Remembering Ankari, he looked to her, though it was a struggle to meet her eyes. He felt unmanned after letting that fool sling insults at him—and her too. Even if Sherkov had backed down, he hadn’t done it without more parting jabs. Viktor hardly felt that he had won a victory. Perhaps later, they would cross paths in an unmonitored alley, and he could give the response he had truly wished to give.
There wasn’t any judgment in Ankari’s eyes; she smiled tentatively at him, approaching as if she was not sure if he wanted to see her. Oh, he wanted nothing more than to see her. He eyed the sway of her hips as she walked, the curve of her breasts, and the way her lush brown hair bounced around her shoulders. The adrenaline that had been flowing through his veins, eager for a battle, grew eager for something else, shifting to sexual desire, and he growled low in his throat, wanting to push her up against the hull of the shuttle, tear off her clothes, and pound into her right there. The hell with everyone else in the shop.
She couldn’t have known his thoughts, because her smile broadened as their eyes held, and she regarded him fearlessly, unaware of the dangerous tension within him and how much he needed a release. A thread of shame wormed into his gut, the realization that he had been thinking nothing of her needs or pleasing her and only of finding an outlet for his frustration, whether through violence or lust.
It was that shame more than the awareness of others around him that let him draw in a deep, almost shuddering breath to gather himself. He unlocked his clenched fists. He would be more than chagrined if she mistook his locked muscles for anger at her.
But it took a lot to daunt Ankari, and she walked up, still smiling, and placed a hand on his arm. “I know you’re busy today, but I had to come make sure you’re all right. You’ve been known to get shot without mentioning it to people.”
Viktor thought he had calmed his libido, but her touch sent an electrifying jolt of desire through his body. He had to take more deep breaths before he could manage a sentient reply rather than the lusty growl that wanted to escape his throat. “I was not badly injured.”
“Just toasted in a campfire?” She dusted soot off his sleeve, then gave Borage a nod—Azarov was talking to one of the mechanics about the fire extinguishing system that now needed to be recharged. “It’s good to see you, Commander.”
“Ms. Markovich,” Borage said, his voice neutral. He had never criticized Viktor about his choice to keep a trio of civilians on board, ostensibly because Mandrake Company was protecting their business, which it received a cut of, but he had never been enthusiastic about their presence.
After this last mission, Viktor wondered if he was, indeed, doing the right thing with them. From the beginning, he had wanted to keep Ankari in his daily life, but was that a good enough reason to haul the women in and out of dangerous situations? Flipkens was almost part of the crew now, working in engineering and training to become a backup pilot, but Dr. Keys was out of place on the ship—she seemed out of place anywhere except a lab—and might be happier on a planet.
This was a problem to consider later. For now, the ship was out of danger, and once repairs were underway, he could allow himself a night of relaxation. Perhaps not tonight, but the next night, definitely. He draped an arm around Ankari’s shoulders and smiled when she leaned into him.
“Have you been staying out of trouble here?” Viktor asked, lowering his head for a surreptitious sniff of her hair. He loved the scent of her shampoo, a mix of lavender and lilac that reminded him of the gardens back home.
“Mostly,” Ankari said.
“Mostly?”
“Up until about two minutes ago.” She grinned up at him as she dug into her pocket. “That Fleet captain dropped this on his way past me.” She held up a green, military-issue folding tablet, the corners padded so it could survive drops from great heights.
“He dropped it?” Viktor had been too busy glaring at Sherkov to notice much of an exchange between Ankari and the Fleet captain, but he was well aware of her knack for pick-pocketing, a talent she had learned growing up on the streets of Novus Earth.
“Yup, it fell straight out of his pocket and into my hand. I was so stunned that I forgot to call after him and return it. I’ll have to drop it into the lost-and-found later, perhaps after it’s been searched thoroughly for references to you.”
Viktor arched his eyebrows. “You also thought that was some kind of setup?”
“Obviously.”
