Kaiden smiled at her. “Trust me.”
Using the unregistered credit chips taken from Hunt and Merrill, Kaiden ventured into the junkyard to acquire replacement ship components and upgrades. Since space vessel maintenance and bodywork wasn’t one of her specialties, she left the upgrades to him while she altered their electronic signatures and modified their old identification chips.
Besides, if she wanted to create realistic backgrounds and lay the necessary digital trails to legitimize their new personas, she needed every scrap of spare time available. Creating a false identity involved more than slamming photographs into a database—she had to make it real, which meant forging a birth certificate, creating fingerprints, vital records, and travel documents.
Had she predicted the mission’s difficulty, their covers being blown multiple times, or a mole somewhere in the intelligence chain of command, she’d have prepared additional chips and backgrounds. Ugh. She’d have to investigate that, too. If there was a mole, Joaquin needed to be warned.
Two days after their arrival on the nameless moon, Kaiden called her off the vessel. His hard work had transformed their low-key RV into a sleek sportster, complete with a flashy new paint job. She hadn’t stepped outside the ship once to look at his progress, too exhausted from a sleepless night of hacking virtual passport documents. She studied the colorful nebula design painted on the hull and had her doubts.
“Is this what you call inconspicuous?”
“It is.” When Nisrine pinned him under a skeptical stare, he laughed and repeated the two magical words. “Trust me. It’ll be fine. Galaxy print is the new black on Albion now, according to Stardrifter’s Weekly. You’ll see it everywhere. I’m particularly proud of this paint job.”
“It’s very pretty. You did a great job.”
“Thank you.”
She turned her attention away from the ship and appraised Kaiden’s paint-smeared hands. Like her, he’d worked round the clock without sleeping. Grease and other ship lubricants stained his work coveralls, blackened his nails, and smudged his face, but he’d never looked more pleased with himself. Happy.
“Will we make it to Albion in time?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. She doesn’t look like much, but the engine is top notch now. And since you’ve finished changing the registration—beautiful job on that, by the way—no one will recognize us.”
“They certainly won’t recognize you.”
Kaiden looked down at himself and laughed. “Guess I should get cleaned up.”
“I’ll set the course for Albion.”
They boarded the ship and went their separate ways. Nisrine set the autopilot once they were beyond the moon then turned her attention to the details of their next target. Kaiden needed direct access to the Galactic Enquirer because no amount of hacking had gotten them into their systems, which meant they’d need to get into a busy building full of people around the clock.
The answer stared her in the face the moment she brought up the company’s public site. Writers wanted.
She smiled, abandoning her desk, and crossed the room. “Hey, Kaiden, I found something,” she called through the bathroom door. The water squeaked off. A moment later, the door opened, releasing a cloud of soap-scented steam. Then Kaiden stepped through, and Nisrine’s words died on her lips.
The towel around his hips hung low, drawing attention to the indents carved into his hips and the dark treasure trail running down from his navel. She wanted to follow it with her fingertips, wanted to kiss her way over those impeccable muscles and caress the thighs hidden beneath the towel. And take her sweet time becoming acquainted with his cock. She imagined the sinewy inches rising tall and curved toward his navel. Long, throbbing inches. Then she’d take him in her mouth, suck him down into her throat, and—
“You were saying?”
Saying? She snapped her gaze up to his face, mouth dry as a desert. “I, ah… I was saying that I’ve found us a way to get in to the paper.”
“Good. We’ll finally be one step ahead of these fuckers.” He pushed his hands back through his wet hair. “Was there something else?”
She could think of several things, but none of them were appropriate for the moment. Business had to come first. Still, no matter how much she repeated that in her head, it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to step away before sleep deprivation drove her to behave like an idiot.
“Once you’re dressed, I’ll tell you about my plan for getting you into the Galactic Enquirer.”
