Breaking Chance

by Kim Knox

  “You’ve kept him busy. My soldiers were starting to enjoy the show in the tube. Shame Ramius didn’t get to fuck you a final time.” His hard grin deepened. “Did he promise to save you? He promised that to Chloe too.”

  He meant to stab at her, but she twitched a returning smile and shrugged. “He was a very pleasant fuck. For a psychopath.”

  West laughed, gripped her arm, pressing hard against the bruises the guards had left. She sucked in a breath and let herself be tugged across the room. He changed the subject. “Earth blocked my interrogations, demanded a trial. But if he escaped and came after me, a senior colonial official…” His words trailed away. “Then they have no jurisdiction.”

  “You want to kill him? Your chancellor already ordered that.” Chance held down a wince. Shit. She wasn’t supposed to care one way or the other about Ramius. Her words stank of involved emotion.

  “Spacing Ramius? Ten seconds of watching him boil before he loses consciousness? Where would be the fun in that? Honestly.” The grey wall rippled and an arch formed into another room. “No, I have plans for John Ramius.”

  “And me?”

  Soft light flared around the small, square room and its uncomfortably red walls lined with heavy swathes of fabric. Deep couches faced each other in the centre of the room. West pushed her towards one of the couches, and she flopped into the enveloping cushion. “You’re my bait.” He moved to a gold-trimmed unit, and a glass slid forward onto the curved lip, filled close to the brim with a deep amber liquid. Lifting the glass, he inhaled and let out a slow sigh. “Ramius can’t resist a woman in distress.”

  Chance eased herself back onto the couch, her gaze darting around the room. Again nothing, except the couches and the food unit and far too much fabric. The urge to open her implant tugged at her…but despite his saying he had no interest in hacking her brain, she didn’t believe him. The knowledge that he’d murdered her family burst back over her and she fought the wild surge of adrenalin. Her fingers clawed into her palm and she deliberately placed them on her lap. Her chin lifted. “He won’t come for me.”

  West sipped at his drink and his head tilted. An eyebrow lifted. “You underestimate how much Chloe is a part of his soul.”

  “Why do you want him dead?”

  His eyes narrowed on her. “A nosy thief.”

  Chance shrugged and her gut tightened. The hard gleam in the governor’s eyes had even her nerve failing. She pushed down the fear. It wasn’t any use right then. “Story of my life.”

  “Dark energy is the future.” West emptied his glass, expelled a quick breath and slid it back onto the lip of the food unit. Then he moved, easing out of her eye-line, and Chance willed her body to stay loose, ready. His boots crushed into the deep carpet, and the sound of his even breaths said he moved behind her and stopped.

  “Chloe, against the orders of Earth, brought dark energy to the Jovian colonies, wanted to use it to stop our exploitation of our workers.”

  His hands fell heavy on her shoulders, fingertips digging hard into her collarbones. Chance willed her eyes open, fixing them on the arch leading into the main room. For an insane second, she wanted to imagine Ramius, could almost see him there. But Ramius wouldn’t wait. He would remove West’s head with a single Etuis-90 blast.

  “Ms. Van Der Zee considered herself above the law.” West yanked her up, and she bit back a pained yelp as she scrambled to find balance. He gripped her in hard hands, his mouth close to her ear. “She considered everyone else inferior, simply thought she could set up a fair trade outpost and the Jovian outer governor would capitulate.” Chance sucked in a sharp breath at the press of a cold blade against her throat. “That he’d fall before her charm, beauty and wisdom—”

  “No. Instead he sent you.”

  Ramius. Chance stiffened and the serrated metal dug into her skin. Blood leaked hot against her neck. Her lips parted, but his name didn’t break from her mouth.

  John Ramius stood in the archway, his weapon aimed at her.

  Chapter Eleven

  “John, how good to see you again.”

  West’s smooth, smug voice stabbed into his gut. He still had that thin cut of a smile, the one that made Ramius want to stick a knife in his belly and twist it ever so slowly to watch the smile dissolve second by second into screams. Ramius’ fingers flexed around his weapon, its soft thrum vibrating into his shoulder. No, he couldn’t jump ahead of himself.

