Lover

by Valerie J. Long

  “Stolen.”

  “Where?”

  “At Frostdragon, of course.”

  “Kiss my ass.”

  “Not here and not now,” I objected. “The mission’s not over yet.”

  He suppressed a smirk. “I have to apologize that we’ve triggered the alarm. Your description was correct, but we’ve missed the distance to the corner by one yard.”

  “It’s okay. It’s worked anyway.”

  “For what price? Does it hurt much?”

  “It’s just pain.”

  Chapter Eighty

  Alan stood on the crossing near a truck and was waiting for us. Gomez and Fiona were providing cover from opposite rooftops, but rose when the Captain gave the agreed signal.

  “How did it go?” Alan asked and tried to quickly count the heads of the soldiers behind us. Then he spotted the improvised stretcher.

  “Arville’s no longer with us. An unlucky hit. Otherwise—mission accomplished,” the Captain said.

  “Injuries?”

  “A few scratches. My men know when to pull their heads back. Only Jo here doesn’t.”

  Alan searched my body for injuries. “What happened?”

  “Jo came out of her cover ice-cold and took out the two guards as planned. Although she knew that her position had been spotted, she didn’t withdraw, but kept her post until she had reliably eliminated the second guard. There she was hit, according to Nick a full hit to the leg from a plasma rifle.”

  “Damn, Jo!” He pulled me into his arms. “You’re lucky to be alive!” Then he pushed me away again. “But a full hit?”

  “The young lady must have forgotten to mention her armor suit.”

  “Armor suit?” Alan scrutinized me.

  I only shrugged.

  “Your raid at Frostdragon must have been more worthwhile than you’ve admitted, wasn’t it?”

  “I have to see after myself. With the killers on my heels…”

  “Oh, fine.” He turned to the Captain. “Loot?”

  “Eighty service-ready plasma rifles, and we’ve destroyed the construction line. Two armor suits with little damage. A treasure!”

  “Okay, then let’s load up before we get visitors.”

  That let me listen up. “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Just caution.”

  “Come, spit it out. What’s on your mind?”

  “There’s nothing. A while ago, a girl drove by, but she didn’t notice us.”

  “And why did you notice her? What caught your attention? What did she look like?”

  “Pretty face, black top, old car, nothing special.”

  “Alan. What’s a pretty young thing doing alone at the ZONE limits? Rich brats don’t drive old cars. Poor whores don’t drive cars at all. Gang members drive old cars, especially here. Black top? Leather?”

  “Maybe, yes.”

  “Did you see a skull somewhere?”

  “Well, now that you mention it, yes, on the car.”

  “The sign of one of the ZONE’s leading gangs. Crap.”

  At least Alan quickly did the mental switch. “Captain!”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re compromised.”

  “Damn! Folks, secure and cover!”

  His men dashed away and produced their rifles. The Captain immediately began to assign scouts. Only a small group still tended to the truck.

  I handed my rifle to Alan and ran away, too. Ouch—my leg wasn’t entirely pain-free yet!

  Behind the next corner, I activated my camouflage and climbed the next roof. I knew exactly what I had to look for. If there was one gang that wasn’t active just in the ZONE, but also far into Houston, it was the one of the women in black suits with the skull symbol.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  I didn’t care why the gang had noticed Alan. Nor did I care what they wanted from us. I only wanted to avoid the noise that a confrontation doubtlessly would cause.

  So I hurried from roof to roof, covering wide gaps in one leap or with a stop on the road, to first gather a quick overview.

  —Warning. Healing success at risk.—

  Oh, okay. I had to trust my landings to the good leg. No problem. My attention still had to be focused on my surroundings.

  On several side roads, I found cars with skull symbols and two to four young women. I also spotted some teams on foot that already had dared to approach closer.

  Overall, I counted thirty-one waiting women with a wild assortment of weapons—pistols, shotguns, five linear rifles, but also brass knuckles, and always a few throwing stars. For the ordinary opponent, this surely was impressive, but against the soldiers, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Where was their leader now?

  My fine hearing caught the sound of another vehicle. I quickly changed my location and snuck closer.

  The black pickup was very carefully decorated with a large skull, with fine contours, a striking difference to the coarse brush on the other cars. The driver stopped next to one of these cars, and the passenger exited.

  She wore the same black leather as the others, skin-tight and robust, well suited as protection in a rough environment, but her stance was different. She didn’t need the feigned easiness of the other women. A large part of the ZONE and its vicinity was hers, and she was aware of her power.

  “All in position?” she asked the woman on the wheel of the parking car.

  “Sure, Verena. At your command.”

  “Good. Natalie?”

  Her driver left the pickup, too, and tossed a linear rifle at Verena. I didn’t have much time left.

  I moved behind Natalie, served her a sleeping treatment, caught her and gently laid her down. With few steps, I had circled the pickup and stood behind Verena. The women in the other car were just focusing forward.

  I deactivated my camouflage. “This is not a good idea.”

  Verena flinched. Then she slowly turned. Disapprovingly, she eyed the skull at my belt. “You’re not one of us.”