Chapter Twelve
Kaiden’s upgrades to the RV cut their travel time to a fraction of his original estimation, though Nisrine slept most of the flight at his insistence while he catnapped during the autopilot. His cybernetic enhancements didn’t require much sleep, but her human body—and her psionics—required rest and an alert mind.
Despite her concerns about the new engine, they received prompt clearance to dock at the Severn Spaceport without flagging any of the universal alerts.
Kaiden knocked on the open bedroom door, watching her clip on a pair of gold earrings. She’d already donned a new wig. The short, angled bob framed her face, brunette with golden brown highlights interspersed among darker strands. From what he’d seen so far, she had a whole collection of the damn things, not a single one of them as lovely as her natural long hair.
“Come in,” she called over a shoulder while examining her reflection in the full-length mirror. Synthetic flesh prosthetics transformed her features, and a spray-on layer of color altered her ethnicity—from Persian origins to a mix of Egyptian and African descent. With ample time and the right tools, she could become anyone and Kaiden admired the artistry in her skill.
“Whoa.”
She twirled, letting her gold and black maxi dress spin around her calves. “My disguise is a success?”
He nodded. “Looks nothing like you.”
“As intend—”
“Which is almost criminal, to hide the real you beneath another woman’s looks.” Her eyes widened, darted to the mirror, and back to him before her lips parted in a startled oh. “Anyway, I came to say you’ve got no worries about me this time. I feel like myself again. Better than I have since awakening two years ago, in fact. It’s strange.”
“The rest must have done some good for you.”
“Maybe. Or it could be similar to exercise and working my brain so much has improved it.”
Nisrine looked him over from head to toe. “I suppose so. Still, promise me you won’t overdo anything again.”
Kaiden held up a hand and crossed his heart. “I promise to consider all my options.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” she mumbled.
He stepped closer and placed his fingers beneath her chin, turning her downward-tilted face back up. “I won’t do anything risky unless it’s absolutely necessary. Promise you’ll do the same.”
“I promise,” she whispered.
“Good. Mind if I go through your files again?”
She gestured to her workstation with a sweep of her hand. “Please. I’ll be up front.”
He watched her leave and slid into the chair at Nisrine’s workstation. Now that he had permission to rifle through her archives, he wasted no time in absorbing as much data as possible. It flooded into his mind and overwhelmed him temporarily, teaching Kaiden there was a limit to his ability.
Okay. Bad idea.
Once the mild disorientation had diminished, and he didn’t feel like shit, he met her at the airlock with a headful of sporty blond hair and brown eyes.
Since their destination wasn’t far, they left the space station on foot. The Fleet Building housed every major news outlet in the UNE, from the respected Albion Daily Express to the Galactic Enquirer. They approached the one-hundred-story edifice of mirrored windows and prismatic crystal, trusting in the ever-present crowd to provide cover. Solar powered lamps lined the brick path to the front door, which slid open with a faint whoosh as they neared. Cool air scen
ted with lemon and rosemary rushed over them as they escaped the summer evening and stepped inside.
Multiple receptionists occupied a long desk curved into a U-shape. As they approached, one of the unoccupied ladies glanced up from her terminal and flashed a practiced smile. “Hello and welcome to the Fleet Building. How may I help you?”
“I’d like to speak with someone about job opportunities at the Galactic Enquirer,” Nisrine said in a pleasant voice.
“Thirty-fifth floor, ask for Alexander,” the receptionist told them. “Please sign in here.”
Kaiden monitored the security feeds as they each passed their wrists above the chip reader embedded in the desk. The lights blinked green and they were allowed through to the elevators.
As the glass tube soared to the top without any stops, Nisrine glanced at him and raised a brow. She swatted his arm. “Stop that,” she whispered.
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
Despite his meddling, they arrived without incident and Nisrine took the lead to ask for Alexander. A busy woman juggling two datapads shooed them toward the desk of a harried assistant scrolling through dozens of virtual pages projected from her desk with touch-sensitive holograms.
