"Still," Sigrid said, and she rose on her toes to plant a gentle kiss on the warrior's cheek, "I am in your debt. You have my thanks. Whether you require it or not."
~ - ~
"I think you made the old warrior blush," Suko said once the colonel was out of earshot.
"I think you may be right. Here. Give me a hand."
With Suko's aid, Sigrid dressed, taking care to properly arm herself for what felt the first time in a long while. She wouldn't be caught unawares again, especially where tanks were concerned. The twin wrist-mounted TOG (tube-launched, optically-tracked and guided) micro-missiles would make certain of that. They were heavy, but she felt better for them. A pair of
balisongs
along with her
ōdachi
longsword rounded off her complement of blade weapons. And of course, the twin Markov 18 mm hand-cannons sat in their clips at her hips.
Before departing the medical tent, a team of doctors did their best to remove Victoria's six-centimeter probe that was still lodged inside her head. But the physicians were at a loss. Sigrid's technology was simply beyond their capabilities, and with the access port fused shut, there was little they could do for fear of damaging her further. Besides, it didn't appear to be impeding her. If there
was
a pain in her head, it wasn't the fault of Victoria's probe. It was Harry Jones.
With the colonel's satchel in one hand and Suko holding her other, Sigrid stepped from the tent back out onto the crowded street. And just in time to hear the distinct rumblings of a large transport hauler thundering toward them. Dozens of people were forced to make way as the two big rigs approached them.
It was Jaffer, with Victoria and her cargo trailer in tow not far behind. It was with a deep sigh of relief that she saw all the refugees had made the trip intact. Dropping the satchel at her side, Sigrid half-ran, half-limped toward them, eager to greet them. Nuria saw her first and leapt from the back of the flatbed. Nuria ran toward her, ready to throw her arms around her, but when she saw Suko, she thought better of it, choosing to shake Sigrid's hand in greeting instead.
"Lady Sigrid."
"Nuria."
One by one, the refugees hopped off the cargo carrier. By now they'd heard of the attack, but it was something entirely different to see it for themselves. Sigrid saw the looks on their faces, their wide eyes. She had promised them safe haven, but was that even possible? Hadn't she just delivered them from one battlefield to another?
While she was busy worrying about them, it was they who came to calm her. One by one, they came to thank her, shaking her hand, for they were free, and while the Crossroads might be a war zone—for the indentured working poor—this was just another day on planet Earth.
"You'll take care of them," Sigrid said to Nuria. "See that they're all fed and sheltered."
"Of course. I'll see to it straight away."
Powering down the rusted heap of a truck, Victoria popped the hatch and hopped down beside them.
"Is there breakfast? I'm famished."
"Read my mind," Jaffer said, coming to join them. Then he glanced around at the wrecked buildings and smashed machines of war. "Though I'm not sure what's still open."
"I'm afraid there isn't time," Sigrid said. "I need all of you prepped and ready to get underway. That means you too, Jaffer. The Crow's Nest is fifteen hundred kilometers from here. I believe that gives us just enough time."
"Time?" Victoria asked.
"Time to get to Portillo. We have to be there by tonight."
"We can make it," Jaffer said, mulling over the distance. "If the weather holds, and
if
the roads are clear. The rains are pretty harsh this time of year."
"Good. It's 10:42 right now. I want to be rolling by 11:00."
"And you're still sure about this?" Suko said. "That Jones will actually be there?"
Sigrid frowned. "I'm not sure about anything. But my
informant
was very specific. At least his patron was. Harry Jones will be in Portillo tonight."
"Then so will we," Jaffer said. "Don't worry, Sigrid. We'll make it."
As the others rushed to tend to their duties, Suko leaned over to her; her lips brushed her ear as she whispered to her, "Your informant was wrong about one thing, you know."
Sigrid turned to her sharply. "Suko, I—?"
"Harry Jones won't just
be
in Portillo. He's going to
die
there. He'll die, because I'm going to kill him."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Road
"Very nice," Suko said as she inspected Jaffer's cargo transport.
