The Immortal Crown - Page 48/55

“Stop!” she yelled. “Stop, I’m a Gemman citizen!”

Two flashlights and five guns pointed at her. “Put down your weapon,” barked one of the soldiers.

Mae immediately complied, slowly raising her hands in the air.

“Where’s your chip sensor? I’m a citizen, and I have a group of citizens with me, a mile east down the fence.”

One of the soldiers, a middle aged woman bearing a sergeant’s rank, stepped forward, her gun still fixed on Mae. “The main sensor’s a mile west. The nearest one’s a portable one out with another patrol.”

“Get them here,” exclaimed Mae. “And send someone east. Those are Gemman children. Bring them behind the fence and sort out the details later.”

The woman hesitated and then said something into a headset that Mae couldn’t make out. Shouts sounded behind her, and she turned, catching sight of approaching flashlights in the hands of individuals who were probably carrying guns and wearing Arcadian uniforms.

“Where’s the nearest access point?” demanded Mae. The outposts themselves held the greatest points of entry, but smaller doors, only large enough for one person were scattered all along the border, controlled by both sides for maintenance. Admittedly, that meant someone could walk right over from the other side if they had the proper codes, but they couldn’t do it without triggering alarms. Since Mae’s cover was already blown, secrecy no longer mattered.

“Come on!” she cried, when no one answered right away. “Your Arcadian counterparts are on their way, and when you find out I am a citizen— and that I outrank you, sergeant—you’re going to wish you’d made this easier!”

The woman in charge studied Mae a few moments and then glanced at the rapidly approaching figures. Mae wasn’t entirely unsympathetic to her plight. There were probably Arcadians constantly trying to jump the border, and Mae knew she looked pretty bedraggled.

That being said, her accent had to at least give them pause, as did her demands for a chip reader.

“One click east,” the sergeant said.

Mae swore under her breath. She’d passed it leaving the girls—in fact, it might not be that far from the girls at all. “Well, shoot me, or keep up then.”

She took off down the fence line, the Gemman soldiers keeping pace with her as the Arcadians shouted and grew closer. The sergeant gave a half-hearted order for her to stop, but Mae knew she wouldn’t shoot yet, not unless she tried to enter Gemman territory without authorization. Studying the fence, she saw a subtle shift in the pattern of red lights and realized she had indeed passed the door on her earlier trip. She was contemplating overshooting it to retrieve the girls when she saw dark silhouettes approaching and realized they were coming toward her. Opposite them on the fence, two Gemman soldiers paced the girls, and Mae saw relief cross the soldiers’ features in the erratic light.

“Sergeant,” said one. “We found them where you said.”

A quick headcount assured Mae all her charges were there. “Open the door before the Arcadians get here!” she said.

The sergeant looked the new soldiers over. “Where’s your chip reader?”

One of them pulled out a small handheld device and Mae held her hand up as close to the fence as she dared, hoping her chip’s signal would be close enough for the scanner to read. Some of the Gemman soldiers turned away and focused their guns on something behind her, which didn’t bode well for how close the Arcadians were getting.

“Got it,” said the soldier. “She’s Gemman, and—sergeant, she’s a praetorian!”

The sergeant began entering in the codes on her side that would open the door as her other soldiers began shouting for the Arcadians to stand down. Mae didn’t dare look behind but instead began herding the girls toward the small door. The soldier with the scanner looked around uncertainly.

“None of them are chipped.”

The sergeant finished the codes, and there was an audible click as the door opened. She met Mae’s eyes briefly and said, “Let them in.”

The girls entered, and Mae herself stepped through just as a line of Arcadian soldiers arranged themselves on their side and began making their own threats back at the Gemmans. Mae staggered forward several feet, and then sank to the ground, not realizing until that moment just how weak and dizzy she was from exertion, lack of food, and the apple tree incident. She didn’t worry so much about the altercation behind her. Scuffles and shouting matches probably happened all the time. So long as no one was shot—which she had to imagine they had a lot of practice in self-control with—she would be all right until the next batch of red tape. All that mattered now was that she had done it. She’d crossed over.

The girls huddled around her, looking at her with concern. Ava was standing closest, her little face grave in the shadows. “Are you okay, Miss Mae?”

“Yes—yes I am.” Mae clasped the girl’s hand and tried to manage a smile as she looked into all of the gathered faces. “Welcome to the Republic of United North America.”

CHAPTER 25

Revelations and Claims

The Gemman delegation received a lot of fanfare when they returned, and Justin’s first few days back in Vancouver were spent in a whirlwind of interviews and other public events. Lucian remained the star, of course, but the press was eager to get a hold of anyone they could, and Justin even found himself getting recognized on the streets occasionally.

In his own household, Cynthia—despite an initial show of emotion at his return—promptly made it clear that she wasn’t treating him any differently, “famous celebrity or not.” After his week in Arcadia, Justin actually found her abrasive attitude endearing and didn’t mind a little bossing around. In fact, after watching the women in Arcadia labor away, he felt guilty at what Cynthia put into their home and offered to ease her burden by hiring a cook. This immediately spurred accusations of him not liking her food anymore, and Justin soon learned that there were some battles of liberation best not fought.

He met with Hansen and his friends a few times, ostensibly as a diplomatic gesture to make sure they were adjusting. Secretly, his superiors wanted Justin to check in and make sure the plans to entrap the hackers were still going forward. Lucian had held true to not wasting time, and arrangements for the sting were set for that week.

Unbeknownst to the Gemman officials, Justin and Hansen had even more covert discussions about Odin. Justin would’ve really liked to refer him to Geraki, who had much more experience with this kind of thing, but until the Arcadian drama settled down and Hansen acclimated to society, it was probably best if he wasn’t seen associating with someone on a government watch list.

