Revolution (Replica) (26 page)

“Hide the body,” he ordered his men. “Don’t leave any traces. We don’t know if he’s the only one.”

There was a line of vending machines against one of the walls, and Shrimp carried Agnes to the far side of those machines, gently putting her down with her back against the wall—where the machines would block her view of the enforcers picking up the body and cleaning up the blood.

“Are you getting a signal yet?” Nadia asked Nate, who was holding one of the phones in his hand. There was one more flight of stairs between them and what Nadia presumed was the street level, but it would be better if they could make the call where there was no chance of someone on the street hearing voices in a closed subway station.

“Yeah,” Nate said, then blew out a bracing breath. “I guess it’s time.” He crouched in front of Agnes, who was nestled against Shrimp’s side, her eyes half-closed. “Agnes?” he asked in an overly gentle tone.

“Lionheart,” Shrimp corrected, and that made Agnes smile and open her eyes.

Agnes’s eyes looked disturbingly glassy, and there was a sheen of sweat on her skin although it wasn’t hot in the station. Nadia crouched on Agnes’s other side and touched the girl’s forehead, not surprised to find that she was burning with fever.

Agnes licked her lips and tried to sit up straighter, lifting her hand and gesturing feebly. “Phone,” she said, and Nate handed over the one that had the most charge.

Shrimp frowned at the phone and called out to one of his men. “Bring us the guard’s phone,” he commanded, and Nadia wanted to smack herself on the forehead for not thinking of it first. She doubted any of the dying phones in their collection would last more than a couple of minutes, and it was going to take more than that to convey their message to Chairman Belinski.

Agnes took a shuddering breath, then laid the back of her head against the tile wall. “We’ll have to use video to prove it’s me,” she said, reaching out to pat Shrimp’s leg. “You shouldn’t be in the picture.”

Agnes closed her eyes, so she didn’t see the way Shrimp recoiled at her words. Nadia suspected he’d allowed himself to forget that she was an Executive, and though Chairman Belinski would no doubt be grateful to Shrimp for taking such good care of his daughter, he would probably have a stroke at the thought that she was cozying up to a Basement-dweller.

“If you think that’s best,” Shrimp said stiffly, but though he was obviously hurt, Nadia noticed how gently he extracted his arm from behind Agnes and moved away, careful not to jar her head or let her slump over. In some ways, he was more of a gentleman than many of the Executive men Nadia had met, and he was certainly a better person at heart. However, even though she had never met Chairman Belinski, Nadia doubted he’d be able to see beyond Shrimp’s status and upbringing, doubted he would even think to try.

When Agnes had the dead security officer’s phone in her hands, Nate and Nadia sat on each side of her, huddling close both so that they could all be in the picture and also so that they could keep her upright.

Moving slowly and with exaggerated care because of her dizziness, Agnes pecked out a number on the phone.

“Calling Dad’s bodyguard,” she said. “Less likely Thea will be paying attention to his phone.”

Nadia met Nate’s eyes, and they shook their heads simultaneously. Agnes was sick and suffering from a head wound, and she still had the presence of mind to realize her call with her father might be intercepted. Neither of them had even considered the possibility, too focused on the seemingly impossible task of making the phone call in the first place. They were all lucky Agnes was with them, though Nadia doubted Agnes felt quite so lucky herself.

Agnes held the phone away from herself so that they could all see its screen—and so that they could all appear in its picture. At Shrimp’s command, the Red Death shone their flashlights on them to make an impromptu spotlight. The brightness made Agnes wince in pain, but she didn’t protest.

A man answered the phone after three rings, not bothering with video though the phone would have indicated video was being used.

“Who is this?” the man barked in a sleep-roughened voice. Nadia had almost forgotten what time it was and that most of respectable society would be asleep at this hour.

“Marco,” Agnes said, her voice sounding worse than the bodyguard’s. “It’s me, Agnes. I need to talk to Daddy right now. Hurry!”

“Agnes?” Marco said, suddenly sounding much more awake—and very suspicious. He turned on the video feed and Nadia saw a square-jawed bruiser with a military buzz cut and sharply intelligent eyes. Eyes that widened almost comically when he took in the image his phone was presenting.

