Tracker and the Spy

by D. Jackson Leigh

  “No. Father wouldn’t, but we could—”

  “Diego knows where he and Simon sought medical help. We’ll go there tomorrow when the day-shift people—the ones we’ll need to question—are working.”

  “Right. Makes sense.” Kyle felt foolish. Tan was right. She hadn’t been any help at all.

  Oni led them to a tiny room that had two thick sleeping pads on the floor with only about a half meter of space between them. “It’s not much, but it’s got a door you’ll probably want to close so you can sleep. People are always up walking around out here. There’s a personal facility just down the hall.” She glanced toward the room where Haley was talking to Zack. “We’re a little short on blankets, but I can see if I find a couple.”

  “This is great. Thanks,” Kyle said. “We’ve got our bedrolls, so we don’t need blankets.”

  Oni looked relieved. “Okay. Well, breakfast is at zero-seven-hundred. We don’t have much, but you’re welcome to join us.”

  Tan pulled a sack from her pack and handed it to Oni. “We have our own rations, but let me contribute coffee for everyone.”

  “Wow. This is kind of hard to get in the city. Thanks.” She waved as she headed toward the food-prep area, clutching the bag close.

  They both stripped off their boots but didn’t undress. After separate trips to the personal facility, they closed the door and settled in the dark.

  Kyle listened to Tan’s soft breathing. She could see Tan’s profile in the faint light that filtered under the door. The memories of that dark cave, of Tan naked and so beautiful squeezed the breath from Kyle’s lungs. The silence was crushing her.

  “Are we ever going to talk about it?” she asked.

  “No.” Tan’s abrupt answer turned the knife of guilt that’d been sticking in Kyle’s gut all day.

  “I…I just wanted…I need to say I’m sorry.” She tensed for the explosion of temper she expected. Instead, Tan opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, her brow furrowing. Kyle rushed to explain. “Somehow, I got caught up in the frenzy. I never meant to lose control and be so rough.” She paused, her next words almost a whisper to herself. “You’re so beautiful. I wanted to go slow and be gentle.”

  Tan frowned, her eyes still fixed on the ceiling in the dim light.

  Kyle started to rise on her elbow. “Tan—”

  Faster than Kyle could draw a breath, Tan rolled across the narrow space and pinned her to the pallet. Her eyes were fierce, but all Kyle could think about were the hips pressing against hers, the hard nipples she could feel through the thin cotton of their T-shirts. Tan’s hand was in her hair, jerking her head back. She claimed Kyle in a hard, rough kiss of teeth and tongue, and scraped her nails over Kyle’s taut left nipple. Kyle groaned with the onslaught of arousing sensations and writhed under Tan’s weight. She was taller, but Tan was strong, much stronger.

  “You think because you caught me under the influence of Phyrrhos’ breeding frenzy that you know what I want?” Tan pinched Kyle’s nipple and twisted hard. Kyle reflexively tried to pull away from the pain, but Tan tightened her grip on Kyle’s hair and forced her thigh between Kyle’s. “Maybe I like it rough.” She jerked her thigh hard against Kyle’s wet crotch and twisted her nipple again.

  “Tan.” Kyle wasn’t sure if her strangled word was a plea to stop or continue. Tan didn’t seem to care. Sweet tension began to build low in Kyle’s belly as Tan continued to pump against her crotch. She pushed Kyle’s T-shirt up, nipping and sucking her tender breasts.

  “Tan.” She groaned out her name when her body bowed tight as orgasm bloomed and held her there for several incredible seconds. She collapsed to the pallet again, her heart pounding, and Tan abruptly rolled off.

  “That’s what I do. I top. I jump and run. I don’t cuddle and plan a bonding ceremony the next morning.” Her words were hard and bitter. “If you want to apologize for something, it should be for taking advantage of me when I wasn’t in control of myself.”

  Kyle flushed hot—with anger or embarrassment—it didn’t matter. She had never, she would never take advantage of any woman. To her dismay, her eyes filled with tears as she lay there still wet and panting. Stars, warriors didn’t cry. Kyle tugged her shirt down to cover her breasts and the hollow ache in her chest. Still, she felt so exposed. “I was trying to help, not take advantage.” The words came out as a whisper, but, thankfully, her voice held no tremor.

