The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance)

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  Lauren spotted Hailey walking in with the second group of mercenaries and turned back to the computer. She did not care if her sister knew what she had discovered, but since Hailey was being secretive, perhaps Lauren should be too. She hurried to copy the files, so she could shut down the system before her sister drew close.

  • • • • •

  “Where have you been, Cap’n?” Tick drawled, shifting a few steps to the side so he could hide his lower half behind some leafy green beans vining up poles. He doubted anyone would intentionally look at his crotch, but he didn’t want any knowing smirks from the men, should Mandrake or someone else notice that he was dealing with a bean pole of his own. Talking to the captain and the others should result in that problem going away soon—nothing like a bunch of crude, lumbering men to kill the mood—though it was already on the way down, thanks to the frosty look Lauren had sent his way before turning back to the computer.

  She probably thought he’d been trying to get her into bed—or onto the floor of the cave. What had he been thinking with that kiss? He hadn’t had it in mind when he offered to give her a massage, but she had been surprisingly pliable beneath his hands, even leaning back into him, seeming to enjoy his touch, to perhaps want more of his touch. And all of the blood in his brain had rushed to his cock when he’d seen the outline of her pert nipples pressing against the thin material of her shirt. His reaction had been stupid, of course. Nipples got hard sometimes. That’s what they did. A cold day or a breeze could cause that. Yet he and his overly charged penis had been certain it was a sign that she wanted him, that she would want his touch all over her body, not just on her shoulders. And she’d smelled so good, that faint orange scent always lingering about her, mingling with the floral aroma of her shampoo. He’d wanted nothing more than to lean close, to taste her skin as he pressed his hard body against hers, pushing her against that console, wrapping his arms around her and thrusting into her—

  “Trapped,” Mandrake said. His eyes narrowed as he regarded Tick, then glanced at Lauren, the tense set of her shoulders, the way she ignored everyone and hastily went about her work.

  Dear Buddha, Mandrake didn’t think he’d been bothering her, did he? Tick didn’t know how much Mandrake would care if he did think that, but he wouldn’t want the captain believing he had Striker’s morals. And what if Lauren felt that Tick had been bothering her? Or at the least trying to manipulate her? Damn it, why hadn’t he just kept his hands to himself?

  “A black ship came down out of the clouds and started shooting at us,” Sergeant Hazel said, looking toward the cave exit. “Bigger than a combat shuttle, probably big enough to have engines and fuel for interplanetary travel. You didn’t see it, Tick?”

  “No, I can’t believe I didn’t hear the commotion,” he replied, pulling his gaze and his mind from Lauren—she was shutting down the computer and turning to talk to her sister. “We were delayed back at the shuttle, though.”

  “Our microbiologist didn’t want to come?” Hazel guessed, lowering her voice.

  “No. Yes. I mean, she was fine.” Kicking and screaming had not been involved, as Striker had predicted. “But Hemlock, Sparks, and Gavrikov disappeared out into the woods—apparently, Hemlock had seen someone out there, spying on the shuttles. We lost contact with them, and Striker went off to look.”

  Mandrake growled and stalked toward the cave entrance, tapping his comm-patch. “Ankari?”

  He walked outside, the waterfall drowning out the conversation.

  “So you had to run inside to escape being fired upon?” Tick asked Hazel.

  “Yes. There was no warning, no chance to bargain, nothing.” She flicked a piece of dirt off the barrel of her rifle. “Even after we ran in here, they tried to swoop down and shoot inside. We thought they were going to land and come in after us. The captain was preparing for a fight, but Keys found a command to open a door back there.” Hazel waved at the still-open slab of rock. “Since the ship was hovering instead of landing and dropping men, the fight wasn’t looking good for us. We lobbed a few grenades, but ground troops aren’t generally a match for a ship.”

  Tick nodded. He knew that well.

