by Leslie Chase
Zardan tried to grab for him. All he could manage was a little twitch, his traitorous muscles unwilling to cooperate. Above him, the human's laughed.
"What do we do with 'em, boss?" one of the guards asked. "Slit their throats?"
"Don't be an idiot," the captain snarled at his men. "How'd we explain that? No, I've got a better idea. Bring them, and make sure they're unconscious. They can have a little accident."
With a tremendous effort Zardan managed to pull himself up, grabbing hold of the captain's wrist and pulling. For a moment he thought he had a chance. Then one of the stun batons cracked him across the skull, sending him convulsing to the floor. Darkness swallowed him as he tried to hold onto the memory of Gillian's face.
19
Gillian
The main hub of Fuller Station was busy in comparison with the crawler docks, but that wasn't saying much. Compared to how active the station had been when the Willises arrived on Mars, it was quiet, lacking the bustling crowds that Gillian remembered. More and more trade went by skyship now, and that meant that a lot of it was simply not stopping here. With the range of a skyship, some traders were going directly to Olympus rather than stopping off here.
Still, the area around Fuller's skyship port was busy enough that Gillian felt comfortably anonymous. Trying to look as uninteresting as possible she made her way through to the communications booths near the center. From here, she could place a call to anywhere on Mars. At least in theory — after the failure of the comms at the farm, she didn't want to take it for granted.
She took a seat in one of the rear-most booths, out of the way. With one last, nervous look around, she connected her tablet to the booth and called up the directory. A sense of relief washed over her when her credit was accepted and the system asked for a destination. She looked around again, nervous. No one seemed to be paying her any attention.
Good. Maybe Zardan's drawn them all off, she thought. Or maybe they wouldn't have tracked me anyway, yet?
She turned back to the screen, hesitating over who to call. No one really had jurisdiction all the way out on the polar ice cap, and that made it hard to decide who'd be able to help. A quick glance through the directory under 'law enforcement' gave her inspiration. The Piracy Patrol was a joint dragon-human organization, after all, and Karaos was trying to steal a ship. It was sort of like what they were supposed to investigate.
It might not be perfect, but it was better than calling the Dragon Palace and hoping she could make a case strong enough to get the Emperor's attention.
Connecting to their offices in Olympus Colony took a long minute, and Gillian sat there with her heart hammering in her chest. Come on, answer, she thought, glancing around again. Her mouth was dry, and it felt like invisible eyes were watching her by the time the screen cleared.
A tough-looking woman stared out at her, eyes serious.
"Piracy Patrol," she said. "Captain Laura Martigan speaking. How can we help?"
Thank God. "My name's Gillian Willis, and I'm calling to report... pirates, I guess? Out at Fuller Station."
She cursed herself for sounding so uncertain. The last thing she wanted was to look unconvincing, but Captain Martigan nodded and started to take notes.
"Go on," she urged. "What's happened? That's not a usual area for pirates."
"It's not the usual kind of piracy," Gillian admitted. "They found—"
Before she could launch into an explanation, the screen abruptly went dark. Looking up with a start, Gillian saw that all the displays were out — not even the screen showing her credit was available. Whatever's going on, it's time to leave, she told herself, grabbing her tablet and standing.
Stepping out of the booth, she practically ran into two men waiting for her. One grabbed her by the arm faster than she could react, and the other held up a station security badge.
Oh shit.
The men stood between her and the crowded concourse, blocking everyone's view. Suddenly choosing an out-of-the-way booth to make her call from didn't seem so clever after all — it had just allowed them to isolate her.
Gillian drew a breath to shout for help, but before she could let it out the man holding her punched her in the stomach. All the breath left her body and she gasped for air as he supported her, tears welling in her eyes.
"Please come with us, miss," the man with the badge said, loud enough that anyone nearby would catch the authority in his tone. "We've got some questions concerning an ongoing investigation."
