21 0 remember, p.25
21.0 - Remember, page 25
part #21 of Girl Out Of The Box Series
Owens made her way across the room to the wall, and ran a hand over it, feeling.
No.
Not feeling.
The metal wall, dark steel with gel inserts, changed, turning from solid, meta-proof construction into something glimmering, glistening in the single overhead light—
Glass.
“You’re the Glass Blower,” I said as Owens put a fist through the glass she’d just made, busting through the storage room wall. “I have such a bone to pick with you. You know in my trial I got blamed for what you did in New York with the US Attorney’s office?”
Owens looked back at me, smiled, and shrugged. “I’d say I owe you, but …”
I looked past her through the hole in the wall. There was a metal ladder right freaking there, just like I’d told—
June?
I looked around, trying not to make it too obvious. There were boxes all around, and I caught a hint of motion behind one of them, a flash of blonde hair. There she was. Hiding like she said she would.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked the doctor, mostly because I needed a pretense to look at her.
“Does it matter? We’re getting you out of here,” she said. She was focused on Owens, the freaking Glass Blower, who was dusting the sides of the hole she’d made, turning the molecules into sand.
“I guess this explains what happened to Clara,” I said. “You turned her into a shattered snowglobe.”
Owens just shrugged again, still smiling a little. “I also opened all the doors in the prison for you so we could get this show on the road, so...y'know. Busting up Clara was probably a minor part of the chaos I've unleashed. Why, I'm practically becoming like you, Nealon.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We’ve been looking out for you,” the doctor said. And that was it. She shut up again.
I looked where I’d seen June’s motion. She was peering out from behind the box with one eye, straight at me. She made a subtle motion, one I took to mean, “Should I help?”
I shook my head, similarly subtle. I didn’t want to see what would happen if June got in the way of “Owens” and the doctor. The Glass Blower had killed quite a few people in that attack on New York City’s US Attorney’s office, after all. I doubted she’d feel much compunction about wasting a prisoner here. The doctor sure as hell hadn’t.
“You want to just toss her up to me, and I’ll climb with her?” Owens asked. She was already on the ladder. “Exit’s clear and they’re waiting for us.”
“I’ll carry her,” the doctor said, and looked down at me. Her expression was so …
Cold.
“But first,” she said, and slipped a bloody hand into her lab coat, coming out with a syringe. “You’ll wake up in a better place.”
“Revelen is better?” I asked. Not expecting an answer.
“Than here? Certainly,” she said, and slipped the needle into my neck.
“If I could … put my hands on your face right now …” I muttered, darkness already sweeping in around the edges of my consciousness, “… I would totally … choke you … or slap you … or something …” My head sagged.
“That’s a funny way to show your gratitude for me saving your life,” she said.
“Didn’t … save … anything … taking me to … Vlad,” I muttered, my lips going numb.
“Don’t be so sure,” she said. “He’s been wanting to meet you for a while. Once you get there, you’ll … get a different view of him.”
“Yeah … of his innards … when I gut his ass,” I managed to get out.
“You wouldn’t be the first to try,” she said … and was that a smile I heard in her voice?
I passed out into darkness.
Damn.
I was going to Revelen.
It really was inescapable fate.
50.
Sophie
Four Years Ago
Sophie stepped into the quiet of Penny’s den, a traditional room in a traditional house, a Texas-style ranch home that … looked utterly alien for the woman in it.
“You don’t really see me in this kind of environs, right?” Penny asked, not looking up from cross-stitching something. The pattern was unclear, and she was doing it slowly, almost human speed.
“It’s a far cry from where you were before,” Sophie said. The air smelled of apples and cinnamon. “You almost seem like a … Texas grandmother.” Sophie had her own thoughts about that, that loaded phrase.
“I am in Texas, and I am a grandmother,” Penny said, staring at the cross-stitch. “And a great-grandmother, and … so on.” She looked up, eyes glittering, a flash of regret visible before she looked back down at the pattern.
“She thought you were Penelope,” Sophie said. She almost wanted to laugh at that. “She was so riled … she didn’t even pay attention to what you did with the roots.”
“Let her believe it,” Penny said, staring straight ahead. There was no twinkle in her eye now. “It’s better than the truth. That she was … blood … one of the few left that …” She let out a slow breath, her head sagged. “She fought Sovereign all by her lonesome. Beat him, alone.” She looked up at Sophie. “That girl has every reason to be mad … and even more that she doesn’t know about.”
“I was on my way when she killed him,” Sophie said. It was a simple fact, she didn’t feel much need to justify. “As soon as Century was out of the way …”
“I wouldn’t tell her that,” Penny said. Now she was smiling, though it was rueful. “I don’t think she’ll take it well. Not from you, not from anybody.”
“We couldn’t move until they were out of the way,” Sophie said. “One of their telepaths reading us and this whole place—and Revelen … would have been exposed.”
Penny’s eyes were a little more slitted now. “Don’t go grouping us here in with them over there.”
Sophie smiled. “Now that sounded like something a Texas grandmother would say.”
