Chapter 13: Distractions

The very lightest of dawn sunshine broke through the tiny cracks in the barn's wooden walls, making Tamara blink a moment to adjust to the dim surroundings. She lay still, listened, could feel her daughter in front of her, one of her sons behind. She listened for movement beyond, heard only the sound of wind moving over the building, rattling the tin roof.

Something hard was pressing against her butt, and at first she assumed it was Finch's knee. She rolled over slowly, realized it was not his knee. Her son's hard penis was pressing out his pants. Tamara brushed aside the tantalizing urge to sweep her fingers across it, caught herself, roused and stood a moment, trying to get her bearings.

The light coming into the barn was minimal, but it was better than the dark, stormy night that had slowly passed. The upper level held little else besides the blanket and mat and old hay. Tamara peered over the edge, heard and saw nothing moving, and scurried down the ladder.

On the ground floor she edged her way to the larger doors and peered out through the glass. Horses stirred closer to the larger barn set near the crest of the hill. Sheep huddled in another field, but she saw no signs of people.

Tamara rushed around, looking for anything that might help them. She spotted three feed sacks and a rough shoulder pack, grabbed them. She gathered a long knife, a small leather-working tool, two long strands of rope, another thick wool blanket, a bundle of rags, three pint-sized plastic jugs. Finch had joined her by then, and she handed him a bag, told him to fill it with anything that looked useful.

Tamara hated to be a thief, but her family came first. She found twine, scissors, and a utility knife. Whatever was to come, they had to be better prepared than they had been the day before.

Finch moved to the far side of the barn, just enough light to see the shelves lined there. There were several small jars that looked like jam, so he grabbed a few and packed straw around them to keep them from clinking. He found a large canister of honey, grabbed that too.

Finch smiled when he saw what sat at the end of the shelf. Three huge bushels of blackberries sat there. He could smell the tangy, sweet fruits as he swept up to them. Finch grabbed a handful and swallowed them, his stomach crying out for more. He caught his mom's eye, motioned her over.

Tamara saw the bounty and filled the feed sacks full of them, adding a couple more of the small jam jars. His mom smiled at him, nodded toward the upper level, and followed him up as they slowly ascended with the moderately-heavy packs.

Lauren woke as Finch's head passed over the edge of the ladder. She jumped, hadn't remembered falling asleep, felt like only minutes had passed. The movement had scared her, but when she saw Finch's smile, she relaxed a moment, was able to catch her breath as her mother was quickly beside her.

Her mom whispered quietly, "eat. There are blackberries. Not too much. We need to move soon, get back to the river. People are bound to be stirring with the dawn. Each of you shoulder one of the bags. Roll up the blanket, we're taking it with us as well."

"Isn't this stealing, Mom?" Lauren's head barely awake enough to remember their situation.

"Would you rather die?" Her mother's voice was stressed, an edge of anger.

"No," Lauren said with a small voice.

Tamara exhaled, gave her daughter a weak smile. "I'm sorry. Just feeling it all right now. Eat up, let's move out before we get caught."

Lauren ate handfuls of the delicious berries before her mom had them ready to leave. The blanket was going into the bag when a long, loud creak announced that the lower-level door had swung wide open.

Tamara almost dropped her bag trying to get the pistol out of her pocket. Her nerves were rather cool, she kept her breath in check. Her children depended on her, it steeled her to remember that. She slowly disengaged the safety on the gun, peered over the edge, and prepared to shoot anyone who threatened them.

Gene woke to an arm wrapping over his body, warm flesh pushed against him. He smiled sleepily, whispered back, "morning, Tam. How'd you sleep."

"Pleasant dream then, Gene?"

The voice didn't register a moment, then he remembered. He turned over, Holly's face grinning near his own. The depth of his situation sunk in fast, he muttered, "oh ... right."

"Not many men have had that reaction to waking up next to me, naked. Geez, Gene, you sure know how to make a girl feel wanted."

"Can it, Holly. You know where my mind is right now." He softened just a bit, "sorry. I'm ... I'm just worried about my family. Nothing personal."

"Indeed. Apology accepted. Get up, we have a meeting to get to in an hour."

