Losing Time (Lost Time, Book 1): A Time Travel Romantic Suspense Series

by Nicola Claire

  “What if he doesn’t show?” I asked, the agents watching and listening intently. Guns raised, fingers on their triggers.

  “He’ll show,” Jack said softly. “I would,” he added and then stilled completely, as if afraid to move a muscle.

  I flicked my eyes to the side, tipped my head to look up at him.

  “Jack? What makes you think that lunatic would do anything that you would do?”

  He smiled, it was nothing like the grin he’d just given the feds. It was Jack’s now familiar grimace.

  “Can we discuss this later, Miss Wylde?”

  My eyes darted back to the agents.

  “You bet your British arse we will,” I growled.

  I heard him huff out a burst of laughter.

  “What the fuck are you two playing at?” Dawson finally demanded.

  “Our jobs, Special Agent Dawson,” Jack replied.

  “To sabotage NASA property?” he snarled.

  “We didn’t sabotage anything,” I argued. “You’ve got such a one track mind.”

  “That’s it!” Dawson shouted. “On the fucking ground now or we shoot you!”

  Where was he? Where was Sergei Ivanov right now? Watching, a dimension away? Or ignoring us completely? Laughing his Russian arse off as he downed a shot of vodka and did God knows what to Carrie?

  “This really isn’t necessary,” Jack insisted.

  “Oh, but I think it is,” Dawson growled back.

  “Dr Hoffman?” Jack called.

  “Shit Creek. Sir.” Rafe shouted back.

  “Who’s there?” Carter yelled. “Show yourself.” Rafe didn’t appear. “Who else is here?” he yelled at us instead.

  “My crew,” Jack replied smugly.

  “How many? Get them out here!”

  “Miss Groves?”

  “Yes, sir?” she called from inside the Vehicle.

  “Get ready.”

  Sally remained silent, but I knew her hand would be shaking as it hovered over the return button. I wondered absently if she’d mended the rip yet. Maybe it hadn’t got big enough to go, how did Jack put it? Supernova. Maybe that was why Sergei wasn’t here.

  I fingered the concrete slab in my hand. I took a quick look over my shoulder at the crippled Orion. It could go back to RATS without us, but it clearly couldn’t do much else.

  We could go too. We could run on board while they fired at our backs. We might even make it.

  And then Carrie would be lost to Sergei.

  I looked at the thrumming feds. At the bristling KSC security guards. At the shadows as they lengthened towards me like crooked fingers in the dark.

  Please don’t kill the special agents, Miss Wylde.

  Well, someone had to rip this time apart.

  I let the rock fly, watched as it arced through the air towards them; heard Jack shout out a warning, felt him throw his body into mine as gunfire sounded. Saw the ground rush up to meet me. With a bone-jarring crunch, we hit concrete as the special agents’ bullets hit the Orion.

  Time warped. I vaguely saw I’d missed both Dawson and Carter; the concrete wedged into the grille of their SUV. But their aim had been true. The Orion puffed out a cloud of gas, emitted a loud pop that deafened, and then caught on fire.

  “Sally!” I screamed, just as a Lunik flashed into sight.

  Return!

  Jack

  She’d shattered this time. I was shocked at her audacity. And equally as proud. A 21st century bullet, or two, lay lodged into a 23rd century Orion. Time didn’t like the conflict.

  And neither did Sergei Ivanov.

  Bullets flew in all directions as I crawled towards Mimi. Rafe rounded the side of the Orion, hurtled through the hatch, and hauled Sally Groves out. Smoke billowed up behind them, alarms bleeped persistently into the night, and the angry, confused shouts of the agents and security guards rose above it all.

  And still, Sergei fired.

  I rolled us towards the Orion, the only obvious source of cover, even if it was about to explode. My hands frantically checking Mimi for injuries, as I covered her head with my torso to protect her from any stray bullets.

  “What the bloody fucking hell was that?” Rafe yelled as we grouped together behind the hatch door.

  “A bullet,” I replied, worry making my answer curt. Mimi hadn’t moved, wasn’t fighting my hurried assessment of her body. Her chest rose and fell, her eyelids flickered, but otherwise, she wasn’t there.

