The Key

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The Key Page 37

by Pauline Baird Jones


  They climbed in and Sara touched the inside panel. She knew it was going to go down. She didn’t expect only the bottom to descend…lowering them into a completely clear tube.

  “Okay, that’s a bit…disturbing.” She looked at her watch. Looked like their rate of descent was being slowed to allow for changes in pressure. When they came up, they’d need to account for it, too.

  She reached out and touched the tube. It was…flexible. Okay, that was a bit disturbing, too. She looked up and saw something swimming toward her. It looked rather shark-like. Its mouth opened, upping the resemblance.

  “Henderson?” Sara’s voice sounded a bit thin. “Is that a…shark?”

  “Hotel Foxtrot Sierra!”

  “Charlie Foxtrot,” Givens added, his voice a bit high pitched. Sanchez started to cuss in Spanish.

  It hit the tube and they all staggered…but the tube held. Not quite a Charlie Foxtrot, Sara thought, trying to start breathing again. At least she wasn’t thinking about Fyn or broken hearts.

  “I sure hope this is worth it,” Henderson said. “There’s another one.”

  By the time they reached the ocean floor, about twenty of the creatures were circling the tube, taking turns bumping it and trying to bite them. It was a relief when it slid into an all-metal tube again.

  As Sara started to reach for the release, Henderson grabbed her arm.

  “Any way to tell if it’s still water-tight on the other side?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He pointed down. There wasn’t a lot, but there was a bit of water on the floor. She hadn’t seen a problem up top when she’d studied the consoles, but that assumed all the sensors still worked.

  Only one way to find out. They all inhaled. Like it would help.

  She touched the panel and the door slid open.

  And they didn’t die.

  Bravo Zulu.

  It did smell damp. She pulled out her flashlight and shone it around. There was skim of water on the floor and some green on the walls.

  That was bad.

  “Where now?” Henderson’s voice echoed hollowly down the corridor.

  “Straight ahead.” Sara stepped out and the lights flickered twice, then came on and stayed on. She looked down. She was standing in a small puddle of water. She hurriedly stepped out.

  Now she walked forward, trying to avoid the puddles, just in case. The first hanger should be coming up soon…she stopped by the door. She looked at Henderson, then reached out and touched the panel.

  This door slid back. The inside was deeply dark, but at least the ocean didn’t rush out and crush them.

  Sara stepped inside and it lit up, this time without the flickers.

  “Holy Foxtrot Sierra,” Henderson said, with slow emphasis. “That is one, big ass ship.”

  Sara had to agree. It had to be at least the size of the Doolittle at its center point, but it smoothly thinned out into a shape that was…clam-like. It squatted mutely in the center of the hanger, looking as unwilling to open up as a real clam.

  Henderson looked up. “How did it get here? And how did they plan to get it out?”

  Sara wasn’t sure he wanted to know that. “Let’s see if we can turn this bad boy on.”

  “Turn it on?” Henderson looked at her like she was crazy. “I can’t see how we get inside.”

  She ignored him. “There should be four, maybe five more of these hangers. Can you guys check them out?”

  She felt him looking at her and gave him a quick smile.

  “I’ll be fine. Call me on the radio, okay?”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Sara heard them walk away as she moved toward the ship…the Kalifa. Not a name you could say in a hurry.

  She moved around to the rear and found the hatch. No way to tell if it had always been open or just opened for her. She walked aboard and it welcomed her with the usual light show. Once on the bridge, she did a quick check of the systems. It still worked. Holy Foxtrot Sierra.

  It took half an hour to determine the four big ships still worked. The fighters took longer, but with the four of them on it, they were ready to report in at the end of a long two hours.

  Sara activated communications. “Home Plate? This is Batter.”

  “What you got, Batter?”

  “Home run all the way, sir.”

  A pause. “That’s good news.”

  “Requesting permission to begin Operation Outfield, sir.”

  “Permission granted.”

  Henderson gave her uneasy look. “What did he just tell us to do, ma’am?”

  Sara looked at him. “We’re going to fly one.” She turned back to the controls. “You should get your guys on board.”

  “Right. Where are we going to fly it?”

  Sara looked at him again. “To the Doolittle.”

  He cussed without the euphemisms.

  Sara kind of shrugged. “Yeah.” She smiled at him. “On the upside, you only have to make it to the surface.”

  * * * *

  “Make sure your tray tables are put away and your chairs are in the locked, upright position,” Sara murmured. This was either going to go really well…or really badly. She wasn’t sensing a lot of…support from the rear either.

  She started the propulsion module. That was the easy part.

  “Cheer up, guys. It will only hurt for a minute if it doesn’t work.”

  She activated the phase cloak. If it worked, they should be able to pass through the solid roof. If it banged into the ceiling, she’d know it didn’t.

  The throttle controlled lift, forward, back and side-to-side and down movement. All she had to do was move it the right way. No problem…

  She eased it slightly and the ship edged forward a few feet. Okay, that was forward. She found back and down. The guys didn’t like down. Probably because she banged them against the floor. Side-to-side made them nervous, too.

