Page 25 of V-Day
His mouth parted and his eyes widened. Then everything closed over. He shut down on her. She could see him doing it. “We don’t have time for this—”
“Coward!” she hissed. “We’re standing here twiddling our thumbs whileshetalks to the President.”
He jerked, as if she had slapped him and whirled to face her. She saw anger in his eyes. His jaw worked. “You think I give adamnabout your skin or your nationality? I didn’t even know if you were a woman! Iguessed! You really think any of it would stop me lo—”
His jaw snapped shut. He turned his head away.
Chloe’s heart lurched. With no thought or decision, she pressed herself against his tense figure, turned his chin so she could reach his lips. She kissed him.
Touching him this way was everything she expected it to be. He was strong, solid, heated. He was, in person, the same pillar of rock who had held her life together for years now, with his calm counsel and wisdom. He had been there for her, above and beyond any help the rest of the Group had given her.
The very first time he had reached out to her via a private back channel in the Group, he had been this way. He had advised her to seriously consider converting her lucrative, underground hacking venture into a legitimate business which would withstand world scrutiny.
Everyone in the Group had said something similar, after she had reported on the near-miss raid on her apartment by a local gang, who objected to her not cutting them in on her profits.
Only, when Shadow had urged her to consider it, she had. He had been right, too. It had taken her nearly a year to set herself up as a legitimate person with a real business and an actual permanent address—even though it had been a post office box. Terrified at exposing herself that way, Chloe had clung to the Group, finding comfort and courage in their presence but most especially in Shadow’s.
Her world had steadied from its elliptical, erratic wobbling, to spin smoothly, thanks to him.
When the Vistarian war broke out and at the same time, Shadow went off the air, Chloe already knew who he was and that the timing was not coincidental. She had taken steps to learn his real name and location not long after their first direct conversation, although she had never pushed deeper than that.
For two days she worried. Then she took an unprecedented step, one which would scare the rest of the Group, if they knew.
She contacted Cristián directly, via normal channels, as herself. No masks, no handles, no nicknames. No Group safety net.
Knowing he might be in a precarious position and unable to answer, she sent a single unsigned email. She masked her IP address and bounced the email through thirty-two servers before guiding it to his.
Babylon is worried. Any sign will do.
Silence. Nothing for another week, while Chloe lost all interest in her work, clients and deadlines. Even the rising balance in her perfectly normal cheque account no longer thrilled her.
A single message came from the void, as armor coated as hers had been.
Need breathing room. Talking to me might bring them to you. Shadow.
He didn’t need to explain further. Chloe had been following the news from Vistaria through a dozen different feeds and sites and knew as much as anyone about the minutiae of the war. Cristián’s family were tied to the Loyalists. They were vulnerable, sitting in Pascuallita, a stone’s throw from the base the Insurrectos had taken.
He was afraid talking to her would bring the Insurrectos down upon her. Reaching out to anyone might send out an electronic signal the Insurrectos would spot and investigate and lead them back to Cristián and the family he was protecting.
He was trying to stay normal and unnoticeable in a world at war, which was far more challenging than the average world the rest of the Group faced.
Chloe chafed for another three days, fuming about her inability to help, worrying about him. Shadow would chide her for using up mental juice on a situation which was unchangeable.
What if itwaschangeable, though? She was smart. She knew computers. What could she change which would make it okay to reach out to him?
Chloe developed the principals which were the foundation ofHarry’s Cloak, her masking app, over the next few days. They were ugly and raw and would take weeks of refining, yet they were enough for her to reach out to Cristián.
She had trembled as she hit send on her first message.
I’m safe to talk to now.
Chloe.
Cristián’s response took five minutes to return. Three of those would have been taken up by her clunky app installing itself on his network.
You and no one else. Thank god you’re there. Thank you.
Beneath, he signed, simply,
