Sovran's Pawn (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 1)

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Sovran's Pawn (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 1) Page 15

by JC Cassels


  “I’m sorry about this, Royce, but I don’t see how I’m going to be able to deliver on my part of the plan,” she said, leaning heavily on him. “Flyboy here says it could be days before I get my sight back, if it comes back at all.”

  “You’ve got a bigger problem than that,” Blade said.

  “What would that be?” Royce stepped back and let them pass.

  “I’m pretty sure there is no phase weapon.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bo stopped and lifted her face. “No weapon? There has to be a weapon.” She turned her head in search of her uncle. “Royce?”

  Her uncle righted the chair that had been knocked over in their earlier struggle. “Have a seat, Princess, and let’s hear the man out.”

  Royce waited while Blade settled her into the chair before interrogating him.

  “What makes you think there’s no weapon?”

  Buying himself a few seconds to gather his thoughts, Blade went over to the dresser and opened the drawer holding the bottle of Old Arturian he’d smuggled on board. Without asking, he poured a healthy amount into three glasses. He handed one to Royce as he passed, then pressed another into Bo’s hand. He lifted his own glass to his lips and took a drink before answering.

  “I had a chance to play Tennova in private a couple of days ago,” he said. “He doesn’t know Phase Theory from Bumper Ball.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  Blade smiled and shook his head. “Believe me, I know when somebody’s sticking to a script. I questioned him about Phase Theory and I thought he was going to blow a head gasket trying to improvise.”

  “So you don’t think there is any phase weapon?”

  “Not unless Tennova is someone’s front. But that still wouldn’t explain the dodgy agents – no offense.”

  Royce’s lips curled in a reluctant smile. “None taken.”

  “Dodgy agents?” Bo echoed.

  “Sorry, love. Every agent on this assignment has some kind of black mark on his record – court-martial offenses.”

  “Even you?”

  “Especially me.”

  She swirled the drink in her glass as she contemplated her next words. “What were you court-martialed for?”

  “I haven’t exactly been court-martialed. I’ve been threatened. When I left the IC a couple of years ago, I didn’t exactly have permission to go.”

  Royce eyed him. “You’re a deserter.”

  Blade grinned. “That all depends on who you talk to. Some say yes, others...” he shrugged.

  “Why’d you do it, kid?”

  Blade’s humor faded. He clenched his jaw so tightly that a muscle jumped in his cheek.

  Royce’s demeanor softened. “Never mind. I know the look. You don’t have to say any more.” He nodded towards Bo. “I facilitated her escape. Lucky for me, I’ve got friends in high places, or I’d have been executed in her place. As it is, I think I can kiss my pension good-bye.” The two men exchanged a knowing look and a small smile. Inner Circle pensions were legendary. Everyone talked about them, but few had actually lived to see them. “You say every Agent here has a black mark?”

  Shrugging off the dark cloud that threatened to consume him whenever he thought about his reasons for going AWOL, Blade nodded. “I cross-referenced the passenger lists with the IC database. You were the only agent whose records I couldn’t access. Marissa…Bo came up as a legitimate Joy Babe. Hell of it is if I’d been able to access your records, I wouldn’t have been so determined to find out who she really was.”

  Royce’s speculative stare raked him. “No, you’d have still dug for information on her,” he said. “She’s under your skin. She’s been under your skin since Cormoran.” Folding his arms across his chest, he studied Blade. “What? You think I haven’t had my eye on you? Tell me, kid – how does a deserter manage to have your kind of clearances?”

  Blade shrugged. “You’re not the only one with friends in high places.”

  Bo frowned over her drink. “What is this stuff?”

  “Old Arturian.”

  Bo wrinkled her nose in distaste and lifted the pungent drink to her lips. She tossed it back in a single swallow and coughed delicately behind her hand.

  “Old Arturian tastes worse than rocket fuel,” she groused, handing the glass back to him.

  “I’m not running a bar, lady. It’s what I’ve smuggled aboard in my luggage. Want another?”

  She shook her head. “No, I know where to go if I want my bones gooey.”

  He grinned and set the glass back on the dresser.

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “Why send a bunch of disgraced agents after something as risky as a phase weapon?”

  “Exactly,” Royce said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The phase weapon is a setup,” Blade said. He looked to Royce for approval to continue. At the other man’s nod, Blade took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s an assassination.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Do you know who the target is?”

  Blade turned a pleading look to Royce.

  “Yeah,” Royce said. Kneeling down in front of her, he took both her hands in his. “You’re the target, Princess. They want to kill you. If their man can’t do it, he’s going to expose you to a ship full of government agents desperate for a big score to salvage what’s left of their careers and let them do it for him. Remember those guys who attacked you in the fitness center?”

  “She was attacked in the fitness center?”

  Royce shrugged. “She took care of them.”

  “She took care of them? How many were there?”

  “Only three.”

  “Royce took two of them out,” Bo said. “And the other guy got clobbered by one of his buddies, so I really didn’t do anything.”

  Blade’s lips twitched in amusement. “It makes a better story if you took all three of them out yourself.”

