Zhukov's Dogs (11 page)

The draw ended as quickly as it started. Val lunged, grabbing the girl’s wrist, and forcing her aim toward the ground. Judging from the way his other hand white-knuckled the edge of the table, Val was just as alarmed by the sudden turn of events as I was.

“Put it away,” he barked. “Both of you.”

Slowly, I lowered my gun. There was no way I was going to put it away before the girl who drew first, though.

Val sighed and shook his head at the girl. “Christ, Lee, this is the guy I told you about, Cook’s friend.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes softening and cheeks flushing.

“Sorry about that, Nik,” Val said as he released the girl’s wrist and introduced us. “This is Lee. She’s kind of trigger-happy.”

“Couldn’t tell,” I grumbled. Lee set her gun on the table and took half a step back from it. A peaceful gesture. I stepped up along the table, blind to its contents until the moment I set my gun on the surface. What I saw confirmed my worst suspicions.

The revolutionaries were organized.

A massive map of the underground was laid out, every street and shop labeled. Large, red x’s were spread out all over the map; numbers and dates I didn’t understand jotted along their edges. Four overturned shot glasses were placed around the map with a different letter written on the bottom of each. It wasn’t the most extensive war board I’d ever seen, but it was definitely more than what I’d expected.

“Impressive,” I said with a whistle. I tried to decipher and memorize as much of it as I could. Streets already looked familiar. I saw the train station, the canal, and the monorail marked on the map, and I followed Second Avenue all the way to where a shot glass was placed over the base we were in.

“These are different bases?” I asked, tapping the bottom of the shot glass closest to me.

Val nodded, and Lee pointed to the one I’d tapped. “That’s the one I’m running,” she said as she bounced on the balls of her feet, the long necklaces she wore jingling together loudly.

“Only until Jayne gets back,” Val corrected. Judging from the curtness in his tone, Val didn’t enjoy the company of the substitute.

“He up topside on that mission?” I asked. Val and Lee both jerked their heads up to look at me suspiciously until I told them, “Tibbs mentioned it.”

“Yeah, he’s up there,” Lee said with a sidelong glance at Val. I could see her biting the inside of her cheek and wondered what she was resisting the urge to say.

Before she could bring it up, Val reached under the table and pulled out the small brown box they’d taken during the heist at the bridge. The string was cut and the top open, a glint of blue and gold peeking out between the wrapping papers inside.

“So, what is it?” I asked, leaning over the table to get a better look.

“This is a Fabergé egg, one of the last remaining originals crafted by the House of Fabergé in 1887,” Val said. He didn’t need to explain them—there was one sitting above the fireplace in my father’s study—but I listened anyway. The egg was a beautiful sapphire blue with a golden crown accent and silver laurels. A band of Roman numerals wrapped around the center, and it looked like they might have once moved to indicate the time.

“It’s called Blue Serpent Clock. It was retrieved from a palace in Monaco earlier this year and auctioned off. Governor Granne spent a small fortune in taxpayer dollars on this thing. We intercepted the ambassador delivering it on the bridge earlier today.”

“Planning to hold it as ransom?” I assumed.

“No. We’re going to give it to him, just in the million or so pieces he spent on it,” Val said. He shut the lid on the box and stood up. Holding the box in one hand, Val turned and lobbed it right into the wall. Everything inside my body pulled taught with utter mortification. A piece of history, almost two-hundred years old, had just been thrown across the room like a baseball. My father would have skinned Val alive had he been in the room.

Val walked over to pick it back up, the subtle sound of shattered glass clinking inside the box making him smile. He returned to the table and set the box down between us as he said, “I want you to take this to the governor’s mansion. I want you to break into his study and leave it on the desk right next to his morning paper. Let’s call it your initiation test, Nik.”

The governor was the one who wanted me to come to Seattle in the first place. He wouldn’t be happy to know what happened to his expensive Fabergé egg, but at least I could assure him I was on the right track. Maybe I’d even be able to enjoy a hot shower or a nice meal before returning to the revolutionaries.

“Consider it done,” I said.

“And I’ll be coming with you,” Val added as soon as I agreed. It looked like I wouldn’t get that shower after all.

Governor Granne’s Estate—Seattle, WA
Wednesday, November 11th, 2076—12:09 a.m.

overnor Granne’s home was back across the bridge and a way north of the station. It was straight across the water from the hydroelectric power plant Tibbs had mentioned, situated low on the bank and noisily drawing from the canal. The three-story mansion was much easier on the eyes than the power plant. The light from the factories across the water lit the lawn up in a putrid gold which made the entire plot of land look contaminated.

With two suits standing guard at the front gate, Val and I made our way along the bank of the canal until we were behind the house. I was surprised when Val scaled the tall, black fence every bit as easily as I did. The bullet graze from earlier didn’t seem to be bothering him at all. We landed on the other side of the fence and hurried for cover behind a tool shed.

