Heart of the Storm, page 19
“Maybe no one will believe them when they say it's you.”
I snorted. “Everyone will believe them. You know why the media always whines about propaganda? Because on a lot of people, it works. And because they don't like the competition.” I ran a hand over my cheeks to dab away the wetness there. “No, the world's going to buy that it's me, because it's simpler than contemplating what they'd have to do to change things if it's not me. Because writing me off is a lot easier than trying to remove Fen Liu from China.”
Wade was quiet in the dark for a moment. “Is it really so terrible, contemplating the idea that maybe, finally, you'd be able to find a quiet corner of the world and just...disappear?”
“Everyone knows me, Wade,” I said, smearing the back of my hand as I rubbed it along my cheeks. “Where would I go?”
“Plenty of countries would love to have Sienna Nealon watching over them.”
I frowned. “No, they wouldn't. I'm a lightning rod for every kind of trouble imaginable, and I'm enemies with, at minimum, China, which is the largest power on the planet. No one's going to want to touch me even with the eleven-foot pole that they reserve for the things they don't want to touch with their ten-foot pole.”
Wade was quiet for a moment. “I'd touch you with a lot shorter pole than that. And have.”
The joke came so completely out of left field that it took me a moment to get it, and when I did, I chuckled, then laughed, closing my eyes and elbowing him – gently. “Oh, really?”
“Really,” he said, unmoving. He bumped me back.
“I...” Haltingly, I lowered my head. “Yeah, I probably need to find a deep, dark hole and just pull it closed over my head.”
“There are places you can do that,” Wade said. “I have a friend with a cabin in Montana that's yours if you want it. Not another soul for miles and miles. Your cousin Alannah has a place like that, too, if her stories about her upbringing aren't total bullshit.” He leaned his head a little closer. “There are places on Earth you can still go and live without worrying about encountering Chinese agents or American authorities – if you want that.”
“Go live alone on a mountaintop by myself? Sounds grand,” I said, with only a small measure of self-pitying sarcasm.
“You don't have to be alone,” he said.
I looked over at him, and found him right there, looking into my eyes. “Who's going to come be an exile with me? You?”
He didn't even hesitate. “Sure. Why not?”
And then he kissed me. Not like Ricardo swooping in on a field mouse, but slow enough I could easily have dodged.
I didn't dodge. I leaned in.
The kiss was good; hungry and long-awaited. It melded right into another, and I found my hands clutching at his chest, anchoring myself, rubbing against him.
I don't know who shucked the first item of clothing, but I do know that we were naked in seconds, floating just off the ground on the mountaintop, the trees above us forming a perfect canopy as we rolled on air as though it were a mattress.
There were things I did to him, and things he did to me, that made the world and all its petty troubles, the future and all its terrors, fade away.
And somewhere in the night, in the arms of my husband, deeply sated in a way I could not recall feeling in years...I fell asleep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Iwoke up, floating on air above some mountain in China, a man's hairy arm draped over me. It took a moment for my sleep-hazed mind to remember why I was here, what had happened, and to have it all settle into place in my head.
But when it did...hoo, boy.
A city was in ruins thanks to my intervention, and I'd just slept with my husband who, by the by, had a girlfriend. I was trapped behind enemy lines in China, my grandmother and great-grandfather were here, too, and so was a Chinese dissident who I'd convinced to come along. We had a teleporter at our service, but couldn't reach him at present because our phones were bricked, and...
...Did I mention I had just slept with my husband, who had a girlfriend? I'd met her. Pale, dark-haired, Nordic, not that good looking. Definitely a succubus.
I swore softly under my breath and I sensed Wade stir behind me, a soft grunt escaping him moments later.
Turning to look at him, my arms cradled delicately across my private parts, I debated what to say in this moment of awkwardness.
“I've already seen you naked,” Wade said, eyes thinly slitted, a sleepy look on his face. “Don't go getting modest on me now.”
“Just don't want you getting the wrong idea,” I said, still working on composing thoughts.
“Like that you might sleep with me?” He sat upright on air, not bothering to play the same cover-up game that I was. “Where would I get a crazy idea like that?” I glancingly took note of the fact that he was awake in more ways than one.
“I was emotionally distressed last night,” I said. “From the explosion. From the circumstances.”
“And what's changed?”
“You comforted me,” I said. “That's what changed. It worked.”
“Mmm,” he said nodding. “Well, why don't you work through whatever instability you're about to spit out at me, and I'll comfort you some more.”
“This isn't funny,” I said, feeling a certain irritability rise in me. “We have real problems.”
“Yes,” Wade said. “That is true. But it was also true last night.”
Frustration. That was what I was feeling. “Clearly I made a mistake last night.”
“Why?” Wade asked, almost impishly.
“Because I slept with you,” I said. “I let myself get distracted–”
“What were you going to do if we hadn't done what we did?”
I let an annoyed breath out. “I don't know. But the point is–”
“Yes, please. I am eager to hear the point. I think you keep circling it. The real one, I mean.”
“The point is you have a girlfriend,” I said, finally letting that cannonball explode out of me that I'd been holding back. “Remember? And I'm almost certain I'm related to her in some way, though I'm a little afraid to find out exactly how I am.”
