Return to Duty

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Return to Duty Page 13

by Elizabeth Hollows


  Shifting into a sitting position, Jay was shoulder-to-shoulder with the man. They brushed against each other before Tristan stood and grabbed his clothes. “I won’t take long in the portable showers.”

  Tristan was about to move away, but Jay shifted and touched Tristan’s leg before he could go far. “Hey.”

  Tristan turned and Jay stood. They were face-to-face and Jay didn’t waste time. He leaned in and kissed Tristan, who instantly responded. Tristan’s palm rested against Jay’s chest as their lips caressed. The kiss was slow and deep, but it didn’t last long enough. When they pulled back, their eyes locked. There were a thousand unspoken words lingering in the air. Jay hadn’t meant to grow attached but he had come to care far too deeply for his mission partner.

  “I’ll miss you,” Jay admitted.

  Tristan sighed and nodded, gently stroking Jay’s chest. “I’ll miss you too.”

  Jay wanted to say something like ‘don’t be a stranger’ or ‘if you’re off mission and hear about a new bounty hunter in town, come look me up’, but Jay couldn’t bring himself to voice the words. He knew what being a career soldier was like, and it would be even harder for Tristan. He was an undercover operative who couldn’t afford to be recognized. Having a fling or a semi-serious relationship with someone like Jay would be a bad idea. He couldn’t afford to have Jay in his life, not if he wanted to advance his career in IA.

  No, if they ever saw each other again, Jay wouldn’t be able to admit an association without putting Tristan and his latest mission in jeopardy. It was best to go their separate ways and never look back. It had been the plan from the start and there was no use making everything harder than it needed to be.

  Tristan’s hand was still on his chest and Jay was still cupping Tristan’s cheek. Jay couldn’t resist one final, parting kiss. It was just a brush of mouths but he felt Tristan’s nails dig into his skin—a reflexive reaction when he recognized it for what it was—a goodbye.

  They wouldn’t be able to touch like this again. They needed to prepare for the attack on the compound, and even if they succeeded and reached the safety of IA, they couldn’t be seen standing too close. The oasis had offered a brief moment where the real world didn’t exist and nothing would stop them. But their moment was up and they had to return to reality.

  When they broke apart this time, Jay didn’t look at Tristan. He stepped backward and turned to face the undisturbed campsite.

  “I’ll keep watch while you shower,” Jay said.

  Tristan didn’t respond, but Jay heard clothes rustling as the agent picked up the last of his things. When he had everything he needed, Tristan walked past Jay without a glance. Jay admired his naked form, despite the ache in his chest. Tristan paused briefly and it looked like he might say something, but despite Jay feeling a brief stab of hope, Tristan said nothing. He started walking again and disappeared toward the showers. Jay sighed and leaned against the wooden beams that kept the canopy in place.

  “You always were a sucker for a pretty face,” Jay muttered to himself.

  But he knew it went far deeper than that—at least, for him. What Tristan was thinking and feeling, Jay had no idea. He also didn’t dare to make a guess. Tristan wouldn’t risk his career by being with Jay, no matter how much he might care. And even if Tristan were willing, IA wouldn’t let a thief like him be with a promising agent like Tristan.

  * * * *

  Tristan didn’t shower for long. When he returned, Jay stood without a word and walked past him for the showers, only taking the clothes he needed.

  The campsite had a portable showerhead linked to a water tank with white screen walls that could be raised or lowered. There was a small wooden table beside it for resting clothes or a towel. Tristan had found two and left a clean one for him. Jay didn’t bother with modesty and left the screen down. The cool water on his back was a welcome relief from days in the desert as he washed grime, sweat and the last reminders of sex off his body. He didn’t linger, but he used the time to clear his head and bottle any lingering thoughts and feelings for Tristan. He couldn’t afford distractions at the compound or to do something stupid when they got back to IA, all because Tristan had smiled at him.