It worked. The few people who'd looked in her direction shrugged and turned away. Struggling to breathe, Gillian wished she'd come up with a better plan for this moment. It was one thing to say she'd wait for Zardan to rescue her, it was another to let herself be taken away by thugs dressed as police.
Though they probably were real station security officers: Fuller Station didn't have a real police force, after all, just a private security team hired on the cheap. Gillian doubted it had cost Danforth much to buy their cooperation.
"What—" She coughed, struggling to get her breath back, and tried again. "What are you charging me with?"
"We can discuss that downstairs," the crooked cop said cheerfully, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "Now are you going to come quietly? Or are we going to have to cuff you?"
"I want my lawyer."
The men holding her laughed, and the leader shook his head slowly, almost sadly. "Sweetheart, you've been watching old Earth shows, haven't you? The rules aren't the same out here. Now are you going to cooperate or are we going to have to drag you downstairs kicking and screaming? Because I can promise you that you won't enjoy that experience."
The nasty spark in his eyes and the sickly-sweet warmth in his voice told Gillian that he might enjoy it, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Zardan will find me, she told herself. This is part of the plan. Sort of, anyway. It would lead them to the heart of the enemy, the people they had to deal with.
It wasn't as though she had a choice, anyway. No one on the concourse around them looked in the least bit interested in getting involved in the arrest, and she couldn't blame them. It wasn't as though she'd have done any different in their place, after all. Gillian glared up at the smiling man as his companion dragged her towards the elevators beside the hub. There was no point in trying to fight, not here and now.
Once the elevator doors closed and they started their descent, she risked speaking up. Without an audience, perhaps they wouldn't feel the need to shut her up?
"How much is Danforth paying you for this, anyway?" she asked. "It can't be cheap."
"It's good pay for an easy bit of work," the man said, grinning. "Beats rounding up drunks for a pittance, anyway. And it's not like you made it hard work — the computer flagged your call out of the station as soon as it started. Should have been more careful."
"I didn't have much choice," Gillian said angrily. "I'm trying to save my family here."
"Sure, sure." It wasn't that the man didn't believe her, she thought. It was worse. He didn't care whether she was telling the truth, and that made Gillian angry. She tried to control the emotion, to channel it and keep it from taking control of her. This man clearly had no problems hitting her if she pissed him off.
And maybe he's right, I could have tried getting someone else to place the call, she admitted. But then what? Maybe they'd still have spotted it, and I'd just have gotten someone else in trouble as well.
There was no point in worrying about past mistakes now. Better to look for new opportunities. Escape looked impossible, but there was no reason not to spread some discontent amongst the enemy.
"It doesn't sound like you're being paid enough, then," she told him. "I mean, you've got no idea how rich Danforth and his lot are going to get off this, and they're paying you crumbs."
The security man snorted. "Come on, how much can a little thing like you be worth? They get to foreclose on your farm without trouble, right? Not exactly a lottery win."
"Maybe you shou
ld have listened to my call before you pulled the plug," Gillian said, letting a little of her anger show. "Then you'd know what that land is really worth."
"Oh yeah? So why don't you tell me now?"
"Nope." Gillian forced a grin. "I don't owe you anything. You can ask your pal Danforth, or you can wait and watch him leave you in the dirt."
For a moment she thought he'd hit her again, but then the elevator came to a halt and its doors slid open. Grabbing her by the arm and glaring, the security man pulled her out and down a corridor. They were well below the surface now, Gillian was pretty sure, and in the parts of the station reserved for maintenance and supplies. A good place to hide a conspiracy, perhaps, but Gillian felt a little better. If Danforth was operating in secrecy it implied that he didn't have full control of the station. Otherwise, surely, she'd be taken to the security service's cells?
They walked wordlessly, but she could feel the man fuming as he led her deeper into the tunnels. Good. If he's questioning himself, that might give me a chance to do something.
