Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

The bodyguard grinned and slipped inside. “Five minutes. So I’d eat fast if I was you, or you’ll be in for another lecture.”

  “Another lecture?” Stephanie asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “Don’t ask,” Elizabeth told her and applied herself to her mostly untouched plate. She took a large forkful and spoke as she chewed. “Let’s say it’s not an experience I want to repeat.”

  She nodded and realized she hadn’t eaten much, either—and that she’d not only have Lars to deal with but Vishlog as well. Honestly, the two of them were worse than any nurse. She looked at her own meal and picked her fork up.

  Her companion glanced at her and grinned.

  They had their plates cleared a couple of seconds before there was another knock at the door and the nurse bustled in. She was followed by Lars.

  “It’s time to get ready,” he told her, but she noticed the flick of his gaze as he checked her plate and barely resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. Elizabeth smirked but the expression vanished quickly and she edged forward on her chair.

  “You guys go on ahead,” she told them with a small grunt of pain. “This is gonna take a while.”

  Stephanie turned to go and ushered Lars before her. She looked back as she reached the door to see Ms E scowl against the pain as she started to stand. Lars took her arm and pulled her through gently.

  “You can’t do any more for her,” he said. “Wasn’t it you who explained that the body can only take so much magical healing in one go?”

  Defeated, she allowed him to tug her away.

  “It’s not fair,” she muttered and he clapped her on the shoulder.

  “You saved her life,” he reminded her. “She might not be fully healed, but this is as about as fair as it gets.”

  The Federation Navy hadn’t given up its interest in the Witch. While acquiring her was beyond them, the same could not be said for her blood. It was the subject of great interest in the halls of their R&D Centre.

  Lieutenant Commander Oliver Rasmussen and Professor Deckler O’Ryan walked down the hall from the cafeteria and neither of them raised the subjects they really wanted to speak about.

  “So, how are the kids?” Rasmussen asked and O’Ryan smiled.

  “Oh, you know, the same as usual. Raising all kinds of hell when they’re not causing trouble. And yours?”

  “I think they went to the same school of mischief-making. Did you know that when you stick soggy breakfast flakes made of corn to your face, they end up looking like pus crusted over a sore? And if you add the tiniest drop of food coloring—”

  His companion began to laugh. “Oh, he didn’t.”

  “He? Oh no, young Oliver is the well-behaved one. This was all Alexa. I didn’t even know she’d smuggled her breakfast out in her bag. She had the school shut down and her class isolated for four hours until someone noticed the skin under one of the scabs was perfectly fine.”

  He stared at him. “Dare I ask?”

  Rasmussen snorted. “The little devil thought it would be funny to peel the flakes off her face and eat them.”

  O’Ryan laughed again.

  “She was trying to gross her teacher out.”

  “And did it work?”

  “Let’s say her teacher wasn’t the only one who threw up.”

  Now, the other man roared with laughter, and his colleague regarded him with a sour look. “She’s been suspended for a week. Her mother isn’t impressed.”

  He mopped his eyes. “And how is the little lady?”

  “Not so little anymore. She’s due in a fortnight.”

  “Timing, huh?”

  “Alexa has it down pat. She still remembers what it was like when we brought Oliver home. She’s threatened all hell breaking loose if we present her with another brother.”

  “And is it?”

  “It’s twins. We’ll have a riot on our hands.”

  “Both boys?”

  “Oh, yes.” Rasmussen’s face was more than morose.

  “Definitely a riot,” O’Ryan agreed. They reached the doors leading to the secure section of the building and he opened them to let Rasmussen through.

  “Well, if you ever want to get away…”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  They both breathed a sigh of relief when the doors closed behind them and pulled their passes out from inside their shirts so they were visible. These, they swiped at the first set of barrier gates.

  Once they were past those, they reached a low barrier with a biometric scanner. One after the other, they placed their palms flat against the panels and passed through. The last checkpoint consisted of an airlock that allowed entry via their passes but required a retinal scan to release them. Once that was done and the internal doors had opened, they entered the research center itself.

