Cassandra Kresnov: Breakaway Part 9

More footsteps were running up. Vanessa's engine was fading down, and more aircars could be heard in approaching hover from around about.

"Get out of the way!" shouted a new woman's voice. The cop stood up. "SIB! You! Put the gun to one side now, and get up slowly." Sandy looked up. It was one of the two SIB women from back at the car wreck. On the surrounding frequencies, clamorous queries were calling for information. Someone nearby was hovering low. She hoped they didn't collide. Unless it was with those b.l.o.o.d.y SIBs.

"This man just blew up the riverside back in Derry," she said mildly. "Don't you think you'd be better off pointing your gun at him instead of at a registered CSA agent?"

"Shut up and put the gun to one side! NOW!" The woman was joined by her partner. Both pistols trained on her face. They looked very serious. And very scared, she thought. And the absurdity was no longer quite so amusing.

There was a heavy clacking sound from the other direction. Both SIB women looked up. Sandy glanced carefully about.

"You've got five seconds to stop pointing those guns at my partner," Vanessa said from the other end of a ma.s.sive SWAT-issue a.s.sault rifle, "or I'll blow you both into very small pieces."

At this range, Sandy's links had a clear sense of the weapon's powered armscomp, ranging ominously. Both women stared at the lean, dark muzzle. At the mean, beautiful face of its wielder. Two male cops stood by in utter silence, and offered no comment.

"We can't just a" one of them blurted, and stopped as Vanessa raised the rifle to her shoulder and sighted manually down the barrel.

"One," she said.

Double-click, both pistol safeties went on, both pairs of hands were raised, and both women placed their pistols carefully on the ground.

"Don't ever f.u.c.k with SWAT," Vanessa told them. Her voice was nearly trembling. Sandy had never seen her so furious. "Ever. You got that?"

Two nods, slow and careful.

Sandy got up, amid the standing, unmoving SIBs, the cops, and the very slight, very angry and ma.s.sively armed SWAT lieutenant. The air throbbed with hovering aircar engines, a ma.s.s of blinking running lights flared off the building sides and lit the dark river waters in a brilliant, multi-coloured display. She handed the stunned young man to the cops. Then scooped up both the SIBs' pistols. Lifted them casually to eye level, and broke the trigger mechanisms, one after another, with a hard compression of her thumb. Metal and plastics shrieked and popped, very loudly. Then Sandy handed them back to the two SIB agents, who took them with reluctant, trembling hands.

And she paused a moment longer, staring them curiously in the face. She saw the fear there. The pale faces, the dilated eyes. A shift to infrared showed blood pulsing very fast, hearts racing. She was between them and Vanessa's cannon. It wasn't Vanessa they were scared of. And she shook her head, with faint amazement.

"What d'you think I'm going to do?" she asked incredulously, over the whining racket of hovering air traffic echoing off the surrounding buildings and out over the water. "You think I'm going to hurt you?"

There was no reply. Just a couple of pale, staring faces, listening to her voice, but not hearing a thing. Sandy repressed a wince of disbelief.

"What's wrong with you people? Why do you just refuse to get it?"

"They'll never get it, Sandy," Vanessa said from behind, her voice hard. "Some people are just like that."

Sandy turned and looked at her, ignoring the two SIBs entirely. "Someone has to get it."

"I get it. That's enough."

Sandy gazed at her for a long moment. At the small, dark-haired lieutenant in the obligatory patchand-pocket-lined ops jacket, hair tossed in a gusting breeze, rifle now lowering along her forearm grip. Flaring light from many aircars lit her face from many angles. Her dark eyes were smouldering. And honest, beyond the anger. Watching her.

"Yeah," Sandy murmured, beneath the echoing whine of many hovering aircars, shouts, running footsteps and approaching sirens. "I suppose it is."

The guard on duty outside Senate Chamber 5-C looked nervous as Sandy and Vanessa arrived from down the long, echoing hallway. For a brief moment, Sandy thought he was going to ask for their weapons. Or her weapons, more likely. A long, flat stare convinced him otherwise, and he opened the doors instead.

