“Shalssit. That bastard wouldn’t give you directions to the sunrise.”
Sam grunted with something less than amusement. “No kidding. But if he wants me to make that rendezvous in the Norian Sector, he’ll have to agree to it. We need repairs.”
“Expensive repairs. In a closed port. How do you know Vort can even get you onto LinHo?”
“He’s got the contracts to supply synthohol to what passes for drinking establishments on that rock.”
Mo laughed. “What? All three of them? What kind of profit can there be in that?”
“None. It’s the smuggling trade that brings the profit—off-the-books slaves, real liquor, drugs, both recreational and medicinal.”
His XO scowled, and Sam nodded. “Yeah. Vort’s a real sweetheart.”
“He wouldn’t stop at bounty hunting, then, I imagine.”
“No.” Sam suddenly felt very weary. “I just have to get in and out of LinHo before he makes a move.”
Mo watched him with his ebony jaw clenched tight.
“I know, I know.” Sam shook his head. The last place he’d wanted to go and he would be there in less than eight hours. “I have to go send that message, then I’m done. I’ll see you at the service.” With a final glance at his crew, the captain of the Shadowhawk left the bridge, thinking only of how soon he could put his arms around his woman and sink into oblivion.
The Gray captain was in a howling rage, though there was no judging it from his placid, moon-like face. His large, liquid black eyes blinked with seeming calm over his tiny, upturned mouth, and he stood nearly motionless as he addressed the two Thranes towering above his desk.
Ah, but his aura! Zetana thought. The captain of the Minertsan cruiser Tifan was not bothering to hide his emotions; the energy around his small body was awash in the colors of blood and deepest nightmares.
--My ship is damaged! I have lost many crewmen! Not only have you failed in your mission to infiltrate the Kinz factory, but we have lost a shipload of valuable slaves. My superiors will no doubt insist that I bind you in chains and deliver you for trial for your part in this. Then they will have my head!
--Captain, the loss of the Fleeflek is indeed regrettable, but the ship was an enemy combatant. And Captain Murphy has been terrorizing your space trade for years. Zetana refused to be intimidated by this slimehole. You have won a brave and difficult battle, and eliminated this threat to your profits! He will steal your slaves no more. Your crewmen died in a glorious cause. They are heroes to the Consortium, are they not?
The captain considered this, his aura lightening to a mere thunderous gray. Perhaps it could be made to seem so.
--Of course. The Shadowhawk has been destroyed—by the Tifan! There is no reason to think the mission is a failure. The slaves bound for Kinz must be replaced—and quickly. We’ll be among that shipment.
--But where will we get such a shipment? And repairs to my ship? And my superiors—
Rex’s confidence bordered on arrogance. I can arrange a trade with some allies on Paradon, near the C3 jump. It will mean a few days’ delay, but I believe you’ll find my friends reasonable.
The captain’s aura flashed dark again, but Zetana didn’t miss the tinge of green that indicated fear. She suppressed her own smirk.
--Paradon! Murderers and thieves! You expect me to trust them?
--Engineers, mechanics and traders! Rex spread his hands. And you can trust us. While your ship is being repaired I will negotiate the purchase of a small shipment of slaves for delivery to Kinz. It won’t replace what was aboard the Fleeflek, but it will be welcome under the circumstances. The profit will be all yours, and Zetana and I will be able to infiltrate the new shipment as before.
An unreadable mix of murky color swirled about the Minertsan’s body. Zetana reined in an urge to reach out and grab the creature’s limp little gray arm and snatch his thoughts from his bulbous head.
--You expect me to believe your ‘friends’ can produce a shipment of slaves out of the mud—not to mention the parts and expertise I need to repair my engines?
Zetana’s bondmate was unperturbed. Captain. My friends can produce virtually anything out of the ‘mud,’ as you say, of Paradon. He grinned. For a price.
The worm drew himself up. And if I don’t wish to pay their price?
Zetana lost patience. Then they will kill you. It’s either deal with Paradon or crawl back to the Consortium at half-ion speed, your mission a failure and with no proof of your great triumph over the Shadowhawk. I suspect things would not go well for you under those circumstances, Captain.