  “The captain wasn’t happy about the idea of being trapped back there and maybe having the ship collapse this cliff on top of us.” Hazel pointed toward the ceiling. “But Keys ran back there, and he must have figured we had no choice but to stick with her and keep her safe.” Her lips flattened with displeasure, probably a silent commentary on this mission thus far. “I thought there’d be a way out. I sure hoped there would be after the door closed behind us, leaving us in darkness. We walked through some tunnels, found some bedrooms and a giant seed storage area, but that’s about it. Keys kept looking, like she expected the underground facility to connect to something more interesting, but seeds were the highlight of our discovery, at least as far as I’m aware.”

  Based on what Lauren had been reading at the end of her computer investigation, Tick thought her sister might have discovered a little more than seeds, but he did not naysay Hazel.

  “The sky is clear of enemies, and they haven’t harassed our shuttles,” Mandrake said, walking back inside, lowering his hand from his comm-patch. “Dr. Keys, did you get a chance to study the computer files?”

  Mandrake’s gaze flicked toward Tick, a slight warning in his green eyes. Was he worried that he’d been up here distracting Lauren? The man saw too much for a mercenary. Or maybe Tick was simply feeling guilty, since he had been distracting her.

  Lauren glanced at her sister, who was frowning at her. “I perused them, Captain. This greenhouse is a mostly automated station for growing experimental varieties of edible plants, nothing more as far as I could tell.”

  Ms. Keys’ frown faded, and she relaxed an iota. She probably thought Lauren hadn’t found what she had been studying. Good, Tick supposed, but he hoped Lauren would share her suppositions with the captain. Otherwise, Tick would have to, and he wasn’t sure he really understood what she had been excited about—since it clearly hadn’t been him.

  “I could have guessed that,” Mandrake said.

  Lauren gazed blandly back at him.

  “Let’s move out,” Mandrake said, waving for the men to follow him.

  Tick was tempted to linger and walk with Lauren, but she might have had enough of him already. She did not nod to him or even look at him as they strode out of the cave. He decided to give her some space and, instead, walked next to the captain. Maybe he could find a moment later to apologize to her for… presuming.

  Mandrake set a rapid pace back toward the shuttles, almost running. Tick looked at his face, wondering if Ankari had delivered bad news. He almost tripped as a flash of insight came to him, this time a look into Mandrake’s thoughts. Ankari had been fine when she’d spoken to him, but Striker and the others hadn’t returned, and Jamie’s sensors had spotted another ship flying over the canyon, as if in a search pattern. Mandrake was worried that something would happen to them—to Ankari—before he returned to protect her. He seemed to believe his fear wasn’t that rational, since she could take care of herself, and the three combat shuttles were not helpless vessels adrift on a sea, but he still worried, feeling a fierce protectiveness toward Ankari. Protectiveness and love.

  Tick turned his head, trying to shift his focus toward the trees around them, on anything except reading his captain’s thoughts. They weren’t surprising—though he supposed a part of him never would have guessed Mandrake could feel something so intense as love—but it was like watching two people kiss, an intrusion on their intimacy. It made him uncomfortable. How come he couldn’t have had an insight into Ms. Keys’ mind instead? They would all be better off if they knew more about what she was thinking. Maybe he could try later to better direct his new—he hated to call them powers—abilities.

  A niggling sense came over Tick, making him look upward. There was nothing visible except the damp green canopy of leaves, but with his mind’s eye, he saw the black
ship Hazel had described. As Ankari had reported, it continued to fly back and forth over the canyon. The captain was heading for a clearing up ahead, and Tick envisioned him coming out from under the tree cover at the same time as the craft flew overhead. Amazingly, Tick hadn’t heard it yet. Was it possible they were turning their engines off as they glided over the canyon, then igniting them again before they lost velocity?

  A question for later. For now, he rushed forward, catching up with the captain just before he reached the clearing.

  “Wait, sir.” Tick grabbed his arm and held up a hand toward the soldiers behind them.

  Mandrake did not hesitate. He duplicated the stay-wait gesture, and everyone halted, sliding behind trees. Hazel pulled Ms. Keys behind one.