“Hello, I’m here about the job opening.”
“Go on in.”
Alexander sat behind a narrow desk, a slim man with oversized glasses perched on a thin nose. Wisps of steam rose from the coffee mug on his desk, and dark circles framed his red-rimmed eyes. He drank Nisrine in with unabashed interest until his attention fell to the ring on her finger.
“Here about the job opening, eh? I’m Alexander Marks, the assistant editor. Rosie told me you were on the way.” His voice was gruff, unimpressed and indifferent despite his polite words.
Undeterred, Nisrine stepped up to him and shook his hand with a wide smile on her face. “Cassie Al-Jabiri. I’m definitely interested and hoped you might have a moment to discuss the opening.”
Alexander’s gaze flicked to Kaiden. “You also here for the job?”
“Oh no, not me, sorry. We were leaving brunch when she saw the ad and insisted we stop in on the way back to our hotel. I can duck out if you want.”
“Eh.” The guy shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. Most people don’t make it past turning in a resumé.”
Nisrine’s mouth pressed into a tight line during the data transfer.
Within seconds, Alexander’s neutral and uninviting expression melted into confusion, then pleasure. “Uh. With a resumé like this, what brings you to our paper? Maybe we should have been hunting you down to poach you from the Golden Press.”
“I didn’t write often, but I’d like to change that and pursue full-time employment. We’re moving here to Albion and leaving the desert behind,” she said after a soft chuckle.
“Can’t blame you. I made a visit to Astreya once for a story and thought I’d melt before the shuttle returned us to the spaceport.” He shook his head. “Anyway, this is going to be different from how you’re accustomed to working back home.”
“I’m a quick study,” she assured him.
“All right. Let me show you what we deal with on a daily basis, then I’ll pass you an application pad so my boss doesn’t chew my ass about skipping procedure. You got the job if you want it, but we require a background check. You don’t mind, right?”
“No, not at all.”
Eager to see the rest of the news floor, Kaiden cleared his throat to remind Alexander of his presence. “Any trouble if I join you? Kind of interesting to see what the wife’s going to be doing from day to day.”
“Sure thing, mate. This way, then.”
He led them from his office through the busy newsroom floor. Even at this late hour, the place was packed, people gathered around desks as they worked to arrange the final copy for the next day’s paper.
Rows of holographic displays and computer banks lined the wall on their right. On their left, a galactic star map spanned across the smooth surface. Unlike the main floor, only five people worked inside the dimly lit space.
“All stories from our entertainment writers are received here for review. I know this is the position you hoped to have, and I don’t want to scare you off, but maybe I can interest you in another job? You seem like a nice young couple and the hours here are bloody long.”
“I expected as much, but how long?”
Kaiden tuned Alexander out. While Nisrine occupied the newsman with a discussion of the work hours, he scanned the room’s electronic signature with his technopathic talent. He bypassed the firewalls and hijacked the incoming feeds while the editor remained oblivious to the intrusion in his system.
After convincing Galinq—the newspaper’s friendly artificial intelligence—to look the other way, he laced a subtle dataminer between the lines of the A.I.’s complex coding. The system turned on its fleshy, organic masters and became Kaiden’s best friend.
“—and that is the typical daily routine.” Alexander finished.
Nisrine smiled up at the assistant editor and took Kaiden’s hand in hers. “Well, we will certainly have a lengthy discussion about it and I will call you tomorrow to let you know if I’d still like the position.”
“Perfect. I hope I hear from you, Mrs. Al-Jabiri. Mr. Al-Jabiri, a pleasure to meet you.”
Alexander walked them all the way out to the elevators, suddenly energetic and filled with conversation. Kaiden felt a brief twinge of guilt. They’d led him on after all, and his potential employee would never return.
“Did you get the code in place?” Nisrine asked once they were on the street.
