Skip Trace

by Jenn Burke

  “Spoilsport.”

  Chapter Ten

  Petrel Station bore no resemblance to the bird it had been named for. None. In fact, the bulky conglomeration of rings and habitats lacked any grace whatsoever—not that Felix needed elegance and clean lines, that was Zed’s thing. As long as the station held together, it worked. Not everything in the galaxy had to be beautiful, or even comely.

  He scowled at the scuffed etching of a bird on one of the wall plates. The plate next to it held just a wing, the joint cut off by a thick seam of weld. He followed the seam to a juncture, chose a branch at random, eyes tracking a ragged line across the ceiling to the bank of thick plasmix windows that provided a view of the docking facilities. Through the myriad gouges and handprints, unidentified stains and cracked stars filled with globs of sealant, he studied the equally chaotic pattern of ships. Nope, this definitely wasn’t an Anatolius station. Petrel’s docks had no atmosphere or gravity differential generators. Ships were clamped to docking tubes rather than gently moored at piers.

  “This place is a hole.”

  Felix snorted at Elias’s expression of distaste. “Gone soft on me, Cap’n? A few days living like an Anatolius upped your standards?”

  Refusing to take the bait, Elias activated his wallet. Three displays overlapped in a hectic representation of the illogical station layout. He tapped a filter and colored dots spread across the maps. “Green for contacts, blue for bars, red for med centers, brown for shelters, gray for markets.” He glanced up, his dark skin patterned by the light of the display. “Where do you want to start?”

  Despite an hour-long workout and triple-s (shit, shower and shave), Felix could still feel the effects of the chemically induced slumber that had kept him down for twenty-some hours. Drawing in a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts and focused on the task at hand. Petrel Station did not fall into the territory prohibited by their agreement with Agrius, but any listed skip—bogus or otherwise—would attract more than one tracer.

  “Wait, why are we looking for the skip? Doesn’t Marnie know where he is?”

  Elias put on a patient expression, then ruined it by sighing. “Are you up for this? Because if you’re not, you can babysit the Chaos while the rest of us do what we came here for.”

  “You think I’m here for a different reason?”

  Elias made no reply, which was answer enough.

  “So I missed a team meeting. Don’t tell me it wasn’t more efficient without the asshole from engineering.”

  One dark brow inched up a dark forehead.

  Felix grumbled. “Just tell me what we’re doing.”

  “We’re pretending to track a skip. You remember that much, right?”

  “Fuck you, Eli.”

  Elias flipped his wallet shut and shoved the flexible plastic square into a pocket of his utility pants. “Follow me.”

  “So now I’m just backup?”

  “Until you decide to rejoin the crew, yes.” Elias strode toward the concourse that funneled traffic away from the port.

  Okay, maybe his twenty-plus hours of enforced slumber had been a bad idea. Explaining that he’d been trying to sort himself probably wouldn’t garner any sympathy either. Taking a deep breath, Felix fell in beside his captain.

  Despite the late hour—most stations adhered to Standard time—the concourse was crowded. A station never truly quieted, though. The cloying odor of humanity and the competing scents of the food stands and crap vendors crowding the wide avenue formed a thick miasma, an almost visible mist weaving between the multitude of bodies. Felix drew his shoulders in and breathed through his mouth. The familiar stink and press scoured his skinned psyche. Sweating and anxious, Felix nudged Elias toward the far wall, where they only had to step over huddled transients and homeless to make their way forward.

  “Didn’t notice it until now, but there were no homeless on Alpha.”

  Felix glanced over at Elias. “Go low enough and you’d find them. Down in the substrata.” He faced forward again. “Don’t want to talk about Zed, just in case that’s your twisty opener.”

  Elias huffed out another sigh and jostled him slightly as he veered out of the way of a screaming holo-ad. Felix searched his wallet for the ad-repellant hack Marnie had sent him eons ago. The grumble in his throat quickly degenerated to a soft curse as he failed to find it. The idea that instead of sleeping he could have spent the past twenty hours updating his bracelet with all the hacks he used to carry only pissed him off more. He’d had more than a month to update his bracelet and he hadn’t gotten around to it, and all reasons pointed one direction: Zander Anatolius.

