Free Warden: A Novel by Gregg Vann Page B

were,” Barent replied. “I just want you to stay back and cover me while I check it out.”
    He stepped forward to examine the hatch, searching for markings or other clues about what lay beyond it. As he did so, Barent addressed Tana in a calm and level voice.
    “You know, I’ve always been pretty good at judging people. And during my time among the prisoners, I got even better at it. Some of them appeared harmless, but were actually brutal and sadistic killers, and the grizzled, scar-faced hard-assess doing their best to intimidate everyone were often weak in a fight—frequently ending up dead. When I look at you, Tana, I can tell that you’ve killed before. I know you’re dangerous. But even beyond my intuition, common sense says you’d have to be pretty damn good if the Wardens chose you to infiltrate a heavily guarded compound and set me free. So you can relax, thief , I know just how proficient you are.”
    And then Sergeant Barent turned around and gave her a wry smirk.
    “But just remember, I’m still in charge.”
    Tana readied a response, but realized it wasn’t necessary. It seemed that Sergeant Barent really did understand her, or at the very least, acknowledged her capabilities. And the thief jab had come out as a good-natured tease, not an insult. But as to whether or not he should be the one in charge…
    Well, he certainly has more experience than I do. That’s for damn sure.
    Barent turned his attention back to the hatch, leaning in close as he attempted to peer through the sliver of light surrounding it. But it was no use; he couldn’t see anything beyond it. He eventually gave up and placed his ear against the metal, listening closely for a few moments in hopes of gleaning clues from noises on the other side. When that proved fruitless as well, Barent decided there was nothing left to do but just go ahead and push it open, and hope they didn’t find any enemies waiting there to ambush them.
    The hatch resisted Barent’s first attempt, but then he found a tiny release latch on the bottom and depressed it. He heard a muffled pop as it cracked partially open, and then the light framing the outer edges started to grow brighter—almost incandescent in brilliance. Barent froze as a strong wind rushed into the tunnel, slicing through the gap he’d created with a shrill and deafening howl. He observed a blurred flash of motion on the other side of the hatch—filling his view—and then the noise and light rapidly subsided. Barent threw the hatch the rest of the way open and found himself in Le’sant’s underground subway system, watching as the tail end of the train that just flew by disappeared into the dark tunnel ahead.
    The transportation system had actually been part of the ship’s original design—the large corridors crisscrossing the immense vessel meant to serve as public transportation routes when the city’s population grew large enough to warrant them. Barent remembered some of the early planning sessions where that eventuality had been discussed, but he was still shocked to actually see it all in place and functioning.
    He listened intently for anything else coming through the tunnel and then they both stepped out, crouching on a small ledge that ran parallel to the magnetic tracks. Tana closed the hatch behind them and they hopped down, jogging off in the direction the train had followed.
    “How far does this subway extend?” Barent said.
    “It’s only here in the Central District…the Citadel as you knew it. It would be nice to just hop on and take it all the way to the rendezvous point, but the subway is far too public. We’ll be better off on the street, where we can move around unobserved.”
    “How well do you know your way around the city?” Barent asked her.
    “Extremely well. And I can consult Le’sant’s datanet for alternate routes if we run into anything blocking our path. The Wardens shut down my access when they first picked me up, but they restored it