The Major's Mission: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel) (Lords of Zanthar Book 2)

Home > Other > The Major's Mission: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel) (Lords of Zanthar Book 2) > Page 16
The Major's Mission: (An Alpha Alien Romance Novel) (Lords of Zanthar Book 2) Page 16

by Liza Probz


  Then the white poof was hurrying up the bars again, intent on doing the same to Jennifer’s cage.

  She jumped when the creature appeared. “Ontarii, what is that?”

  “Just be calm, Jennifer, and stay ready. We’re getting out of here.”

  He watched as she steeled herself, stepping closer to the cell door. The creature again inserted its tail, now taken on the characteristics of its original form, into the lock. The door of Jennifer’s cell clicked open.

  “Stand next to the door but don’t open it yet,” Ontarii said to her, keeping his voice as quiet as he could. “Be ready to move when I move.”

  Jennifer took up position while the white puffball made its way back down to Ontarii.

  “Here we go,” it squeaked, then scurried out of the cage and onto the floor in front of it. Suddenly the poof was gone. In its place was what resembled a mirror. Ontarii could see himself, as the mirror grew, spreading out to become a flat surface only an inch or so thick but growing taller by the moment. When it had stretched itself high enough to cover the door to both cages, it began to faintly vibrate.

  That must be the signal. It’s now or never.

  “Let’s go,” he said to Jennifer, opening his cell door far enough to squeeze through. The Hareema had clearly made itself reflective to hide them from whoever was performing surveillance on the prison. Ontarii moved as close as he could to the creature and then looked up.

  Jennifer had pushed open her cell but stood there.

  “How am I supposed to get down?” she asked him.

  At that moment, a small piece of the reflective surface extended itself to make a platform for Jennifer to stand on. She took a hesitant step, seeming to make sure it would support her weight. When it did she put both feet on the platform.

  Like some sort of living elevator, the platform lowered itself until Jennifer was able to hop down to stand beside him on the floor. She gave Ontarii a smile.

  Even though they were in the middle of a dangerous escape, he couldn’t help himself. Ontarii gathered her into his arms and planted a scorching kiss on her lips.

  Jennifer looked surprised at first but she soon folded her arms around his neck and surrendered to his mouth.

  He put all of his pent-up passion and fear and need into the kiss. When at last he pulled away, his mate was breathless and flushed.

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  The Hareema was vibrating agitatedly, obviously wanting them to get a move on. Ontarii put an arm around the human female, keeping her close to him. The reflective surface started to bend itself around them, covering them on all sides.

  Soon they found themselves in a bubble of silver. The silver turned opaque on the inside, and they could now see out. But on the outside, Ontarii was sure, it would remain reflective, fooling the watchers while allowing them to travel through the chamber without notice.

  The bubble started forward and Ontarii and Jennifer kept up pace, walking forward as it sheltered them. Ontarii wondered if the other inhabitants would notice anything amiss. No one seemed to cause an uproar, so it seemed they might get away after all.

  Thinking about the other prisoners reminded Ontarii of the Minister of Defense who was being held in the same chamber.

  “Wait,” he whispered, halting immediately.

  The bubble vibrated, clearly upset at his pause.

  “We can’t leave without Drake. I won’t let him remain in the Hareema’s clutches while I go free.”

  The vibrations increased in intensity. It wasn’t something his helper agreed with.

  “I mean it,” he said. “I won’t go a step further if you don’t rescue Drake. We can all die here, or you can help me bring out the Minister of Defense alive.”

  Finally, the reluctant bubble gave in. It started rolling in the direction of Drake’s cell. When they appeared in front of him, Ontarii noticed the Minister of Defense was in the same position as hours before, his head drooped down until his chin almost rested on his chest.

  The Hareema rolled right up to the edge of the cage and extended a thin piece of itself to insert into the lock. It clicked open, and Drake’s head snapped up at the noise.

  “Who’s there?” he demanded loudly, his tone confrontational.