Angry red boiled through the midnight black of the captain’s aura once more. Very well. We set course for Paradon. But I warn you I have my own skills in negotiation. If the price of repairs is too steep, I will sell you to the highest bidder on that piece of stinking rock and take my chances back home.
Zetana smiled. Of course the little algae-eater had no chance of following through on his threat. But she liked him for having the tiny balls to make it.
Rayna woke in the semi-dark of the cabin, cocooned in the heavy warmth of Sam’s arms. He slept on, undisturbed, curled at her back, but though it had only been a few hours since they had fallen exhausted into bed together, Rayna’s worries had pulled her out of sleep.
They were going to LinHo after all. Daniel was still in place dirtside; he had the contacts that could get her into the Kinz facility. The mission could go on. She’d be able to do the job she’d come here to do. She should feel great about that; she should be jumping for joy.
Instead she was miserable.
Rayna would gladly stay in this bunk with Sam Murphy for the next twentydays and Rescue be damned. Let Daniel go inside that freaking weapons factory and work 18 hours a day; let him sleep in the stinking, cold slave barracks, piled up with a couple dozen other lice-infested bodies just to keep warm. Let him fight for food and a place in the pecking order until the others began to respect him, in the long, dragging time before the work could even begin. Shit!
All she wanted was Sam. The one thing she could never have.
She’d been a fool to think—well, what was the use? She had a job to do, an important job, one that mattered. People depended on her to do it, lives depended on it. She couldn’t just quit.
And Sam—he may have been a pirate, but his crew depended on him just as much as her partners depended on her. Their lives were tied to his; they respected him, even loved him. Rescue was wrong about him; he did as much good in his own maverick way as they did. She couldn’t ask him to give up his world for hers any more than she could for him.
So they were stuck. And LinHo would be goodbye, probably forever. God, that hurt.
“What’s wrong, Little Bit?” Sam’s breath was warm in her ear. “Can’t sleep?”
She turned in his arms and reached up to touch his face. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“No.” He took a breath. “I have my own reasons for lying awake tonight.”
His lost crew. His damaged ship. A ceremony to send his shipmates and friends on their way to the next world in a few hours. Rayna could feel the hurt squeezing his chest with every beat of his heart beneath her hand.
“I know. I’m sorry, sweets.”
His fingers stroked down her cheek to lift her chin. “A few days ago I didn’t even know you. Now I can’t imagine . . . ” His gaze held hers. “Tell me you’re not going to do something crazy on LinHo.”
She shook free of him. “I don’t want to talk about LinHo.”
He pulled away and sat up. “We’ll hit orbit in less than six hours. When exactly did you plan to talk about it?”
“When I no longer have a choice.”
“Consider that now, Rayna. We’ve got things to settle.”
There was no trace of humor in the set of Sam’s features. There was only raw emotion—anger and determination and something that looked too much like fear. Her heart stumbled in response.
“There’s nothing to talk ab
out, Sam. I won’t know what will happen until I get to LinHo and make contact with my partner.”
“So you’re going through with this.”
Tell him you don’t want to. “You know I have to.”
“Damn it, Rayna!” Sam threw off the covers and launched himself from the bunk. He began a clenched pacing in the confined space between the bunk and the hatch leading to the head. “This mission was a suicide run from the get-go; it’s brought nothing but disaster onto my ship, and you think you can just carry on with it like nothing’s happened? The sabotage, the Thrane assassin, the Gray ship—none of that’s coincidence, you know. It’s connected to you and LinHo. Your cover’s blown, Rayna! The mission’s over!”
“My cover?” She’d been running through this argument in her head for the last hour. He wouldn’t win it. “First of all, everyone on that Gray ship thinks I’m dead. Secondly, they all work for the Minertsan military. The LinHo factory is producing weapons for the Gray rebels—the other side. Those slaves were bound for a rebel factory, so the Thranes onboard the Fleeflek were working undercover, like me. Who’s going to tell?”
