“We might have something.”
Torkel glanced up from the communicator he’d been using to run over the details and reports of the most recent missions his unit had gone on when things started to fall apart. Faruk and Jaron had closeted themselves in a separate office drilling through pages of correspondence and memos.
“What do you have?” He asked, glad for the break.
Kyele and Arak came and sat on the edge of Torkel’s desk to listen as well.
“Rydak’s information is spot on for dates and locations. We can only assume that at some point someone discovered he was undercover and planted the false information knowing we’d be all over it.”
“The information wasn’t false,” Arak puzzled. “Every place we went had traces of the Marenians presence. We just seem to arrive late, so the timing was off.”
“Accident or deliberate?” Jaron queried, passing out a single piece of paper for all of them to look over. “I created a timeline and each raid based on the solid information from Rydak is off by mere hours. As if they’re receiving the information right before we leave.”
Jaron leaned over and pointed to specific dots and zigzags. “Here is an estimate on how long it would take us to get to each of the slave auctions from Enotia. Now if a person received notification somehow, it would be nothing for them to load up and scatter. We arrive and boom…nothing.”
Torkel frowned. “That’s cutting it really close. The Commander knows when we’re leaving on the raids. Anyone from his office can sell that information.”
Faruk tapped his finger on the desk. “The Commander knows what days we plan to leave because he knows the dates and locations of the raids but to know to the hour when we leave? He’s not given that level of detailed information. Jutak warriors get a lot of leeway when planning our missions and deciding which teams will go.”
It didn’t make sense. “What are you both thinking?”
Jaron met his stare. “It’s closer, Torkel. Has to be.”
“How damn close are you talking? Do you think someone on the teams?”
Arak growled. “What are you saying!”
Kyele stood up and raked his hands through his hair. Torkel waited for him to add his denial but as usual Kyele remained quiet and kept his thoughts to himself.
“Everyone has a price,” Jaron declared.
“Not my unit, not my teams,” Torkel stated adamantly. He knew them. Trusted them with his life. He’d hand picked each of them based on their profiles when he’d made Unit Leader. They had the top closure and capture ratings out of all the other Jutak warrior units.
“Come up with something else.” Torkel kept his gaze on Kyele who paced from his desk to the corner of the office. “We leave on the next raid tonight. It’s too late to change anything with the information the Commander has but we can change the teams.”
Faruk and Jaron smiled. “Set a trap for the leak.”
Torkel nodded. “Exactly. I’m taking Team One instead of Team Two and Three. Go in lean. We’ll leave an hour earlier than we originally planned. Share this with no one else. I’ll send a message to the other two teams after we’ve launched and left the surface. Jaron, prepare the other men from Team One. We’re going to find our snitch.”
***
Faye straightened up the pillows on the sofa. Torkel loved them but made it a point to scatter them when he sprawled his big body on the sofa when he relaxed. She smiled hugging one of the fluffy squares to her chest. He’d kissed her hot and heavy before leaving to meet with the teams again.
“You owe me a dance, you know,” she’d teased looking up into his eyes.
Torkel folded a few more items in his bag and stopped. His brown eyes smoldered. “A dance?”
She licked her lips and sashayed across the bedroom until she reached his side. “You, leather skirt, me naked.”
His hands settle at her waist as he corrected, “My loitte, not a skirt. Are you sure you don’t want something else? A new dress? Flowers?”
Faye tiptoed her fingers up his chest. “Do you want to experience blow jobs again?”
By the way his eyes darkened she had her answer. “One dance?”
She leaned back in his arms, running her hands over his collarbone beneath the black shirt. “One dance,” she agreed.
“You drive a difficult bargain, Chosen.” He lowered his head and kissed her.
Faye placed the pillow back on the cushions. At least she had something to look forward to.
The door opened and her darkly handsome Chosen strode in with that alpha walk that turned her on each time he entered a room. His hair was mused as if he’d been running his hands through it. The black multi-pocket pants and matching collarless shirt conformed to his large frame reminding Faye of all his leashed strength.
