“Let’s move him to a safer location first,” Lawler answered, making Seb’s pulse spike.
This was it. His one chance to get free. When they released him from this chair, he’d take them both on, and even if they killed him, he’d come out of this the victor—taking the truth of Jenna to his grave.
Lawler came over, but instead of reaching down to unfasten the chair tether, he stared down at him for a moment. Seb’s chest hurt to look into the face of a man he’d all but loved as a brother and later find out everything had been a lie.
“Knowing you, buddy, I’m sure you’re thinking about doing something kamikaze as soon as I release you.”
He clenched his jaw, focusing on the utter contempt and fury festering toward this man.
“Sorry, but I just can’t let that happen,” Lawler continued. “Not until we’re finished with you.”
Lawler produced an old-fashioned stunner—put into use after the early-technologists of the 2000s had used Tasers—but since replaced by other, more efficient and less painful tech.
“Screw you, jerk-faced bastard.” He wrenched against the binds in one last effort to pull his hands free as Lawler laughed and hit him with a round from the stunner, punching him into darkness with all the subtlety of taking a bat to the face.
…
Seb came around, head aching, bound hands now attached to a hitching post in a stable. The stunner hadn’t put him fully under—things had definitely gone black there for a moment, but it’d left pain reverberating through his body until he wished he’d been rendered completely unconscious. Unfortunately, he’d still been with it enough to be even more pissed off when Lawler dragged him out of the ship and into a disused stable on some kind of abandoned farm.
“Is he secured?” Carrie asked, attention on the comm in her hand as she stopped nearby.
“You think I’d be standing here waiting for you if he wasn’t?” Lawler drawled in reply, sounding bored, or maybe inpatient.
“We’ll have to postpone our plans. Stanton has been comming me. I need to get back before he gets suspicious.” She crouched in front of Seb, threading her fingers through his mussed hair. Goddamn, even his skin ached from that antiquated stunner. The last thing he needed was crazy-pants-Carrie touching him. “Try not to get lonely without me. I’ll be back in the morning.”
She patted his cheek, hard enough to leave a slight sting, then stood and turned to Lawler. “And I know it’ll be hard to resist, but try not to have too much fun without me. I want him in decent condition when I come back.”
“I’ll try to contain myself.” Lawler’s voice came out deadpan, but there was a glint in his gaze that suggested he was probably counting down the seconds until his psychotic partner left.
The comm in Carrie’s pocket chimed again, and she took it out with a muttered curse. “Stanton is all worked up about something. When we win the war and I finally get out of pretending to be an uptight CI agent, I’m going to make sure I shoot him in the face to celebrate.”
Not waiting for Lawler to answer, Carrie left, no doubt fabricating a response to her superior agent concerning her whereabouts.
Lawler stretched, then went over to a pack and pulled out a cloudy bottle of what Seb guessed was some kind of liquor.
“You look like you could use a drink.” Lawler strolled over, holding the bottle out.
When Seb didn’t react, simply glaring in response, Lawler splashed the alcohol in his face, sending it streaming down his chest. He clenched his jaw over a curse as it dribbled over every cut Carrie had given him, stinging like a hundred fire ants swarming his flesh.
“Oh, my bad. That had to hurt, right?” Lawler sent him a nasty grin, then took a swig of the liquor. The ex-fighter pilot shifted to sit on an upturned crate. “So, how’s things been on the Knox the last few weeks? Bet you’re bored out of your skull without me around.”
Said like he’d simply shifted posts or something, not betrayed them.
“That crippled commander of yours must be pissing in his boots over the moles we had right under your noses for all these years.”
More than anything Lawler could have said about him personally, the taunt about Yang jacked his temper.
“Then obviously you didn’t learn much in the years you spent on board, because otherwise you’d know Yang is about ready to bring the Knox down here and raze every shitty CSS outpost and base to the ground. UEF politics are pretty much the only thing standing between you and complete annihilation.”
