“It’s not as if we had much of a choice. This spaceframe had originally been slated for delivery to a corporate buyer before the Empire got dibs on it. Successive models won’t have the view port, for fear it might compromise a warship’s structural integrity.”
He slapped the top of the seat. “I take it this is where the Emperor will be sitting for the ceremony?” At Mandisa’s nod, he extracted his scanner and began the pantomime of checking the room.
“I have yet to see, or hear, anything that tells me that scanner is even working, Lieutenant.”
He ground his teeth before he answered. “I have it slaved to my inhead display.” Just in case she needed to be reminded that he was, after all, an augie.
“This is all a waste of time, Lieutenant. My techs completed this same inspection earlier today and found nothing.”
“Imperial Security’s equipment is much more sensitive than the military’s; we can detect minute anomalies your people might have missed.”
She sighed, turned away, and mumbled under her breath, “Even if a dumb-ass augie is operating it.”
Ice tinged his words. “Of course, Commander. And might I remind you that this dumb-ass augie has exceptionally acute hearing.”
He ducked beneath the table, inspecting the underside. If he couldn’t get Mandisa out of the room, he might have to attach the bomb here. Not his first choice, but it would do the job. He opened the scanner’s case.
The conference room’s door opened and a male voice said, “Can you take a look at this, Commander?”
From his vantage point below the table, he saw them step into the corridor, the door sliding shut behind them. In a hyperkinetic blur, he slipped out and leapt onto the tabletop. The light housing was heavy, but he had no trouble lifting it out of its frame far enough to slide the device inside. He snapped the empty case back together, but before he could jump down, the door opened.
“A bit early to be dancing on the table, Lieutenant,” Mandisa said.
He clenched his jaw, fighting to formulate an explanation. “As I said, my scanner is extremely sensitive and as a consequence it often gives anomalous readings. The problem appears to be only a fluctuation in the light’s power source. Not unexpected on a ship still undergoing last minute adjustments.”
He dropped from the table and spun around, stowing the now empty scanner in his case, moving quicker than a normal human, just to remind her what he was capable of. “Shall we return to your office and finish up with the personnel files. I have more pressing matters to attend to this afternoon.”
Back at her terminal, Cypher discovered that his heightened senses allowed him to scan through the files far quicker than he realized. Good. He wanted to finish this up now. In less than an hour, he planned on boarding that starliner, so he’d need time to make it back to his rented cubicle, destroy this uniform, and grab his ticket. By the time the Emperor’s reign came to a loud and bloody end, he’d be light years away in transit to Willcommin.
Mandisa rolled her eyes at yet another interruption, the door opening to reveal a red faced, panting ensign. “Captain needs you, ma’am, right now…”
They stepped into the corridor. Cypher tried to eavesdrop on their conversation, curious to learn what had the rating in such a panic, but an announcement blasted out of the ship-wide comm, preceded by the twitter of a boatswain’s pipe, and he missed their exchange.
“All station personnel and non-essential Lister technicians are to disembark immediately.”
Mandisa appeared in the door, her face a dark mask of rage. “You could have said something. Now finished up your shit and get the hell off my ship. If you can’t find your way out, ask any ensign.” Then she was gone.
Rather than appear intimidated by her bluster, he punched up a cup of coffee from the processor and returned to his seat. By the time he reached Willcommin, Smiley should have transferred the remainder of his fee. He’d head straight for the bank and withdraw everything, parceling it out to the dozens of blind accounts he’d set up all around the Human Sector.
After he acquired a new identity, his next task would be to find a ship—nothing flashy like a Pulsar, but it would have to be fast and well appointed. When all the excitement had died down and someone new sat on the throne—Smiley?—he’d return for Gray Eyes, like he’d promised. She’d never get wealthy working at a military pay grade, so a fancy yacht and healthy bank account might persuade her to throw in with him.
In that alley she’d pretended she wasn’t interested, but her body had told a different story. And if he couldn’t talk her into hooking up with him, he could have a lot of fun with Gray Eyes before he got rid of her. Rough sex between augies might be rather interesting.