  A dark shape came into view before Mandrake could ask Tick what he was up to. The ship glided past silently, black wings outstretched, the shape of its body similar to that of the bats they had fought earlier. Tick did not recognize it as one of the mass-produced ships in the system, but there were plenty of custom jobs out there, and some people designed their own craft. Bounty hunters often wanted something special, sacrificing comforts for speed and weaponry. Perhaps in this case, for silence.

  Mandrake watched the ship sail past, his eyes hard. “If he’s still up there when we get back to the shuttles, we’ll blow him out of the sky.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tick said. “Sounds like a reasonable plan.”

  “In fact...” The captain tapped his comm-patch. “Frog? Thatcher? You two awake?”

  “Of course, sir,” came Thatcher’s indignant voice. “I’m reading the latest Journal of Interplanetary Astronautics and Flight.”

  “I’m reading Striker’s comics,” Frog said.

  “I couldn’t reach either of them earlier from inside the cave,” Mandrake explained to Tick. “Thatcher, you aware of the ship cruising around up here?”

  “Ms. Markovich spotted something on her sensors earlier,” Thatcher said, calling Ankari by her last name. “Our sensors aren’t reading anyone else out here now.”

  “Wonderful,” Mandrake grumbled. “Put some network research on your reading list, will you? I want to know what new sensor-shrouding tech is out there that’s thwarting our scanners, scanners that are only a year old. Find out if there’s an upgrade.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “But first, I want you and Frog in the air, weapons hot.”

  “Do you need something blown up, sir?” Frog asked, an excitement bordering on giddiness in his voice.

  “I want that black ship taken care of yesterday.”

  “Understood, sir,” Thatcher said calmly at the same time as Frog cackled like a witch from a Shakespeare play. “Frog understands also,” Thatcher translated.

  “I gathered.” Mandrake tapped the patch to end the conversation, then turned to the men. “Anyone with a grenade launcher is welcome to scoot out there and try to get a shot. Otherwise, we’ll wait to see if Frog and Thatcher can handle him.”

  A few men trotted ahead, but most people remained in place. Nobody had pulled Lauren behind a tree, and she was gazing uneasily up through a gap in the branches. Tick didn’t know if she had seen the ship and was worried, but he jogged back to stand next to her, forgetting his intention to avoid her for a while.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  She frowned slightly, but said, “Yes.”

  “The captain is sending our pilots up to deal with our stalker.”

  “Jamie too?” Lauren’s frown turned to an expression of alarm. “My lab...”

  “You’re more worried for your equipment than your friends?” he asked, more amused than affronted.

  “No, of course not. Well. There is expensive and valuable equipment in there. But Jamie isn’t a killer. She shouldn’t be sent off to hunt some assassin, or whoever that is up there.”

  “We don’t know yet. Apparently, the ship hasn’t been chatty with the captain. But no, he’s only sending Frog and Thatcher. They like blowing things up.”

  “A rare quality for a Mandrake Company mercenary.”

  “Indeed.”

  The first shriek of laser fire sounded somewhere above the canyon, and Tick touched Lauren’s arm and pointed toward a tree. The thick trunks wouldn’t stand up to a direct hit, but they ought to provide more cover than simply standing on the path.

  Lauren hesitated, but when a boom sounded, she allowed herself to be guided into the brush, leaning her back against the bark. Her hair had fallen from her bun when he had been rubbing her scalp, and it hung loosely about her shoulders now, framing her face. His gaze drifted to her lips, which were parted as she looked toward the canopy. Less than wholesome thoughts sauntered through his mind, and he shook his head, relieved that she couldn’t read minds. What a strange world it would be if everyone could. He thought of the emotions he’d glimpsed in Mandrake’s head, the realization that more than lust fueled his relationship with Ankari. Tick didn’t know yet if he felt more than that for Lauren, but if she let him close, he thought he could. He smiled slightly, imagining her wanting to read the “good bits” of some scientific article to a bed partner at night.

