New York Run

Chapter Nineteen

Everything was proceeding according to the Minister’s plan! The Home would soon be history!

Lieutenant Alicia Farrow smiled, her white teeth a sharp contrast to the inky night. Her luminous watch indicated the time was 15 minutes past midnight. In another 15 minutes the demolition team would come over the west wall, and she must be there to greet them. She had crept from B Block 10 minutes ago, and now was poised at the foot of the stairs leading from the inner bank of the moat to the rampart. The wooden stairs were located a few feet south of the closed drawbridge. She cautiously climbed the steps, scanning the rampart, searching for the Warrior on duty. She knew Omega Triad was scheduled, and she expected to find Ares manning the west wall as was his custom.

A dark form moved to her right, directly over the drawbridge.

Farrow squinted. It was a Warrior, patrolling the rampart. But something was wrong. The figure wasn’t tall enough to be Ares. It was definitely a man, which ruled out Helen. And it lacked a hat, eliminating Sundance because he always wore a black sombrero.

So who the hell was it?

Farrow reached the top of the stairs and stopped, perplexed. The figure was gone! One instant it had been there, the next it had vanished! Had whoever it was seen her? Was he—

“Hello, Alicia.”

Farrow gripped the rail to keep from plunging into the moat. Her senses were swimming. Not. him! It couldn’t be him!

But it was.

Yama materialized beside her, his Wilkinson in his right hand. “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said softly. “You haven’t spoken a word to me all day.”

Farrow tried to speak but couldn’t. Her mouth refused to respond.

“What did I do to upset you?” Yama asked.

“What are yow doing here?” Farrow exclaimed.

“I have the night shift,” Yama responded.

“But Ares is supposed to be here,” Farrow asserted. “Omega Triad has wall duty tonight.”

“I know,” Yama said. “But Ares isn’t feeling too well. The Review Board cleared him, but he’s still upset. He’s been moping around B Block since it happened. I offered to fill in for him tonight.”

“Oh no!” Farrow said.

Yama moved closer. “What’s wrong? Did you want to see Ares?”

“No,” Farrow replied. “I expected him to be here, is all.”

“I don’t understand,” Yama stated. “You didn’t want to see Ares, but you expected him to be here?”

“Yeah,” Farrow said nervously. “I wanted some fresh air, so I climbed up here. I knew Ares was on duty, but I didn’t want to run into him. See?”

“Hmmmm,” was all Yama said.

Now what was she going to do? Farrow knew the demolition team would arrive at any minute. And the first thing they would do after scaling the wall would be to snuff Yama. Yama! He was a lowlife, but she still felt affection for him. The prospect of his death was profoundly upsetting.

“If you’d rather be alone, I’ll leave,” Yama offered.

“No!” Farrow blurted out. She frantically racked her brain for a solution. If she could get him off the wall! “Care to walk along the moat with me?”

“You know I can’t leave my post,” Yama said.

Farrow saw him look from side to side, then stare at her. She squirmed uncomfortably, emotionally distraught.

“Stay here,” Yama directed. He turned and moved to the middle of the rampart.

What was he doing?

“What are you doing?”

Yama didn’t answer. She heard a scratching sound, and a lantern abruptly lit up the central section of the rampart. Yama was next to the lantern, blowing on a match.

Farrow hurried over to the Warrior. “Why’d you do that?”

The lantern was suspended from an iron hook imbedded in the lip of the rampart, just below the strands of barbed wire encircling the entire walled compound. Its flickering light played over his silver hair and mustache as he slowly turned to face her. His blue eyes bored into her. “I wanted to see you clearly,” he said.

“But isn’t it dangerous,” she protested, “having the lantern on this way?

Anyone out there,” and she waved at the surrounding forest, “could see you.”

Yama shrugged. “I doubt anyone is out there. Few people would be abroad in the woods at night. It’s too hazardous.”

Farrow fidgeted, repeatedly glancing at the tree line.

“Is something wrong?” Yama asked.

“I’m fine!” Farrow responded, her tone edgy.

“Come with me,” Yama said. He took her by the left forearm and led her to the left, away from the lantern, to the stairs. He stopped on the upper step, both of them now shrouded in semi-darkness.

“What are you doing?” Farrow inquired.

“We’re going to stand here for a while and enjoy the night sky,” Yama told her.

Farrow tried to pull her arm free. “I’d like to go.”

“I’d imagine you would,” Yama said, his right hand a vise on her arm.

“You’re hurting me!” Farrow objected.

