Heart of a Peacekeeper

by Angela Verdenius

  The communications line was one only privy to his particular ship.

  The screen flared to life, but there was obviously no one on the other end. The screen made him pause, then chuckle. It showed a cartoon picture of a barely-clad buxom female pirate with huge, pouting lips. Illona's voice came over.

  "Hello, you gorgeous hunks of Daamens. We're not here to attend to your needs, but we'll be in touch when we can."

  "Oh, for stars’ sake,” a feminine voice was heard in the background.

  "We're about to go out on a raid now, you well-hung hunks,” Illona's voice continued. “Leave a message and we'll talk to you later!"

  Simon shook his head, half amused and half concerned. The female pirates were friends of an entirely different ilk. He hoped they never got caught, but at the same time, he knew how ruthless they could be. It was only a matter of time before something happened. Mayhap. They were a wily bunch.

  "Lasses, ‘tis Simon. I'm chasing information on a mysterious box that turned up in Tyron, as well as two names, Ruan and Canu. It's urgent, so when you can, get back to me. Thanks—and oh, keep safe. Damn, can't you wenches stay out of trouble?"

  * * * *

  Des, with Chas behind her, strode into the warehouse, spotted Sol talking to a worker, and went directly to him.

  Looking up, Sol frowned. “Did you find out what happened to my warehouse, Demon?"

  "Yeah, about that,” she replied. “A few questions."

  "I've already told you, I don't know anything about the missing box!"

  Chas glanced at Des.

  "Really?” Des said slowly. “Well, isn't that interesting?"

  Anticipation filled her. This was the first sign of something, anything, that might point the way to finding out who was behind the happenings. Any chance was to be seized with both hands, and that's just what she intended.

  "What?” Sol threw down his electronic information gatherer. “What is it?"

  "No one knows about that missing box."

  "Don't be ridiculous."

  "How did you hear about it, Sol?"

  "Talk in the taverns."

  "Who's talking?"

  Sol shuffled back a step. “Some of the whores."

  "Is that so? Well, I'm going to just have to go and have a little chat with them, aren't I?"

  "They're scared of you, Demon. You know they'll say nothing."

  Des smiled tightly. “They usually talk to me because they're scared not to. Come down to the Enforcers Building, Sol, we're going to have a little chat about a few things."

  "I can't. I'm busy and—"

  Grabbing the back of his robe, Des yanked him in front of her and shoved. “Move your arse."

  "Damn it, Demon!” But he moved forward quickly.

  "Chas, go and start questioning the tavern girls. See what they know about the box."

  "Rigtho, Boss."

  Once outside, Chas went to the nearest tavern while Des walked Sol to the Enforcer Building.

  Once inside, she kicked out a chair in front of her desk. “Sit down."

  Obeying, Sol's eyes flashed angrily.

  Huxley watched curiously.

  "Your warehouse, the one that collapsed,” Des began.

  "The one you can't figure out what happened to?” Sol sneered. “What about it?"

  "It's come to my attention that that particular warehouse was hardly used, and in disrepair. An accident waiting to happen, in fact."

  "Who told you that?"

  Ignoring the question, Des leaned back against the desk, towering over Sol intimidatingly. “What did you use the warehouse for?"

  "I'm a merchant, what do you think?"

  "I'm thinking a lot right now. It'd be easier for you if you told me."

  "There's nothing to tell."

  "A warehouse that's a wreck, and one with not much in it. Tell me about it, Sol."

  "Damn it, Demon! There's nothing—awk!” His words cut off when her hand fisted in his robe front and jerked him forward.

  Nose-to-nose, she growled, “I smell something off, Sol, and it's coming from you."

  For the first time, he looked anxious. “Des, listen, I was going to pull that warehouse down."

  "And yet you made such a big fuss when it collapsed. Why?"

  "I just ... I ... It was the shock."

  "You'll have shock in a minute when I reach down your lying throat and pull you inside out.” She shoved him back in the chair and straightened. “Spill your guts before I do it for you."