  “If I ever hear you’ve been bragging about it, I’ll burn your tongue off.”

  Kyle should be furious. She should stab Tan with angry words. She should tell her that maybe Tan was the bragging type, but she wasn’t. Anger was Kyle’s usual response. Yet instead of rage, her heart bled for the fear at the root of Tan’s mistrust. Tan didn’t need the resentment she sought to provoke. She needed understanding.

  “What happened is only between us. It will always be only between us, Tan.”

  ❖

  Azar circled high on the edge of the great city of Brasília, with Bero and Potawatomi trailing his path. Furcho activated his earpiece and signaled the others to do the same, necessary equipment without Jael present to communicate orders telepathically.

  “We could spend a lifetime trying to find them in the city. The warehouse is near the rail station on the other side of town. Our best bet is to start there and hunt outward. We’ll skirt the city to the north to avoid air traffic.”

  “Check,” Raven said.

  “Confirmed,” Diego said.

  Unlike the villages, which were quiet in the long, cool hours before dawn broke, the city never slept. They finally found a muddy lot between two abandoned warehouses, inhabited only by a couple of men sitting against one building and passing a nearly empty bottle of tequila between them. They landed and each pressed their foreheads to their bonded dragon horse, then released them to go find safe pasture for their daytime transformation into horses.

  The two men stared at them with bloodshot eyes.

  The first man wiped at his eyes, as if to clear them. “Did you see—”

  “No, man. I didn’t see nothing. The tequila must be bad. You just think you saw flying horses,” the second man said. He poured the few remaining drops onto the ground.

  “You saw them, too,” the first man said, turning to him.

  “Nope. Didn’t see anything.”

  “Then how’d you know they were flying horses?”

  “Just a guess.” He rose unsteadily to his feet. “I’m gonna surprise my old lady and go home. Flying horses. You must be crazy. I must be crazy.”

  The first man staggered to his feet, glancing at Furcho, Diego, and Raven as they approached. “Wait. I’m coming, too.” He jogged to catch up to his departing friend.

  Diego picked up the abandoned bottle and sniffed it before walking to a nearby waste receptacle to discard it. “Smells like perfectly fine tequila to me.”

  Furcho smiled. “But flying horses? Really, Diego. What will they think of next?”

  They chuckled as they strolled down the dimly lit street, trailed by Raven, dark and silent.

  ❖

  Simon’s transport slowed to a stop in front of an expensive Brasília hotel. “Finally, some decent accommodations.” He climbed out of the transport as his assistant came around to unload their luggage. “Make sure we have a suite and aren’t disturbed before noon. I need to sleep.” It was well after midnight, his arm ached, and he was bone weary. “Have our local guy come for a meet at one o’clock and order food for everybody.”

  “You got it, Boss.”

  “You’re with me, Doc,” Simon said. “I need something more to dull this pain.” He pressed the digital gauge of the medical cuff again. “This thing isn’t doing the job.”

  “You’re doing that too often,” the doctor warned him softly. “You’ve probably already damaged the nerves in your arm.”

  “Shut up.” Sweat trickled down Simon’s temple as he clenched his teeth and waited for the fire in his arm to abate. If he eve
r saw that pervert Cyrus had sired again, he’d make her pay for burning his hand to a crisp. He rubbed his face. The pain was wearing him down, and he needed to be sharp. It was time to form a plan to get rid of Cyrus and take over this operation. He’d had enough of these Natural Order freaks. The world he’d raise up from these disasters would be every man for himself. The guy with the most credits has the most power. That was the real natural order of things.

  And he’d be the guy on top of it all.

  Chapter Nine

  Tan spotted Kyle hunched over her coffee, her pro-chow bar only half eaten.

  “Finish your breakfast. Time to mount up, Blaze,” she said, standing and waving Haley over. “Diego received some new information this morning, so we’re going to pay a visit to a couple of believers who are holding a doctor’s family hostage.”

