Contingency Plan

by Robyn Bachar

  Captain Nyota smacked her brother on the arm. “You’re not helping. At any rate, we need Koslov alive. Dead scientists tell no tales. If you’re fast and quiet you can extract him before an alarm goes up.”

  Jiang frowned. “I’m not sure I’m ready for a mission in Soviet territory. One stray sip of the local water, and my subconscious will tank the mission. Lieutenant Steele would be a better choice.”

  “Gabriel will be engaged on another mission,” Captain Nyota said. “He’s chasing the leaks in Alliance Intelligence. We have to plug that leak if we’re ever going to clear our names.”

  “Water alone probably won’t trigger a response,” Tomas said. “I’ve been discussing the details of how Gabriel’s implant works. There are some similarities in the design, though it’s difficult to judge considering yours is damaged. It was the tea that triggered you. Your handler would ensure that your orders were implanted in a food you crave. He’s a New Brit, so tea works for him as well.”

  “So I’ll be safe as long as I avoid tea?” Jiang’s brow furrowed; it seemed too simple.

  “It’s a good place to start.” Tomas ran a hand over his hair and sighed as he turned to Ryder. “You’re really not going to like this.”

  “What?” Ryder frowned.

  “We can’t repair either of your prosthetics. There’s a shortage of the metals needed for the power source for your backup and the mechanisms in your primary.”

  Ryder’s expression clouded like the approach of a dangerous storm front.

  Jiang cleared her throat. “Can we barter for a new prosthetic?”

  Tomas shook his head. “We looked into that. The Stryke Zone has an amazing black market, but the demand for prosthetic limbs shot up due to the shortage. There was a rush on them about six months ago, and the local vendors sold whatever they had.”

  Jiang’s head tilted. “Six months ago? Could the shortage be connected to Blood Money?”

  “It’s possible,” the captain said. “I’ll add it to the list of things we’re researching.”

  “Cap, I can’t go on a mission with only one hand,” Ryder said.

  “Why not? You came back from a mission with only one hand,” she said. “I’ve seen the vids. You did well enough against the security drones.”

  “Well enough won’t cut it on New Leningrad.” He scowled and shook his head. “You’ll have to send someone else.”

  “No.” Jiang stood her ground as Ryder turned his disapproval on her. “You’re the only one I trust to watch my six aside from these two, and they’re needed here.”

  “I can’t protect you if I’m—” Ryder broke off, a vein ticking in his neck.

  Captain Nyota stepped in. “You think I hired you for your gun hand?”

  “No,” he said.

  “You think you became chief of security because you’re a good shot?” The captain poked him in the chest, then flicked his forehead like a big sister annoying a younger brother. “If your mind was compromised I’d be worried, but it’s not. I’m not asking you to club the man over the head. Together the pair of you should be smart enough to avoid starting a gunfight on New Leningrad.”

  “My Russian sucks,” he pointed out.

  Jiang’s mouth quirked. “No one expects the muscle to speak. You just need to grunt menacingly.”

  “No one expects the muscle to be missing an arm,” he countered.

  Jiang shrugged. “The Soviets suffered casualties during the war, too. I doubt you’ll be the only amputee in New Leningrad.”

  “It’s settled. You’re going. Captain’s orders.” She fixed Ryder with a no-nonsense stare that dared him to defy her.

  He tensed, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Aye, Captain.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You’re going to have to suck it up and deal sooner or later, Kalani,” Jiang said. “It’s a six-day trip to New Leningrad, and if you sulk the whole way I may be forced to take drastic action.”

  Ryder looked up from the disassembled pistol he was slowly cleaning. He hated relying on his left hand—his fingers felt fat and clumsy, and he kept dropping things as though someone had turned up the shuttle’s artificial gravity settings. Normally cleaning his guns soothed him, but without his prosthetic even the smallest irritation grated on his nerves.

  “What kind of action?” he asked, morbidly curious.

