by R. M. Olson
Contents
The Ungovernable series
Dedication
Title Page
Trojan Horse
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
ENJOYED THE BOOK?
The Ungovernable series:
Zero Day Threat
Jailbreak
Time Bomb
Insider Threat
Firewall
Trojan Horse
Security Incident (coming January 2021)
To Michelle, whose morning conversations keep me sane.
TROJAN HORSE
Book 6 in The Ungovernable series
R.M. OLSON
Copyright (c) 2020
R.M. Olson
All rights reserved
TROJAN HORSE:
Malicious code or malware designed to trick system users into loading and executing it by deceiving users of its true intent
Important note:
Dear readers,
As you will have surmised from the previous book, this book takes place on a pleasure planet. It’s … not a nice place. So please be aware that, while I have tried to make sure anything too disturbing happens off-screen, the story does contain implied sexual violence, implied violence (sexual and otherwise) to minors, and a scene with a somewhat gruesome injury.
CHAPTER ONE
JEZ LEANED UP against the wall, gasping for breath, her heart pounding a hole in her chest. The walls of the small, darkened corridor off the gambling rooms pressed in around her claustrophobically, and she cradled one arm close to her body, the dull ache of it almost unnoticeable under the pounding glow of adrenalin.
Had she lost him? She wasn’t certain. She closed her eyes for just a moment, sucking in a deep breath of air that smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, trying to slow her heart rate.
“There you are.”
Her eyes snapped open, and she bit back a curse as her involuntary movement jolted her arm.
A small, wiry man stalked around the corner, and even in the dim light, she could tell his expression was one of cruel satisfaction.
He might have been handsome, when he wasn’t looking like he’d sucked on a damn lemon, but his fine clothing and dapper appearance marked him out as someone who didn’t know much about brawling. Not someone she’d generally be worried about, honestly. Probably could knock him over with one very satisfying fist to the face.
But then again, it was harder to knock someone over when they were holding a laser gun on you.
He had another gun loose in his other hand. Her gun. Which, with Ysbel’s mods, was pretty much enough to leave a Jez-shaped charcoal stain on the wall behind her.
She grinned at him through the pounding of her heart. “Well, guess I was wrong. I thought you were a stupid, slow bastard. Turns out you’re a stupid fast one.”
His eyebrows lowered. “And I thought you were supposed to be smart. Not so smart now, are you?” His smile turned slightly mocking. “If your com was working, I might worry about that mass murderer friend of yours. But then, that’s why I never travel without my EMP blocker.”
“Maybe I already put a call out,” said Jez, with as much snark as she could muster. “Anyways, if she did want to come after you, she could probably find you by smell. Ever heard of a shower, you scum-eater?”
His smile didn’t falter, but his expression hardened. “I suppose I will have to shower after this,” he said. “I hear ash is hard to get off your skin.”
“What, planning on setting yourself on fire?” Her arm throbbed, and she could see the murder glowing through his expression, but hell, she figured she was in deep enough anyways at this point.
“Sit.” He gestured with his gun. For a moment she debated jumping him, but … well, satisfying as that would feel, it would probably be fairly short-lived. Considering she’d probably have a hard time feeling anything with a hole burned through the middle of her gut.
Slowly, she sat.
His smiled widened, slow and ugly. He’d come a couple of steps closer, but still too far for her to be able to lunge for him.
Probably on purpose. He seemed the type that would think about that kind of thing.
“Alright, Solokov,” he purred. “Looks like you’ve finally begun to see reason.”
“Hey now, I know you’re a useless plaguer, but I have things to do. Can we get whatever the hell this is over with? I’m kind of a busy woman, to be honest with you.”
“Ah Jez,” he said, almost fondly. “I expect that your options of places to go and things to do may have just gotten a lot smaller.”
Her heart was pounding even harder now, her grin stretching across her face, a prickle of panic crawling up her spine, mingling with the cold of the corridor wall against her back.
The gambling ship was big. And yes, she’d taken that into consideration, but at the same time—
Well, at the same time, he might just straight-up kill her. And he might just be able to.
“So,” he said, in a conversational tone. “You’ve been wreaking havoc on this ship for the last week, rumour has it. Gambling, cheating, drinking, whatever it is you’ve been doing. And I don’t know what happened a week ago, with the fire alarms and everything else, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you had something to do with it. And when I went to look you up—” he shook his head. “I’d expect shame from most people. Smuggling. With Lena, to boot. And the kind of things on your record, I was almost ashamed for you. But here you sit, Jez, and you’re not ashamed in the slightest.”
“Nope,” she said, managing a smirk. “Figure it could be worse. I could look like you, for one thing. And besides—”
“Shut up, Solokov,” he growled, raising his laser gun meaningfully.
