“Ten to twelve feet. About three meters.”
He set his psi shield to register an alarm if a grenade penetrated the critical area. But while he might evade one or two grenades, if they encountered trouble, he might face dozens of HGLs.
He considered her statements. “If I agree to let you accompany me, I could still get hit by a grenade.”
Angel rolled her eyes at the ceiling, then released a heavy sigh. “Women on Dakmar won’t mess with me. If we’re together, they’ll leave you alone.”
“Why don’t they mess with you?” he asked, suspecting he really didn’t want to hear her answer. As much as he admired a woman who could take care of herself, he preferred she’d never have to defend her life. Angel had implied quite clearly that she’d placed herself in dangerous situations, ones that might give him nightmares.
“The time before the Raven’s last landing, a man by the name of Jaz tried to switch in shoddy materials on the Raven’s repair work for the top-quality bendar cannons I’d commissioned. Petroy and I tracked Jaz into The Peel. He got word of our arrival and set up an ambush. He lost. I recovered my cannons. Word got around.”
The way she summarized led him to believe Jaz was no longer alive. She’d left out details—which told Kirek more than if she’d bragged about her abilities. But what scared him right down to the marrow in his bones was that she hadn’t hesitated to track Jaz into The Peel. She could have shrugged off the loss … but that wasn’t Angel’s nature. She defended what was hers and had risked her life at risk to do so.
Obviously, he required her help. But Jaz might have friends who wanted revenge. The idea of taking Angel with him into The Peel seemed reckless.
He checked the vidscreen, searching for female mercs to hire to protect him. Angel leaned over and shook her head. “You can’t trust them. For a large enough bribe, mercs will betray you, and for the right price, they’ll even turn on one another.”
“All right.” He flicked off the monitor, knowing he was beaten. “Let’s go scout out my contact’s meet-and-greet locale. I suppose you’ll be happy to hear it’s at the Lay Down Easy, a gambling establishment.”
“Also, a house of prostitution.” She grinned. “It’s known for men who can last for days.”
“Days?” He hoped she was teasing him again, but one glance at her hard eyes told him she had a history at Lay Down Easy or another establishment like it.
“The males use stims.” Her tone ripped with healthy disapproval.
“How do you know?” His gaze searched hers, and he read loathing in her eyes.
“Petroy makes no secret of his past. He used to be a slave in a place like this.”
“On Dakmar?” Slavery was illegal in the Federation, but space was wide. Kirek had heard rumors of other worlds where the authorities allowed the slave trade to flourish.
She shook her head. “Slavers grabbed Petroy from his home world and imprisoned him on Friva, a space station in another sector. The methods to enslave are the same. The men are addicted to the stims.”
Kirek had never been a slave, but being a hostage on Endeki was close enough. Women had used him as they wished. One Endekian had been particularly cruel. Although he’d escaped from her within days, the memory of his own brush with that demeaning life caused a shudder of distaste.
Angel must have misinterpreted his reaction. “I rescued Petroy … and before you ask … no, we have no personal history.” She spoke defensively. “I’d never met him until his stim wore off and some merc toasted him with a grenade. I could hardly leave him twitching at my feet, so I brought him to the Raven and helped him recover from his addiction.”
“And his fried neurons?”
“He has no memories before his time on the Raven.”
“You seem to make a habit of rescuing lost souls. Petroy. The singer on your last trip.”
“Petroy makes a great first officer. He’s loyal, and his life is the Raven. Merline, the singer, paid me for passage in frelle.”
That wasn’t the story he’d heard. Frie had told him the rare spice had been a gift from a grateful stowaway. His Angel had a soft heart, one which she hid behind a tough exterior.
Kirek didn’t fit into the lost-soul category. He had a wonderful family, friends, and a home to return to. Was that why Angel refused to admit she had feelings for him? Kirek wished he understood her better, but now, as they were about to head toward the Lay Down Easy, was not the time for personal concerns.