Family life returned to normal, and Justin learned that Tessa had weirdly gotten involved with a youth group supporting Lucian’s political party and had also been pretty intently wrapped up in her journalism internship. Rufus was quick to reassure any concerns Justin had about Daphne exploiting Tessa.

“You don’t need to worry about the reporter,” Rufus explained in the study one day. “I mean, she’s slimy like all of them, but I’ve been around when they’re together, and although she does ask Tessa a lot of questions, I think it’s more natural habit than anything else. She hasn’t tried digging into Tessa’s personal life or seem like she’s working that poor-provincial-in-the-big-city angle. I also checked her for surveillance equipment each time she came over. She never got a recorder in. And from what I’ve gathered, Tessa’s cut ties with her anyway.”

“Good to know,” said Justin, looking Rufus over. “Thank you for watching the situation. And for everything else.” He hadn’t had much time to talk to Rufus since returning. Mostly the other man stayed out of the way, and both Tessa and Cynthia spoke favorably of him. Best of all, there’d been no incidents or attacks in Justin’s absence. Maybe it was coincidence, but he was more than willing to give credit where credit was due.

“Just doing my job.” Rufus’s expression turned thoughtful. “But on that note . . . well, there’s actually something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. Actually, I wanted to talk to Praetorian Koskinen, but she hasn’t been returning messages.”

“She’s still preoccupied,” said Justin carefully. Preoccupied in the Arcadian wilderness. And like that, all the worries and imaginings he’d been trying to push aside since returning came tumbling down on him.

He’d tried to distract himself with the press, with his family, with Hansen . . . but there was no getting around it. Mae was still missing, and it was literally keeping him up at night.

“That’s too bad,” said Rufus after a moment of scrutiny. “Well, then I guess I should give you my notice instead. I really wanted to stay on, but other commitments have come up, and I may have to be gone within the week. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Justin dragged his thoughts from Mae. “No, no . . . I mean, yeah, it’s too bad. Everyone likes you, but I’m sure Dag can sub in more praetorians. If it’s about money—”

Rufus shook his head. “The money’s good. I’ve just got bigger things calling me—no offense.”

“None taken,” said Justin. “Just let me know when you think you’re going.”

“Probably in a few more days, but I’ll let you know for sure.”

Rufus turned for the door but then paused. “Maybe Praetorian Koskinen will be back by them.”

“Maybe,” said Justin, his heart sinking.

On Justin’s fifth day back in Vancouver, Lucian showed up unannounced at his door one afternoon, and that’s when Justin knew. It was also the day the Arcadian hackers were being set up, but as monumental as that was, that wouldn’t have brought Lucian in person.

“She’s back,” said Justin.

Lucian’s face split into a grin. “She’s back.”

Justin hurried him inside, giving a brief nod of greeting to his bodyguard. “Come in, and tell me everything.”

The bodyguard stayed behind in the living room while Justin brought Lucian to the study with a bottle of brandy and two glasses.

“She’s actually been back a few days,” Lucian began.

Justin nearly dropped the bottle as he poured. “And you only now just told me?”

“I honestly didn’t know. The military’s been all over it and didn’t let us in on it until today. I guess since I’d already left a statement with them when we came back, they didn’t feel the need to check in since her story matched ours—well, mostly matched. I’m sure she was surprised to hear I’d authorized her daring mission. But she’s smart. She probably rolled along with it.”

“Of course she did.” Justin spoke more harshly than he intended, largely to cover up his own spiraling emotions. As it was, he was having to work hard to stop his hands from shaking. “So she really made it in without getting caught? And with the girls?”

Lucian nodded. “All eleven of them, doe-eyed and adorable from what I’ve heard. They’ve matched their genes to the registry, and all but two were born from Gemman parents. Doesn’t matter, though. No one’s going to turn those other two away. Sounds like her niece wasn’t the only one smuggled out for convenience either, but that’s all for the social workers to sort out.”

“As long as you can get one reunited family to gush their gratitude to you in a well-televised way, it’ll be a PR job well done,” said Justin bitterly.

“That’s not the only reason I did this.”

Justin knocked back his brandy and noticed Lucian was keeping pace. It was possible the senator had been almost as stressed over all of this as Justin. “I know,” Justin admitted. “And I know what a big gamble you took coming out and taking responsibility for this. Thank you. It must’ve gone a long way in smoothing the way back for her.”

“Don’t get carried away,” said Lucian. “I didn’t necessarily do it for you either.”

“Ah.” Justin paused to pour more brandy. “Right. Finally you’ve found out how to win your way into her heart or her bed . . . or whatever it is you’re after.”

Lucian held out his glass for a refill. “Do you really think my motivations are that shallow?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think,” said Justin. “You’ve continued chasing her, despite her lack of interest and a million societal reasons going against you. What’s your game here? Your most optimistic outcome is a secret one-night fling. That’s it. You can’t be seen publicly. You can’t date her. You can’t marry her. Your career won’t allow it.”

Lucian leaned back, looking far too smug, and rested his feet on Justin’s desk. “Have you seen my approval ratings? And that’s before all this other stuff breaks. It’s going to take a lot to turn the public against me now, and if we bring her into this—actually make it known that she’s the one responsible for bravely rescuing a group of orphans— she’ll be just as loved. A heritage that she isn’t even active in isn’t going to matter in the public eye. The Nordics’ll be pissed off, maybe. Everyone else’ll eat it up.”

“I just don’t get how you can be that into her,” said Justin. “I mean, I do, but you don’t really know her. Is the blonde hair really that appealing?”

“Yes,” said Lucian. Then, after a calculated pause: “As is a woman who’s a powerful elect.”

Justin set his glass down so hard, the brandy sloshed out.