They did, reaching the station a moment after a new light-rail train slid to a stop. They jumped onto the train and the doors slid shut. Jack turned to look back, noting the crowd stumbling up the stairs as the train pulled away from the station.
Jack heaved a sigh of relief. “Good call, Calen.”
“Oh. We’re not done yet,” his brother replied.
“What do you have in mind?”
“We get off at the next station and hop on the very next train going back.”
“You want to go back?” demanded Jack.
Calen nodded. “They’re going to get on the next train to follow us, never expecting us to double back. We head back toward the docks, but stay on that train and go all the way to end of the line. There we go on foot following the docks northward back into our neighborhood. From there we can circle back to Valles Marineris.”
Jack glanced at Randal, who nodded his agreement to the plan.
“Sounds good to me,” said Randal. “The protestors saw us in the slums of the fishing district. They won’t expect us to pop up in the cliff region.”
“What about Bit?” demanded Blaine.
An idea sparked in Jack’s mind. “Blaine, these people are dangerous. You wouldn’t want to lead them back to Bit would you?”
Blaine hesitated a moment before shaking his head.
“Good. So you’ll help us lose them? Then we’ll worry about Bit?”
Blaine nodded.
“Good man, Blaine,” Randal said, clapping his officer on the shoulder.
The train slowed to a stop and they jumped off. They raced over the elevated walkway to the other side of the platform, arriving just in time to jump on a train heading back toward the docks. On this train, they took seats, forcing Blaine to take a seat. Jack tried to think of something to talk about, something to distract the fidgeting soldier, but each subject he thought of led back to Bit.
Finally, they reached the last stop and disembarked.
Jack frowned as they descended the steps down to the ground level street. He glanced over his shoulder, a shape nagging his memory—a man in a green windbreaker. It took him a moment to realize it was the same man they had bumped into at the hotel. Jack refrained from saying anything as they worked their way to Waterfront Road. They turned down the main thoroughfare and walked on. Jack waited until they had walked another block before he glanced casually over his shoulder.
The man in the green windbreaker was still there, looking up at the street signs.
“I think we have a tail,” he said to the three men surrounding him.
“Who?” asked Randal, his eyes still on the ground ahead of them.
“Black hair, green windbreaker, on our six.”
They stopped and Randal reached back to pull his pack around to his front, giving him a chance to glance surreptitiously over his shoulder. He caught sight of their tail in record time before dragging his pack over his shoulder. Blaine and Calen watched Randal’s movements, their eyes straining to look without turning their heads.
“It’s the guy with the cologne from the hotel,” Blaine said in a moment of clarity.
“Cologne?” Randal asked.
Jack nodded. “Blaine commented that the man smelled bad. I didn’t smell it myself.”
Randal dug into his pack until he produced a sweatshirt, which he pulled over his head, giving him another chance to scan their surroundings.
“He hasn’t moved on,” reported Randal. “What did he smell like?”
Blaine shrugged. “Bad cologne. Like lemon and motor oil.”
Randal’s breath caught in his chest. “We need to contact… Oden.”
Jack opened his mouth, realizing Randal didn’t mean Oden, but Bit, but didn’t want to say her name. Instead, he motioned for them to keep moving.
“First we need to lose him,” said Jack. “But you want to see if this man is the same man… same man as before.”
“Correct. Let’s cross the street,” suggested Randal.
As the ground-level traffic came to a stop, the four men dashed out into the street and weaved their way through the vehicles. They reached the center divider and stopped to assess the second half of the street. The traffic flowing in the opposite direction raced by, horns blaring as drivers noticed them balancing on the narrow divider.
“Great idea,” grumbled Calen as he adjusted the straps of the pack with the embryo box.
Within seconds the street filled with vehicles, backing up from the next red light to where they waited. They wasted no time, hitting the pavement at a run. On the opposite side, Jack glanced back to see the man in the windbreaker at the divider. Jack picked up his pace to catch up with his crew as they ran down the narrow sidewalk lining the deep seaside docks.
