Duality

[Natalie Grey]

“No,” was all she said. Not a terrible plan in usual circumstances, but at best it would take too long, and at worst her family’s name was little more than a liability for now. Her mother had shifted mountains to extract her from Sierra Leone while her grandfather’s hands remained publically tied, and his contact now reeked of political pressure. She was in trouble, most certainly; but more than that, having failed to return Jay into Custody possession, the onus would fall on him as DVII’s Patron to correct the omission and reassure loyalty. What action it might push him to she was unsure, the message from his office still quite purposefully unacknowledged, but it was a complication they didn’t need to invite early by announcing their location. Not that Jay was aware of any of that, of course. “I haven’t spoken to them since the flight out here. It’s probably best my name doesn’t flag up anywhere until after this is finished. Or yours.”
 
She didn’t choose to elaborate. If Jay really thought Brandon would sanction assasination for the reasons he’d said, they wouldn’t still be running. But she didn’t correct the lie he told himself. Negotiating passage south risked playing by rules they’d already cast to the wind, but it wasn’t just that making her reluctant.

She never allowed herself to finish the thought, though.

Jay leaned to peer past the cars lined up ahead, and though Natalie followed his gaze she did not pull in the power it would take to see or hear what he described. The narration was enough. She’d told him in passing what little Jensen had shared of Jessika’s plans, and given the woman’s chosen bedfellow the prospect of violence in order to secure the joint territory was not especially surprising -- if unwelcome. 

The convoy sped by in a wail of sirens. Ahead, cars were being turned aside, jamming the road. Their timing couldn’t be worse, but the precariousness had to offer some kind of advantage.

Jay’s stark reminder of Africa intruded like a chill scraped right along the bone, unexpectedly potent, perhaps because her mind had been so far away from the past. Her narrowed gaze, which had been contemplating the border crossing, pierced sickeningly inwards instead, but it was the embassy steps she remembered; how her heart had pounded the way it suddenly did now. Alone, the power failed her; left her for dead in the collapsed and burning foyer, and though much had changed since then it was all remarkably untested. She massaged the insides of her scarred wrists as she got out of the truck. “I guess we’ll see.”

She was human, and fear pinched harder than she anticipated in the wake of his warning; a reality she hadn’t chosen to confront, and a fear she hadn’t allowed herself to realise. Natalie wasn’t a soldier; she had never pretended to be. Her jaw hardened, though she predictably said little. She glanced at another dent left in yet another car bonnet, but she didn’t comment on the frustration, or the ugly rear of his temper either.

Now toss a bomb into the middle of it. What do you think will happen?

“Do you think it’s you or me who’s the bad luck?” Her words were dry as the landscape, and she didn’t seek an answer, not least because she didn’t believe in luck. Her pale gaze took in the problem ahead as she reached to knot her hair behind her head. Anxiety was neatly hidden beneath the mask of her expression. She followed, her fingers reaching to press against his, just a light and fleeting touch, the sweep of her thumb against his like a touchstone. She rather doubted he would find any comfort in that; he pulled away more often than he didn’t, but it steadied her against the sense of walking into the fire rather than escaping from it. There was no one to rescue at the end of it this time, but she knew why she was here. Even as they headed closer to the centre of this storm, she wouldn’t forget it.

“Stupid things you shouldn’t be considering include exacerbating this, Jay. How many of those men end up dying just to facilitate a diversion?” He’d find her expression set in steel, stubborn, and expecting him to bite back. But she wouldn’t allow him to add that burden to either of their shoulders in pursuit of vengeance -- to flirt with sparking a civil war. That would not be Cayli’s legacy, Natalie would assure it. Neither was she Jacques Danjou, to accept any means to the desired end. Jay had been there at the refinery. She wouldn’t bend for this.

But shouts already grew like sparks on dry kindling. The power drew in with a breath, and suddenly the sound up ahead was shrill. She flinched at the first peppering of gunfire from the soldiers.