  A trickle of sweat slid down his temple. “I don't know why it collapsed."

  "Then let's try another item. The box disappearing. You say the tavern girls mentioned it."

  "Yes!” Eagerly, he leaned forward.

  "When?"

  "Last night."

  "Last night?"

  "Yes. Yes, they said it had gone missing."

  "You lying bastard.” Grabbing his robe again, Des hauled him out of the chair and slammed him back against the wall. “That box was here last night. No one apart from we peacekeepers knew it had gone missing, so how is it that you know, Sol? Huh?"

  "Suns, Demon, I swear I just heard it!"

  "Which tavern girl?"

  "I don't remember!"

  "Don't jerk me around, you bloody little vagrat.” Her eyes narrowed on his sweating face and fear-filled eyes. “What do you know of the murders and the missing girl?"

  "No! No, you can't pin them on me!” He started to struggle.

  Fisting both hands into his robe, Des lifted him up and slammed him back against the wall. His feet cleared the floor by a good foot.

  "You listen to me, you piece of crap. I get the real feeling you're into some of this right up to your neck. Before this day is out, I'm going to find something to pin onto you unless you come up with some answers."

  "I can't!"

  "You can."

  "I don't know anything! I swear!"

  "We'll see who'll be doing the swearing.” She dropped him with a jarring thud to his feet, but kept her fist knotted in his robe.

  The door of the Enforcer Building opened and Creed walked in. His brows rose in interest when he saw Sol sweating in her grip.

  "Baby girl,” he said. “You're busy?"

  "Just be a minute, Dad.” Her grin was feral. “Help yourself to a drink while you wait."

  Swinging around, she dragged Sol, squawking and yelling, behind her into the corridor cell. Shoving him into a cell, she slammed the door behind him.

  Regaining his balance, he ran back to the door and grabbed the bars. “You can't do this! What's the charge?"

  "Being a total prick should do it.” Leaving him yelling protests behind her, she strode back out into the main office.

  "You make me so proud.” Creed faked wiping a tear away.

  Huxley grinned widely.

  "He knows something,” Des told him. “Huxley, secure this Building, and then I want you to come down to the warehouse with me."

  "Whatever you say, Boss."

  Des turned to Creed. “Hi, Dad. What brings you here?"

  "I saw you shoving that blubbering mess down the street. I was curious."

  That didn't surprise her. “Did you find anything out about the ship?"

  "Only that it's been spotted on the other side of this planet once, a couple of months ago."

  "Who spotted it?"

  "Cormac's pack. Or his ex-pack, I should say, since he up and wedded the witch."

  "Yeah, wedding will do that to a person. Good thing you and Gracie never hooked up."

  "Cheeky bit.” He tugged her braid. “You're busy, so I'll go back to the ship and see what else I can find."

  "Dad, could you do me a favor?” Des glanced at Huxley, who had moved out onto the verandah, and lowered her voice. “Could you do a check on two names for me?"

  "Sure."

  "Ruan and Canu. It's all I've got."

  "Consider it done. I'll let you know as soon as I have anything."

  "Thank
s."

  She waited until he stepped outside, then she followed, pulling the door shut behind her. There was a faint whir as the locks snapped shut, securing the Building. Creed walked back towards the docking bay, where the bounty hunter ship stood not far from the Daamen trading ship.

  Des and Huxley headed for one of Sol's warehouses near the end of the street.

  "So what are we doing in here?” Huxley asked.

  "We're going to do a search. Sol knows something about that box, but he's not talking."

  "True?” Huxley was intrigued.

  "Yeah. You and I are going to search every corner of the warehouse."

  The four workers were standing around when the peacekeepers arrived, and Des noted who they were, taking their names down in her electronic information pad. Pocketing it, she sent them all outside to wait.

  She looked at Huxley. “Ready?"

  "Ready,” he confirmed.

  Even one-armed, with his broken wrist in a sling, he was able to cut open the ties holding some of the crates together, or lever them open. It took them three hours before they finally finished.