Instead, still worried about taking Angel with him, he searched the cache of weapons and helped himself to a stunner and a knife. Knowing he required her help increased his concern. Yet, after he accepted that she would distract him, he was determined to stay doubly alert and ready for action.
Andromeda Galaxy
“HAVE YOU FOUND the Rystani named Kirek?” the Zin demanded, his tone more aggressive and hostile than before.
Clearly the Great Zin was losing patience, but the Kraj captain had no reason to cower. He had good news.
“Yes. I have found him. He hides on an insignificant Dakmar moon.”
“You’re certain?”
“He and the woman Captain Angel Taylor are together. We saw them copulating in an underwater pool.”
“You killed Kirek?”
“He escaped through an underwater tunnel.”
“Again you failed?”
“But we will take him soon. Even as we speak, he walks into my trap.”
“How do you know he hasn’t already fled?”
“He’s with the woman, and the woman wouldn’t leave without her ship, a ship that remains in the repair dock.”
“You are making assumptions you cannot prove. He could have left the woman.”
“He didn’t. My scanners have located them exiting the mansion’s secret entrance. They are on the way to The Peel, where I have set up an ambush.”
“Good. Contact me when you have him.”
“Agreed.”
Chapter Thirteen
THE LAY DOWN EASY looked and felt like Kirek expected—with one exception. Dim lighting, dancing men and women, an assortment of humanoids and beings from other sectors, harsh music, greasy food, and watered-down drinks seemed standard fare for seedy gambling establishments. However, usually Kirek could use his psi to alter the machines to pay out in his favor. Although his psi might not have recovered enough to overcome the computer locks’ resistance, he was picking up unusual shielding or dampeners that made his psi feel as if he were reaching through a dense black fog.
Following their plan, Angel strode in ahead of him, invited herself into a card game, and proceeded to pretend she didn’t know Kirek. One handsome and dangerous-looking player moved his chips over to make room for her and shot her an engaging smile of welcome. Kirek refrained from bristling and told himself that the sexy grin Angel returned was all for show.
Their walk into The Peel had been so ordinary and free of conflict that he’d wondered if Angel had exaggerated the dangers, but after two gorgeous redheads approached him, and Angel stood and glared until they backed away, he realized she’d been protecting him from robbery by her presence alone, just as she’d claimed.
Kirek couldn’t deny she fit into the card game with an easy camaraderie that suggested she’d played in many places as disreputable as the Lay Down Easy. With a stack of credit chips at one hand, a drink in the other, Angel played with confidence. However, she multi-tasked, her gaze raking the entire scene, conscious of every moment. He had no doubt that if any mercs approached, she would make her presence known.
Leaning back against a wall, Kirek watched the front doors, awaiting the arrival of his contact, Vee. Since Vee typically used a prearranged drop and this was their first meet in the flesh, Kirek shifted impatiently, wondering why the mode of operation had changed. Uninformed if Vee was a man or a woman or even a non-humanoid, he surveyed the occupants with care, wondering if Vee could have arrived even earlier than they had.
Kirek’s instruction had been clear—V
ee would find him. Kirek felt as if he was wearing a target on his chest as he waited for a stranger to approach. Several did, but they kept walking by, not giving him a second glance.
For a long thirty Federation minutes, no one except the bar bot approached. Angel used the time to chat, to drink, and to play a few hands. She neither won nor lost a huge amount of chips, playing patiently. Her gaze frequently slid over him but never stopped.
Kirek’s psi itched near his nape, and as he reached up to knead out some tension a curtain behind the stage moved. He narrowed his gaze, tightened his muscles, and held his breath, waiting to see who might suddenly appear—because the comic performer wasn’t due to start his gig for another hour.
Lights dimmed even further, and the music changed to an upbeat drum tempo. A hush fell over the room.
The curtains parted and women, men, and several tiny sequined birds gyrated and flew across the stage in a swirling array of sparkling costumes, toned flesh, gliding feet, and flapping wings. Far from the stage, in the darkness, Kirek tensed at the unscheduled performance. As the dancers made a side exit and left the stage, zigzagging across the room and into the audience, he merged deeper into the shadows and kept his eyes away from the bright spotlights.
