Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1)

by J. D. Hale

  But the noise was what really reminded me of home. The force field around the entire property buzzed, a low hum that let me know that it was working correctly.

  In the late morning light, I could see the slate cliffs behind the house, the very bit of nature that had inspired the estate. The bright gray stone of the cliffs with the pristine, rippling white waterfall had been a source of constant creative inspiration over the years. Thirty or so waterfalls cascaded down into the white rainforest, and then splashing back up so high you began to believe they would touch the sun.

  I forgot about Rowan, about Salah, about everything that was daunting over me as I took in what I longed for. Simply being in front of this dream of mine was enough to lighten my mood and put a broad grin across my face.

  “Kairee?” Salah asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “What?” I replied dreamily, glancing at him. Somehow, in the light of my home sun, Salah’s face looked angelic and inviting.

  Or maybe I was just a bit delirious.

  “Are you alright? Never mind…are you going to teach me how to fight or what?”

  I regained my composure, “I’ll try to teach you, but at this point, I’m not sure you can learn.” I told him with a glint of suspicion in my eye.

  He couldn’t think up a snappy comeback fast enough before I was walking into my home next to my brother.

  “Listen, now that we’re back on Saize-”

  “And thank god for that,” Rowan cut me off, “and I know what you’re going to say. And of course, you’re right. We’ll have to pay a visit to the Prime Minister soon. I think we should do it tomorrow, as she’ll be at the local convention center, in the capital. Although, we’ll need some extreme disguises to even get in there, considering we’re even more wanted than we were a week ago, if that’s possible.” He said with a smirk in my direction.

  “You’re right, as usual, and reading my mind. The question is: how will we disguise ourselves, three of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy, on such short notice?” I toyed with many possibilities in my head as Rowan thought on it. Wigs and sunglasses are out of the question – much too obvious, plus eye scans and DNA tests are required to even enter a building when the Prime Minister is in it.

  I sucked in a breath when I first stepped into the mansion. The first room visible to the door was one of three living rooms I had put in. This one, compared to the rest, was much less high-tech. It was more of a place to relax. There was a large water features at the center of the back wall that cascaded down in to a hot tub. The room was steamy and added the certain sultry feel I was looking for with this room. There were large white, soft leather couches around a blue tinted glass coffee table. There was light teak wood and white carpet, the colors in the room accented by the pristine white floor and dazzling water features.

  “Salah,” I said, turning to him, “we’re going to visit the Prime Minister tomorrow. You can see who runs my planet, and we have to get her signature on a ‘permission slip’ of sorts. We need her signature to let us in to the Institute.”

  He looked momentarily confused, “You have a system of government?”

  “Of course!” I laughed, “Did you think we were just a bunch of barbaric people running around a hardly habited or something?”

  “Or something,” He smiled.

  “Anyways, going to see the Prime Minister has a tendency to mean that we’ll be performing a phenomenal and risky escape, as I like to go big and freak the public out, so you’ll need to do some training with me, learn how to do things the way we do – the dangerous way.” I smirked, looking forward to destroying him again.

  “Alright,” He said, his eyes smoldering with something I couldn’t exactly put my mind on, “When and where?”

  “Ten minutes, outside. I’ll meet you out there soon,” I replied, calculating how big the chance was that I would win.

  I went to the closest elevator – through the kitchen, down a hall, and through a room full of traps. The golden elevator was huge, much larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside.

  Rowan and Salah were bickering in the front room.

  I decided quickly that I had enough, but not enough to take violent means.

  “Salah!” I yelled, “Come down here! I’ve got to show you your rooms!”

  I heard his most likely designer boots clicking down on the wood floor while he walked towards me. Rowan’s own, almost silent footsteps found my ears as he walked towards the steps. Rowan, for some reason, always took stairs when there was a perfectly good elevator near us. Whatever.

  “So,” Salah began as the elevator opened, “What’s the Prime Minister’s name?”

  “Areesta Nayathi,” I replied, “She’s amazing, really. If she was ruthless, she would make quite the ally.”

  “Your government leader is a woman?” He seemed surprised.

  “Yes. I simply can’t believe that in way more than forty presidents, Earth’s wealthiest and strongest country has never had a female leader.”

  “Is that surprising to you? They’ve had one female president over there, but she was assassinated in months. Plus, I’ve always been under the impression that men are more qualified to lead in government.” He replied, lighting a fire in me.

  “Oh?” I replied, my eyes narrowing, “As a very, very powerful female in this universe, one that you, a man, are currently serving under, I find that statement more than a little offensive. So offensive, in fact, that I may just have to pummel you into a pulp in ten minutes.”

  “I apologize then, if you beat me.” He smirked, and the elevator opened.

  “Okay. Come with me.” We were on the fifth floor, where the various bedrooms are.

  “Kairee?” I heard my mother’s voice from down the hall.

  I let out a sigh of relief, and then sucked in a breath of fear – both at the thought of my mother.

  “Follow me.” I whispered to Salah. I started clicking off down the hall, in the direction of my mother. When we reached her door, I opened it and checked the room for any problems.

  Then, I saw her.

