Mack 'n' Me: The Wolves of Alpha 9

by C. M. Simpson

  4—A Lady is...

  Two days later, we were met by a small squad of armed guards, at the top of the beanstalk linking the small city above Carafakt Gorge to the orbital overhead. Mack squeezed the arm I’d tucked through his elbow tight against his side, and laid his hand over mine. I think he was trying to warn me not to laugh.

  That was hard, but the tension in his fingers made it easier.

  Sure thing, big man, I thought, resisting the urge to kick him in the shin.

  “You don’t behave, and I’ll toss you over the Gorge, myself,” he said—in my implant, where our waiting escort couldn’t hear. “Now, smile, and pretend you’re a lady.”

  Now, I really did want to kick him. I’d never been mistaken for a lady in my life.

  Tens snorted, his voice coming through loud and clear in my head. “So, why start now?”

  “Tens!”

  Well, at least I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t impressed. Mack sounded pretty irate. Tens cut the link, still snickering.

  “Don’t make me come up there.”

  “You don’t have the time, boss. They’re getting impatient.”

  He was right. The man standing at the front of the rest of the squad, had cleared his throat, and taken a step forward, his foot resting on the other end of the umbilical connected to the station. Mack made a show of running his fingers over the front of his very smart, very austere captain’s uniform, and I wondered when any captain had worn a light layer of armor to a formal dinner...or dressed like he was going to war, instead of a social occasion.

  “You’d be surprised,” Mack murmured, but his mouth was still, and his eyes were roving over the waiting guards. “These boys might look pretty, but they’re tooled to the hilt, and they’ve been in fights, before. Don’t start anything.”

  I think he meant ‘Please, don’t start anything’, but I didn’t push it. I figured I wouldn’t start anything, but if someone else got the ball rolling, then I would sure as shit finish it.

  “Just don’t be the instigator.”

  Damn. Man knew me far too well.

  We headed down through the umbilical, with me doing my very best not to think about just how close the vacuum was. I’d gotten my fear of airlocks down to a controllable level, but it had morphed into a nagging anxiety whenever vacuum was in touching distance, and I hadn’t worked out how to fix it, yet.

  Mack patted my hand.

  “You’ll get it,” he said, and I knew he meant overcoming the fear, and not anything else.

  It wasn’t a comment I wanted to answer, but I really hoped he was right, because I had my doubts.

  “And we’re on,” he said, sending the quiet reminder through my implant that he wasn’t the only one present.

  I raised my head, doing my best to look—how had Case put it—aloof and mysterious... “or at least like you’re bored out of your skull.”

  I liked Case. Aloof, I could do; mysterious? Not so much. Bored? Well, I’d specialized in that at high school—and didn’t that seem like a lifetime away?

  “You also need to look like that man is the center of your universe,” Case had told me, indicating Mack, “and not to move like you’re a combat operative looking for a fight.”

  That last one wasn’t going to be easy, but—man!—Case had packed a hell of a lot of training into the forty-eight hours we’d had. She’d also lined up the files I needed on Barangail, and fed them into my implant so they played when I slept.

  I hadn’t slept very well.

  Barangail was a friend of Case and Step’s target. The planet was a feudal basket case, and we were heading right down into the middle of a world where slavery and indentured servitude were a way of life. I wondered just how many of the natives would ask for a ticket off this place, and worried how either Mack and I were going to handle having to leave so many folk behind in such a very bad place.

  “It won’t be for much longer,” Case had told me. “Who’d you think paid for the hit?”

  And they’d pay with an artefact. It made me hope we weren’t about to go stealing their nest egg. Mack didn’t respond to that thought, either, and I wondered if it bothered him.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” was not a comforting thought, but it was followed by a much more vocalized, “Captain Targil, thank you for coming to meet us.”