Under the cover of the commotion, he spied a humanoid shadow approaching and wondered if his contact had arranged the distraction to divert any curious eyes from his own entrance.
A raspy voice whispered out of the darkness. “Kirek?”
“Vee?”
“You have the credits?” The stranger kept his head down, and Kirek couldn’t see his face.
“You have the information?” he countered.
Vee reached into his jacket. “Let’s do this fast. I may have been followed.”
“Followed by whom?” Kirek asked.
Before Vee answered or withdrew his hand, dancers lunged toward them, their speed quick due to their athletic limbs and the coordinated manipulation of their suits. At the same time, exterior doors opened, and several Kraj entered, their stunners drawn.
Kirek’s muscles tensed, ready for action as he assessed his options. He heard metal clunk and roll, and out of his peripheral vision he spied a grenade rolling toward him. Then a second grenade launched his way, signaling a full-fledged, coordinated attack. One grenade popped early, its flare inciting a riot.
Amid screams and shouts, those patrons who weren’t caught in the grenade’s devastating blast bolted for the exits. In their panic, they shoved into the Kraj, pushing them backward, delaying their arrival, and preventing their shots from hitting their target—him. Random shooting broke out. Blasters, stunners, and projectile weapons flashed, flared, and roared. Terrified customers stampeded for every exit, knocking over other beings, tables, and gambling machines.
With Kraj obstructing the egress and grenades rolling his way, Kirek glanced toward Angel. She was already halfway across the room, lunging toward him, but there were lots of bodies in her way. An overhead stage light caught her face in its sweeping beam and showed her mask of concentration and fear as she shoved between patrons.
Kirek couldn’t remain where he was without risking his brain cells to the effects of the grenades. He grabbed Vee, his intention to employ his psi’s null grav to lift them over the heads of the oncoming dancers. But his psi didn’t work. The dampeners that he’d noted earlier seemed to blanket and dull his energy. He tried to use his com to contact Angel and wasn’t surprised to find it jammed.
Kirek cursed and kicked a grenade toward the Kraj. Beside him, Vee yelped and then shuddered to the floor. He didn’t move again.
Ducking, Kirek kneeled beside the fallen man, whose face was lit up by the fire of nearby stunners. Blank eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling.
Just to be certain Vee was dead, Kirek placed his fingers on Vee’s neck in search of a pulse and found none. He swore softly. Had Vee taken a hit meant for him? Or did he have enemies of his own?
Either way, Kirek needed the location of the portal that could sling the Raven into the Andromeda Galaxy. Without the intel, he couldn’t stop the Zin.
He picked up another grenade and lobbed it toward the empty stage then took precious seconds to search Vee’s jacket. When his fingers found an intel disc, he shoved it into his own suit, praying it contained the portal’s location. Kirek was about to stand when Angel rolled toward him.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I had to toss in a royal flush,” she muttered.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Damn right you will.” She took cover behind an upended table. “We need to find a way out the back.”
Kirek raised his stunner. “I’ll cover you. Go.”
Angel ducked right, left, and slammed right into a Kraj. Fearful that the alien would kill her, Kirek’s heart jammed up into his throat. Kirek took the only shot open to him, a head shot. He hit his target, and the big alien almost fell on top of her, but she dodged and squirmed forward through the mass of bodies, not wasting a moment or even waiting until the stunned Kraj struck the floor.
Adrenaline surging, Kirek hurried to follow, his feet kicking away another grenade even as he shifted left and used a knife-hand strike against a female attacker’s throat. He’d never downed a woman before, but she’d given him no choice.
He had no time for regrets, not with the Kraj advancing and Angel sprinting backstage. With her slender frame, she’d woven through the crowd more easily than he could. He barely kept up as he avoided another attack, this time from a tiny bird that seemed intent on aiming for his eyes.