Her response pleased him. He might have been slightly concerned that she would see him as less manly for doing nothing in the face of all those insults.
“Viktor,” Ankari said, “you can mangle anyone on your crew in unarmed combat, and I presume that information is widely known among other mercenaries. That man either had a death wish or was up to something.”
“Yes,” Viktor said, even more pleased by her words. He should be long past the age where he worried about impressing women with his virility, but he found he still wanted to look good for Ankari. Perhaps because she had once admitted she found his combat prowess arousing. She had seemed a little ashamed by the admission, though he did not know why. He found her background as a mashatui practitioner appealing and had saved the video of her knocking Sergeant Striker on his ass.
“What will you do when you get too old to beat everyone in a fight?” Borage asked.
“I don’t plan to live that long,” Viktor said.
Ankari frowned at this answer.
“Oh?” Borage asked, before Viktor could decide if he wanted to amend his statement for Ankari’s sake. “Between that deal you made with the treasure hunter and the one with Ms. Markovich’s company, I thought you might have aspirations of retiring as a finance lord.”
“Just trying to keep us out of debt, old friend.”
On that note, the mechanics waved for them to come over. They must have finished talking to their employer.
“Let’s see if these numbers are less despicable,” Borage grumbled and headed toward them.
Viktor kissed Ankari on the temple, then released her shoulders. As much as he would have enjoyed sharing far more intimate touches, the noisy, worker-filled machine shop was not the place for it.
“I’ll leave you to your repairs,” Ankari said, though she gave him a swat on the butt before stepping away. “Do you want me to investigate this tablet?”
“Normally I would give it to Thomlin, but since he’s gone and I haven’t found a new intelligence officer yet, I’ll leave it in your hands.”
“If there’s a passcode, Jamie might have some ideas. She’s resourceful, especially when your assassin isn’t around distracting her.”
She winked and headed for the door. Viktor caught himself watching her hips swaying again, and he tore his gaze away. Borage and the others would be waiting for him. Besides, he would go mad, taunting himself with thoughts of sex that could not be acted out, not until the ship was in shape again and he could let the men take leave. Only then would he allow himself to relax.
Chapter 2
Jamie flopped down into the booth opposite from Ankari, sighing dramatically, or perhaps melodramatically. “Can’t you get Captain Lovergrunt to release the troops?”
“Lovergrunt?” Ankari raised her eyebrows as she sipped from her coffee cup. The purloined tablet lay on the table next to her elbow, and she worried that the Fleet captain would track it down soon, but she kept her expression calm and indifferent. If Security stormed in, she fully intended to pretend it had been at the table when she sat down and she had no idea where it had come from, no, sir.
“Gruntlover? He’s your lover, and he grunts more than he speaks. I’ve been trying out different nicknames for him. Mostly because it mortifies Sergei when I do it, because he worships the captain.” Jamie issued another dramatic sigh. “But I haven’t seen him for weeks, so I haven’t been able to test this one on him. He said he can’t leave the ship until the captain announces shore leave.” Jamie glowered balefully at Ankari, not that she managed to l
ook very baleful. As usual, Jamie wore her blonde hair in twin braids that fell down the front of her mechanic’s overalls; she appeared far too young and wholesome to manage baleful.
“Viktor’s hoping that the ship is in decent shape by tomorrow, so he can let non-essential people take leave. I’m sure your libido can wait until then to... share nicknames.” Ankari tapped the tablet, wanting to set the “girl stuff” aside, so they could get to a more important subject, such as how to hack a passcode-protected computer.
“Easy enough for you to say. The captain is on the space station with us. You’ve probably already had hot, sweaty, shoved-up-against-the-wall-of-the-shuttle, earthquake sex with him.”
