An angry bleat came from the elevator’s control panel, and Ankari jumped.
“I believe someone wants this car,” Jamie observed.
Ankari closed the tablet and waved at the emergency stop button. The doors opened with an angry hiss.
When Ankari stepped outside, she almost expected to be greeted by a squad of Fleet personnel—or perhaps Station Security. But the drab white corridor, identical to the one they had left, was empty. Captain Xu and his people had probably gone down the public lift.
“We heading back to the shuttle?” Jamie asked.
“You are. I need to talk to Viktor.”
“About something more important than earthquake sex?” Jamie tilted her chin at the tablet.
“I’m afraid so.”
* * *
Viktor strode away from the station’s hospital wing, having checked on his injured troops and made funeral and death-payment arrangements for those he had lost. He ground his teeth as he walked, his mood darker than a storm cloud after sending letters to the families of those who had died. Not all of the mercenaries had families. Hutch and Qiao had. That always made it more difficult, especially when he had to try to find a way to say the men had died nobly, not because they were pawns in the machinations of those who craved power and did not care if they destroyed worlds to find it.
His face must have been truly grim, because men and women who had never met him skittered out of his way in the corridors. He couldn’t bring himself to care enough to try and soften his scowl. It would be some time before he could get past the mission, and he was worried about Ankari now too. When she had shown him the purloined tablet, his first thought had been one of pleasure and appreciation, because she was on his side and watching out for him. Later, as he had been filling out paperwork, it had occurred to him that she could get in trouble if that captain came looking for his device. He trusted she was smart enough not to get caught with it, but if the Fleet officer found a vid feed of the mechanics’ shop, he might figure out who was responsible.
As much as he appreciated the idea of having a lover who was also a smart and sly partner, Viktor would hate it if any harm came to Ankari because of her involvement with him. He had already been doubting the intelligence of having her and her lab on his ship, when they regularly flew into combat missions. This time, he’d had advance warning of things on Nimbus getting bad, and they had been close enough to the station that the shuttle could make it there on its own, but that might not always be the case. Was he being selfish, wanting to keep her close?
He snorted. There was no question about it. A mercenary ship was not the appropriate place for a science lab.
As Viktor came out of the quieter hospital wing and headed toward the shop-filled atrium and hub of the station, he reached for his comm-patch, intending to check on Ankari, but it beeped first.
“Mandrake,” he said.
“Garland here,” his second-in-command said. “Are you planning to return to the ship tonight, sir?”
Viktor tried to decide if there was any judgment in Garland’s voice—was he thinking his captain might go to see his girlfriend when the rest of the ship had not been released to seek similar dalliances if they wished? “I’m swinging back by the mechanics’ shop to see if Borage has talked those people down to a reasonable price yet, and then I’ll head back to the ship.”
“You may want to hurry, sir. If you’re intending to return.”
“What do you mean?” Viktor slowed, a holodisplay running a news feed catching his eye. Usually, the reporters would be covering situations from all over the system, but he recognized the trees and balconies of Midway 5’s atrium. A nervous-looking shopkeeper was talking to a reporter while a paramedic pushed a body bag on a gurney out of a shop.
“Lieutenant Sequoia has been sitting at Thomlin’s old station, watching the data feeds for Midway 5, and there’s something going on in there. Two men and a woman died today, all in the shops around the hub there. We’re eavesdropping where we can. The other captains in dock are speculating wildly, but the station itself isn’t answering questions related to it. Don’t know if it’s a medical situation or what, but people are bandying around the word quarantine.”
“Quarantine,” Viktor growled. The word had a foul taste. “The parts we need for repairs been delivered yet?”
“Not yet.”
Viktor growled again. It wouldn’t be so bad if the Albatross was stuck in dock, since they had several days of repairs ahead of them, anyway, but if Midway 5 went on lockdown, people—and equipment—would not be able to move from ship to station and vice versa. “I’ll go bark in someone’s ear, see if we can get that expedited. Borage, Azarov, and I still the only ones over here? Aside from Sanchez and Cheng?” he added, naming the men in the hospital.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, keep it that way. If there is a contagion, we don’t want it on the Albatross.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
“I don’t know—I haven’t seen any of these dead people. They were all found in that shopping area, you say?” Viktor wondered if Ankari had been over that way in the last day or two. In one of their calls, she had mentioned lab rats for Lauren. Viktor had no idea if one purchased lab rats from a store in a shopping mall or from a man in a back alley who also sold ramps, fenwad, and illegal weapons from under the flaps of his trench coat.
“That’s what the limited news coming out of the station says. Why don’t you wander through and investigate, sir? You could pick up some tacky souvenirs. Perhaps some magnets to stick on the bridge consoles. I know how much you like to shop.”
Viktor kept himself from growling again—barely. “We’ve already spent too much on replacement parts. We can’t afford magnets. Keep me apprised. Mandrake, out.”
Commander Garland had barely gotten his, “Yes, sir,” out before Viktor had switched channels to talk to Commander Borage. As he relayed the information—and the need for urgency—to his engineer, he kept walking through the corridors of the station, intending to show up in the machine shop personally, so he could breathe down the mechanics’ necks and ensure everything moved along quickly.