Lawler saluted him with the bottle. “Why do you think we knew we could get away with it? Why do you think this war wasn’t over two years after it started, instead of continuing on two decades later? The CSS aren’t the real enemy here, it’s the UEF and their bureaucratic BS that we’re really fighting.”
“That’s what you think this war is about?” Disbelief dampened his pain momentarily. “You think you’re fighting some noble revolution, the little guy making a stand against Big Brother?”
“This universe is overgoverned.” From the tone Lawler used, this was no doubt a spiel he’d given before. “The UEF decide everything with their committees, and commissioned hearings and senate debates—they’re completely out of touch.”
“You’re calling them out of touch? You’ve been on the ground, you’ve seen what this war is doing to the families of this planet. This is about a man who got too powerful and instead of abiding by the laws every other planet and system live by—peacefully for the most part—he dropped a bomb on his own people to take out a handful of UEF representatives and send a message.”
“The so-called Pontifex is insignificant. He’s terminal and will be dead soon anyway.” Lawler waved a hand, dismissing this otherwise huge piece of information. “But there are people ready to step in, people who’ll take this fight to the wider universe. People who see this one small system as the birthplace for a larger change. People whose message will reach all systems and all planets. What will the UEF do when a dozen systems rise up against them?”
Seb stared at Lawler, taking in this conjecture. The guy had to be crazy, right? That the small war in this system could spread to the rest of the universe. The UEF wouldn’t let that happen. But as he studied Lawler’s calm, confident features, he didn’t see one hint of crazy in the guy’s unwavering gaze. If what he said was true, this was so much bigger than the CSS. In fact, it wasn’t even about one religious zealot with cultlike followers any longer. Other factions—more dangerous, more organized—were set to take advantage of a situation the UEF had always viewed as more of an annoyance than an actual problem.
And if Lawler was happily sitting here divulging all these plans? It meant the guy didn’t plan on leaving him alive long enough to tell anyone.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jenna stood with Stanton on the far side of a ship set down just beyond some stables on what was probably once a profitable farm or estate. They’d dropped in silently by parachute, jumping out of a personnel carrier that’d swept the perimeter, not able to risk landing a ship and alerting Carrie.
“Are you sure she’s not in the ship?” She’d never questioned Stanton once in all the years she’d been working for him, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
“There’s no way to be one hundred percent sure without visual confirmation, but the tracking program I embedded in the message I sent her puts her comm in the stable.”
“Send another message, telling her you need her ASAP or something.”
Stanton’s fingers moved over the screen as he typed. “Three messages in half an hour? She could get suspicious.”
“Or she might just get really annoyed that you’re riding her.” She pulled out her gun and settled it into a two-handed grip. “I’m going to wait in the ship. When she boards, shift in behind her in case she tries to make a run for it.”
And now she was giving a superior agent orders. Well, her ex-superior agent. She didn’t intend to return as a CI field agent, she just hadn’t told Stanton
. But he didn’t seem perturbed by her new bossy side. He simply nodded and took up a watch position as she sidled along the side of the ship to the hatchway, keeping an eye out for Carrie or any other CSS.
On board the shuttle, she had to step over unsecured junk that might have once been cargo, but long forgotten. The ship was a UEF shuttle, decommissioned and non-flyable, according to Ilari base logs, but clearly Carrie had put it to use for her own off-the-books activities.
Her steps slowed as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. In the middle of the cargo hold, a chair was clamped to the floor. Bloody alloy-rope bindings hung from the sides, while dark splatters of blood stained the floor around and beneath it. A hard lump knotted her stomach, leaving a deep sick feeling. Someone had been tortured in that chair. She didn’t want to imagine that it’d been Seb, but the likelihood was high.
Putting the disturbing thought out of her mind, and turning her back on the chair as she crept past it, she strained her ears for any hint of noise that might indicate someone was aboard. The hatchway to the cockpit stood open, and she stepped though, leading with her gun. But the controls were powered down and silent, with no evidence anyone else was here. Studying the layout, she picked a shallow, dim corner with a view of the hatchway and set herself up to wait.
