Shadow of the Hegemon, the - Book 2 (Ender)

you."
    It took her only moments to decide why such authority might have been given to morons like these. "Only if I'm in imminent danger of being rescued. Then they'd rather have me dead than let somebody else get the use of me. Let's see you make a case for that here on the runway at the Gyuniri airport."
    A different rude word this time.
    Somebody spurted out a sentence of Russian. She caught the gist of it from the intonation and the bitter laughter afterward. "They warned you she was a genius."
    Genius, hell. If she was so smart, why hadn't she anticipated the possibility that somebody would make a grab for the kids who won the war? And it had to be kids, not just her, because she was too far down the list for somebody outside Armenia to make her their only choice. When the front door was locked, she should have run for the cops instead of puttering around to the back door. And that was another stupid thing they did, locking the front door. In Russia you had to lock your doors, they probably thought that was normal. They should have done better research. Not that it helped her now, of course. Except that she knew they weren't all that careful and they weren't all that bright. Anybody can kidnap someone who's taking no precautions.
    "So Russia makes her play for world domination, is that it?" she asked.
    "Shut up," said the man in the seat in front of her.
    "I don't speak Russian you know, and I won't learn."
    "You don't have to," said a woman.
    "Isn't that ironic?" said Petra. "Russia plans to take over the world, but they have to speak English to do it."
    The foot on her belly pressed down harder.
    "Remember your balls in a bag," she said.
    A moment, and then the foot let up.
    She sat up, and this time no one pushed her down.
    "Untape me so I can get myself up on the seat. Come on! My arms hurt in this position! Haven't you learned anything since the days of the KGB? Unconscious people don't have to have their circulation cut off. Fourteen-year-old Armenian girls can probably be overpowered quite easily by big strong Russian goons."
    By now the tape was off and she was sitting beside Heavy-foot and a guy who never looked at her, just kept watching out the left window, then the right, then the left again. "So this is Gyuniri airport?"
    "What, you don't recognize it?"
    "I've never been here before. When would I? I've only taken two airplane trips in my life, one out of Terevan when I was five, and the other coming back, nine years later."
    "She knew it was Gyuniri because it's the closest airport that doesn't fly commercial jets," said the woman. She spoke without any tone in her voice -- not contempt, not deference. Just ... flat.
    "Whose bright idea was this? Because captive generals don't strategize all that well."
    "First, why in the world do you think anyone would tell us?" said the woman. "Second, why don't you shut up and find things out when they matter?"
    "Because I'm a cheerful, talkative extrovert who likes to make friends," said Petra.
    "You're a bossy, nosy introvert who likes to piss people off," said the woman.
    "Oh, you actually did some research."
    "No, just observation." So she did have a sense of humor. Maybe.
    "You'd better just pray you can get over the Caucasus before you have to answer to the Armenian Air Force."
    Heavy-foot made a derisory noise, proving that he didn't recognize irony when he heard it.
    "Of course, you'll probably have only a small plane, and we'll probably fly out over the Black Sea. Which means that IF satellites will know exactly where I am."
    "You're not IF personnel anymore," said the woman.
    "Meaning they don't care what happens to you," said Heavy-foot.
    By now they had pulled to a stop beside a small plane. "A jet, I'm impressed," said Petra. "Does it have any weaponry? Or is it just wired with explosives so that if the Armenian Air Force does start to force you down, you can blow me up and the whole plane with me?"
    "Do we have to tie you again?" asked the woman.
    "That would look really good to the people in the control tower."
    "Get her out," said the woman.
    Stupidly, the men on both sides of her opened their doors and got out, leaving her a choice of exits. So she chose Heavy-foot because she knew he was stupid, whereas the other man was anyone's guess. And, yes, he truly was stupid, because he held her by only one arm as he used his other hand to close the door. So she lurched to one side as if she had stumbled, drawing him off balance, and then, still using