Even if it didn't, driving a wedge between Danforth and some of his minions was a small victory. Anything that pushed them apart might give Zardan an opening when he came to rescue her. Which he would. He had to.
"In here," the man snarled at last, shoving her through a door and into a large storage area. It had been modified into a living space with furniture and some supplies, and a football game was playing on a screen on one wall. Sitting around a table, watching the game, were three men, but Gillian only really saw one of them.
"Dad!" she cried out, pulling away from her guard and leaping forward to hug him. The impact drove the air out of him in a whoof and he nearly tumbled from his chair. He winced as she squeezed him, and his face was bruised and battered. But still, his answering embrace was powerful, holding her tight and giving her strength. "Dad, I was so scared."
"I know," he answered, his voice cracking. "God, Gillian, I wanted to get back to you so badly."
They held each other for a long moment and only then did Gillian become aware of the sarcastic applause from across the table. Looking up with a glare she saw Brooker Danforth clapping his hands slowly as he smirked.
"Well, isn't this a happy sight," he said. There was a bright core of rage in his gaze and a painful-looking bruise on his cheek. "I'm glad I could facilitate this reunion. I'd have done it ages ago if you weren't both so fucking stubborn, but hey, there we go."
"You kidnapped me," Gillian's father said, glaring across the table. "You held me here and threatened my children."
"Yes, yes I did," Danforth said, not quite able to hide his contempt. "And if you'd only sold out like I told you to, you'd have gotten to go home free and clear. Or if your darling daughter here had accepted the repossession, I wouldn't have had to keep you this long. But no, you had to be violent. And now here we are."
Gillian couldn't help smiling a little at that. Did that mean that Danforth's bruise was her father's work? It sounded like it. Way to go, Dad!
Reluctantly loosening her embrace, she glared at Danforth. "You realize that this is pointless, right? Killing us doesn't get you what you want, so you can't win. Even if I was less stubborn than my father, that wouldn't help you — you'd still need him to agree to whatever you want."
From the door behind them came a booming voice. "In that case, there's no value in keeping either of you alive, is there?"
Gillian spun to see a pair of dragon shifters walking through the door behind her. Looking up at them reminded her of just how big and dangerous the shifters were: tall, broad, and muscular, their deep red skin gleaming in the light, they dominated the room without trying. Unlike Zardan, these dragon shifters didn't make her feel safe at all. Each was a threat, a deadly one, and she fought the impulse to instinctively retreat.
It was a small comfort that the security guards both took a step back from them, hands nervously brushing the stun batons at their belts. The shifters glanced at them, contempt rippling from them.
Only Danforth seemed untroubled by the new arrivals.
"Lord Karaos, Lord Sarax," he said by way of greeting, standing and smiling. "There's no need to frighten our guests, not when I'm sure they'll be reasonable."
The tone of his voice was anything but reassuring, and the lead shifter's laugh showed just how seriously he took the admonition. It was a cruel, cold sound, and Gillian felt her father's hand tighten on her shoulder. That must be Karaos, she realized, fear warring with her anger. The leader of these dragons.
"Maybe," the dragon lord said as he approached the table and sat down. The other stood against the wall, folding his arms. "Let's see if you're right. Humans can be so... foolishly stubborn at times."
Danforth opened a briefcase and took out two contracts, shoving one across the table to Gillian and the other to her father. She glanced down at it, frowning. From the front page of the document, it was the same as the offer he'd made at the farm.
Wrinkling her face in distaste she pushed it back. "I didn't sign it before, why do you think I'll do it now?"
"To save your life?" Danforth frowned, as though the very idea of her sticking to her guns was alien to him. "To save his life? Because it's the best deal you're going to get, and you might as well walk out of this room with some money in your bank account?"
She folded her arms and sat back. "I don't know if your hired goons told you, but I got through to the piracy patrol. Told them enough that they will investigate. So, if you kill us you're going to get caught long before the inheritance is sorted out. Let us go and you won't have to deal with the murder charges on top of everything else."
