Driving into the city had gone about the same way as you would expect driving into the blasted, destroyed, rubble-reduced ruins of a city filled with enemy soldiers to go. It was slow going. For every street we had found that was technically navigable, we had passed more than a dozen that weren't. On a few separate occasions, we'd been forced to reverse down the section we had come after finding a road blocked with rubble, cratered beyond use, or obstructed by the burned-out shell of a Russian tank.
Technically, it would have been easier and quicker to walk, but considering the number of landmines we drove over, the amount of bullets that pinged off the windshield, and the amount of soldiers on both sides who hadn't gotten the message that we were allowed to be there, it was certainly safer to stay in the car.
To be fair, the shield I had put around the car was strong enough for an extended stay inside the core of the sun. No amount of RPG rockets, armor-piercing rounds, or hastily thrown grenades were even going to scratch the paintwork, but they still made Bob feel uneasy.
The rest of our escorts were still acting like this was just another day at the office.
The routine became painfully predictable, and it was the "not pretty" part of the plan that had gotten us here. Col. Toptonov had followed his orders to the letter and had halted the artillery bombardment of the city; he had also contacted as many of the local ground forces as possible to tell them that we would be in the area, too.
Those
people let us pass with little more than a curious glance. It was the people who didn't have radios that were the problem. Judging from the sheer number of them, it was safe to say that the Russian army was having a severe radio communication problem.
Soldiers would pop their heads out from upper floor windows, see us coming, and - with no information to the contrary - would assume we were hostile and open up on us. After the two hundredth time, I gave up counting how many minds I had infiltrated to convince our attackers that we were friendly. In the end, I got sick of it and just pulsed out a single blanket statement that all human minds would be affected by. The SUV and the people inside it were not to be attacked.
Yes, it was a risk. There was a distinct possibility that the same message being used to ease our passage was also alerting any local Inquisitors or Evos to our location as well. We were still operating on the assumption that those sorts of powers could be tracked. But that had to be measured against the fact that all of the gunfire, explosions, and calls to arms were very quickly being silenced in a very un-combat-like manner. That on its own would have been more than enough to pique the interest of the people able to track us, not to mention that doing hundreds of those small manipulations
had
to be no different than a single large one.
Either way, the rest of our journey was... well, it wasn't really any different. We were still trying to drive around shell holes and the crumbled remains of once-proud buildings; we were just doing it without being shot at.
"
Hey, Pete,"
Jerry's voice echoed in my head. I had forgotten that he had an almost limitless ability to contact me while his well was filled with the power I had topped him up with. "
How's it going? Did you find anything in Av... Avel... Avan... in that place Bob mentioned?"
Fuck!
"Hey, Jerry. Nothing to report yet. We still haven't found any sign of Bob's people."
I answered back cryptically, trying to keep the suspicion out of my voice before changing the subject. The realization that he may have been there as nothing more than a mole for Uri was something that I
hadn't
forgotten about. The fact he had been so quick to go off with Henry didn't make any sense at all, if that was his plan, but... I don't know... maybe he just hadn't thought it through. It was entirely possible that Jerry wasn't in on Uri's plans at all, and I was implying his guilt through nothing more than association. "
How is Henry doing?"
"That is what I was contacting you about,"
he answered, his voice sounding like he was smiling despite the very obvious flaws in thinking that when his voice was literally in my head and not subject to the shape of his lips. "
That's one tough son-of-a-bitch. Thirty-four hours in surgery, but it looks like he's going to pull through. The docs aren't sure about his ability to speak, but they think he should be able to swallow and... well... not bleed to death. So, something for you to pass onto the boys from us."
"That's great news,"
I sighed in relief. Despite everything else that had happened and what I had learned in the time since Jerry's departure with Henry, the escort commander's favorable prognosis really was good to hear.
"I will let them know."
There was a pause in his voice.
"Is.. um... is everything okay? You sound a bit... distracted."
"Sorry, man, we're trying to dodge some Russians at the moment,"
I answered half honestly.
"The fuckers are everywhere."
"Ah, yeah, fair enough. Look, there has been no word left from Uri or Marco. I've checked in with Fiona, and she hasn't heard anything either. She told me to say hello, by the way, Charlotte, too. But anyway, I think we may have to go looking for them if they don't check in soon."
I clamped down hard on the growl in my stomach. Fiona was still with Charlotte and was very much under suspicion. Jerry was no different, but at least he was out of the fight for a short time. Still, my suspicion wasn't letting me see his fairly explainable observation as anything other than an attempt to lure me into another trap.
The coil of anger was starting to churn again. It could feel an opportunity to lash out at the enemy presenting itself, and the foundations of a plan started to build in my mind.
"Alright, Jerry. We need to finish up here, and then we will be returning to base. We will come up with a plan when I get there and then go looking for them. Fucking Uri!"