Torkel came straight to her and pulled her in tight, his mouth landing on hers with devastating force. Faye braced her hands on his chest, lips parting for his invading tongue as he took with every lick and suck. “Mmmm, I like that.”
He rested his forehead on hers. “I more than like it. I love it.”
Faye studied him closer. Fatigue radiated from his pores. The teams typically rotated when they went out but in light of the recent events Torkel was going on each mission. Inside, she winced. She wasn’t sure how the strange man was using the small comments she answered to thwart Torkel but Faye knew he was and as a result this latest group of slavers was proving difficult to stop.
“Are you okay, Torkel?”
“Change of plans. I know we were going to do something special tonight but I’m leaving with Team One and we’re leaving earlier.”
Fear slammed into her. “Is something wrong?”
He ran a hand over her hair. “Everything’s fine. It’s good of you to be concerned but this is typical work.”
She followed him to their bedroom where Torkel slung his duffel over his shoulder. Fear returned to her gut fast and oppressive. Faye grabbed the sleeve of his uniform. His combat gear he’d told her. “Don’t leave, Torkel.”
He caressed her face, his touch gentle. “I’ll be back tonight.”
“I don’t want you to go.” Her stomach churned and deep inside a part of her wailed in remorse. It didn’t feel right. A harbinger of something bad to come shadowed her thoughts.
Torkel pressed a light kiss on her nose. “What’s wrong? This isn’t like you, I’ve left on assignments before.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll wake you when I return and soothe you back to sleep.”
Even the sensual promise couldn’t still her rioting emotions.
The communicator buzzed as soon as the door closed behind Torkel. Faye’s fingers trembled as she answered.
“Answer quickly. Your Chosen was due to go on a raid tonight and I just need you to let me know if he’s changing anything.”
“Plans changed and they’re leaving earlier. It’s to counter the problems they’ve had.” Problems she was somehow responsible for.
“Very good, Faye. You’ve learned not to push me.” He disconnected without further words. Faye clenched her jaw and held back a scream. Enough. Enough doing his bidding. Tossing the communicator to the floor, she crushed it beneath her heel.
The pressure in her chest eased. She had to trust Torkel could handle himself.
***
Torkel stood on the other side of the door debating. Faye seemed more on edge and her concern about his mission tonight wasn’t her normal behavior. Making up his mind, he opened the door and went back in. Her back was to him but she jumped when he entered.
She turned and her face drained of color. Torkel tossed his bag to the side of the door and crossed to her. “Faye, what’s going on with you tonight?”
He grasped her shoulders and she shook like a fragile leaf on a tree. She practically climbed in his arms and Torkel stumbled back until he regained his balance and held on to her. He walked backward to the wall which was
closer than the sofa and leaned his weight against it. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell me.” He murmured, clasping the back of her neck with one hand and rubbing her with the other.
She clung tighter, pressing her cheek against his own while silent tears trickled on his face where she pressed her own.
“Oh, my sweet, Faye.” Torkel rocked her a little, hoping to soothe whatever fear rode her. He hated that she worried for him to the point of crying.
“You s-should go.” Faye’s legs slid down his waist and touched the floor.
Torkel reluctantly released her and tipped her chin up. Her eyes still watered but she met his bravely. “There’s my Chosen. I’ll be back.”
She nodded and walked him to the door. He grabbed his bag and kissed her one last time.
***
Torkel checked his weapons once more before settling in his jump seat on the shuttle. He couldn’t shake his mind off of Faye. This was a one night run and he’d been gone far longer without her worrying.
Jaron glanced over from his seat, eyes serious. “You good?”
Torkel shook away his thoughts and focused on the mission. Time to get back in the game. He’d talk with Faye later tonight. She was usually easy going and her jitters tonight probably concerned him for no reason. “I’m good.”
“Missing your Chosen already, huh?” Jaron’s smirk was worth the cuff Torkel landed on the back of his head.