Pain lanced through his head, like daggers driven into each ear. The Other didn’t like that thought. Not one bit. He chuckled at the reaction, and reached to put down his cup. The strident piping of the whistle startled him, causing him to spill coffee all over the XO’s desk.
“All ship’s personnel report to the embarkation area.”
That meant it was time for him to leave. He closed his case and left the cup sitting in the cooling puddle of coffee for Mandisa to clean up. The corridor outside was empty, all the access panels now buttoned up. He saw no one to ask directions, but it was pretty much a straight shot until the left jog at the airlock. He couldn’t get lost.
He paused as he heard voices coming from the vicinity of the hatch; a lot of voices. Easing along the bulkhead, he reached the bend in the corridor and peered around the corner. The group of ship’s officers gathered there stepped back as another party came aboard. Beyond the wall of naval blue, he could make out the white of Praetorian Guards, and several figures in black uniforms identical to the one he wore, and then a bright flash of purple.
That was impossible. She couldn’t be here now.
The ship-wide comm disagreed with him, the announcing pipe scratching his nerves like claws on plexisteel.
“The Emperor is now on board. I repeat, the Emperor is on board.”
He fought to get the air moving in his lungs again, and cursed the nasty chuckle echoing in the back of his mind.
You are bloody well screwed now, son.
His body stepped forward, a marionette moving at another’s will. He panicked, snatching control of his muscles away from The Other and scurrying back the way he’d come, trying each door he came to, but they were all locked. The XO’s office was his only refuge. He stumbled in and sealed the door behind him.
Ransahov wasn’t due for several more hours, so why was she here early? Had they found Pike and guessed that he’d come aboard the ship in his place? No, that couldn’t be right. If they even suspected to find him here, they’d have charged through the hatch with weapons drawn—Gray Eyes would have made sure of that.
Gray Eyes. This was her doing. She thought she could outsmart him by advancing the Emperor’s timetable, but he’d beaten her at her own game. Already set, the bomb would go off, not at the start like he’d originally planned, but later when they were all liquored up and congratulating themselves on having beaten him again. Even better.
Too bad the blast would take Gray Eyes out.
Most likely, they’d stick to the Emperor’s original itinerary, which meant they’d head for the bridge first, then engineering. He only had to wait here a few minutes, to make sure everyone had left the area of the airlock, and he could slip off the ship.
His inhead chrono flickered off the minutes. If he didn’t leave soon, there wouldn’t be enough time to swing by the cubical and pick up his ticket. He should have brought it with him, but hadn’t wanted to chance it being found on him.
Beneath his feet, the deck began to vibrate, low, barely at the edge of perception, but it steadily built.
No, No, No, he chanted as he palmed the door open and charged up the corridor, not quite at a panicked run. He reached the airlock, found it deserted, but now the vibration had grown into a low growl. Twin metallic clanks ech
oed through the ship, and the deck seemed to shift beneath his feet. He slammed his hand on the airlock’s release again and again, but nothing happened. It was useless. The ship’s comm confirmed his fears.
“All hands, prepare for departure. Say again, prepare to exit space dock.”
Cypher groaned and leaned his head against the uncaring metal of the hatch. The Mad Dog was going out, and he was trapped on board with the Emperor and a ticking bomb.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
To Fitz, Coronia looked like two stations had collided, fused, and then one began to grow around the other without plan or control. Starting life decades ago as a military facility, the commercial side had been added later to service naval personnel headed down-world or out-system on leave or rotation. As commerce in the Scyran System grew, it picked up the traffic overflow from the two other privately-owned stations, sending out domed concourses, glittering observation spires and docking arms in every direction until now it resembled a giant bioluminescent creature swallowing the dark bulk of the military station.
Fitz sat on Lizzy’s bridge, lights extinguished to match her dark mood. Her only companion, Jumper, occupied the co-pilot’s seat, front paws tucked under his chest.
