Skip Trace

by Jenn Burke

  “Don’t start playing with my head. You know I can’t keep up.”

  “Since when? You graduated from the same school as I did and placed second in your specialist training. You can think your way around ninety-five percent of the people in this galaxy, including me, Ryan and Zed, if you choose.” Her expression softened a little. “Of course, your solution is always going to require solder and spare parts, while mine will usually involve some sort of side bet and blackmail. Zed’s our charmer, but never to be underestimated. And Ryan is wired into HQ. Literally. But you...” The set of her features changed again, the irrepressible smile disappearing. When Marnie looked sad, she looked truly sad. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For not coming sooner.”

  “Because running my life for me is so much fun.”

  It was her turn to pause, ask, “What?”

  “You used me as a decoy, Marnie. You decided I couldn’t keep up and shuffled me to the side of my own crew.”

  “You weren’t even supposed to be on this mission!”

  Her mild anger poked holes in his ire. Deflating, Felix whispered, “I shouldn’t be here, should I?”

  “Oh, Flick.”

  He growled softly.

  “Fixer, then. Why will you accept a name you used aboard the McCandless, but not one from the Academy?”

  Rather than explain that “Flick” had traveled to the Academy with him, a childhood name he’d happily inhabited until the stin had stripped away the innocence he hadn’t been aware of, that he’d happily revisited until Zed had died before his eyes just a month before, Felix said, “You could just call me Felix.”

  “Do you truly feel I am no longer your friend?”

  I don’t want any friends.

  The uninhibited truth of the statement shocked him. The patent falseness of it smacked his cheeks a breath later.

  “I don’t want to talk anymore.” He turned back toward his quarters and pulled out his vial of pills. “Wake me when we get to wherever we’re going.”

  “Felix.”

  Felix glanced over his shoulder at a still sorrowful Marnie.

  “He’ll never be whole without you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Is that what this is all about? I fucked up Ryan’s secret mission to reunite me and Zed?”

  She sighed. “If only. Not that I wouldn’t throw away my career to see my two dearest friends happy and healthy.” She let that sink in for a beat before continuing. “You have to know that Zed being alive makes more than a few folks in the AEF uncomfortable, even without my intelligence.”

  Felix found a smirk for that.

  “Juston Dell isn’t the only one with questions.”

  “I’m not telling you what happened on Ashie Prime. Technically, you’re the enemy.”

  “Is that how you really see me?”

  I wouldn’t throw away my career...”Are you telling me you’ve left the AEF?”

  “I can no longer sit by and watch the service I love continue to cut puppet strings. Who’s next? Me? Ryan? The war is over, but our role in galactic peace is not. People matter. And one of my oldest, dearest friends is in danger. His death was way too convenient for the AEF. We need to figure out a way to ensure they leave Zed alone.”

  “We?”

  “Have you been listening to me at all?” Marnie reached out and tapped the side of his skull. Felix tried not to flinch as her fingers grazed his curls. “You’re the one who thinks sideways. You’re our puzzle guy. You always have been. We need to do this together. Not just for old times’ sake. Not just because we’re friends, or to save the man you love more than life.” Felix sucked in a breath. “Because this is what we signed up to do. To serve and protect. That includes our own.”

  Man, he wanted to say “fuck you,” but he couldn’t. The fact Marnie knew that burned. Another low growl tickled his throat. Felix had never considered himself a company man, but even now he recognized that that attitude had always been a front. He’d been proud to serve. Not just because the opportunity to do so pulled him out of the slums. But because he’d truly believed he had something to offer. Idealistic young fool that he’d been, he’d supposed he could make a difference. He’d wanted to serve and protect—his family, his comrades-in-arms. Humanity. And the man he loved more than life.

  Felix jerked his chin down in a short nod. “Fine. You’ve made your point. Will you go now?”

  “For a while. You need your beauty sleep, after all.” Her gaze darted sideways, letting him know she’d clocked the pills. “Sweet dreams, Fixer.”

  She’d called him that on purpose, hadn’t she?

  Chapter Twelve

  Zed tilted his head back, reveling in the feel of water rushing over his hair, neck and down his spine. He closed his eyes, and for an instant he was back aboard the Chaos, in the tiny communal shower stalls. In his imagination, Flick was standing in front of him, watching the water stream over his muscles, just about to touch—

  With a sigh, Zed opened his eyes. Popping a boner in the quasi-public space of the Anatolius gym showers would not be advised—not that his cock was all that interested in action. They both wanted Flick and fantasizing in the shower was a poor, pathetic substitute. He made quick work of washing his skin and hair, keeping his back to the stream of water. After waking up with piercings, he’d discovered that his abused nipples were not up to the caress of hot water. He’d almost yanked the little barbells out—but somehow, some way, Maddox had convinced him to leave them in at least until after Flick saw them.

  If he ever came back.

