The Complete Razia Series, page 43
"Afraid of heights?"
"Well, that is surprising!"
"Oh, no, she's going to fall outta da ship and break her nail!"
Razia's eyes narrowed into an icy glare directed at Sage, who didn't even flinch. Tossing him a rude gesture, she marched over to the open hatch.
"Razia, I mean it," Sage warned, nerves in his voice as she moved closer to the edge of the ship. "Get over here."
"Yeah, go get strapped in,” Ganon smirked at her. "You don’t wanna fall."
Razia narrowed her eyes.
"Lyssa," Sage said warningly. "Don't you dare—"
She didn't hear the rest of what he said, as she flipped off her helmet microphone effectively silencing him. He let loose a silent diatribe that she was sure was full of colorful curses, his breath fogging the front of his helmet.
She smirked at him, then leaned backwards and fell out of the ship…
…immediately regretting her decision.
Everything was quiet as she floated for a moment, except for her own panicked breathing and the similarly panicked voice in her head. As the seconds ticked by, she was speeding up, based on the way the sky and the ship were spinning, and sickness rose in her throat from fear and dizziness. As she spun faster, black dots speckled her vision, and her panicked internal voice began to worry that her helmet wasn't completely attached, that maybe she was suffocating. She wanted to rip off her helmet so she could take a deep breath.
How long had she been falling at this point?
Was she coming in too fast?
If she pulled her parachute, would she snap her neck?
The black dots turned into a tunnel vision as everything grew hazy…
She was back in Leveman's Vortex, standing in front of the Arch as the ground disintegrated beneath her feet. This was what it felt like. She may already be dead and falling to Plethegon.
Funny, she thought it would be warmer to be burned alive—
She came back to herself as a hand grabbed her arm, and a firm body pressed against her back. A hand roughly threaded her arm into a strap, and then another hand did the same to her other arm. Then, more gently, the hand gently intertwined with her fingers, pulling her hands outward and upward. The air was growing thicker around her and her legs hitched upwards, aligning to his legs as the extra fabric pooled out around them, slowing them down further. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as she pressed against him and her panic quieted enough for her to crack open her eyes.
It was absolutely beautiful.
She felt open and exposed as they floated but was completely unafraid. She leaned back into him, comforted by his presence behind her.
His arms left their spot behind hers and one arm snaked around her waist, holding her tight to him. She saw the parachute deploy behind them, and they slowed down even further. She leaned into his arm around her waist. His other arm came to join it, securing her tight to him.
The world was closer now, and she could see the buildings, although she realized she had no idea which building they were targeting. Shame began to flood her cheeks, and she was grateful that he couldn't see. She couldn't believe she'd gone off on that kind of panic-induced crazy, one that quite possibly could have gotten her killed.
To think she'd worried that she was already dead, going to Plethegon. She'd already dealt with that, hadn't she? She was a good soul…wasn't she?
She became acutely aware that the two arms around her were uncomfortably tight, pressing her against a taught chest that was heaving heavily. She could feel the vibrations through the thin fabric of the suits, and was glad her microphone was switched off. She really didn't want to hear what he had to say.
Unfortunately, he realized she couldn't hear him, and he flipped the switch on her helmet.
"Can you hear me now, you stupid idiot?" He screamed through the speaker in her ear. "What is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with you?" she mumbled, grateful that he was behind her and couldn't see the embarrassment on her face. It was bad enough that Sage thought she needed to jump with him, but the fact that he just saved her—it was mortifying.
"I mean, I can't even, you are—the depths of your idiocy!" he continued, so angry that he was unable to form coherent sentences. He continued yelling at her as they landed atop one of the tall buildings that had once been a small dot but was now a behemoth of a tower.
He angrily unhooked her from him and she stumbled forward, unable to keep her balance on the gravel rooftop. He ripped off his helmet, his eyes wild with fury and his face bright red.
"Don't you ever, ever do that again," he bellowed, his voice echoing off of the rooftops.
"I think I handled it fine," she replied, meek compared to him.
"Fine. Fine?" he exclaimed. "Fine?"
Ganon and Lizbeth landed on the roof next to them, and Ganon pulled off his helmet. "Okay, guys, keep it down. We don't want to—"
"I don't recall telling you to help me," Razia snapped, becoming more confident in the presence of others.
"Oh, here we go!" Sage threw up his hands. "I save your life and—"
"You didn't save my life," Razia spat back. "I would have—"
"Splattered on the ground like a damned bug," Sage growled, getting in her face.
"Not to break up this little—" Ganon started.
"Shut up!" they hissed at him in unison.
"Your ego is going to get you killed one day!"
"Get sucked, asshole!"
"Seriously," Lizbeth said, stepping between Razia and Sage before they came to blows. "We just jumped out of space and made a spectacular landing on top of this building. Everybody's okay and in one piece. So how's about we not blow this entire operation because you two need to just screw already?"
Razia's eyes grew to the size of saucers and Sage turned five shades of red.