"Meeting?"

"We can't stay here more than a day or two, left too many tracks getting you out. Need to make plans for you."

"Plans."

"To keep you safe."

"Until you have what you need from me. Then you stop looking out for me."

"More or less. Look, Gene, I meant what I said. I hope you survive. If we ever discover what you know, you won't be nearly as valuable to anyone as you are right now. Some want you dead. Some want you alive long enough to talk. Be thankful some of the latter exist."

Feet crunched the dry hay and shuffled slowly across the wooden planks. Tamara held still, listening. When the sound moved to the far end of the barn and stopped, she dared poke her head over the edge of the upper level.

A young girl wearing a simple blue dress and a wide-brimmed hat was standing near the shelf, snatching blackberries by the handful, eating everything she pulled away. Tamara eased back the gun and exhaled, turned back to her kids, brought a single finger over her lips.

The girl ate for a moment or two, then grabbed a couple of jars of jam before heading back out the door and closing it behind her.

Tamara exhaled again, motioned everyone onto their feet, said very quietly, "I'll go out first, make sure no one's out there. Head over the hill behind us and don't stop until we get to the river. Follow me quietly but quickly."

Logan felt a bit better that morning. His belly no longer rumbled after the wonderful blackberries, and the edge of excitement was once more bubbling into his mood. The decided lack of people shooting at them, of people chasing them through narrow tunnels, did a lot to help. The night spent in the barn had sent him back into his heroic dreams, and the satisfied boy lingered on the glimpses of triumphant moments and shirtless women.

His mother got them moving quickly over the hill where they passed into tall trees and put distance between them and the farm. It took no time at all to find the river and again start following it south. The bag on his shoulder began to feel heavy quickly, but he sucked it up, remembered that heroes have to endure a lot to be heroes, and smiled a small smile at his performance to date.

The meeting took place in a small cafe a couple of blocks from the water. Gene sat with Holly and the tight-lipped soldier at a table in the back corner of the joint, his eyes watching every movement with trepidation.

The night before had been a blur. He'd fucked Holly, crumbling into despair afterwards. She'd showed a soft side for a while, cradling his head while he felt horrible. When she had taken his hand and led him to bed, he'd crawled in without comment. The soldier who now guarded them at the table had not slept, so Holly claimed, and had stood vigil at the door all night. Wistin and Sofija stayed in the adjoining room. Gene had yet to see them that morning.

While they waited, Gene kept his thoughts bubbling. He wondered how much he could trust Holly, if at all. She'd ruthless killed the soldier on the helicopter, and assumedly had done the same to Wullis and the others. It was her word that Victor had turned on him, and he didn't know what that meant in the power struggle playing out around the world, or the one that might be playing out back in Switzerland. He needed answers.

"What was Victor planning?"

"Hmm?"

"With me. You told me you thought the attack was cover for making me appear to be kidnapped. Why? What was he going to do with me? He already had me captive, basically. He didn't need to pull me out of there."

"He was taking you to Turkmenistan. M1 has few tendrils within, and most of the other players are non-existent there."

"Why? To what end?"

"Victor's playing his own game, Gene. I don't have all the answers. When we caught his agent, the one who turned on him, we found out enough that we knew Victor was a shark in our midst. He tried to have me killed in Italy, I barely got out. I lost two good friends..."

"I'm sorry..."

"He knew I was on to him, which makes me think he has other agents in M1 working for him. Hard to know who to trust right now."

"This guy we're meeting ... do you trust him?"

"Her. And yes. As much as I trust anyone. She's my sister."

"Sister?"

"Anna is my older sister. I need news, updates, and a plan for you. She'll have the latest. I've had a hard time getting information since yesterday, lots of M1 locked down right now, agents going to ground all over the place, and commanders are not opening their comms to most anyone not within eyesight. Anna's an agent for M1 – Southeast Asia, above me, and on her way from Bangalore right now, should be here any minute."

Gene let that play in his head, switched tracks. "Holly ... who was the woman with you in the pictures at Victor's mansion?"

The hesitation and twitch was barely seen, but Gene noticed. "She's my mother."