“Into the dock,” ordered Randal from the front of the line before swinging a leg over the railing and starting down the rungs of a ladder sunken into the concrete.
Blaine went down next, followed by Calen, and lastly Jack. He spotted their pursuer a half block away, stopped by a crew of fishermen lumbering along with a load of electro-net hinges slung between them. The man dodged from side to side, looking for a break between them, his eyes trained on Jack’s location.
They reached the lower level of the wharf, the gentle waves of Utopia Bay jostling the dock under their feet. Jack turned around to see what dock they had descended onto and found himself gazing on an enormous half-built fishing cruiser.
The entire northern hemisphere of Mars was ocean, and fishing was one of Mars’ main forms of employment—done via traditional sea-going ships and the more modern hover ships. Both had their pros and cons, according to his late cousin, who had been a Merchant Marine on Earth. The traditional ships had, of course, been prone to sinking in severe storms, but the hover ships were at risk in high winds—which Mars had. This half-built ship appeared to be a hover ship.
“What now?” Jack demanded, feeling trapped between the three-story high concrete wall at his back and the ship anchored in front of him.
“Follow me,” Randal ordered, dashing down the rocking dock.
They jogged after Randal until they reached a gangplank connecting the dock to a mid-level doorway—sans door. They crossed the gangplank, their eyes glued to the other end. Jack worked to keep his eyes from focusing on the sloshing water below as they climbed higher and higher. Jack glanced over his shoulder, amazed to see their pursuer hot on their tail, his glare fixed on his stony features.
They crossed into the ship, the workers crying out in surprise as they dashed past them. At top speed, they raced down a narrow hallway, jumping over knee-knockers and taking corners at full speed. Jack was amazed at the other man’s ability to keep up with them.
“We have to split up,” he said as softly as he could.
“The man will just go after Calen,” Randal panted.
“We need to all look like we have boxes in our packs,” Calen offered.
“Meaning we have to lose him for at least a few minutes,” said Blaine, finally being helpful. “Or we could just kill him.”
So much for helpful, Jack thought as they charged up a flight of stairs.
“No! We’re not killing anyone, especially if he can lead us back to whoever is doing this. Right now our goal is to get the embryos to safety,” said Randal.
“Everyone know where the Noctis Bar is on the cliffs?” asked Jack.
A chorus of agreements came back to him.
“Good. Blaine, I want you to slow him down. Do not kill him. Do you understand?” Jack asked.
“I understand. Engage, don’t kill.”
“Correct. Just buy us some time. We’ll make all our packs look like we have boxes in them. Then we’ll divide up, and he’ll not know who to chase,” he added in a whisper as they took another random turn. “We’ll all meet at the Noctis Bar in one hour.”
Everyone agreed to the plan. Blaine fell to the back of the group, dropping into a doorway and waited for their stalker to approach. A seco
nd later, Jack heard the tussle begin. He didn’t waste time looking back, but hurried to keep up with Randal’s longer legs.
They raced down another flight of stairs and took two more turns before they stumbled upon a bench loaded with various cardboard boxes. They found two about the right sizes, emptied them of their contents, and stuffed them into their bags, making sure the corners were visible through the canvas.
As they had intended, there was no way to tell their matching packs apart. They slung them back over their packs, keeping the embryos with Calen.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea keeping them with Calen?” Randal asked.
“Yes,” replied Jack. “One, I bet he will assume we will rotate the packs. Two, Calen is faster than either you or me. Three, it was Calen who came up with that train dash. I trust Calen to take care of them. Okay, Randal, you go out first and make your way out of the ship. Calen will leave here fifteen minutes later and head toward the east side of the ship. Fifteen minutes after him, I’ll leave. See you in an hour at the Noctis Bar.”
“See you later,” Randal said by way of parting.
Chapter Nineteen
Bit tightened her grip on Oden’s hand as they waited outside the entrance to the Carnal Cave strip club. The double doors were shrouded in the façade of a cave entrance, with bouncers garbed in black standing sentry. Oden and Bit waited as someone inside searched out the woman in question, checking to see if she admitted to knowing Oden Peek. Bit tried to keep her eyes on the pavement, but they kept wandering to the faces of the men at the doors.