  His gaze flicked over Chance, tense, half-perched on the straight back of the couch. His jaw tightened as he caught the rivulet of blood staining her neck and shirt. Shit. This was not happening again. Not again. “Let her go, West.”

  The slice of a smile widened into a sharp grin. “Déjà vu, John? You demanded that last time. Wanted me to release Chloe.” His arm pulled Chance hard against him, the dagger’s sharp edge digging deeper into her throat. For a brief second, she closed her eyes, and Ramius saw the ripple of pain tightening her face. “This one wriggles less.” West lifted an eyebrow and the flicker of satisfaction in his gaze fired through Ramius’ blood. “Is that what you like about her?” He laughed. “Chloe kicked, struggled, threatened me with language I never knew an elite from Earth would know…”

  Ramius let West ramble, fought to push his mind out of old memories…but the blade at Chance’s throat was the same one. Even down to the nick in the bone handle. Thoughts of the past crushed his chest, made breathing hard. He saw Chloe wrestling in West’s grip, the knife tip digging hard into her jaw. Blood ran, but that didn’t dim the fury in her blue eyes, nor the rage churning out from her mind—

  The imperative slammed into his skull. Fire flared under his skin, through his thoughts. Ishaan West was his. The man grinned at him, and Ramius centred his sights on that hated smile. The full power of the weapon in his hands would obliterate it, take out his face, his upper torso and—he blinked, his hands suddenly shaking—take Chance out too.

  “You can’t do it, can you?” West’s smug voice cut through his haze and brought his mind into the present. The outer governor still grinned at him, hadn’t moved. “It’s too similar to her death.”

  Ramius pushed back the need to obliterate West. He needed to focus. Chance wouldn’t die because he lost control. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Earth wouldn’t let me kill you. Now I get to use your…reputation…for myself.”

  Ramius edged closer, and West’s knuckles around his dagger, the blade cutting deeper. Chance stiffened, but stayed silent, still. Her dark eyes held him. Fear mixed with something else, a quiet, bitter defiance. All right, something else was going on. Two words stood out in her mind: Taunt him.

  “No. Keep back. I will end this. Kill her.”

  Ramius had to ignore the blood leaking down her throat, how the sight of it had his gut tight and the need to throttle the outer governor with his bare hands flexing his fingers. He’d trusted Chance before and she hadn’t failed him.

  “And then what will you have to bargain with?” A hard smile tugged at his mouth and he took another step forward. “You said it yourself. She isn’t Chloe.”

  West’s gaze flickered, and a stinging sensation ran along Ramius’ spine. His knees buckled and he thudded into the carpet. “Tiny implants grown into your nervous system.” West gave a soft laugh. “Did you think we tortured you just for the fun of it?”

  Fuck, his thighs had locked, he couldn’t twist or move his body. His arms dropped and stiffened at his sides. His weapon thudded onto the carpet. He refused to look at Chance. Whatever she had planned, his incapacity hadn’t changed it as the same sharp defiance ebbed from her. “What do you want? What the hell is this all about?”

  “Should have wired it into your mouth too,” the governor muttered. “I’ve consolidated my position with the Jovian colonies. Now it’s time to move on.”

  Parts clicked together in his head. Earth had demanded a trial, fought for him to be kept alive. Now he was in the governor’s residence and had just pointed a gun t
o his head. “I’m a spy. I’ve been sent to kill you and now you’re viewing it as a convenient act of aggression.” He paused and another piece fell into place. The shipyards’ insane activity… “You’ve constructed a fleet of dark energy ships for a pre-emptive strike.”

  “And you’ve just admitted what your role is in this conspiracy against my rule.” West grinned. “Thank you.”

  “So what now?” A short, hard laugh escaped him. “I’d shrug, but that’s not possible right now.”

  The governor tilted his head, and Ramius kept his face as immobile as the rest of his body. His grip on Chance had eased. Just a fraction, but the jagged blade now lay flat against her throat rather than cutting it. Ramius’ gut tightened. Her blood coated the metal, her skin, her shirt.

  “Now?”