  After drying himself and pulling on his clothes, Jay returned to the main campsite. Tristan was sitting on the steps of the hut. His head was tilted so that his gaze could rest on the mid-afternoon sky. Tristan’s black hair was almost dry and was curling around his ears. His poncho was lying on the wood beside him. Jay’s wrap and boots were there as well. Joining him, Jay rested against the wood post that held up the hut. It kept a degree of separation between them.

  “We have a few hours before nightfall,” Jay remarked. “It will be a good time to get some rest.” Tristan looked over at him, his expression inscrutable once more. “I can take first watch.”

  Tristan nodded and stood without a word. He stepped inside the Kada’rah’s hut, where their beds were. Jay sighed and looked away from the agent’s retreating figure. He turned his attention to the campsite, confirming that it was still secure before his gaze caught on the quaggas. Jay walked over to them with a smile. They had been munching away at the plant life and resting in the shade. He petted their coats and let them nuzzle his hands.

  “I’m glad we’ve found a better place to leave you,” Jay murmured, looking over the oasis. “IA might even pick you up the same time as they get the Kada’rah.” He searched in the saddlebag for some sugar cubes to feed them as he praised, “You’ve done good, boys.”

  Brutus and Rinax made soft snuffling sounds, each trying to get closer to him in the hopes of more treats. Jay laughed and gave them a final pat before stepping away. They tried to follow him, but they were still tied to the trees and eventually gave up to focus back on the bushes they could reach and nibble on. Jay’s smile turned soft and he walked back to the hut. He stepped onto the decking but paused when he glimpsed Tristan inside. He was lying on a cot, still wearing his clothes and with his eyes closed. Jay would have loved to join him, loved this to be their little shack in the middle of nowhere, a place they’d hired for some relaxation and fun.

  Jay sighed and turned away, his good humor dimming. He sat on the steps and looked out at the sand dunes. They were numerous and ongoing, and the sky was nice and bright. He could almost imagine he was on a planet famous for its tourist traps—the top ten romantic getaway locations in the galaxy. Maybe the Carana Desert would become one, after the Kada’rah were run out by IA—assuming, of course, that was an outcome the security organization wanted.

  Jay rubbed a hand over his face. It was useless speculating or fantasizing. He had a job to do. He had to stand watch. His weapons were close at hand and he arranged them easily, resting a plasma gun in his lap with his fingers near the trigger. It was easy to fall into a trance. Jay’s mind was empty of any thoughts but the sights and sounds around him. He was ready to act at a moment’s notice if something disturbed the peace and calm.

  But nothing did.

  Jay barely noticed two hours passing, but he twitched and turned when he heard Tristan stepping out of the hut. It was time to change shifts. Jay stood but didn’t speak as they swapped places. He curled into the bedding that was still warm from Tristan’s body. His lips twitched as he closed his eyes and made himself sleep. It wasn’t difficult, not with years of training teaching him to take a nap at any available opportunity.

  Waking up was just as simple hours later. A small jerk to the edge of the cot made Jay jump to attention. He found the room much darker than before and Tristan was standing at the end of the bed. The agent was wise enough to keep some distance between them after waking Jay. Jay offered an apologetic look as he slipped the knife he’d been sleeping with back into its sheath. It wasn’t uncommon to be accidentally attacked by a friend, as tensions ran high in combat zones.

  Tristan waited for Jay to stand up and together they walked out to the camp. Jay rubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the last vestiges of sleep. The ligh
t from the setting sun was casting long shadows over the campsite while orange, pink and purple colored the sky in a gorgeous sunset. It was too early. They wouldn’t leave for at least an hour. They used the time to eat a quick meal, pick additional weaponry from the syndicate’s arsenal and make sure the captured Kada’rah would remain secure.

  When they finished, Jay moved over to the quaggas. He untied them and pulled both the reins and saddles off them. He hoped that IA would look after them, but just in case, he would give them the best chance of survival. The animals seemed confused, but they butted their snouts fondly against Jay. He couldn’t resist a final stroke to their foreheads before turning away. Jay joined Tristan by the sandmobiles. He double-checked that they had everything they needed, but when there was nothing left to confirm, he took his seat and slipped on the IA communicators that would connect them to the ships.