Agel had moved so fast, she was now out of sight. Taking four steps at a time, Kirek raced behind the curtain to catch sight of Angel at the far end of the building—in hand-to-hand combat with two redheads: Heart ramming in his chest, sweat pouring from his cells, he lunged forward and simultaneously tried to steady his blaster, waiting for a clear shot. But the women were too close together for him to risk shooting.
As he neared, he watched Angel pull her blaster, jam it against one woman’s stomach. Her other opponent attempted to knock away the weapon, but Angel got off a shot. Then she spun and drop-kicked the second woman in the chest, and Angel’s attacker collapsed into a moan.
“Nice move.” He finally caught up with her and assessed her injuries. She sported a bruise by one eye and a few scratches on her forearm but otherwise, she looked good. Better than good. Her eyes danced and sparkled as if she was having the time of her life. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her she’d better not scare him like that again.
Angel glanced at him, barely breathing hard, and gestured toward a rear exit where a Kraj guarded the door. “Try to keep up.”
“Don’t run,” he ordered.
“Excuse me?”
“Running out of this building will attract attention.”
“Kirek, a hundred people must have just fled this building. We’re hardly going to stick out—”
“The crowd’s gone. Kraj are hunting. We need to sneak out without the Kraj spotting and shooting us. I’d like to find a com that works.”
Angel grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the side wall and behind some props. “What do you mean a com that works?”
“A jamming device is blocking my com and my psi. Can’t you feel it?”
“I do have a headache. I thought it was from the smoke.” Angel changed a setting on her grenade launcher. “Stand back and use your vision filters.”
A second later, she blew a hole in the side of the building big enough for them to crawl through. Outside, a corridor led past garbage into an alley with several locked doors. From the alley he could see that it eventually widened into a larger passageway. From the shouts and screams behind and ahead, he suspected the Kraj were shooting bystanders.
They had to get off public roads and sidewalks. Angel tried the first door on the right. “Locked.”
He tried the next. “Locked again.”
By the last door, he heard a skimmer hove
ring at the end of the alley. Time was running out. Kirek used his foot to break the lock. Luckily the old rusty hinge broke on his third kick.
He stepped into the rear of a store filled with baskets, plants, and herbs. A pink-skinned man, a terrified blue-haired woman, and an equally frightened child stared at him. The tiny woman screamed and grabbed her toddler, who burst into tears. Angel stepped past the broken door, and Kirek held it open to keep it from falling on her then propped it back in place as best he could.
When he turned around, the man held a shaking blaster aimed at Kirek’s chest. Advancing, Angel bumped into Kirek’s back, but he braced, keeping her behind him.
The man gestured for his wife to take the child to another room but didn’t take his gaze from Kirek. “Don’t move.”
Kirek strengthened his psi shield, noting the dampening had dissipated, but was not yet gone. “We mean you no harm. If you hide us, I’ll pay you well.”
“I’ll call the authorities,” the woman whined. Her child continued to scream. “Stun them so they can’t run away. Maybe we can collect a reward for their capture.”
Outside the skimmer roared to a stop. Booted feet marched down the corridor.
“Please.” Angel stepped out from behind Kirek and pointed at him. “This man wants to make me his slave. If you turn us over to the botcops, he’ll pay a fine, and I’ll disappear forever.”
Kirek’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. Where did she come up with such stories? Was she trying to make the man shoot him? Already frightened, now doubly suspicious, the man’s shocked gaze scowled at Kirek.
Angel sidled over to the woman. “Please, let me scoot out the front door and be on my way.”
The man held the gun on Kirek. He paid no attention at all to Angel. With her swollen eye and the way she hunched her shoulders, she looked harmless, beaten, scared. She slipped behind the woman. In one swift move, she pulled her blaster and placed it to the woman’s temple.
“Drop your weapon,” she ordered the man. Stunned by the sudden turn of events, the man dropped the gun. Kirek scooped it up.
Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest Page 16
