“The Joint Services Headquarters has no assets to contribute for that,” Morrison said.
Rodney spoke up. “Remember I told you about my friends out in that region? They’re all in reserve units. Access to lots of toys that just sit around gathering dust except in summer training. Do ’em good to get some use.” Morrison opened her mouth, but shut it again.
“You contact them,” Ky said to Rodney. “It’s your show and I hope we don’t need it.”
“The only problem we have left,” Teague said, as the patchwork of assets grew larger and more connected, “is a way to make their transports stop long enough for us to get the prisoners—survivors, sorry—out of the vehicles without their people killing them. Faking an accident is the usual way to block a road, but that takes more personnel and vehicles. And we’d have to do it again for each group.”
Inyatta held up her hand. “I can do that. Admiral Vatta’s given me responsibility for local response because I have relatives in that area. They know people… if you’d trust me to tell them and get them involved.”
“It’d be dangerous for them,” Rafe said.
“They wouldn’t mind that,” Inyatta said. “They’ll want to help. And so will their neighbors, at least some of them.”
“Do you have any idea how it might work?” Teague still sounded dubious.
“It’s Inyatta’s call,” Ky said. “You don’t need to know. Our drivers will know what to expect, as soon as we have better intel on the trucks or ambulances they’re using.”
“The group from Clemmander will be first,” Morrison said. “Then the one coming in from coastward.”
Rodney and Teague moved markers around on the terrain display, each one colored for a particular group.
Hours later, tired and hungry, the group had a plan both Ky and Teague thought was workable, with branches to allow for the unexpected. Inyatta, Barash, and Kamat, with Morrison’s approval and assistance, had overcome Ky’s reservations about having them part of the actual rescue.
“They can return with me and the first group,” Morrison said. “You’ll be with them, and then I will.”
“If nobody shoots at the plane,” Ky said.
“You told Rodney to take care of that,” Morrison said.
Ky laughed. “So I did. And he will.”
Now they needed to fill all the blank slots in the personnel chart, but Morrison was sure she could find reliable medical assistance and had enough special troops. Ky looked at the terrain map again and again, zooming in and out, jotting down notes for ever more ways to react depending on what happened. She knew she could not possibly anticipate everything—but the more she did anticipate, the better their chances for getting everyone out alive.
Morrison spent the night in the house, and rode into town with Stella in the morning. Ky, watching from her vantage point in the front of the house, saw that the neighbor across the street was strolling around his front yard, poking a stick into flower beds, but in a perfect position to notice how many people were in each of the cars that led or followed Stella. Ky noticed several quick, upward glances toward the window where she stood. Altogether too nosy a neighbor, and she wondered again why Stella didn’t seem worried about him.
She’d spoken to Stella about the coming operation—that if they had to leave suddenly, she wouldn’t call at the time, for security reasons.
“Are the others going with you?” Stella’d asked.
“Probably not, but they might. I’d rather not risk them, but they want to come.”
“But not tomorrow—”
“I don’t think so. More likely a day or two more. We could use the time.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sera Lane had a smile on her face when she entered the house an hour later than usual. “Progress,” she said.
“How much?” Rafe asked, brows raised.
“The arrest warrant for Sera Ky—the one relating to her citizenship—has been canceled. There was considerable pressure to arrest her from someone higher up, but I kept pushing until I found out the undersecretary had been told some rather inventive lies about her and her fiancé. The petition from the Tik Growers’ Association in her favor didn’t hurt, either.”
“Tik Growers’ Association?” Ky scowled. Her father had been a member, well liked because he sponsored apprenticeships, but she’d worked only one day in the packing sheds, herself.
“They had made a plaque to present to you for saving everyone from the pirate horde—that’s what they called it—and brought it to the spaceport the day you were due to arrive, last spring. Apparently they were not willing to accept that you’d died, and when you returned they were planning a reception and dinner for you. When they found out you were considered an undesirable alien and a murderer, they protested to the President’s Council and to Immigration.” Her grin widened. “It doesn’t hurt that the Tik Growers’ Association is a major contributor to the majority party.”
“So I can go out?”
“I’m still negotiating with the police to remove their surveillance of this house. With your citizenship in the process of being restored—you have a court date in fifteen days; I will accompany you—they’re less likely to haul you in, especially as I pointed out that their prosecutor needed to have actual evidence of murder, which meant getting it from the military and interviewing witnesses. I said we had a witness of good character, competent and believable, who would testify to self-defense, and in the meantime they had no reason to arrest you or hinder your movements. They weren’t ready to agree to that right away, so I’ve called someone else. I expect we’ll hear more good news by suppertime or shortly after. You are not to talk to anyone about that until I say so, is that clear?”
“Yes, Sera,” Ky said.
“On the topic of your fiancé and his associate, things are still in a knot. My understanding, from talking to both the young men and the Rector, is that she thought she had sent in a visa extension form citing a special need for their presence. That form was not received, and her poisoning meant she was not at her address—the official address of the young men—when they sent someone to look. She may or may not have sent it; what matters is it was not received. Personally, I suspect that the same person who pushed Immigration to move on your citizenship status also pushed to have them deported immediately, but since I don’t know who that is, I have no proof. Right now, they are still on the list for detention and deportation.”
“But—” Ky began and then stopped. Sera Lane raised her eyebrows. “Never mind,” Ky said. “Thank you for all your hard work. I hope I’ll be able to leave the house soon.”
“Leave the house, I’m sure of. Leave the city—I would not advise that. And definitely, if you leave the planet before regularizing your citizenship status, you will lose it.”
Ky looked at Rafe—he was blank-faced, and Teague the same. Sera Lane nodded and went into the dining room, where she had her temporary office set up. Ky went downstairs with Rafe and Teague, and continued working on prepping for the mission. The lists lengthened even as more items were checked off.
A few hours later, the call Sera Lane had been waiting for came through, and a Vatta courier arrived with temporary citizenship identification for Ky. “That’s the most I can do for you today,” Lane said. “You will not be arrested if you leave the house. You should be able to visit family members outside the city—your aunt in Corleigh, for instance—without hindrance. Your great-aunt Grace would like to see you, if you feel up to it.”
“Could you give me a ride partway?”
“The whole way if you like.”