"I would never—"
"S-screw?"
"That's what I thought," Lizbeth said, walking back over to Ganon, who was watching in gleeful humor. "Lead the way."
***
There were over a hundred floors in this archive skyscraper, the same as the rest of the buildings in this sector. Ganon had stayed behind on the top floor to keep a look-out for the inevitable security detail that was going to arrive, while Sage and the two girls took the lift (after he had deactivated the security sensors on the elevator). The journey was silent—Sage refusing to even look at Razia, and she him. Lizbeth seemed to be the only one actually enjoying herself.
Once they got onto the seventh floor, Sage disarmed the cameras using a robotic spider-like jammer that attached itself to the four cameras in the hallway. Razia and Lizbeth crept behind him, as he coordinated with Sobal on the other end of his mini-computer.
"Well I don't know, Sobal. That's your job, isn't it?" Sage snapped. Razia heard a muffled response on the other end and then the sound of electricity shutting off. The vast room in front of them went completely dark.
"All right. We've got about an hour until company shows up," Sage said, handing the two of them flashlights. "So hurry it up."
"You start on that side; I'll start over here," Lizbeth said, opening a nearby filing cabinet. "Start looking for row fifty-two."
Razia began walking down the aisles of filing cabinets, her eyes drifting over the numbers on the front as her flashlight drifted over them.
598-78-2-7-1-9-1
1905180114141005040409040918
583-78-2-7-1-9-2
1905180114141005050405180108
583-78-2-7-1-9-3
1905180114141005131301011414
She paused at a filing cabinet and opened it up, shocked to see it only half-full. She reached in and pulled out the first hanging folder, reading the first page:
SERANN, JEDDIDIAH
1905180114141005040409040918
TIME OF TRANSACTION
LOCATION
AMOUNT
UT20015-03-99-90:45
Brandon Supplies
C-2779
5000C
UT20015-03-99-70:60
Jules Cafe
D-378469
50C
UT20015-03-99-65:12
Junior's Finery
M-424235
60C
The name wasn't familiar, but the surname was. She opened the file cabinet above and found Serann, Jemma-Anne, probably another cousin she never heard of. Below, Serann, Morgan.
"OVER HERE!" Lizbeth called. "Found them!"
Razia jogged over to where Lizbeth was counting through the cabinets in row fifty-two. Sage was standing over her with the flashlight as she quickly opened the top cabinet.
"Like I said," Lizbeth grinned, flipping through the cabinets, "the bank manager gave us the exact coordinates."
"Hmm," Lyssa said, opening the cabinet closest to her and pulling out the first folder.
PEATE, JINJINA
1605012005100914101914010000
TIME OF TRANSACTION
LOCATION
AMOUNT
UT20015-03-95-15:98
Ellie's Hair Extensions
D-2669
4000C
UT20015-03-85-36:02
Courtney Beauty Products
C-4747
750C
UT20015-03-60-74:51
Natalie's Workout Wear
K-3846
9000C
Razia hated her sister Jinjina—nothing but a bimbo baby-maker. She put the file back and opened the cabinet directly below, pulling out the first file again. Immediately, she saw a familiar name.
PEATE, LYSSANDRA
1605012005122519190114041801
TIME OF TRANSACTION
LOCATION
AMOUNT
UT20015-03-99-10:90
Mintxo Docking
D-882
20000C
UT20015-03-95-42:61
Bulgogov Diner
F-835
50C
UT20015-03-95-42:40
Refueling Station
F-835
100000C
She stared at her own transactions for a moment, trying to remember what she had been doing at the time. She might have been hunting Guido Tedesco or some other pirate. But seeing her name next to D-882 was a little concerning. It would be so easy to track her if some pirate knew to look at Lyssa Peate's transactions. It was one thing to simply slide her C-card; it was quite another to see it in black and white like this.
"What'd you find?" Sage asked, still holding the flashlight for Lizbeth.
"Found mine," Razia said.
She went to close the drawer and stopped. Since she was here, maybe she could solve a little mystery. She wasn't even sure that she'd find her inheritance—it may have been a separate account—but she had to try.
Thumbing through the files, she pulled out a folder every few pages to see what year she had landed on. There were at least three years' worth of transactions here; at least, that's how long she'd been using her own C-card account. Before she graduated from the Academy, she was using a minor card and funds from her family's account.
Pushing all of the files to the end of the cabinet, she pulled out the very first folder in her file and opened it up.
"All right, jackass, where's my money?" Razia said, flipping to the very last page, the first set of account activity after she received full control of her bank account.
PEATE, LYSSANDRA
1605012005122519190114041801
TIME OF TRANSACTION
LOCATION
AMOUNT
UT20012-05-12-45:12
TRANSFER TO // MCDOUGALL, JOHN
5,000,000,000C
UT20012-05-01-00:00
TRANSFER FROM // PEATE, ELEONORA SERANN
5,000,000,000C
"What in Leveman's?" Razia wondered aloud. "Who in Leveman's Vortex is John McDougall?"
