by Cher Hollis
He stood and started to hand her the weapon. Cassie lifted her hands in protest and shook her head.
“I don’t know how to use it. You need it more.”
Bo stepped closer. “It uses an accretion blast with a controlled black hole effect. It’s very accurate and easy to shoot.”
She tried to dissuade him. “I’ll jam one of these loose pipes into the door latch, after you go. That way no one can get in.”
She couldn’t let him give up his chance against five men for her. Bo looked on the verge of issuing a command to stop her idea, but then she went over and picked up the pipe, and hurriedly said, “This will work, Bo.”
He shook his head with obviously reluctant agreement.
“Let no one in, but me,” he ordered.
“No one,” she agreed, as he walked to the hatch, and she followed. “How will I know—I mean how long should I wait, Bo?”
“No matter what, I’ll be back in one hour.” He seemed very confident as he reached for the latch.
Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Bo!”
Cassie let the pipe fall as she rushed forward and latched her arms around Bo’s neck. Her lips reached his, and he pulled her tight into his body as he took the kiss she’d started and he made it faster and deeper. His lips told her things he’d never spoken, while she urgently kissed him back and showed him she felt that way too.
When their lips parted, she was breathless.
Against her mouth, he vowed, “I’ll be back soon, angel.”
Bo stopped a short distance outside of the storage room after the hatch shut and he backed against the wall. He looked down each end of the corridor, seeing they were clear, then he shut his eyes. He needed a few seconds to center his mind.
The events in the storage compartment angered him to a limit that had been hard to contain. It wasn’t the passionate kiss that had him fighting for control, but the intense rage he’d experienced watching Simon put his hands on Cassie.
He’d come awake when Simon jerked his chin, but he’d faked unconsciousness, and then he’d had to take standing by as Simon abused Cassie. He’d known his only chance was to wait and hope Simon would move into the right position. The rage he’d felt had been so deep it nearly blinded him.
He’d never forget Cassie’s heart-wrenching reaction. Even the feel of Simon’s neck breaking had done little to lower his fury. It was only because Cassie had needed comfort that he’d been able to bring his rage back into check.
But he had to leave that all behind and concentrate on what he had to do next. There were five Variant men left onboard the ship, and he had to capture or kill them all.
He would need all his focus.
Twenty years of military training fell naturally into place. It’s what he was trained for, and he was good at it.
Bo shoved away from the inside wall, while he ripped the rest of his undershirt away and stuffed the remnants into the side pocket of his fatigue pants. He adjusted the IP’s settings, tightening the accretion shot, because he didn’t want to blast any holes in the outside walls of the ship.
He could tell by the markings over the hatches that the ship was a dilapidated Traverian mining ship. That meant the old vessel had two levels, with the propulsion on the lower level and the flight deck on top. He was on the lower level, so he would work his way up.
First, he reconnoitered the compartments on the short length of corridor away from his position, and then he worked his way silently past Cassie’s location and moved toward the propulsion section.
Minutes later, he found the first two Variants in the propulsion section, and he decided he would try to take them alive if he could. He flipped open a compartment on the handle of the IP and a strap fell out, which he hooked to the weapon. Lifting the strap over his neck, he pushed one arm through so it hung against his side and freed his hands.
Looking overhead, he jumped and grabbed two exposed ceiling pipes. Faster than a normal man could do, he swung his body up and latched his legs around one of the pipes. He worked until his knees caught, while he still held onto the other pipe. His position was slightly to the right of the open hatchway that led into the propulsion section.
He would have to be fast and strong to overpower other Variants. There was no holding back and tempering his abilities like normal. He held the pipe with both hands.
Then he garbled his voice, as he shouted, “Hey! Hey, hurry! Got to see this! Won’t believe it!”
Curiosity overrode caution when the man closest to the door rushed into the corridor. He hadn’t picked up a weapon, and Bo swung down using his knees as leverage and he grabbed the man with a chokehold that instantly cut off his ability to yell.