Luckily, it seemed Carrie was still interested in keeping up the ruse of being a CI agent and had responded to Stanton’s summons. She heard the other agent coming before she saw her, the woman muttering an interesting string of curses and insults about the senior agent.
Jenna measured the echo of her footsteps, and a moment before the other agent reached the controls, she stepped out of her hiding place, lining up the woman responsible for the mess her life had become.
“Stop right there. Keep your hands out and away from your body.”
Carrie froze, features tightening into anger as their gazes clashed.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Carrie started easing back.
Jenna firmed up her aim, taking a step forward. “No sudden moves.”
Carrie stopped again, lowering her hands a little, not seeming too worried about her current situation. “Did Stanton send you? Or are you with the rebels?”
“I didn’t have to send her, Carrie.” Stanton emerged from the cargo hold behind the other agent, dividing her attention. “Agent Maxwell has got a personal dispute to settle with you. Usually, I don’t like my agents making things personal, but when you betray CI and try to have one of my best agents killed, then I’m going to make an exception.”
“Jenna? How are you alive? I saw a body that looked like you. And all along you were slumming it with that stick jockey, pretending to be his girl-next-door?” Carrie gave a derisive laugh. “That must have been the hardest undercover gig you’ve ever taken on, considering you’re a stone-cold bitch.”
“You saw the body of the agent you tasked to kill me wearing my appearance-altering tech.” She worked to keep her fury tamped down. “And out of the two of us, I’m pretty sure you easily take the title of stone-cold bitch.”
“You’re probably right.” Carrie lowered her hands even farther. “Well, it seems you outsmarted me. But it might interest you to know I still have leverage.”
“I doubt you have anything left that’s going to get you out of this.” She resisted the urge to simply tighten her finger on the trigger and finish things, do to Carrie what she’d done to Seb. But Stanton needed the double agent, needed to get what information he could out of her concerning the CSS infiltration into UEF forces.
Carrie smirked. “Not even that pretty-boy fighter pilot who flew you down to Ilari on your last mission. The one you’ve been protecting this whole time?”
Jenna’s aim wavered. “Seb is alive?”
Carrie’s attention dropped to the weapon, a malevolent grin spreading across her face. “Not for long.” In a quick move, she yanked her comm out of her pocket and thumbed the screen. “Kill him now!”
Even as the other agent yelled the words, Jenna took a wild shot, aiming for the comm in her hand, but panic made her unsteady and the blast hit Carrie in the upper shoulder.
Taking the hit at close range sent Carrie stumbling and falling backward, landing at Stanton’s feet. Jenna advanced, ready to follow up with another shot, but Stanton shifted his aim to line her up.
“Stop, Jenna. I need her alive. She knows too much to waste on a kill in the heat of the moment.”
Shoving her gun in its holster, she knelt above Carrie, reaching to wrap her hand around the wound in the agent’s arms.
“Where is he?”
Carrie gave a laugh that was hysterical, tinted with pain.
She dug her fingers in, just below the ravaged flesh of the injury, making the woman cry out. “Where is he?”
“Inside! But it’s too late. Lawler will have killed him by now.”
“Lawler’s here?” Stanton demanded, pulling out cuffs to detain the woman.
But that little detail didn’t matter. Jenna shoved to her feet, yanking out her gun, and then sprinting out of the ship, across the weed-choked yard and into the stable, not going for stealth or covertness, not when every second might mean the difference between Seb being alive or not.
She heard voices a second before she spotted them. Seb was tied to a hitching post in the middle of the stable, alive and staring furiously up at Lawler, who seemed to be making some kind of final comment, knife in hand as he got closer.
Jenna skidded to a stop to line up the ex-fighter pilot, but her entrance hadn’t gone unnoticed. When she took the shot, Lawler was already twisting and ducking, scrambling for cover behind a tumbled stack of barrels.
