by JC Cassels
Her gentle acceptance gave him the comfort he’d needed ever since he’d learned the extent of his own injuries from ditoxicin.
It hadn’t been in a luxury stateroom on board a liner. He’d been in a cold medical ward lined with beds and flanked by men who were no longer breathing on their own and wouldn’t survive the night. He always wondered if the men on either side of him had heard his prognosis just before the healer had turned to the medics and discussed how much longer to keep them on the ventilators.
Lying there clinging to her, he felt the tight knot of pain and guilt that he’d been carrying around since that night finally begin to give way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bo drifted in and out of consciousness. Some of her sleep was natural, most was induced by hypospray. Her encounters with her benefactor increasingly took on a surreal quality as more sedatives filled her system. Snippets of conversations drifted around her and floated away.
“Stay with her,” her benefactor said. “I’m playing this round.”
“This isn’t right and you know it.”
“She shouldn’t wake up. I’ve got her pretty well sedated.”
“Have you considered what happens if she gets addicted to that stuff? You’ve seen what it can do…”
“You let me worry about that. Stay away from her. Just because she’s pretty it doesn’t make her any less dangerous.”
“This is so like you – picking up wounded strays and nursing them back to health.”
“Yeah, that’s me: Mister Selfless. I mean it, Chase. Stay away from her.”
That name meant something to her, but whenever she reached for it, it danced away just out of her reach.
***
Blade glanced down at the single playing card he’d left sitting on the table in the randomizing field. He still had time before it cycled to the desired value. The dim lights in the private gaming salon made it difficult to see with his sunshades on, but that was the whole point. Tennova was trying to force him to remove them.
The player to his left, an IC agent from the Third Sector set his game cards on the table. “I’m out,” he announced.
That just left Tennova.
Blade studied the man. Something about him didn’t add up. He was intelligent certainly, and ruthless, but he didn’t have an engineer’s mind. He wasn’t detail oriented. He took shortcuts and wild risks. The only reason he was still in the game was due to his deep pockets.
Tennova’s thin lips tightened into what passed for a smile. “I will see your fifty thousand,” he said tossing the silver pieces into the center of the table. His eyes narrowed as he studied Blade. His thin fingers counted out another pile of silver pieces and tossed them on top of the first. “And I’ll raise you fifty thousand more, Mister Roarke.”
Aware of all the eyes on him, Blade made a show of studying the cards in his hand. He counted down the seconds left in the randomizer’s cycle. The timing was critical if he wanted the Five-Point. He fingered his stack of silver pieces as if trying to make up his mind. Then, as if coming to a decision, he tossed a stack into the middle of the table.
“I call,” he said, snatching his game card out of the randomizing field. He added it to his hand. The Lady of Staves… a perfect Five-Point hand. It took all his self-control not to smile or otherwise show emotion.
The randomizing field clicked off, signaling the end of the round. Tennova smiled and spread his game cards on the blue fabric. “Nines high,” he said smugly.
Waiting a beat, Blade leaned forward and spread his game cards on the table. “Five-Point,” he said.
Watching Tennova’s face, he slowly leaned back in his seat. The smug superiority faded as the other man realized he’d been beaten. Disbelief gave way to amazement, then rage, then something more calculated and dangerous. Forcing a social smile, Tennova turned over his game cards and conceded the winnings to Blade with a wave of his hand.
Taking his time, Blade gathered his winnings, casually observing the way Tennova’s entourage ushered the other players from the cramped lounge.
“Mister Roarke, you are very good at Five-Point,” Tennova said in a conversational tone.
The door slid shut behind the last man, leaving the two of them alone. Blade didn’t respond as he stacked his winnings in front of him, sorting by amount for ease of bidding.
“Are you sure you’re not cheating?”
“I play Five-Point, Mister Tennova,” Blade said matter-of-factly. “It’s all I do. You do one thing long enough, you get good at it.” He stopped adjusting his pieces and flipped his cards face down on the table. “I don’t need to cheat.”
“Why are you here, Mister Roarke?”
“I’m here to take your credits, Mister Tennova.”
Tennova leaned back in his seat and studied him for a long moment. “Are you sure that’s all you’re here for?” He shook his head. “Most of the people I’m playing are Inner Circle agents, or from some other government agency or Sub-socia organization.”
Blade smiled. “That would account for my unusually good run of luck.”
“So you expect me to believe that you’re not a government agent and you’re not here for the phase weapon.”
“I’m not even sure what a phase weapon does, Mister Tennova.”
“It tears a hole in space, Mister Roarke,” Tennova said. “It defies standard shielding.”
Blade subtly mimicked Tennova’s posture. It was a ploy to appear submissive, copying body language. He used it to lull Tennova into a sense of security on a subconscious level. It was a delicate dance, but one at which Blade excelled.
“What happens when holes are torn in space?” Blade asked.
“Bad things.”
Blade had to get him talking. He needed more. Conjuring a smile he shook his head. “A hole in space? Is that anything like a hole in a wine cask? Does all the good stuff leak out of the universe? I fail to see what use anyone would have for something like that.”