  “You don’t own exclusive rights for the symbol.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Velvet.”

  “Should I know that name?”

  Had my reputation already reached Houston or not? My feeling told me that she only pretended her innocence. “You asked for it.”

  “Well. What’s not a good idea?”

  “To start the attack with your girls.”

  “What attack?”

  “On the truck five blocks from here that your scout spotted a few hours ago and that your girls now have encircled. You won’t survive that attack.”

  “We’re the best.”

  “I know. You’d need a small army to take you out.”

  “So what?”

  “The small army’s waiting for you. You can’t win.”

  “An army—here?”

  “You don’t want to know about it.”

  “Why not? Why do you tell me?”

  “Because you don’t like the Cartel. They’re trying to take the wheel in Houston, too, and they don’t shrink from sending their people into the ZONE.”

  “Right. So what?”

  “And you don’t want to challenge someone who’s taking up the Cartel.”

  “I don’t want that?”

  “And most of all, you don’t want to mess with a platoon of Marines.”

  “Marines?”

  “…who already know that you’re coming, and who’re in no mood for playing at all.”

  “We know our ways here, they don’t.”

  “They know their rifles. That’s all Marines need.”

  Verena wasn’t ready yet. Her leader role didn’t allow her to withdraw. But she listened to me.

  “Do you know Anahuac?”

  She nodded.

  “The Cartel’s just lost a factory and a lot of people there.”

  Yes, Verena had heard of the factory. In her position, she had to be well informed.

  “But we didn’t clean it all up. There’s
more to find than just lead.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “That your girls could go and get the rest. If you’re quick.”

  “And avoid a useless battle.”

  “We’ve understood each other.”

  “Then I should thank you—Velvet.”

  Part Eight

  Incidents

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  “What’s happened now? Did you see someone or not?” Alan demanded to know. Fiona and Gomez listened.

  “I only met a new girlfriend.”

  “And?”

  “I gave her the friendly advice to find another, worthwhile and less defensible target. She agreed to it.”

  “You can be quite convincing, what?”

  “Oh, she’s quite responsive to good reason. Moreover, I believe she loves life. How will we go on?”

  “Fiona and I have to report back. The team will go into hiding with our booty. And you two should take cover, too.”

  “Oh yes. Jana will fret and fume.” I imagined how she’d react upon receiving the message. Messenger beware!

  “Jana?” Gomez echoed.

  “The Cartel’s head of security.”

  “Ah, so.”

  Alan laughed. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if Jo’d tell me they’d had a cup of tea together. Of course, without Jana knowing who she met.”

  “Mmm. Actually, that’s a good idea.”

  “No, Jo,” both men echoed with one voice.

  “Well, okay.” I nodded at Gomez. “Then we’ll find something to eat first, shall we?”

  I didn’t deem myself careless. What risk could it be to visit a random truck stop south of Dallas for a late breakfast? Nobody knew us here!

  We had at least enough time to devour a large serving of steak, eggs, and fried potatoes, before the trouble started.

  I didn’t have to see Gomez making a face to recognize the crisis. The first warning was the sudden cease of all talk. The second was the mirror image of the entrance door and the four black-clad men in the coffee jug on our table.

  Almost simultaneously, two more guys appeared in the kitchen door. They all carried machine pistols and looked as if they’d be ready to use them if they deemed it necessary.

  Without complicated calculations, I knew that I couldn’t leave the truck stop without providing that reason, and that this would be very unhealthy for all the other guests.

  Perhaps with Gomez’ pistol? Six shots, delivered in quick succession? Yes, with a small risk that one or two of the men would find a chance for an aimless volley. Just a few bullets—too much. Gomez wouldn’t have a chance.

  Moreover, they were already fanning out across the room to not stand in each other’s line of fire.

  “You’ll give the signal,” Gomez said doubtfully.

  “Outside, perhaps. Too many innocents here.”

  He briefly nodded.

  One of the two guys at the kitchen door stopped, and the other moved sideways. From the entrance, two men approached our table. I was curious what they’d say, but they didn’t waste their time talking. Sadly, my considerations regarding the other guests were still valid, so I didn’t react when they surprisingly produced their spray pistols and shot their poison into our faces.

  Neutralize, simulate effect.

  My nanos briefly closed my air passages, thus blocking the paralyzing toxin’s transport in my body until it could be absorbed. Sadly, I wasn’t spared experiencing the cramps in simulated form. This substance wasn’t meant to send its victims to sleep in a pleasant way.

  “Okay, get out here.”

  —The toxin causes lasting damage to the visual nerve. Shall vision be disabled?—

  No. But let my eyes look like it. Switch control respectively.

  “It’s already starting. Hee hee hee.”

  Ah yes. Seal off suit.

  They carried me—or better put, dragged me—out of the venue. I had hoped to become active outside again, but even before we reached the open, they applied robust shackles to my wrists and ankles. I’d probably able to break them, but it would take time. Time they could use to shoot a load of lead into my brain.

  Then in the car, I hoped. There they’ve less space to move.