"The Congressional Minister?" Sage said, looking up at her.
"Who's that?" Razia blinked.
"He's the leader of Congress," Lizbeth said. "Part of the President's cabinet. Why do you ask?"
"So why was my inheritance transferred to…." Her heart stopped beating in her chest as she looked down at the paper in front of her. Or more specifically, the date.
She'd never forget that date.
"Lyss?" Sage said, watching the color drain from her face. "What is it?"
"Jukin…he…" she whispered, the file dropping from her hands.
"Lyssa," Sage hurried over to her, "what is it?"
"He stole my inheritance," she stammered, suddenly unable to breathe. "Jukin…he stole it…and he…paid the Congressional Minister off to…"
"To what?"
"Kill Tauron."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The words echoed in the quiet room and in her mind.
She'd always known Jukin had paid off some high ranking official, but she always assumed it was his own money or that maybe he borrowed it from their mother. She never in a million years thought that it would be her money.
But of course it was her money.
She took a step back, and her chest constricted as breathing became difficult. She felt the coolness of the metal filing cabinet against her back, and it felt like her entire body had slipped into an ice bath.
Tauron's death was paid for with her money.
She was responsible.
If she'd just known about her inheritance, maybe she could have kept him from taking it.
But she didn't, and Tauron was dead, and it was her fault.
Everything was always her fault.
"You were born."
That's what her mother had said, wasn't it?
Maybe if she hadn't been born, Tauron would still be alive.
After all, if she never existed, there never would have been an inheritance available for Jukin to steal.
Sostas would have picked Jukin to be his assistant, and Jukin never would have decided to become a U-POL officer.
Fever rushed to her cheeks as the room heated up around her and she felt a rumble beneath her feet. She breathed in the pungent odor of sulfur, so familiar at this point, so warranted. Maybe the Great Creator was here to take her back to Leveman's Vortex.
She deserved to burn in Plethegon, after all.
Someone had grabbed her by the arms and yanked her hard to the floor as lights danced in front of her face. She could see Sage talking to her, but she was unable to hear anything but muffled words. Something about the bank's security arriving faster than he anticipated.
He was looking at her. How could he look at her?
Tauron raised him. The crew was his family.
She was the reason why all of that was taken from him.
Sage was pulling her across the room, she guessed, but her whole body was numb. He was talking, but all she could hear was the terrible voice in her head—the one which had been quiet for so long, the hateful voice that was telling her that she was a bad, evil soul damned to burn in Plethegon, no matter what Vel might think.
The sulfur smell was so strong that she began coughing. Her eyes widened as the ground rumbled beneath her, and she knew she was going to see cracks soon. Her eyes began to water either out of fear or pain or because of the thick smoke that was filling her lungs. The ground rumbled again, and someone had pressed her against a cold metal cabinet.
She could hear yelling, something about coming out with their hands up.
She should just go turn herself in and let them shoot her.
She could feel a tug on her shirt and saw a pair of wide, green, almond-shaped eyes, filled with fear and worry. Lizbeth was talking to her, but she couldn't process the words. Ganon had rejoined them as well, his dark skin even darker from soot and ash. He was talking to someone behind her.
A flash of light filled her vision and someone grabbed her and pushed her downwards. She banged her head on the floor, and her mind snapped back into full speed.
They had been caught by the Universal Bank security forces, who had swarmed on the roof and in the stairways, effectively blocking their exit. The security forces were lobbing flash bombs and gas canisters into the room to try and smoke them out—or worse.
"Shit, these dicks don't play around!" Ganon said as another flash bomb went off over their heads. "We need to bail now."
"How are we going to get out of here?" Lizbeth said. "They've got us surrounded!"
"We've gotten out of worse scrapes than this." Razia finally registered that the weight she had been feeling on her back was not psychological, but Sage, who had thrown a protective arm around her shoulders.
"Get off," she mumbled, shoving him off.
"Fifteen armed guards with more on their way," Sage said, pulling out his mini-computer. "Hey, you bastards, when are you planning to get us out of here?"
"Working on it, boss!" came the voice on the other end.
"You still got that extraction magnet?" Sage asked, tugging at her utility belt until his fingers clasped around the magnet. He tugged at it several times to make sure it was secure around her waist.
"Oh Leveman's, not again." Her words were drowned out by the sound of a huge, building-rocking explosion. When the smoke cleared, there was a giant hole in the outer wall, gaping to the outside.
"Go!" Ganon cried, half-dragging Lizbeth towards the hole.
Razia let out a cry of despair as Sage pulled her by her arm towards the hole. And as much as she didn't want to, she followed him past the ledge, dropping like a stone.
Before she even had time to think, she heard the click of the magnet against the line that had fallen from Sage's ship, hovering above.
"I thought you said you couldn't get the ship through the radars," Lizbeth cried, clinging with both arms and legs to Ganon, who didn't look too upset to be in that position.