Nadia hated to think about what the three of them looked like, dressed in ill-fitting castoffs with dirt ground into their skin and hair and clothes. Nate’s face was getting bristly with stubble, his filthy hair hanging in his eyes. Nadia’s face bore a bloody scratch from the debris that had struck her last night, and her blond hair formed greasy, dirt-grayed locks around her face. And poor Agnes, missing a big swath of hair where someone had inexpertly stitched her skin closed with black thread. The flashlights illuminated the wound in their relentless glare, and Nadia saw how its edges were puffy and red.

“Please, Marco,” Agnes said. “Get Daddy.”

“Where are you?” Marco demanded, but Nadia could tell by the unsteadiness of the picture and the way his attention was divided that he was on the move.

Agnes’s eyes glazed over then closed, her body listing sideways as her head landed on Nate’s shoulder. Nadia grabbed the phone from her limp hand before it clattered to the floor.

“Agnes!” Marco cried in alarm, the picture on his end stabilizing as he came to a stop.

“Keep moving and get her father!” Nate snapped at the man. “She goes in and out. We’ll wake her when she needs to talk.”

Despite current circumstances, Nate had lived most of his life as the Chairman Heir and was used to being obeyed. The command in his voice was enough to get Marco moving again, and moments later, he was pounding on a door and yelling “Mr. Chairman!” over and over again.

Nadia had never personally met Chairman Belinski, but as a dutiful Executive, she knew the names and faces of all the top Executives throughout the Corporate States, so she recognized him when he took the phone from Marco’s hand. He had obviously been roused from sleep, his gray hair disheveled, his face peppered with stubble, but there was no hint of sleep in his furious gaze or his sharp voice.

“What have you done to my daughter?” he demanded, dismissing Nadia with one quick glance and then glaring at Nate, the man who had supposedly kidnapped Agnes.

“She was injured when Dorothy bombed the Basement last night,” Nate replied, his voice calm and steady. “I swear to you I did not kidnap her. There’s a lot going on you don’t know about, but Agnes needs medical attention immediately. I think her wound’s infected.”

In the background, Nadia could hear yelling and slamming doors. Marco was obviously rousing the household.

“Please be careful, Mr. Chairman,” she warned. “Dorothy has eyes and ears everywhere, and none of us will survive for long if she finds out where we are.”

Chairman Belinski frowned at her. “And who are you?”

No doubt he would recognize her if she were dressed in her Executive best and cleaned up. “I’m Nadia Lake. Dorothy wants all three of us dead because we know too much. It’s absolutely critical that she not know we’ve gotten out of the Basement.”

“Where are you?”

Agnes roused at that moment, and Nadia wondered how long she’d been conscious. “Don’t answer yet,” she murmured, and her father looked horrified.

“Agnes?”

She raised her head, the movement painfully slow. “Should be the last thing we say, when you’re ready to come get us. In case she’s listening. Tell your men to stay off the phones.”

Belinski looked doubtful, but he shouted a few orders over his shoulder anyway. The sounds of activity were louder now as the Belinski household prepared for what was at this moment at least a very nebulous rescue mission.

Agnes let out a soft sigh. “Too tired to explain,” she said, and sagged again.

Belinski’s face was etched in grim, worried lines. “Agnes? Sweetheart?”

Agnes was out, and neither Nate nor Nadia had the heart to try to revive her.

“Let her rest,” Nate said. “We can answer whatever questions you have, and she can confirm what we’re saying later. But seriously, she needs a doctor as fast as possible. And we need to get out of here without Dorothy knowing about it.”

Which could pose something of a problem if Chairman Belinski sent his security team in force to come pick them up. It was probably quiet on the streets above at this time of night, but
probably
wasn’t good enough. If anyone saw them and took enough notice to remark on it, there was a chance Dorothy would hear about it.

Belinski thought about it a moment. “If I send a car, can you get to it without being seen?”

“It depends on whether there are people out on the street or not,” Nate replied. It was not the hour of night when you’d expect to find a lot of people on the street, but they
were
in Manhattan, and it was unlikely the streets would be completely deserted. “And we’d probably be caught on a surveillance camera somewhere.”

“As would the car you sent for us,” Nadia said. “I suspect it would stand out in this neighborhood—and that Dorothy has you under surveillance in case Agnes reached out to you.”