Bo jerked the man off to the side and out of sight from anyone inside propulsion. There was a silent battle, because they both had Variant strength, but Bo had leverage.
Bo heard the other kidnapper’s footsteps, while he felt the man in his stranglehold go lax as he passed out from lack of air. Not killing him, Bo released his hold and let the man fall to the deck beside the entryway. Then he swung his body up again. Grabbing a pipe, he judged the right time to release his knees from the other pipe. He launched his body through the air, while he kept a tight hold on the pipe over his head.
The man didn’t know what hit him, when Bo’s boots slammed into his chin, and then the kidnapper fell onto his back, unconscious. Slowly, Bo let himself down while checking with his enhanced senses that he hadn’t made enough noise to bring anyone else, and then he used the remnants of his undershirt to tie both men.
He dragged them to the back of the propulsion section, where he used his knife to cut away material for gags off one of the men’s shirt. When he searched them, he found another knife and the IR that the second man had dropped.
Bo knew he couldn’t carry all the weapons so he hid them in a side panel in the corridor. Leaving all but his original knife, the smaller caliber IP, and another strap he’d taken off the IR.
The propulsion section was at the very end of the corridor, which meant the three remaining Variant kidnappers were on the upper level. Bo caught a break when he heard two of the men as they started down the ladder from the top deck. He could hear their approach, and he hid around the edge of a corner that boxed in the stepladder.
“I’ll tell Simon we have an alien ship sighted, while you go and check on Langley and Conner. See if Langley has that thermal jack repaired yet,” one of the men said.
The other answered, “Yeah right, Simon won’t like being disturbed. He’s got the hot’s for that chick he has tied up.”
“Hope he shares,” the first man said, just as his feet hit the corridor decking with a thud.
Bo swung the IP on its shoulder strap to lie against his back, out of his way, and then he coiled the ends of the longer black strap around each of his hands. The men’s backs were to him as he came around the corner with his arms raised. Bo looped the strap over the nearest man’s head. Swiftly, he crossed his hands and jerked it tight around the man’s neck. The man had no time to react, other than a startled woof of air.
In a split second, Bo dragged him around in a half turn and used that momentum to swing a flying kick squarely at the other man’s jaw, which crumpled him to the deck. The man Bo held captive with the strap was choking, struggling, and digging at the strap around his neck. Taking both ends of the strap in one hand, Bo placed a well-directed elbow jab to the man’s temple and he dropped him.
Bo secured their hands and feet, using the straps from both IR’s the men had carried. Once again, he cut part of their clothes to use as gags, and then he grabbed both by their collars and pulled them over to the ladder, where he stuffed them behind it. After gathering all the weapons, he put them into the same wall panel with the others.
He paused and wiped a trail of sweat from his face. The name of the last Variant kidnapper still standing was Ellis. Right before Simon had injected Bo; Ellis had taken pleasure in working Bo over with his fists. He knew Ellis woul
d be on the flight deck, because he was the only one left to pilot the ship. That area would be open, with no chance for hidden ambushes.
It left only one choice—to walk in openly.
Bo made his way quickly up the ladder and headed straight for the flight deck. He swung the IP around as he moved, checking the setting once more. Then he cautiously approached the entryway to the flight deck, holding his pistol ready. Ellis was standing sideways to the entryway in front of the pilotage, about fifteen paces inside. Ellis had an IR slung over his right shoulder, the side facing Bo, and an IP tucked into his belt.
Bo already judged the man had some military experience, and he stepped through the threshold, as he shouted, “Ellis! Things look more even now.”
Swiftly, Ellis lifted the barrel of his IR, while Bo continued to stalk toward him with his weapon raised.
“Stop!” Ellis shouted.
Bo stopped, while they both kept their weapons leveled at each other.
“Standoff, Ellis,” Bo said. “Bet you’re too gutless to take me with your fists, now I’m not tied up.”
