“Sara.” He was starting to sound frustrated. “Let’s talk about this. Don’t make me kill him.”
“So talk…while you still can.”
“We’re reasonable people—”
“I stopped being reasonable when you killed my husband.”
“He’s not dead! When he comes to, he’ll talk to you.”
Sara tapped into the fighter computer again and checked their positions. He was lucky he’d turned off the power. She’d have fried their asses.
“You know he’ll want you to talk to me and work this out.”
Would he want her to live, even if he never saw her again? Didn’t matter. She was the one who’d have to do it. There were things she could do, but this wasn’t one of them.
“Then I’d better kill you before he wakes up.”
Kalian’s voice hardened. “I will kill him if you don’t come to terms with me.”
“I think he’s already dead.”
She reached the bottom of the shaft, dropping down next to Perkins. They were one level below Kalian’s position. Perkins was already working on getting the doors open. She slipped her knife between the two doors, below his, and added her weight to the task and soon there was a gap large enough for them slip through.
“I wouldn’t kill my bargaining chip.”
Sara stopped. “I think you’ll do anything, say anything, to get what you want.”
Soon he’d know she’d do anything to keep him from getting it.
She slipped her carbine off her shoulder and loaded a round into the chamber with a pointed snap, knowing he’d hear it.
She turned down the volume and looked at Perkins. They did a quick summary of signals, making sure they were on the same page.
“You take point.” It made sense. He had more training than she did.
She padded quietly toward the stairs, on Perkins’ six. He did a quick check of the stairwell, then gave her the signal to move up next to him. They started up, one on each side of the wide stairs, moving carefully to keep their equipment from making contact with the wall.
Just shy of the opening, they both stopped. Perkins eased up to the opening. No sound broke the silence. He inched forward and did a quick peek around the corner. Signaled four bogeys, two each direction.
Now they just needed the other team in position…she heard the two taps on her radio—the signal they were ready.
Sara tapped into the fighter’s computer again, while Perkins eased forward, flicking on his red dot sight. It was the quick and dirty way to aim.
He tapped his radio twice, did a three count, leaned out and fired twice, then pulled back. Two shots from the other team were more like an echo. She edged out now, her weapon ready, but out of sight.
Hallway was empty.
But then a figure peered out from an opening about halfway between their positions. He stepped out into the corridor. Someone from the other position dropped him. She turned up her radio, just enough so she could hear.
“That’s five.”
“Sara.” He sounded relieved to hear her voice again. “Fyn’s conscious. He’s going to talk to you.”
Going to.
There was a pause while the radio changed hands.
“Sara.” Fyn’s voice was carefully neutral.
Sara gripped her carbine so tight her arms hurt, but her voice was as cool as his.
“Fyn.” A pause. She didn’t know what to say.
“I’m…coming out.”
“Okay.” She paused. “I…”
“I know.” A pause and then he began, “Don’t—”
His voice cut off.
* * * *
It was almost a relief when the first Dusan ships dropped out of hyperspace into the corridor. Halliwell had always hated waiting, whether it was for battle or for the dentist.
The first ships found the minefield. At first it looked like they were going to hold up to the punishment, but then a series of explosions flashed on the HUD and out his view port as the atmosphere inside them ignited with a fiery flash.
That was more like it.
From tracking and fire control he heard, “More Dusan ships dropping out of hyperspace. The Dusan have launched long-range missiles. I read twenty incoming.”
“Are we in range?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Launch counter measures. Alpha group engage echo foxtrot.” He used code, in case the Dusan could monitor their communications. “Bravo group begin India delta.” Bravo had been tasked to protect the fleet by interdicting missiles. Charlie group, the Hellfighters, was standing by to be part of the ambush.
The missiles were almost in range of their anti-missile system, but they weren’t sure how R2D2, their compact Phalanx CIWS based systems, would work against the Dusan missiles, though they should kick ET missile ass.
If they didn’t, this was going to be a short fight.
Some of the missiles fell to fighter group Bravo, then the R2D2 went to work, cutting the incoming to shreds with its 4500 rounds per minute of depleted uranium.
“Incoming missiles have been destroyed.”
The Dusan fleet drew nearer and began firing with closer range weapons. The Doolittle shook from the impact. Even with shields it was brutal. What the crap was in those things?
“Shield status?” he asked, calmly.
“Shields holding at one hundred percent.”
“Fire forward batteries at will.” Halliwell watched more and more ships dropping out of hyperspace. Their volley of missiles hit the lead Dusan ships with devastating impact.
The good news, it wasn’t hard to find a target. The bad news, well, there were a shit load of targets.
And why wasn’t he getting any reports from Donovan?
* * * *
Kalian had his men secure Fyn’s hands behind him, and then added bindings to his legs that allowed him to walk in short steps, but not much else. If anyone knew what Fyn could do, these men did. Most of it he’d learned from them. Or taught them.
He’d been so sure no one knew where they were. He thought Kalian had been defanged. Apparently no one told Kalian.
There’d been five shots, from two directions. At least she wasn’t out there alone. Kalian’s face didn’t give much away, but Fyn sensed he was frustrated. Sara hadn’t reacted the way he expected.