She’d read up on his record, too. He wouldn’t hesitate to use it.
She shut up.
“So,” he continued. “Here we have a smuggler, a gambler, a drunk, and a cheat. And you got an invite to this conference, for some reason, or else you and your friends managed to forge your way in. And I decided it was time someone put an end to this.”
“You sure that’s what it was?” she asked. She was pretty sure she should actually shut up, but her mouth didn’t usually pay attention to considerations like that anyways. “Because I figure it was because I cheated every damn credit off you three games in a row before you figured out what the hell was going on.” She shrugged. “I mean, gotta hand it to you, it takes skill to be that plaguing stupid, but—”
The laser gun burned a smoking hole in the dirty carpet beside her, and she gave an involuntary yelp.
“The only reason that didn’t hit twenty centimetres to the right is that you’re going to do something for me, Jez. You’re going to give me my credits back, and you’re going to do it right now.”
“Which chip do you want?” she drawled. “The one I cheated off you, or the one I stole of
f you?” Every muscle in her body was tight, and her brain buzzed with a heady mix of fear and anticipation.
He glowered at her. “Don’t think I’m stupid. I saw you transfer the credits into your chip.”
“Yeah? Well hell, I’d love to give those credits back, since you asked so nicely. But—” She shrugged regretfully. “You hit my com with an EMP blocker. So I can’t just send it over.”
“Take out the chip and toss it to me.”
She shrugged again. “I could, I guess. You’d never get inside it, because it’s set to my biometrics, and I figure you don’t have a hacker friend who’s nearly as good as mine.”
“You’ll give me that money back, Solokov,” he said in a flat voice. “You’ll figure out a way, or I’ll take my chances with a hacker friend.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” she said. “I do have a way. I just don’t think you’re going to like it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.”
She gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Old-fashioned way. You hook your com into mine, and you can transfer the funds right over, easy peasy.”
He looked at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed. He was probably making the same calculations she was—she was taller, and probably stronger, and a hell of a lot more experienced at brawling. But then again, she was injured, and he had a gun.
At last, reluctantly, he nodded. “Alright. That’s what we’ll do. But—” he raised his gun again. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’ll be able to jump me, take off, go find your friends.” He gave her a grim smile. “Before you embarrass yourself, I’ve been checking. All of your friends are on the other side of the ship, and I have people who’ll let me know the moment one of them moves. And if they do, you’re dead. You aren’t the first person who’s underestimated me. The difference here is, you’re still alive. Let’s see if you can keep it that way.” He gestured with his gun. “Go on. Legs out in front of you, hands on the wall behind you.”
Reluctantly, she did as he asked.
Be hard to lunge at him from this position, which was probably the point.
Still—maybe she wouldn’t be able to jump to her feet, and maybe her hands were over her head on the wall, but if he was right in front of her, maybe—
He stepped closer cautiously, as if she were a wild beast that might snap at him. She gave him her toothiest grin, but his expression just took on a tinge of disgust.
He was right in front of her now. He’d have to put one of the guns down to hold his com up to hers, either that or keep a gun in his com hand while he transferred the credits.
The adrenalin rushing through her veins was almost enough to make her dizzy, and she was grinning like a complete lunatic.
“Alright,” he said, crouching in front of her so he was at her eye level. “You’re going to lower your com hand, nice and slow, and then—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish, just brought her good hand down so the edge of her palm would connect with the side of his neck—
He caught her wrist in his hand and shoved it out of the way, and with his other, slammed the butt of Ysbel’s modded gun into her injured arm. She bit back a whimper of pain as he twisted her good arm up behind her back, doubling her over, and then the muzzle of the laser pistol was jammed into her ribs.
“You think I was born yesterday, Solokov?” he hissed into her ear. “Now, let’s try that again. Give me your com hand.”
Reluctantly, painfully, she held out her injured arm. She had the brief hope that he might let go of the gun for an instant in order to touch his com to hers, but he somehow managed to keep the muzzle steady against her ribs and twist his wrist so the two coms made contact. She could hear the faint, steady click of credits transferring over, and she swore and gritted her teeth against the tears of pain forming in her eyes as he pulled her arm up tighter.
At last, the clicking stopped.
“Thank you, Jez,” he said mockingly. “I couldn’t possibly have done it without you. And it looks like I took a little more than what you owed me, but I thought it was probably fair payment for the trouble you put me through.”
The pressure on her arm released abruptly, but before she could gather her wits, he’d stepped back, the gun trained on her. He’d switched weapons now, and this time he was holding Ysbel’s modded heat gun.
“But I wouldn’t worry about that,” he continued conversationally. “I’m pretty sure you’re not going to need credits where you’re going.” He aimed, and she lunged to her feet, because he was going to pull the trigger anyways, so what did it matter—
He fired.