Much like the mountain of a man guarding the door of Logan’s club, these men were enormous specimens, standing at least six foot four with shoulders spanning the full width of a single door. Bit wondered if they needed to turn sideways to walk down an average hallway. They certainly wouldn’t be comfortable in the confined quarters of the Lenore. She had no doubt steroids had been involved in their formation.
Bit averted her eyes as they noticed her attention and began to take in their surroundings. The Carnal Cave was situated on a narrow street, the tall buildings touching side by side, just like Jack’s neighborhood, with elevated walkways. Above their heads, Bit spotted other entrances to night clubs, strip clubs, restaurants, and bars.
At last, one of the bouncers tilted his head as his ear piece rumbled with sound. He nodded to his companion and they pulled the double doors open to reveal a man in a creased suit.
“I am Mr. Astin. I will escort you to Daisy,” he said, waving for them to cross the threshold.
Oden led Bit into the dim entrance of the club. Bit huddled into Oden’s shoulder, nearly tripping him. The large room was nearly divided by a raised catwalk, marred by three sleek poles. Lights shown on the poles, slowly rotating through various colors though the stage was empty. The far wall was lined with mirrors, throwing their image back at them. Bit tried to adjust her features to hide her discomfort, but the more she saw of the strip club, the more her heart raced.
A woman draped in a see-through robe sauntered past on bare feet, her risqué costume visible underneath. Bit quickly averted her eyes to two men in black t-shirts with the word “crew” printed across their backs. The men hung from delicate scaffolding, working on a row lights.
Bit and Oden, along with their guide, weaved their way through the various rows of booths and plush lounge chairs to the back of the enormous room. Across the back wall, hidden in the maze of mirrors, sat two doors. Mr. Astin reached for the handle just as one of the crew members yelled: “Work lights coming on!”
Row upon row of L.E.D lights flashed on as the stage lights dimmed out, transforming the appearance of the dimly-lit arena from one of sexuality to a stained, worn-out diner with a stage. Bit turned back to look at Oden as he led her through the door after Mr. Astin.
They entered a narrow, smoke-stained hallway. Bit stifled a cough as the odor of smoke, sweat, and something she couldn’t identify accosted her senses. Their guide threw a glare at her over his shoulder as he reached a door labeled “Dancers’ Dressing Room.”
Women crowded the brightly lit room, each wearing less than the next girl. Bit felt her face flush with embarrassment. She glanced up at Oden, wanting to shield his eyes from the sight of so many nearly-naked women. To her astonishment, he was already staring hard at the floor, his cheeks burning with their own blush.
From what little she knew of him, she knew him to be a man of the world, educated in the ways of romance and women. She hadn’t expected him to be embarrassed by naked flesh the way she was. His eyes flickered to her and his blush darkened. Bit frowned up at him, amazed to find Oden’s embarrassment was not at seeing naked women, but at having Bit be witness to it—he didn’t like the idea of Bit being witness to his guilt.
A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. His discomfort amused her enough to help her momentarily forget the working women filling the room.
“Oden!” cried a woman dressed in an outfit made entirely of white feathers as she dashed across the room and flung herself into his arms.
Oden caught her up in his arms, shock draining the blush from his face.
“Daisy,” he said as he pulled her away from his chest. “We need to talk to you.”
“Who’s this cute thing?” she asked, bouncing back a few steps to look at Bit.
“This is Bit. She’s a crew member on my ship.”
“She’s adorable! Oh sweetheart, I hope Oden hasn’t broken your heart. I swear there’s not a girl here who hasn’t had her heart broken by Oden!”
Bit grinned up at her friend, ignoring her own discomfort with the woman’s half-concealed breasts bouncing with each statement. The pilot’s blush returned as he tried to find a safe place to look.
“Nope. My heart is intact, not for a lack of trying on Oden’s part,” Bit added, just to watch Oden squirm.
