Allie's War Season Three (149 page)

Read Allie's War Season Three Online

Authors: JC Andrijeski

BOOK: Allie's War Season Three
13.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Well, not for this particular interview, anyway. Balidor could see the faint glass in the older seer’s eyes, though, and recognized the odd dips in his aleimi from the drugs. Even so, he couldn’t help but be grudgingly impressed with the other infiltrator’s resistance to the drug’s effects. No one would be able to resist them totally, of course, not even Dehgoies himself, but Ditrini was a reasonably close second.

Those eerie, mercury-colored eyes still held a sharp awareness, however.

Ditrini knew Balidor, of course.

Even if he didn’t remember him from their one and only in-person meeting before all of this, Ditrini would have been aware of Balidor, regardless. Since they’d begun these sessions, Balidor had discovered that Ditrini’s knowledge of Balidor’s own comings and goings over the years appeared to be fairly complete, and surprisingly accurate. He even seemed to know some personal details, which told Balidor that the Lao Hu infiltrators hadn’t been as indifferent towards the Adhipan’s inner circle as they pretended.

Balidor was still watching him warily, when a series of images flickered past his awareness, sharp enough that he actually winced.

When he glanced up that time, meeting those silver irises, the seer was smiling.

Balidor never really had a heart-to-heart with Allie about her time with the Lao Hu. Truthfully, he’d never really wanted to know that much about it, and he knew he wasn’t the only one. He certainly didn’t think he was the right person to help her with it, in any case.

Balidor suspected, just from things Dehgoies said here and there, that her husband hadn’t pressed her for details, either.

Balidor wasn’t entirely oblivious, however...or unobservant to Allie’s own reactions whenever the topic came up. He knew, for example, that Allie had been deeply unhappy during her time there. He’d picked up enough from her, when she let in stray thoughts or squashed unconscious associations, memories, or images, to know that much with absolute certainty. He’d felt trauma of some kind, too, the type of deeply hidden trauma that she might have closed herself off from feeling entirely, whether consciously or not.

Allie hadn’t once asked to speak to Ditrini, or even inquired about where they held him, since they acquired him on that boat in San Francisco. She hadn’t asked how the interrogations were going. She hadn’t even asked if he was still alive.

Those facts alone were telling enough.

Allie had a tendency to want to be involved in every aspect of their intelligence operations. At minimum, she would want to be kept up to date at the level of findings and overall progress. She’d wanted every piece of information they gleaned from Surli and even Raven in as real-time of a fashion as possible, and would actually come down on them pretty hard for withholding or delaying transmission of any new facts or even theories from their interrogations.

With Ditrini, she hadn’t asked him a single question. Not once.

When he’d tried to interview her to glean background on the Lao Hu infiltrator, she hadn’t exactly cooperated, either. Instead of agreeing to let him scan her, Allie directed Balidor to Wreg, to whom she claimed she’d told the basics.

Wreg did know a few things, it was true, but there had been some pretty significant gaps in his chronology of events. Even so, Wreg shared enough that Balidor had no doubt as to what he would be dealing with in Ditrini.

Wreg had his own opinions on the subject too, of course. He told Balidor in no uncertain terms that the guy was a sadist, one who got off on torturing female seers in particular, especially powerful ones. Wreg knew a few stories from his rebel contacts, too, so he was able to guess some of the areas where Allie might have been deliberately fuzzy with the details.

Balidor hadn’t scanned the Bridge outright to verify his suspicions, but if he had to guess, he would say that Allie was afraid of Ditrini...and truthfully, before now, Balidor would have said that Allie wasn’t afraid of much of anyone.

She hadn’t even been afraid of her husband while he was under the influence of the Dreng...or of Wreg, or even Salinse himself. She still seemed more pissed off at Shadow than afraid of him, unlike pretty much everyone else on their team, apart from maybe Jon.

But Ditrini, Allie wanted no part of.