They were back in the paddock, going over the final preparations for the journey. Suko, with Jaffer at her side, made a circle of the newly modified transport. She was taking stock of the defensive measures and modifications the Consortium mechanics had retrofitted, and from what Sigrid saw, Suko looked suitably impressed. She let her hand run along the newly attached armored plating. She even paused to kick the tall, studded tires.
"And they did all this in a day?" Suko asked. "Impressive."
Untethered from its usual train of fourteen intermodal cargo carriers and jacked up on its heavily-modified suspension, the massive rig looked unusually sprightly, like a rocket ready to explode from its launching cradle. When Victoria hit the ignition, it shook and rumbled visibly as it sat idling, as if it were as eager as she was for them to climb aboard and get underway.
Sigrid approached them. She was carrying three heavy equipment satchels—one looped over her shoulders, another in each hand—Sigrid tossed the first one up to Victoria in the cab. She was about to throw up the second when Suko came to stand by her side.
"What's this? Presents?" Suko unzipped one of the satchels. "And what new
toys
have you brought for us to play with?"
"Oh, things that go
boom
, mostly," Sigrid said, flashing her a wink.
"I thought the whole point of this operation was to keep things quiet. You know, get in, get out, unseen, unheard. Silent as a whisper, and all that stuff." She picked a claymore out of the pile and promptly began fiddling with the arming switches, watching as the lights flashed green and yellow. "Don't you think all this stuff looks a little…well, loud?"
Sigrid snatched the claymore from her fingers, stuffing it back into the satchel. "Silence
is
the plan. But you know what Rosa used to say. All the planning and strategizing in the world flies out the window once the first shot is fired."
"Felix Rosa said that? Our instructor? Tall guy, permanent five o'clock shadow?"
"Yes." Sigrid took the grenade from Suko's hands that she was playing with now.
"I don't remember Felix ever saying that."
"Well, he did. That's why we're taking all of this. The colonel says there are over three thousand troops guarding the Crow's Nest. If things do go south, I want to make sure we're prepared. And
please
put those down! Oh, for goodness' sake!" She had to tug the breaching charge free of her fingers and hold it behind her back—which was all fine and good with Suko, who delighted in wrapping her arms around her to try to snatch it back. "You'll only hurt yourself. Or worse, me!"
"I think I did," Suko said. "Look, I broke a nail."
"Looks like the colonel could spare quite a bit," Victoria said, stowing the bags. "There's enough C47 in here to blow up Santiago."
"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."
"Any chance he's got an extra one of those longswords?" Suko said with a nod to the
ōdachi
harnessed to Sigrid's back. "I haven't had a decent blade since… Well, you know. Not since Bellatrix."
Suko was talking about the antique
katana
she'd given her, of course. The blade had been her first real gift to Suko as young lovers. And while it might seem a girlish or overly sentimental gift—a
katana
of all things, and one that didn't even vibrate or electrify—it still bothered Sigrid that she had lost it on Bellatrix. Just one more reason to want to kill Harry Jones.
But then Sigrid had a thought.
"You know, come to think of it, I
might
actually have something for you. Ah! I thought so."
Rummaging around in the third satchel, Sigrid withdrew one of the many blades stashed inside. She held it up triumphantly, though her initial enthusiasm quickly waned. While it may have been technically a
katana
, this blade was disappointingly ordinary. It was sheathed in a simple
shirasaya
of unpolished magnolia wood, rather than a more traditional lacquered
koshirae.
It bore neither the markings of its maker nor the proud scars of combat. Unlike Sigrid's last gift, this sword appeared quite unspectacular, and her smile quickly twisted into a frown.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm afraid it's rather plain. Wait. I'm sure I can find you something better. Here, let me have that back." Sigrid tried to pry the blade back from Suko's hands, but the girl held fast to it.
"Really," Sigrid said. "It's quite horrible. Give it here. When we get back, I promise I'll have a… Suko… Suko, are you…are you
crying?
"
"No?" She half-turned away from Sigrid, cradling the scabbard to her breast. But it was too late. Sigrid saw the moisture pool in her eyes and the single tear escape to run down her cheek. Suko rubbed at it with the back of her hand. "I'm not."
"Oh, now I've done it. I'll get you a nicer one the first chance I get. I promise. I'm sure I saw a sword merchant in town, though I'm not sure how well her shop fared during the raid. Here, let me take that awful thing back."