  Not a fair thought, but one that suited his mood. Felix recognized that he needed to ladle a helping of animosity over his side of the split. That hurt less than acknowledging why he’d left his lover behind. Much less than contemplating the crushed cinder in his chest—and who, exactly, had squashed his heart flat.

  “Just answer me one question,” Elias said. “You planning on going back to Alpha?”

  “I...don’t know.”

  “Well, at least you’re honest.”

  Dodging around another collection of greasily clad limbs that might or might not belong to a corpse, Felix ducked into a side corridor and waited for Elias to follow with the vague intent of thrusting his friend up against the wall, elbow across his throat so he could deliver a threat. He didn’t, but squashing the urge took more effort than it should have. The distance Elias left between them as he followed suggested he’d anticipated the danger. The captain dawdled in the mouth of the narrow corridor and cocked his head.

  “Is this a shortcut?”

  “No. Eli...” His mouth worked soundlessly while he searched for the right words. “I don’t really understand what I’m doing, okay? So there’s not much I can say about it that will make sense.”

  Elias’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You know exactly what you’re doing, Fix. You always do.” A dark hand flattened against the side wall, giving Elias’s posture a false air of relaxation. “Just remember, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”

  “You know what I don’t get? Why you are still here.”

  “I own half your ride. I don’t have to like you to be here.”

  “That’s...” The full weight of Elias’s answer hit him. Breath easing out of his lungs, Felix looked away, toed the scuffed floor, tried to apply meaning to the squeal of his boot sole against the metal. When he couldn’t deny he’d broken something between himself and Elias, tears stung his eyes. Blinking rapidly, Felix sucked them back. He endured the burn in his sinuses, the small pain nothing compared to all his other hurts. Then, clearing his throat, he pushed forward, past the man so casually blocking the entrance to the corridor.

  The homeless guy he’d stepped over had moved and Felix stared at the blank spot on the floor until he realized why it seemed weird. The homeless drifted, sure, but usually only when hassled by station security. He scanned the concourse, searching for grimy gray coveralls.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “The guy we hopped over. He’s gone.”

  “So? Probably off picking someone’s pocket.”

  “No...” Felix ducked back into the corridor, pulling Elias in after him. “All the homeless are gone.”

  Elias patted his belt, checking the holster of his stunner. Felix did the same, then rocked his ankle to confirm he had remembered to slip his knife into his boot.

  “Thoughts?”

  “Either station security is on its way for a regular sweep or something spooked them.”

  “Or someone.” Elias pulled out his wallet and opened a channel. “We’ve got a possible contact. We’re at...” He flipped screens, and delivered their coordinates.

  “Excellent.” Marnie muttered something off channel, then said, “I take it th
at as the map hasn’t been updated, you two haven’t stopped anywhere noteworthy yet?”

  Elias glanced at Felix. “Not as such.”

  “Okay. Flick, do you have any training on spotting a tail?”

  “Nope, but whoever spooked the locals probably just watched us figure shit out.”

  “That’s fine. Stick to the plan.”

  Elias closed the connection and glanced at Felix.

  “Don’t say it.”

  “What was I going to say?” Elias asked.

  “That this is my fault. If I’d been on the ball, I’d have picked up our tail sooner. If I hadn’t been distracting you, you might have noticed. Hell, if I’d just stayed on Alpha like I was supposed to, you and Marnie—”

  “I was going to ask if you had your knife.”

  “Oh.”

  “Ready to do this?”

  “Yeah.”

  As they stepped back out into the concourse, anticipation scraped across Felix’s skin. Stiffly, he kept his attention pointed toward the lift bay ten meters on, knowing he’d probably already given himself away. A spy, he was not. Beside him, Elias was as tense, stiff and obvious. Aside from the absence of the homeless who’d once littered one side of the concourse, traffic seemed to flow as usual. But Felix had been a station rat and now that he’d noticed, the lack of certain elements echoed loudly.