  “Could we try up now, ma’am,” Henderson asked.

  He might be sorry.

  “Okay.” She moved the throttle and the ship began to rise.

  It was about then that they began to wonder how the ship was going to get out.

  “Shouldn’t something open, ma’am?” That was Givens.

  Sanchez didn’t talk much, but Sara sensed his support for the question.

  “If we opened something, water would rush in and crush all the little ships,” Sara said, a little absent-mindedly. If they were going to hit something, it was going to happen in five seconds.

  …four…three…two…

  She tensed. She couldn’t help it. Apparently the guys couldn’t help it either. All three of them were cussing a blue streak.

  The ship went right through it.

  The cussing didn’t stop. It might have gotten worse.

  They were in the ocean now. She looked at her watch. They needed to stop twice on the way up.

  The three men didn’t like the stops. It didn’t help that the shark creatures kept swimming through the ship, as if they sensed they were there. One went right through Sara. Even with weird the new normal, that was different.

  The guys alternated between cussing and praying. Someone said hallelujah when they broke the surface of the water.

  When she touched down in front of command, she’d never seen three guys more motivated to leave. Henderson did turn and wish her luck. He sounded like he thought she’d need it.

  He was probably right.

  * * * *

  Halliwell, Briggs and Carey waited in the shuttle bay. Halliwell was the only one who knew why. Everyone else had been cleared out.

  Carey kind of looked around. “What are we supposed to see, sir?”

  As the last word left his mouth, a ship…materialized in front of them.

  Carey stared at it for a long moment. “Oh, that.”

  “Damn.” Briggs walked up and poked it. “Damn.”

  Carey looked at Halliwell. “Can I try it?”
>
  Halliwell sighed in silent relief. “That’s the plan, Colonel.”

  A ramp lowered from the rear and Donovan emerged.

  “Any problems, Captain?”

  “No, sir. Our guys should be able to fly them, though the…ascent is pretty interesting.”

  “Good enough.” He turned to Carey. “Get some pilots together. We got a bunch of them to bring up.”

  Carey grinned. “Sweet.”

  * * * *

  Sara brought the Garradian fighter ship into the repair bay, turned off the cloak and shut off propulsion. She released the hatch and walked out to where Briggs was waiting.

  Briggs patted the hull. “She’s a nice little ship. I hate to be the one to take her down.”

  Sara eased her cramped muscles. “Where do we want to start?”

  Briggs eyebrows rose. “We? Colonel wants to see you. Your escort is waiting out there.”

  “My escort?”

  “Colonel says don’t give them a hard time.” He turned, his attention already off her and on the problem at hand.

  Could he get the alien systems to work with their craft? It would give them a great advantage, if they could do it and do it in time.

  Outside, Sara found four jarheads waiting to take her to the colonel. She didn’t feel protected, as they moved through the ship, she felt under arrest.

  Now that she was back on the ship, it was impossible not to think about Fyn and what had happened. Where was he right now? She didn’t tap into the computers to find out. Now that the colonel knew she could do it, it felt…wrong.

  The jarheads stopped outside the wardroom. The Old Man looked up when she entered and came to attention.

  “Good work, Captain.” He stood up and came around his desk. “At ease.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his desk. “Give me an update.”

  “We’ve got fifty of the fighters aboard and about twenty-five on the surface. Briggs is starting to work on his. We should be able to bring the big ones up whenever we want.”

  “How many do we need to operate them in a battle situation?”

  “According to the Garradians, a minimum of ten, but at least twenty is better. A full compliment is around one thousand. It seems to be comparable in size to the Doolittle.”

  “How do they compare with our ships weapons-wise? Could one of them take us out?”

  Sara blinked, wondering what he was planning.

  “With the…modifications…my nanites made to our shields, no, sir.”

  “What about the Patton?”

  “I updated their stuff when I raised their shields the other day.”

  Halliwell stared at her for a long moment. “You’re the reason our…stuff worked in the first place, aren’t you? The reason we’re out here.”

  Sara’s eyes widened. She shook her head. “No…” She hesitated. “Well…maybe…” She thought about it. Actually, she might be. “Sorry, sir.”

  She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing, just felt like she should…to someone.

  He looked up and gave her a colonel’s version of a smile, which meant his lips stretched a bit.

  “I want you to assist Briggs—”

  Sara nodded.

  “—in the morning. Get some rest. You look like you could use it.”

  Rest, she didn’t need rest. She needed information. She needed…Fyn.

  “I’m fine, sir.”

  “That wasn’t a request, Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sara didn’t move.

  His brows arched. “Was there something else?”

  “I was wondering about…”

  “Oh, that’s right. The water. Your quarters are still being cleaned out. I had someone move your stuff into one of the high security guest rooms. And as long as you’re aboard this ship, you’ll have a security detail. No arguments.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I was wondering about…Fyn.” She dropped the name into the room as gently as if it were a bomb. It wasn’t easy to keep her face neutral.