Fyn smiled to himself. If there was any certainty in this life, it was that Sara wouldn’t do what was expected.
She knew that Kalian would never let him live. Even taking the broken oath to the Ojemba out of the equation, Kalian had to know Fyn would never quit trying to find Sara, now matter where he took her, no matter what either of them promised.
I don’t think much of oaths that bind good people to do things they know they shouldn’t. The only oath they need to swear is to do their duty.
Wise words from a wise man. Words to live…or die…by.
Fyn looked at Kalian. “She won’t do it.”
Kalian’s face tightened. “In the end, she will find a way to make it feel…right. Women are…emotion driven. Her passion for you is her weakness. To save you, she will come to terms with me.”
Emotion driven? Kalian was facing Captain Donovan, a warrior, not a woman. Fyn had heard it in her voice on the radio. She couldn’t afford to give in. If she did, what about her mission? She knew what was riding on this play. More than his life hung in the balance. She’d taken an oath to do her duty. And she’d find a way to do it.
With his chin down, he stared at Kalian. If he charged him—
Kalian smiled. “Don’t make me stun you again.” He was quiet for a moment. “You will die when I say and not before. You know I always get what I want.”
“I thought you wanted to defeat the Dusan.”
“That’s what this is about. You think I just…want her. You are wrong. If she were just a woman, I wouldn’t be here. She is Miri’s heir, the key keeper—though I believe I will be able to redirect her…passion more usefully.”
Fyn didn’t flin
ch, but it wasn’t easy. “Her people have a plan—”
“They are brave. But they cannot win this battle. It is only a distraction, a useful one, but still a distraction.”
“You’re wrong.”
He stared at Fyn. “I hope I am. But whether they win or lose, Miri’s legacy belongs to the Gadi, by right. Miri’s heir belongs to us. It is how it was meant to be.”
Someone came at him from behind and tied a cloth around his mouth, so he couldn’t speak.
“Now we move.”
* * * *
“Alpha Group! Form up in a whiskey and papa on the nearest Delta Charlie.”
Captain Hawkins watched his squadron form into a wedge around him as they made a beeline for the nearest Dusan cruiser. He got a signal lock, but he wanted to wait until he was almost on top of the cruiser.
“Lock on with EM mike and fire on my mark!”
Defensive fire began to streak past the cockpit.
“Foxtrot now and scatter!”
He fired a volley of plasma and sent an EM missile into the cruiser’s shields. He banked sharply, hoping it would keep the cruiser’s guns and missile launchers from pinging in on him. A warning light flickered on with a whine.
Too late.
“Hawkins! You’ve got one on your tail!”
He cursed as he threw his fighter into a wild bank. The missile streaked past. It began to turn.
Damn, it was still on him!
“Hawkins, you’re too close!” His wingman’s voice broke through the battle chatter.
Hawkins did another bat turn and flew right at the missile. The distance closed too quickly…
At the last second he swung his fighter sideways into a corkscrew maneuver and banked off. He barely made it. The missile missed his shield by inches. It lost him for the moment. Then…turned into his wingman’s line of fire. It went away with a spectacular flash.
“You’re clear, alpha leader.”
“I owe you one—”
“Dusan fighters launching!”
* * * *
As he paced toward the door, Fyn tested the strength of the cords Kalian had used. No surprise they didn’t give.
“Stop.”
A rope stretched back from his bonds to one of the guards. The corridor was deeply dark. Now one light came on, putting a very low glow into the corridor. Kalian had positioned it to shine out, rather than into the room. It was a smart move. Sara couldn’t see into the room and would be seen if she or any of the men with her tried to enter the corridor.
“Do you see him?” Kalian’s voice echoed in the empty corridor.
“Yes.”
“Then you see I kept my word. He lives. For now.”
There was a pause.
“I can kill him before you can act.”
More silence.
“I need you to respond, Sara.”
Something touched Fyn’s back. An oujuba stick. Crap. Before he had time for more, the current convulsed his body. The gag helped mute his involuntary cry.
Was it his imagination or did the silence turn more…menacing?
“Now we negotiate.”
Still no sound from Sara.
Kalian shocked him again. This time Fyn was ready and no sound left him. He couldn’t stop his body jerking.
“Say something.”
“Something.”
The ice in her voice sent a chill down his back.
Kalian chuckled.
He still didn’t get it. He still didn’t get her.
“I know you have cloaked ships near by. You will lead me and my men to one of these ships. Your men will surrender control and we will leave. Fyn remains here alive. As long as he stays away from you or me, he continues to live.”
He’d rather be dead than live without her. As if Kalian heard the thought, he shocked him again.
“As you can see, there are many ways for a man to die. Neither of us wishes this to happen to him. He is a good warrior. He should not die like this.”
More silence.
“Even a strong man can not survive that many jolts from the oujuba—without some loss of memory. If you wait too long, he won’t know who you are.”
“You know, in the dark, you could be Dusan.”