Penny snorted. “You’re going back, aren’t you?” Looked her dead in the eyes. “To him.”
“Nobody wants me here but you.”
Penny’s eyes focused on her, and they were intense. “Aren’t I enough?”
“You may be a grandmother, but you’re not my grandmother,” Sophie said. “And your guilt no longer works on me.”
“True enough,” Penny said softly. “You might want to tell Vlad … or whatever the hell he’s calling himself these days … about her.”
“You think she killed Sovereign and it just escaped his notice?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t care what escapes his notice anymore, so long as I continue to,” Penny said.
Sophie smiled. “I don’t think he holds any ill will about it anymore.”
Penny did not smile. “I do.”
“I’ll tell him,” Sophie said, turning away. “About her.”
“You’re always welcome in my house, you know,” Penny called after her. “I don’t care how old you get—if you and he have another falling out—”
“I don’t fall out with him,” Sophie said, not turning back. “I’m too old to argue with him, or you, or anyone—”
“I witnessed something different this very afternoon.”
“Sienna’s too cantankerous by half,” Sophie said. “I wasn’t looking for an argument with her, she was looking for one with me. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever the case,” Penny said, rising up and putting the cross-stitch aside, “if you get tired of Eastern Europe … come on back.”
“It’s too hot here,” Sophie said. “If I leave there, I’m going back to Norway.” She saw the slight pang in Penny’s eyes. “All right, Mother. Fine. If I leave Revelen … I’ll come back here. At least for a little while.”
“That’s all I ask,” Penny said. Now her eyes were shining again. Bright green, like the fields that encircled this town. The fields she’d sown and grown, that fed this town. She went for a hug, and Sophie let her. Went for a kiss on the cheek—
“Don’t,” Sophie said, holding up a hand to stop her.
“Fine,” Penny said. There was a wounded look this time, too; maybe she wasn’t over her mother’s guilt. “Take care, y’hear? And … don’t you let him hurt that girl.”
How the hell was she supposed to answer that?
Penny locked the gaze on her, and it was like staring vibrant, verdant life in the damned face. “Don’t. You hear me? Promise.”
“I don’t make promises to—”
“I’m your mother. Promise me.”
Sophie stopped. Sighed.
Some things never changed.
“I promise,” Sophie said. “I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s all I ask,” Penny said, hovering near her cheek. But she didn’t kiss it, instead going back to her cross-stitch pattern as Sophie walked out the door into the sweltering night.
Epilogue
Bruno Passerini
Situation Room
The White House
Washington DC
Now
“What is this? Night five?” Secretary of Defense Bruno Passerini asked, refilling his coffee cup from a pot in the corner. No steward for him. Passerini was a man used to pouring his own coffee. He doubted he’d ever get used to someone else doing it for him.
“They’re all blending together, honestly,” Secretary of State Lisa Ngo said, rising to fill her own cup. She’d struck him as more of a tea person—but also the only other sensible one in the room with him for this whole mess.
Passerini finished his pour and stared at the green haze of the night vision on the main screen. It was a feed from a real-time down-looking satellite passing over Eastern Europe right now. If need be, it could be switched to thermal imaging, and he was sure someone—a lot of someones—at the Pentagon were watching in that mode right now and making a tally of all the vehicles crossing the border that was highlighted by an electronic yellow line superimposed over the image.
“You ever see a country of two million flat-out take over a country of a hundred fifty million?” Passerini asked, the coffee steaming up past his nose. “Without a fight, no less?”
“I’ve spent thirty years at Foggy Bottom, or on assignments around the world,” Ngo said. They were talking quietly, but no one else in the room was speaking. It was that kind of meeting, especially given the cumulative fatigue in the room after five nights of this shit. Or was it six? “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ngo said. “And technically … it’s three million people. A couple years ago Revelen pulled this same takeover thing with Canta Morgana, earning them a slice of Baltic beachfront and an extra million in population. Canta Morgana disappeared without a ripple, now all that’s left is Revelen.”
“You seeing any changeover of embassy personnel?” Passerini asked. “Point of contact, diplomatically?”
Ngo just shook her head, glasses catching the reflection of the green screen. “Nope. The Russian Embassy is still open, but the ambassador has been ‘recalled.’” She shrugged. “You know what the really messed up part is? We don’t even know who’s in charge of Revelen.”
Passerini cleared his throat. “I know. I had a brief with CIA a few days ago when this got rolling—you hear what they’ve got in country? Nada. Not one asset on the ground. It’s our biggest blind spot on the planet, we have less in place there than in Iran, North Korea—hell, we’ve got more people in China at this point than in Revelen, and we lost almost our entire network there.”
Ngo nodded. “Heady days. An interesting page of history is being written right now.”
Passerini looked around the room. “If it was that important … you’d think President Gondry would have ducked in sometime in the last few days to take a look.”
Ngo almost snorted her coffee. “I think he’s busy tonight with the Nealon escape. After taking repeated victory laps since this mess started, I mean. That’s gotta sting.”