“It’s in there. Galinq will forward a digital copy of the paper to me as soon as the final edits are accepted. We’ll be the first to have it.” He smiled. “And we’ll know tomorrow’s assassination target before the murderer himself knows who to kill.”
Chapter Thirteen
Once Kaiden and Nisrine confirmed the data from the dead drop’s virtual cache by reading an article about the brilliant Doctor Wesley Martin and his recent charitable contributions in the field of genetic research, they hacked into the man’s electronic schedule and saw plans to join a colleague for lunch the next day.
Charitable. It was a theme, used twice in two articles like a code word. It left no doubt in Kaiden’s mind that this was their man.
Nisrine used her resources to gain a coveted reservation at The Imperial then the pair of agents reversed roles for once. She stayed behind in the comfort of their RV while he embarked on a morning of legwork, trailing their target and observing his routine.
After debating whether to warn him of the danger, they’d ultimately decided to keep Martin in the dark and avoid any behavioral changes that might tip off the assassin. Nisrine wanted both alive, the butcher and the murderer.
Now that they were forewarned about the chips, Kaiden figured it would be easy to disable the signal before it reached their target’s brain.
Would their assassin have such a foul device in his cranium, too, or had they outsourced their work through shady channels? In all likelihood, the killer-for-hire originated from the Amun System, a breeding ground for criminals of every sort, from garden-variety cat burglars to guns for hire with questionable pasts. It was the Wild West of the universe—those who had refused Lexar rule—and renowned for a “kill or be killed” motto where only the strongest survived.
They met at Nodding Park, once again assuming the identity of Mr. and Mrs. Al-Jabiri from Astreya. He’d donned business casual attire before wandering into the city, prepared for the Imperial’s dress code. Likewise, Nisrine wore garments favored by the traditional people of Astreya’s eastern provinces, with her hair bound beneath a colorful wrap as vibrant as her one-shouldered dress. It fit snugly, amplifying the curve of her bosom.
God. Everything she’d worn until that moment had been modest enough that the exposure of one shoulder made him hungry for more. He barely tore his attention away before she noticed him staring.
A
fine wrinkle appeared between her brows. “What?”
Blast. She had seen.
“Nothing. It’s a nice dress. Ah, shows… a bit more than I’m accustomed to seeing of you.” And it was doing things to him that he couldn’t control in public. Refusing to pop an erection on the sidewalk, Kaiden forced his mind to think of lines of code.
“Do you like it?”
He’d like it better on the floor of their spaceship, but since that was clearly out of the question, he just grunted and gave a stiff nod.
“Revealing one shoulder is a new fashion statement in the east.”
“It’s nice.”
“It feels nice. I…” She licked her lips. “I’ve never wanted to show more in public.”
But with him, she did? Suspecting he was reading into it, Kaiden cleared his throat and nodded toward the restaurant looming in the distance. They’d come close enough for him to read a digital emergency plan of the premises with each of its fire exits.
“The Imperial has two levels of dining, with the mezzanine overlooking the floor below. Few places for an assassin to lurk.”
Once inside the establishment, he gave the phony Al-Jabiri name to the cheery hostess and wondered who had been bumped out of a reservation for them to receive the much-desired spot.
The hostess led them from the marble foyer into a large, circular room lit by the subtle glow of candlelight. The glossy floors gave way to thick, forest-green carpet and dark-stained wood. Despite the low lighting, the room lacked a claustrophobic feel. Every linen-covered table and booth was spaced for privacy, with plenty of room to walk through without weaving and bumping into others.
Their guide led them up a wide, curved staircase to the mezzanine level, where the carpet transitioned from green to pale blue. Crystalline sconces on the wall added an additional soft glow to the coveted upper level. Kaiden took a moment to admire wall murals painted to resemble an evening sky fading upward into the night. The domed roof sparkled with hundreds of tiny lights designed to match the constellations and stars over Albion.
Kaiden (The Nova Force Book 2) Page 13