As soon as Lawler had disappeared, she dashed over to Seb, yanking at the alloy ropes securing him to the post. She wanted to take a moment to be relieved he was alive, to gush over how glad she was that he was okay, but she forced herself to remain in operator-mode, because until Lawler was secured, they weren’t out of danger.
Just as she freed one of Seb’s hands, his attention moved past her shoulder.
“Jenna!”
On instinct alone, she shoved back, knocking into Lawler who’d been coming at her from behind. The two of them tumbled to the dusty stable floor. He recovered faster, taking a swipe at her with the knife he still held in his hand. She dodged the assault, but before she could get away, he threw his body weight on top of her with bruising force, pinning her to the ground and stopping her from breaking free.
The knife slashed down again, and she brought an arm up to block the blow, the blade cutting deep into her forearm.
Seb was shouting her name, a note of desperation in his voice as she attempted to deflect another slash of the blade. But pain made her slower to respond. The bloodied edge missed her neck where he’d been aiming, but still sliced across the top of her shoulder, ramming into the floor.
She kicked out, trying to dislodge her attacker while he was distracted, but he’d planted himself firmly and the blood running down her arm made her grip slippery.
As he brought the knife up again, his features set with determination and creased with rage, it was clear her chances of beating him were doomed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Seb tugged frantically at the alloy rope still tethering one of his arms to the post, just about breaking his damned wrist. But a few broken bones didn’t matter when Lawler had Jenna down, and all he could see was blood.
With a final vicious yank, the rope came free from the post, but still hung from his right hand. Scrambling to his feet, fighting the dizziness from blood loss and long hours of inactivity, he staggered across the few short steps separating them and then threw himself onto Lawler’s back. But it didn’t stop the traitor from plunging the knife downward for a third time. Seb shoved more of his weight into Lawler at the last second, causing him to lose balance and the blade to miss Jenna completely.
He clamped one arm around Lawler’s neck, and with the other, reached across to grab th
e alloy rope still trailing from his wrist. Lawler bucked beneath him, but even though the man succeeded in unbalancing him, Seb had a grip on the rope, and pulled hard around Lawler’s neck.
Everything shifted, like he was disconnecting from the reality of the moment—as though someone else tightened their hands on the rope, someone else got to their knees for more leverage and locked every muscle, simply pulling tighter as Lawler struggled against the cord cutting into his neck.
“Seb!” Jenna landed next to him, cradling her injured arm, but grabbing his biceps with the other hand. “We won. We’re both okay. You don’t have to kill him. He’ll spend the rest of his life rotting in the bottom of a UEF military prison.”
“I can’t.” The words wrenched out of him, low and ragged. “I can’t take the chance he’ll escape again. He has to pay for what he did.”
“He will.” Her fingers dug almost painfully into his upper arm as she put herself in his line of vision. “If I have to check on him every day to make sure, I will. But if you kill him like this in cold blood, you won’t ever come back from that.”
His gaze crashed into her, like an asteroid caught in the gravitational pull of a moon. And, despite the rage still slashing through his system, his grip loosened and he dropped back, landing heavily on the hard stable floor.
Jenna produced a pair of cuffs and secured Lawler’s wrists before unraveling the alloy rope from around his neck. He was barely conscious, but definitely still alive. The bruises Seb had inflicted were a lot less than what the bastard deserved.
Turning her back on the groaning traitor, Jenna shifted over to Seb. Her gaze sweeping over him, no doubt cataloging every cut, scrape, and bruise, not to mention the state of his clothes. It was like he had a huge neon sign flashing on his chest, detailing every indignity Carrie had forced onto him.
Jenna reached out, and he flinched, shocking himself almost as much as her.
“What did they do to you?” Her uneven words weren’t much above a whisper, and though he knew she only wanted to help him, it only made him feel worse.
Cover Fire (Valiant Knox) Page 29