“No, he’s too busy being mocked by colleagues for having a pink shuttle.” Ankari grimaced at the memory of the conversation she had walked in on. Even if Viktor had hugged her and let little of his irritation show, he would be grumpy about that. The last thing she wanted was for her relationship with him to result in him being less respected, either by his men or by other men he had to deal with in the system. He deserved his fearsome reputation and used it to his advantage, so losing it could prove problematic, both as a captain and as a mercenary for hire. She wanted a joyful reunion with him, not a grumpy one.
After making sure nobody was walking by, Ankari pushed the tablet over to Jamie. “Did you manage to find that program?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Thomlin left all of his security and hacking programs on the Albatross’s network before leaving.” Jamie pulled out her own tablet. “What do you need to know?”
“If there’s anything on there about Viktor or Mandrake Company. Also, what earthquake sex is.” Ankari managed a smile, amused that her twenty-year-old pilot who had been a virgin a couple of months earlier now had a sexual vocabulary that surpassed Ankari’s. Or at least, she had learned some new slang.
“I guess the saying comes out of the Fleet. It’s when you and your lover are rocking the bed so vigorously that the bunks in the cabin next door shake.” Jamie started running some program on her own tablet and flipped open the other one.
“Put those in tight privacy mode, please,” Ankari said, watching past Jamie’s shoulder to the front of the coffee shop and the wide balcony that overlooked the atrium. So far, she had not seen anyone in a Fleet uniform, just shoppers and tourists in civilian clothing, along with the occasional brightly feathered bird or miniature dragon. “And if any men in uniforms show up, stuff the stolen one in the napkin holder and run into the kitchen with me.” Ankari jerked a thumb toward the door at the back of the shop. “I’ve already checked, and we can get out that way if we need to.”
“I’m guessing that means you didn’t simply find this tablet somewhere,” Jamie said, working as she spoke.
“I found it. In a pocket.”
“I thought you weren’t doing that anymore, now that we’re in a less desperate situation.”
“The desperateness of the situation remains to be determined.” Ankari pointed at the Fleet captain’s tablet. She thought about explaining that trap those men had seemed to be creating for Viktor, but the sight of dark uniforms on the far side of the atrium froze her mouth.
Her first hope was that Security had stepped out of the lifts over there, but no, those were the black uniforms of the Fleet, the silver piping on the trousers and sleeves distinctive. The three soldiers were young, so probably not high ranking, but she picked out a sergeant’s double wings in the mix. Of course, those men might be here for another reason—some of the shops carried toiletries and useful items, and there was a hair-cutting place a couple of doors down. Would three men have been sent to retrieve a tablet? No, surely not. Unless they knew that a thief had taken it and it had not simply been lost.
“Have you made any progress?” Ankari murmured.
“Just got in.” Jamie swiped a finger through the holodisplay above the captain’s tablet. “Thomlin had some impressive programs. I wouldn’t have thought I could get into a military unit so easily.”
“Search for Viktor, please. And hurry.”
The soldiers had walked out of view, following the curve of the circular balcony. While Ankari hoped they were heading for the barbershop, she would not want to bet on it. Unfortunately, she and Jamie were in far more incriminating positions now that they were into the tablet. When it had been resting innocently by the napkin holder, they might have pretended it had been there when they sat down. But now...
Ankari was on the verge of grabbing the tablet and heading for the kitchen, even though someone tracking the device would be sure to notice movement. Jamie spoke first.
“Got something.”
Ankari leaned forward. “What?”
“Viktor Mandrake came up in a message from an Admiral Petrakis at high command. It says—”
“Wait,” Ankari said, as much as she wanted nothing more than to hear the rest. Two more black-clad Fleet personnel had come out of the lift on the far side, and she recognized the Chinese captain from the mechanics’ shop. “Can you copy the file? We have to go. Now.”
“Already copied.” Jamie slid out of the booth, snapped the tablet shut, and held it over the napkin holder. “Shall I?”
“Yes. No, wait.” Ankari snatched it from her and strode down the aisle between the booths, toward the rear exit.