  The Hareema bubble folded in on itself to create a slight opening, exposing Jennifer and Ontarii so that Drake could see them.

  “Minister, we have no time. You must come with us.”

  Drake’s eyes widened, then he scowled, shaking his head. “This is another enemy trick, and I won’t be toyed with.”

  He slumped back down in his cell, paying no more attention to the spectacle in front of him.

  “Minister, this is no trick. I am Major Ontarii, and this is the human ship captain, Jennifer Brooklyn. We were captured by Hareema and are making our escape with the help of their rebel forces.”

  “Rebel forces,” Drake muttered. “Now I know you’re lying. There is no Hareema rebellion. They are a united front, but you would know that. You are one of them.”

  “You’re wrong,” Ontarii said. They were running out of time, and he couldn’t get involved in a lengthy debate. How could he convince Drake that he was who he said he was?

  Jennifer tapped him on the arm.

  “Do the thing,” she said. “The electric thing.”

  Of course! Quickly Ontarii built a charge of bioelectricity and then held out his hand. Aiming at the captive minister he sent out a short but strong jolt.

  The energy zapped the minister and he fell backward. Drake immediately sprang up, his eyes clearer than they had been before.

  “You’re not lying,” he growled. “You are Zantharian.”

  Ontarii nodded. The Hareema could not create actual bioelectricity for themselves, only the illusion of it. Drake knew that.

  “Why have you gone black and how long has it been since it happened?” Drake asked, concern brushing across his strong features.

  “It’s been a day or so, and don’t ask. It’s none of your damned business,” Ontarii barked.

  The minister nodded and moved forward, stepping into the bubble beside them. It quickly sealed them all in and began moving forward towards the exit.

  It wasn’t too long before the huge door loomed before them. The Hareema again put forth an extension to unlock the lock, and the door creaked open. The bubble rolled through, coming to a stop right inside the door while it closed behind them.

  It flattened out again, creating a solid sheet over the door and the small window above it. Apparently they were in the area used for surveillance. Now that it had gotten them out, it seemed it needed to cover their retreat.

  Ontarii grabbed Jennifer’s hand and cocked his head to Drake. “Come on. We need to make our way to the docking bay.”

  Drake frowned. “Aren’t we going to be stopped the moment someone spots us?”

  The minister had a point. They were winging this escape. There had been no time to perfect a plan.

  “We know Hareema take other forms when they are walking around, doing their business. Let’s hope they will assume we are one of them, doing the same.”

  “And if they don’t buy it?” Drake sounded beyond skeptical.

  His mate put her hand on his arm and piped up, “Then we fight like hell and get as far as we can.”

  Drake’s face cracked into something almost resembling a smile. “Agreed.”

  Chapter 29

  Brook kept her head on a swivel as they made their way down the corridor. She quickly realized her actions would make her look even more suspicious, so she tried to act nonchalant. It was hard to pretend she wasn’t afraid when her heart was beating a mile a minute.

  Stay calm, she told herself. We can do this. It’s the only chance we’ve got.

  Brook had been beyond surprised when their tiny rescuer had shown up in her cell. And now they were on their own, following the yellow line as instructed and hoping to find the docking bay.

  Suddenly a creature came aro
und the corner. Brook had to try really hard not to recoil. The smell was the main thing that had her reeling. The closest thing she could equate it to was a clogged sink. The beast was big, the color yellow with darker spots, and had barbed spines running down its curved back. Its skin looked moist, like a dripping sponge, but the smell… God, the smell!

  It seemed to pay them no attention. The beast gave them a once-over and kept walking.

  When it disappeared out of sight behind them, Brook breathed a sigh of relief. But their reprieve was short-lived. They followed the yellow line as it led around another corner and there stood three creatures, perhaps the most horrifying she’d seen.

  They all had the shape of a human. The same human. Danner Thompson, the head of NASA.

  Three sets of identical eyes turned towards them. The one closest stepped forward. He had a clipboard in his hand. “Where are you going? And why have you taken those shapes?”