“We don’t know that, Ray. All we know is that we’ve been beat to shit and barely survived to tell the tale. You’re walking into a deathtrap on LinHo, and you’re walking into it blind.”
“I’ll know more when I talk to Daniel.” She stood up and blocked Sam’s restless pacing. “I know what I’m doing, Sam. It’s my job, like being captain of this ship is yours. You have to trust me.”
“I do!” He gripped her arms, fought for control. Then, more quietly, “I do. You saved my ship yesterday. You’ve shown more guts and brains in the few days I’ve known you than some men I’ve known for ten circuits.” He stopped, swallowed hard. “But you can’t control everything, Ray. No matter what you do, sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes people die.”
She knew it was true, but she had to convince him otherwise. “Not this time. Not me. And not you.”
He took her face between his large hands and brought her mouth to his. His kiss was warm and soft, his breath sighing across her lips. “Rayna . . .”
She put her arms around his neck and nestled near to him, needing these last moments of closeness with him. He bent and lifted her into his embrace, her legs circling his waist, as though she weighed nothing. He deepened his kiss, and it was as if she could taste his longing and desperation. She answered him back with her own as the heat rose between them. The ache between her legs became a molten throb. She moved, seeking relief. He groaned, and pressed her against the hard ridge of flesh that marked his arousal.
Yes, there! God, again! She attacked his mouth, spearing deep while she moved against him and was vaguely aware of Sam staggering under the assault. But, no, he was just maneuvering closer to the bunk, and now she was standing, ripping at his clothes and hers until they were naked and falling into the bunk.
Then he was hovering over her, his eyes asking permission, and God, yes, don’t waste time! She was wet and ready and when he joined them, Jesus! he felt like heaven inside her. He thrust deep, setting every nerve ending alight. Again and again, bringing her to the edge of pain. Fire swept through her and she came, a wordless scream torn from her throat.
She clung to him, urging him deeper, harder as the first orgasm rolled through her and blossomed into the second with hardly a breath between them. She sobbed his name, lost now in the sweet oblivion of connection, her body to his, her heart to his. They moved together and with every stroke she could feel his barely-held control, the quivering tension in the muscles of his thighs under her hands as she pulled him into her, the sweat slicking the skin of his back. His heart hammered; she could feel it against her ribs. He groaned, close, so close to his own heaven, and the vibrations filled her chest.
Her body responded with a fresh surge of desire, the blood running hot in her veins. His strokes were coming faster, harder as he came to the end of his control, and she couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe. She could only hold on as the beautiful, blinding pleasure blasted through her once more. Sam moaned and drove forward, every muscle tensing as he found his own release.
For several long moments neither of them moved. Rayna hardly felt capable of it. And to speak would only break the spell they had woven with their bodies and their sweat and their passion. She didn’t want this moment to end.
Sam lifted his head at last and shifted his body to her side. He kissed her, a tender brushing of his warm lips against hers.
“I love you, Little Bit. No matter what happens tomorrow, that won’t change.”
She looked up at him, at his strong jaw and his earnest green eyes, and tried to memorize every detail. She told him she loved him too, but she was all too aware that wouldn’t be enough. They might love each other, but after tomorrow, they would likely never see each other again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Haven’t seen much of you lately.” Lainie caught Rayna in the corridor not far from the D-mat room. She didn’t look happy. “Is it true what everyone’s been saying?”
Rayna swallowed a curse. Could it really be all over the ship already? She would have thought with all that had been going on, people would have more to worry about than who was in the captain’s cabin and what they were doing there.
She stalled. “What do you mean?”
“You’re leaving the ship today?” Lainie saw her expression—relief, Rayna guessed—and scowled. “You could have told somebody.”
“This is my stop.”
“LinHo? You’ve got to be kidding! It’s the worst ass-dump in the galaxy!” Lainie’s gaze sharpened to a knife-edge. “What the hell kind of business could anyone have here?”
Rayna grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bulkhead, out of the path of several crew members coming down the corridor. “Whatever business would be mine, don’t you think?”