  A young Naval officer hurried up to them.

  “The latest samples have arrived, sir,” he told them and excitement edged his voice.

  “And those are?” O’Ryan demanded.

  “Well, we have more from the Witch,” the officer told him. “Apparently, she didn’t get through that last battle completely unscathed, and we also have the work-up from Lachlan Hennessy”

  “Who?”

  “That kid in Australia, sir. The one who zapped a half-dozen of his classmates when they cornered him in the schoolyard. He was a great admirer of the Witch.”

  “Did we get him?”

  The officer shook his head. “No, sir. He received an offer from One R&D shortly afterward and grabbed it with both hands. Unfortunately, he turned our guys down flat.”

  “And the others?”

  The officer shook his head. “We’re still chasing leads,” he replied. “They’ve become real wary of our boys. To be honest, I think they’re all holding out for One R&D.”

  Rasmussen sighed and retrieved a tablet from one of the pigeonholes in the wall. “Well, they can’t wait forever,” he declared. “Sooner or later, we’ll have one of our own.”

  “Sooner,” O’Ryan agreed, “if we work out what the genetic markers are. Imagine what we could do if we could offer scholarships before they’d even started to show an aptitude. We’d have them bought and paid for before the thought of One R&D crossed their minds.”

  “If we’re competing against those guys, we need every damned cheat we can find to beat them to the punch,” the other man admitted. He glanced at the tablet and passed it to his colleague. “Every damned one.”

  O’Ryan took the machine and turned away. “See you in eight,” he said and gave an absent-minded wave as he looked at the screen.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The funeral was everything a farewell should be, and Stephanie learned more about Elizabeth’s second guard than she’d even known of her in life. Ms E’s voice trembled as she recounted their last meal together, Van Leeuwen at her side.

  They ended up at Porfiri’s after handing Tracy’s ashes to her parents. The official wake had been a somber affair, full of condolences and despair, and the family had retired early. As grateful as they’d been to Elizabeth for flying them all in, they had no real time for the stranger their daughter and sister had died to protect.

  Once the family had returned to their hotel for a more private wake, the One R&D team had headed downtown and dragged Matthias with them. Or, rather, refused to fight him over his right to accompany her where she needed to go.

  “Besides, I have to head back to the office for an hour, so it’s not like I’ll take up too much of her time.”

  This was met with some soft catcalls that quickly died under the woman’s glare. He had stayed long enough to share a drink with her after she was safely ensconced in a comfortable chair.

  “You fuss too much,” she whispered and he smiled.

  “Only this once,” he told her and she quirked her eyebrow at him.

  “Uh-huh. That’s how it always starts.”

  He raised one in return. “Oh, so now you decide something’s starting.”

&
nbsp; The alarm on his tablet began to beep and they both sighed. Elizabeth gave him a wry grin. “Not tonight, it isn’t.”

  “No, more’s the pity.” Matthias stood and stooped to kiss her lightly before he headed toward the door. “I’ll call you.”

  She raised her glass to him and waved. “Not tonight, you won’t.”

  His smile was rueful when he left.

  Stephanie let the door close behind him and gave it a slow count of five in case he returned. When he didn’t, she headed over to slide into the seat beside Ms E. Frog and Marcus were at the bar.

  They’d taken seats on either side of Amy and kept her glass full. Johnny sat in one corner, nursing a glass. His eyes strayed to the woman and his teammates and he raised a glass in their direction. They returned his salute before each of them drained their glasses and summoned the barkeeper for a refill.

  He looked at Stephanie and she nodded. Why he needed her permission, she didn’t know. She’d thought her instructions had been perfectly clear. The bar was to stay open and the food and drinks were to flow.

  It was simple.