“What are you waiting for?” Val asked as I peered around the corner of the shed.

“Looking for suits. It’s called being careful,” I said. Val huffed and tapped his fingers against the shed with blatant impatience. I ignored his wordless complaints and instead focused on scanning the area. There was a winding, stone walkway leading from the garden to the back porch. A screen door, the door behind it wide open, provided a clear view into the kitchen. With no suits in sight, it looked like this mission would be simple.

“That’s how we’ll get in,” I told Val with a nod toward the door.

“After you, then.”

Keeping our heads down, we hurried across the lawn and onto the porch. Through the screen door, I heard a woman humming somewhere inside the kitchen. We pressed our backs against the side of the house to avoid being seen. I stole a quick look through the screen. No sign of the woman, but there was an open door which looked like it led to a pantry.

The floor plans of the Granne mansion we’d studied in the war room indicated the study was on the second floor in the east wing. The stairs were located in the parlor, through the kitchen, the dining room, and then to the left.

Our first step was to locate and sneak past the woman in the kitchen. I reached up and turned the latch, opening the door just slightly and gesturing for Val to go through first. I shut it silently behind us, and we crept into the kitchen.

The humming grew louder the closer we got to the pantry door. I looked at the windows across from us, their reflection showing a heavyset woman on her knees as she sorted through the shelves. With her back toward us, it wouldn’t be difficult to get by her. Val and I had just made it past the open door when we heard the sound of bare feet clopping through the dining room. Someone was coming.

My body went rigid, one hand shooting out to keep Val from going any further. He muttered under his breath all the curses running through my mind. We needed to hide. Fast.

I looked over my shoulder at the screen door, too far away to make a quick escape. Then I spotted the cupboards beneath the counters along the wall behind us. I seized Val’s arm with one hand and opened the cupboard door behind us with the other. He resisted as I ducked inside and tried yanking him in after me.

“What are you—?”

I didn’t get the rest out because, all at once, Val’s resistance faded. He fell into the cupboard after me, landing heavy between my legs with a knee knocking square into the worst place possible. I slammed my head against the wall behind me as the shock ripped through my entire body. The nauseating pain in my stomach was hard to ignore. My ears rang, and I barely managed to stifle the roar tearing up my throat into a low rumble.

“Sorry,” Val whispered as he hastily scooted off. Our hiding spot was so small, though; every movement bumped the cupboard door open. Despite the cracks of light and danger of getting caught, Val tried to find a position in which he wasn’t half on top of me.

My patience was too thin, and my balls too sore, to put up with Val’s shifting. I threw my arms around his shoulders and hauled him into my lap. With his back firm against my chest, his body tensed to struggle. I tightened my grip even more and growled near his ear, “Hold still.”

Val went still as a statue—a statue whose bony ass was digging into my thigh. He mumbled an apology under his breath, like it would somehow make me less angry than I already was. He hung his head forward while I leaned mine against the cupboard wall and listened to the footsteps coming closer. They stopped in front of the pantry doorway next to us.

“My sweet woman, what are you doing on your knees?” came a jovial male voice. From his voice alone, I could tell the man was in the latter half of middle age. It carried a hint of authority, too. The governor?

Val looked over his shoulder at me. He seemed to read the question crossing my mind because he nodded to confirm it. His heart rate escalated, resonating against my chest harder and faster every second. Apparently, the haughty leader of the revolutionaries was feeling the pressure.

“The wretched kitchen staff is still on strike,” the woman replied. “Nobody has sorted out what’s expired this month, and our poor boy ate stale cereal this morning. I swear, have you ever seen so much mold in your life?”

“Leave it alone, dear. I’ll find someone to take care of this mess tomorrow. I will not have my wife on her knees like a servant.”

“Oh, love,” she giggled, “You’re so kind.”

“Come, let’s retire.”

Two sets of feet scuffled past us as the governor and his wife left the kitchen. When the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, I let out a relieved sigh. “I guess kitchen staff isn’t going to be a problem after all. Should be easy to get upstairs from here.”

I hadn’t known him for long, but I expected some kind of patronizing response from Val. He remained perfectly silent, though, head hung and heart flying. “Claustrophobic?” I asked.

“I’m fine,” he snapped back at me. He scooted off my lap, out of the cupboard, and to his feet. I followed, mindful of the discomfort still stabbing at my stomach. Val looked at me with a frown. I waved off his apology before he could offer it.

“I’m fine,” I said, mimicking his tone as I adjusted myself. Val shot me an annoyed look but said nothing. There was definitely something off about him.

We made our way through the dining room into the parlor without any sign of suits or servants. Halfway up the stairs to the first landing, I heard a door open. Immediately, Val and I dropped to our knees. The governess laughed wildly as she and the governor scampered across the hall. Another door opened and shut just as quickly, the laughter shut out with it.