  I found the culprit when my fingers came away red from the back of her head.

  “Oh, God,” Sally murmured, rushing forward to check the injury. “I’ve got her,” she offered. “Secure the vessel.”

  “Who’s in charge here, Miss Groves?” I demanded, but her words had me moving, even if all I wanted to do was stay with Mimi.

  “Can you get back inside and put out that fire?” I asked Rafe.

  “I can give it a damn good try if you cover me.”

  “With what?”

  He thrust a gun in my hand. “Sergei’s from our time. Or has been for a while. Shoot back.”

  I lifted the gun, aimed, and fired. Rafe took the opportunity and slinked back inside the Orion.

  “Watch out for Carrie,” Mimi muttered from the ground, loud enough to hear, but still far too weak for my liking.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Peachy,” she mumbled.

  “Stay still. You’ve got a bruise forming,” Groves growled, wrapping a strip of torn jumpsuit around Mimi’s forehead.

  “Nice,” Mimi said, touching the bandage and wincing.

  “Do as she says, Miss Wylde,” I ordered, keeping my eyes on the battle ensuing.

  At least Sergei had provided us with a distraction; his shots were now aimed at the KSC guards and the federal agents. We were momentarily forgotten, for now.

  Mimi moved to a crouch beside me, peering around the edge of the hatch door. Her movements were stiff, but her eyes seemed clear and bright. Yet all I wanted to do was push her to the ground behind me and fire blindly at anything out there that moved a single inch.

  “It’s now or never,” she announced.

  “Now or never for what?” I demanded.

  She blinked up at me. “I’m getting my sister, Jack. While the feds keep him busy, I’m going in.”

  “You’ll do no such thing!”

  “Watch me!”

  She made to move, but her motions were still sluggish. I had an arm about her waist before she’d managed to cover a metre of ground.

  “Argh!” she growled as she fought my hold. Feebly. Every struggle she gave made her face pinch in pain and her hands shake a little more.

  “Calm down,” I ordered. “For the love of God, Mouse, calm down.”

  She stopped fighting and just lay there panting. My heart nose-dived. My head reeled.

  This was it. Let her go - or at least let her save Carolyn - and maybe lose her forever.

  Keep holding her too tightly and lose her anyway.

  Bloody fucking bollocks!

  “We go together.” She nodded her head slowly. “I’ll cover you. You grab Carolyn. Then we retreat.”

  “OK,” she said.

  “Keep an eye on things, Miss Groves.”

  “Sure,” she said unconvinced.

  “Send a signal when Dr Hoffman has this Vehicle under control again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ready?” I asked Mimi.

  “No,” she replied. “But that’s never stopped me before.”

  And that’s why I loved her. That’s why she was going to destroy me.

  I nodded my head, checked the magazine in the gun, and then followed her out.

  The scene was one I’d witnessed many times before, in many different times. Syracuse. Hastings. Orléans. Waterloo. Normandy. This was small on the scale of war, but death is death. And when delivered so brutally it has its similarities. The sounds. The smells. The taste on your tongue of gunpowder and flesh wounds and fire.
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br />   Someone had been shot, maybe more than one person, it was hard to tell. But Sergei was ripping this time apart, perhaps in self-defence; he’d been the one wielding a gun when he’d emerged from his Lunik. The federal agents had turned their attention to the real threat and chaos had simply followed.

  One shot from the Russian and the contemporaries retaliated.

  One shot from them and Sergei returned fire.

  It was a catch 22, but he wouldn’t stay here for long. He’d retreat, regroup, and change his strategy. It’s what I’d do. It’s what I’d taught him to do. I pushed that uncomfortable thought from my mind.

  But if we could get onboard his Vehicle while he was distracted, retrieve Carolyn Wylde and hit the self-destruct button, then we might just be able to save some lives and get out of this with something to show for our efforts.

  That’s if we didn’t get hit by a stray bullet first.

  Mimi ducked as something whizzed past her ear. The Lunik protested loudly. Gas mixed with smoke mixed with gunpowder. Sergei yelled out an insult in Russian. It might have had something to do with Dawson’s mother.

