Cosmic Diamonds (Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventures Book 4)

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Cosmic Diamonds (Whitney Powers Paranormal Adventures Book 4) Page 12

by Jason Paul Rice


  Crunch.

  The green bolt splintered the back of his skull, raced through his brain barely slowing down and exited through Glint’s left eye. The bolt hit the warehouse’s signboard before Glint’s body or a drop of blood hit the ground.

  Roxelle turned to Whitney and Trent and casually put the blaster with a smoking barrel back into its holster. She smiled. “He was planning to fuck us over. I just know it. He’s the reason why things got messed up at the warehouse. He changed the plan at the last moment. I told him if anything got fucked up it was his ass.”

  They climbed the five steps and boarded the cabin of the Cavum Nigrum. The crew was panicked and bleeding and trying to regain control of the situation. Everyone took their breathing pills before the craft took to the air.

  The injuries had been deemed superficial. Mimick opened a door and exposed a robot shaped like a human, about five feet tall. He pulled the gold-tinted, anatomically neutral robot out into the open. Whitney read the writing across its chest.

  She chuckled internally. Mimick went to the back of the robot and programmed the doctor to stitch up the gash on Harrins Lowry’s leg. Blue, green and red lights flashed around the flat, oval face.

  The computer doctor spoke in a programmed, monotone voice. “I will require Kit number four and Kit number seventeen to perform this surgery.”

  Mimick ran and opened another door on the wall of the cabin. He pulled a flat white case out and raced to the other side of the cabin. He flung open another door and ripped out another white case of the same proportions.

  He carried them over to the Droid MD and opened the cases. He set them on either side of the doctor and backed away. The doctor’s golden hand reached into one of the cases and pulled out a needle.

  Harrins shook her head. “Aw, I hate needles.”

  Whitney was waiting for the Droid MD to tell the patient, ‘This will only hurt for a moment. Or this will just be a slight pinch.’

  The golden droid flicked the needle and a few drops of the neon red liquid fell to the floor. He lined up the tip of the needle and got ready to inject it, when something rocked the spacecraft and knocked more than half of the beings down, including the good doctor. Whitney maintained her balance and helped Trent get up.

  The craft was rocked again and this time Whitney went down.

  Roxelle screamed, “What the fuck is going on?”

  Mimick yelled back, “We seem to be under attack.”

  Roxelle cocked her head to the side. “No shit. How did someone find us this fast? They would have needed to know exactly where we were going. Get beings to the particle beam canons and plasma launchers so we can fight back.”

  Mimick pointed to her wrist. “It’s the trackers. The owners probably figured out who some of us were and tracked our signals.”

  Harrins said, “Well, we need to get rid of them somehow.”

  “What are we going to do, cut them out?” Oswell asked.

  Mimick turned to the Droid MD. “Perhaps we can program our friend here to conduct a removal surgery.” Mimick tried to program the doctor, and a big red light covered the doctor’s face.

  Droid MD said, “I cannot perform a surgery that removes a tracking device. These surgeries are illegal and carry a penalty of death.”

  Whitney casually said, “If only someone could re-program this little guy.”

  Roxelle screamed, “Well don’t just stand there, fucking do it. We will have to take shifts manning the canon and getting these things taken out. Let’s go, bitch.”

  “I don’t know. I remember you willing to let me rot in jail because it wasn’t convenient for you. Or how about current events like when you were going to leave me to take the fall back there on Panmay. Or maybe you just planned to kill me and save the agony of sitting in jail for a few days. Say you need me bitch.” Whitney knew their lives were at risk, but she reveled in the opportunity to get even with Roxelle.

  The alien leader turned her back on Whitney. “Aw, hell no. We’re all going to die if that’s what this comes down to.”

  Another blast violently thrashed the craft to the left. Whitney looked in Roxelle’s eyes. “You’re lucky.”

  She moved to the keyboard screen on the back of Droid MD. She punched away and quickly recoded the doctor’s safety shut off for performing illegal operations. The crew lined up to have their tracking chips removed as Mimick ran around grabbing the necessary Kits for the surgery.