  My mother’s face had several cuts across her cheeks, a bruise over her left eye. For some odd reason, her natural ability to heal had not some into affect.

  “Oh my god.” I said, and then with malice, “Who did this to you?”

  “It was Dmitri Ivanov.” She replied shakily.

  I clenched my fist, my nails digging into my flesh.

  “I’m going to kill him!” I shouted, raging.

  “Kairee, calm down. It could’ve been worse. And I trust that you’ll take care of him for me. I simply couldn’t fight him off, that’s all. I’m getting too old for this criminal life.” She sighed.

  “Mom, don’t say that. I’ll take care of Dmitri the way I take care of everyone who bothers me, but before I do, I have someone for you to meet. This,” I said, gesturing for Salah to come over, “is Salah.”

  I could only pray that Dmitri would be at the Prime Minister’s meeting tomorrow, where I could kill him in the public eye.

  “Dear god,” She said, looking him over, “You look just like your father. It makes me want to brutally destroy you.” She said, not a drip of humor in her voice.

  “I’ve got it covered, mother.” I smiled, inwardly seething, “I’ll be showing Salah to his rooms, and then we’ll be…training him.” I replied with another glower at Salah.

  “Alright. Don’t go easy on him, dear.”

  “Never.”

  We left the room and I walked directly down the other hallway, toward my rooms, Rowan’s, and the spare rooms, where Salah would be staying.

  “The black door in the middle is mine, the red one is Rowan’s, and the white one on the left is yours.” I nodded toward his door, “I hope you like it, as I designed each of the rooms myself.”

  “I’m sure I will. I’ll meet you outside then.”

  I walked into my room, smiling at it. This is, of course, my favorite suite that I had ever de
signed. The front room is silver and blue, out of my usual color theme. More floor to ceiling windows were on the back wall, looking out on a view of the waterfalls that I had fallen in love with as a child. The silver curtains blew around as if in a breeze. On the wall was a large painting, 36x36. The painting itself was of a bright white birch tree with a pristine silver sky behind it. Of course, the painting itself isn't important at all; what is important is the safe behind it. In that safe is something that I will reveal later.

  In this room sat a white couch, a silver desk and computer, and a broad archway leading into my bedroom, where the largest bed I had ever purchased sat invitingly. The blankets were white silk with bright blue embroidery and my silver calligraphy initials. There were ten pillows on top of my double king size bed, all made of lavish material from foreign lands.

  And then there’s my closet.

  My closet in Saize would be the envy of every woman and teenage girl in the entire world, if they were to see it. The closet is about the size of the kitchen, so fairly large. This is the house where I really indulged my every want. There are several closets inside of it, containing all of my favorite articles of clothing, from sparring clothes to formal attire. Drawers on the side of the room – at least thirty of them – are filled with priceless jewelry; diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and rare gems found only on my home planet – umanis, a rare, bright blue crystal, saindas, bright yellow gems that can grow as large as my head, and ikielies, an effervescent, neon gem worth more than eighty billion dollars for a half carat piece the size of a bead. I sold one to the forty-fourth president of the United States and he gave me four trillion for it – and that’s why the economy crashed. In one of the closets is a whole scene of disguise things, from body paint and vibrantly colored contacts that’ll actually cover my black eyes to fake noses and hundreds of pairs of glasses. But my favorite features are the shoe racks. From the ceiling, if I pressed a series of buttons on the wall, floor to ceiling racks of shoes, each holding a hundred or so pairs, came down in front of me. In total, I believe I had four-thousand pairs of shoes in this house, all catalogued so I’d be able to find them, no matter what room they ended up.

  I pulled off my dangling diamond earrings and necklace and placed them carefully into a case, and then walked over to one of the closets that contained light sparring clothes, mostly form fitting tank tops and shorts. Of course, I could fight in anything I happened to have on at the time, but it was simply much easier to wear comfortable, casual clothes to brutally attack people. So, I put on a red sports bra, (knowing that I would probably get hit in the stomach and not wanting to have to change to heal myself) and a pair of black shorts, becoming mentally prepared for another fight. I put my hair up in a ponytail, exposing my tattoos. I had gotten the first on the back of my neck, and then decided to get the second next to it.

  The first is a diamond, because I stole one of earth’s priceless artifacts, the Sceptre with the Cross, some king’s scepter, after it was redesigned to hold the Cullinan I, the second largest polished diamond on Earth, weighing 530.4 carats. It’s kept in my home Lair on Saize. The second tattoo is of a golden bullet, shot out of the most expensive and powerful gun in the universe, the Kalim 7v5, perfected on the planet Neara, a gun that can shoot thirty-thousand miles per second. I stole it from the reigning monarch on Neara, King Thama VI. Both tattoos had the date I had stolen them under the picture itself, one from when I was twelve, the other when I was fourteen. I’ve tried to do one crime a week, except for big ones, so I reach a hundred every two years, with a moth to plan a spectacular crime in between.

  I thought back to my fight with Salah, trying not to be distracted.

  I had already decided not to use my mental powers to break him down, so I would have to simply use my wits and sheer strength to possibly break several of his bones. Now that I have the healing formulas that Hearthwood gave me, I wouldn’t have to go easy on him anymore, and I was forced to assume he wouldn’t extend that courtesy to me, either. I slipper the healing things in my back pocket.

