Blake finally found the courage to speak. “Couldn’t we have just taken the sub line from XEX?”
“Yes, if we’d wanted Corporate Security on our tails. That’s your usual way home, isn’t it?” Gabriel approached the end of an alley and scanned the street beyond. Clear. He emerged, Blake close behind him.
“You mean I’m being watched, despite all my precautions?”
He glanced down at the little man. “You’re Xe’s most valuable engineer. What do you think?”
“Are you sure Security’s not waiting for you?” Blake was scowling now as he struggled to keep up with Gabriel’s long strides. “You’re the one with a 20,000-credit bounty on his head.”
“True enough.” His own father had put it there, and though the bloody bastard was long dead, his two half-brothers and plenty of others were still trying to collect. “But I’m still alive, and people have offered me good credit to make sure you do the same. I always earn my pay.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be paying for the best.” Blake hunched his shoulders. “And I need to get on that ship.”
The street had become narrow and winding, crowded with people stumbling in and out of the bars on either side. Loud music and the sour smell of cheap synthohol spilled from the doorways. This was the heart of the dome, as dangerous as it got inside, but Gabriel wasn’t watching for prostitutes or pickpockets.
Four more pylons to mark before they reached the sub line that would take them to the port. Five minutes’ walk. And then Gabriel saw what he’d been looking for—a hulking bounty hunter lurking in the shadows cast by the lights over a bar. Two party girls hung on his arms, their attention on the passing crowd. Gabriel grabbed Blake and melted into the dark on the opposite side of the street.
Blake protested. “What the fuck?”
--Shut up! Someone’s on to us. Who have you been talking to?
--No one! I swear, no one knows! I’ve been careful.
--Not careful enough. He nodded in the direction of the bounty hunter.
Blake shook his head, his eyes wide.
--We have to make it to the sub line without being seen. Follow me, and do not get lost.
Gabriel slipped into a fetid alley leading off the street they’d been walking. Once he was well away from the noisy bar strip he began to run. Blake was hard put to keep up with him, but he didn’t wait for the little man. His client’s life depended on speed. If Blake thought he’d be left behind he’d run faster.
The four pylons went by like a shot at running speed, and Gabriel dashed down the steps into the sub line with a sense of relief. No one was behind them. He scanned the crowd on the sub platform and didn’t see the bounty hunter. Their luck was holding.
The sub train pulled up. People got off. He pushed Blake forward and got on after him. The train took off with a jerk and rapidly gained speed. Then it surfaced like a sand dragon breaching, and skimmed along the surface, headed for one of three stops outside the domes. All around them the battering winds wailed and moaned. The neon sand streaked overhead and scratched at the windows, finding its way in through the seals. The sub wheezed to a stop in the shadow of a sand-blasted butte, and a handful of workers got off at the shantytown station, headed home from jobs too menial to support housing in the domes.
Even so, they were luckier than some. The train began to roll again and slid past a low-slung complex of lighted buildings surrounded by razor wire. Inside the wire, plasform barracks huddled around a mine tipple and a heap of slag. Gabriel cursed.
Blake followed his gaze, but he didn’t see. “What is it?”
“Fucking Minertsan slave mine. Like to blow it to hell.”
“Don’t think my boss would appreciate that much.” Blake offered a sardonic smile. “He has a cozy relationship with the Grays. Slave labor is cheap, if you don’t count what he pays the Minertsan fleet for protection from the Interstellar Council for Abolition and Rescue.”
“The Grays steal people off Earth and wipe their minds and work them to death in mines like that one.” Like his own Cuban grandparents. Until Rescue got them out. “Let’s hope what Xe pays isn’t enough.”
They rode on in silence in the full sub car, the passengers with them a cosmopolitan mix of humans, reptilian Savagnoirs, tall Ninoctins and a few others. The second and third desert stops came and went. As the train neared the port complex, Gabriel began to think they might make it without trouble. The first port stop, in the dome housing the freight docks, was coming up in less than a minute.
Then the door between cars opened with a whoosh. “Ah, hell.”