  Switching on the sandmobile, Jay felt the familiar hum around his thighs before it lifted off the ground. The rush of air scattered the sand beneath him. Tristan raised his own vehicle to meet Jay’s. Sandmobiles were fast and easy to handle, but they had their drawbacks. Unlike snowmobiles that traveled on the ground, sandmobiles hovered, causing them to radiate more energy. It meant they would be easier targets for long-range weapons. They were still fun to drive, though.

  Exchanging a brief smile with Tristan, Jay focused on the feel of the engine beneath him and the taste of the desert breeze on his tongue. He pulled up his hood and covered his face while Tristan did the same with his shemagh. A moment later, Jay twisted his wrist on the handlebar to turn on the acceleration and the sandmobile took off. Jay guided it around the curve of the oasis and out onto the open sand. Tristan was a split-second behind him and the two of them stayed close as they sped their way across the Carana Desert toward the Kada’rah compound.

  The sandmobiles ate up the distance, letting them crest the dunes with little effort. They stuck to open sand whenever they could, but the thrill of rising high only to drop low never failed to make Jay beam. The moons and stars cast a now-familiar violet hue over the desert and made it easy to see. It would have taken them a day, maybe two, to reach the compound on quaggas—but traveling late at night and cloaked by the syndicate’s own vehicles, they took less than two hours.

  The first indications that they were close to their target were the rocks that spiked up from beneath the sand and the additional greenery and wildlife spattering the landscape. They were reaching the foothills that the Kada’rah base was built into. The lights of the compound soon became visible and they brought their sandmobiles to a stop. They hid behind a large, looming rock that was twice as tall as Jay and wide enough to hide them and the sandmobiles. It gave them a good view of the compound.

  The building lay below them, its gleaming metal bright under the moonlight. Guidance lights illuminated the landing bays and highlighted the men and women on patrol. The base was extensive and each building was connected. It sprawled outward like a military compound—but it was what was underneath that counted. Tunnels led into the mountains in case of attack, and like ants in a nest, their trails were extensive and impossible to pinpoint from the surface. Yet, unlike a military bunker designed for underground habitation, most of the syndicate’s operations were held above ground, with the tunnels only used in an emergency. The Kada’rah weren’t trained for an attack like a military force. They relied on their reputation and vast numbers to keep their base protected. It made them sloppy. They had bitten off more than they could chew when they’d kidnapped Zanik and prompted the involvement of IA.

  Satisfaction swelled within Jay. He smirked as he scanned the area for potential targets. It might be dangerous, but Jay would enjoy bringing the Kada’rah to their knees.

  IA intelligence suggested there wouldn’t be more than forty Kada’rah members in the compound. An attack would draw most personnel out of the base, but Jay needed them all to come running. Tristan had to slip in undetected and have time to release Zanik and get back outside unharmed. He couldn’t afford to be caught or interrupted.

  IA would be waiting to assist them, but they wouldn’t want to come too soon and risk the Kada’rah secreting Zanik into the tunnels. Jay had to trust that if they got into trouble, someone would come to help him. Forcibly shaking off his worries and his memories of the past, Jay turned to Tristan and gestured to the left.

  The area was filled with large rocks, and when it reached the foothills, the terrain shifted to dirt and stones. It was a perfect place to hide and to sneak up on the Kada’rah. They didn’t need to speak as they moved, darting between the rocks to remain unnoticed, while keeping an eye out for any Kada’rah patrols. When the sand gave way to the dirt and rocks of the mountainside, it became more dangerous to place one’s footing. It was either a miracle or pure foolishness that it was unpatrolled.

  They took a few minutes to make their way to the edge of the compound, crouching in the shadows as they searched for monitoring devices or Kada’rah members. When there were nothing, they used the cover of darkness to dart to the wall of the first building and press their backs against it. They edged their way along the metal until Jay reached the corner. He carefully checked for Kada’rah, but there was no one around. The compound was virtually unprotected because of that arrogance and the certainty that no one would dare attack them. The Kada’rah were used to the local authorities on Asam. They were clearly not used to Jay and Tristan.