  Jiang cocked her head as though pondering the many methods of torture in her arsenal. Shit. Maybe she did know torture methods, somewhere buried in her super spy subconscious.

  “Maria taught me the songs she and the rats use to drive Tomas out of the engine room. They’re annoying as hell and get stuck in your head. Plus my singing voice is atrocious.”

  Ryder snorted. “I refuse to believe that anything about you is atrocious.”

  “Is that a compliment? Why thank you, Chief.”

  With a sigh he tossed the polishing cloth onto the work tray in front of him and then leaned back in his chair. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m a liability on this mission.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that. Why? I don’t know a thing about espionage. You should’ve brought Gabriel instead. He’s trained for this shit, and this has got to be a higher priority than figuring out who in the Alliance screwed us.”

  “No. I don’t trust Gabriel.”

  Ryder gaped. “Whoa. But I thought... How can you be in the wedding if you don’t approve of him?”

  Jiang folded her hands in her lap, the picture of serenity; her composure irked Ryder, who felt as though even his dreads were frayed with anxiety.

  “I don’t disapprove of him. Gabriel makes Lindana happy—more or less—and I appreciate that. They love each other. I approve of that. He’s proved himself trustworthy to her. I’m sure he’d have her back if they were on this mission. But Lindana isn’t leading this mission. I am. Gabriel hasn’t proved himself to me. You have.”

  “Okay. I get that. But I still don’t see what use you have for a soldier without a gun hand.”

  Jiang’s sly smile kicked his pulse into overdrive. “Oh, I’m sure I could find a use for the rest of you.”

  Ryder shuddered and swallowed a groan. Damn. One smile from her and he was rock hard. He cleared his throat and attempted to focus. “That’s not—My point is that my areas of professional expertise are firearms, explosives and hand-to-hand combat. Those things require two hands. I can’t protect you like this.” He slammed his hand on the table, rattling the pieces of the disassembled pistol.

  Jiang quirked a brow. “Have I ever struck you as someone who needs protection?”

  Ryder barked a short laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck—he really was tying himself in knots. If they survived this mission he was treating himself to a massage.

  “When you first came on board you did,” he said. “You were timid. Quiet. You watched everything from a safe distance, kept to yourself. Never left the ship. You looked...wounded. Like a dog that’s been kicked too many times.”

  “Accurate. What changed your mind?”

  “Tomas did.” Ryder smiled at the memory. “He was determined to bring you out of your shell. Said it wasn’t healthy to hide the way you did. So we found ways to get you to come out and play.”

  Jiang chuckled. “That you did. No one else had ever tried. Before joining the Mombasa, I moved from job to job, never sticking. I never had a reason to. But you made me feel like family.”

  “You are,” he insisted.

  She pointed at Ryder. “And that’s exactly why you’re here and Gabriel’s not.”

  “All right, point taken. Still don’t think it’s a good idea.” He shook his head and reached for the work tray. “It’s what I do, you know. Protect people.”

  “Is that why you became a marine?�
�

  Ryder nodded as he picked up a screwdriver and fiddled with it. “I’m the oldest in my family. I have five younger sisters and two brothers. I looked out for them when we were kids. Anybody who picked on them answered to me. Then my father died, and I felt a responsibility to support my family. I enlisted when I was seventeen. I’d still be in the corps if I hadn’t lost my arm.”

  “Is this the longest you’ve been without your prosthetic since your injury?”

  Ryder set the screwdriver down. He thought back to his time in the VA hospital, something he had done everything in his power to forget. “Since I was fitted for one, yeah.”

  “How long did it take you to receive it?”

  He exhaled a shaky breath. “Seemed like forever, but maybe a month? Took a while to get to a location with access to prosthetics, and then to have them in stock. It was the height of the war. Lot of injured troops and not enough med supplies to go around.”