  “What are you smirking about?” Lauren sounded more irritated than intrigued. Her gaze darted skyward again as another boom sounded, this one directly overhead.

  “Nothing important. Sorry.” Tick glanced to the nearest trees to see if anyone was listening. Her sister was looking in their direction, but he didn’t think she was close enough to hear. “Ah, Lauren? I’m also sorry about the cave.”

  Her expression closed down, her lips pressing together. In disapproval? Probably. He didn’t get any flashes of insight as to her thoughts, but he didn’t need them in this case.

  “I didn’t mean to presume—I mean, I saw you rubbing your neck, and I wanted to make you feel more comfortable. That’s it.”

  One of her elegant eyebrows rose. “Did you also wish to make my earlobe feel more comfortable?”

  He tamped down a smirk that wanted to return—there was no humor on her face.

  “No, I was just… not overcome, exactly, but I had, uhm, feelings.” Penis feelings, to be exact. He sighed, annoyed with his inability to articulate himself. Hadn’t he been bragging to her that he was well read? Or at least that he read a lot of fiction? Those dystopian survival heroes never fumbled over their words when speaking to the heroines.

  “You had feelings or you expected that by doing a favor for me, I would return the favor by having coitus with you?”

  “No. I mean, I didn’t expect it. I confess that I’m attracted to you, and there’s always… hope.”

  “I see.”

  “All men have that hope. All the time. With lots of women. It’s separate from feelings. I mean not always, but it’s often, uh, independent of feelings.” Could he do a worse job of explaining himself? Maybe he should just glower around, occasionally grunting, like the captain. It had worked to get him Ankari. “Like when I signed up for your trial and dropped my drawers for the, ah, application. I didn’t expect you to be so overcome by your attraction for me that you’d want to have sex, but a man can’t help but hope.” Because he’d been so handsome standing in her lab with his trousers around his ankles.

  “Sergeant, I suggest you return to your captain. I’m sure he’s more in need of your services at this juncture than I am.”

  Tick did his best not to wilt when she called him sergeant. She’d used his name earlier, damn it. And not even his nickname. His real name. The way his family once had. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that, how much he wanted someone to be close to again.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he forced himself to say.

  He didn’t return to the captain, instead taking up a position at a nearby tree. Even if she didn’t want to be protected by him at that moment, that wouldn’t keep him from watching over her. The sound of laser fire screeched somewhere above their heads, and Lauren gripped the tree she stood behind, leaning close to it. Yes, he would watch over
her. And hope that one day, she would return to gripping him when she was scared.

  After another boom, the smell of smoke filled the air.

  “The other vessel is in retreat, Captain,” Thatcher’s voice drifted to Tick from Mandrake’s comm-patch. “Shall we pursue?”

  “Yes,” Mandrake said without hesitation. “Shoot him down if you can, then come pick us up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The sky grew quiet above them, Thatcher and Frog no doubt chasing down their foe. Mandrake waved for the company to gather around him, then continued through the jungle to the landing site. It took another twenty minutes of tramping through the dense undergrowth before the pink shuttle came into view, the hull undamaged.

  As Mandrake jogged up, the hatch lowered. Lauren picked up her pace, clearly eager to escape the wilderness and return to her lab. She probably wanted to escape Tick too. Maybe he should ask to ride in one of the other shuttles for the rest of the mission. No, then he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. To protect her. He would simply keep his distance. In a few days, after they returned to the Albatross, he could try to find a way to make amends. Or maybe he should give up on her and wait for the day when another single woman joined the mercenary company. Not that that happened very often. Most of the women who did looked like Sergeant Hazel or Private Sahara, all muscles with a tough-as-titanium-nails attitude. Besides, he had grown fond of the idea of sharing a bed with Lauren and reading the good bits of his novels to her in the evenings. And hearing about the good bits in science articles.

  Sighing, Tick walked to the shuttle ramp where the captain stood. He expected to be sent off to track down Hemlock and the others—he wouldn’t be surprised if Striker had managed to add himself to the docket of missing men by now.