  Which was not what he’d said when he’d heard Barangail was sending an escort. As a matter of fact, it was about as far from ‘Well, that’s a pain in the ass,’ and ‘What the fuck does he think we need a babysitter for,’ as you could get. Again, he squeezed my elbow against his side, so I looked up, giving Targil my best blank stare, followed by the merest hint of a smile. Having caught the captain’s eye, I tilted my chin to look up at Mack, and let my smile widen.

  This time it was Case who commented.

  “Way to give a guy the wrong impression,” she said.

  I’d forgotten she was watching on the security scans.

  “Thanks, Case,” I told her, and my mind-tone sounded anything but grateful.

  “Don’t get me wrong, kid. that was a classic Bored-Lady-of-the-House look. The man is going to keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t go and seduce any of his men, and he’s not going to let you anywhere near himself. Good work.”

  Oh, well, that put a different light on things.

  Cool.

  “You are trouble on a stick.” As usual, Mack was not impressed.

  He was right, though; I was trouble on a stick. Targil hadn’t noticed the exchange, or anything that might indicate we weren’t paying him as much attention as we should. Or he had, and it either didn’t bother him, or he wasn’t letting it show.

  “You are most welcome, Captain Star. Lord Barangail wished to make sure you reached his home safely.”

  Mack stopped, arching an eyebrow, turning his attention on the man—and completely ignoring we were at the edge of the umbilical, two steps onto the concourse with the ship and open space behind us. Captain Targil frowned, but Mack ignored his discomfort.

  “Is there any reason why we would not?” he asked, and the captain blushed, as though he’d been caught in a blunder he now had to dig himself out of.

  “Oh, no, sir,” he replied. “His lordship just wished to ensure you did not get lost when you traversed the city. He decided to send a transport.”

  “Really? He didn’t mention the need. We were going to take something more local.”

  The color subsided from the captain’s face.

  “We understand, sir. Lord Barangail sends his apologies. He has canceled your booking, and asks that you take no offence at his precautions.”

  This time, Mack stopped.

  “Precautions?” he asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

  Captain Targil looked at him, only just appearing to notice the cut of his uniform, the number of weapons he carried, and the experience written on his face. He assessed Mack with a quick sweep of his eyes, and then turned his gaze on me. I managed a slightly uncertain smile, coupled to an anxious look at Mack, and a slight shift closer to his side.

  “Oh, beautiful!” Casey breathed. “That’s got him.”

  And it had. The captain took in my reaction, and turned right back to Mack. I did not miss the moment, when he decided I wasn’t any kind of threat, and had to suppress a grin.

  “Don’t you dare!” came through the implant, and I managed to let my anxiety fade into the blank look I’d adopted at the start.

  The captain didn’t spare me another glance, but hastened to reassure Mack.

  “There were rumors of unrest, just before your arrival,” he said. “We thought it better to ensure your security than gain your permission. Please forgive our presumption.”

  And if that man was looking for forgiveness, I was hoping to be dressed in pink lace and fed on candy for the rest of my life. Mack gave me a startled glance, and then smoothed the expression from his face, as he looked back at the captain.

  �
�It can be arranged,” echoed through my head, accompanied by the sputtered laughter of those watching in the comms center.

  Smart ass!

  But he ignored me, focusing solely on the captain, as though I was little more than a bauble decorating his arm. It would have made me angry, if I hadn’t been able to feel how satisfied he was for my abilities to be kept secret. It was good, apparently, to have ‘an ace in the hole’, whatever that meant.

  “Unrest?” Mack asked, and lifted the hand from my fingers, so he could let it drift towards the blaster at his hip.

  The captain hastened to reassure him.

  “Not here,” he said, “and not now, but we didn’t want to risk a disruption to your evening.”

  Or his negotiations, I thought, but didn’t say.

  Tension ran briefly along Mack’s forearm, and then he relaxed, and continued moving along the umbilical. I wanted to tease him with the fact I could actually behave, but thought better of it, concentrating, instead, on walking like a lady. These dresses were harder to move in than it looked—and to make that movement look like I’d been born to glide with all the grace of a cruiser slipping through space... Well, that took a bit.