  The stitch work left a lot to be desired, but at least nobody was going to bleed to death. They put the trackers into a stone bowl to throw out the disposal.

  The frantic crew hustled around to defend the craft and get the trackers removed. Whitney got the sinking feeling that one more hit might be the end of this beautiful spacecraft.

  Droid MD finished his sloppy surgeries and Harrins limped over to the disposal. She opened the chamber and dumped all the devices in. She hurriedly closed the door and pressed the button to thrust the material into space.

  The spacecraft dipped to the left and right before finally straightening out. The incoming fire came to a stop. The haggard crew started to celebrate.

  Roxelle looked Whitney up and down. “Thanks.”

  Whitney nodded in silence, feeling like a badass. Whitney programmed the doctor to stitch up Oswell’s grazing gunshot wound to the hip and Harrins’ diamond cut on her right leg. She set up the last procedure for Boggle Rigby’s torn anterior cruciate ligament.

  The frenetic pace of her heart finally slowed down to almost normal. Mimick showed Trent and Whitney to their room. The small area housed a bed and a desk with no drawers. The highlight of the room was a square viewport exposing the wonders of space.

  “Holy Smokey the Bear,” Whitney exclaimed. “I mean, we’ve been involved in some serious stuff before but this is insane. We still have to figure out…” Whitney stopped and searched the room for listening devices. She felt safe enough. “We still have to figure out how to stop this. Any ideas?”

  Trent gritted his teeth and seemed nervous. “I usually would never say this on a mission, but I’m scared we aren’t going to be able to stop them. The rest is just a flight through space before the takeover. Can you re-program the flight pattern so we wreck?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Whitney pointed out, “I like your zest, but if we do that, you and I will die. And that leaves Lancelot on his own.”

  Trent smirked and fell onto the bed. “Guess I didn’t think that one through and through.”

  “No, you didn’t. But I still love you all the same.” She snuggled up in bed with her man. “You know, we’ve already had sex on three different planets so doing it while we are flying through space should be nothing.” She rubbed his biceps with her left hand.

  Trent gave her a soft kiss. “Sounds like you want to join the seventy-five-million-miles-high club.”

  “Probably light years, but I’m with you.” Whitney smiled as her tense muscles finally had a chance to loosen up a little. Since the jailing, her body had been sore and weary. Trent massaged her shoulders and started to work out a bit of the tightness and one thing led to another.

  They lay on the small bed, basking in the afterglow of interstellar sex. Whitney stared into her husband’s eyes, happy to be alive after the recent events.

  Trent said softly, “I can’t believe she blew off Glint’s head like that. I guess that’s the way to show people you don’t mess around.”

  Whitney hadn’t felt much sympathy for the man. “Whatever. He was going to let me rot in jail and eventually die anyway, so screw that guy. I mean, nobody really deserves to get shot in the head, but he kind of did.”

  “Damn, girl. So Glint and Marlowe are dead. Seven of the twenty beings we never got a chance to meet are dead too. These are blood diamonds to the fullest,” Trent pointed out.

  “I was hoping the sex would clear my head so I could construct a plan to derail this operation.” Whitney closed her eyes and hoped the answer would pop into her head.
r />   “And?”

  She waited a few moments and couldn’t come up with a solution. “Nothing. I’m still thinking about reprogramming the course flight so that the aim of the laser is off. I don’t even think that would work, but I’m still trying.”

  Trent framed her face with his hand and thumbed Whitney’s dry lips. “What we’ll need to do is case the interior of this craft wherever we go. Try to find something that might help us throw a monkey wrench into this plan. I’m starting to get a little nervous about it though considering the time constraints.”

  “The clock is definitely not in our favor right now. They said it wouldn’t take too long to get to Soro Exxo. Our work is going to be cut out for us.” She smirked.

  “I’ve always hated that phrase, but I suppose it’s apt for this situation. Oh, what are we going to do?” Trent pulled the blanket up.

  “Maybe we have to kill all of them and take over the craft.” She widened her eyes.