A broad waiting room, polished wooden floor, grand paintings and furniture. Filled with waiting agents, politicos, advisors and civil set-vants, most deep in discussion or engrossed in ongoing dialogue with their portable terminals. All fell silent as the new pair entered. Footsteps soft on the broad carpet, then squeaking on the wood before the door. The door handle clacked, deafening in the sudden silence. And drowned, abruptly, by the harsh exchange of voices from the room beyond.

Senate Chamber 5-C was like the Senate Hearing Chamber in miniature. Seven senators were seated behind a long, wood-panelled bench. Before the senators, seats for the accused. Although, Sandy thought as the adjutant closed the doors behind them, they probably didn't call them that. Half of the argument stopped as they came in. The other half lingered, in forceful self absorption. Sandy walked the aisle through the small seating gallery and stood before the accuseds' benches. Vanessa joined her. The last argument died a surprised, fading death. Senators, officials and agents stared at them. Sandy stood at ease, and felt decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

"Agent Kresnov," she announced flatly, "reporting as ordered."

"Ms. Kresnov." The head senator blinked. Reorienting his brain, evidently, away from the recent argument. Several senators regained their seats. Most were staring. To Sandy and Vanessa's right, Ulu N'Darie, CSA second-in-command, was scowling furiously. Another woman, tall and blonde, folded her arms and looked stonily unpleasant. Izerovski, Sandy remembered, with less than glee. The head of SIB, in her natural, political environment. Oh Joy.

Then she spotted Naidu among the other agents scattered about and felt a little better.

"Ms. Kresnov," Izerovski said coldly, "where is your guard?" Sandy just looked at her. Waiting for that cryptic remark to be more fully explained. There was no hurry.

"I'm her guard," Vanessa said. And Sandy reconsidered the wisdom of letting Vanessa do the talking.

"You, Lieutenant Rice, are most certainly not a suitable guard. You are her partner. You have demonstrated yourself to be nearly the threat to peace and civil security tonight that she has. I have two good SIB agents in hospital, each with severe gunshot wounds to both legs, and the shooter is walking free about the corridors of power, fully armed by the look of her, and accompanied by her partner in crime. Senators, this is a disgraceful indication of the depths to which CSA policy regarding this particular individual have sunk-she is utterly out of control, and the CSA ..

"You grandstanding, twofaced f.u.c.king liar!" N'Darie exploded.

"a And the CSA," Izerovski continued loudly, "are so completely lost and desperate in their present messed-up situation that they've just given her the keys to the castle, and this is the result a"

"Who caught the d.a.m.n bomber, you lunatic?" N'Darie retorted. "SIB's only contribution is to open fire in a public s.p.a.ce upon the one person genuinely attempting to apprehend the suspect a "After she caused a major traffic accident in which three innocent civilians were needlessly injured, and refused to account for her activities when requested a "So she needs to report her every movement for SIB's approval, even when the d.a.m.n SIBs haven't a lucid clue what the h.e.l.l's going on?"

"That's exactly right, Ms. N'Darie. By order of this here panel of senators, she does need to report her every movement to the SIB, and I've now got two good agents in hospital who will gladly tell you why!"

"You don't get it, do you?" N'Darie stood barely taller than Vanessa, small, black and compact. At that moment, she seemed much larger, as if swelling with rage. "Your agents owe their lives to this woman!" Pointing at Sandy with a trembling finger. "Any CSA agent under an unprovoked attack is fully authorised to kill in self defence. She refrained-does your tiny, manicured brain comprehend that much? She shot to wound, when she was perfectly ent.i.tled to blow their f.u.c.king heads off, and that's far more restraint than I've seen from your people whose only provocation was that she didn't tell them what she was doing, which they by all indications wouldn't have understood anyway, because all you G.o.dd.a.m.n SIBs are just too f.u.c.king STUPID!"

The room exploded, a yelling racket above the repeated hammerings of the chairman's gavel.

"Bit of bad blood here?" Sandy suggested, formulating internally.

Vanessa raised an eyebrow, as little perturbed by the racket as Sandy. "No worse than one of my family reunions."