  “The docking bay,” Ontarii barked. “And because we were ordered to.”

  Clipboard Danner looked down at his list, his pen tapping against the sheet. “I don’t see any orders for two Zantharians and a human. Aren’t these the forms of our prisoners?”

  The two other Danners drew closer. One pulled a long, thin stick about two inches in diameter from his back pocket. Brook wasn’t sure what it was, but it gave her a bad feeling.

  “Orders just came through. You probably don’t have the latest version.”

  The Danner with the stick hit a button and the end started to glow. Definitely a weapon.

  “We’re to take the prisoner to the home world for interrogation,” Ontarii said swiftly.

  “Prisoner? You’re all prisoners,” Danner #3 said, his tone harsh.

  “This is the Minister of Defense of Zanthar,” Ontarii said, his voice like steel. “We are the escort. Now get the hell out of our way!”

  “That doesn’t explain your shapes.”

  “Doesn’t it?” Ontarii snarled. “We’ve been mounting a campaign of psychological warfare against the minister for weeks now. Unfortunately, he hasn’t cracked. He’s just become more distrustful and apathetic.”

  Drake chimed in. “Can I go back to my cell? I don’t know what game you Hareema bastards are playing, but count me out.”

  Clipboard Danner scowled. “You expect us to believe you’re escorting this prisoner to the home world for interrogation, and he’s not even in restraints?”

  Ontarii got close to the shorter man, leaning in and using all his muscle mass to intimidate him. “Why bother with restraints? He’s so far gone he doesn’t even know where he is or who he’s with. We’ve scrambled his brains good. He’s not going to run.”

  “I’m hungry,” Drake said, sliding into a crouch. “Let me get more of that fish paste stuff. It’s not half bad.”

  “See what I mean?” Ontarii jerked his head in Drake’s direction. “He’s not going to fight us. But if you don’t let us pass, you will be hurt. Not by me, but by the High Council when they find out you were the one to hold him up.”

  Clipboard Danner swallowed. Danner #2 looked at Danner #3 who nodded his head. Danner #2 clicked off his stick and stuffed it back in his pocket.

  “I’ll make a note on my order roster, then get an update from HQ to make sure it’s up to date. Go ahead and proceed. Give the High Council my regards.” Clipboard Danner started scribbling on his list, ignoring them.

  “I’ll tell the High Council what a sniveling little toad you are,” Ontarii muttered, grabbing Drake’s arm and dragging him down the hallway.

  Brook jogged to catch up, finally letting go of the breath she’d been holding.

  A few more twists and turns and the yellow line led them out into a chamber twice the size of the room holding the prison cells. The docking bay was enormous, and there were ships of every color, size, and shape. How would they locate the Zantharian shuttle?

  “We could fan out,” she suggested, “look for the shuttle separately then meet up again.”

  “Too risky,” Ontarii said, turning to look around. “We’ve got to stick to the story we’ve concocted. Let’s start moving down the rows and hope we discover the shuttle before they figure out we’re not who we say we are.”

  Ontarii led them as they started making their way through the rows of spaceships. As varied as the ships were, so were the shapes taken by the Hareema. There were a few in their natural state, towering blocks of jelly, here and there, but most had taken the shapes of other creatures.

  Brook ignored them and concentrated on the ships. Then she realized she had no idea what they were looking for.

  “What’s your craft look like?” she asked.

  “If it’s our run-of-the-mill Class B shuttle, it will be a little larger than the vessel that brought us here. It’s aqua blue, with fins on the top and along the sides to use for steering. I suppose it resembles a large, spiny fish.”

  Ontarii’s description was helpful, and Brook started scanning the rows for a bit of aqua blue.

  “There!” Drake said, pointing down a row. “I saw a fin poking out from behind that Cerrelian cruiser.”

  The trio headed in the direction Drake suggested, and soon she saw it. It did resemble a spiny fish of sorts, and the color reminded her of the Mediterranean Sea.