Strangely, Allie herself had been the one to give the order to bring him in, though, rather than kill him on the spot, as Balidor suspected Dehgoies would have done. Ever since then, she’d avoided any mention of the Lao Hu infiltrator’s name, however.

Balidor almost wondered if she preferred to think of him as already dead.

The more Balidor learned about Ditrini, the more he felt sympathetic to that sentiment. The realization that this bastard still got off on what he’d done to her, that he still enjoyed thinking about it and fantasizing about it, brought a disgust so deep that, at times, Balidor tasted bile at the back of his throat. Wreg told him that Ditrini would likely view breaking Allie as the culmination of his life’s work, given what he’d done to other powerful female seers in the past. He said it made total sense he would fixate on her, given his tastes. The fact that she’d already been bonded to another would only intensify his obsession with making her his.

It had been rare that he’d had an honest-to-gods psychopath under his care, but Balidor had no doubt that he was looking at one now.

Unfortunately, he also had a sight rank that rivaled Balidor’s own. The Lao Hu were cagey to the point of outright dishonesty about the rankings of their infiltrators, even deliberately adopting a system unlike that used by the rest of the seer world, just to obscure those abilities from view. Even so, Balidor had gotten pretty good at guessing over the years.

Ditrini’s rank was high. Eleven at least. Perhaps even twelve.

Higher than Varlan. Perhaps even higher than Dehgoies, and not only in actual.

Touching his headset, Balidor used the link to ping Tenzi in the Barrier.

Is Anale there yet? Yumi?

Yes,
the seer answered at once.
Loki, too.

Balidor nodded.
Good,
he sent.
Tell them I appreciate their putting off their much-deserved breaks. Feed me anything that looks promising. Anything I miss.

Very good, Adhipan Balidor.
Tenzi’s thoughts turned wryly humorous.
Although it’s pretty hard to imagine one of us catching something you miss, sir...

Balidor smiled politely, inclining his head in the space, but it didn’t really touch his light. He needed them sharp, not assuming he didn’t need the backup.

He felt Tenzi notice his reaction, right before the businesslike cadence returned to the younger seer’s thoughts.

Of course we’ll be watching, sir. As carefully as we can...

I appreciate it,
Balidor sent, letting his guard down that time.
I’m as tired as the rest of you, and I confess, this
dugra d’ aros
pushes my buttons more than any seer in the last one hundred years. A part of me would as soon as shoot him as continue this little exercise...

Balidor felt Tenzi’s vehement agreement, even before it turned into words.

Let me know if you want my gun,
he sent.
I think the boss would only buy you a drink, if you did. Unless he’s got his heart set on doing it himself...

Balidor silently agreed.

He couldn’t help finding it amusing that the Adhipan and Seven infiltrators had taken to calling Revik ‘the boss’ in Mandarin, just like all of the ex-rebels. Allie, who was ultimately in charge, remained ‘The Bridge’ to both groups, but it wasn’t from a lack of respect. Really, she’d delegated most of the dissemination of commands to Revik, Wreg and Balidor himself, anyway, providing direction at the top levels almost solely. Most things got to Allie through Balidor, Dehgoies or Jon going the other direction, too.

More and more, access to her had to be limited.

That would only get worse, now that...

Ditrini broke out in a harsh, grating laugh.

The sound made Balidor flinch, just as it had the first time he heard it.

There was something deeply unsettling behind that laugh, and not only the flavor of triumph he could see in the Lao Hu infiltrator’s eyes.

"D'lanlente a guete..."
Ditrini said in accented Prexci, his deep voice harsh, almost jarring, even with the smoothing of the drugs. "Thank you for showing her to me, brother...is that a sight for sore eyes..." His lips lifted in a thin smile that Balidor now knew, too. It appeared on the infiltrator’s face whenever the Bridge’s name came up. "When is he coming, anyway? The Illustrious Sword?"

His laughter devolved into a huskier chuckle.