The gun clicked.
She grinned at him. “Where do you think I’m going, you bastard? Back to my room?”
He cursed and yanked out his laser gun, levelling it at her, but she pulled a small tube out of her pocket and clicked it before he could pull the trigger.
“Didn’t even notice your EMP blocker was missing,” she said, tossing it into the air and catching it in her palm. “Bit of an innocent, aren’t you? Bet you get your pockets picked in every damn zestava you visit.”
He was glaring at her now, clearly too angry to be alarmed.
She grinned to herself and tapped her com against her thigh. “Hey Galina, you feel like some target practice?”
The man’s face went suddenly bloodless. “What—what are you doing? That com doesn’t work. I used the—”
“Like I said,” she drawled, leaning back against the wall. “I have a tech-head friend.”
“Hands up,” came a woman’s voice from down the hall.
Slowly, the man raised his arms.
“Now,” said the woman, “Drop your weapons. Turn around slowly. And get the hell out of here. I don’t like it when people hit Jez.”
She was about half a head shorter than Jez, with wavy black hair falling half-way down her back, high boots, and a short dress that showed off her curves to admirable advantage.
And a heat-pistol, of course.
Jez sighed dreamily.
The man did as he was told, lowering his gun gently to the ground, then turning and sidling past the woman, who was holding her gun in a no-nonsense way.
Jez grinned at her. It was honestly incredible how hot knowing how to manage a heat pistol could make someone. And, to be fair, Galina was pretty damn hot to begin with. As hot as Jez had remembered from the night she’d met her in the casino, after Masha had sold them out, and she’d almost walked in on Lev—
Actually, probably better not to think about that.
Anyways, and considering how drunk Jez had been at the time, that was actually fairly impressive.
When the man was gone, Galina lowered her heat pistol and strode over to Jez, concern written across her face. “Are you alright?”
Jez grinned at her, despite the throbbing in both her damn shoulders now. “Yep. Bastard took the bait and swallowed it whole.”
Galina looked her over quickly. Her eyes caught the way Jez cradled her arm, and she frowned.
“Jez. You’re hurt.” She reached out and ran a practiced hand down Jez’s arm, and Jez couldn’t hide her wince. “What happened?”
The concern on Galina’s face made something strange and slightly uncomfortable twist inside Jez’s stomach. Because hell, she was used to a lot of things, but it would be a long time before she got used to people being concerned about her.
Still, she managed a snarky grin. “Well, he decided he was going to try to break my arm before he shot me. But he’s a damn amateur. I’ve been beat up plenty of times before, and I can tell you—”
“That doesn’t make it better. I don’t like you getting hurt.” She leaned in and kissed Jez gently, and for half a moment Jez completely forgot about her arm.
Because if she’d learned one thing about Galina in the past week, it was that she was a very good kisser.
“Alright you big hero, let’s get out of here,” Galina said fondly, stepping back.
Je
z blinked at her for a moment before the words penetrated the fog in her brain, then she grinned. “Did I ever tell you you’re damn hot when you’re holding someone at gunpoint?”
Galina laughed. “How about you tell me tonight? Come on. We’d better get out of here before he figures out what you just pulled on him.”
CHAPTER TWO
“HEY KIDS! TIME to move!”
Tae looked up in time to see Jez jog onto the main deck. There was a broad grin spread across her tawny face, her tousled black hair was even more disheveled then usual, and she was holding her arm like it hurt her.
Galina was close behind her, heat-gun still in her hand, concern on her face.
He stood quickly. “Jez? Are you—”
She winked at him. “Relax, tech-head. All good. But I figure we’ve worn out our welcome. Better get moving.” She glanced behind her. “I’d give us maybe five standard minutes before that plaguer decides to spend some of his new credits, and finds out they’re forgeries. Maybe a little longer than that before he realizes that from the moment he touched his com to mine, we had a mirror copy of every damn thing on his info chip.” She winced slightly as she brought her com up, popping the chip free. She tossed it to Tae, and he caught it.
“She’s hurt,” said Galina. “Her arm needs to be looked at. Is there a first aid kit anywhere I can—”
Jez turned to her with a grin. “Here’s the thing, Galya—usually we fly first, and deal with first aid and crap later. Tae? Everyone on board?”
He nodded, and she disappeared down the hallway towards the cockpit.
Galina looked around uncertainly.
“Strap down,” said Tae, face grim. “Doesn’t matter where, just strap down.”
Galina, to her credit, didn’t ask questions, just slipped into the nearest seat and hit the restraint. Tae gave one final glance around the cabin, then grabbed for the pile of tech he’d just finished laying out on a table.