“Yes, sir,” Borage said. “We’re moving a huge load of parts now. Putting the priority on the engines and the shield generator, like you asked for, and I just sent Azarov for more cleaning solution and paint, so we can get the soot off the walls. Despite Sherkov’s suggestion, we’re opting for gray instead of pink.”
“Is that fool still down there harassing you?”
“I think he’s waiting for another chance to harass you. The Fleet captain left, though.”
Viktor reached a busy intersection clogged by a mix of civilians in casual clothing carrying shopping bags and military men carrying duffel bags, probably heading to the hotel blocks and brothels to enjoy some leave. Here and there, Station Security men walked in pairs, their eyes alert and their shoulders tense. Their chins were tilted toward the comm-patches, and many of them were speaking or listening. Clearly a quarantine had not been issued yet, nor was the corridor leading to the atrium blocked off, but trouble did appear to be on the horizon.
Viktor paused, debating if he truly needed to head back to the mechanics’ shop. Borage had sounded like he was handling it. Returning to the ship might not be a good idea, on the chance that some contagion or another had found its way onto the station. It was past the end of the work day, and he had barely slept in the last two weeks. Perhaps he would not be considered derelict in his duty if he sought out Ankari for a visit. Of course, sleep would not be what he wanted to do if he found some time to spend with her.
No, he could wait another day for that. He would go assist Borage.
Viktor had taken no more than a step down the corridor that led to the repair docks when he glimpsed a familiar figure jogging down a moving sidewalk heading in his direction. Ankari.
He stopped, the wishful thought that perhaps fate wanted him to spend time with her popping into his
head. But she did not look like she had sex in mind. She was dodging tourists with strollers and ducking between soldiers so she could make better time on the sidewalk. When she caught his eye and waved, it was an agitated motion. He checked behind her to see if pursuers might be on her heels, but she was the only one running.
“Viktor,” she blurted when they met at the end of the sidewalk. Ankari gripped his arm. “We need to talk.”
“I presume more than sexual longing has driven you to seek me out.” Viktor did a second perusal of the sidewalk, double-checking to make sure none of the Station Security people were after her.
“Yes.” Ankari gave him a quick smirk, but the worried agitation did not leave her eyes. “I’d been led to believe that our longing couldn’t be satisfied until tomorrow, so I tucked it away in a box.”
“A handy skill to have.” Since people were streaming past them, Viktor resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her back, pull her against him, and kiss her. He did tug her away from the stream of passersby, so he could stand with his back to the wall. Being around so many people made him edgy.
“You have a problem,” Ankari said.
“Singular? You’re underestimating my day vastly.” Make that his entire month.
She fished a tablet out of her pocket. “Sorry, I meant to say you have a new problem.”
“How exciting for me.”
She put the display in privacy mode and held a letter up for him to read. A letter addressed to Captain Xu, presumably the Fleet officer she had pick-pocketed earlier. While he read and digested the contents, Viktor kept his face a mask, but his earlier thoughts returned, that Ankari might have placed herself in danger to help him. He did not know why a Fleet admiral wanted him, but he had made many enemies over the years.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” he said. “That’s your tablet—you left the captain’s to be found elsewhere?”
“Found? That will depend on what happens to the garbage that gets put down the chutes in restaurants here.” She leaned against him and patted him on the chest. “I’m hoping for incineration, since there wasn’t time to wipe off fingerprints. I’m afraid some video along the way might have caught Jamie and me poking around in the device too. She’s the reason I was able to get through the passcode.”
For a legitimate business woman, Ankari had quite a few skills and contacts that would help her excel in the galactic underside, should she ever need to do so. Viktor would prefer she not need to do so, however. Being an upstanding GalCon citizen—or at least one who was not wanted by the law—made life easier. If she got into trouble because of him...
He gave in to his earlier urge to wrap an arm around her. “I appreciate having you for an ally, but don’t pick any more pockets on my behalf, Ankari. At least, not military pockets. Fleet has a long memory.”
“Are you concerned about me?” Ankari smiled up at him—not appearing as concerned about herself as she should be. “I’m touched.”
She rose onto her tiptoes, unintentionally—or perhaps intentionally—rubbing against his groin as she did so, and kissed him on the lips. Viktor could feel the heat of her body through their clothing, and his arm tightened around her of its own accord. Even though he kept an eye toward the passersby, always alert for a threat in a busy place, he could not bring himself to turn away from the kiss. His earlier thoughts of leaving Borage to deal with the parts delivery came back to mind, along with the notion of spending the night here on the station. With Ankari.
Perhaps Ankari had intended the kiss to be a quick expression of gratitude or sharing of her feelings, but she did not break away, instead leaning into him more and lifting a hand to curl her fingers around the back of his neck. His body responded, heat charging to his groin, and he longed to deepen the kiss, to touch more of her than the small of her back. But he lifted his chin, pulling his mouth away.