  Trent immediately threw water on her idea. “Considering we can’t use the blasters because it’s too close range. They would rip a hole in the side of the craft. We would have to physically overtake everyone with our brute strength. We better hope nobody is listening to this conversation.”

  Right on cue, a firm knock pounded against the door several times. Whitney immediately concluded that they had been spied on. She looked to Trent for reassurance only to be met by a confused face and shrugging shoulders. Trent got up and put on his suit pants.

  18

  Whitney covered her naked body with the gray blanket.

  Trent yelled toward the door, “Who is it?”

  An unfamiliar voice called out, “Your presence is requested in the cabin. It is mandatory.”

  Whitney heard skipping footsteps that quickly left earshot. She jumped up in bed. “What do you think they want? Were they listening to us?” Whitney began to panic as she looked around for her suit.

  Trent spoke calmly, almost in a whisper, “Let’s just relax for a minute. If they wanted to kill us, they would have just kicked in the door and done it, no?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they want to make some sick ritual out of it. Did you ever think of that?” Whitney zipped up her tight top and slid on the shiny black pants.

  “This isn’t going to be reassuring, but we are in their hands. Let’s go see what they want. If someone is waiting outside this door, then we can panic.” Trent buttoned up the armor vest and nodded to Whitney.

  He opened the door and a tall being wearing the same type of armor as Trent, except for a helmet with a see-through visor was waiting outside. This being’s armor was a shiny purple. Whitney had a sinking feeling and decided purple was no longer her favorite color. The silent sentinel waited for the couple to exit the room and followed them down the narrow hallway.

  They entered the open cabin and most of the crew was seated around the conference table in the center. The room became hushed as the couple approached. There were diagrams and maps scattered on the table but Whitney’s focus had been snagged by the three plasma blasters in front of Roxelle.

  Whitney tried to simultaneously keep her cool and search the area for anything that could compromise the mission. She scanned the table and couldn’t find a welcoming face in the bunch. Her manic state ratcheted up a few more notches as she and Trent sat down in the upholstered red chairs. She kept trying to swallow the dry lump in her throat without any success.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her suit, forgetting that it was waterproof, and only smeared the perspiration on her thighs. None of the stern faces spoke, only increasing the havoc being wreaked on her nerves.

  Finally, Roxelle said, “We called you in here for one reason and one reason only.” She reached out and stroked the handle of one of the plasma blasters. Her index finger danced dangerously close to the trigger. Her eyes shifted to Whitney. “We all wanted to say something to you especially. Thank you.”

  Whitney exhaled the most relieving exhale of her life, releasing all the tension that had built up over the past few days. The rest of the crew chimed in, mostly talking over each other to give praise to the woman who had saved their lives. Whitney immediately realized that this group hadn’t much experience with giving thanks by the begrudging tone. It was almost as if it were the first time they were doing it.

  She wanted to smile from ear to ear, but she pushed her lips together and simply nodded her head in acceptance.

  Roxelle added, “That goes for you too, Trent. I heard about your shooting skills outside the warehouse and even on the moving hoverHauler on the way to the getaway craft. Who would have thought two earth humans would be our saviors?”

  Mimick cleared his throat in a very conspicuous manner.

  Roxelle smiled at him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I don’t want to hear any of that from you.” She turned to Trent and Whitney. “You helped us get to the craft and little squirt here helped us out of a major jam. Reprogramming Droid MD might have been the most important factor in our survival so far. Since you’ve helped us so much, we’ve decided we’re going to let you release the laser. You get to press the button to send the intelligent beam to destroy Soro Exxo’s safety shield. And then you can live like a king and a queen with an entire planet of ghost slaves.”

  Whitney reluctantly said, “Thanks.” Deep down, she was terrified to find out she would be the direct reason for the annihilation of her friends on Soro Exxo.

  Mimick pulled his chair closer to the table and pointed to the diagram of Soro Exxo’s shield. “We will arrive in this area right here.” He traced his metal finger over an area just outside the shield. “Time will be of the utmost essence. I highly doubt they would open the shield to send a defense fleet out.”