Oden’s jaw dropped as he turned his gaze back on Bit.
“Oh, good girl!” cried Daisy, bouncing again, the feathers of her outfit doing a little dance of their own.
Oden cleared his throat. “Daisy, can we talk? It’s important.”
Daisy pursed her plump lips. “Yes, yes. C’mon.”
The curvy stripper led them to her make-up stand, waving to a woman already changed into street clothing and making tracks for the door. Daisy perched on her chair, pulling a cigarette out of a box and offering them each one. They declined. Oden took a seat on the next swiveling chair, dragging Bit to sit on his knee. It hurt her ribs, but she allowed it, mostly to watch the slight glare in Daisy’s undeserving eyes. The stripper clearly had a thing for Oden, and Bit didn’t find her worthy of her friend’s affection.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
Bit felt a bag of rocks settle in her stomach. Annoying Daisy wasn’t her goal. She had to reign in her mischievousness if she hoped to get the information she needed. Bit considered standing up, removing herself from Oden’s knee, but feared the move would seem awkward after remaining on his lap for so many seconds. Bit swallowed a lump in her throat, no longer enjoying the game of annoying Daisy.
“At one point, you had a client that was a key player in Mars Genetics Consortium.”
Daisy gave Oden a wicked smile, completely ignoring Bit. “Oden, still keeping track of my client list?”
“Just wondering if he still sees you?”
“Gregory Winsington, the CFO for MGC? Yes, he comes around every couple weeks. Spends a pretty dime too.”
“Probably more than a dime,” murmured Oden.
“Jealous?” asked Daisy with a playful grin as she carefully placed the cigarette between her red lips.
Bit crossed her arms, trying her best to look jealous. She hoped Daisy would spill more information if she thought she was winning Oden’s attention. Oden glanced at Bit and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, as though he noticed her jealousy and fought to ease her fears.
Dammit, Oden, Bit thought to herself. Don’t you see what’s happening here?
&nbs
p; Not for the first time in her life, Bit wished she was telepathic. The stripper’s keen eyes took in Oden’s hand gently placed on Bit’s shoulder. Her red lips pursed and she quickly dabbed her cigarette butt into the ash tray.
“Yes, I see Gregory. Why do you ask?” she asked, all playfulness gone from her voice.
Bit suddenly rose to her feet and took a step away from Oden. He looked at her, hurt playing in his eyes. With her back to Daisy, she flicked her eyes between Oden and the stripper, hoping he got the quick message. Oden quickly cleared his features of any hurt and smiled at the curvy woman.
“Mr. Winsington always did have the best taste,” Oden said, a little grin playing at his lips as he reached across and caressed Daisy’s fingers, still gripping the cigarette butt. “He ever talk about MGC?”
Daisy’s lips turned back up into a smile, her expressive eyes flicking to Bit to see her expression. Bit kept her expression neutral—with-a-dash-of-angry, as though it was a struggle. The expression brought a bigger smile to Daisy’s painted lips.
“Occasionally. The last time he was here he went on and on about some new project,” Daisy said as she removed her hand from Oden’s to withdraw a fresh cigarette.
Oden responded by lighting it for her. “He ever say what it was?”
“Something about embryos. It was kinda gross.”
Bit struggled to keep the excitement off her face.
“What did he say about it?”
Daisy shrugged. “That it was going to make the company a lot of money. And that the competition is pissed, which of course makes him horny as hell.”
Oden glanced at Bit, a light sparking in his eyes.
“Who’s the competition?” asked Bit.
Daisy rolled his eyes as she replied, “Brighter Futures Biometrics, of course. Everyone knows that. Where’d you get this girl? Really, Oden.”
“You have any contacts with anyone from Brighter Futures?” asked Oden, ignoring her jab at Bit.
Daisy shook her head. “Course not. Winsington wouldn’t stand for it. I think Crystal over there services someone from Brighter Futures.”
Bit and Oden glanced at the woman in question. She was a curvy woman like Daisy, but with startling purple hair instead of glossy brown.
Broken & Hunted Page 17
