by Terry Mixon
“Welcome,” a cold voice said from inside. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Brad considered how he’d use these circumstances to spring an ambush. And how he’d counter one.
“I wouldn’t try anything hasty if I were you,” the voice continued. “Your lovely prize here might become less lovely if you do.”
Deciding to take the risk, Brad stepped through the door, immediately spotting a pair of figures in the middle of the bare room. The masked man who was speaking held a long-bladed knife to Josephine Barnes’s throat. She was tied up and sitting in a chair.
“In fact, to prevent undue hastiness,” the man said, “you’d best lay down your weapons. Now.”
“Do it,” Brad ordered his men. He deactivated his mono-blade and dropped it to the floor. At the man’s gesture, he added his pistol to it. That still left him with a concealed pistol at the small of his back.
“Now, come in,” the man said. “Let me see the brave mercenaries who’ve come to rescue our damsel in distress.”
Brad gestured his men forward, and the three of them slowly drifted forward to flank him. They’d dropped their obvious weapons in the hall, but he knew they’d have more secreted about their persons.
“You’re good, whoever you are,” the man complimented them. “I’d assumed our isolation would more than suffice to prevent any attack on us. You handled my people on the platform quite efficiently.”
Brad said nothing, watching the man, waiting for an opportunity. He seemed to be enjoying himself. If he let his guard down for one second…
“The silent type, eh?” the man observed. “It won’t do you much good.”
He dragged Josephine up from the chair. Her eyes were dull and she seemed slack. Drugged again, most likely.
“What do you want?” Brad demanded softly.
“You seem to have broken my ship,” the kidnapper observed. “I’ll want a new one, clear passage out of the Saturn planetary system, and a guarantee that no one will follow us.”
“I can’t order that.”
“I’d suggest you’d best get on the com and talk to someone who can, mercenary,” the kidnapper said sharply. “If I don’t get what I want, I may have to start removing important parts of the Senator’s daughter. I’d imagine her value goes down if she comes back in pieces.”
Brad regarded the man coldly. “If you start hurting her, your leverage goes out the window.”
“Actually, no,” the kidnapper disagreed with a grin. “It only disappears if I kill her, which I don’t plan to do. I have so many better uses for her than that.”
As if to demonstrate his “better plans,” the man ran his tongue up the side of the girl’s neck. For half a moment, he took his eyes off Brad.
It was enough. Brad drew the hidden pistol and brought it up.
The man snapped “Drop it or the girl—”
Whatever else he was planning to say was lost in the sharp hiss-crack of the ten-millimeter automatic. Long before the kidnapper could react, the heavy slug smashed through his forehead and into his brain. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, his knife clattering to the floor.
Even before the man’s body hit the floor, Brad lunged across the room to catch Josephine Barnes as she began to slump. He carefully lowered her to the floor. She had a nick from the blade, but was otherwise unharmed.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “You’re safe now.”
She seemed to hear him, even through her drug-induced haze. Her tense muscles relaxed.
Brad used the knife the kidnapper had dropped to carefully cut her bonds. A moment later, she wrapped her arms around herself, turning away from the blood-spattered corpse of her kidnapper and sobbing.
“Trista,” Brad said softly, stepping back.
The female mercenary officer removed her helmet and knelt next to the girl, cradling her head. She looked up at Brad and nodded, accepting responsibility for Josephine Barnes.
“Guard the door,” Brad said. “We don’t want to get caught by surprise.”
After they stepped out, he picked up his blade, holstered it, and called Saburo. “We have the girl. What’s your status?”
Saburo’s voice came back rather breathless. “I think we underestimated the crew aboard this thing. I haven’t lost anyone, but Rafi’s wounded and we can’t seem to press them further.”
“I’ll call Raine. He’s got the manpower to drag them out.”
“Understood, sir.”
Brad used Heart’s com system and called Raine.
“Chief, it’s Madrid,” he said quietly. “I have mixed news, I’m afraid.”
A sigh came over the link. “The news is always mixed, Commodore. Give it to me.”
“Lieutenant Champion is dead.”
“How?”
“They tried to grenade us,” Brad said flatly. “He lunged too far forward to disable it and was isolated when three of the bastards followed it up.”
The other man sighed. “Well, shit. What’s the rest of the news?”
“The transport is disabled but is heavily defended. It seems to have a good-sized crew aboard. On the positive side, we have Ms. Barnes. We’re withdrawing to our ship. She seems physically unhurt.”
“I see. I presume you called requesting backup. I thought you had this all covered.”
“If you don’t have at least one shuttle full of troops ready to go, I’ve completely misjudged you,” Brad said matter-of-factly.
“I have two and can have them at the platform in ten minutes.”
“At which point,” Brad told him, “I’ll happily turn over responsibility for this nest of scum to you.”
“And I will deal with them,” Raine said, his voice as hard as steel.
Chapter Eight
More than a week later, Brad stood in Blackhawk Station’s departure lounge and watched his people escort Josephine Barnes to her ride home.