  He jabbed the lift tube call button and stepped back to wait, easing himself between Elias and an impeccably dressed women who leaned away from him. He might be clean, but his clothes weren’t. The doors hissed open and Felix recoiled.

  He’d never liked small spaces, but after having nearly pushed through the floor of the Damianos Building, he was seriously considering adding lift tubes to his shit list. Elias nudged him from behind. Sucking in a breath, Felix entered the lift. Half the station crowded in after them. Pressed against the wall, Felix scanned the other occupants for a man or woman who felt...off. Surely whoever had been following would have entered the lift and risked exposure rather than lose them. He felt a tug on his sleeve, glanced up at a woman standing in front of the door. While most of the crowd faced forward, she faced backward, and her ice-blue gaze was pointed right at him.

  Shit.

  Sweat rolled down his sides. Felix silently cursed his worn-out SFT. Engaged in his staring contest, he barely noticed the lurch of the lift—though if the tubes were in proper repair, he shouldn’t have felt a thing. Seconds dragged by, marked by the panel over the door counting levels. Then the doors opened and the population of the car was cut in half. Blue Eyes didn’t leave. The lift continued downward.

  “Wanna pay me before you fuck me?” Blue Eyes cocked her head.

  With fewer people in the car, Felix could see she wore a skinsuit that left nothing to the imagination. The color of the fabric even matched her skin tone, which was maybe a shade lighter than his. Station pale. Even if he did find women attractive, she’d have been too slim for his tastes, though. “You’re not my type.”

  The doors opened again and Blue Eyes dropped a sneer before leaving the car. Felix swallowed dryly and then noticed the man standing behind her. Forgettable features and colorless clothing.

  Their tail.

  At the next stop, Elias shot out onto the lower concourse. Felix pushed after him, the itch across his back a burning distraction. He half expected to be shot, stunned, tripped, or otherwise maimed before he left the car. He didn’t look over his shoulder. There were fewer people on the lower level and the lighting was appropriately gloomy. The narrow concourse extended in both directions until the curve of the station obscured the ends. A couple of doors stood open, but most were shut tight. It was late, station time. Lengthening his stride, Felix caught up to Elias and whispered urgently over his shoulder. “Take the next left.”

  “First stop is second right.”

  “We’ve made the guy, let’s take care of him now.”

  Elias took the first left, which turned into a long, narrow corridor, broken halfway down by an intersection. Felix pushed him into the wall and leaned back next to him. Pulled out his stunner and counted to ten. No one followed them around the corner.

  Shit and double shit. It had been too obvious a move. Doubts crowded his thoughts. Maybe he should have stuck to Marnie’s plan. Should they head back out and pick up their tail? If he stuck his head around the corner, would someone shoot it off?

  He’d made a plan, he had to stick to it. Heartbeat flickering at the back of his throat, Felix counted to ten again, then twenty. A shadow crept across the mouth of the corridor. Felix’s finger twitched toward the trigger. An imagined tingle traveled the length of his arm. When a head poked cautiously around the corner, Felix fired.

  A crackling arc of energy smacked into the bland face of their tail. The man’s yell was cut off by the sharp stink of burnt flesh. He lifted a hand to his face and Felix reached forward to grab his collar and yank him into the smaller corridor. Elias grabbed an arm and together they thrust the guy up against the opposite wall. He grunted heavily, then sagged. The livid red mark on his face was grotesque and Felix found himself swallowing bile.

  “Shit, he’s dropping,” Elias said.

  “Ease him down.” Apparently he’d been close enough to deliver a stunning charge along with a probable scar. Thank every star they were off the main concourse.

  Felix bent at the waist and with Elias’s help, started hauling the unconscious man down the narrower corridor, destination unknown.

  “Where are we taking him?”

  “Away from security cameras and patrols.”

  Elias scoffed. “Have you seen either since we arrived?”