  “You’re doing fine,” came Case’s reassurance. “More than fine.”

  I couldn’t help but think that, after the hours of incentive abuse she’d heaped on my head, I’d darned well better. The Stars knew what she’d do if I mucked it up, now. There was no reply, and we moved off the concourse beside the ship’s docking bay, and further into the station.

  The trip down the beanstalk was swift, and far too similar to being in an airlock for comfort. I was fine, until the elevator’s doors closed behind me, not quite able to suppress a small gasp as I came to a sudden halt.

  “Keep it together,” Case snapped, her voice cracking through the shock, and Mack took my hand with his free one, unlooping his arm from mine to wrap it around my waist.

  “She’s not very good with heights,” he explained to the captain.

  And, before I could react to that, Mack had scooped me into his arms and stepped all the way into car.

  “Where should we sit?” he asked, as I recalled the fact I was wearing the latest pair of combat boots, and made sure to keep my feet tucked under the folds of the dress.

  My sudden movement must have reminded Mack that I wasn’t exactly kitted out as a lady under the dress, and he met the captain’s gaze.

  “Where?”

  The man gestured towards a seat in the center of the car, and Mack carried me over to it, setting me down, buckling me in, and then taking his place beside me. As soon as he was settled, he tucked his arm around me, and drew me close to his side.

  “It’s okay, sweetling,” he said. “We’ll be on the ground, soon.”

  The inside of my skull roared with laughter, and I had to duck my head to hide the expression on my face.

  Sweetling? I mean, when the fuck had he ever called me that?

  And I swear I heard Tens fall out of his chair, again. As for Case, she was laughing so hard she was crying. Mack leant over me, cradling my head against his chest—and it wasn’t because I was frightened.

  “You let me know when you’ve got your face back under control,” he said, and he sounded like he was having a hell of a time keeping his own laughter at bay.

  “I’m going to kick your ass, first chance I get,” I told him, glad, for once, the implant was somewhere we could speak in semi-privacy.

  He ignored that, and, when he spoke, again, it was to the captain of the guard.

  “She’ll be fine as soon as we’re on the ground,” he reassured the man, and I resisted the urge to try and put the ribs closest me through the other side of his chest.

  “Play nice,” he said, inside my skull.

  “I think she deserves another set of boots,” Casey suggested, and Tens begged her to stop.

  Damn! If I hadn’t seen him laugh that hard, before, I’d have sworn he was in pain.

  5—...As a Lady Does

  I spent the trip down the beanstalk with my eyes closed, and my hand gripping Mack’s so hard my knuckles were white. It wasn’t the height, so much—although that didn’t help—but looking out at the stars with even less than an airlock between us was having a much worse effect on me than I’d thought.

  I’d been down beanstalks before—okay, I’d been down one beanstalk, before—and it hadn’t bothered me. Maybe it was the height combined with the airlock-tight confines of the car, since this was the first stalk I’d gone down since jumping off way too many high places, while relying on Tens to teleport me back home.

  And wasn’t that the funniest thing. The Shady Marie being home. I didn’t think I’d ever really had one of those before. Not one I wanted to come back to. The car slowed, coming to a halt, but it was Mack’s voice in my ear that made me open my eyes.

  “We’re here.”

  He used his other hand to peel my grip loose of the one I’d been holding, and then tucked my arm through his, pulling me to my feet when he stood. I might have protested at that, but I was a lot shakier than I’d realized. Made me wish I didn’t have to go back up the same way.

  “You’d rather have to leap over a cliff and have Tens catch you, again?” Mack teased, in the privacy of our heads.

  “At least, I’m used to that,” I snapped back, and I’m sure my feelings showed on my face.

  Targil’s expression shifted from welcoming to concerned.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, but his eyes were on Mack, and not on me.