  Sweating, and even more short-tempered than normal at having found nothing, Des kicked one of the crates. “Bloody hell!"

  Huxley nodded. “Bugger."

  "There has to be something. Something...” Frowning, she looked down at the floor, then up. “What's happened to the warehouse that collapsed?"

  "It's all been cleared. Nothing there at all."

  "Damn it."

  "It was only rubble,” he pointed out. “A few bits and pieces, but nothing out of the ordinary."

  Not willing to give up straight away, Des started walking over the floor, stopping now and again to bang her heel against the boards.

  "Looking for a hidey hole?” Huxley guessed.

  "No, doing a tap dance."

  Grinning, Huxley copied her movements.

  They were halfway down the warehouse when she heard an odd empty sound. Rapping her heel on the floor again, her eyes narrowed when the same empty sound resonated.

  Huxley moved to where she stood and they both squatted down and searched for an opening. There didn't seem to be one, and Des stood up and stepped back, gesturing to Huxley to do the same.

  "Let me guess,” he said. “You're going to blast a hole in the floor."

  "Wrong. I do that, I could hit something and destroy it. Something important.” Angling her head, Des walked around the spot. “I'm trying to find a discrepancy in the flooring."

  "You mean like that dark spot?” Huxley pressed down on it with his foot.

  A click sounded, and he drew back as the board slid back to reveal a small hole, and sitting inside it, the box.

  "Well, well.” Kneeling down, Des scooped the box out and held it up. “Sol knows something."

  "If not him, one of his workers,” Huxley said.

  "Good point. Let's round them all up and take them back for questioning."

  They went outside to find only three of the workers waiting. One had left.

  Des's eyes narrowed. “I want him."

  But the man had long since left the settlement.

  * * * *

  Tyson swore. “The bloody idiot!"

  Standing behind his lavish desk, Canute raked him with merciless eyes. “Get someone in that settlement to silence him."

  "Not so easy. The military have landed again, and they're in the Enforcers Building."

  Thrusting his hands in his pockets, Canute glared at Tyson. “The box we can do without. We know where the source is now. But any link to the box and to us must be terminated."

  "Gally would have done it without raising suspicion."

  "Gally's dead. Now you get someone in there to silence anyone who might talk, and that includes Sol."

  Giving a short nod, Tyson left.

  Balling his fists in his pockets, Canute took a long breath and stared at the opposite wall. There was no time to lose now. Everything had to be timed just right. Once the military was gone, and the bounty hunters, it would be time to move.

  He had to hit hard and fast.

  Leaving his luxurious office, he strode out of the house, down the steps and across the dusty yard to where the hill rose up. The opening in it was small, just enough for one man to walk through, but once inside, it opened up into a huge cave that went well underground.

  Standing at the top, he looked down at the sleek ship that rested on the platform below. Behind it was the geological equipment that had to be pushed into fast use. Dangerous, a possible overload, but one that was necessary.

  One that would come into play as soon as the coast was clear.

  Desdemona was starting to tread around the fringes of the plan. Even the fringes were too close.

  "Desdemona,” he said quietly, chidingly. “You are a bad girl. Smart, but bad. You're starting to push me, and I don't find that amusing anymore."

  He needed someone to vent his annoyance on, but Gally was gone. The Demon was not yet his.

  Catching sight of Zared, he waved him over.

  Zared approached, cool and calm as always.

  "Have everything double-checked and ready to move at a moment's notice,” Canute ordered quietly. “Things aren't going quite as planned."

  "Worrying?"

  "A bit. Tyson is hopefully taking care of it. Get Ruan and Levi back here with their men. We'll need them soon."

  "The settlement of Tyron has it, then?"

  "It does. That's the area we need.” Canute looked up as a fighter craft lowered down through an opening in the cave roof, which closed over quickly again. “Once the military have left, and the bounty hunters, and it's just the peacekeepers, we move."

  "Hard and fast,” Zared murmured.