  The governor yanked Chance off the couch, manhandling her until she stood upright before Ramius. She let him, not fighting his rough hand as it tugged and pulled her. Still, that dark determination flowed from her, strong and bitter on his tongue. Ramius couldn’t dig deeper into her thoughts, but something lurked in her gaze, and it had his spine tingling. Literally. He wriggled his toes.

  “I cut Lucky Chance’s throat, and we’ll share her blood.”

  Ramius had to buy time. “You really think you can take on Earth? The Terran fleet will obliterate your ships.” A wry smile twisted his mouth. “Then they’ll come after you for real. You think I can become a killer? Wait till a trained soldier gets his hands on you.”

  West snorted and he wagged the blade at Ramius. “If you think—”

  Chance rammed a fist into his balls. West cried out, his hold loosening, and she dropped to the floor. Ramius was already moving, surging to his feet. He grabbed at the man’s wrist, fingers biting into his tendons. His other hand squeezed his throat, choking him as Ramius barrelled him back. The knife fell away from his fingers, dropping to the deep carpet. Ramius pinned him to the wall, ignoring the wild scrabbles of West’s left hand.

  Ramius grinned, hard, satisfied. “Let me give you what I need.”

  “How…?”

  The single word choked out of his mouth before, with grim strength, Ramius crushed his larynx. West slid into unconsciousness, his body a dead weight. The searing image of the sun, stitched in silver and gold, cut across his thoughts in a brilliant flare. Trust West to grab at the supposed glory of his Sun King icon. Ramius took a tighter grip and yanked. Bones cracked. He let the body slump to the floor and purged West’s last thought.

  Ramius pushed out a slow breath and shut his eyes, willing the wild speed of his heart to slow. It was over, over…but his pulse spiked. “Chance?” He turned, scanning the empty room. Heat surged through his body, powering him forward. “Chance!”

  “Here.”

  Her voice was little more than a whisper and came from…behind one of the couches. Ramius found her, her knees tight to her chest, her blood-covered fingers digging into her neck. She looked pale and her eyes had dulled. Shit. She was losing a lot of blood. He knelt beside her and touched her cheek with trembling fingers. “Stay calm, all right?”

  She twitched a smile. Her gaze slid to her right, and Ramius followed. West’s slumped body crumpled against the heavy fabric of the wall. His head had fallen forward and he looked simply unconscious. “Is he dead?”

  “He’s dead. Trust me.” He climbed to his feet and scratching at his forehead, he strode to the food unit. “Healing packs,” he muttered, gripping the curved lip of the machine. It whirred softly. It was an executive unit and supplied all requests. Ramius couldn’t help it; he looked down at Ishaan West, the Sun King, and felt…nothing. No fury, no remorse. He was free.

  The pack slid out onto the lip and he grabbed it, striding back to Chance, all other thoughts forgotten. He tore open the outer packaging to reveal a sterile white pad. “This will bond the wound.” Chance twitched as he eased her fingers free of her neck. He didn’t wince at the run of jagged flesh, though the urge to kill West again did grip him for a long, hard second. He pressed the pad to her throat and information scrolled over the synthetic material. Ramius closed his eyes and let the relief wash through him. West hadn’t cut deep enough. Her stillness had saved her from serious injury. “Hold it there. It’ll cleanse and heal the wound.”

  “I know what a healing pack is.” Even with a voice weak and rising just above a whisper, her sarcasm shone through. She closed her eyes and her shoulders slumped.

  Panic made him grab at her shoulder. “Chance—”

  “I’m not dead.” She flexed her fingers against the healing pad. “We have to get out of here.” Chance flicked another glance to the dead governor as dull, rhythmic thumps filled the air. Pain tightened her face. “His implant dissolved and the network is going berserk. It sealed us in here. And troops are on their way.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Stay there.” Ramius straightened and disappeared into West’s office.

  “Didn’t plan on going anywhere.” Chance wanted to shut her implant to the riot streaming through her brain as it mixed with and heightened the screaming pain in her neck. Her fingers eased their tight grip on the pad, and she expelled a heavy breath. Who would’ve thought being slashed across the throat and neck would hurt quite so bloody much. “I’ll stay right here.”