“That sounds like something you ought to ask Hades or Lethe about,” he said, maintaining that impish smile.
“Yes, I can't wait to ask them about it – 'Hey, did you know my husband is sleeping with another woman. Pretty sure she's related to us – ever heard of Juliet?'”
He shrugged. “It'll hardly be the first time they've heard that from a family member, I'm pretty sure.”
“Is this just a joke to you?” I asked, feeling real heat flush through my face. “I am not the cheating kind, okay? I don't want to be the other woman in whatever drama you've got going on–”
“Sienna, I'm not sleeping with Juliet,” Wade said.
I paused, mid-rant. “You lied to me?”
“No,” he said. “I was dating Juliet. It's just...” He grimaced. “Look, I wanted to be over you, because I knew you didn't remember me. That you didn't remember our marriage, or have any feelings for me. And Juliet, she worked as a source for CIA. When we met, we...well, we got along well. But, uh, if you're asking,” and here he blushed slightly, “nothing ever happened beyond the stage of making out and...uh, petting, I guess. I certainly never slept with her.”
“Why the hell not?” I asked, gesturing below his belt with a hand. “You clearly didn't lack for motivation, or enthusiasm.”
“Because of you, Sienna,” he said, looking a little pained as he said it. “I know you moved on with Harry, but I...” And here he bowed his head. “...I wasn't over you yet. I'm still not.” He looked up at me, and there was pain in his eyes.
“Then why didn't you tell me?” I asked, feeling distinctly choked.
“Because you were running a war,” he said. “I figured the last thing you needed was some sort of pissing contest between me and Harry. I just wanted to take that out of the equation. One less worry on your mind.”
I stood there for a moment, then walked over to him, pulling him to me and kissing him. “You think it hasn't been on my mind? You numbskull.” But I kissed him again.
“I got the sense that it might have been,” he said. “Just, maybe a little late.”
“How late?” I asked.
He looked pained, then shrugged. “Last night.”
I could have laughed, could have cried. Instead I kissed him again, because there was a sense of relief that flowed through me, my whole body, really. I melted into him, and he into me, and under the sunlight dappling through the leaves, we drew together once more.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Zhang
Emergency services came upon the scene, but delayed. It didn't matter, not where Zhang was, because everyone was dead here. He could say this much for Fen Liu: her aim was certainly unerring. She hit exactly where she meant to. Her target just moved. But as he looked at his phone again, and received a ping of an update, he knew–
This had been all Fen Liu's doing.
He walked the ashen streets, listening to the screams. Because now he'd reached the part of the city where the screaming had begun. The smoke hung heavy, almost choking, and his chest ached where he'd taken the knife hilt. He limped along, watching burnt people expire on the sides of the road. Watching, and looking away.
His phone buzzed; he looked down at it, then cocked his head.
Are you all right?
An unknown number. Yet the message hinted at familiarity.
Fen Liu? Likely. She certainly changed phones often enough, to ensure her security. And who else would be asking him how he was doing after dropping a bomb on his head?
He paused in his walk, shoes coated in the ash of the dead city, and didn't contemplate his reply very long.
No thanks to you, you fucking bitch.
And hit send.
Then he kept walking, determined to find a car to commandeer. He probably shouldn't have indulged himself by answering; that had been unwise.
But she'd just happily tried to kill him, and she hadn't needed to. She could have sent someone else to spearhead the attack. She hadn't. And she'd planned to drop the bomb, that much was obvious. Otherwise she would have informed him.
“I can't stay here any longer, can I?” he muttered to himself. But he already knew the answer. She might not have intended to kill him the first time, but after what he'd just said, or after what she'd already done, he was going to be targeted. She couldn't have him out there, after all, telling people she was the one responsible for destroying Guangzhou.
No, his days were numbered. In fact, he needed to shed his phone and steal someone else's; get on the nearest, most direct flight out of China as soon as possible. He couldn't even risk taking his phone. Lifting it again in a fit of panic, he saw that she'd responded – that cow.
And then he cocked his head. Because the response...was quite different from what he'd expected from Fen Liu.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Fen Liu
She smirked as she put down the phone. All her plans were coming to fruition. Sacrifices would continue to be made, of course.
Just not by her.
“Madam Premier,” General Guoqiang said, drawing her attention to the video call she'd begun before she got distracted with other things. “Did you require anything else?”
Ah, another man chafing to get away from her. Usually a new appointee's gratitude lasted a bit longer, but like all men, she expected his interest to grow stale. Or her own to sour on him. It appeared that was happening a bit faster than anticipated, but she'd been around long enough to know it was all a part of the natural cycle of servitude. She'd only experienced it thousands, perhaps millions of times in her long life.
“You have the additional bombs ready?” she asked.
“They are,” he said, nodding sharply. “Whenever she shows up again, we will have one on target in less than a minute.”
“Hmmm,” she said. A minute was a long time for Nealon. She could move quite a distance in sixty seconds. “Drop closer to the ground next time to narrow the escape window. Have you begun calling up the next rank of loyal volunteers to receive metahuman powers?” She glanced at the report open on her screen; the destruction of Guangzhou had killed quite a large number of her metahuman forces.
