The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)

I absorbed this, looking around the room, the magnitude of that thought just beginning to build up in my mind. “And Cruz has access to this room?”

“Well, not directly. But he can get into the staff area of the building, which means we can probably find a way to get him to take us close enough.”

Ms. Dale jumped in over me. “What sort of man is Cruz? What would prompt him to aid us? Money, power? Or does he oppose the recent power shift?”

Jeff’s eyes grew shrewd. “Well, to be honest, he is a man who misses his former glory. He’s managed to avoid recruitment into the labor camps by actively assisting the Matrians, but if you catch him late enough at night and lend a friendly ear, it is clear that he’s less than satisfied with the status quo.” Jeff looked around and leaned a little closer to the camera. “I believe he would respond well to some attention.”

“What do we know about the stadium’s current security?” Viggo asked.

“Not much, sir, but given some of the stories Mr. Cruz has told me over supper, security is tight, but not impregnable. He’s talked about several different checkpoints in the stadium, four thus far, but I get the impression there are more.” Jeff took a deep breath and frowned. “I’m sorry I don’t have better information for you. It seems the more I speak, the more hopeless the idea becomes. I just figured you would want to know.”

“No, no. It’s definitely worth thinking about,” said Amber. “I mean, our biggest concern is getting into the city.” She looked around the room, her brows furrowed. “Those checkpoints are the biggest holdup, but if we can get in there and get a hold of that technician, I’m certain we can do something with this.”

“That’s a lot of ‘ifs,’” Viggo muttered, crossing his arms. “We need to decide whether the payoff is worth the risk.”

“Quite right, sir,” said Jeff. “I do not envy your decision at all. Do you have… any further questions for me?”

I looked around the room as people shook their heads one by one. “No, it doesn’t seem like it, Jeff,” I informed him. “Thank you for this. It’s a good start. Please stay safe.”

“I will do that, ma’am, as long as you and everyone there promise to do the same. I’ll call back in, um, twenty-eight hours. If you have need of me before then, send me a message signed by my cousin Tula.” He smiled, pleased at his imaginary cousin’s name, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“We will do that.”

The screen went dark, indicating he had cut the connection, and Thomas moved back to the equipment, unplugging the wires. I turned to the group and exhaled, running my left hand over my stubbled head.

“All right, so what are we thinking?”

“It’s risky,” Ms. Dale replied. “And there are a lot of obstacles—like Amber said, getting in and out of the city is a pretty big hurdle in and of itself.”

“That is mostly because we have no idea what kind of identification papers are being utilized,” said Thomas as he dropped into the chair behind the computer. “If I could get my hands on one, I might be able to duplicate it.”

“Is there anyone we can send to the city who already has a plausible reason for being there?” I asked, looking at Ms. Dale.

“Actually, any of the wives or Patrian women would be suitable. But it would be better if we sent one from a homestead out here. It would explain why she hadn’t reported in yet—make up some story about the harvest or a vehicle breaking down.”

“Wouldn’t they ask about her husband?” asked Amber. She looked around the room, frowning, as if hearing something silly in her own question, but then she squared her shoulders and continued. “No, I mean, the wardens controlling the city are Matrian, but they aren’t stupid. They will doubt her story a bit if her husband isn’t with her to get his ID.”

Ms. Dale pshawed, waving her hand away. “Please, give me a girl who can cry on command and I can give you a believable story.”

I nodded, a smirk on my lips. “I’m sure you could,” I said. “Well, that just leaves the inside.”

“Jeff seemed confident we could use this Cruz guy to get inside and bypass security,” said Amber.

“Anello Cruz was an underdog,” said Viggo, almost absentmindedly. “No one thought he could take out Rosen, but he did. He was probably just settling into the fame and glory of his position when all this happened. I’m guessing that means he’s still craving fans, in a place where everyone’s biggest concern is for their personal safety.”

“We can work with that,” said Ms. Dale. “We can appear as fans, or even use Mr. Croft in some way—connecting a former fighter to another former fighter. Possibly looking for work?”

Viggo shook his head. “I think it might be risky to use my real name. They’ve probably dragged it through the mud and back. If I go, I’ll have to wear a disguise of some kind.”

Ms. Dale waved her hand again dismissively. “We can figure that out once we have a better way to proceed, but honestly, I do think this holds the seeds of something. If we could just get public opinion to turn against Elena…”

“It could weaken, if not destroy, her hold on Patrus,” announced Owen. I turned, surprised to hear him speaking, and found him standing behind everyone, his arms crossed, his expression turned inward, contemplative and dark. “But is that really going to make a big difference for us? For the boys? All we do is take wild shots and chances, and all they do is recover and hit back—and when they do, they hit us where it hurts. How does this… plan… help us achieve any of our goals?”

I frowned and took a step toward him. “Our goal is to help people,” I reminded him. “Patrians, Matrians—it doesn’t matter at the end of the day, as long as we try.”