Contingency Plan

by Robyn Bachar

  “What does your thermal say?” Nakamura asked. He was one of Ken Takei’s men—they had three in their team.

  “Inconclusive. Too much interference. Should we chance it?” she asked. The team briefly grumbled over the comm before deciding that it would take too long to try another route that might have problems of its own.

  “Right,” she said. “I’ve got point.”

  Jiang raised her rifle and started into the smoke. Her heart pounded and the rasp of her breath was loud in her helmet. Heat, smoke, darkness—her hands trembled at the memory of being trapped on New Hong Kong, waiting for death.

  I can do this. I have to do this.

  “Got any good jokes for us, Chief?” she asked.

  “Sorry, boss. I only tell bad jokes.”

  Jiang smiled. “Anyone else?”

  Dev, one of Captain Kapoor’s men, spoke up. “Did you ever hear the one about—”

  The rest was cut off as a laser blast hit Jiang square in the chest. She toppled back and fell flat on the deck. “Drone!”

  The machine loomed over her and Jiang emptied her weapon into it, but she barely dented its armor. She cursed and rolled to the side as the drone fired again, leaving a smoking crater in the deck.

  CHESTPLATE AT 13% ARMOR RATING.

  Shit. Her armor wouldn’t take another hit.

  “Cover,” Ryder ordered. Jiang rolled into a tight ball. “Fire in the hole!”

  The grenade had been adjusted for use on a starship—didn’t want to create an explosion strong enough to put a hole in the hull—but the explosion rocked her and filled her HUD with damage warnings. The drone clattered to the deck, and Jiang grabbed her pistol and emptied its contents into the machine for good measure.

  “Clear,” she said. “I’m good to go.”

  “Bulletproof Chen,” Ryder said.

  “Nope, not feeling it.”

  She reloaded and rose, then continued. The smoke dissipated at the end of the corridor, and the rest of the way appeared clear.

  “Dev, hack the lock,” she ordered. “We’ll sweep the room with stunners. Hopefully they won’t have time to get off any blank grenades this time.”

  Affirmatives chorused in reply, and Dev gave the group a countdown.

  “Three, two, one, go!”

  The team stormed in and lit up the lab with stun blasts. Scientists dropped like flies, and Jiang breathed a soft sigh of relief.

  “Everything looks intact,” she said. “Dev, you’re in charge of data collection.”

  “Got it.” He drew his tablet and connected to the nearest terminal.

  “You’re too late.”

  Jiang froze at the voice—she recognized it, both as Xiaoling and Jiang. A man stepped into view, his hands raised in surrender. His face had acquired more lines and his white hair had thinned, but this was definitely Ivan Koslov.

  “Too late for what?” she asked.

  He paused at the sound of her voice emanating from her helmet’s speaker. “Agent Kwan?”

  “Not anymore. What are we too late for?” she asked.

  Dr. Koslov smiled. “Too late to stop it. There’s nothing you can do now.”

  Jiang stepped forward just as the corners of Koslov’s mouth began to foam. “Shit! Medic!”

  Koslov collapsed and she hurried to his side. Nakamura drew a scanner from his equipment belt. “Anaphylaxis. He’s seizing, get clear.”

  The doctor’s trembling turned to flails and whimpers of pain. Then he stilled, and Jiang grabbed the man’s shoulders.

  “No,” she exclaimed. “You can’t die now, you son of a bitch.”

  Nakamura shook his head. “He’s gone, Lieutenant. Suicide pill.”

  Jiang cursed and slammed her fist into the nearest workbench. Ryder came up behind her and helped her to her feet.

  “Spread out,” he said to the team. “See if you can find any physical prototypes.”

  The group fanned out—not that they had any idea of what they were looking for. Hopefully a dutiful researcher had conveniently labeled it “colonist control device.”

  “Dev, what’s your progress on the data transfer?” she asked.

  “Almost got it,” he said. “Couple more minutes.”

  Jiang joined the others in their search. Damn it. They needed more time. The lab was filled with storage compartments, desk drawers, equipment lockers. She paused and forced herself to think like a KGB agent. If she was working on a top secret project, where would she hide it?

