not everything. Not... I didn’t even
think
of leaving...”

“Of leaving this.” Eduardo drew the ring from Bane’s suddenly unresisting finger and peered at it. “I reckon it’s in here. Reginald bloody Hill’s too well up on our customs.”

“Well.” He dropped the ring back into Bane’s hand. “Not much point worrying about it now, the damage is done. If we actually come up with a plan to flee, we’ll have to sort that out first, but you may as well keep it for now.”

Bane stared at the ring, so precious, so horribly tainted. After a moment he slid it back onto his finger as though in a daze.

“Oh, my God... what have I done?”

He’d gone so dead white I actually guided him to a chair – he sank into it uncomplainingly.

“Does anyone have any ideas
at all
?” Pope Cornelius asked.

There was a depressing silence. Then someone suggested sneaking out and taking over the tank, and someone else asked acidly how they planned to free the whole of Gozo with
one tank
, let along dispose of the warship...

Bane was still whispering, “What have I done?” under his breath, over and over. I perched on the chair arm, slipped my arm around him and rubbed his back in comfort.

“Bane, shss. It’s not your fault...”

“It is... If I’d not been such an impatient fool. If I’d had the sense to take off to Africa instead of coming back here...”

“You might not have made it, it’s a long way... and you still wouldn’t have taken off the ring, would you? You did your very best...”

“No. If I’d not been such a bloody coward! I should’ve just lain there and taken it. Like you’d have done...”

“Not if I’d had such a good idea!”

“That’s all I had to do... lie there and take it. Now every person here’s going to die because I’m a stupid coward!”

“You’re not!”

He didn’t seem to hear me. The depth of his guilt was agonising. I suppose ‘I didn’t mean to’ is always poor consolation.

“Should I get on my blog?” I interrupted another idea-less silence.

Eduardo rolled his eyes slightly.

“Well, it won’t do any
harm
. But if you can write us out of this one...” He snorted faintly and shook his head.

“They haven’t kept this off the news, surely?”

Eduardo pointed to a television in the corner. The sound was off, but it showed live footage of our besieged gate.

Bane stared at the screen.

“There’re camera crews out there...” he murmured, apparently to himself.

“So what
is
the plan?” Sister Krayj sounded rather frustrated.

“The plan?” said Pope Cornelius slowly. “I suppose... The guards can all put their uniforms on now, if they want to. Everyone is to do a thorough check for any paperwork or anything that might incriminate other sections of the Underground and then shred it. And then burn the shreddings. And then scatter the ash to the wind.

“Sister Krayj and those who’ve been involved in the Liberations stay here with Eduardo and continue brainstorming. Margaret, go and do what you do best. Everyone else – all priests go to the cathedral to hear confessions, and we will have Mass at three fifteen this afternoon. That’s about all.”

Silence.

“Actually, there’s one rather important question,” said Eduardo. “Do we fight?”

A longer, more uncomfortable silence. Some people frowned and shook their heads, others looked undecided.