Ellis’s lips pulled tight with the light of challenge sparking in his squinted gaze. He nodded, accepting the dare. Slowly taking the IP with his free hand, he tossed it off to the side, but he kept the IR pointed at Bo.
“It was bull, you wanting to join us, military-slave. I knew it,” Ellis spat.
“I had incentive from your damn fists to change my mind. I like my own way, not yours or theirs,” Bo taunted, as he released the strap from his IP, but kept it pointed at Ellis.
Both men began to move in slow motion, simultaneously setting down their weapons, and then they carefully stepped back from them.
Slowly, they began to circle each other, while they moved a little closer with each step.
Bo waited for Ellis to make the first move. He could see from Ellis’s stance that he was skilled in martial arts and Bo adjusted his stance, while mentally keeping his body loose, as he prepared for an all-out assault using his hands and feet.
It wasn’t human versus Variant; it was Variant versus Variant. Every move faster, stronger, deadlier.
Ellis moved first, trying a side-to-side stiff-legged roundhouse kick to Bo’s head so fast his leg was a blur. But Bo ducked just as fast, and came in low. Ellis spun through the revolution of his kick, bringing his arm up in anticipation of gaining a head blow. But Bo caught Ellis’s balancing leg with a solid kick to his thigh, while Ellis’s fist glanced off Bo’s shoulder.
Bo fired a rapid succession of tight-fisted jabs to Ellis’s rib cage as Ellis tried to regain his balance. Bo heard the woof of air leave Ellis’s lungs as Ellis staggered back. Rapidly, Bo launched a standing dropkick to Ellis’s chin, following the man down to the deck as he fell. Bo jabbed his knee into Ellis’s gut and shot an explosive blow to Ellis’s face, which knocked him unconscious, as Bo heard bones crunching.
When Bo uncoiled from Ellis’s limp body, he heard footsteps. Swiftly, he swung around trying to place the sound. Then he heard the steps were quickly fading.
“There is someone else on the ship,” he said, racing to a dropped IR and grabbing it.
He had to run back to the pilotage. He didn’t have time to check the ship’s course as he slowed the propulsion and hastily set the autopilot, while he hoped it would be enough for the ship not to run into anything in the vastness of space. Then he sped from the control deck.
When he reached the ladder, he heard the unknown man bellowing, “Simon, let me in!”
The sounds of a hatch being forcefully jerked, clanked loudly.
“Cassie,” Bo hissed under his breath. She was alone and defenseless.
He grabbed both sides of the metal ladder and slid down, ignoring the rungs. He wasn’t taking any chances that the pipe Cassie had used to jam the hatch door would hold.
The man at the hatch was so intent on getting in; he never looked up when Bo approached.
“Don’t move!” Bo shouted, leveling his weapon at the man.
With his back to him, the man immediately obeyed, raising his arms into the air. Bo realized the man was no soldier, because he was shaking in his boots. Behind the man, Bo moved closer and struck him at the base of his skull, making him fall sideways onto the deck.
Bo knew Cassie would be frantic, and he stepped over the unconscious man and pounded on the hatch with three solid knocks.
“Cassie, it’s Bo. Open up.”
It seemed too long, before Bo heard the rattle of the pipe being pulled free. His hand was on the latch and he shoved it. When the hatch swung open, Cassie flew into his arms, and he caught her tightly against him, while he pushed the IR to his back. The yellow fabric of her jacket slid against his chest and he could feel her body trembling as he wound his hands into her hair and tilted her head back so he could see her face.
Concern edged his brow as he looked into her brown eyes and found only worry for him.
They both spoke at the same time. “Are you all right?”
They both slightly smiled as their words mingled.
“I got them all, but there’s not much time,” he explained, regretting when he had to let her go.
Cassie stepped back, but she winced, hopping on one bare foot as she looked down.
“Ore fragments,” Bo said, answering her questioning look. “All over the decks. Too much for bare feet.” He crouched to tie up the last kidnapper. “I have to get back to the flight deck. No one’s flying this rust bucket,” he told her.
“What can I do?” she asked.