  “You don’t know?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been down on the island since…” She lifted her chin. “I was wondering if I could see him.”

  Did he look amused?

  “I don’t see the problem. If he’s not in your quarters, I would imagine he’s in the cafeteria.”

  Sara felt her jaw drop and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

  “I assumed you’d want to live with your husband. Was I wrong?”

  Though his tone was almost noncommittal, Sara felt like the question was…weighted. He wanted to know if she trusted him.

  She closed her mouth and her chin went up. “Yes, sir, I mean, no sir, you weren’t wrong. I…do people know we’re married?”

  “I believe the news is making its way through the ship. Might have been something I said.”

  Sara came to attention and saluted sharply, but she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I want you in the repair bay at 0600.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Outside the wardroom, it was a good thing her detail knew where she was going. Sara made the trip in a hazy mix of emotions. She was happy. She was nervous. She was confused. She thought she’d be visiting him in the brig. Or the colonel could have tossed him off the ship.

  She arrived way too quickly and with her detail watching, she didn’t dare hesitate at the door.

  Inside, the room was…empty.

  She was relieved.

  She was disappointed.

  She sank down on the desk stool and looked around. The room was larger than her other quarters and even had a small living room area. Really small. Two soft chairs on either side of a postage stamp table. A plastic plant perched on the table. The desk had two stools, so it probably doubled as a table. She peeked in the closet. Her clothes were on one side, Fyn’s on the other. All her stuff was here, all neatly stowed away.

  The bed was a double and there was another door—that’s right. Guests got their own head and shower, though if she remembered correctly they were smaller than a postage stamp.

  Still, a shower would be nice. She pulled off her ABU jacket and tossed it on one of the chairs, then sat down and took her boots off.

  She tilted her head. Was that water running? Where…

  She padded over and listened.

  Fyn must be in there. Showering. He was showering. With no clothes on. Water running down his skin…

  She backed up until she hit a wall, well, the door. He wouldn’t be long. Even in the guest quarters, the showers had pre-set timers.

  She couldn’t let him find her plastered to a wall. She looked around. Soft chairs looked too…soft. She sank down on the stool, her back straight, legs together, and hands on knees. Okay, quit gripping knees. Lower legs needed blood, too.

  The door opened and he was in the room, before she could inhale. Or exhale.

  He had a towel hooked low on his hips and was using another to dry his hair. With his head engulfed in towel, he hadn’t seen her yet.

  He looked good. Really, really good. Lots of smooth, muscled, tanned skin.

  She inhaled sharply.

  His body tensed, then he lowered his hands, letting the towel settle on his shoulders, and looked at her. His eyes widened. How did he feel about her being here?

  Fyn stared at Sara. Was she real? She must be, because when he imagined her in this room, she wasn’t sitting on a stool.

  She looked like she was bracing for a blow.

  She swallowed and then licked her lips. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He should say something else. “What are you doing here?”

  Okay, that sounded hostile.

  Color surged into her face. Her chin lifted. “Apparently I live here.”

  Was she happy about that? Or not? She looked down and rubbed her face. Then her chin lifted.

  “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me to.”

  He jerked and had to st
op himself from reaching out to her. He sank down on the bed. She looked at him for a long moment.

  “I wanted to tell you—”

  She stopped. “I’m sorry.”

  She was sorry?

  “I had no right to bust your chops about not trusting us.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “It just hit me how little we really knew about each other. They all wanted me because of Miri. It was…easy to believe that could be the only reason you’d want me, too.” She gave a shaky sigh. “Evie warned me I’d probably have trust issues.” She shrugged. “She hasn’t been wrong yet.”

  Finally he knew what she was talking about.

  “You’re sorry you didn’t trust me?”

  She frowned, and nodded.

  “But I didn’t tell you about Kalian.”

  “I know.” She looked down again. “I don’t know what I’d have done in your shoes. You were dealing with stuff and I didn’t do…”

  “What could you have done?” The tightness around his chest was beginning to ease.

  “Something.” She looked up. “Some…thing.” She started to smile.

  She had done something. She’d let him into her life, into her heart.

  “If I’d told you, that enforcer wouldn’t have gotten so close to you.”

  “You don’t know that. Who would expect an Ojemba agent to be on the Leader’s personal pretty boy bird?” She looked down again. “Is he…dead?”

  “Yes.” Fyn looked at her, trying to figure out what she was feeling.

  “I didn’t want to kill him.”

  “You did what you had to do.”

  She looked at him again. “I kept thinking, what if he was someone like you?”

  She really wasn’t mad at him. He couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Did they get the other guy?”

  Fyn nodded. He wanted to grab and hold her, but his mouth kept talking. “How did you get down on the island?”

  Sara shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure. I’ve been able to do some pretty weird ass things since I turned the key.”

  Fyn straightened. “Turned the key?”

  Sara looked at him, her lips slowly turning up at the edges. “I had a busy day yesterday. I was going to tell you…later, but we got…distracted.”

  Fyn blinked a couple of times. “How did you get back here without the Gadi seeing you?”

 

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