“Ow.” Jaron jerked back in his seat drawing the stare of the other members in Team One.
Gregir laughed. “Is he messing with you about Faye again, Torkel?”
Torkel grinned and leaned back, adjusting his safety harness over his chest as the shuttle picked up speed for the launch. Jaron and his Chosen had bonded more than he would have expected. Faye often came across as shy but Torkel later realized that his men intimidated her when they were all together. She could handle small groups better and her preference for Jaron’s company was obvious.
His team leader’s humor often set her off into wild laughter. The sound would draw Torkel’s attention and leave him with a smile on his face. The feeling had grown over the last few weeks since their time together. He’d finally identified it one night while watching her sleep. Contentment. Torkel finally had what he’d always wanted.
“Jaron’s jealous, Gregir. He needs to find a female of his own and leave mine alone.”
Jaron paled. “I’m not ready to settle down. I leave that to the old folks.”
His statement had Geile frowning. Geile had Jaron by a few years. “I’ll show you old in the training rooms when we return.”
Jaron smacked his vest-covered chest. “Game on. Bring your baby brother. You’ll need him to carry you back to your room.”
Gregir chuckled and Geile nailed him with a glare. Arak watched the play, his laser in his lap charged at the ready.
“Expecting trouble when we land, Arak?” Torkel asked, pulling the conversation to more serious matters.
“My senses are fired up. This doesn’t feel right.”
They all stiffened and sat up in their seats. Torkel trusted Arak’s animal instincts. They hadn’t steered the team wrong yet. “What are you thinking?”
Arak snarled and shifted in his seat. “I can’t put my finger on it.”
Considering the failure with the previous missions, Torkel understood his concern. “Let’s stay sharp, team. Arak let us know if you get twitchy at any point when we reach the surface. The plan is simple. If the slavers are there, we go in hot, arrest the ring leaders and free the estimated ten slaves in this shipment.”
“Jaron, notify Team Two and Three about the changes.” They were fifteen minutes out from reaching their destination. Torkel trusted his teams but this way there was as little chance for a leak since only he, Faruk, Kyele and the Team One guys knew about this last minute switch.
“Done.”
They were quiet for the rest of the trip, each of them deep into their thoughts. Soon, the shuttle pilot’s voice came on the overhead warning of the landing. Arak checked his weapon again.
Torkel’s shoulders tensed, if the half-Enotian, half-Argoran was this nervous then they all needed to be nervous.
Chapter 17
Rydak’s intel put the slavers in the upper level of the two story, abandoned plastic factory. Plastic wasn’t considered worth the cost of mass production with more useable and sustaining products on the market available for household and commercial use. This place would sit empty until someone decided to move forward and demo it.
The low warble of voices coming from the small office down the hall meant they were in the right place. Torkel stayed low in the lead and hand signaled Jaron. His team lead nodded and ducked to the left of the corridor. Another hand signal and Geile and Gregir broke off to go right. Arak met his gaze across the hall and Torkel nodded. They’d be together when they busted down the door where the supposed slavers were meeting and negotiating prices with potential buyers.
“On my count,” Torkel murmured. “One, two…” He adjusted his weapon and angled it up. “Three.”
Torkel hit the door and rolled to the side as Arak rolled in the opposite direction. Someone screamed and a laser blast fired above his head, hitting the paint-stained wall. Glass shattered as Geile, Gregir and Jaron came through the back window leading into the office. The three Marenians jumped to their feet, kicking the round tables over to use for cover while the five potential buyers dove to the floor, hands over their head.
It was five against three but the slavers didn’t seem to care. Torkel kept his back up against the wall and aimed for one of the screaming men on the floor. “Jutak warriors, drop your weapons,” he yelled.
One of the sniveling men put his hands out. His yellow skin turned green. A chamele. “Don’t shoot, please.”
“On the floor, hands behind your head,” Torkel ordered.
