“But why you? You’re not the president anymore.”
“No, but I’m the one they first built a relationship with. They want to speak to me and only me.”
“Fine. How do we work this then? How do I explain that you’ve suddenly disappeared off the ship, Nan? I have a feeling the Pickets are on to us anyway. Pretty bad timing.”
“I haven’t a doubt you can take care of yourselves. You’ve gone up against an army of rhino-warriors in the past, so you can handle a few mountain Bubbas. Just keep an eye on Bristol. He has a tendency to mouth-off and can’t defend himself—well, like you, Billy, and Rizzo do. To keep your cover, I’ll have Sergeant Major Stone take me off the ship in the Goliath. She can return right after she drops me off on the Jumelle.”
“Wait … you want the Jumelle to take you? Where? Back to Liberty Station?”
“That’s the other thing, Jason. I need to borrow your Star Watch vessel as I’ll have to be in Allarian space within the next few hours; a day at the most.”
“So you’re taking both ships … the Goliath and the Jumelle … and what … leaving us stranded here?”
“You’re a big boy, Jason … stop whining. I’ll send Stone right back. For shit’s sake, don’t fume like such a baby about this.”
At that moment, Jason remembered how infuriating it used to be being married to this woman in years past. “Fine … I’ll contact the Jumelle and speak with Stone, she’ll probably—”
“Oh, and I’ll need Rizzo, too. Since he’s still on board the Goliath, I could use him as a bodyguard.”
“What about Colonel Stephen Pope … your supposed to be husband?”
“He stays here. Pope’s still the representative of our mining company … right? As far as I know, Brent is still taking you to meet with Orloff. So meet with him and you’ll then discover Ryan’s whereabouts.”
“I’m not so sure about that, but I’ll stay the course,” Jason said.
“That’s the spirit. I’ll come back as soon as I can. Sorry about all this, Jason. I know you were doing me a huge favor to come in the first place.”
* * *
Billy and Bristol caught up with Jason in the passageway outside Colonel Pope’s quarters. He quickly brought them up to date on his latest conversation with Nan. After two firm knocks, Pope opened the hatch to his quarters. He was partially dressed, wearing Levi’s and a wife-beater undershirt. Drink in hand, he said, “I found a bottle of something … can I get you boys a glass?”
Jason said, “No, but thanks, we’re fine.”
“Suit yourselves.” Pope shrugged, then tipped an odd-shaped bottle sideways to pour amber liquid into a metal cup.
“What’s going on with you, Pope?” Jason asked, perceiving the man had some kind of attitude problem brewing.
The older man swayed on his feet, an obvious sign he’d been sampling the strange elixir. Jerking his head up—his cold blue eyes narrowing—he said, “You’ll address me as Colonel Pope, Captain. I outrank you, mister, and you’ll give me the respect—”
“Oh boy …” Billy said, barely audible.
Jason, already in a foul mood, stepped forward and slapped the cup from Pope’s hand. Next, taking a fistful of the colonel’s undershirt in one hand, he slammed him up against the nearest bulkhead. “Listen to me carefully. Nobody outranks me. Nobody! I not only commanded Star Watch, I commanded the entire U.S. fleet and the Allied forces together simultaneously. I’ve chosen this current … station … because I’m tired and I needed one fucking minute to have some semblance of a normal life. But don’t for a second think you outrank me, Pope. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
Pope held Jason’s glare for several seconds before offering up a nearly imperceptible nod. Jason gave him another good shove into the bulkhead for good measure, then released his shirt hold and stepped away. He caught Bristol and Billy exchanging a brief glance. Maybe he’d overreacted, but he didn’t care. Pope’s presence always irritated him, ever since they’d first encountered back in Colorado. Jason, still heated up, tried mentally to convince himself it had nothing to do with the fact the man was sleeping with his ex-wife, but he knew that would be a lie.
“We still have a mission to accomplish here. You can drink to your heart’s content once we’re done.”