"And you're Victor and Theresa's granddaughter, right?"

"I am."

"Jesus."

"Don't judge me, Gene. For any of it. I don't judge you. What Victor has done to me in the last couple of days has changed everything. Everything. For all of us. He may be my grandfather, but right now, he's my enemy first. He's trying to kill me, and you. Please, no more about that right now, especially since Anna is here."

Lauren plodded along the edge of an overgrown grassy plain that hugged the river where it bent hard to the east and tumbled over a series of small falls. They'd stopped just once since leaving the barn, just long enough to pee and fill the plastic jugs with water. They'd eaten more berries, sampled the honey, and moved on.

Her feet were raw, blistering already. She'd never been much on hiking or doing much on her feet, and the long hours of walking did nothing to warm her to those hobbies. The boys paced ahead as she drifted beside her mother. "Mom ... what are we doing?"

Tamara was silent a moment before she said, "I don't know."

Lauren exhaled, said, "do we just keep walking, then?"

"For now. I don't know what to do Lauren ... I'm sorry. We got away but now ... I don't know."

"Ok." She took her mom's hand, could hear the despair in her voice. "We'll be ok, Mom. You did great ... getting us out? We'll figure it out."

Her mother drew a tight smile, said quietly, "thank you, Lauren. We all just stick together, here, ok? Don't get mad at your brothers ... or me ... please ... we need to stay calm, get each other's backs ... you doing ok?"

"Feet are killing me."

"Mine too."

"Otherwise ... scared for Dad."

Tamara's lip trembled when she said softly, "me too."

Gene was pissed. Seriously pissed. Anna had arrived wearing a ridiculously-large overcoat that made her look like a midget. The blonde woman looked a lot like her sister. Short, blonde, very pretty. Her lips were thinner, her chin more pronounced, but the similarities were obvious. As soon as she'd arrived, the tight-lipped soldier had stood, leaned to Gene's ear, said, 'follow me outside.'

Gene had eyed the sisters as they sat silently, got up with his eyes tight, and followed the man out the door where he was led down to a bench back near the water. When they finally stopped, Gene turned to the man, asked, "what's going on?"

"Conversation not for your ears."

"Fuck that. This involves me."

"Not all of it. Keep your ego in check, Mr. Polanski. The whole world is at stake."

So Gene fumed a few moments. His anger boiled, he stood, paced, decided he was done being a pawn.

Gene started walking back to the cafe and was stopped within five strides by the soldier, who took his arm and swung him around, then said, "they'll come get you when they are ready. Wait here."

"Fuck you. If you don't want me going back in there, then shoot me. Right now, I don't give a shit." Gene yanked his arm free and dared the man to put a bullet in his back. For the first few steps he was certain it would happen. By the time he got back to the cafe, he realized the soldier had simply followed a few steps behind him the entire way.

Gene slammed his hand down on the table, causing the sisters to jump. Despite the angry edge to his voice, his voice sizzled at a low volume. "Talk to me! You want my help? Then start helping me. I'm part of this now, yes? Part of whatever you say matters. Fine. Fucking make me part of it. Stop shutting me out, Holly."

"M1 doesn't work like that, Gene, there are protoco--"

"Fuck that. Remember Victor? Didn't you say he changed everything? Right now, I don't know who to trust, and if you expect me to help you, you gotta start trusting me. I'm in all the way or I walk."

Holly and Anna stared at each other silently before Anna nodded curtly.

Holly said quietly but with force, "Fine. You're in. Sit down. We have a lot to go over."

Finch stayed low on the hill in the line of squat bushes that ringed the crest, his body hugging the grass and soil below. They had been watching the road which ran a half-mile below them toward a bridge crossing the river. A checkpoint had been set up there, a dozen dark-colored vehicles blocking the road and stopping every car that approached.

Tamara had stopped them when she'd spotted it, moved them into cover, and ensured they all drank and ate berries while they waited. Finch ate enough to stop his stomach from rumbling, but his anxiety rose the longer he lay prostrate.

The morning had passed quickly as they followed the river several miles, more farms and private homes were skirted, and only once had they had to run when sheep bleating exploded from a few dozen feet away, giving speed to their movements.