"...Truthfully, I had thought I would see him next. Probably with a crowbar and a blowtorch. I was expecting quite a few rounds between us, long before he let me anywhere near our precious girl..."

Balidor bit his tongue, fighting not to curse at the other seer for the endearment alone.

Even so, he couldn’t quite make himself stay silent that time.

“If you think that the Esteemed Bridge will ever step foot anywhere near that door,” he said coldly. “You are deeply, deeply deluded, my brother.”

“Yes,” Ditrini said. “I heard that, too. Interesting theory. Trauma. Fear...” Studying Balidor’s face, likely for a reaction to his revelation, Ditrini winked at him then, his mercury-colored eyes still sharp through the drugs. “...I don’t know why. My precious girl knows I’d do anything she asked. Anything at all...”

Suppressing the desire to move his chair a few feet further away from the other seer, Balidor only clenched his jaw a little. Most of what he felt was irritation that time.

Glancing at the mirrored window, he gave a short nod.

He’s more emotional today, sir,
Yumi volunteered through the open Barrier thread.
...He might be picking up on more than we’d like through the collar, but the drugs are definitely having an effect. It looks like most of his resistance is on the surface, so nothing close to the training the boss received from Menlim. He’s likely to react more than his surface appearance might suggest, too, if you were to goad him into a response...

Focusing back on the task at hand, Balidor sent a silent affirmative.

Record everything,
he sent to Tenzi and Anale.
...Every second. I want the others to look this over when I'm done. Including the Sword. And Tarsi, when she gets back...

Tenzi sent a reassuring pulse.
We're recording,
he confirmed.
Don’t let him rattle you, sir. We’ve already seen that he’s spooky good at guessing and letting us fill in the gaps. He might have felt the barest flavor of the Bridge, through that Lao Hu connection, and just extrapolated to get a reaction...he’s done it before...
Tenzi added.

Balidor nodded perceptibly.
Of course,
he murmured.

Didn’t mean to presume, sir...
Tenzi began, more hesitant that time.

No, no,
Balidor said at once.
I very much appreciate the reminder, brother. Thank you.

When Balidor refocused on Ditrini that time, the Lao Hu infiltrator was staring at his body with those dead, silver eyes. Before Balidor could speak, he felt a hard coil of pain leave the other seer’s light, invasive yet somehow cold. Ditrini shifted in his seat, spreading his legs enough that he clearly wanted Balidor to look down.

He didn't.

“You fucked her, too,” Ditrini observed. “She told me.”

Balidor folded his arms, without changing expression.

“She told me you were a narcissist,” Balidor said, although it had been Wreg who told him that, too. “She also said that you would likely bore me to death, talking about yourself. She said you rarely talked about anything else.”

Ditrini only smirked, his thin lips lifting a little as he inclined his head.

“Love and hate...it’s such a thin line...” he murmured.

Balidor’s eyes focused briefly where the other seer’s wrists and ankles had been bolted to a much heavier chair than the one they'd used with Surli. Also unlike Surli, they hadn't left any part of Ditrini’s body free to move more than a few centimeters in any one direction, not even his hips. His ankles, knees, elbows, upper arms, shoulders, chest, abdomen, hips and throat had all been secured with different types of locks and cuffs, each dead-metal, each with connected but separate links housing organics tied to the room's defense mechanisms, including and especially the gas. It didn’t much matter if the collar didn't hold, when it came down to it. Ditrini wasn't going anywhere.

Other books

Conjure by Lea Nolan
The Fire In My Eyes by Christopher Nelson
Rules of Engagement by Bruce, Ann
The Devil in Montmartre by Gary Inbinder
The Testament by Elie Wiesel
Apollo: The Race to the Moon by Murray, Charles, Cox, Catherine Bly
The Exception by Adriana Locke
Texas Tall by Janet Dailey
Death Rounds by Peter Clement
Mykonos After Midnight by Jeffrey Siger