"No. I want this one."
"You…you do?"
Suko nodded and gave a moist sniff. And then Sigrid understood. The sword might be plain. It might have just come from a factory where ten thousand other swords came off the same assembly line, looking exactly the same as the last. But this
katana
had one thing the other factory-made blades never would: Sigrid had given it to her.
Gathering Suko into her arms, with the sword crushed between them, Sigrid wiped another stray tear away with her thumb. "My Suko. Just when I thought I had you figured out."
"A bug flew in my eye."
"Of course," she said, and she kissed her. "I never suspected otherwise. Now, take your sword and get that wonderful ass of yours aboard. We're running late."
"Speaking of running," Victoria said, glancing past Sigrid's shoulder. "What do we have here?"
Sigrid turned in time to see Nuria. She was hustling to catch them before they departed. Gone were her stolen Merchantmen clothes. In their place she wore the simple one-piece uniform of the Consortium. It was much like the colonel's, though it lacked any insignia. She was also carrying what appeared to be two garment bags along with a suspicious-looking black box.
Out of breath, the young girl came to a skidding stop before them. "Thank goodness. I was worried you'd left."
"We were just about to," Sigrid said, and her focus returned to the black box in the girl's hand. "Nuria, that isn't a…?"
"My makeup kit." Nuria held it up. "I noticed you didn't have one of your own."
Despite Suko's snickering, Sigrid did her best to keep a serious face. "You brought me makeup? Nuria, you
do
realize where we're going? And why?"
"Of course," Nuria said. "That's why I brought this."
Nuria opened the box to reveal its contents. It was a jumbled mess, brimming with a colorful selection of lipsticks, blushes, mascara brushes and a particularly strange device which, after scanning it, Sigrid realized was for curling her lashes of all things.
"And these are from the magistrate," Nuria said, sifting through the contents.
Piled on top of the mess, Sigrid spied an even more impressive collection of jewelry. Jeweled necklaces. Jade earrings. Rings of gold and silver. Bracelets. A diamond nose stud.
"Actually, that goes down there," Nuria said, pointing to her belly button.
"Really?" Sigrid said, and Nuria nodded.
"Does it explode?" Suko asked.
Nuria looked up at her, blinking. Perhaps not sure if Suko were serious or teasing, she simply moved her head, half-nodding, half-shaking it in reply.
"And of course, your evening wear." Nuria unzipped one of the garment bags to reveal a selection of stunning black evening dresses and shoes along with an even more impressive selection of underclothes. "Your report said the courier warned you to dress formal. Did he not?"
Still distracted by the lacy undershorts and stockings, Sigrid looked back up. "Yes—I mean, of course. I'd forgotten. Thank you, Nuria. I'll take those bags."
Sigrid reached to take the garment bags, but Nuria held onto them firmly. "It's quite all right. I'll see these items safely aboard and stowed."
Nuria moved past her, reaching for the ladder to the cab. Sigrid blinked after her.
"Nuria, you're-you're not planning on coming with us, are you?"
"The magistrate told me I was to prepare you for this evening's activities. You'll need help dressing."
"And her hair could use some work," Victoria said helpfully. "What? It's true. You can't expect to infiltrate a corporate retreat with those tangles."
Sigrid glared up at her, then turned back to Nuria. "You're not coming. Absolutely not. It's too dangerous."
"But, Lady Sigrid—"
"As much as I hate to admit it," Suko said, intervening, "we could use her help. I mean, what exactly do any of us know about accessorizing? It wasn't exactly covered in our training. And don't forget the last time you tried putting on makeup."
"Actually," a new voice said, approaching, "it was my idea she should come."
Sigrid turned to See Colonel Bhandari approaching. He was out of uniform, dressed in riding leathers, all black, with tall leather boots and a knee-length coat. Seeing him out of uniform, without his stiff dress-grays of the Consortium, he appeared far younger than she'd realized. But it wasn't his change of attire that most surprised her. It was the fact that he was gliding toward her atop the longspur she'd stolen from Bins. And he wasn't alone. Two others rode with him, a man and a woman, both of them on longspurs of their own.