  We rounded the side of the Lunik, inching forward on our hands and knees, heads tucked down, eyes darting, gun hand at the ready. The door was open, providing an easy retreat for Sergei. The internal lights were on, and the console was active. Coordinates had been entered for a retreat location. My eyes took everything in in a split second. The sine wave on the screen. The warning lights on the dashboard. The smell of burned electrical wires and fire fighting foam. The soft grunt of someone working hard at something. The countdown on the centre console that indicated Sergei had a backup plan.

  Evacuation in T-minus two minutes. All in Russian. All foreign to Mimi no doubt. But not to me.

  And not to Carolyn Wylde.

  I watched as she entered a command, using Cyrillic script with practised moves. I watched as the command was received by the Vehicle’s computer and then a second countdown appeared. I watched as she lifted her hand over the red button, her eyes glancing over her shoulder towards the door, and landing on us.

  “Mouse,” she whispered. “Oh, no,” she added. “You have to leave.”

  “Not without you,” Mimi growled.

  It was too late. My mouth became too dry to speak. My eyes too moist to see clearly.

  This was going to hurt.

  “Get out of here, Mouse!” Carolyn yelled. “Get back on your Vehicle and go home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you!”

  “Can’t you see?” Carolyn yelled beseechingly. “This is all for you. If I do this, he’ll leave you alone. If I stay, I can protect you. It’s what I’ve been doing. It’s what I do.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Mimi yelled back.

  “Get outta here, Mouse.” Carolyn turned back to the console and hit the button. The second countdown began as the computer issued a warning in Russian.

  “Bomb activated. Detonation in t-minus three minutes.”

  “We’ve got to go,” I said.

  “Get her out of here, Rat,” Carolyn growled. Then in Russian to me, she added, “I’ll distract him, while you run. You’ve got less than three minutes.”

  I nodded my head and reached for Mimi. “What the effing hell?” she cried, her eyes all for her sister. And then they shifted, taking in the Cyrillic, flicking to Carolyn’s fingers, and then the keyboard where she’d just been typing.

  “How long?” she whispered.

  “T-minus one minute to evacuation,” the computer sounded in Russian.

  “Too long,” Carolyn replied.

  “Come with us. Please,” Mimi pleaded. “We can fix this.”

  Carolyn just smiled. “I’m the older sister now, Mouse. By more than three-hundred seconds.”

  “No,” Mimi cried. “What has he done?”

  “Nothing I didn’t agree to.”

  “To save me,” Mimi guessed.

  “Let me do my job, Mouse. Let me keep saving you. Go.”

  “Mimi,” I urged tugging on her jumpsuit. “Sweetheart, come on. It’s too late.”

  She knew. Mimi’s was one of the most intelligent, quick minds of her generation. Of her time and I was thinking, perhaps, of mine now too.

  She knew it was too late for Carrie. Her sister had chosen her side. For good reasons, but it was long done now. Lost time is never found again.

  “I love you,” Mimi whispered. “I will find you,” she vowed.

  “Not if I can help it.” Carrie lifted a weapon up from beside her and aimed it at my head. “Run!”

  Mimi squeaked, tugged on my sleeve, and pulled me back out the hatch just as Carolyn Wylde fired.

  The bullet flew over our heads, out of the entrance to the Lunik, and blindsided Sergei. He yelled, rolled, and came up firing. But not at the Lunik, at us, as we ran and dodged, and ducked and dived, and somehow made it back to the Orion alive.

  I pushed Mimi through the hatch, rolling in behind her in a hail of bullets, and shouted, “Return!”

  The door was latched behind us by an efficient Rafe, and the second the capsule was contained, Sally slammed her palm down on the red button. I didn’t have time to be thankful for my flight team.

  Lights flashed, sirens screamed, the Orion rocketed into space-time as if on fire. I was betting it probably still was. We rolled around on the metal floor unrestrained as rivets exploded, and cabinets doors burst off, and first aid kits came raining down. And a foul smelling liquid sloshed over our bodies, drenching us all.

  With an earsplitting boom, we landed, barely breathing, barely moving, barely seeing straight at all.