She forced herself to walk instead of sprinting, though that first group of soldiers could reach the front of the shop at any second. She slid the tablet into the refuse chute without pausing. When she reached the swinging door in the back, she thrust it open and ushered Jamie through before her. The scent of cinnamon and freshly baked pastries surrounded them, but Ankari barely noticed it. She closed the door, turned, and pressed her nose to the small square window at the top.
“They probably would have been less irked if they had found it on a table,” Jamie said dryly. She did not sound concerned, either because she doubted they could get in trouble for this, or because she hadn’t been the one to steal the tablet.
Ankari did not believe she was safe, either way. The first three soldiers walked into the shop, and she knew without a doubt that they were tracking the tablet. “At least it will take them longer to find it now. Come on. Let’s—”
“This is for employees only,” a man said, stepping around a giant automated mixing machine. He was as wide as he was tall and had a maximum of three hairs sweeping across his bald pate.
“We were looking for the lavatory. Is it through there?” Ankari pointed toward a back door that she knew, from the map she had downloaded of the installation, led to an employee corridor with cargo elevators and stairs. Either would work for their escape. She stepped in that direction, but the man frowned and moved to cut them off.
“That’s for employees only too. There’s a customer lav back out on the balcony.”
“Is there? So inconvenient.” Ankari gave the man her best flirty smile. Viktor told her she wasn’t that good at flirting her way out of trouble and should stick to mashatui kicks, but she already had problems without hurling bakers across kitchens. Besides, she doubted her best side kick could move a three-hundred-pound man far. “We really need to use the one back there. The facilities out front were terribly dirty, with a toilet overflowing like an erupting volcano. I’m sure your colleagues won’t mind.”
The baker’s eyebrows had risen at her imagery, and some of his resoluteness faded from his face while he pondered.
Since they did not have time for him to ponder, Ankari smiled even more broadly, clasped his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said and rushed for the back door.
Jamie hustled after her without comment.
“Oh,” Ankari added before slipping out into the corridor. “If anyone is looking for us, we’d appreciate it if you hadn’t seen us.”
The baker had his hand to his cheek as he blinked after her in surprise. “I... no. I saw nothing.” He smiled.
Feeling guilty for using her feminine wiles on him—and toilet-vol
cano imagery as well—Ankari pushed into a utilitarian white corridor. It lacked the vines curling along the railings and the gurgle of waterfalls and fountains that provided ambiance to the atrium balcony, but that suited her fine. She had dodged parrot poop more than once during her shopping trip earlier.
“You think he’ll talk?” Jamie asked as they jogged around a bend and spotted a cargo elevator at the end of the corridor.
“I hope not. I hope the soldiers don’t think to question him, that they’ll run straight down to wherever that garbage chute comes out. The trash probably gets incinerated and turned into compost for the armada of plants here, so they’ll want to hurry.”
It was wishful thinking, but Ankari hoped the tablet would end up being incinerated or so damaged that the Fleet captain would not be able to figure out who had been tinkering with it. She also hoped that the coffee shop had not been recording video that could be requisitioned later. It was a lot to hope for.
“Any chance you were able to erase your tracks after you copied that file, Jamie?”
The cargo elevator doors opened, and they stepped into a musty car with a sticky stain on the floor.
“No, I barely got the file.” Jamie’s mouth twisted. “I’m not that fast. Or experienced with bypassing computer security systems. We didn’t have a lot of security on the tractors back home.”
“No nefarious neighbors coming into your barn in the middle of the night to plow your field on the sly?”
“No. Sorry.”
Ankari gripped Jamie’s shoulder. “Your help was perfect. More than I could have done. Thank you for taking a break from pining for Sergei to come help me.” She hadn’t wanted to risk leading the Fleet men back to their shuttle, but now wondered if they might have had more time with the tablet if she had done so. But what trash chute would she have thrown it down then?
“I wasn’t pining. We were talking about our plans to enroll in a distance learning course together.”
Mercenary Courage (Mandrake Company) Page 3