“You know Bartonelli is really pissed at you.”
She sighed. “It wasn’t my call. Captain Wellborn stipulated no civilians, particularly of the mercenary persuasion.”
“I don’t know what the big deal is. He’s letting a couple of cats come aboard.”
“That’s because Ari’s bringing Faydra, and when the Emperor says she’s bringing her cat, all a ship’s captain can say about it is ‘What kind of food does she like?’ You’re along to accompany Faydra.”
“Guess that makes me the Emperor’s cat’s consort, huh?” He stood and stretched. “I could get used to being a kept cat.”
Lizzy’s comm chimed at the same time Fitz’s inhead paged her with a message labeled urgent. Her computer identified the caller as Lieutenant Adley, the Praetorian Guardsman in charge of the palace communications office. Before she could finish identifying herself, the man interrupted her, voice high with excitement.
“We got him, Colonel. We captured your bad guy.”
“What?” Fitz’s heart thumped inside her chest and she held her breath, afraid the long awaited news would dissolve into just another rumor.
Adley suddenly remembered proper military protocol. “About an hour ago a marine checkpoint team intercepted the perpetrator trying to board a shuttle to Coronia Station. As soon as he tried passing through the scanners, he set off the alarm. The guards stunned him, pulled his spike and packed him off to one of those nasty isolation cells beneath the old DIS headquarters. Just like you ordered.”
Tagging Wolf’s file had been a long shot, but it had paid off.
“Has he said anything?’ Fitz hoped he had the good sense to keep his mouth shut until she got back.
“Not that I know of, but I don’t think he’s awake yet. Your message implied he was a real bad dude, so I don’t think they were willing to take any chances. They tranqed him pretty hard to keep him out.”
“He’s going to be pissed when he wakes up. A familiar face might not be a bad idea. You know, just to smooth things over,” Jumper said.
“Lieutenant, I’m sending over a civilian. Bartonelli’s the only person with clearance to talk to him until I get there.”
“The mercenary?”
“You know her?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard some complaints from people in the barracks that she’s cleaning them out at Maxillian poker.”
“Yepper, that’s Bartonelli. I taught her everything I know about the game.”
Fitz chuckled, an eruption that felt foreign after the stress of the past few days. “Then you’ll be glad to get her out of your hair for a while. Thank you, Lieutenant, and good job.”
As soon as she disconnected, she put her face in her hands and surrendered to the shakiness she’d held back for so long. It felt right to let go, to let the feelings take over and not be the strong one for a few seconds. She longed to drop the mask of the cold professional SpecOps agent and feel Wolf’s arms around her, hear him telling her it would all be okay. The nightmare was finally over and now they could get on with their lives. The tap of a paw against her arm brought her upright, sniffing and wiping the moisture from her cheeks. She pulled the cat into her arms and squeezed him.
“It’ll be great to have the Big Guy back, Boss Lady.”
“I know, but I’m just not usually this emotional. I guess it’s a sign of all the pressure I’ve been under.”
Fitz blew out a deep breath and composed herself before calling Bartonelli.
“Regretting you didn’t bring me along already, Chima?” The murmur of voices and clatter of glassware in the background made Fitz wonder if the sergeant wasn’t at this moment lightening the pockets of some of her guardsmen.
“As it turned out, we’re lucky that you stayed behind.”
“How’s that, Chima?” Bartonelli asked, then whispered aside, “Three novae and the dragon, boys and girls. Let’s see you beat that.”
If the chorus of groans Fitz could hear was any indication, they couldn’t. Perhaps she should have Lieutenant Adley warn his people about playing cards with the diminutive merc.
“We captured Wolf.”
“What? Where?”
“We caught him trying to pass through a security checkpoint to catch a shuttle up to the station. They stunned him and stashed him in one of the holding cells at DIS headquarters.”
“He ain’t going to like that.”