  Although Tan had turned toward the wall, she’d lain awake and listened to Kyle toss and turn for several hours. When she heard faint talking, she rolled back to find Kyle had fallen into an exhausted slumber that made her jerk and mumble indecipherable words. Tan wanted to go to her, to soothe her troubled dreams. But she couldn’t. Finally, she’d settled into a light, restless sleep, too.

  Jael was the only person to whom Tan had ever wanted to completely give herself. But the soul-bond was missing between them. Although she was inexplicably drawn to Kyle, Phyrrhos was the only bond she was capable of making. Blaze deserved more, just like Jael deserved the mate she’d finally found in Alyssa. Tan knew she would never be worthy. She was stained from many lifetimes ago. That’s why she still punished herself with Anya. That’s why she could not soul-bond.

  She wished Kyle had just let what happened between them stay in the cave. So, when she insisted on bringing it up, Tan didn’t even think. She just reacted. She didn’t want to hurt Kyle, but she needed Kyle to see they could only be colleagues. Yesterday, it seemed like they might become a workable team in this hunt. But now they weren’t speaking again. So, her plan was the same as with everybody she pissed off—which was just about everybody she knew. She’d just act like nothing happened and give Kyle the chance to do the same.

  Kyle rose without a word, draining her cup and stuffing the rest of the pro-chow bar into her pocket. “I’m done.”

  Tan sat on the table and put her booted feet on the bench next to where Kyle had been. She pointed to the bench, pulled out a bar for herself, and set two bottles of water next to her. “Sit back down. First rule of tracking—take care of your body. You may not feel hungry, but your body needs fuel to burn for energy.” She held up her bar and peeled back the wrapper before shoving one of the water bottles over to Kyle. “Stay hydrated. Drink all of that and finish your bar while I eat mine.”

  Kyle complied without protest, finishing before Tan did. Haley joined them, and Tan chugged the last of her water. She took both water bottles and deposited them in a recycle bin, then looked at Kyle and Haley.

  “Okay. I’m not your mother, but does anybody need to go to the personal facility? Because the first person who says ‘are we there yet’ or ‘I’ve got to pee’ is going to get left behind.”

  Haley laughed at her joke, but Kyle’s eyes narrowed before she turned and walked away.

  “Hey, where’s she going?”

  Tan shook her head. “She doesn’t trust me and probably thinks I’m planning a long trip. So she’s gone to the personal facility, just in case.”

  “But we’re just going across town.”

  “I haven’t told her exactly where we’re heading.”

  Haley stared at her. “You guys are kind of weird together. I thought she was going to fry Zack when she thought he was disrespecting you yesterday. And you almost burned Zack’s nose off when he started to tell everybody what she was thinking. But in the next minute, you act like strangers.”

  Tan shifted under Haley’s scrutiny. What did she care what this kid thought? “I usually track alone. I’m not used to having to haul somebody else along with me.” She shrugged. “Maybe I forget to share stuff sometimes, and she gets all bent about it.”

  Haley looked skeptical but shrugged. “Not any of my business.”

  Kyle was striding toward them, their two featherweight rain ponchos folded over one arm. She handed one to Tan. “It’s raining outside.” She looked at Haley. “Sorry. We don’t have a third.”

  Haley waved her off. “No problem. I’ve got rain gear.”

  ❖

  Raven rested a shoulder against the side of the warehouse. There was absolutely no security. She’d walked in freely and seen stacks of crates labeled for rural destinations that should have been transported out within days of their arrival. Their shipping labels, however, indicated they’d arrived at least two weeks ago.

  While she was checking the warehouse, Diego and Furcho paid one of the workers to use his solar cycle to go into the city. Diego planned to meet a local contact, while Furcho visited the Chief Advocate at the Cathedral of Brasília, an impressive structure that remained from before The Great Religion Wars. She peered up at the sun, already so bright it pierced through the dark glasses screening her eyes. It had to be at least zero-nine-hundred.