Fyn could feel Kalian’s jerk, his anger. Another shock. This one lasted long enough to drop him to his knees. He would have fallen forward, but the length of rope held up him up.
“I am not like the Dusan. No one will touch you unless you…wish it.”
“You think that makes you different? A prison is still a prison. You’re just a different jailer. And your credibility is shot to hell. Why would I believe anything you said?”
“How have I not kept my word?” There was the lash of anger in his voice again.
“You made an alliance with us. Taking Fyn hostage is not only a betrayal of that alliance, it is an act of war.”
“Fyn is not one of your people.”
“You’re wrong. Again.”
He laughed softly. “So much fury and drama. It is very…female of you, but I know women. I know them very well. In the end, you are…practical. It is one of your better qualities, your ability to make the best of what you cannot change.”
If he was trying to piss her off, that would do it.
“I need an answer.”
“In a…negotiation, counter terms are offered, or at least that’s what the commander claimed.”
“By all means, offer your counter terms.”
“I propose that you and your men step back and let Fyn walk to me, alone and unharmed. You turn the power back on. And we don’t kill you.”
Fyn smiled under the gag.
Kalian chuckled. “You have…chops, I believe you called it.”
He applied the oujuba stick, holding it against Fyn’s back until he forced out a groan. His body continued to shudder after the stick was withdrawn. When the shudders stopped, the pain didn’t.
“But you have nothing to bargain with.”
Fyn wasn’t sure what made him look down. He saw the red circle on his chest. There was a short, sharp crack. It felt like someone punched him in the chest.
The last thing he heard before darkness claimed him was Sara saying, “Now you don’t either.”
* * * *
The Doolittle shook as it took a bone-jarring hit, tossing the bridge crew around like they were rag dolls.
“Report!” Halliwell picked himself up off the deck.
The Dusan were sending in missiles and fighters in thick waves, so that even with the R2D2 and point defense missiles, stuff was still getting through.
Fighters from both sides formed a chaotic cloud around the Doolittle. One Dusan fighter exploded spectacularly less than a click from the bridge view port. The flash blinded him for a moment.
The Doolittle and the Patton were taking a beating along with the Garradian vessels, but Halliwell didn’t want to call in the other ships. Once they were committed, it was all they had, except for the outpost.
“Any word from the Captain?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“No, sir.”
Halliwell looked at his bridge crew. They were mostly young, some of them untried in battle. If any of them were afraid, he couldn’t see it. Every one of them did their job as coolly as if this were a drill, not a fight for their very survival.
“It’s Colonel Emerson on the radio, sir.”
“Put him through.”
“I think it’s time.”
“What’s our shield strength?” Halliwell asked.
“Down fifteen percent.”
“Roger that.” He was quiet for a minute, but Emerson was right. “I’ll bring in the Gadi and cloaked fighters.”
Emerson sounded relieved as he signed off.
“Open a channel to Commander Gaedon.”
* * * *
Sara was vaguely aware of Perkins cussing next to her, the words blurring together. She leaned against the wall. She might have been hyperventilating
. Some place inside, she couldn’t believe what she’d done. But what other choice did she have?
She couldn’t stand by and do nothing while he tortured Fyn. She couldn’t surrender. If she failed here, failed now, they all died.
One man’s life against so many.
The soldier had to act before the woman’s heart over ruled the soldier’s head.
Deep down, pain fomented, churning like lava.
Fyn.
She shoved a fist against her mouth, struggling against the emotion that wanted to take her down. If she lived, she’d have to deal with what she’d done, but not right now. Right now they had a nest to clean out, power to restore, Dusan trash to kick. She needed to not have trouble at her back when Adin came. And they were running out of time.
The silence from Kalian’s position was…intense, but it wouldn’t last.
She looked out. They’d turned out the light. That was good for her side, bad for theirs.
She clicked her radio again, then twice more. “Mike India Charlie.”
Move in. Clear.
She and Perkins stepped quietly out into the corridor, with Perkins on point, passing the bodies of the dead Ojemba as they moved toward the doorway. She could see the other team on the move, too. Both paused near the opening. Perkins pulled the fuse and tossed in a flash bang with practiced efficiency.
Sara closed her eyes, turned her head away and plugged her ear on that side. It went off with a satisfying bang, not to mention a disorienting flash. If Kalian and his men were lucky, disoriented was all they’d be. It had been known to make some men mess their drawers.
The jarheads M-4 lights stabbed into the darkness, their beams criss-crossing through drifting smoke as the three men moved in.
Sara moved forward and crouched by Fyn’s body while they cleared the room, cutting the bonds they’d used to secure him. She managed to turn him over. His eyes were open. He looked surprised. She choked back a sob.
She smoothed his lids down, then her hand drifted down, spreading across the still-warm skin of his cheek. Her palm tingled, but it couldn’t warm her. She was too cold. Too dead inside. A dead woman walking.
* * * *
The ambush worked perfectly. The Gadi caught the Dusan flat footed. One after another, a row of enemy cruisers exploded, sending long tongues of flaming atmosphere into space as they decompressed.
He could see the gomers scramble to adjust to this new threat.
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