Sandy smiled. "Remind me never to meet your family."

"You never do, you're always surfing. "

Under repeated a.s.sault from the chairman's gavel, the noise began to recede. Another few whacks, and it died completely.

"Wish I was surfing now, actually," Sandy remarked.

"I wish you were surfing, too. "

"People!" The chairman's dark face was angrily disapproving. "Remember where you are!"

"They do," Vanessa muttered, "that's the d.a.m.n problem."

Sandy noticed an SIB agent's head turning in their direction, eyes curious, sensed a faint pulse of pa.s.sive frequency scan a "We're hawked, better keep the conversation verbal. You know the emergency freq. "

"Gotcha. " Vanessa disconnected.

"Ms. Kresnov," said another senator. Kier, his name panel read. Seated two chairs to her right, facing her-that side was Union, including the chairman. Except for the very end-he was Democrat, one of the minor Senate parties. Even worse. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I suppose that depends upon what I'm asked," Sandy said mildly. The woman alongside, Senator Zhu, was staring, greatly disconcerted. Well, Sandy supposed, this was most likely the first time any of these senators had seen her at this range. She wondered what Zhu found most disconcerting-her good looks, or her mere proximity.

"Why is she even armed?" the Democrats senator interrupted, as if reading her thoughts. Senator Rafael, Sandy read. Lean and darkly bearded, of uncertain ethnicity. He sounded alarmed. He looked alarmed, eyes wide and nervous lipped.

"I am a CSA agent, Senator," Sandy replied before Vanessa could muster some remark that might cost her a promotion.

"That, Ms. Kresnov, is a matter for serious debate," Senator Rafael retorted.

"This panel has no jurisdiction over internal CSA policy," N'Darie replied from the right, sounding somewhat more composed. "Agent Kresnov's present work is invaluable, and is recognised as such by all the relevant experts within the field a"

"At what cost, Ms. N'Darie?" erupted Rafael, with great agitation. "We have here a killer on the loose a Just look! Everywhere she goes, we have gunfire and explosions and people getting shot!"

"So stop shooting at her," Vanessa said coldly.

"Lieutenant Rice," Chairman Ra.s.so said loudly, "I must warn you a "Of what? This woman is my friend, dammit. You've ordered the SIB to line her up in their target sights, and if she twitches, you open fire. The SIB are so incompetent at basic weaponry that this order effectively makes them a menace to civil society, which makes all of you a menace to civil society. We have legal advice looking into it right now, we'll be making a formal securities submission under Article 23 of the recently activated Security Act 91, and judge Guderjaal will arrive at his recommendation in a day or two. At present, the odds look good that your present orders to the SIB are unconst.i.tutional and unsafe. Keep at it long enough, and you'll be in jail. Ms. Izerovski included."

Five people started shouting at once. Izerovski overrode them all, her voice carrying most clearly above the racket-"a have submitted our own recommendation with regards to Section Five Subsection A of Security Act 91, and have obtained a temporary suspension of duty upon this dangerous killer, taking her out of CSA active duty effective immediately, do you understand that, Lieutenant Rice?" Reaching for a paper upon a nearby senator's desk, and waving it before them.

Sandy looked at N'Darie, and saw dark frustration, but no surprise. So that was what they'd been arguing about earlier. Izerovski glared, with triumphant confidence.

"The suspension will continue for a period of one week, while the SIB continue our investigation into Ms. Kresnov and her place within the present CSA structure-and into the commands and instructions from her superiors that have placed her into this position of uncontrolled influence and roving power. This order has been signed by justice Guderjaal himself. Ms. Kresnov, I require you now to hand over your sidearm and your badge, immediately."

A pair of SIB agents approached.

"You can't do this," Vanessa said harshly, stepping forward. "She was appointed to CSA under Security Act 91. You can't just override a special powers emergency!"