  She scanned the bar and observed the state of her friends and teammates. If she was honest, none of them looked too good. Amy because she’d known Tracy the longest and they’d arrived at One R&D at the same time—and because she’d been Tracy’s boss and hadn’t been able to keep her safe.

  Stephanie understood that but she chose not to interfere. The boys kept her good company. Frog draped an arm around the woman’s shoulders and she rested her head on it. She clinked her glass to his and drained it, then straightened.

  He removed his arm and Marcus replaced it. Again, Amy rested her head on the arm, clinked her newly filled glass to his, and straightened. He removed his arm and leant on the bar instead.

  Lars leaned against the wall at the door and his gaze roved over the interior of the establishment. She noticed it touch lightly on each member of his team before it moved to where Vishlog occupied a corner with the cats leaned against his legs.

  Having made sure everyone else was all right, he looked at her. When he saw her watching him, he raised his glass in quiet salute and took a small sip. She raised her glass in return and glanced at Elizabeth.

  The corner of the woman’s mouth twitched, and she raised her glass to her lips and sipped cautiously. The nurse had been fairly strict in her instructions and the woman seemed to be doing her best to obey them. Her eyes were sad, though, and she leaned back in her chair and stared at nothing.

  Stephanie sighed. There really wasn’t anything left to say. Elizabeth had said everything at the funeral while she leaned on Matthias’s arm and looked as close to tears as she had ever seen her.

  Those tears had fallen at the graveside, and she’d remained dry-eyed ever since. It was the most emotional she had ever seen her, in fact. She was glad the commander had been around to support her through it. It would have been better if he’d been able to stay, but Ms E had seemed okay with him needing to work.

  She remained where she was to keep her company while the team comforted each other at the bar or sought their own comfort in whatever thoughts passed through their heads. Finally, Frog stood.

  “You know she would have kicked our asses, right?” he asked no one in particular.

  They all turned to look at him.

  “Yeah,” he continued when he saw he had their attention. “She’d have kicked our tails real good.”

  He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Look at us. A longer collection of faces you’ve never seen. Tracy liked to party when she wasn’t on duty and here we are, in a perfectly good bar with a perfectly good dance floor, getting totally skunked without busting a single move.”

  Without waiting for a response, he crossed to the jukebox against one wall and dropped a coin in, selected a single song, and turned to Amy. “Your turn. It is our duty to play her favorite songs and dance our asses off in her memory.”

  At first, she stared at him, but after only a moment’s hesitation, she slid off her stool and swayed toward the music box. She glowered at the machine, inserted her cred stick, and punched several buttons in succession. “Your music sucks,” she informed him. “Tracy would have hated it.”

  He gave her a drunken grin. “I know. I picked the song that would have pissed her off the most because I knew her ghost would pay attention. We have one night to get this right and then, she moves on. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

  Johnny drained his glass and slid off his stool. His path to the jukebox was anything but straight and Stephanie wondered how he expected to dance. It took him several attempts to press the button he aimed at but he managed it and joined Frog on the dance floor.

  Elizabeth and Stephanie turned to watch as the two guys began to groove to the music. They started off slow and gradually moved faster as their actions smoothed despite the amount of alcohol they’d consumed.

  Amy joined them and shimmied in close to Frog before she turned to pace her way around Johnny. Marcus went next and punched in his selection with focused coordination before he weaved his steps into the dance the other three were constructing.

  She watched them with a small smile and wondered which of their moves were borrowed from Tracy’s repertoire. Of course, she wouldn’t know. She hadn’t had a chance to dance with the girl.

  That thought led to an unexpected stab of regret and she glanced at Ms E. The woman sat and watched the team, a slight smile playing over her lips. She caught her companion’s look and the smile grew momentarily wider.

  “Tracy would have loved this,” she whispered. “That girl was forever teasing Frog about his choice of dance moves.”

  They continued to watch as, one by one, the team joined the dance. Lars went last and added a hard dubstep slide as he maneuvered onto the dance floor. Frog took up the challenge and they swung into a freestyle challenge that widened to include the others.