  Jiang turned and headed to the back of the room. A palm scanner was set into the wall, and she removed her gauntlet and pressed her hand against it. The scanner flashed green—apparently her clearance was still in the Soviet system. The wall split and a vault drawer slid out as though she was making a withdrawal from a safe-deposit box.

  “Jackpot. Here.” Jiang reached in and grabbed a clear cylinder that held a tiny speck within it.

  “That’s it?” Ryder asked. “That can’t be an implant. It’s the size of a grain of sand.”

  “Guess that would make it easy to implant. Simple and bloodless, like Valentin said.”

  “We’ll take that.” Nakamura aimed his rifle at Jiang and Ryder, and Takei’s other men followed suit. “And the data, too.”

  “What the fuck?” Ryder asked.

  “Do you know how much that is worth on the black market?” Nakamura asked.

  “No, but it’s about to be worth three dead mercs,” Jiang said. She and Ryder dropped in tandem and took cover behind a desk. She pressed herself flat and shot at the boots of the nearest traitor from beneath the desk. He screamed and fell, and she shot him in the visor. His helmet cracked and smoked, and his comm went silent.

  Jiang shoved the cylinder into her pack as Ryder laid down covering fire. “Suggestions?” he asked.

  She tapped his shoulder and signed that she would break left. Ryder nodded, and they moved. Nakamura had Dev pinned down. Jiang shot Nakamura in the back, but his armor absorbed it and he whirled toward her and fired.

  The blast hit her in the gut and Jiang screamed.

  CHESTPLATE COMPROMISED. CHESTPLATE AT 0% ARMOR RATING.

  * * *

  Ryder dropped his target, but his joy vanished when Jiang screamed. He turned in time to see her fall, and then he charged Nakamura with a scream of his own. Ryder took two hits before he reached the man and bludgeoned him with the butt of his rifle. Nakamura’s visor cracked and he stumbled. Enraged, Ryder hit him again and again until the man’s armor cracked like an egg, and then Ryder shot him point blank.

  “Chief, he’s down,” Dev said. “I’ve got the data. Get Lieutenant Chen.”

  Ryder shouldered his rifle and rushed to Jiang’s side. She moaned and thrashed, and he grabbed her hand. “Jiang?”

  “Gotta get shot for you to stop callin’ me boss?”

  Ryder was flooded with relief. “Thank God. Can you walk?”

  “Dunno.”

  The ship’s alarms suddenly cut off and were replaced with a computerized voice speaking in Russian. His HUD translated it, and he cursed.

  SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED. ALL HANDS NOW HAVE 10 MINUTES TO REACH ESCAPE PODS.

  “You told me these ships didn’t have self-destructs,” Ryder said.

  “Lied,” Jiang replied.

  “Dev, how far is the shuttle?” Ryder asked.

  “We’ll make it,” Dev said. Ryder did not find comfort in the fact that the man didn’t quote a number.

  Ryder scooped Jiang up. “Dev, you’ve got point.”

  “Right, Chief.”

  They hustled out of the lab and hurried back the way they came. The ship rumbled as though undergoing an earthquake, but all Ryder could think of was getting Jiang to the shuttle and tre
ating her with its med kit.

  “Can you fly?” Ryder asked.

  “Dunno,” Jiang said.

  “I’ve got pilot experience, Chief,” Dev said.

  “You’re hired.”

  They reached the lift and piled in. The doors closed and the lift began to rise, but then it froze after one floor.

  “Power failure?” Ryder asked.

  “Looks like,” Dev said.

  “Pop the top.”

  Dev opened the access panel on the lift’s roof, and he hoisted himself up. “Hand her up.”

  Ryder heaved Jiang up and Dev grunted as he pulled her onto the roof. Ryder followed, and the two men peered down at Jiang.

  “Can you climb?” Dev asked Jiang.

  “She doesn’t need to. I’ve got her. You’re in charge of opening the doors when we get to the next floor.”