Bristol said, “I’ve been in contact with Ricket … back on the Jumelle. They are, or were, about an hour ago, not too far behind us. Still out of this old bucket of bolts’ sensor range. He told me that we’ve changed course several times and are currently headed for what looks like a very small ship. Perhaps a small delivery freight van.”
“What’s the ETA on that?” Jason asked.
Shrugging, Bristol said, “Any time now. Now that the Jumelle is gone and the Goliath is no longer parked in the flight bay, I guess we’ll need to ask the brothers. We’re pretty much on our own now.”
Billy said, “I don’t like this whole setup. It’s obvious something’s changed with them. How do we know they haven’t been in contact with Orloff? Or maybe they’ve figured out who we … you … are, Cap?” He gestured toward Jason with an unlit cigar he’d pulled from a shirt pocket.
“We’re slowing,” Bristol said, looking upward at nothing in particular. “I can feel the compensators working overtime.”
Jason didn’t feel the change, but taking Bristol’s word for it, he said, “Let’s get up to the bridge. See if we can get some answers.”
“We’re due in the … what’s it called? The Grand Sacellum? I guess it’s meal time,” Pope said. “One of the brothers … Larry, I think, knocked on my hatch ten minutes before you three arrived here.”
“Yeah, you go ahead, Pope,” Jason said. “I have too many bad recollections about that place.”
* * *
The three made their way to the Craing heavy cruiser’s bridge without passing a soul in the various corridors and passageways. Upon entering the bridge, Jason took in the large compartment.
“What a hellhole,” Bristol commented.
At the far end of the bridge was a raised platform—typically present on Craing warships—where the officers usually sat, overseeing and presiding over their junior officers. One command seat was missing and the other two seemed ready to fall apart. Bristol was right; the ship was a hellhole.
Four crewmembers were present—all Craing—still wearing their original, now stained and frayed, uniforms. The Craing had their backs to them. Jason watched them as they worked. With the war over years ago, they should have been allowed to return to their homes … to their families.
“What are you doing here!”
Jason spun around to see Larry Picket, standing at the back of the compartment with his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the back bulkhead, he was either overseer or slave master—perhaps both.
“Hey there, Larry … we were looking for you,” Jason said.
“You’re supposed to be in the chapel … getting grub.” He eyed them warily.
“I have to be honest with you, that place creeps me out. We thought we’d take a tour of the ship instead … is that okay?”
“I guess. But I should probably ask Brent.” He moved toward one of the outlying consoles when Billy asked, “Um … what’s that?”
Larry stopped and turned. Noting Billy’s pointed outstretched finger, he followed its direction to a somewhat blurry, scratched, forward display screen. There, in the blackness of open space, something small and white was visible.
Larry barked off a series of orders in broken Craing. The display’s perspective altered and the object instantly magnified.
“That’s a Consignment Freight van,” Bristol said, taking a step forward.
It took several minutes before the Craing heavy cruiser got close enough for actual detail to become evident. Jason, taking in the extreme damage to the van’s front starboard quarter section, knew the collision was obviously catastrophic for the driver. His thoughts went to Nan. … he’d have to tell her; tell her Ryan was
dead. No one could have survived an impact like that.
“That’s not her nephew’s van … that’s not Ryan’s,” Bristol said. “This one was piloted by Donald what’s his name …”
CHAPTER 33
Larry stormed over to a seated Craing crewmember and began barking orders at him.
Keeping his voice low, Bristol said, “I’m pretty sure Orloff’s vessel caused it.”
Jason and Billy, baffled, both gave him bewildered expressions.
“Look … the only reason we’re here now, at that same van’s location, is because the Picket brothers managed to obtain … or at least some part of … Orloff’s spatial coordinates. Perhaps when he checked in. He obviously doesn’t want to be found … even by his own family. But should he call in … wanting to talk to Mamma … he opens up a channel and his coordinates are also transmitted. So I just bet you that mountain man was responsible. He killed Donald.”
“I think it’s time we end this little charade,” Jason said. “It’s elevated way past a missing person report.” About to take action, he hesitated, receiving a new NanoCom hail. That’s weird, he thought, noting it was from Gunny Orion.