“It defies standard shielding…”
“You said that.”
Tennova’s self-assurance wavered. His brow furrowed. “It tears a hole…”
Blade shrugged. “How? How would it possibly tear a hole in space. Is that even possible? Has anyone even researched that? That sounds like science fiction.”
Tennova looked confused. He stared unseeing at the ceiling, his mouth working while he looked for an answer. The simple answer was yes. Doctor Tyson on Clytus V had done extensive research into spatio/temporal phasic studies. His findings were well-published and considered to be the seminal work on phase technology. If Tennova had done any research into developing a phase weapon, he would know that. Hell, if he’d done half the homework to prepare for his role that Blade had done to prep for his, he’d know that. The preliminary specs on the weapon he’d received from Larianne quoted one of Tyson’s papers verbatim.
A basic phase weapon would fire an energy burst that caused matter to be out of temporal phase with the matter around it, creating an inter-dimensional rift in realspace. On a planet, the effects could be devastating, akin to a black hole. In a heavily used interstellar shipping lane, it could play havoc with hyperspace travel. As far as the research went, it was all purely theoretical.
Shaking his head, Blade regarded Tennova with new curiosity. He may be intelligent, but his knowledge of phase technology was nil.
“I’m sorry, Mister Tennova, I’m here to play Five-Point. I really couldn’t care less about weaponry.” He gestured towards the game table. “Care to play another round?”
Tennova gathered his tattered wits about him and touched the controls activating the randomizing field.
Tennova may not have a phase weapon to sell, but someone had gone to a lot of trouble and expense to lure a disreputable gathering of government agents to one spot, himself included. If there was no weapon, then what were they all doing there? …and who was supposed to end up dead?
Blade tossed in his ante. “Your play Mister Tenno
va.”
***
“Bo? Bo! Can you hear me? Come on, brat! Wake up, please! Come on, baby. Say something! It’s okay – you’re alone. Come on, Barron! Talk to me!”
Her brother’s familiar voice pulled her from the depths of unconsciousness. Bo struggled against the blackness that surrounded her.
“Come on, Barron! Wake up!”
Lifting her hand took so much effort, she wondered idly if someone had drastically increased the ship’s gravity. Bo touched the com-implant behind her left ear and heard the actuator engage.
“Bo, talk to me!” Edge’s voice sounded in her ear. “Come on, brat. I know you’re there. I see that you’ve opened the channel. You have to fight it. Your life depends on it. Come on, baby girl! You’re alone. Say something!”
“Shut up and let me get a word in, why don’t you?” It took all her strength to force the words thickly out of her mouth.
Her brother whooped in her ear. “I was afraid I’d lost you,” he said. “Royce called me and told me you’d disappeared. It’s been three days. We’ve been frantic.”
“I was hurt…”
“Yeah, I saw the security footage. I know what happened.”
Of course. Her information broker brother could access practically any network with his computer augmented brain.
“I’m tapped into the liner’s internal network,” Edge explained.
Bo struggled to open her eyes, but something held them closed. Lifting her hand, she touched the bandages over her eyes.
“I can’t see,” she said.
“I know. I’ve retraced your steps. You need to get out of there. Royce is waiting in his stateroom for you. You need to get mobile. I’ve got an extraction team on the way.”
“I can’t see,” she repeated. “I’m so tired…”
“Fight it, Bo!” he shouted. “I need you to fight with everything you’ve got. You need to get on your feet now!”
“I don’t know where my clothes are,” she said. “I can’t find them. I can’t see…”
“Move it, Commander!”
“I can’t move.”
Edge was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone was calm and carefully modulated. “I know it’s hard, Bo. I need you to trust me. You have to get on your feet and get out of there. You’re on a ship with maybe twenty covert agents from every sector. Right now, you’re in the bed of the most dangerous of all of them. I’ve got a psych report that says he may well be a sociopath. So far, I’ve been able to keep your cover ID intact. But this guy is investigating you and Royce from every angle. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to fend him off. He’s technically one of the good guys, but if he finds out who you really are, all bets are off.”
“What do you mean ‘technically one of the good guys’?”
“I mean that if you didn’t have a death sentence hanging over your head, you could probably trust him with your life, you know -- aside from the sociopath thing. At the moment, he’s only after the same package you are. But if he finds out who you are and why you’re there, he’ll believe the worst and put you down on the spot. This guy’s file says he is heartless and relentless. His own handler’s afraid of him. You need to get out of there.”
“We need it to get Papa back…”
“Brat, I’m close to locating Pop. Right now, I’m more worried about getting you off that liner alive.”
“Are you sure this guy is one of the good guys?”
“Pretty sure, yeah.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s going by Darien Roarke, but…”
“Darien?” Disappointment followed closely on the heels of her initial excitement. “He’s IC?”
“First Sector. He’s a Predator. His clearance goes all the way to Lord Marin.”