  “But I didn’t…”

  “Princess, surviving in the Sub-socia is all about perception and reputation. You were more than capable of taking all three of them out on your own. If you tell it that way, the next greedy bastards to hear about the price on your head will think twice about coming after you.”

  “Royce…”

  “Your uncle is right, Barron. If you don’t establish a formidable reputation, you’re going to be under constant attack. Image and attitude are everything, it’s the second law of strategy. You have to break your enemy’s will to fight without fighting him. If you’re perceived as invincible in every arena, bounty hunters will go after easier marks.”

  “You sound like Galen.”

  Blade shot a questioning look at Royce.

  “Her regent,” he said. “Galen’s my cousin. He’s been tutoring her in politics and warfare since my brother…” his voice trailed off and he swallowed hard, unable to finish.

  Blade nodded his understanding.

  “This is only the beginning, Bo,” Blade said. “Whoever was in that methane suit knew exactly who you were. He went straight for you. They don’t want you getting off this boat alive.”

  She swallowed hard. “Papa…”

  Royce’s hands tightened over hers. “Now, Princess…”

  “Royce, they never intended to give him back! They know there’s no weapon…”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t stay here, I’ve got to try to find him before…”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Royce said. “If you leave this ship before their deadline, they’ll kill him – if they haven’t already.”

  “I can go,” Blade said. “Give me your intel and Chase and I can pick up the trail – try to find him before they get to you.”

  Bo lifted her face to him. “What about the trizian? You did say you were weaning me off.”

  “Your uncle can dose you,” he said. “I’ll give you the schedule and you can…”

  “No.” Royce shook his head and squeezed her hands before coming to his fe
et. “I’m not a medic. I don’t have anything close to your training and she’s too important to take a chance. I’ll go. She can stay with you.”

  Blade took a step back. “She can?”

  “What’s the matter? You only interested in her when it’s kidnapping?”

  “No…”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “No problem, I’m just surprised. She’s The Barron. She shouldn’t be going anywhere without a Black Wing security detail.”

  “We’re a little short of Black Wing security details here, kid.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t know anything about me. She’s marked for termination…”

  “Are you planning on killing her?”

  “No, but…”

  “But what?” Royce glared at him. “You’ve kept her safe so far. She trusts you.”

  “Well, I think you’re being a little careless with her safety,” Blade said. “When you came in here, you were ready to kill me to get her back. Now you’re willing to leave me in charge of her. How do you know you can trust me?”

  “I don’t,” Royce said. “But she does trust you. And you’ve got it backwards. She’s in charge of you. She may not be able to see, but her instincts are good.”

  “She’s right here, you know,” Bo said.

  Royce patted her on the cheek. “I know, Princess. It won’t hurt to shake things up a little bit and throw a couple of curves at them. Who knows? With a little more training, that brother of yours would make a decent agent. You two would make a good team.”

  “No thanks,” Blade said. “I’m trying to get out of the IC, not build a career there.”

  “I meant you and Bo would make a good team.”

  Her cheeks pinkened at the thought. She ducked her head. The two men exchanged an amused look. Blade’s lips quirked in a lopsided grin and he shook his head.

  “You’re not playing matchmaker, are you, Royce?”

  “Now why would I do a fool thing like that?” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Although, now that I think about it, you’re the first man I’ve met who isn’t a Barron who seems able to manage her, even if you had to drug her to do it.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “You’re not the worst thing she’s ever picked for herself.”

  “Royce!” She blushed furiously.

  Blade grinned, enjoying the show.

  “It could be worse,” Royce went on. “There’s this one guy she got all moony over last year.”

  “Oh?” Blade bit back a grin, enjoying her discomfort. What kind of youthful transgression could this repressed young lady have committed?

  “Uncle Royce, please…”

  “Some new hot shot holofeature actor, wasn’t he?” Royce canted his head, a wicked gleam lit his dark eyes.

  Blade’s humor faded as a sense of foreboding overtook him.

  “What was his name? Bevan? Bevis? Beryl? Some pretentious fake name those artsy Cormoran-types tend to favor. What was his name?”

  Bo buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Blade Devon,” she said through her fingers.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Royce grinned at Blade. “Blade Devon.” He said the name slowly, deliberately, enunciating each syllable. With a careless shrug, the older man’s stare flicked over him. “It could be a lot worse. Instead of leaving her with you, I could be leaving her with – Blade Devon.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Blade shook his head. “Thanks Royce, I appreciate the vote of confidence.” He shook his head, unable the help a self-deprecating smile. “You know, I don’t have many friends like you… thank the Maker.”

  “Yeah, that third rate actor is probably some amoral bastard,” Royce went on. “A guy like that probably wouldn’t think anything about taking advantage of a girl in Bo’s condition… Yeah. That would just be too bad.”

  “Why is that, Royce?”

  “Then I’d have to kill him and disappoint all his little fans.”

  “That would be unfortunate.”

  “Do you two mind?” Bo climbed to her feet. “Royce, that’s enough! You’ve made your point! Please stop embarrassing me!”

  “Sorry, Princess.”