Passerini blinked. “I … thought they just caught her.”
“They did,” Ngo said, eyes dancing in amusement. It wasn’t her bailiwick either; if it had been her department, Passerini was sure there’d be hell to pay. The fact that it fell under DoJ … well … hopefully some of the blowback would hit that hellbeast Chalke at the FBI. “Easy come, easy go, I guess. She escaped earlier tonight. I hear the President is, uh … displeased.”
Passerini turned his attention back to the screen. Tanks were moving across the border. Again. “If he thinks the worst thing he’s got to worry about right now is some metahuman busting loose of the pen …” He shook his head.
“Yeah,” Ngo said. “Like there’s nothing bigger going on in the world.”
That was … not a tank, Passerini realized. “Switch to thermal, please,” he ordered. A second later, it flipped to white, heat signatures outlined as a glow.
And there it was. Not the road over the gorge at the border, but something moving over the track that ran over a mirrored bridge a few hundred meters south. A train, rolling across the border station at the other side, endless cars with payload strapped to the tops …
Some of them … spanning multiple cars.
“Damn,” Passerini whispered. He blinked, trying to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was.
“What is it?” Ngo asked, staring at the screen, trying to work it out for herself. She was a smart lady. Passerini was pretty sure she’d get it in a minute.
But there was no point in waiting.
“That … is what we call an SH-08 Gazelle missile … that’s the NATO designation,” Passerini said. “It’s part of Russia’s ‘Gorgon’ anti-ballistic system that they’ve got emplaced around Moscow to protect against … well, mostly against us lobbing a nuke into their capitol. I’ll have to wait for an analyst confirmation, but … the silo storage units are … somewhat distinctive.” He pointed at the screen. “And even if I’m wrong … tell me that doesn’t look like they’re shipping missiles into Revelen.”
“You don’t … think Revelen is about to go nuclear … do you?” Ngo asked. The alarm was unmistakable.
“If they’re just giving them an air defense system like this … maybe not,” Passerini said. “These are non-nuclear. They’d probably have to ship ICBM’s—Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles—by boat. And they’ll have some silo digging to do, but … either way …” He shook his head. “I’ve got to wonder what whoever’s in charge in Revelen has in mind … that they think they’re going to need protection from ballistic missiles.”
He sighed.
Night Five.
And this wasn’t getting any better.
“Someone should go warn the president … ” Passerini said, taking a long sip of his coffee. This wasn’t ending anytime soon. It was just getting worse. “… we’ve got an even bigger problem than we thought.”
Sienna Nealon Will Return In
HERO
OUT OF THE BOX, BOOK 22
Coming September 7, 2018!
Get it here!
Author’s Note
Thanks for reading! If you want to know immediately when future books become available, take sixty seconds and sign up for my NEW RELEASE EMAIL ALERTS by CLICKING HERE. I don’t sell your information and I only send out emails when I have a new book out. The reason you should sign up for this is because I don’t always set release dates, and even if you’re following me on Facebook (robertJcrane (Author)) or Twitter (@robertJcrane), it’s easy to miss my book announcements because … well, because social media is an imprecise thing.
Come join the discussion on my website: http://www.robertjcrane.com!
Cheers,
Robert J. Crane
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Editing was handled expertly by Sarah Barbour as per usual, with Jeff Bryan and Jo Evans batting cleanup. Many thanks to all of them.
Once again, the illustrious illustrator Karri Klawiter produced the cover. artbykarri.com is where you can find her amazing works.
Nick Bowman of nickbowman-editing.com provided the formatting that turned this into an actual book and ebook.
And thanks as always to my family – wife, parents, in-laws and occasionally my kids, for keeping a lid on the craziness so I can do this job.
Other Works by Robert J. Crane
World of Sanctuary
Epic Fantasy
Defender: The Sanctuary Series, Volume One
Avenger: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Two
Champion: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Three
Crusader: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Four
Sanctuary Tales, Volume One - A Short Story Collection
Thy Father’s Shadow: The Sanctuary Series, Volume 4.5
Master: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Five
Fated in Darkness: The Sanctuary Series, Volume 5.5
Warlord: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Six
Heretic: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Seven
Legend: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Eight
Ghosts of Sanctuary: The Sanctuary Series, Volume Nine
Call of the Hero: The Sanctuary Series, Volune Ten* (Coming Late 2018!)
A Haven in Ash: Ashes of Luukessia, Volume One (with Michael Winstone)
A Respite From Storms: Ashes of Luukessia, Volume Two (with Michael Winstone)
A Home in the Hills: Ashes of Luukessia, Volume Three* (with Michael Winstone—Coming Mid to Late 2018!)
The Girl in the Box
and
Out of the Box
Contemporary Urban Fantasy
Alone: The Girl in the Box, Book 1
Untouched: The Girl in the Box, Book 2
Soulless: The Girl in the Box, Book 3
Family: The Girl in the Box, Book 4
Omega: The Girl in the Box, Book 5
Broken: The Girl in the Box, Book 6