Yama’s right hand clamped tighter. “And how many innocent Family members did you intend to hurt?”

Farrow’s breath caught in her throat. “I… I… don’t know what you… mean,” she stammered.

“I think you do,” Yama stated. He released her arm and gazed at the area illuminated by the lantern. “How will they work it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Farrow cried.

Yama looked at her. “Keep your voice down!” he warned.

Farrow was chilled by the iciness of his tone. She sensed her world was coming apart at the seams, and she was panic-stricken.

“Did you take me for a complete imbecile?” Yama demanded in a hard whisper.

“I never—” she started to say.

“I will admit,” he said in a brittle, incriminating manner, “I was stupid enough to fall for your charade. I actually believed you cared for me! How dumb can I get!”

But I do! Farrow wanted to scream, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words. She was overwhelmed by the stunning realization she’d been wrong all along. He did really and truly like her!

“—but I couldn’t understand why you were so tormented,” Yama was telling her. “I tried to reason it out. I concocted a hundred and one excuses to justify your behavior.” He made a contemptuous sound. “I allowed myself to think you were troubled because of your affection for me! You didn’t want to commit yourself, knowing you would be returning to your own people! You already had someone special and didn’t want me to know!”

“I don’t have anyone—” Farrow mumbled, but he ignored her.

“And then today!” Yama said. “I see you at breakfast, and you won’t even look at me, let alone converse! Why? I asked myself again and again.

There was no rhyme or reason to the way you acted. I began to wonder if Plato and Rikki were right. They’ve been suspicious of you from the start, although Rikki gave you the benefit of the doubt. Before he left, Blade told us to keep an eye on you. Not to trust you.” He paused, his voice lowering sadly. “Not to trust you! And I went and developed deep affection for you!”

“But—” she began.

“And now you show up here! This late at night!” Yama cut her off.

“Why? I wondered. You were shocked to find me on duty. You wanted Ares to be here. Why? Because you knew I would suspect something was up.

Ares doesn’t know you as well as I do. He might accept your line about wanting fresh air. But I don’t!”

Farrow fought back an impulse to burst into tears. “Yama…”

“Shhhhh!” he cautioned her.

“Yama…”

Yama glanced at her, his face creased by lines of misery. “Don’t talk!”

“They’ll be using infrared goggles,” Farrow informed him. “They can see in the dark.”

Yama studied her for a second, then took her hand and pulled her down to the third step. He crouched and tugged on her hand. “Get down!”

Farrow squatted beside him. Their heads were now below the rampart and invisible to anyone scaling the west wall. “I’m sorry,” she said in his right ear. “I—

He placed his right hand over her mouth. “Not now. Later.”

Farrow stifled a sob. She felt utterly helpless, a prisoner of her own emotions, unable to intervene, bound by her duty as a Technic soldier on one hand, and her love for Yama on the other. She couldn’t violate her Technic oath, and she wouldn’t betray Yama. There was nothing she could do but ride it out and hope for the best.

Yama looked at her. “Thanks for letting me know about the goggles,” he whispered.

Farrow nodded, biting her lower lip. The demolition team would use a grappling hook and come over the northwest corner, where she was scheduled to meet them. What would Sergeant Darden do when they climbed the wall and discovered she wasn’t there? Abandon the mission?

Not very likely. Darden was dedicated. He would complete his assignment with or without her.

Yama had his left ear pressed to the top step, listening.

Farrow suddenly perceived the reason for the lantern. Yama was brilliant! Anyone coming over the wall would have a dilemma to resolve: what to do about the light? They could shoot out the lantern, but the Warriors would be alerted. They could circumvent the lighted portion of the rampart, but to do so would entail avoiding the stairs. And the stairs were the only means of reaching the inner bank, unless they dropped a line into the moat and swam across, a difficult proposition when carrying a backpack and field gear. No, the wisest recourse would be to leave the lantern alone, and attempt to reach the stairs undetected.

Only Yama was waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

Farrow tensed as a faint scuffing reached her ears. Was it Darden and the demolition team? She closed her eyes and performed an act she’d never done before; she prayed Darden would realize the lantern was a ruse and decide to abort the assignment.

Yama angled the Wilkinson barrel upward.

Her eyes now adjusted to the gloom, Farrow could distinguish Yama’s features. She wanted to reach out and tenderly caress his cheek, to let him know she was sorry for her stupidity. The turmoil in his tone had convinced her of his sincerity. There must be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the incident with the petite brunette. She would ask him about it when this was over.

There was a muffled thump from the northwest corner of the rampart.