The bounty hunter stalked down the aisle toward them, a grin cracking his grizzled face. His hands were empty, though, and that was his mistake.
“Up. Move!” Gabriel pushed at Blake. “Now!”
They scrambled out of their seats and down the aisle. Behind them, the hunter took up the chase. Gabriel grabbed the first thing he could lay hands on—someone’s duffle—and threw it at the hunter’s feet, tripping him up. He heard a curse and a thud just as they reached the door at the end of the car, then they were through to the other side. They kept moving, through that car and into the next one. But as they neared yet another door, their luck ran out. With the bounty hunter closing in from behind, sub line security had entered the car in front of them. His client couldn’t afford to be taken into custody; Chairman Xe owned the law enforcement on Savagne.
Gabriel yanked open the door and surveyed the exit between the cars. “We’ll be exiting a little sooner than expected.”
Blake stared at him in horror. “You can’t be serious!”
The station announcement came just as the train entered the dome and began to reduce speed. Gabriel checked the security men in front, the hunter nearly upon them behind. People preparing to exit had filled the aisles, slowing them down, giving Gabriel and Blake a few more precious seconds before they had to jump.
Gabriel could hear the security guards yelling for people to make way, but no one was moving. Outside the train, the station came into view. The train slowed, slowed. Gabriel kicked open the exit door, grabbed Blake and jumped, dropping into a roll as his feet, then his shoulders, hit the hard platform with bone-crushing force. The breath left him, and he heard Blake shout something. Then he was on his feet, dragging the little man behind him, searching for the stairs that led out of the station.
There—up ahead! But—damn it!—the bounty hunter had already caught up with them. They pelted up the stairs to the main level, their pursuer’s boots heavy on the treads behind them. Gabriel steered his man to the left at the top and turned to plant his foot in the hunter’s chest. The hunter parried and sliced his calf with a 20-centimenter blade. Cursing, Gabriel snatched his leg back and punched hard at the man’s nose. The hunter kept coming. And he still had the knife.
Gabriel scrambled back as the blade swept in towards his gut. The swing just missed him, and he rushed the man, pinning the hunter’s knife arm to his chest and twisting his wrist. The knife slipped out of his grip. Gabriel let go of the pinned arm long enough to smash his elbow into the man’s face, but Jesus! he just wouldn’t go down. And now the sliced muscle of Gabriel’s calf was giving way, refusing to hold him. He went with it and dropped to the ground with the man’s jumpsuit in his fists, flipping him over his head. By the time he’d rolled out of the throw, the fucker had nearly gotten to his feet.
To hell with this. Gabriel pulled the stunner from inside his jacket and squeezed the trigger. The hunter went down in a rigid convulsion of agony.
Gabriel grabbed his client by the arm and hustled him into a side corridor as alarms began to blare at the discharge of an unauthorized weapon. He got them out of sight, and wrapped a strip of his shirt around his wound so he wouldn’t leave a blood trail. Then they navigated a maze of stacked containers into the quietest part of the automated freight docks. All the while, Blake trotted at his side, wordless and pale.
In range now, he made his connection. “Cruz to Shadowha
wk.”
“Shadowhawk here. Stand by for Captain Murphy.”
Sam Murphy growled his displeasure. “Where the hell are you? And is all that comm noise I’m hearing because of you?”
“Just get me onboard and get us to the jump ASAP. I’ve got the whole damn planet after my ass.”
“Can you get to a D-mat pad? We’ll register you as cargo transfer.”
He saw one of the larger units meant for cargo up ahead, deserted at this hour. “Yeah, we’re good.” He and Blake stepped up on the pad. “Ready on your mark.”
The freight dock disappeared and the Shadowhawk’s D-mat pad resolved in a shimmer of consciousness. Gabriel limped off the pad, but got no further before the ship’s captain flung open the hatch and strode in to meet him.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” Murphy looked him over with a critical eye before he slipped a well-muscled arm under his shoulder and helped him to the corridor. He ignored Blake.
“We? Where were you when that hunter tried to slice me in half?”