It wasn't exactly a bluff, but she certainly wasn't as calm as she tried to sound. Her heart pounded and all she could think about was how close they were to death. But she kept her face straight and glared at Danforth, ignoring Karaos for the time being.
Danforth glared straight back at her, his eyes narrowing.
"Imbeciles," he snapped at the guards without looking away. "How could you let her make that call?"
"Hey, you don't pay us that well for our cooperation," the leader of the guards said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "This isn't retirement money, right? We still need to have our jobs after this."
"Yeah," his companion added. "Blocking every call out of here would have gotten us caught right quick. You want us to do that, you need to pay a hell of a lot more than you did. Seems like you're too cheap to get what you need."
"It doesn't matter," Karaos rumbled, flicking his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Stick with the plan, Mr. Danforth. As long as they sell the farm now, we can weather things long enough for us all to make our piles of gold."
Danforth dragged a hand through his hair, looking away from the guards.
"At least we don't have to worry about Zardan's claim on the land anymore," he said. "You did get that right, didn't you?"
Gillian tried to keep her expression straight, but she could feel the blood drain from her face at that. It's a bluff, a trick, it has to be.
But the guard captain nodded. "I told you, all right? It's handled. My boys are dealing with the cleanup now."
Karaos chuckled darkly. "A shame that I didn't get a rematch against him. I would have liked that. But better that he's out of the way neatly, I suppose. Pity about Graxon, though."
Danforth shrugged elaborately. "A shame, yes, but Graxon had served his purpose."
"And with him gone," the guard chimed in, "there's more money to go around to the rest of us."
Feeling her blood freeze, Gillian clenched her teeth and glared. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't — the idea that Zardan was dead didn't seem real. And yet the way they spoke about him was convincing. They weren't gloating at her or taunting her, just talking amongst themselves.
She still couldn't believe it, but it was hard to doubt too. Her father reached out to squeeze her shoulder. He might not know who Zardan was or what he meant to Gillian, but he still offered her what comfort
he could, and she appreciated that.
Karaos turned back to the two of them, smiling a cold, shark-like smile. "Back to the matter at hand. Take the deal, humans, and you get to live. Don't, and you can join Zardan in death."
"What makes you think either of us will sign that damned paper, you monster?" Gillian's father said angrily. Karaos smiled, turning to the dragon by his side and saying something in their own language. The other shifter saluted and strode off out of the room, shooting Gillian a glare before he left.
"We need signatures, true," Karaos said, switching back to English and addressing Gillian's father again. "And I don't doubt that you're both tough enough to resist our attempts to force you to sign. But you aren't the only members of your family involved here."
"Harry can't sign anything alone," Gillian said quickly, not liking where this was going. "You need two of us."
"That's right," said Danforth. "The two of you can take the payment and walk out of here with it. Or—"
"—Or my friend Sarax will burn your damned farm down to the ice it stands on, with the youngling inside," Karaos finished for him. Gillian paled and started to object.
"That won't get you anything," she said, angry at herself for letting her voice shake.
"I know," Karaos said. "But if you won't sign that paperwork, then I won't get what I want anyway. I might as well get my revenge instead. Thus, I swear by the Thousand Suns and the Dragon Throne: if you do not cooperate, Harry Willis will die by dragonfire."
"Lord Karaos is a hot-headed fellow," Danforth interjected, false sympathy dripping from his words. "If it were just me, I'd take my time and see if we couldn't come to some other arrangement. Unfortunately for you, you're not only dealing with me, and my partner has less patience than I."
Gillian looked from one to the other, seeing the hardness of their eyes. Both were determined to win this contest at any price, including Harry's life.
She swallowed, looking around at her father. He shook with anger and fear, and she could see the confusion and pain on his face. His expression mirrored her feelings all too well. If these bastards were willing to go through with their threat...