  Glancing back at Tristan, Jay made quick finger commands to explain his plan. He would go straight ahead to hide among the small fleet of sandmobiles. They would be the first targets for explosions. Tristan would creep closer toward the doors of the compound so he could slip inside during the commotion.

  Tristan nodded his understanding and between one breath and the next, Jay was using a running crouch to reach the sandmobiles before anyone could spot him. The moment he was among them, Jay took a careful breath and let it out slowly. He detached himself from his emotions. Tristan was now nothing but another soldier to account for and protect. Tristan would do his job and get out safely, and Jay would listen for anything to the contrary. There was no time for worry or doubt.

  Focusing on the sandmobiles, Jay pulled some small but powerful explosives from his pocket and strapped them to the energy cores of four of the vehicles. Their proximity to each other would trigger multiple explosions. Their destruction would also hinder the Kada’rah’s escape via anything but the tunnels, leaving IA with a single target, should a search party prove necessary.

  Jay set the explosives on a remote timer before hurrying over to a parked hovercraft. It wasn’t the same one that had kidnapped Zanik, built for rough terrain as opposed to city driving. He attached another explosive but devised it to be triggered manually. He left the shadow of the craft to duck behind some unloaded crates. There were piles of them across the base, the ineptitude and laziness of the enemy serving Jay well and giving him dozens of places to hide. The many vehicles and ships created prime targets for additional fiery mayhem. They had offered Jay the perfect targets on a silver platter. He would have felt suspicious of his good luck if he hadn’t known the truth. The Kada’rah had spent decades believing themselves to be the biggest, toughest and meanest thing on Asam.

  Jay would change that.

  When the first explosion went off, Jay grinned. It was a large ball of flame that caused all the compound’s floodlights to switch on. Shouts of alarm filled the air, and the Kada’rah came running from every direction. Jay used the confusion to slip farther away from the explosion, planting the occasional device while he did. It took six minutes before he ran into someone. The man’s eyes widened but Jay punched the criminal in the face before he could shout an alarm. He crumpled to the ground but Jay didn’t bother picking him up or moving him. Jay only bent down long enough to disarm him before hurrying to another hiding spot.

  His next explosion—the hovercraft—showed the syndicate that the previous mayhem hadn’t been an accident. Jay watched from
behind a stack of supply crates as the compound doors opened and armed Kada’rah spilled out in search of their attacker.

  Jay knocked out five more Kada’rah members before his luck ran out. A female member was quick enough to shoot at Jay and he had to take more lethal action. But despite taking them out, things became more complicated. The Kada’rah stopped searching alone or in pairs, using larger groups and staying well away from anything that might explode. Some were shooting at the supply crates, hoping to give their intruder a taste of his own medicine. They weren’t a skilled or well-trained enemy, but there were a lot of them and they had firepower.

  Jay also had a duty to distract as opposed to killing whoever came his way. The IA was aiming for minimal casualties and numerous prisoners. They wanted an opportunity for interrogation. Jay did his best to maintain that order, but sometimes it just wasn’t possible.

  He’d been attacking the base for fifteen minutes when he tried to leave his latest hiding place and came face-to-face with another member of the Kada’rah. Jay caught and lifted up the muzzle of the man’s plasma gun before it fired. The blast just missed him, but he didn’t have long to celebrate. This Kada’rah was more skilled than the others, and while Jay wrestled the gun from him, they were quick to fall into hand-to-hand combat.

  The man’s fighting style was fast, full of sharp, brutal jabs of his fists. He had metal over his knuckles too, an item designed solely to inflict more damage. Jay avoided and blocked the man’s punches, but he was being forced backward. The criminal was trying to corner him. Jay had to end that fast. He waited for the man to swing again before moving to the side at the last moment, and he struck the man hard in the neck, rendering him unconscious. Once assured the man wouldn’t be getting back up, Jay scanned the area. The gunfire had alerted the Kada’rah to his location. He gritted his teeth before switching on his communicator.

 

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