  After I had changed, I walked out of my room and walked down the hallway. I decided quickly to take the stairs, a premature warm-up. I ran into Rowan when I reached the bottom floor.

  “Take these, will you?” I asked, placing the tubes and spray bottle in his hand, “I plan on breaking several of Salah’s bones, so I’ll need those later.”

  “I see you’re ready as always. I really hope you’re planning on avenging my loss.” He said quietly.

  “I don’t think that ‘loss’ was really that. I think that since the police were screwing with your brain, it was pretty much a cheap shot on Salah’s part,” I smiled.

  “I know. But he technically won, so let me just say that he won a bet involving you.”

  “What?!” I asked, angry and shocked, “What did I tell you about betting on my fights?”

  “Well, we didn’t exactly bet on your fight, per say. It was more about you physically.”

  I said, knowing where this was going, “You didn’t.”

  “I did, actually.”

  “How could you?! You know I don’t believe in relationships with co-conspirators! I yelled angrily.

  “I never thought he would win!”

  “Yeah, you obviously didn’t think at all about that little situation!” I said, my rage boiling over more than a little. I do now know for a fact that Salah is paying too much attention to me for a reason that’s been prevalent through the small stay together. Though, I hate to admit, Salah is stunningly attractive and I might be a little engrossed in him, but at this point the Xeron is my first and only priority.

  “Kai, calm down. When I beat him today in a rematch, I win the bet.”

  I took a deep breath to avoid hitting him in the face.

  “Well then, if you don’t win, I will punch you so many times you’ll breathe through your forehead.” I said seriously.

  He chuckled and we walked outside together, where I saw Salah stretching. I personally, unlike most, don’t care about stretching since I’m already in top physical condition, ready to beat everyone and anyone who comes at me.

  I walked up to him and he stopped stretching, immediately smiling at me.

  “So, what did you think of the rooms?” I asked in an attempt to be innocuous.

  “Cut the crap and let’s fight.” He replied seriously, shocking me.

  “Alright. I hope you know that I won’t go easy on you now that I can heal you faster than I could before.” I told him.

  “Is that why you were going easy on me before?” He asked suggestively.

  “I was worried you couldn’t take it.” I said honestly.

  “Well we’ll find out, now that my ribs have healed since the last time you broke them.”

  “I’ll just have to fix that then.” I said as I stepped into a stance of battle, “No count, just come at me.”

  I waited for about thirty painstaking seconds, and then he ran at me, taking me by a bit of a shock. But then I was on my game. As he tried to grab me by the wrist, I put him in a headlock and flipped him onto the ground. He jumped up immediately and then took a hit at my face, landing a square punch on my jaw, thoroughly enraging me. That’s the second time he’s hit my face. I slapped my hand across his face as he did mine a week ago, left four scratches parallel across his cheek. Then I cracked his shoulder with a sideways punch. He punched me in the stomach, but his fist just bounced off my stomach muscles. Of course, I could still feel the crunch of my ninth and tenth ribs. Enraged, I allowed my full power to pulse through my muscles, setting my soul on fire as I sent a right hook at his shoulder, a distraction. Although by now, he knew I would attempt a distraction, so I employed a counter distraction, what he would perceive as my real move. In the moment of his block, I jumped in the air and kicked him in the chest, leaving him struggling for balance. During his split second of weakness, I elbowed him in the side, punched him in the neck, and kicked in his left shin, breaking it. He collapsed on
the ground, but in strong persistence grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the ground, where he smiled at me. Even with a leg broken, he managed to get onto one of his knees, and, in a rather pathetic manner, elbow me in the stomach, landing a serious blow. As his arm made contact with my torso, I grabbed his hands and crushed them inside of mine, using the full force of my strength, quelling any tiny dreams he still possessed of winning.

  “Surrender?” I asked, “I don’t want to have to break any more of you bones.”

  “I surrender. Fix them now, will you?” He cringed through the pain.

  “Alright.” I walked toward him and Rowan came toward me, handing me the healing implements.

  “Give me your hands.” I said. Once I had his hands, I rubbed the white cream across them and felt them heal under mine. I could still feel my broken ribs, cracked terribly close to my sternum. If Salah’s blow had been one inch over, I wouldn’t have been able to heal it. They say a break in your sternum is the worst because the tip of the bone can break off and pierce your heart. When I looked at his leg, I felt almost bad about it. It was an open fracture, and the bone was poking through his skin, just above his ankle. I spread the blue gel over it, and as the skin closed, I spread on the bone healing cream on my leg, and then over my ribs, where I felt the bones in my chest reforming themselves.

  “Alright, since I win, I get to watch while you fight Rowan. And Row,” I reminded him, “If you don’t win, we’ll be fighting later, and I won’t be civil.” I threatened.

  Salah obviously caught on to why I was mad at my brother, “Oh I can assure you he won’t.” Salah cut in.

  “Rowan better win, or I’ll skin you both due to your own stupidity.” I growled.

  “Fantastic.” Rowan chuckled, “On that note, I believe we should fight.”