  “Got it,” he said. Dev started up the access ladder.

  “Chief?” Jiang asked.

  “Sorry, boss.” He flung her over his shoulder, and then began to climb. Sweat immediately broke out across his brow, and he grunted and cursed as they ascended each rung. He could do this—he had two good hands again, and he wouldn’t let anything take Jiang away. Not now, not ever.

  Each step was agonizing, but he finally reached the top. Dev grabbed Jiang and pulled her to safety, and Ryder knelt to catch his breath.

  YOU NOW HAVE 5 MINUTES TO REACH THE ESCAPE PODS.

  “Shit. Go!” Ryder ordered. He picked up Jiang again, and they ran.

  It was clear the rest of the way to the Tiger Shark, and Ryder set Jiang on her feet long enough to input the code to deactivate the ship’s defenses.

  “Get to the cockpit,” Ryder ordered. “I’m taking her to medical.”

  “Right.” Dev bolted toward the cockpit as Ryder sealed the airlock.

  Ryder set Jiang on the diagnostic bed, unsealed her armor and began tugging off the pieces. She blinked at him blearily when he removed her helmet.

  “It’s not that bad,” she said.

  “You’ve been gut shot. It’s bad.”

  “Okay, it’s bad,” she agreed. “But I’m not gonna die. Know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we haven’t gone on that date yet.” Jiang grinned, and his heart melted.

  “I love you, boss.”

  “Good, ’cause I’m pretty sure I love you back. We’ll talk later. Painkillers now.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ryder had attempted to retire to the Mombasa’s armory to meditate while cleaning his guns, but Lindana and Gabriel were fencing, and Ryder wanted no part of that. Instead he holed up in his quarters with a disassembled assault rifle spread across his bunk. He reveled in working with both of his hands, and welcomed the distraction from worrying about Jiang. Tomas had banished him from the med bay and threatened to shoot him if he disobeyed. Ryder knew him well enough to take that threat seriously.

  The door chimed and he shouted for the person to enter, and then he spotted Jiang.

  “You’re supposed to be resting.” Ryder rose and wiped gun oil from his hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I told Tomas I’d break his kneecaps if he didn’t discharge me. He’s given me a clean bill of health, but said, and I quote, ‘No sexual acrobatics of any kind for three days.’”

  Ryder checked the chronometer. “Starting from when? Now? Or when you left the med bay? I need to write this down.”

  Jiang laughed. “Easy, Chief. You’ll live. He needed to get us out of the way, anyway. He and Maria are buried in the Compliance data we recovered.”

  “Still no progress?” Ryder asked.

  “Not yet. We only got a piece of the puzzle, and that prototype is a tough egg to crack.” She peered around, enthralled by the family photos that wallpapered his quarters. “This is all your family?”

  “Yeah. Our family reunions are enormous. Would you like to sit?” He offered her the chair he had just vacated, then quickly reassembled the rifle. He wasn’t as fast at it as he’d been in basic training, but the weapon was good to go in a matter of moments. He replaced the rifle in its case and stowed it as Jiang reached out and touched a picture of Ryder holding his newborn niece.

  “That’s Olivia. She’s nine now.”

  Jiang nodded and took a seat on the edge of his bunk. “It must be nice.”

  “Being an uncle is a good gig. You get to play with the kids, wind them up and then send them home.” Ryder grinned, and she smiled weakly. He hated seeing that hesitation in her. “You okay?”

  “You remember how I was afraid that I might’ve done terrible things if I was an intel agent?”

  “Yeah.” Ryder rolled the chair closer and took her hands in his. Her hands looked delicate, but Jiang was every bit as strong as he was, maybe even more so. “You remember how I told you that you should focus on your present and not your past?”

  “Touché.” Jiang sighed and turned his hands over, her fingers tracing his tattoos. “My old life and my new life are different, like night and day. I’m happy here, and I’ve never been happy anywhere. I never felt part of something like I do on this ship.” She stopped fidgeting and squeezed his hands. “That’s why I’m here. With you. I’ve never had anyone stick with me the way you have. You came with me to New Hong Kong. You didn’t blame me for what I’d done, or for Erik’s death, even though I blame myself. It matters.”