Sergeant Darden and the demolition team had arrived!

Farrow could scarcely breathe, dreading the impending conflict, waiting for Yama to make his move. She clenched her hands until her nails bit into her palms.

Yama raised his ear from the first step.

Farrow knew whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon.

And she realized there was a chance Darden was aware someone was on the stairs. His ear amplifier might have detected Yama’s breathing, or hers for that matter. If Darden had, his squad would have their Dakons trained on the steps. They would shoot at anything that moved. Yama would be cut to ribbons.

Something nearby clicked.

Farrow suddenly reached out and grabbed Yama’s right arm. He glanced at her in surprise. “I love you,” she whispered, then, before he could move to stop her, she unexpectedly rose, facing the rampart. Facing Darden and the three members of his demolition team.

Sergeant Darden was nearest the lantern, perhaps four feet to its right.

Private Johnson, the loudmouth, was two feet from Darden. The one whose name she couldn’t remember came next, not six feet from the steps.

And Rundle, the plastics expert on the squad, was only two feet away, her Dakon II leveled, her finger on the trigger. She saw a shadowy form abruptly rise in front of her, and she instantly fired, the Dakon set on automatic.

Farrow was staggered by the impact. She felt an intense burning sensation in her chest, and she was flung across the stairs and against the opposite railing. Her left arm caught on the top rail, at the elbow, and she dangled limply with blood pouring from her wounds, her eyes riveted to the rampart, as Yama rose, his voice roaring a strangled “No!” as the Wilkinson chattered, and Private Rundle was smashed backward by the force of the slugs tearing into her body. Yama swiveled, and the unidentified trooper took several rounds in the face and was catapulted to the rampart. Sergeant Darden and Private Johnson opened up, but their target was already in motion, darting up the stairs and rolling across the rampart, coming erect near the lip, and the Wilkinson burped, slamming Private Johnson from his feet and hurling him over the edge and into the swirling moat below. Farrow saw Darden frantically pulling his Dakon’s trigger, and she recognized the gun was jammed. He dropped the Dakon and went for his automatic pistol. Farrow was amazed by what transpired next. She gaped as Yama tossed his own gun aside and rushed toward Darden, drawing his scimitar in a streaking, fluid blur. She could see the terrified expression on Darden’s face as he drew his automatic and tried to aim at the Warrior. But Yama was quicker, and he slashed the scimitar down, severing Darden’s gunhand from his arm. Darden opened his mouth to scream, and Yama flashed the scimitar crosswise, splitting Darden’s throat wide open, crimson gushing over the commando’s neck, and then Yama sliced the scimitar into Darden’s abdomen, once, twice, three times and tolled, and Darden’s intestines spilled over his pants and legs as he futilely clutched at his stomach. He slowly sank to the rampart, gurgling and spitting blood.

Yama glared at the fallen Technic for a second, then whirled and raced to the stairs.

Farrow tried to grin as he dashed up to her. “Nice,” she mumbled feebly. “Real… nice.”

Yama dropped the scimitar and took her in his arms. “Don’t talk!” he cautioned her. “Help is on the way! The Healers…”

“No,” Farrow said weakly. “Too late…”

“Don’t say that!” Yama said, his voice raspy.

“Need to know…” Farrow stated in a ragged whisper.

“What?” Yama asked, his face an inch from her.

“The girl… this morning…” Farrow managed 10 squeak.

“The girl? What girl?” Yama declared, perplexed, in anguish. “You mean Marian? My niece?”

“Niece?”

“My brother’s daughter,” Yama said. “What about her?”

Farrow eyes widened. “Your brother’s daughter…”

“I don’t see…” Yama began, then paused as an intuitive insight flooded his mind. “You didn’t think she and I…?”

Farrow mustered a smile. “Never… was too bright.” She coughed, blood smearing her lips and chin. “Kiss me. Please.”

Yama bent down and touched her lips with his own. He could taste the salty tang of her blood on his lips and tongue, and then she stiffened and gasped, expelling her dying breath into his mouth.

Yama felt his eyes moisten, and he buried his face against her left shoulder.

It was another minute before footsteps pounded on the stairs, and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi appeared, gleaming katana in his right hand. He reached the third step and paused, then proceeded to the rampart. Shouts and yells were mingling in the compound below. He scanned the bodies, then moved down to Yama’s side. “Yama?”

“Go away.” The voice was muffled by the fabric of Farrow’s shirt.

“Are you all right?”

Yama’s response, when he finally answered, was tinged by an immeasurable melancholy. “No. I’ll never be all right again.”