  She closed her eyes and focused on the rush of information. The office had sealed itself, trapping them. Pushing at the constraints didn’t work and only made her head pound in time to the internal alarms. Chance eased back from the living stream, letting her thoughts disengage. The troops were already amassing and, once the order was given, they’d storm the governor’s office and slaughter them. They were so screwed. Ishaan West was dead and they wouldn’t be far behind him. Her “after” was looking decidedly short-lived.

  “I need you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Promises, promises.”

  His soft laughter warmed her and made breathing easier. “West had an external feed. I need you to jack it.”

  Chance opened her eyes to find Ramius staring down at her. She met his smile and willed her body to move…but he stopped her. He bent, his arms sliding under her knees and around her back. She wrapped her free arm around his neck, her fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder. His body heat warmed her, and she rested her forehead against his cheek. The familiar scent of his skin slid into her lungs, and she almost sighed. He still smelled…incredible. “I could’ve walked.”

  Ramius dropped an unexpected kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering for a long moment, and her heart squeezed. His breath brushed her skin. “Yes, you could. But you’re not.”

  His hands tightened their grip and he strode from the small room into the office. He’d yanked the tapestry free from the wall and revealed a panel that gleamed in the artificial light still shining in from the frames of the windows. A black shutter sealed them from Europa’s bleak landscape, yet more proof of their completely fucked status.

  Ramius kicked the heavy leather chair around and eased her into it. He glanced up at the solid clunk that vibrated through the thick carpet. The troops were breaking in. Shit.

  He held her gaze, calm, serious, and she grabbed at his composure, wanting it for herself. “Think you can activate that, Governor Chance?”

  “Funny,” she muttered. Another clunk, louder. Her stomach cramped. All right, she could work under pressure.

  She focused on the silver shimmer of the large rectangle, delving below the upper streams of information. Ramius was right. West had taken the panel out of the network. More than that. A slew of disbelieving curses escaped her. He had a direct tap into one of Earth’s outer beacons. “He’s connected to a beacon. How did you know about this?”

  “West wanted to attack Earth. He had to have intel to co-ordinate his attack.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “And I caught the image of the tapestry before his brain shut down.”

  A blaze of light shot over her implant, and she bit back a groan. It burned through her flesh
, searing needles into her brain. She grabbed at the arm of the chair and dug her nails into the soft, padded leather. Fuck, it hurt. “I’m holding it open. Say what you have to. Be quick.”

  “Chance…?”

  “Ramius.” She gritted her teeth, the faster vibrations of the invaders jolting the chair, her body. Chance pushed down her panic. It wasn’t just the door now. The vast shutter shook, clattering against the square window frames. She sucked in a breath. “Be quick. Because this hurts. A lot.”

  He winced. “All right.” He straightened his shoulders and his chin lifted. Chance focused on him, on his voice as it rose above the increasing noise. “Ramius, John, Security Consultant for the Sinope Base. Open a wire. Augment tag.” He closed his eyes and she felt something as light and soft as a breeze brush over her searing connection to the beacon. It cooled her, eased away some of the pain, and unexpectedly she let out a slow, relieved sigh.

  “What the hell is holding open this connection?”

  The male voice surged over her and ripped away all the soothing cool of Ramius’ thoughts. She groaned and her free hand rubbed at her scalp. It didn’t help. “I am.”

  Ramius frowned. “Chance—”

  “Ramius? What the hell? Our reports said you were executed yesterday for treason—”

  “Nairen. I haven’t got much time. Ishaan West is dead. His troops are about to storm his office and we have no out.”

  “We?” The panel flickered, but no image filled the shimmering screen. “It’s illegal for a Jovian colonist to—”

  “Fuck this,” Ramius muttered. “Cut the connection.”

  Chance yanked her thoughts free of the beacon, and the absence of pain was a brief moment of bliss. But the battering of the protective shields clenched a fist in her gut. They were so dead. She looked up at Ramius, her heart in her throat. So many things she wanted to tell him. Words burned on her tongue…but all that came out of her mouth was, “What now?”

  The door crashed to the floor and soldiers surged into the long office, weapons primed and aimed. More men broke through the shield, shattering the glass wall. Too many of them barked rapid orders, the voices ripping over her as senior officers tried, and failed, to secure her implant.