“Ankari,” he breathed, “I want you, but not here.”
For a moment, she merely stared into his eyes, the ardor in hers inflaming him as much as her touch had. Then she glanced to either side of him—most of the people walking past were ignoring them—and seemed to remember that they were in a public space. Her cheeks flushed red, and he delighted in the realization that she wanted him enough that it had distracted her, made her forget propriety.
“I could get a room,” she murmured, “for tonight.”
She had yet to back away from him, and he had yet to lower his hand. He rubbed her back through her shirt, breathing in her scent, even as he wrestled with his sense of duty. True, he had already decided that little could be gained from him going back to the ship that night. It was more the appearance of privilege that concerned him, the fact that the men would know he was off on the station with Ankari when they were denied the chance to go seek companionship of their own.
“I’ve missed you,” Ankari whispered and nuzzled his neck.
The soft brushes of her lips against his skin sent shivers of sensation through his entire body. He grew sharply aware of her every slight movement against his groin. His trousers stretched uncomfortably tight, and he longed to relieve that discomfort.
“Get a room,” Viktor said. “I’ll—”
A comm beeped, the sound muted by clothing. It must have been hers, the unit buried in a pocket, but she did not immediately reach for it. She licked his throat as her fingers shifted through his hair, kneading his scalp. She leaned into him, rubbing against the erection that pressed against her stomach.
“Excited to see me?” she murmured.
“Always.”
If she did not reserve a room, he might have to. All thoughts of checking on the ship had fled his mind. His hand lowered until he could cup her ass, pulling her into him, against him. He longed to tear off her clothes, the passersby be damned.
“We should do something about that,” Ankari whispered below his ear. She stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips along the bottom of his lobe. She sucked playfully at it, and electricity rocketed through his body.
“Ankari,” he growled.
Her comm beeped again.
“Are you going to answer that?” he asked, though he did not care if she did. He simply wanted to move away from the busy area, to take her someplace private. Every now and then, a small black security camera—or perhaps those spheres were news cameras—floated through the intersection. He grimaced, envisioning the men watching him grope his girlfriend on the station feed.
Ankari sighed and nipped at his lobe before dropping down to the flats of her feet. “I don’t know. I’d hate for you to escape if I do.” She licked her lips, her eyes locked on his, and she pressed her palm against his chest, as if to imprison him against the wall.
He grunted. As if he wanted to escape. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
He had not released her, nor did he intend to. He had to fight to keep from rocking his hips into her, giving in to the ache in his groin. Neither of them would find satisfaction with their clothes on, and those Station Security men getting off the sidewalk might object to public nudity.
“What is it?” Ankari murmured into her comm unit.
“The rat store is still closed,” Lauren announced.
“You went by yourself?” Ankari rolled her eyes at the silliness of the interruption, but she sounded amused, too, as if the likelihood of her microbiologist wandering around the station was low. Maybe it was. Viktor had rarely seen Lauren out of her lab.
“Jamie and I went. She said something about it perhaps being a good time not to be in the shuttle, in case visitors came. I didn’t get the full story there. But Ankari, this is unacceptable. What kind of space station doesn’t have rats?”
“I’m sure they’re there. The shopkeeper is probably sick. Or drunk. Or arrested.”
Viktor was about to make a comment on the bodies that had been found, but his own comm-patch beeped. Reluctantly, he released Ankari, letting her back away to continue her conversation while he started one of his own. H
e closed the flaps of his duster coat so the elderly ladies getting off the sidewalk with arms full of shopping bags would not think his trouser cannon had armed itself for them.
“Mandrake here.”
“Sir? It’s Sequoia. There’s a Captain Sherkov trying to get a hold of you. Do you want me to route him through to you?”
Viktor scowled. No, he did not. If not for the information Ankari had given him, Viktor would have told his lieutenant to hang up on the captain, preferably after playing some obnoxious hold music for a long time, perhaps that Goran tribal music that sounded like flatulent men beating drums. But he would be wise to gather whatever information he could related to the upcoming Fleet meeting and this admiral who wanted Viktor detained. His scowl deepened as he realized that quarantine could be particularly problematic if it meant the Albatross was still here when an armada of Fleet ships arrived. He would hope nothing came of those dead bodies, because his ship was in no position to leave yet.
“Do it,” Viktor said and braced himself.
“Captain Mandrake,” came Sherkov’s obnoxious drawl. “I’ve reconsidered your offer.”
“What offer?” Viktor asked.
“I would indeed like to test my fighting prowess against yours in the station gym tonight. They say you were Crimson Ops once. Do you remember anything they taught you, or have you been too busy painting your shuttles in sissy colors to practice on the mat?”
Viktor would have spat out an immediate response, but he was clenching his teeth too tightly to pry words from his mouth. A few feet away, Ankari was still murmuring back and forth with Lauren, but she must have heard Sherkov, because she frowned over at Viktor’s comm-patch.
“What changed your mind?” he asked, though he would have had to be brain-dead not to recognize a trap being set up. “You almost wet yourself earlier today when I suggested the match.”
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