“How is it you’re contacting me?”
“Captain?” Orion asked.
“Didn’t Goliath arrive? Nan, along with Stone and Rizzo?”
“That’s why I’ve hailed you. I know you requested quiet comms for your mission, but Goliath has yet to arrive here …”
Now noticing Larry—still standing on the far side of the bridge—was glaring back at him, Jason turned away. “You’re saying that you’re, the Jumelle is, still following behind us?”
“Yes, we’re still back here, Cap. Do you need a team of Sharks over there?”
“No … not until I figure out what happened to Nan. Shit, they may have taken her, or, worse yet, harmed her in some way. Gunny, can you get a fix on her location? Here on this ship?”
“Of course. Hold on, Cap.”
Jason looked back over his shoulder and saw Larry heading in his direction. He didn’t look happy.
“Cap, I don’t see any sign of Nan … or Stone or Rizzo either, for that matter!”
“And the Goliath?”
“Gone. No longer there in the flight bay.”
“How about those other two brothers … Brent and Payne?”
“Also gone. I’m picking up only a single Craing presence in Engineering. Pope is in one of the quarters, while everyone else on board is right there with you, on the bridge.”
“I’ll get back to you, Gunny, have to go now.” Jason cut the connection and turned to face Larry. “What’s going on? Where is—”
“Put a sock in it, Captain Reynolds. If you contact your ship again I assure you that all others in your party, starting with your ex-wife, will be killed.”
Jason looked at him mystified, but Larry wasn’t buying the act.
“We know all about your internal nano-devices,” Larry said, pointing to his own head. “We also know who and what you are, Captain, since before you arrived in Dollywood.”
At that moment, Jeebrie, the small Craing stationed in Engineering, hurried onto the bridge.
“That’s not good,” Bristol muttered, eyeing the object held in the Craing’s hand. “He’s got a Drooler. It’s a kind of neural paralysis generator. The Craing started using those things toward the end of the war. Get caught in its beam and you lose all motor skills, along with the ability to utilize your nano-devices.”
Without hesitation, Jason started to hail the Jumelle, but it was too late, as Jeebrie had already pulled the trigger on his handheld device. Billy, Bristol, and Jason—all caught in the wide beam, immediately fell, collapsing onto the deck.
Jason, lying prone, could see only the legs and feet of Larry and Jeebrie, standing above him. When he felt sudden moisture collect at the corners of his mouth he quickly understood why the weapon was called a Drooler. He also felt his bladder release. Unable to blink, swallow, or move, he tried to access his NanoCom … but no go. The only good news was his heart was beating normally and his lungs taking in air. That, and he was able still to think and mutely observe what was going on around him …
Movement. Another pair of legs was approaching. They came to a stop next to Larry and the small Craing. Wearing blue jeans—Levi’s—Jason heard Pope’s unmistakable voice ask them: “How long will they be … like this?”
Larry said, “We’ll need to zap them every hour.”
“And the ship following us?”
“Can no longer see them,” Jeebrie said. “Their bodies, all the way down to the molecular level, are resonating at a different frequency. Unless they’d know exactly what to look for, these three humans, like the others, are now invisible to their sensor scans.”
Jeebrie said, “They’ll send a team to investigate,” Pope said. “We don’t have long … maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”
Instantly, a blinding white flash occurred near him and Jason saw the legs of someone else appear, wearing a battle suit. Relieved, he thought, we’re being rescued. But, as segments of the battle suit retracted, he knew something was very wrong.
“Where’s the Goliath?” Larry asked.
“Not far … we need to go.”
Jason recognized the voice—Brent’s.
“Here, clip these onto your belts.”