“Bounty hunter?” Murphy shot a glare at Blake. “Yours or his?”
“His, we think. But no matter. Where’s the better half?”
“Rayna’s on the bridge, trying to talk us out of orbit. Space Authority wants to shut down all departures for some reason.” They turned into a hatchway labeled “Crew Lounge”, and Murphy lowered Gabriel into the nearest seat. “Figured you wouldn’t let me take you to Sickbay.”
Gabriel grunted. “You figured right. Could use some skinseal, though.” His leg still hurt like a sonofabitch.
Murphy came back to the table with a medkit, a tumbler for Gabriel and two mugs full of grog for himself and Blake. “Spit in Xe’s eye!”
They all raised their glasses to that.
Gabriel grimaced. “Synthohol? I know you keep the good stuff.”
“In my cabin. I’ll share later. First we need to talk.”
“Look, I wouldn’t have pulled the stunner if that hunter hadn’t come at me with a knife.” He bent to clean and seal the rip in his leg.
Murphy waved a hand. “Necessary. No, I have another job for you.”
He sat back. “Don’t need another job.” What he needed was a bed. And a woman. And the time to enjoy them both. Sam had it right—partner up with your mate.
But Murphy wasn’t taking no for an answer. “This one is special. A woman and a six-year-old child were taken. Returned slaves—and personal friends.”
“How long ago?” Time was key.
“About ten hours planetary by now, I guess.”
“Where?”
“Earth.”
Gabriel’s eyes opened wide in shock. “Say again?”
“You heard me.”
When he wasn’t providing transport for Gabriel’s clients, Sam Murphy served an organization with a very narrow view of where you could go and what you could do. “I thought Earth was off-limits for Rescue.”
“It is. This isn’t a job for an official Rescue team.” Murphy caught his gaze. “It’s strictly a one-person operation, very low-profile. The local authorities are already involved.”
Before Gabriel could respond, Blake broke into the conversation. “I’ve heard rumors that the Minertsans have been stealing returned slaves back from Terrene. Maybe the Grays are taking them from Earth, too.”
Gabriel had been raised in Terrene’s colony of former slaves, a polyglot of cultures forever cut off from their home planets. He’d heard the rumors, too.
He looked at Murphy. “Well?”
The captain frowned. “Could be, but Asia . . . well, let’s just say she has special talents of interest to certain Earth-based groups. They tried to take her once before. We think this is a repeat.”
Dios, she’s resistant to the mindwipe. No wonder they want her. Even the Grays would find that interesting.
Gabriel shook his head. “Sam, you know I hate working on Earth.” Black ops agents who knew too much. Overfed dirtside cops with small minds and provincial attitudes.
“Yeah.” The captain ran a hand through his black hair, turning it into spikes. “But she’s a good friend, Gabriel. And the boy’s only six.”
Damn it, Sam really knew how to push his buttons. Even Blake was looking at him like a lost mooncat.
“And there’s something else.” Murphy shifted in his seat. “Our intel says the Bloodstalker’s headed for the Sol system. Kinnian and Trevyn Dar are in command.”
Blake went pale. “Jesus, those killers? The Thrane hunters?”
Gabriel’s teeth clenched hard in his jaw. Rescuing this mother and son from Earthers with a hard-on for UFO’s would be all in a day’s work. Saving them from his alien brothers would be a matter of personal honor.
He tossed back what remained in his glass. “I’m in. Set course for Earth.”
CHAPTER TWO
Trin, Center for Administrative Control, Consortium of Minertsa, Sector 10
The Minister of Labor considered his options. In the wake of the attack on the processing center at Del Origa, they were limited. Demand was up all over the Consortium. Supply was correspondingly short. And the traditional sources for slaves, thanks to the mud-sucking pirates who called themselves abolitionists, were drying up.
His fellow ministers in charge of mining, industrial production and agriculture continued to raise production quotas. The new numbers for this interval taunted him from the upper left quadrant of his visual field, the holo-display accompanied by an encouraging message from the Consortium Oligarchy. For a swift second he lost control of his emotions and the air around his body churned with black and hideous purple.