The buyers weren’t the ones they had to worry about. Torkel made a gesture for Arak who nodded he understood.
“Jutak scum!” One of the Marenian called out.
Torkel turned in his direction and the dark-haired Marenian smiled maliciously, aimed for the crying buyer and shot him in the head.
“Fuck,” Torkel gritted out as return laser fire blasted across the room from Geile and Gregir. There were only four buyers left thanks to the large pool of blood forming under the chamele’s head. He felt no remorse for the death since the man was here to purchase illegal sex slaves but the Marenians actions pointed to this not going down peacefully.
“Drop your weapons!” Torkel repeated.
Jaron slid closer. Arak rose, making himself a target and fired. The buyers screamed and scrambled from the center of the room, seeking shelter. One of the Marenians, a big bastard with a twisted horn, roared and recklessly started shooting at the buyers.
Jaron swore and fired back, attempting cover for them but by the screams he knew it was too late. They’d killed the four men.
“Now!” Jaron said in his ear bud.
Geile and Gregir erupted adding firepower to the amount lighting up the small room.
A man screamed in agony.
“Save one,” Torkel commanded. “We need one to take back.”
Arak cursed. “Thanks, Torkel. Wish you’d have said something sooner.”
Torkel fought a grim smile.
The remaining Marenian kicked out a back door and fled down the hall in a bid to escape.
“Don’t lose him,” Torkel called as he gave chase with Arak.
Jaron voice came through his ear bud. “I’m heading him off from the back.”
Torkel knew the Marenian focused on him and Arak so he had to give Jaron time to get into position. A burst of fire rained behind his head.
“Drop your weapon, traitor.” The Marenian stopped at the end of the long hallway and aimed at Torkel.
Torkel ducked into a narrow alcove as laser fire came his way, narrowly missing him.
A crash then Jaron yelled. Torkel kicked up his pace.
The destroyed door hung from its hinges. He and Arak jumped through the entrance at the same time. Abandoned tables and lab equipment filled the room.
Torkel half crawled half ran behind a low counter. He fired in the direction of the slaver. A low grunt then groan echoed through the room. Not sure if he’d made any kill shots, Torkel peered around the corner.
“Clear,” Jaron called out.
Geile, Gregir and Arak converged in the center of the room. Torkel approached as Jaron struggled to subdue the one living Marenian. The slaver with the twisted horn. When he spotted Torkel he went crazy, shouting obscenities.
Arak walked over and lashed him over the head with the butt of his laser. The slaver slumped to the floor unconscious. Jaron laughed outright. “Don’t kill mine just because you killed yours.”
Geile shook his head and Gregir crouched by Jaron and helped with the bonds they’d brought. Satisfaction filled Torkel. “What about the slaves?”
Jaron shook his head. “Spotted cages downstairs.”
A sinking feeling hit Torkel. “And?”
“Empty,” Jaron answered.
Torkel lit the air with curses.
***
Exhaustion weighed on Torkel as he pushed at the sweat soaked hair from his face but the night wasn’t over. They needed answers and fast.
“Has he talked?” Torkel glared through the two-way window at the prisoner cuffed to the single chair in the detainment room.
Arak had worked the Marenian over while questioning him. Surprisingly, he’d remained tight lipped and hadn’t revealed anything they could use to hunt down Lothar.
Faruk cursed. “Nothing. I think it’s time to let Kyele have a go at him.”
Torkel had to agree. He’d hoped the prisoner would break before sending in the man who rode the edge of danger on and off missions. “Fine. Let’s see what Kyele can get out of him. Although, Arak usually makes groan men cry.”
He’d seen it happen too many times to count. One flash of Arak’s canines and claws usually had a prisoner spewing a wealth of information to the half Enotian.
“I’ll page him. He, Jaron and Rydak planned to go over every step of the mission tonight and see if there’s any hint on how the Marenians knew to move their cargo just minutes before we arrived.”
Torkel's Chosen: A World Beyond Book 1 Page 12