  “No.” Movement teased his peripheral vision and Felix turned just in time to catch a chop to the jaw. “Fuck!”

  Dropping his half of their burden, he turned into his new assailant only to discover Blue Eyes preparing a follow-up strike. He thrust an elbow up to block and cursed again as her arm crashed against his, their lean frames nearly allowing bone on bone contact. Pain ricocheted up his arm to his recently relocated shoulder, and purple spots danced across his vision.

  Finesse wouldn’t be his ally here. He needed to take this woman down hard and fast, and hope Elias was right behind him. Felix rocked forward and threw his weight into the slim woman. His hands found no purchase on her slick skinsuit, but his momentum knocked her off balance and they went down together. Her head did not bounce off the floor as he’d hoped it might. Instead, she tensed and tried to roll.

  Elias got in beside her and pinned her free arm. “Stun her!”

  Felix pressed his stunner to her suit, near her shoulder, and fired. She jolted beneath them, then relaxed, knocked out. Felix fell back onto his ass, then simply sat there, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His jaw stung and his shoulder ached. His head felt like he’d stuck it inside a c-core. Surveying the scene—two bodies down, Elias slumped beside him on the floor—he couldn’t help remembering similar situations, all of them recent. All of them connected to Zed. A weird sadness rose up from his gut and squeezed his chest. Confusion and regret. His head hurt too much for any better interpretation than that.

  “Skip tracing ain’t what it used to be.” Elias’s tone was dry.

  Felix opened his mouth and found he had nothing to say. His bracelet chimed, so he tapped that instead.

  Marnie’s voice spilled gently into the corridor. “Are you secure?”

  “If you mean are we sitting on top of two unconscious bodies, then yes.”

  “Dieter and I are aboard the Chaos. You can make your way back after you clean up any mess.”

  “You, he...huh?”

  “Are the faces of your two bodies visible?”

  While Felix’s thoughts ticked over with exaggerated slowness, Elias answered. “Yes.”

  “Ca
pture a still of each for me, would you? I’ll try to identify them.”

  Elias pulled his wallet out and focused on the woman’s pale face.

  “Well, I don’t need to hack any databases for her.”

  “Yeah?” Elias tapped his display, dismissing the image.

  “Agent Ralima, AEF Military Intelligence. Weird thing is, she’s not a field operative.”

  “Could have fooled me. Fix looks as if he landed on Petrel face first.”

  Absently, Felix fingered his jaw, then wished he hadn’t.

  “I don’t recognize the other. I’ll have to ask for Ryan’s help. Watch your backs getting to the docks. We don’t know these were the only two operatives here.”

  Elias closed the connection.

  Felix made one of the mental kind. “Dieter wasn’t waiting at any of the points on our map, was he?”

  “Nope.”

  “We were the decoys.”

  “Yep.”

  And no one had seen fit to tell him...or maybe they had and he’d...No, wait...

  Fuck. Triple fucking fuck. That was what Elias had meant about rejoining the crew.

  Felix let his head drop back against the wall behind him, so hard he saw nothing but stars, and wished they were real.

  Chapter Eleven

  Something chirped nearby, all happy and sweet. And loud. Way too fucking loud. Zed leaned his forehead against the cool, smooth ceramix surface of the toilet, hoping the chill would suck out the pain rattling in between his ears.

  More chirping. Sluggish thoughts roiled and coalesced. It was his wallet. Incoming call. He’d brought it into the bathroom with him because...fuck if he knew. But there it was, sitting on the vanity, burbling away. Until it wasn’t anymore. The silence felt almost as good as the toilet under Zed’s overheated skin.

  Then the chirping started again.

  He swung out an uncoordinated hand and slapped the wallet off the edge of the vanity. It clattered to the floor—which worked out because it was easier to reach. Continuing to slap his hand around without bothering to open his eyes, Zed finally managed to locate his wallet. His chest ached with the movement. Must be where he’d gotten the tattoo. Though he couldn’t remember what he’d settled on...