  “How are we going to get aboard?” she asked.

  They’d reached the hatch that served as the ship’s entrance and she realized then that there was no entry panel for inputting a code.

  “Like this.” Drake held out a finger, emitting a tiny bolt of electricity, right at the seam of the door. The metal drew back, exposing the dark, empty cavity of the interior.

  “In you go.” Ontarii pushed her forward.

  As she stumbled into the main cabin, the lights began flashing on around her. Ontarii and Drake followed after her, and Drake sealed the door behind them.

  Brook hung back as the males went to work. They waved hands over consoles that popped up holographic displays. She marveled at how advanced their technology was compared to Earth’s own.

  No wonder they located and boarded my ship with no problems.

  “According to the scan, we’re in sector XJ-3. I’ve input coordinates for a small moon not far beyond this station. I can’t put in coordinates for their bloody home world because I don’t know where it is.” Drake’s voice was strained.

  “Let’s hope no one questions it,” Ontarii replied. “I’m going on manual navigation until we clear the chamber. Have scans found an exit yet?”

  “Yes. I’m sending the information to your console now.”

  Brook seated herself on the bench that ran along one of the walls and watched. It would be no easy task, smuggling them out of Hareema hands and back into space. Would they make it to Zanthar? Or would the Hareema find them out and come after them?

  Ontarii proved to be a deft pilot, and the small ship gracefully sailed over the other ships and the creatures below.

  Drake brought up the main view screen and Brook watched as they approached the exit.

  “It’s not open,” Ontarii growled. “How are we supposed to get out?”

  “It will open,” Drake said, his voice rough but full of certainty. “It has to open.”

  “Well, the trip might end before it begins, if we crash into that hatch.”

  “I’m giving you an order, Major,” Drake barked. “Head straight for the hatch. It will open.”

  Ontarii nodded and they pushed forward.

  Brook closed her eyes, not wanting to see her own death when it came for her.

  Nothing happened. There was no crash, and the ship sailed smoothly onward.

  “See, Major,” Drake said, his voice sounding cheerful for the first time since she’d met him. “Have a little faith, for Noruma’s sake.”

  Ontarii laughed, then his face became serious again. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

  “Can we get a view behind us?” Brook asked. She wanted to see where she’d been kept.

>   The station was massive, made of a dark material that didn’t reflect the light from the stars around it. Instead, it was almost like a shadow in space. Several ships moved around it, looking toy-sized compared to the gigantic station.

  All of a sudden lights began to flash around the station. Bright red lights.

  “They’ve raised an alarm of some kind.” Brook’s heart jumped into her throat.

  “It could be something else,” Drake said.

  Ontarii frowned. “Or it could be that they’ve found our cells empty. That doesn’t change anything yet. Let’s make tracks.”

  “Course laid in.” Drake glanced at the major.

  “Let’s go.” Ontarii made a few taps on his display and Brook felt the craft put on a burst of speed. The crew of three spent a tense hour watching all displays and scans for any sign of the enemy coming after them.

  They reached the moon that Drake had input as their original destination, and no one had come after them.

  “Let’s hope it’s safe to put in our actual course,” Ontarii said, punching in the coordinates to his home planet. “We’ve got about four hours until we reach Zanthar.”

  It was almost anticlimactic, their escape, in hindsight. Brook was still a bundle of nerves, sure that at any moment they would be intercepted. She shot a look at her companions.

  Drake’s face was closed, too hard to read.

  Ontarii’s expression was another story. There was so much there, she wasn’t sure she could untangle all of his feelings.

  I wish his skin was back to normal, she thought. At least then I’d have a clue about his moods.

  The thought made her feel guilty. Ontarii was still undergoing the frenzy, his skin still midnight black, and she was at least partially to blame. She shouldn’t be so insensitive, even in her own thoughts.

  “I think if they were coming after us, they would have already done it.” Drake’s gruff voice broke the spell she was in.

 

‹ Prev