Payback

33

Lia silently berated herself before rolling down the window. This wasn’t the result of some random twist of fate; she’d gotten sloppy, not paid enough attention to her surroundings.

The flashlight banged again. Lia reached to the manual crank at the side of the door, pulling down the window.

“_¿Sí?” she said.

“What are you doing?” demanded a soldier. He shone the light into her face.

“I was thinking,” she said.

“Thinking?”

Apparently this was the most preposterous answer the man could imagine, because he demanded she get out of the car.

“Lia, tell him you’re with the UN,” said Telach over the communications system. “Let’s not fool around. He has no right to detain you — there is no curfew.”

“I had a fight with my husband,” Lia told the soldier. “I–I can’t stand him anymore. He’s a cheating slime.”

“Where’s your wedding band?”

“I threw it into the sea where it belongs.” Lia practically spit the words. She grabbed at the door, missing once, then getting the latch, and stepped from the car. “He’s a lying slime,” she said. “I caught him with his secretary. I’m sure there have been others. Men — they are all slime. Are you married? Do you cheat on your wife?”

One of the Art Room translators tried to correct her pronunciation, but she was on her own now, completely on her own. Anger welled up inside her — that part wasn’t an act. She seemed to have an endless supply of it. Her whole body grew warm as she complained and cursed her supposed philanderer of a husband.

“I hate him. If it weren’t for my children I would kill myself,” said Lia. She slammed her hand on the roof of the car, seemingly out of control. At the same time, she scanned the area, counting the soldiers, gauging exactly how convincing she had to be. She had a small Glock at her belt and another near her ankle.

Four other men, in the roadway. They all had M16s.

She could shoot her way out if she had to, but it wouldn’t be easy and it would complicate things immensely.

The soldier who had banged on her window didn’t know exactly what to do. “Calm down, miss,” he said, then corrected himself. “Ma’am.”

“Miss, yes — alone. Men are pigs — lying, cheating pigs. They take what you have and then where are you?”

Lia held her hands out, trembling.

Another soldier came over — an officer. “Why are you not with your children?” he said. “Go home to them. All men are not like your husband. He’s a dog, but you must make the best of it — for your children.”

“My mother came to watch them.” Lia looked at him. Something in his face told her he was skeptical, that he didn’t believe her. It reminded her of the Korean officer, the man who had raped her.

Then, she had met the look with scom.

She didn’t have that in her anymore.

“I can’t face them,” she cried, grabbing the officer’s arms. And she really did begin to cry.

The officer pushed her back against the car. The gesture began harshly, but then weakened, and as he held her there Lia could see that there was compassion in his face.

“Go home,” he told her gently. “That is where you belong. There are patrols throughout the city tonight. You will only end up finding trouble. Your children need you.”

Lia nodded. Silently, she got into the car and started it.

“Academy Award performance,” said Rockman as she drove away. “You’re smokin’ tonight.”

For some reason, she felt insulted, as if she’d been accused of lying.