Well...sacrifices had to be made. And China had no shortage of loyal citizens to draw from; the more she killed, the more blame she could heap on Sienna Nealon via her propaganda apparatus, and the more loyalty she would reap in return. She'd have the entire nation terrified of Nealon setting so much as a toe in their province. Perhaps she could even spearhead a new Cultural Revolution, reduce the surplus population a bit – of males, at least – make China stronger still.
“We have begun,” General Guoqiang said. “Three million have received orders to report, and will be receiving their metahuman serums within hours. I estimate we can have them ready to deploy a few hours after that, though their combat effectiveness will be limited by lack of training.”
She waved that away. “A pack of wild dogs can tear apart an armed man if you throw enough of them at him. The same will be true of Sienna Nealon; besides, they are all distractions to keep her busy while our munitions do the real work. I will drown her in these clumsy new recruits, and then rain upon her with as many bombs as I need to get the job done.” She paused. “Next time, send five, perhaps even ten bombs. Encircle the main target point with a ring of additional munitions out to five miles. Devastate the countryside for a hundred kilometers; ensure that she cannot escape by merely following a river. You understand?”
A panoply of emotions played across Guoqiang's chubby face. “You want me to create a wasteland, with her last known position at the center.”
“Correct,” Fen Liu said.
There was only a moment of hesitation. “But you know she can fly?”
“I am aware of that, yes.” Did he think her simple?
“I only mention it, Madam Premier, because she will be able to outfly the explosions, to achieve an altitude above them.”
“The drones will keep her grounded,” Fen Liu said. “And if they don't, we'll find another solution. Learn. Adapt. Improvise. General.” She cut him off mid nod. He was like a fish; no longer fresh, the time for a replacement was fast arriving.
Fen Liu stayed a moment in silence, contemplating her control. All was proceeding as planned, from propaganda efforts to her military preparations. A note appeared on her screen – a message from satellite tracking. The falcon, it seemed, was in motion again, after a delay. A night spent in a tree outside Anshun.
She smiled; this was another piece of good news in a veritable buffet of them. The falcon would lead to the falconer, and the falconer would be overwhelmed with destruction.
She allowed herself another moment to smile, because the anticipation was almost more than she could bear.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Sienna
We started cleaning up the camp after...well, after.
Oh, God.
I could feel Wade watching me as I stood under a tree, staring up at the break in the boughs, sun shining down out of a cloudless sky. A perfect morning in a perfect place.
Except, for, y'know, the fact that potentially millions of people were dead because of me. And I was trapped in a foreign country where everyone surely hated me, and were on the lookout for me, and wanted to murder me.
I rubbed the camouflage fabric between my fingers, and shrugged my way into it. It fritzed once, then died, leaving my pale arms to show through where holographic images of a random Chinese lady's wardrobe might once have been.
“Must be because it can't interface with a phone,” Wade said, squatting next to the tent. The last air was being sucked out of it, now, Cassidy's neat design taking it down to a packet the size of one of those disposable ponchos you could buy in tourist shops, or fit in your back pocket. He fastened it into a small shape, then tossed it into his backpack. “You know where we're going yet?”
I hung my head. “Vietnam, I think. There's no clearing my name of this. Not in China. And if I had even a thin thread of a lead on where Fen Liu was, or the camo was still working...” I sighed.
But I didn't have a lead, and I didn't have camo, or communications. I was blacked out, Lethe, Hades, and Jian were all missing, and I was stuck in a foreign country where I could never blend in because I looked nothing like the natives, and because I was public enemy number one here. My efficacy in China was now zero; showing my face anywhere would result in an instant incident, armies and drones sweeping down, and bombs following shortly after.
“If I continue my war,” I said, “millions, maybe even a billion, will die.” I looked down at my fingernails and saw ash beneath them. “I don't want vengeance bad enough to kill that many people.” I smiled ruefully. “And I don't think justice comes at the cost of that many.”
Wade sighed. “It's such a conundrum. The Chinese don't have free speech, or the power to fight even if they did, and could organize a rebellion. It's whispers, far from any electronics, versus mass communications and social media. The modern equivalent of spears and swords against machine guns, tanks, and metahumans. Which they are facing, because anyone who even wanted to resist has neither guns nor metahuman powers.”
“They've created a box,” I said, staring into the distance, the sky prickling its way between the boughs, like a call to freedom I could answer but bring no one else along to, “and they've stuck the whole country in it.”
“Maybe there's still a way,” Wade said.
“How?” I asked, almost laughing. “A billion and a half people, all eating out of the hand of the Chinese media? Like you said, any rebellion is just disorganized whispers. They can't cohere into a movement, and even if they could, they'd be shot down in the street because they have no weapons and no powers and the whole apparatus of government is arranged against them like a circular firing squad.” My voice dropped and broke. “I can't save them. God, I wish I could. I want to. More than vengeance, even; Fen Liu may have wronged me, but she's done so much worse to the Chinese people. For at least seventy years, she's done things to them that deserve an accounting. And I cannot bring that reckoning, and it just kills me.”