  She was hungry and hoping for something better than the pro-chow bars they’d been eating for the past two days it took to fly the dragon horses from the base camp. She wondered, not for the first time, about their disadvantage. The Natural Order guys could hop in a solar plane and cover the same distance in hours. Was The Collective’s downfall going to be its adherence to ancient methods? She had to believe the First Warrior had considered this possibility.

  Raven abandoned her ruminations when she spotted Furcho and Diego motoring toward her. She jumped out of the way as Diego brought the cycle to a jerking, wobbly halt.

  “I told you I should steer.” Furcho raised his voice over the noise of his boots scraping across the gravel as he put his feet down to steady them.

  A couple of men peeked out from the warehouse entrance to see who was yelling.

  “You’re too tall. I can’t see anything when you’re in the front,” Diego said, matching Furcho’s volume and irritation.

  Furcho hopped off the cycle and began brushing dust from his clothes. He was very fastidious about his appearance. “Unfortunately, I can see over you—everything we’re about to hit.”

  “We didn’t hit anything. That man jumped up on the curb.”

  “Gentlemen,” Raven said, hoping to quiet them. She’d rarely seen Furcho rattled.

  “You ran over his chicken.” Furcho’s face was red, and he practically sputtered as he stared incredulously at Diego.

  “He was taking it to the butcher anyway. Dead now or dead later. What does it matter?”

  Raven held up her hands and shouted. “Guard.” They looked at her. She gestured toward the warehouse where a group of men stood, still watching them. She lowered her voice to a normal tone. “You’re acting like a couple of schoolboys, and your playground audience is starting to lay bets on who’s going to throw the first punch.”

  “You’re right, Raven. Thank you.” Furcho closed his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Diego.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Diego said. “We’re here in one piece, right? No problems.”

  “I have no idea what’s gotten into me. I think—never mind. It’s nothing.” Furcho rubbed his face. “Tell me what you found.”

  “Lots of crates that arrived several weeks ago and haven’t been shipped out to the rural distribution stations.”

  “What did the quartermaster say?” Diego asked.

  “He hadn’t arrived yet when I asked,” Raven said. “I just walked right in, looked around all I wanted, and nobody even asked who I was or what I was doing.”

  “That’s odd,” Furcho said. “If The Natural Order has control of the warehouse, there’d already be security in place. But if they don’t, those crates should have been shipped.”

  “Maybe the quartermaster is here now,” Raven said.

  Furch
o hesitated. “We don’t have the authority to demand an accounting.”

  “Didn’t you see the Chief Advocate of the city?” she asked.

  “No. The Natural Order believers have taken over the temple. We still need to find out what happened to the Advocates who lived there.”

  “My contact has lodging for us and has arranged a gathering this afternoon,” Diego said.

  “Then we should get a few hours of sleep,” Furcho said. “I’ll report to Jael, and then we’ll meet with the other citizens.”

  A man approached from the warehouse. “You’re back, I see.”

  “Yes,” Diego answered. “Thank you for the use of your cycle. We’ve returned it without a scratch on it.”

  “Only a little chicken blood,” Furcho said under his breath.

  “Good, good.” The man nodded. “I see the credits are already transferred. Thank you very much.”

  “Say, friend.” Raven stopped the man as he started to wheel the cycle toward the warehouse entrance. “Can you tell me why the crates for the rural distribution centers haven’t been shipped out?”

  “No. Can’t say.” The man glanced toward the warehouse.

  “The shipping labels indicate they arrived several weeks ago, but they’re still sitting there,” she said.

  The man shifted nervously. “You want to know, go ask the head quartermaster. I just do what I’m told to do.”

  “People need the food and medicine that are in those crates,” Furcho said. “What if it were your mother or child who needed medicine or was hungry?”

  “Go away. Quit asking questions. It’ll get you in trouble.” The man began backing away. “I don’t want trouble. I’m trying to keep my job so I can feed my family, okay?”

  ❖

  Cyrus stared at his plate. Fish again. Was that all they had on board to eat?

  “What’s the matter, Boss?” Luke, one of his guards, picked the white, flaky flesh from his fish and arranged it on a large flour tortilla with beans, avocado, and salsa.