Director Prime Sennik composed himself, adjusting the colors of his aura to reflect only calm neutrality. There was no use mourning the loss of Del Origa now. And, in fact, most of the facility’s functions—the mindwipe procedures, the medical screenings, the labor allocation—could be taken up at other sites. He had already begun rerouting newly acquired slaves to compensate.
But Del Origa had been important for another reason, one only he knew. He meant to keep that secret to himself.
He opened his mind in summons and waited until he saw his second-in-command appear in the doorway of his office.
--You needed me, Director Prime?
Sennik let the female be aware that he approved of her prompt appearance. In fact, he approved of Ardis’s appearance in all aspects—her smooth, light skin, her long-fingered hands, her large, liquid, black eyes. Her aura, as usual a delicate lavender shot through with deeper tones of violet and midnight blue, communicated just the right combination of respect and ambition, of eagerness and ruthlessness. Then there was that intriguing hint of sexual interest that sometimes seemed to curl around the edge of his perception.
He monitored his own vibratory emissions and was pleased to note none of his observations had colored his aura. He remained an even-toned silver-gray.
--What is the status of our search for the slaves stolen in the raid on Del Origa?
--We have identified all those taken, sir, and we have begun reacquisition of all the test subjects who remain in accessible territories.
--Excellent. When do you anticipate completion of this task?
Director Second Ardis’s aura blushed with an uncomfortable salmon. There are many who have been resettled on Terrene. Taking them all at once would raise questions. The teams have been forced to be discreet.
--Blast Terrene! Nothing but a poison pool where fang-eels slither to hide! Take the slaves or kill them outright if taking them is impossible. Sennik noted the boiling black in his aura and struggled to calm himself. He amended his order. Except, of course, the immature ones. Those we must have. We have too much invested in them to lose them. What news of the coordinator?
Ardis’s aura flashed green with fear. The Thranes report he may have been among those who have been sent back.
--Sent back?
--You are aware the abolitionist organization Rescue often tries to send th
e slaves back to their home planet?
Sennik waved a hand. It’s not as if that ridiculous speck of dust they all come from—what is the name of that stupid place? Erp?
--Earth, sir.
--Yes, well. It’s not as if the place is at the far end of Zfar’s Galaxy. The ball of dirt practically sits on top of one of our busiest jump nodes. It should be a simple matter to get my property back. I sent Thrane hunters after the boy for a reason. Contact the Bloodstalker and tell Kinnian Dar I am waiting for him to earn the credits I’m paying him.
Nashville, Tennessee, Earth, Sector Three
Ethan Roberts sat on the couch of the big, open room that served as his office, his injured leg stretched out on the worn leather in front of him. A grating pain in his knee kept him in place and in torment. The throbbing pain of his cracked ribs made it impossible to sit comfortably. But the fearful pain in his chest where his heart should have been was nearly unbearable.
His wife and his son were all he could think about. Where they were. What was happening to them. Not knowing what had happened at the river was a special kind of torture. Had they been hurt? He would give anything to have Asia and Jack safe in his arms at this minute—anything. He ached for it with a longing so strong it seemed to rip his soul into pieces.
Ethan had little confidence in the police and FBI agents who were establishing operations in his secretary’s office on the other side of the entryway of his home. Except for the two cats, J.J. and Merlin, who prowled mournfully around the living room looking for their lost humans, he was alone with his agonized thoughts despite the dozens of officers all around him. He’d given some thought to calling his friends, or Asia’s, but there’d been time for only one contact, a desperate one. He wouldn’t rest until he’d seen some results from that nearly-hopeless plea.
“Ethan? Where are you, man?”
Thank God, Sam Murphy at last. Ethan inhaled a shaky breath and clamped down hard on his emotions as he struggled to his feet. Sam was frowning down at one of the police officers, who was making a futile attempt to stop and question him in the hall. The tiny woman at his side was already ignoring the brewing dispute and hurrying in Ethan’s direction.
Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2) Page 2