  Royce didn’t look very sorry. In fact he grinned hugely at Blade.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway, baby girl. Darien here is a far cry from some holofeature actor. He’s a real live IC Agent, complete with Predator certification. Maybe when this is all over, Darien will get you a date with that Blade guy so you can compare an IC Agent with someone who just pretends to be one in a holofeature.”

  “Maybe I will,” Blade said, taking Bo’s outstretched hand. He pulled her to his side and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “In the mean time, why don’t you go make arrangements with your extraction team. You do have an extraction plan in place, don’t you? Or do you need some help with that, old man? I have some ideas for helping you off the ship.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” Royce said. “I’ll go take care of that and send her things over here.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit, Princess.”

  “No rush,” Blade said with a smile. “Take your time.”

  “Yeah, I need you to come with me,” Royce said. “Excuse us, Princess.”

  Bo’s hand tightened on his arm. “But…”

  “I’m not going to hurt him. We just need to go over some IC stuff that’s need-to-know.”

  Taking the cue, Blade gave her hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he said, extricating himself from her grasp.

  He quickly followed Royce out into the corridor. When the door slid shut behind them, Royce jerked his head towards Chase’s stateroom.

  “Send your brother in to keep an eye on her,” he said. “I need you to come with me.”

  With a nod, Blade moved next door to his brother’s door and signaled for entry. Chase opened the door immediately.

  Looking Blade over quickly, relief swept over his face. “Thank the Maker!” Chase said. “I was beginning to get worried.” Looking past Blade, he froze when he noticed Royce in the corridor. “Is everything okay?”

  Blade flashed a quick reassuring smile. “Yeah, we’ve gotten everything worked out,” he said. “I need you to go in there and wait with Marissa until I get back.”

  “Dev, what’s going on?”

  Blade glanced over his shoulder at Royce.

  “I’m a lousy Five-Point player,” Royce said. “Your brother won Marissa’s contract from me. I figured out who he was. For some reason, he doesn’t want her to know, so thanks to his generosity, I’m going somewhere else to play.”

  “Her contract? Is Marissa okay with this?”

  Blade nodded. “She’s fine with it. I just have to go get her contract and her things. I want you to stay with her while I’m gone.”

  “Dev, it’s slavery,” Chase said. “You’re talking about buying and selling a sentient being. It’s not right.”

  “We’ll talk about the morality of it later, Chase. Just go stay with her, please.”

  “What do you plan on doing with her contract?”

  Blade shrugged and looked helplessly at Royce. “I don’t know,” he said. “Cash out of it, maybe. Look, just go wait with her until I get back, please. Don’t do anything stupid and keep your hands to yourself. I’ll be back shortly, and by the Maker do not tell her my real name.”

  With one final meaningful look at his brother, he followed Royce to the bank of lifts.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The door slid open and Bo turned in her seat. “Flyboy?”

  Though she sensed she was no longer alone, there was no response from the door. It closed again and she heard footsteps slowly approach her. Bo eased herself out of the chair and turned to face the threat.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded.

  “Chase,” he replied clearing his throat. “He asked me to stay with you. I didn’t realize you’d be awake.”

  At the sound of his mellow baritone, Bo felt her tension ease
. She smiled a welcome and held out her hand to him. “I’m glad you’re here,” she confessed. “Thank you for shoving me in the lav.”

  He moved quickly to take her hand in both of his. “I am so very sorry for all of this,” he said. “I wanted to take you to the infirmary right away, but – well, he…”

  Bo rested her free hand against his chest and felt his heart rate increase at her touch. “Your brother saved my life,” she said. “I’m not going to question his methods.”

  “Maybe – maybe you should,” Chase said carefully. “Look, I’m not sure what’s going on anymore. Do you know where he’s gone? He’s gone to get your contract from your client. He said he won you in a Five-Point game. I asked him what he intended to do with your contract and he said he was going to cash it out, whatever that means.”

  She felt the anxiety radiating off him in waves. His grip on her hands tightened painfully.

  “I’ve got to get you out of here,” Chase said. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want to know. All I know is that you don’t need to be anywhere near him. You’re a person, not a commodity.”

  Bo smiled up at him and patted his hands. His grip on her eased.

  “I’m a Joy Babe, Chase, not a sex slave,” she reasoned. “My contract can’t be transferred without my approval.”

  “Then let him transfer it to me,” he said. “If you just do that I’ll consider the contract fulfilled and you won’t have to do this anymore.”

  He sounded so earnest and so gallant that Bo couldn’t hide her amusement. Maker help her, she liked this man. She knew her uncle well enough to know that he’d been goading her flyboy into saying or doing something imprudent, and he hadn’t taken the bait. Like a good IC agent, he kept his emotional reactions under tight control. Chase on the other hand wore his emotions on his sleeve. She found his openness refreshing.

  “Marissa, you’re better than this,” he pleaded. “You don’t have to whore yourself to men who’ll never see you for anything more than a contract.”

  At the sound of her mother’s name, Bo stiffened and tried to pull her hand from his grasp. His hold on her tightened. Did her father ever say those same words to her mother?

 

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