  “You matter.”

  “I never mattered to anyone before, and no one mattered to me. I volunteered for the implant trial because I truly didn’t care if I lived or died. No one would’ve missed me.”

  “I would have.”

  She smiled, and it felt like someone kicked up the light and heat in the room. “Good answer, Chief. Look, I’m not quite the Jiang you knew. I still have a tragic past. It’s just a different kind of tragic.” She smiled dryly and he nodded. “The old Jiang couldn’t move forward. Her heart lost its foundation, and she couldn’t build a new relationship until she could properly honor the old one. And the old Xiaoling never had a foundation to begin with. Never had a family, never wanted one. But now I’m a new Jiang.”

  “Faster, stronger, more powerful?” he teased. Her smile turned sultry and his arousal revved into high gear. Damn.

  “Darling, you have no idea.” Jiang’s voice was a husky purr, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer. “My point is, there’s nothing holding me back now, so it’s time I moved forward. I want to build something. With you.”

  God, yes. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted a life with Jiang. The corners of his mouth twitched at the thought that he’d give his right arm to be with her, because he knew he could. Jiang had seen him without his prosthetic, and her faith in him had shown him that they could do anything together. He only needed one good arm to hold her.

  Ryder quirked a brow. “Are you proposing to me?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway. For now I suggest we start with that date and see what happens.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  * * * * *

  Available Now from Carina Press and Robyn Bachar

  Firefly meets James Bond in this action-adventure romance set in an alternate future where the Cold War never ended...

  Read on for a sneak preview of RELAUNCH MISSION, the first book in Robyn Bachar’s THE GALACTIC COLD WAR series.

  Chapter One

  “Do you want the bad news or the worse news?”

  Lindana pinched the bridge of her nose, willing away a throbbing headache, and risked a wary glance at her chief engineer. “Why is there never good news?”

  “The good news is that I haven’t killed your idiot brother. Yet.” Maria stabbed a slender, grea
se-smudged finger in Lindana’s direction. “Tell him the engine rats have voted, and it’s unanimous that one of us will shank him the next time he comes down here. We’re drawing lots to see who gets the honor.”

  “No one is shanking anyone.” With a grimace Lindana ran a hand over her hair—she was overdue for a trim and was getting positively woolly. She mentally marked a haircut down as item number one hundred and thirteen on her To Do list. “You can’t stab the chief medical officer.”

  “Of course we can. It was unanimous.”

  “As the captain, I’m overruling you. Now give me the news. All of it.”

  Maria snorted but gamely squared her shoulders. “We lost another power coupling to the starboard engine. The remaining ones are compensating, but the added strain is eating up fuel like a motherfucking feral hog. We’re going to need to do a full refuel at Tortue.”

  Damn it. A full refuel was bloody expensive, and their finances were stretched thinner than usual. Missions had been sparse, and their past few jobs had gone pear-shaped almost as soon as they started. “Let me guess. You’re going to need a new power coupling?”

  “No, we need a half dozen new power couplings. Mike and I were refurbishing some back on New Nairobi, but we ran out of time and—”

  “Is that what the kids call it these days?” Lindana asked, just to see the chief blush.

  Maria cleared her throat. “My point is, we absolutely need at least one now. Two would be better. Three would be fabulous.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. And I’ll talk to Tomas about staying out of the engine room.”

  “Do you know what he did?” Maria placed her hands on her hips and her scowl deepened. The expression would have been more effective if her face wasn’t smudged with engine grease, or her short brunette mane wasn’t as wild and tangled as though she’d just stepped out from behind a wind machine. Though perhaps she had—Lindana didn’t understand the workings behind most of the ship’s machinery. She didn’t have to, because that was Maria’s job. Maria and the engine rats crawled through cramped ductwork and access tubes to make repairs, squeezing into spots that would send Lindana into claustrophobic panic attacks.

  “No. What?”