Little had been said. It had become obvious to Finch that they were running just to do something, their flight had no endpoint, no goal other than to keep moving. It made it hard to keep his fears in check, and the longer they walked, the less sure he was that there was a happy ending.

Tamara's mind raced as she realized they only had a couple of options. They could change tactics and move away from the river, heading east to where the Mountains rose up sharply. Or they could attempt to move east just far enough to avoid the roadblock and then pick up the river where it flowed south once more.

It wasn't an easy choice. She had no idea who the black-suited soldiers were who manned the checkpoint. They were forcing each person to get out of every car, checking truck beds, trailers, and trunks. They were looking for something. Or someone. Whatever it was they were after, Tamara knew she couldn't risk turning her family over to them.

She downed a handful of berries and studied the land around her. The river had provided them a ready source of water and she couldn't imagine trying the journey of the past day and half without that. The forbidding cold peaks to the east helped her decide, and she said quietly, "in five minutes, we move east down the backside of this hill. Stay low, stay in the trees. We'll look for a place we can cross and move south, then pick up the river again. Don't talk, don't expose yourselves from cover until I say so. Eat up, pee, do what you need to do, we move shortly."

Lauren squatted a few feet away from her family, urinating and voiding her bowels. She wished desperately for toilet paper, but had to be content with one of the shop rags they'd brought from the barn that morning. It felt gritty against her tender flesh as she wiped. Lauren cleaned up as best she could, tossed the rag into the bushes, and pulled her panties and pants back onto her body.

She'd watched the roadblock carefully, not sure what she was supposed to notice. Men in dark suits stopped vehicles and searched passengers before letting each depart across the bridge. Whatever they were looking for, the men were being very thorough. Lauren wondered why they didn't just go down to the men and ask for help. It seemed like the endless walking had no end in sight, and it made no sense to her to go on without seeking assistance.

Whatever it was that kept her mom from proposing that, Lauren decided to accept it for the moment. Whatever happened to Dad ... these could be the men that attacked us, I suppose ... Certainly don't look like the soldiers who defended the compound. Don't look like Private Sanderson who probably died to protect us as we ran...

They'd spent an hour on the state of things, Gene doing all the listening as Anna and Holly discussed the latest intel. No Limits had inexplicably gone quiet over the previous twenty-four hours. No killings linked to them, no overt actions. Anna expected their technical operators were still on the job, hacking networks and fomenting chaos and uncertainty, but M1 had detected no obvious signatures from the group.

India and Pakistan had been clashing in traditional warfare, a quarter million troops fighting in the rough border lands after explosions at power plants and military installations on both sides left them blaming each other. Their decades of itchy trigger fingers had easily set them into armed conflict, and it looked to only grow over the days to come.

The Korean peninsula was likewise on fire, North Korean troops moved south of the DMZ the day before, more hundreds of thousands of soldiers and their advanced weaponry going hot all across the region. Malaysia, Indonesia, and Thai revolutionaries had attempted coups, though the results of those actions were still unknown.

So far, the United States, UK, Russia, and China had avoided outright conflict, though they had all instituted heightened security protocols and had troops on alert for immediate deployment. Media outlets had begun to grow the narrative for various populations with timely leaks and obvious mayhem forcing them to report the rising unrest in many parts of the world. The shadow groups like No Limits hadn't made the headlines, not yet, but Anna was sure it was just a matter of time before those connections saw the light of day.

The Chilean president had barely survived an assassination attempt, and high-ranking government officials in Turkey, Slovakia, and Mexico had already been slain. More were probably dying as the three sat in the Maltese cafe, the tight-lipped soldier sitting alone by the door, his sidearm barely concealed in his lap.

"Who's running M1 now that Victor's out?" It was the first time Gene had spoken in the conversation.

Anna replied, "Spider."

"Who?"

"Spider was Victor's XO in Israel. I'm in contact with him. He has a team of four agents and half of Third Squad with him, along with a couple hundred regular soldiers. Right now, he's hunkered down, running the Mike-One operations, trying to make contact with all the agents that have gone to ground. Tense times, Gene. Tense times."