“That’s why I need you to get over there right away and bring him up to date. I’m not sure how much he’ll remember from the time Cypher controlled him, but if anything from that fight in the hospital stuck with him, he’s going to need to know you’re okay. I’ll spring him as soon as I get back to the surface.”
“You got it, Chima,” Bartonelli said, and disconnected.
“Colonel, we just received our final clearance to our docking bay,” Lizzy announced as the plot appeared on the display. The trans-atmospheric fighter escort they’d picked up on the planet peeled off, returning to the carrier parked just off the station’s bow.
“ETA at the landing bay in fifteen minutes,” the ship said.
“Good, I’ll go get Mamma Dragon’s butt in gear.” The cat hopped down and Fitz followed him aft.
First she swung by the equipment bay, where the Praetorian honor guard was gearing up. “Fifteen minutes until skids down, people. Look sharp.”
She paused at the door to Ari’s quarters, where Nickolai Costos stood at parade rest. Fitz tried to compose her features in the detachment of command, but couldn’t keep the silly grin off her face. “We got him, Nick. We caught the assassin trying to sneak aboard the station.”
Surprise crossed his face, replaced by a wide smile. He pumped his fist, then quickly returned it to behind his back. “Yes, ma’am.”
As Fitz entered the royal quarters, a personal assistant fussed with Ari’s uniform, straightening each ribbon and button on the purple jacket. She waited for the woman to finish, bobbing up and down on her toes. Ari shot her a speculative look.
“That’ll be all for now, Sarah.” She waited until they were alone before turning to Fitz. “What is it?”
“They stopped Wolf trying to catch a shuttle up to Coronia. We have him in custody, and as soon as we finish up here, I can go and get him…bring him back.” Her voice broke as her throat closed up and tears spilled from her eyes.
Ari crossed the room and pulled her into an embrace, holding her as long as Fitz needed to let down her emotions, to not be the strong one and to take a little comfort from another human being. A need the past few days had denied her, denied her at the time she had most needed it. Eventually, she straightened.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’ve been blubbering all over your uniform. I’ve never been this emotional.”
“Then you’ve ne
ver been this much in love with someone before. Or come so close to losing him.” Ari brushed the tears from Fitz’s cheek. “It’s nice to know my tough little augie bodyguard is still human on the inside.”
Fitz nodded, slipping back into her hard-shelled warrior persona. “We should be arriving on station momentarily.”
Ari grinned, and Fitz didn’t trust that mischievous glint in her green eyes. “And with this threat removed, Colonel, I plan on relaxing and having a bit of fun on this official function. I want to take that new corvette out, give her a bit of a joy ride. Ever since I saw the first work-up on that ship, I’ve been itching to get at her helm. Just to fly something again, and not be chauffeured around like I’m too old and senile to be trusted at the controls.”
“Too valuable to risk,” Fitz amended. “And Captain Wellborn is not going to be happy to turn his new ship over to someone who hasn’t flown anything beyond a single shuttle in forty years. And you dinged it up.”
“That was in the heat of battle, and as long as you keep flying, a few scrapes don’t matter. And besides, Captain Wellborn is not about to tell the Emperor she can’t fly his ship. Technically, it’s not even his ship yet. Until Lister turns the Mad Dog over to me at that ceremony, it still belongs to them. I’m sure Miah will let me take it out for a spin.”
“Miah? You know her?”
“Back when she was Miah Sorrenson. She was one fine fighter jock, and later, during the War, a damn good ship driver. That was until Corrin Lister spirited her away to head his development and testing division, and then married her.”
Fitz remembered the striking young woman she’d met at the Hideyoshi Shipyards. “You knew her before you went to Baldark. That means she’s…”
“One of us. One of the original six who survived Lazzinair’s damn experiment at the Yebbix Field Hospital.” Regret filled her green eyes. “I warned her not to marry Lister, but they were so much in love. I can only imagine how painful it was to watch her partner grow older with each year, and eventually die, while she went on and on, unchanging.”
Cypher (The Dragon's Bidding Book 2) Page 17