  Jiang rose and crossed the room to sit beside him. She gently took his hand and held it in hers. Her hands seemed so delicate compared to his. He had big, meaty paws, as if he was born to be a bare-knuckle boxer. Maybe he was—there were times when it felt like he had been born to fight.

  No, not to fight. To protect.

  “How did it happen?” she asked.

  Ryder stared down at their joined hands, refusing to meet her eyes. God knew what she’d see reflected there, like the ghosts of marines he couldn’t save.

  “My unit was part of the siege of Nouvelle Quebec. We were trying to take the capital, but it felt like every time we made progress, the rebels would pull some insane stunt and drive us back. Crazy bastards.” Ryder sighed and shook his head. “We were pinned down, running out of ammo. I had one grenade left. I didn’t know that it was bad. A manufacturing flaw, maybe, or it’d been damaged in transit. I set the timer and stood to throw it, and it exploded in my hand.”

  Jiang’s grip tightened, and he thought he heard her gasp. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he suspected the expression was unconvincing.

  “Took my arm off up to here.” He waved his stump. “Vaporized. Gone in an instant. The concussion wave knocked me flat and I was out cold. My armor was full of shrapnel. Took the medics forever to dig all of it out. Some days I can still feel it under my skin, like big metal splinters.”

  “What happened to the rest of your unit?”

  His chest tightened—it was a bitch to breathe, as though the air had been sucked out of the cabin. “Killed in action. They were overrun. A cleanup crew came in after dark to try to retrieve the bodies, and that’s when they found me. Just another body on the battlefield.”

  Jiang squeezed his hand again, but then she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. “It’s not your fault.”

  “You don’t know that. Nobody does. Maybe if I’d gotten that grenade off, it would’ve turned the tide of the battle. Or maybe it would’ve had no effect. Maybe we all would’ve died anyway.”

  “You’re a good soldier, Ryder Kalani.” Jiang released him and sat back. “I’m glad you’re here. I need your head on this mission, not your hand.”

  He looked up and met her gaze, then grinned broadly. She smacked his shoulder and laughed. “Not that head. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Sorry, can’t help it,” he said. “You’re welcome to either head, for the record.”

  Jiang paused and tilted her head as she regarded him. She rose and stood before him, and Ryder felt the heat of her gaze as it moved over his body, like fire singeing his skin.

  “Are you sober, Kalani?” she asked.

  “Never been more sober in my life, boss.”

  “Good. I propose a second round of Never Have I Ever, but instead of taking a drink, the person removes an article of clothing.”

  Ryder swallowed hard. Hot damn. He’d wanted to get her naked for so long. Too long. “I...but... I stand by my previous argument that I need two arms to hold you.”

  Jiang smiled, a sultry expression worthy of a pinup model. “Don’t need your arms, Chief. Just both heads, and I believe you just welcomed me to them.”

  “Oh. Right. I just don’t understand why... I mean.” Ryder waved his stump. He hated the sight of the thing. Every moment without his prosthetic was another reminder of how he’d almost died on the battlefield.

  Jiang put her hands on her hips. “Never have I ever kissed a crew member.”

  She shed her jacket with a flourish and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. She quirked an eyebrow in challenge, and Ryder sighed and removed his T-shirt. It wasn’t as graceful a movement as Jiang’s had been, but he was already much more naked than she was.

  “Who was it? I mean, someone aside from me?” he asked.

  Jiang tsked and shook her head. “That’s not how you play the game.”

  “I know, but now I’m imagining you making out with one of the lesbian engine room rats. I’ve always wondered if they have orgies down there, all slicked up with engine grease...”

  “Focus, Chief.”

  “Yes, boss. Never have I ever...” Ryder trailed off, his mind still stuck on thoughts of erotic adventures in the engine room.

  “Well?” she asked. “Can’t think of one? I’ll go again. Never have I ever masturbated while picturing a crew member.”

  “Aww, hell. Do shoes count as clothes?” he asked.