His eyes lifted to her, as she stood in the oversized yellow jacket with her bare legs and feet showing beneath it. He nearly smiled, but the seriousness of their position prevented it, no matter how tempting he thought she looked.
“Go check those cabins for shoes and clothes. All the kidnappers are tied. Don’t worry about them,” he said. “I’m going to the flight deck.”
He watched her hesitating, her face showing worry, and then she seemed to come to some decision. “I’ll hurry, Bo.”
He stood, as she turned around and carefully started to tiptoe through the debris.
“Unreasonable,” he muttered, then he took two long strides and reached Cassie’s side, where he brusquely swept her up into his arms. She nearly squealed, as he ordered, “Hold on.”
He held her against his chest as he carried her down the corridor, where he stopped at the hatch he thought was the crew’s quarters. Kicking it open, he set her down inside the threshold.
“There,” he said. “You have a head start.”
Cassie smiled at him with a shake of her dark hair, and then he turned quickly and sprinted down the corridor. When he reached the ladder, he used accelerated speed to climb it, taking two rungs at a time. There were too many things that needed to be done at once, as he ran the priorities through his mind. Then he hit the top deck at a run—there was something nagging him, making him have a sense of urgency.
When he barreled onto the flight deck, the reason for the urgent feeling hit him all at once, as his eyes fixed on the forward bay windows.
Tell Simon that we sighted an alien ship.
The kidnapper’s words flashed through Bo’s mind, at the same time it registered that the ship was going to crash.
Bo knew he was too late, even as he leaped forward trying to gain the pilotage. At the same second, the Traverian miner rammed headlong into an alien vessel out the portside.
The sound was deafening, and Bo was thrown forward on top of the pilot’s control panel. The mining ship twisted with violent motions as it screeched as if being torn apart. Bo grabbed for the edges of the control panel, and he tried to keep from being thrown aside. An earthquake erupted in the room with electrical arcs, exploding flashes, and equipment and parts of the ship flying through the air.
Was the ship breaking apart? Bo fought to deactivate the autopilot as a piece of ceiling panel ripped loose above him.
Then it pounded him flat on top of the control pane
l.
He continued to search for the controls under the pile of rubble with his fingers, using superhuman Variant strength, while his body shook. There was a high-pitched rending sound above him, just as his fingers found the forward control and he managed to deactivate the forward propulsion.
Then he was buried under more debris falling from above him.
Cassie found a pair of nickel-gray motion boots that would adjust to any foot size and she tossed them on the cot behind her. Pulling open a tall set of normally automated cabinet doors in the square chamber, she searched through the contents, but all she found were man-size white undershirts.
Grabbing one she tossed off the yellow miner’s jacket, not sure the undershirt would entirely cover her. But she had no other choice. She’d just gotten the undershirt pulled over her head when she was violently thrown sideways into an anchored wall desk.
She tried to grasp some part of the desk, while she heard high-pitched screaming sounds reverberating around her like metal ripping apart. Another herculean lurch threw her through the air and tossed her toward the cot, where her forehead cracked on the frame.
The blow dazed her with a shot of pain so sharp, it brought tears to her eyes, as she crumpled to the deck. The entire ship quaked beneath her back as she gulped back fear and lifted a shaky hand to her temple.
A groan filled her throat as she tried to press back the pain. She rolled onto her side and drew her knees to her chest. She was shaken and confused, her mind numbed by pain, until one coherent thought came to her.
“Bo,” she whispered.
Fear for his well-being rushed through her. Gradually, she realized the ship had stopped shaking and was ominously silent. A wave of nausea attacked her as she struggled to sit. She backed down and tried to catch her breath, squeezing her eyes shut, when she felt a slight trickle of blood on the hand she held to her temple. Because of the nausea and dizziness, she thought she could have a concussion.
Slowly, Cassie opened her eyes; the sharp pain had dulled to an incessant throb, as she carefully looked around.
“I have to get those boots on and go find Bo,” she muttered.