He’d been overruled about taking her home himself by several people. Firstly, the doctor on the station felt the young woman needed treatment that she wouldn’t get on Heart. She’d been through a lot and Brad could see how fragile she was, even though she put on a good face.
Secondly, Fleet had dispatched a trio of corvettes to see her safely back to her father. Since she had been staying there until she was stable enough to be moved, that didn’t really hurt anything.
And it had allowed him several clandestine meetings with Michelle. That was a great third reason that he hadn’t felt like sharing with anyone else.
Surprisingly, there was a medium-sized crowd gathered to watch the Senator’s daughter leave for the Jupiter planetary system. His people had an eye on them, so Brad wasn’t particularly worried.
Trista was at point on the four-man security team. The others had spread out into a diamond around their charge as they escorted her to the Fleet corvette that had docked to receive her.
He came to a halt as they arrived at the boarding tube. Inside, he could see the Lieutenant Commander he’d spoken with this morning and two female Marines waiting to receive her. Their doctor hovered behind them.
Three of the mercenaries split off and formed a perimeter as Brad stepped up to Josephine Barnes.
“I know that we haven’t known one another for very long, but I’m very happy to see you doing so well,” he said. “I know your father won’t be able to sleep until he has you safely home. I regret the circumstances of our meeting, but I hope you don’t regret the meeting itself.”
“I don’t,” she said in a soft soprano as she stepped in to hug him. “Thank you.”
“It’s been our pleasure. Have a safe and quiet trip home, Miss Barnes.”
With a small wave, Josephine stepped on board the warship. A moment later, the tube closed behind her.
“Do you think she’s ever going to recover?” he asked Trista softly as they headed back to Heart.
The woman shook her head. “Not really, but she’ll come out the other side a stronger person, if I’m rea
ding her right. The only casualty will have been her innocence.”
Brad considered that as they walked and nodded slowly. It wasn’t really that different from his own life. His rebirth might have been bloodier, but hers had a more intense personal pain to overcome.
She’d do it, he decided at last. Josephine Barnes was stronger than she looked. There was steel inside her that other people couldn’t see. She might not be fine for a long time, but she’d reforge her life in ways no one would be able to predict. She was a survivor.
When Brad got back to Heart, Shelly intercepted him before he could vanish into his cabin. “A transmission came in while you were out. Looks like a response to your last v-mail to the Senator.”
“Thanks,” he acknowledged. “Transfer it to my cabin.”
She inclined her head and vanished onto the bridge.
Since his cabin was only a few meters away, he reached it in moments. He settled into his chair and found the message. He activated it and an image of Senator Barnes appeared.
“Commodore Madrid,” the man greeted Brad warmly. “By now, my daughter should be safely in Fleet’s hands. From the bottom of my heart I thank you. While I doubt anyone who isn’t a father can understand the depths of the fear I’ve felt for the last few weeks, you’ve done more than I’d dared to hope. Thank you.”
The Senator’s face hardened. “I must also thank you for appending her physician’s reports. As I expected, it’s disturbing. If I ever find out who was behind these bastards, you’ll have another contract. One with much more direct and violent goals.”
Brad nodded in angry agreement. The bastards had clearly discovered Josephine Barnes was a virgin early on and had chosen not to change that.
That hadn’t prevented them from raping her in everything but name. That she could still summon the courage and strength to hug him before boarding the ship taking her home impressed him deeply.
“To more immediate matters,” the Senator continued. “I promised double your normal rate and double that if Josephine was returned unharmed. You managed to get her back more quickly than I’d feared, and kept her from even worse harm than she’s already suffered.
“In light of the circumstances and due to the value of your services, I’m paying eight times your normal rate. And, as I’ve left you stranded at Saturn rather than allowing for the time to bring Josephine home, I’ll double the time you’ve spent on this contract and add a bit.
“We’ll call it six weeks at eight times your regular pay. Well, that’s only forty-eight weeks, if we consider it as a lump sum. We’ll make it equivalent to a full year’s pay just to satisfy my sense of balance. I’d take it as a favor if that extra four weeks ended up being divided among your people as a sign of my gratitude.”
Brad inhaled sharply. Even after distributing the bonus to his crew, that amount of money could replace Heart. Well, make a sizable down payment on a base corvette hull, anyway. It could support the company, without them taking another contract, for a full year.
The Senator continued, his face serious and thoughtful. “You saved my daughter. That’s a debt I can never repay with money. If I or mine can ever serve you or yours with treasure or blood, you need only ask.”
Barnes raised his hand in a gesture of goodwill. “May the Everlit guide you and keep you, Commodore. We’ll speak again in the future, I’m sure. Farewell.”
Brad glanced around the conference table in Heart’s cramped wardroom. “All right, people, down to business. As of ten minutes ago, the payment for this mission was transferred into our accounts on Io. The Senator doubled the amount of time we spent on the contract and paid eight times the customary rate for a platinum-rated company.
“He also added an additional four weeks’ normal pay to be distributed to all of our people. I’m sure each of you can come up with something worthy of that kind of spending money.”