  I’d have been annoyed if that hadn’t been the effect we’d been working for.

  “She doesn’t travel well,” Mack said, and Targil looked even more concerned.

  I glared at my erstwhile captain and supposed partner, and he gave me a sharp look of reprimand. It reminded me of my role, and I looked away and down, moving my expression from angry to anxious, like a lap dog that had been kicked.

  “Nice work,” Case murmured, as Mack moved to reassure the captain.

  “Anything with heights that doesn’t involve a luxury cabin blocking out the stars,” he amended. “I’m glad you brought ground transport. What is it? A skimmer?”

  The captain relaxed.

  “Oh, no. A shuttle.” His anxiety returned. “I hope the lady...”

  “She’s fine with shuttles.” Mack hastened to reassure him. “As long as they stay close to the ground.”

  “This one will be travelling at street level,” the captain assured us. “Shall we?” And he led the way from the umbilical.

  His men had already headed out, and were set up like an honor guard outside the elevator—or so it seemed at first glance. When I looked, again, I noticed that not all of his men were set up like that. Some were scattered throughout the ground floor, and they weren’t alone.

  There was another half dozen, wearing the same uniform, positioned by the doors, and on the pavement beyond. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said they were securing a perimeter.

  “My thoughts, exactly,” Mack agreed, and I found it easy to lay my free hand over his forearm and turn an anxious look towards him. It was better than surveying the area myself, and looking like I knew what I was seeing.

  Mack did that for me, turning his head, and feeding the visuals direct from his implant to mine. Well, that made it easy to keep a blank face. I took a moment to study the input, knowing he’d guide me forward while I lost contact with the world outside the implant.

  Even so, I missed the small group of shooters that opened fire as soon as we were midway between the beanstalk concourse and the waiting shuttles. Barangail’s were big, black monstrosities, polished to within an inch of their lives, autocannons mounted on swivel turrets close to the mid-point on either side.

  “Time to be the lady,” Mack said, inside my head, and I sighed.

  It was like coming in for a hard landing, because the first shooter opened fire from the corner of the concourse as I got back to the real.
Several of the lord’s guard went down, and I was glad Mack was wearing his armor. He pulled me behind him, even as the captain bolted for the central shuttle, shouting for them to open up and warm up.

  The household escort returned fire, and then a second shooter opened up from the other corner.

  So much for these boys securing the perimeter.

  I caught sight of the shooter, and decided the boys hadn’t really stood a chance. It also gave me an idea of just how well funded the enemy was. I hadn’t seen a blend suit used in any of the major encounters I’d had on the Shady Marie. Not when we were going up against the arach, or even when we were working with a reclusive lord’s private forces.

  I’d only ever heard of them being used by solo operatives like myself—and I didn’t have one. I watched as the shooter melded out of the concourse wall, and took out the three guards closest, and then blended back in, again, only to reappear three meters from their first position and take out another two. One of those suckers would come in really handy.

  “I’ll buy you one for your birthday,” Mack said, doing the possessive brute thing and dragging me in front so he could lift me off my feet.

  At least this time he remembered to tuck my skirts around me so my feet and legs didn’t stick out—or not for long, anyway. I hoped Targil and his men had other things they needed to focus on, because I was pretty sure the armored leggings I was wearing under my dress were even more unladylike than the dressed up combat boots I had on my feet.

  The boots kind of looked like something a fashion-conscious lady who needed to do a lot of short-notice running might wear. I wasn’t so sure about the leggings. I was also not sure about the armored corset under the bodice, although Case said that would pass inspection much more easily.

  When a third blend-suited shooter popped out from between the lead shuttle and the one we were running for, I could only hope she was right. There was no way I was going to be able to pretend that shooter had missed. If Mack hadn’t had my arms trapped, our cover would have been well and truly blown.

  I tried to reach for the blaster he’d refused to let me carry, and couldn’t.