  “I’ll allow it. But they count as a pair. None of this one shoe at a time nonsense.” Jiang unlaced her boots and dropped one boot to the deck, then the other. The noise of each boot hitting the floor was impossibly loud in the tense silence, like gunshots signaling the start of battle.

  Ryder frowned as he stared down at his boots. Laces were a challenge with only one hand—he’d gotten tips from other soldiers in the VA hospital, but after he’d gotten the prosthetic that knowledge had faded from his memory.

  “Allow me.” Jiang approached him, quiet in her stocking feet, and knelt before him. Ryder swallowed a moan as his cock twitched at the sight. With a sultry smile she untied the knot of his right boot—but slowly, every movement stretched agonizingly long. Sweat beaded his brow by the time she finished unlacing and removing both boots, and Ryder had never felt so damn turned on in his life.

  She rose and studied his reaction with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “Well? Still no ideas?” she asked. Ryder shook his head, unable to form coherent thoughts. “All right. Never have I ever had a wet dream about a crew member.”

  She stripped off her top, and Ryder choked, because she wore nothing beneath it. No bra, no undershirt, just exquisite breasts. Though Ryder had historically been a big breast fan, he suddenly experienced a whole new appreciation for small and perky. Her breasts would fit perfectly within his palms—if he had both palms. The realization shocked him out of staring.

  “Do women have wet dreams?” His voice was strained and nearly cracked like a horny teenager. Damn. Just one look at Jiang’s chest and he devolved into a drooling mass of hormones.

  “The fortunate ones do. I’d argue we have better ones, too. Multiple orgasms.” She grinned, and he groaned. “Did you forget to remove an item of clothing, or have you never had the...pleasure?”

  “Oh. Right.” Ryder cleared his throat and reached for his socks. “Socks count as a pair, too?”

  “Yes. And it’s your turn.”

  “Not sure I can word right now.”

  Jiang laughed. “Come on, Chief. Don’t you want to get me out of my pants?”

  Out of her pants and back against the deck—he’d never wanted anything more in his life at that moment. “Never have I ever gone down on a pilot. But I want to. Right now.”

  * * *

  Jiang’s pulse raced and her heart thudded. She smiled to hide her nerves. “I’m happy to oblige.”

  She sat
in the chair she’d draped her jacket over and bent to remove her socks. Ryder’s focus was palpable as he watched her every move, so she slowed, unrolling her cotton socks as though they were silk stockings. Ryder made a strangled noise but remained still. She rose and swallowed a hiss as her bare feet hit the cold deck, but then she reached for her pants. The sound of the zipper unfastening was loud in the silence of the cabin. She slid the garment off, and sauntered to stand in front of Ryder.

  “Help me out?” she asked.

  Ryder reached for her, then looked away and muttered a curse as only one hand responded. Jiang pressed one finger under his chin and turned his gaze up to meet hers as her other hand took his and guided it to her hip.

  “You need to worry less about that and more about how you’re going to give me a screaming orgasm. I can make it an order, if you like.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  The change was instant as his hesitation vanished. Ryder dragged her panties down, then he rose and backed her against the table. He swept the tray with his disassembled weapon aside and the pieces scattered across the deck. Jiang began to lie back but he caught her and pulled her close.

  Ryder kissed her thoroughly, as though he intended to make up for the flaws of his first attempt in the armory. She tilted her head back and surrendered, letting her hands do exploring of their own as she stroked the hard expanse of his back. His lips moved to the side of her throat, kissing a line down to her collarbone. She gasped as he licked and sucked one nipple while his fingers teased the other.

  “Harder,” she ordered.

  “Yes, boss.”

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he followed her command. Pleasure jolted her like the snap of an electric charge, and she moaned her approval. He teased her for a bit, gauging her reaction to judge the boundaries between pain and pleasure, and then he laid her across the tabletop.

  Jiang spread her thighs as Ryder knelt between them and buried his face in her sex without hesitation. The burst of pleasure arched her back and she moaned. She reached for him and ran her hands over his dreads.