He grinned as signs of shock and pleasure appeared on everyone’s faces. “This is obviously far more than we were originally promised. As you might imagine, this makes a major difference in our planned operations for the next few months.
“The most significant change is that we can now refrain from active operations until our new ship is fully commissioned, crewed, and worked up.
“Secondly, due to your excellent performance on this contract, I’ve decided to release you all for R&R for three weeks.”
It took a moment to sink in. Everyone looked pleased, except for Jason. He was shooting Brad a dubious look.
“On Blackhawk?” the tactical officer asked.
“I see no reason to delay your well-deserved vacation until we return to Io,” Brad said with a perfectly straight face.
“In other words, we’re being stranded on this isolated outpost so you can see your girlfriend,” Randall said.
Everyone stared at their engineer.
“Oh, don’t think you were that discreet,” the burly engineer assured him. “I saw you two a few days ago. She’s a diver here, right? What was her name? Marilyn?”
“Michelle!” Shelly crowed, surging to her feet. “You and Michelle? Woooo!!!”
“And this is why I didn’t say anything,” Brad said dryly. “Yes, I am seeing Michelle.”
“That settles it,” Shelly told the engineer sternly. “Blackhawk it is. Besides, they might not have heard about your poker skills here.”
Randall perked up. “That’s true. It might not be a total waste of time after all.”
Brad found himself smiling. “I’ll admit my motives might not be entirely professional, but there are solid reasons other than my personal gratification. Senator Barnes said that if anyone identified the people behind the kidnapping, he’d have a direct-action contract for us.”
That made them all smile coldly.
“Then it makes perfect business sense,” Jason said. “If we can get a lead on the backers—if there are any we missed killing—before we leave Blackhawk, we’ll save weeks of travel time. Maybe even a month or more, depending on where Heart needs to go.”
Marshal glanced around the table. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that being on Blackhawk doesn’t bother us that much under those circumstances.”
“Good,” Brad said with a smile. “Let’s set up a standby watch and get to it, shall we?”
The console screen on Brad’s desk swirled with the shifting colors that were supposed to relax the viewer. He regarded it with an amused glance. It never seemed to relax him. His current tranquil state had nothing to do with any screensaver.
Michelle’s diver was due back in about four hours. She thought he’d be gone by now, so he couldn’t wait to give her the good news.
He got up to make a cup of coffee, but his console chimed with tones indicating an in-ship call before he’d taken two steps.
A white-faced Shelly appeared in the screen when he accepted the call. When she saw him, she visibly relaxed.
“Thank the Everlit you’re up,” she said quickly. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” he demanded, his relaxation of moments before vanishing in an instant.
“I was running a sensor sweep—primarily passive—of the space around Blackhawk. Mainly, I was looking for Michelle’s ship, to see when she was going to be back.”
“I assume you found something other than her diver.”
“I found her, but I found something else, too. Look at this.”
His communication officer’s image vanished and was replaced by a raw data dump from their infrared scanner—the longest-ranged sensor Heart carried. It showed an attack fleet of nearly sixty spaceships headed their way.
Chapter Nine
It only took Brad a few moments to reach Heart’s bridge. “What have you got?”
“I’ve refined the data,” Shelly said. “I’m waiting for Jason to get here and double-check it, but we’re definitely looking at a minimum of sixty ships. Possibly as many as seventy.
“It’s not all bad news, though. I do
n’t think there is anything heavier than a destroyer in that pack. The station should be able to handle them with their weapons platforms.”
Shelly highlighted a group of eight signatures at the front of the fleet. “These ships are giving off significant power densities. I’m guessing they’re Fleet-style interceptor frigates.”
“Shit,” Brad swore succinctly. Interceptor frigates could easily pull twenty—maybe even thirty—meters per second squared. That meant Heart couldn’t run from them.
“What else?” he asked.
“We’ve got at least ten transports. Probably a couple of hundred shock troops per, I’d guess. That means several thousand total. It looks like an attack fleet.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Brad muttered as he studied the icons on the screen. “That’s a lot of firepower, but Blackhawk will eat them alive.
“Why in Darkness hasn’t the station sounded an alarm?” he asked. “Get me Raine.”
She turned away, her fingers flickering across her console. A moment later, Raine’s image appeared on Brad’s chair screen. He was dressed for duty and didn’t seem at all disturbed about the incoming threat.
“Commodore Madrid. How can Blackhawk Security help you this very early morning?”
“What the fuck are you playing at?” Brad asked sharply.
Raine’s eyes narrowed. “Would it help if I said I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
“You mean you don’t know about the attack fleet less than two hours from your outer defenses?”
“The what?” Raine demanded, sitting up abruptly.
“There is a fleet of sixty-plus ships approaching from around Saturn,” Brad said. “How can you not know? You have active scanners running.”
Raine’s image turned away from the camera for a moment, looking at something, and then he turned back. “I don’t know what sort of joke you’re playing, Madrid, but our scanners are clear.”
An icy-cold fist closed around Brad’s heart. “Check the raw data.”
“The what?”
“Oh, for Light’s sake, check the Darkness-damned raw data!” Brad snarled.