"Section Five, Subsection A, Lieutenant-as was explained to Ms. Kresnov just earlier today, after she had recklessly disabled a government vehicle with a League military attack barrier. Her continued legal status as a Callayan citizen is conditional upon her continued non-threatening good behaviour. If sufficient evidence is compiled that this condition has indeed been broken by Ms. Kresnov, the clause allows for a suspensionof a period to be determined by justice Guderjaal himself-of that status, pending further investigation by the relevant authority, meaning the SIB. Such evidence is not now difficult to find."

The pair of SIB agents stood before Sandy. Both looked tense. The eyes of the man on the right flicked repeatedly in Vanessa's direction. Sandy ignored them both, studying the faces of the seven senators, watching from the safe, comforting distance of their bench. The varying expressions. The concern. The fear. A moment pa.s.sed.

"So nice to see I'm going to get a fair, impartial hearing," Sandy said into that silence. There was no reply. In her peripheral vision, she could see N'Darie standing silently, dark and brooding.

"Ms. Kresnov," said the agent before her, "your weapon please." Extending a hand, intrusively near.

"That's Agent Kresnov to you, d.i.c.khead," Vanessa snarled, "and you keep the h.e.l.l out of her face a"

"Ricey!" Sandy said sharply. Vanessa shut up, fuming. Sandy reached into her jacket and drew the pistol from her holster. Checked the safety, and handed it to the agent, grip first. The badge followed, in the dark leather binder. And Sandy was surprised to feel the regret so strongly as the SIB agent checked both gun and badge and tucked them away for safekeeping.

The SIBs drew away, back to Izerovski's side. Sandy stood where she was, at military ease, eyeing the Senate Panel with expressionless distaste. On the right, a senator named Hamata alone looked displeased and guarded. Progress Party on that side of the bench. The others a just watched her. Tense, as if awaiting the explosion. And satisfied at her disarming.

"Ms. Kresnov," said Chairman Ra.s.so carefully into the strained silence. Aware, perhaps, that senior CSA were present, and watching. Sandy could sense Naidu's eyes boring into the chairman's skull. His lips were pressed thin with disgust. N'Darie just fumed. "You will now inform this panel as to the precise events that led you to the riverfront at Lagosso this evening. Following that, you will inform this panel of precisely the events of earlier today when you launched your attack barrier a.s.sault upon the SIB cruiser."

"No," said Sandy. "I won't."

"I might remind you a" Izerovski began loudly, but Ra.s.so cut her off.

"Ms. Izerovski, please, this is a Senate matter." Izerovski swallowed her tongue with difficulty. Ra.s.so turned his flat African gaze back to Sandy. "Ms. Kresnov, I will remind you that you are, as of this moment, no longer technically a member of the CSA. Your benefits of Callayan citizenship are also under suspension. CSA internal operating codes can no longer protect you from this panel's questions, you are just another member of the public as far as this chamber is concerned. Now, you will answer the questions, or you will face legal consequences."

Sandy gazed at him.

"I have nothing to say to you. You are a security risk."

Ra.s.so stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"Senator, whether I'm in the CSA or not, I remain a CSA resource. I have an enormous quant.i.ty of cla.s.sified knowledge. I think you'll find that the CSA charter has precedence here."

"Ms. Kresnov a"

"You're neither required nor permitted by the laws of the CSA charter to say anything to these clowns, Ca.s.sandra," N'Darie said calmly. She looked even a little pleased, in a furious, glowering sort of way. "I'm glad to see you've done your reading."

"Yessir." Calm and military. Whatever the discomfort it provoked on the Senate bench.

"Ms. N'Darie," Senator Rafael said with great exasperation, "I must say that I find the GSA's obstructive and undemocratic manner extremely disturbing. I believe that your conduct, in particular, here today has been disgraceful."

"As has yours, Senator," N'Darie retorted. "This entire panel is a disgrace, and we're going to take whatever legal action is required to put all of you back into your little box a"

"How DARE you speak in such a manner in here!" Ra.s.so erupted, leaping to his feet. "How DARE you continue to a"

"The next time some f.u.c.khead blows up half a Ta.n.u.shan city block," N'Darie yelled at him, "we'll just let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d go, huh?! THAT's what you're proposing! Great G.o.d almighty, we have terrorists in this city blowing things up and killing people, and your only concern is to try and kill the one person who's in a decent position to stop them! Well, the next lunatic ideologue who comes along looking to blow things up, I hope to G.o.d he comes this way and gets this d.a.m.n building first, because he'll be doing this entire forsaken planet an enormous favour!