  The sound of an approaching helicopter spoiled this plan, too.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  When would the right moment come to give up my cover and unveil that their poison didn’t work on me? When would the right moment come for my escape—if possible, together with Gomez, if not, bad luck for him?

  The fewer observers and guards around, the better. But I couldn’t just jump out of a flying helicopter. I had to wait until after the landing.

  The flight took only one quarter of an hour, so our destination had to be near Dallas still. Gomez was lying next to me—our bodies touched each other a few times. Poor sod, now he had to pay for knowing me.

  At least we weren’t dead yet. However, that was the only bright spot about our situation. Or else? No—we had gotten rid of the innocent bystanders. Anyone close to us or approaching us surely was a Cartel member. So I could drop my restraints. Now it was only about the question of how promising an escape attempt was.

  Attempt? No, it had to work at first go. Healing the plasma hit had cost me a lot of power, so I wasn’t perfectly well. Two attempts that moreover might require me to fight could be too much.

  So I had to be patient, even if it came hard to me.

  Footsteps approached the helicopter on crunching gravel.

  “Take them to the house,” a voice ordered from another direction. Was that the moment?

  I could only see what happened to cross my field of vision, couldn’t even focus my paralyzed eyes, but my Analogy helped me to put the picture together. No, there were guards with rifles in the back, too scattered to take them all out. I had to wait further, lull my pursuers into a false sense of security. At least, I now knew that there was a lot of free space around, poor cover, but no other houses either. We—that is, the Cartel, Gomez, and I—were alone.

  In the hallway then? No. Still too risky. They carried me—us?—deeper into the mansion. Did they have a cellar here? No, the room they took us into had windows.

  Wood cracked. They adjusted a table. “Drop her here and bind her. Put the guy on the desk over there.”

  Bound to a table. Memories rose inside me. A different table, different bounds. My instinct cried out in panic—no, not again! Help me!

  —Confirmed.—

  The feared, telltale pounding of my heart didn’t appear. My body remained calm.

  —Panic reaction diagnosed and suppressed according to order. Cause cannot be determined.—

  That was before your time, Ghost. My body has been tortured once, and you’ve healed the traces.

  —Information correlated. Suppression of the emotional reaction is problematic. Recommendation: Initiate change of current situation.—

  Smartass. Yes, I’m already pondering it. I will need my claws.

  —Confirmed.—

  Meanwhile, my ankles and wrists had each been fixed to one of the table corners and pulled tight. I had to get rid of these bonds. Tearing them off would be painful and cumbersome. However, there was still too much fuzz around me. The people were tearing at me, but they couldn’t get my suit off.

  “What kind of material is that? It won’t give in!”

  “Leave it. We can tend to that later.”

  “Our order is to undress her, but not hurt her. If I use the knife here, I’ll more likely cut her arm than the sleeve.”

  “And then she’ll bleed dry. No, then it won’t work.”

  “Fine. But you’ll tell him.”

  “There he is.”

  Another person entered the room. Unluckily, the door was in my blurred field of vision.

  Hermann.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  “Now that’s a surprise! Don’t we know each other? Johanna, right? I’ve been announced a certain Velvet.�
�� He stepped around me. “I know that you can hear me. Your body is in good shape. Very nice, so we’ll both gain more, won’t we? We only have to wait for the paralysis to fade, so that you can appreciate my art. Too bad that the poison will damage your visual nerve, I’d liked to show you my tools, so that you can look forward to them. But it’s most important that your vocal chords remain intact, isn’t it? Jana has so many questions for you!”

  His threats of torture surely should cause new panic in me, but I was past that point. I was firmly determined to free myself soon, best before Jana arrived here. I shouldn’t meet that woman, at least not in this condition.

  “This will help you. It will not only remove the lingering aftereffects of paralysis, but also amplifies your sensitivity. We will soon relieve you of these bothersome clothes—you won’t bear to keep them on.”

  Neutralize.

  He pushed a straw between my lips and pressed a liquid into my mouth. That didn’t bother me. As long as the substance wasn’t meant to attack the tissue directly, my nanos had no trouble dealing with it.

  “Swallow nicely. Now we’ll wait a while. You’re not in a hurry, are you?” He laughed.

  No, I wasn’t in a hurry. However, I seriously considered whether I should hold on to my principle of not killing regarding him. Oh damn, what had I done in the ZONE? Okay, I only had injured the two guards in the armor suits. Then I had left them to their pain, had let them suffer until one of the team’s men had relieved them. We hadn’t planned for prisoners. So, with my hits I had sentenced them to die and at the same time denied them the mercy of a quick death. Was that better than a perfect hit?

  In effect, that way I wasn’t better than a Hermann. I had to admit to myself that I was too cowardly to kill. I left the dirty work to others. If killing wasn’t right, I shouldn’t be part of it. But if I was part of it, I had to fucking do it myself. And in this case, Hermann was far up on my list.

  “Soo, my little one. Soon you’ll have some feel again. Does it already burn nicely? That will be over soon, too, leaving only the pain from the muscle cramps, and you’ll soon forget about them, too.”