  "Hard and fast.” He looked at his friend. “I find I'm a little lonely, Zared. Fix it for me."

  "Yes, Sir."

  * * * *

  Deciding to leave Sol sweating in the cells, Des shut the door to the corridor of the cells and came back out into the main office.

  Chas walked in and looked from her dirty, sweaty countenance to Huxley's equally grubby clothes. “Should I ask?"

  "Some of us were working while you chatted up the tavern girls,” Huxley informed him. “And me with one arm in action only, too."

  Des sat down. “Did you discover anything?"

  Chas poured a cup of hot una and leaned back against the counter. “The tavern girls knew nothing about the box."

  "Sol's a lying bastard.” Swinging her legs up, Des plunked her heels on the corner of the desk.

  "I'm so surprised,” Huxley said.

  "Sol's not talking?” Chas queried.

  "Not a thing. But he's sweating heaps.” Des grinned. “Now that's fun to watch, if you feel like amusing yourself."

  "You're so generous.” Chas stretched. “I'm getting hungry. The others should be here any minute for shift change."

  "That time already? Time flies when you're having fun."

  Emory, Raf and Yucel came through the door minutes later, the old janitor behind them carrying a tray of food for the prisoner.

  "In back,” Huxley directed him, and he went through to the cells with a nod.

  "We've made some progress while you've all been having your beauty sleep,” Des informed the men. “The vanishing box was found at Sol's warehouse, and he's in the back for questioning."

  "I heard you'd dragged him through the settlement.” Raf grinned.

  "Is he talking?” Yucel queried.

  "How did he fix the security cameras?” Emory queried.

  "The bastard's not bleating as yet, but he's sweating heaps.” Des linked her hands over her stomach. “We're also expecting Captain Gorman to arrive at any time to check out the box himself. He'll probably take it for analysis, which is fine because no one here sure as hell knows what it is."

  The janitor came back out. “Anything else, Demon?"

  "That's it for the night."

  The old man nodded and left the
Building.

  "Any special orders for the shift?” Raf asked.

  "Emory, just keep the fly-overs regular. Yucel, keep close to the scanners and contact me if anything goes wrong. I don't expect much trouble tonight."

  "Oh?"

  "Dad's home."

  He started laughing. “And every outlaw has gone to ground."

  "That's about it. I doubt anyone with trouble on their mind is going to show with the bounty hunters here and the military close by."

  "Unless the Daamens and the bounty hunters have a little conflict."

  "Dad's promised me the hunters will behave.” Des sighed. “Though things can change in seconds. It should be all right."

  "So you're going home now?” Pulling out a chair, Raf sat down.

  "I'll wait for Gorman. Once he's been, then I'll go home."

  A sudden scream from the cell corridor behind them had them all turning and looking at it.

  "What the—” Yucel began.

  The scream came again, followed by hysterical shrieking. “No! No! He can't do this to me! He can't—"

  "Oh shit!” Des bounded out of the chair and ran for the door.

  "Surely not!” Emory was hot on her heels.

  No sooner did Des yank open the door than a wet, muffled explosion sounded, and bits of blood and flesh spewed out of the cell.

  Eleven

  Des slammed the door just in time to hear bits of flesh and blood spatter against it. She looked at Emory.

  "Goddamn,” she said. “I don't believe it."

  "How could it happen?” Emory shook his head.

  "What?” Raf demanded.

  Slowly Des opened the door, and Raf, Chas, Huxley and Yucel gaped at the bloody mess smeared over the corridor.

  "Someone just blew our only source up.” Des drew the laser from the holster on her thigh. “Chas, come with me. We're searching the levels. Yucel, see if you pick up anything unusual on the scanners. Raf and Huxley, search the outside. Emory, get the janitor and bring him back here."

  Refusing to even think about what she was running through, Des dodged the muck on the floors and led the men in a thorough search of the Building, but it proved fruitless. No one was outside or inside the Building apart from the peacekeepers and the blown-apart body of what had once been Sol.