Belinski waved off her concern. “I’m well aware that I’m being watched. My security team can get around the surveillance if necessary. The car will be inconspicuous, and my men will disable any cameras in the area.”

Nadia had been so fixated on the phone that she hadn’t noticed Shrimp standing nearby, leaning on one of the vending machines and listening to the conversation. Until he spoke.

“That’ll be suspicious all by itself,” he said. “We already knocked out a bunch of cameras in here. Eventually, someone’s gonna notice and wonder what’s up.”

“Who’s with you?” Belinski asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Some friends of ours from the Basement,” Nate answered. “We wouldn’t have made it this far without them.”

“We hafta give security a good explanation for what happened to the cameras,” Shrimp continued. “And it can’t be something that makes ’em suspect our Execs are involved. It’s gotta look like a bunch of angry Basement-dwellers making trouble instead of an escape.”

“What did you have in mind?” Nate asked.

“Me and my boys go out ahead of you. Shoot out the cameras, break glass, make a lotta noise. Any innocent bystanders will run away, and no one’ll pay attention to the rest of you calmly and quietly sneaking away. We’ll make sure to keep all eyes on us.”

Nadia swallowed hard. “They’ll arrest you—if you’re lucky.”

He nodded. “Our life expectancy ain’t so hot anyway, not if you don’t stop Dorothy.”

“Bring my daughter to me,” Belinski said, “and I’ll do what I can to help your friends.”

Belinski was a powerful man, with a powerful military at his fingertips; however, he was deep in enemy territory, whether he knew it or not, and there was no way he’d be able to help the Red Death—especially not if Dorothy’s orders to her security forces were to shoot them on sight. The chances were high that anyone who participated in creating the diversion was going to die, either immediately, or later in custody.

There was a long silence as they all looked at one another, but Nadia soon found that both Shrimp and Nate were looking at her expectantly. Waiting for
her
to make the final decision. How did it become her responsibility to decide the fate of all these people? She was in the presence of the leader of the Red Death and the rightful Chairman of Paxco, and yet it was her they both looked to.

Nate met her eyes gravely. “Sorry to put this on you, Honey Badger,” he said with a faint smile that quickly faded. “But this is our battle, not Shrimp’s, and we both know you make better decisions than I do.”

“It’s my battle, too,” Shrimp protested, “or I wouldn’t be volunteering. But it’s still y’all’s decision.”

Nadia looked up at the man who had kept them all safe from Maiden and had done so much to aid their efforts. Words couldn’t express how much she hated the idea of risking his life like this, but without the diversion, she didn’t like their chances of successfully meeting up with Chairman Belinski.

“You take only volunteers,” she told him. “I don’t want anyone forced into this.”

Shrimp grinned, showing his gold tooth. “Take a good look at me, Honey. Do I look like I can force these guys to do anything?”

She shrugged. “All right, let’s say
pressure
instead of
force.
”

“I picked these guys to come with us for a reason. I won’t need to pressure ’em. Dorothy’s killing our people; we’ll do whatever we have to, to stop her.”

Nadia’s throat felt tight and her eyes burned with suppressed tears. She was almost glad Agnes was unconscious and didn’t have to know what Shrimp was planning to do.

“Sounds to me like you’ve already decided,” Chairman Belinski said. Somehow he managed to look both sympathetic and impatient at the same time. “Tell me where you are. My team is ready to come get you.”

“We’re at the 125th Street subway station,” Nadia responded.

Belinski spoke to someone over his shoulder, then nodded and turned back to the phone. “The car will be there in fifteen minutes. They’ll text this number when it’s time to start the diversion.”

Nadia was afraid she’d start crying if she spoke, so she merely nodded.

“Take good care of Agnes,” Belinski continued. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “She means the world to me.”

Nadia nodded again, and Belinski hung up.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Fifteen
minutes wasn’t a whole lot of time to plan much of anything, but Nate was perfectly happy to accept the limitation. The longer they hung around this station, the closer it came to the time for the place to open, the more danger they were all in. And Agnes had not regained consciousness since the talk with her father, not even when Nate had tried to rouse her. At least she was breathing, but the faster she got medical attention, the better.