  Boggle Rigby cut in. “Yeah, but they could get in contact with spacecraft and stations that orbit their planet or are in the area. Do we know if any of those stations are being used for defense?”

  Mimick responded, “I was broaching that topic before I was interrupted. As far as we know, they will not have any craft in open space that can destroy the Cavum Nigrum.”

  Oswell cleared his throat. “Are you taking into account the damage we’ve already sustained?”

  Roxelle said, “The crew is still assessing the damage as we speak. They will have a detailed report to us relatively soon. I can’t say exactly when, but it will give us a chance to plan a better attack.”

  Mimick spoke calmly, “They already confirmed that no damage has occurred to the laser’s holding block. I don’t think anyone is going to climb into the compartment to check, but we seem to have dodged a laser on this one.” He smiled slowly.

  Oswell slammed his hand on the table. “Not funny, dude. We’ll have plenty of time for jokes once we reach our new planet.”

  Mimick shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, it should seem that we are going ahead with the plan unless the technicians tell us otherwise. I for one am thankful that our diamond loaders also double as craftsmen.”

  Oswell turned to Roxelle. “How did you know that Glint was going to betray us?”

  The leader’s eyes opened wide. “Are you kidding me? Changing the plan at the last moment so that he was more involved. Why do you think so many beings died back there at the warehouse? That asshole changed plans at the last moment and I know he sent for security. I know it. He wanted to cover his ass in case anything went wrong. Let’s get some drinks in here. Daisy Dolls all around.”

  Boggle asked, “What were you saying about Glint?”

  Roxelle continued, “I know he called so that if we were overtaken, he could simply claim that he came to check on the warehouse and it was being robbed. He tried to play both sides and was only worried about himself. If anyone doubts me, answer this. Did you see Glint kill anyone?”

  A telling silence conquered the table. Roxelle gloated, “Told you. He ran around like an idiot pretending to punch security codes. And I’ll bet Whitney remembers when he told us it was time to get out of the warehouse, only fo
r us to see Marlowe getting pumped full of plasma. That fucker set us up.”

  Boggle smiled and a warm glow came over her face. “We’re lucky as hell to be here. I never trusted Glint from the start. A sponsor with a heart, yeah right. I’m glad we played into his greed and used the glorified slave owner.”

  Mimick added, “Not to mention, he donated this fine ship to the cause too. Can I smile after that one?”

  Oswell thumbed at his wounded hip and grimaced. “It just doesn’t make sense to go through all that and wouldn’t they have known it was his getaway craft.”

  Whitney decided to join the conversation. “Maybe he was just going to say that it was stolen too. Just a guess.”

  Boggle said, “Everything’s a guess because we don’t think like a sponsor. They have no feelings and their vision is filled with trolodyte symbols. Money is their master.”

  A serving tray flew into the room, full of Daisy Dolls shots. The yellow liquid bounced up and down the insides of the small glasses. The tray circled the room, stopping in front of each being so they could grab a drink.

  Roxelle held her drink in the air. “We aren’t finished yet, but this should taste pretty good.” She slammed the shot and everyone followed. Whitney enjoyed the lemony flavor of the drink and could barely taste the alcohol. A dangerous drink in that regard because Whitney immediately wanted another.

  Roxelle held her hand up. “Let’s get another round. And keep them coming. What were we talking about? Oh yeah, I agree with Boggle about his greed. Glint had plenty of money. Even if he had lost the Cavum Nigrum, diamonds and several employees, as long as he convinced the other sponsors he wasn’t involved, he’d be fine. He just got too greedy and tried to play both sides. Did he really think we wouldn’t notice?”

  Whitney didn’t say anything because she hadn’t noticed these things during the commotion of the diamond heist. Everything had seemed to be moving in fast forward but it all made perfect sense right now.

  Mimick spoke in a disgusted tone, “If he hadn’t changed the plan at the last possible moment, we’d probably be looking at more faces on this craft. Marlowe would still be here too. I rather liked Marlowe.”

 

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