Jason surmised they were SuitPac devices, probably taken off the immobilized Stone, Rizzo, and Nan. He also noticed Brent’s hillbilly accent was mostly gone. Obviously, some kind of elaborate plan had long been in the works. One that Colonel Pope was involved with too. The bastard! But to what end? Was the abduction of Nan’s nephew, Ryan Chase, always part of the plan? Yes, of course! He was the bait to get Nan involved. No doubt, Pope had manipulated her; had made suggestions and steered her into meeting the Pickets. In retrospect, it was ingenious. How else could the ex-president of the United States be lured away from her secret service detail—suddenly drop everything to journey into space? She would bring in a hefty bounty. Then add to that his own capture; there’d be no limit to what the Pickets could demand—be it money or gold … or, perhaps, something else entirely.
But some things still didn’t add up. Like Orloff—the bat-shit-crazy brother. What was his role in this? Just to capture Ryan Chase? He seemed to have more of his own agenda—perhaps separate from the rest of the family.
Jason realized his body was rising, as smallish hands lifted him up. Craing crewmembers. Next to him, Pope lifted Bristol’s body and Larry lifted Billy. Brent reinitialized his battle suit. Behind the visor, Jason could see his focused concentration—probably going through various HUD menus. The simple fact that he’d figured out as much as he had indicated prior military experience—perhaps even a tour on a Star Watch vessel, where access to a Caldurian battle suit was normal.
“Ah … here we go! Group phase-shift settings have their own separate menu. Make sure you’ve got a firm hold on those three,” Brent said.
“And this ship? The Craing crew?” Pope asked.
Larry, initializing his own battle suit, said, “This ship’s a piece of crap. And who gives a shit about a handful of Craing, anyway?”
Pope initialized his own battle suit.
At this point, Jason, Bristol, and Billy were being held firmly upright. Limp—their heads drooped loosely to one side. All three had lost control of their bladders. Though Jason couldn’t quite see Bristol’s face, he had a good view of Billy’s. Long strings of drool dripped out from the corners of his mouth.
And then—in an intense white flash—they all disappeared.
CHAPTER 34
Wendy was not hog-tied, nor actually hanging upside down. But she was bound at the wrists and ankles and tied onto a tree, with her arms secured behind her. She was also gagged. She had come to a decision—right after her initial abduction—that she wouldn’t become a victim. She knew she was smart, always did well in school, and told she had a good analytical mind.
Wendy watched the la
rge brutish man move about the small clearing in the trees. Numerous times, before he gagged her, she’d tried to engage him in conversation but he’d have none of that. On those rare occasions when he actually looked at her, there was an awkward nervousness to his stare. His interaction with women, probably, was kept to a bare minimum. She guessed, at least in that regard, he had a childlike mentality.
Orloff was making preparations for … something. Setting up some kind of booby-trap. And, she realized, she was the bait. The man was after someone. His long-barreled rifle, leaning up against a distant rock, looked like a fairly elaborate weapon. Maybe like a sniper’s, she thought, though she didn’t know much about guns. Twenty paces directly across from her was a tree similar to the one she was tied to. It too had bright-yellow pine-like branches. The fragrance the trees emitted was bitter and somewhat lemony—but not unpleasant. Orloff was now perched in that tree. He’d climbed up there with an assortment of things—a weapon of sorts, plus sharp objects—like crudely made spears or arrows. The guy was a serious hunter! But who was he hunting? If she was the bait—who’d come for her? Her Dad? No … he’d never been to outer space. Her thoughts turned to Ryan. She’d considered him earlier, but then disregarded the idea. She adored him, but he was a skinny, rarely ever serious, kid. What had Olivia said? That he was an adorable goofball. But then again, wasn’t he in the service … in the Navy? When asked about that period in his life he always brushed it off. Was there another side to him she was totally ignorant of? Maybe. There was something else, too. Something Tony Post had mentioned. He’d said it with utter distain—something about a relative of Ryan’s—someone super important. Ryan didn’t like talking about that subject, either. The guy’s got so many fucking secrets! She felt her irritation growing, just thinking about Ryan, when a heavy sadness overtook her. She suddenly knew, beyond any doubt, that this elaborate setup was for Ryan. The smelly big redneck was luring her boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend. No! He still was her boyfriend; she didn’t want to be without him. She was his—all his—there was no denying that.
Space Chase (Star Watch Book 5) Page 16
