He sat the balalaika down against the couch end. With his hands freed up, General Kutuzova patted the seat cushion.

He implored her to sit beside him.

"Come. Come," he urged.

He wasn't the same man she trusted as a child. Tasìa suspected she never truly knew him.

"I don't know if I will be here very long, General."

"Nonsense. I sent my men away so we will have some time to ourselves. To catch up as it were."

His face then cast a studied grimace her way that no matter how authoritative it was set did not make her feel compelled to obey.

"I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed in you, Tasìa."

With a world-weary suspired sigh she asked, "How is that, General?"

"The Spider Monkey I knew would have found a way to this tower within the first week she was inside the gates of this complex. I had to prod Ms. Paz in a most indelicate manner to get you over here."

Tasìa considered his words. Why had he not conveyed to Felicité to go ahead and inform Tasìa that he waited for her in the tower, instead of the line of bull she was fed? Perhaps, he kept Felicité in the dark on their personal connection. Did he need to do so to advance his own agenda?

Felicité was a data broker with a known mercenary disposition. Reason enough, Tasìa supposed, to keep the Argentinian in the dark.

She shrugged to let him know that his disappointment meant little to her.

"I have been busy."

"You have been distracted, Tasìa. You allowed them to set the terms."

Her tone intentionally flippant, she chuckled as she spoke.

"Have I, now?"

He gazed at the antiques that lined a long wall mounted table: Saracen cups, Spanish colonial wine jugs of pewter, and ceramic jars of quality Mayan replica.

"Yes, indeed," the General said; his tone measured as if intended to counter the goad in her own word and voice. "The Tasìa I knew was the best operative I ever had working for me."

"I have never worked for you, General."

He guffawed a steady laugh.

"Oh, sweet child. I had you running all over that barrio doing my bidding. You did not think of it as work; you just thought yourself a child at play."

Her eyes grew steely.

"I remember getting shot at, and wondering why anyone would be so mean."

"All for a good cause. So I could lay low, and so Tatiana could stay safe."

"I see, did my father know?"

"Most of it. After all, he did train you to be the scamp that you are."

Tasìa held up the mobile PA with the photo of herself on the screen, and the caption, Sigrid Rosa.

"What do you know of this, General?"

"That goes back very far, back to a bargain your father made."

Her face pinched up into a grimace.

"Tasìa. Don't go feeling like you have been betrayed because you are now finding out about things that would not have made sense to you then, even if you had been told. Your father did what he had to do to save you."

She gave the general a careful appraisal, and came to a decision. Whatever his crimes against the rest of humanity, Kutuzova had always been nothing but kind towards her.

She decided to take a seat on the couch; her body being so diminutive, she easily folded herself up together and she sat facing him with plenty of room between the two.

"What's this about?"

"You were born a preemie, my child. Born to schedule, you would have been as tall as your mother who is tall for your people. Perhaps, as tall as your aunt, my dear Tatiana, but your mother did not have the benefit of having my Cossack genes as her sister did. So, likely not.

General Kutuzova waved both hands with fingers spread out, and he continued.

"However, neither here nor there. Just a father's pride. What is important, your diminutive stature was the result of being born in the fifth month of your mother's pregnancy.

"The Salvage researchers saw an opportunity in you. They told your father they would cover all expenses for keeping you alive, if he was willing to let you go through their treatment program.

"His only mistake was not knowing the nature of that treatment. Naïvely assuming as he did that it was merely to benefit your health."

"What did they do to me?"

"Induced artificial neurodevelopment. Given you were born premature as you were, there is some flexibility in how they could shape you.

"To be fair to those medical researchers who experimented on you, they were not truly monsters, as none of the original defects continued after the therapy, so all in all, you were likely more benefited than harmed by their treatment.

"But that was then. Those experiments are over and done with. What is being done to you now that should have you most concerned."

"And what is that? Tell me, General."

"The answers are right there, in Heloïste's PA. Get it to that friend of yours, she'll know what to do. She has the background in cybernetics to explain it to you in a way that goes over my head, but not likely yours.

"I was going to give you this, but I see you will not be needing it."

He held up an SSD card. General Kutuzova's smile set deep in his face with a kind bearing.

"I know the next thing that you're wondering, Tasìa. That being, when do you get to leave this shit hole. We have to stay put for one more evening.

"As you see I ran into some trouble downstairs when Salvage found out that you were no longer behaving like a docile inmate. That is Heloïste's PA as I assumed earlier, correct?"

When she affirmed with a nod, Kutuzova shook his own head.

"Half the mess I'll need you to help us untangle was her doing. The Salvage never had a more loyal soldier to their cause than Demona Heloïste. That you pressed Ms. Paz to move things forward proved to be serendipitous.

"We all have to clear out of here tomorrow. Then, when we get out of here I have to ask you a favor in return."

Before she answered, Tasìa peered down at her nimble fingers. She cracked the knuckles emphatically for Kutuzova to see.

"I was not expecting this to come free, so what is it I can do?"

"Tatiana is in trouble, and it is something of a delicate nature that only the finest operative I've ever had working for me could possibly handle."

The sound of boots came plodding up towards them from downstairs. Tasìa gripped the .32 caliber that she held in her jacket pocket.

One of the two spooks that passed her by earlier, peeked into the antechamber. He nodded politely to Tasìa.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but something's going on over there in Spore Isolation. They are calling for a lockdown over the radio."

General Kutuzova cursed under his breath.

"We have to get you back over there, Tasìa."

"Lockdown? It could be weeks before I have the opportunity to get back over here if it is a complex-wide lockdown."

"Tasìa, if worse comes to worst, I'll use one last favor to get you back over here. However, when they do a headcount and you're not over there, there will be a larger problem.

"They will bring in dogs, soldiers, and drones to scour all over the place to find you. Making it impossible for us to leave tomorrow. Come on."

He led her down the hall, passed the limp camera, and into a stairwell going up three flights. He unlocked the door that led into the roof shack.

As soon as he opened the door, Kutuzova jerked back when he heard the barking of dogs and the rumbling hover of drones which they could see lit up in the swivel of spotlights. Several of them.

Just beneath their location, the stomp of dozens of boots pounded on asphalt under a hail of barked orders.

Tasìa stepped back inside the shack. General Kutuzova looked flustered. She had to seize control.

"General, when you make it out I'll contact you in three days with this," Tasìa said with the mobile held up. She continued, "Whatever it is my aunt has gotten herself into, will she be able to hold out for that long?"

He nodded in answer. When she turned around to descend back down the stairs, he asked.

"Where are you going?"

"Obviously General, the conditions have changed. I'm going to need to find another route."

With that quip, she scurried back down the stairs.