"Agents. We're leaving." And with that she turned and stormed out, Naidu and the other CSA staff in tow.

"a.s.sISTANT DIRECTOR!" Ra.s.so bellowed at their departing backs. "You come back here right this very moment, or I'll see you all held in contempt of this Senate!"

"There's not enough contempt in the WORLD, Mr. Ra.s.so!" N'Darie yelled over her shoulder, and banged out the double doors. Sandy and Vanessa followed them out. As she left, Sandy caught one last sight of Izerovski, tall and blonde, arms imperiously folded in triumphant satisfaction at the departure of those unworthy heathens who ran before the might of her glorious, democratic inst.i.tution.

Into the bas.e.m.e.nt parking bay, through the shielded VIP corridor. Onto the reception ap.r.o.n, and the vehicle convoy was already waiting. Three black government cruisers with shielded windows, engines active.

"Kresnov, Rice," said N'Darie, "with me. We'll send someone to pick up your cruiser later." Short legs striding toward the centre vehicle, one escort heading for the front seat while the others dispersed to the support cruisers. The interior was large, with opposing seats. N'Darie took the rear and Naidu sat beside her, Sandy and Vanessa settling opposite. Doors whined closed and the engines powered up, transmission frequencies crackling with secure clearances, a steady flow of official code. Only when the convoy was airborne did N'Darie speak.

"That went badly." Flatly. Fixed Sandy with a sombre gaze. "But we weren't left with a choice. They want to fight, and we can't let them screw us, they've got no more legal authority than we do under present arrangements. We had to punch back."

"Yessir," Sandy said calmly. The Ta.n.u.shan city lights were nearly as bright at 3:30 in the morning as they had been earlier that evening. Below and to the side, the Parliamentary complex fell away behind. A sprawling splendour of red arches and central domes. Congress House. The Senate building beyond the adjoining length of lawn, divided from Congress by the Mistal, a slim, meandering off-branch of the Shoban. Further beyond, and completing the central triangle, the Parliament building, with its multiple, flaring wings-including the rear wing, now famous for all the wrong reasons. The repairs, Sandy had heard, were still ongoing.

The three arms of power. One of them held the SIB's ear. The CSA, supposedly, answered straight to the top. Which raised the question a "Sir a where is Chief Grey? I'd have thought he'd be present."

"It's just one attack, Ca.s.sandra," N'Darie replied. "He's busy."

Sandy glanced at Naidu. Naidu's lips pursed-noncommittal. She didn't like it.

N'Darie reached into a pocket and withdrew a card. "Take this," she said, handing it over. "Security pa.s.s. Not as good as your old ID, but it'll get you in and out. In an unofficial capacity." Sandy looked at it. It certainly didn't look as good as her old leather-bound badge. Just a plastic tag to pin on her jacket.

"I'm still working with the CSA?" she asked.

"Of course you are. They can mess about with official t.i.tles as much as they like, they can't stop you working. And they can't stop us choosing to place our authority with whomever we like. That's internal policy, and that's none of their business."

But it was Benjamin Grey's business. And he'd been absent. As State Security Chief, the CSA was directly answerable to him, and he to the President. It was more official power than the SIB had. But the Senate, apparently, had so many political levers to pull with the President's Administration a Grey hadn't been there. The CSA and the SIB were having a screaming row that threatened to sever even cordial working relations, and Grey had something more important.

She spared another glance at Naidu. Naidu met her eyes briefly. And gave a faint, warning shake of his head.

"We're going to get this sorted out, Sandy," N'Darie said firmly, not seeing that gesture. Sandy blinked. It was the first time, to her memory, that N'Darie had used the nickname. "This is real lunatic stuff. Every d.a.m.n politician is looking at the polling numbers and trying to figure how much noise to make about you. Those morons are getting real c.o.c.ky right now, they're pushing real hard. We just have to ride it out."