  Some of the belligerent by-play made Stephanie giggle, and Elizabeth snorted. “Tracy would have eaten those two alive,” she declared, and Lars and Frog turned toward them. “Uh oh. I think they’re lookin’ at you.”

  “Oh. Oh no, you didn’t,” Steph snarked as Lars dissed her with a hand gesture and a hip wiggle. Frog went one better and she sputtered into laughter and slid off her seat.

  “Excuse me,” she said to Elizabeth, “but that simply cannot go unanswered.”

  “Go get ʼem, girl.”

  Stephanie started with a shuffle and a body shimmy and brought in the arm moves to emphasize it. Amy whistled and came alongside her to mirror her movements in a direct challenge to the guys. They marked time and swayed from side to side until Steph had finished her challenge, and Lars stamped his foot and began his reply. The guys followed his every move.

  They had barely started when their tablets buzzed and the vibration rippled through the cloth of their casuals impossible to ignore. With soft curses, they stopped, breathing hard as they pulled their devices clear and read the single line. Return to HQ immediately.

  Elizabeth sighed and put hers on the table as they left the dance floor.

  “Isn’t it always the way?” Frog grumbled. He nudged Marcus. “Do you remember what happened at Ray’s wake?”

  His friend lowered his tablet and stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you brought that up.”

  He was unrepentant. “But it’s true. Not an hour in the ground and the drinking had only started and the bastards took another contract and hauled our asses back into the field.”

  “At least you got to the funeral,” Johnny muttered, and Lars glanced quickly in his direction. He continued, oblivious. “Sparks, Domino, and Stace…”

  His face started to crumple and the team leader was alongside him in an instant. “I got you, bro. We remember them.”

  His expression drawn, he draped an arm around the man’s shoulders and stumbled slightly when Johnny thumped him in the chest.

  “Yeah,” Lars continued. “We didn’t even get
a service for them, but I know where each and every one of them was left.”

  Was left? Stephanie turned toward them but he caught her look of concern and gave a firm shake of his head.

  He rapped his knuckles on Johnny’s chest, but his words were more for her benefit than his friend’s. “That was a bad fight, and the one that followed was worse.”

  She was curious but she didn’t push it. Instead, she resumed her seat beside Elizabeth. “What is it, Ms E?”

  “Burt says the Navy has the location for the people behind the attack.”

  The guys lifted their heads and Vishlog loomed behind them.

  “Vengeance,” he rumbled, and they murmured in soft, fierce approval. “Vengeance.”

  “Justice,” Stephanie echoed and blue fire arced over her hands. She pushed it out in jagged branches of flame and it leapt from one team member to the next, coiled around each of them, and flared briefly.

  “Oh, no fair!” Frog wailed seconds later. “I worked hard for that hangover.”

  “I can reinstall it in the morning,” she offered, and he raised his hands.

  “No thanks. I’m all good. Besides, I don’t need to be hungover when I’m recovering from getting shot.”

  Johnny shrugged the team leader’s arm from his shoulders. “Who says you’re gonna get shot?” he challenged.

  “I always get shot,” he retorted, and the team laughed.

  They stopped laughing when they heard Ms E raise her voice. “Don’t go there, Steph. Don’t you dare.”

  “This is the only way,” the girl replied, her voice deep and cold, and the team held its breath.

  “Stephanie has left the building,” Frog murmured and Lars had only one response.

  “Goddammit.”

  Frog snickered. “She’s heeeeere...”

  “Shut it, Frog.”

  They both turned to where the Morgana stared at Ms E.

  Elizabeth was on her feet, completely unperturbed by the closeness of the dark-eyed stare. She was too busy stabbing her forefinger into the girl’s chest. “You know I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” she shouted and the team had never seen her so worked up. They watched as she tapped the other woman’s chest again, breathing hard and trying to put her outrage into words. “All I asked was that you—”