Bo considered that for a long moment. A Predator. That made him an assassin… a damn good one… but he’d saved her from an assassin…
“Bo?”
“I’m here.” She shook her head to clear it. “What do you know about ditoxicin?”
“Lemme see… It’s almost always lethal,” Edge said. “Survival rate is very low. Most who come into contact with it don’t get treatment in time. It’s not easily identified.”
“I’m one of the exceptions,” Bo said. “That’s what I walked into. This Predator saved my life.”
“That explains the drugs and equipment missing from the infirmary.”
“He didn’t have to help me.”
“Oh, shit!” Edge snapped. “He’s coming back. It’s too late!”
“Watch Royce’s back,” Bo said. “I’ll be fine. Stay plugged in and if I need you, I’ll let you know. Barron out.”
Bo tapped the implant once more, cutting off her brother’s protests. The door slid open and she heard him enter.
“Who’s there?” she called, struggling to raise up on one elbow.
“How in the hell are you conscious?” he asked.
“I have to use the lav and I don’t think I can get there without help,” she said.
“Hang on,” he said.
Bo waited patiently, struggling to identify the sounds he made. Once he’d opened and closed a dresser drawer, he moved to her bedside and helped her to her feet.
“I feel so strange,” she said.
“It’s the sedatives,” he explained. “I needed to give you something that would make sure you stayed put. I’ve been giving you trizian. Looks like I’m going to have to wean you off of it before you get hooked.”
“Isn’t that a date rape drug?” she asked.
He chuckled. “It’s been used for that,” he admitted. “One of the side effects is increased libido.”
“And you used it on an Altairian? That’s…” she shook her head looking for the right word. “…evil.”
“What’s the matter, Marissa? Are you afraid you’ll force yourself on me?” The light humor in his voice was oddly disarming.
He helped her into the lav and guided her to the facilities then he stepped away from her.
“It’s not fair. I don’t know what to call you. Hey, you – big guy?”
He chuckled. “That works.”
“Flyboy?”
“I’ll answer to whatever you want to call me,” he said, his voice came from outside the lav.
“How about your name?”
He hesitated.
“You know my name,” he said at last. She heard the smile in his voice. “Call me Darien.”
“That’s not your real name, though, is it?”
“No.”
“I think I’ll stick with flyboy.”
“I’m not a pilot,” he said. “But you are, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I’m a Kiara with Skyhopper aspirations.”
She finished her business and rose unsteadily, awkwardly tugging the tail of his shirt down her as she did so. With her hands stretched out in front of her, Bo familiarized herself with the layout of the lav.
“Oh you’ve got Kiara blood, no doubt, and ties to Altair,” he said, startling her with his nearness. “But you’re a Second Sector Consular Guard pilot.”
Bo stopped, suddenly disoriented and afraid to move. How had she given herself away?
“Must you always move so quietly?”
“Occupational hazard,” he said.
His hand cupped her elbow and he guided her to the washbasin.
“They likely tapped you for this mission because of your Kiara ancestry. Your client really is your uncle, probably your father’s brother, given the nature of the genetic similarities between you. Give me time and I’ll be able to determine your planet of origin. Once I have that, tracking down your service records won’t be that difficult.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A warning chill rippled down her spine. So that’s what Edge had meant when he said Darien was investigating her from every angle. This guy was good even for a Predator. Bo forced herself to clean her hands as though nothing were amiss.
“I will fi
nd out who you are,” he said. “You can count on that.”
She fumbled around the counter, looking for some way to dry her hands. He took her hands in his and gently patted them with a towel.
“If I’m going to find something about you that I won’t like, you need to tell me now what it is. You don’t want me to find out on my own.”
Bo swallowed hard. Her guilty conscience pricked her, urging her to tell him everything. She took a deep breath. She wasn’t some Joy Babe, nor was she a junior officer in over her head on a covert mission. She was The Barron. Too much rode on the success of this operation.
She pulled her hands from his and a cool smile curved her lips. “Thank you for the warning,” she said. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to find out on your own. You are good, but you don’t exactly inspire trust.” She held up one hand. “Please don’t misunderstand, I appreciate the fact that you’ve saved my life. What I don’t trust is that you’ve pumped me so full of date-rape drugs and other mind-altering substances that I don’t know reality from altered perception. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll keep my own counsel and deal with any consequences that may come out of it.”
“Can you tell me one thing?”
“What is that?”
“Am I going to regret helping you?”
“I don’t know. What does your partner say?”
He took her by the arm and led her out of the lav. “I don’t have a partner.”
“Sure you do,” she said. “He goes by the name Chase. He’s tall, blond, very handsome. He actually has manners, unlike you.”
“Chase is my brother. He’s a civilian. Whatever you may think of me, and you’d probably be right, Chase is a good man. He would never hurt a woman.”
“But not you?”
He chuckled. “Haven’t you noticed? I’m a bad man.”
Bo smiled at him. “So you are,” she said. “Drugging helpless females…”
“How else am I going to keep you in my bed against your will?”