Lainie’s mobile face was set in stone. “There are only two reasons anyone comes to LinHo. They’re brought here as slaves. Or they have something to do with Kinz. I don’t see any chains on you.”
“Your whole ship is here, Lainie!” Rayna was backpedaling, trying to distract the kid from the truth.
“My captain is trying to get us away from here as fast as he can. Why would you want to stay?”
God, the kid is as stubborn as a Meringean stump-puller. “I can’t tell you. This wasn’t my plan, but it’s the best I can do under the circumstances.”
“And what about Cap?”
Rayna’s eyebrows shot up. “What about him?”
“You’re going to tell me he’s happy about this?”
“You don’t even know what ‘this’ is!” Her frustration with this conversation had hit its limit. “I’m going. Nice knowing you, kid.”
“You think you can do something about Kinz.” The kid shook her head, hard. “You can’t.”
“What d’you mean, I can’t?”
“I mean, don’t. I mean, if you go in there you’ll never come out. I mean, if you do this, whatever it is, you’re a shalssiti idiot, I don’t care who you work for or what they pay you or what they hope to get out of it. Kinz is hell, that’s all.”
“Lainie—”
But the girl shook off Rayna’s grip and fled down the corridor, leaving Rayna to wonder how a 17-year-old former street urchin could know so much about the Kinz weapons factory.
Sam hadn’t been inclined to like this, and now he was sure.
Rayna had insisted on meeting her contact in the lowest dive down the dirtiest alley in LinHo’s only settlement (a town so far undistinguished by any name). The place stank of sour synthohol, mushroom beer, sweat and urine. Drinkers shrank into the dark corners, shoulders hunched and eyes too aware.
The man was waiting for them at a corner table of his own, and when Rayna headed in his direction, Sam’s pulse kicked up a notch. “Daniel’s Pataran?”
Ray shot him a quelling glance. “Half. So?”
Sam shook his head. Just not what he’d
expected. He’d thought maybe a pale, skinny type, full of the earnest fire of well-meaning righteousness. This guy looked like he could throw a punch. He looked like he wanted to throw a punch.
The man stood as they reached the table, distrust twisting the handsome features of his dark face. Not as tall as Mo, but tall enough.
“Who the hell is this?” The question was for Rayna, but his bright blue eyes never left Sam.
“Hello to you, too.” Rayna sank into a chair. “This is Sam Murphy, captain of the Shadowhawk. Anything else is none of your business.” She looked up at Daniel, who still towered over her. “You stand there any longer and you’ll attract attention.”
He sat, still staring. Sam did the same, giving no ground. He moved his chair close to Rayna’s and watched as Daniel’s gaze narrowed. What the hell? Sam sought an answer from Rayna, but she refused to look at him.
“I assume you’ve been brought up to speed,” she said to Daniel.
The man at last took his attention off Sam and turned to her. “The latest ion packet from HQ says some idiot fucked up half a circuit of planning by ‘rescuing’ your cover ship.” He glared across the table. “This the idiot?”
Sam leaned forward. “Look—Daniel, is it? You may be Ray’s friend, but I’m not feeling the love here. Your cover ship was a slaver. I don’t tolerate slavers any more than you do.”
“Oh, yeah? So where are those slaves, Captain—you sell ’em?”
Sam grabbed the man’s shirt, and only Rayna’s swift intercession stopped him from slamming Daniel’s head into the table. “Sam, don’t! He doesn’t know. And we can’t afford to cause a scene. Back off. Both of you.”
Sam released the man and sat back, the adrenaline still running hot in his bloodstream. Daniel shrugged his collar back in place and turned back to Rayna.
“What don’t I know? Since apparently it’s a lot.”
“Two Thrane agents were undercover with me on the Fleeflek. When Sam boarded the slaver, they took their own measures to try to get it back. When that didn’t work, they contacted their friends on a Gray cruiser for pickup, sabotaged the Shadowhawk and escaped onto the Gray ship. The cruiser attacked the ’hawk, and the Fleeflek was destroyed in the battle. All the slaves and 19 of Sam’s crew were lost.”
Fools Rush In (The Interstellar Rescue Series Book 3) Page 16