  I expected a technician to open the hatch, but none came.

  I expected someone to contact us through the communicator now we were back at Shadowship, but silence reigned.

  Just the ticking of our Vehicle and the soft whoop-whoop of internal alarms and the smell of electrical circuitry burning mixed with biological nitrates.

  And the sounds of intermittent gunfire from inside RATS.

  And Then Silence

  Mimi

  I could hardly breathe. My chest hurt. I could hardly see. My eyes were full of tears. I could hardly think. My mind was reeling. Dear God, what had I done? I’d failed to rescue Carrie.

  I couldn’t get the image of her in the Lunik out of my mind. I couldn’t stop seeing the foreign words up on the screen and her hands flying over the keyboard writing them. I couldn’t stop hearing her say something to Jack in Russian.

  This didn’t make sense. None of it did. Carrie had only been gone as long as me. A few days. A handful of hours. This couldn’t be happening.

  But it was. Carrie could speak Russian. Carrie could operate that Lunik. Carrie fired a gun at Jack.

  I rolled over, a moan escaping me; it could have been for all the bruises and scrapes I’d managed to acquire. Or just because my heart was aching. My palm landed in a puddle of blue liquid that smelled disgustingly like the toilet, successfully breaking my train of thought for a moment.

  “Argh,” I managed, as Sally groaned and Rafe muttered something indecipherable, but undoubtedly a swearword, and Jack remained motionless.

  I wanted to move to him. I wanted to check he was OK. But my mind returned to Carrie, and my body refused to shift a muscle.

  Carrie in the Lunik. Carrie tapping away on a keyboard that made no sense. Carrie ordering Jack around as if she knew him. Carrie lifting a gun up and firing at his head. If I hadn’t pulled him backwards out that door would the bullet have hit home?

  I was thinking, yes.

  Carrie had shot to kill.

  A sob escaped, and I felt Sally’s hand come to rest on my shoulder. My ears buzzed. My head felt dizzy. My eyes couldn’t seem to focus.

  “Gunshots,” Jack said from the floor, beginning to shift gingerly upright. “Someone’s firing outside the Vehicle.”

  “At us?” Sally squeaked.

  “No, they sound farther away. Not in the hanga
r.”

  “RATS is under attack,” Rafe said quietly, pushing up to his feet and moving to a key code locked cabinet.

  “Is everyone all right?” Jack asked, brushing his jumpsuit down absently. The orange was now coated in blue, making a strange pattern appear. He looked terrible.

  He looked as bad as I was feeling.

  But his heart wouldn’t have been breaking, would it?

  Oh God, Carrie. I’d failed.

  Rafe had opened the cabinet and was pulling out weapons, handing them to Jack and Sally. I didn’t know how to fire a gun, let alone long nosed rifle looking things like the ones everyone was grasping.

  Carrie did, I should think. Carrie knew so much more than me. Where had she been? Where had the time gone? Why didn’t she come with me?

  And that’s perhaps the one thing that hurt the most. Carrie refusing to save herself. Carrie choosing to be a martyr to protect me. Whatever Sergei Ivanov had promised Carrie she believed by staying with him she was keeping me safe.

  I didn’t need her protection, nor want it. I wanted my sister back.

  “It’s not your fault, Mouse,” Jack said softly.

  I looked up and found all three of them watching me. I was the only one still sitting on the floor in a puddle of blue. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

  It is my fault!

  “It’s not your fault, Mouse,” Jack repeated.

  “We were too late,” I whispered.

  “We were too late the moment she was taken,” he said softly, gently. That tone. “You never had a chance of convincing her to leave him. The decision had already been made. He’d had her too long, Mimi. He’s had her too long.”

  I didn’t want to believe that. I didn’t want to think my sister couldn’t be rescued at all. I couldn’t believe that. But what could I do?

  Carrie was gone. And I was here at RATS. Time had changed. For us and for the Time Surgeons. Altered by Ivanov, aided by Carrie, sealed in its fate by me.

  I was not returning to my time. I would not go back without her.

  “Jack,” Rafe said, moving to the door. “We need to find out what’s happening out there.”