  Two days. Zed’s ripmails to Flick had gone unanswered. Elias and Ness had been in touch—though Ness was the only one Zed had spoken to. He wasn’t Elias’s biggest fan at the moment because even if Flick wanted to go along with the Chaos, it had been Elias’s call to take him. He figured they’d have words. Eventually. He’d just add them to the words he wanted to have with Flick.

  He knew Ness wasn’t wrong—Flick was fucked up. Hell, what ex-soldier wasn’t? Add in the stin and being a POW, then Zed’s death and the emotional fallout from that...really, it was amazing that Flick was functional at all. But that didn’t change the fact that instead of talking to Zed, instead of trying to deal with shit, Flick had run. Was it his fault for expecting too much? They’d never revisited their agreement to take their relationship one day at a time. Zed had just sort of assumed that since he no longer had a known expiration date facing him that they could—and would—roll into something more permanent.

  Had that been selfish? Fuck, it had. Maybe that was part of the reason Flick left. Maybe he didn’t want something more permanent and he just didn’t know how to say it. Maybe—

  Zed stabbed the shower’s holo interface and the water shut off. “Enough thinking,” he muttered, the words reverberating in the empty space. The students he’d taught had already come and gone, other duties calling them away from the gym. Zed had nothing else to occupy him—unless he wanted to go seek out Lise Bellerose. See if she had any work he could do. Or he could pay a visit to the Anatolius legal team, see if they’d come up with any new strategy to keep him out of the AEF’s brig. Just something to make the hours of the day go by fast enough that he stopped contemplating other ways to fill his time.

  Like...if getting a lower piercing would hurt less or more than his nipples did.

  Brennan burst through the change room door just as Zed pulled his underwear up over the curve of his ass. He almost growled at his brother, but the expression on Brennan’s face killed the sentiment. “What?”

  “Checked your messages?”

  “No, I had a class and I just got out of the shower.”

  Brennan nodded, the movement clipped. “I pushed up the meeting with the lawyers.”

  “What? Why?” />
  In answer, Brennan pulled out his wallet and tapped a button. The asshole reporter from the conference—Juston Dell—appeared, suspended in holographic form. The text “Secrets & Lies” splashed behind him in garishly colored letters. “The Allied Earth Forces was our savior, our life raft, during the long war with the stin. The AEF protected all of us, watching out for humanity and trying to keep our species safe. But how many lines did they cross while doing that?

  “To hear the AEF tell it, none.”

  The report switched to footage of an AEF press conference, where a high-ranking officer—Zed didn’t recognize him—spoke to the assembled group of reporters. “The AEF conducted no experiments on its soldiers and never will. Anything you might have heard was nothing more than conjecture based on old—and very bad—science-fiction holos.”

  Dell reappeared. “But was it? A source very close to this so-called fictional Project Dreamweaver supplied details on the horrific experimental training the AEF subjected select soldiers to—training that utilized stin venom.”

  “Oh, shit,” Zed breathed. He sat down on the bench, possibilities racing through his brain. A plan. He needed a plan.

  Brennan paused the holo. “I can show the AEF all the records we have to prove you never communicated with Dell, but that’s not going to do anything at this point. They’ve got a hole to plug and you’re the most visible potential leak.”

  “I’ll swear whatever I need to swear, sign whatever I need to sign to prove this wasn’t me.”

  Brennan scrubbed a hand over his face. “It won’t matter. We need a new strategy.”

  “Bren...” Zed stared at his brother. “Are you talking about running?”

  “If it keeps you out of the AEF’s hands, yes, damn it.” He blew out a harsh breath and his hand flopped back to his side. “We need to buy time and getting you out of sight is—”

  Boots clamored on the other side of the gym door. A lot of them. Zed shared a look with his brother, his lips curving up in something that felt too much like a grimace to be a smile. “Too late.”

  An AEF contingent shoved the doors open and flowed into the change room, grunts with guns fanning out to ensure Zed couldn’t run. Bradley stepped forward, his lips set into a hard line. His dark gaze skimmed over Brennan to settle on Zed.

  “You going to come quietly, Anatolius?”

  Brennan moved to stand between Bradley and Zed, his back ramrod straight. “This is private property, General. I demand you—”

  Bradley held up his wallet with a document holo already keyed up. “I have a warrant for Zander Anatolius’s arrest, signed by the Supreme Court of the Central Alliance of Planets and Stations. As of this moment, Mr. Anatolius, you are harboring a fugitive and if you continue to obstruct justice, I have no problems hauling you in too.”

  “My brother did not—”

  Zed stood, then froze as the guns in the room leveled on him in one smooth, unified motion. Slowly, he lifted his hands, his mind calculating how fast he’d have to move, how many times he’d have to phase-shift to get out of this. He could do it, he realized. It’d push his limits, but he could do it.

  Except not without killing some of these soldiers in the process. And endangering his brother, which was not an option.

  “Can I get dressed?”

  Bradley jerked his head and one of the soldiers darted forward to inspect the clothes hanging in his locker, then the boots. After a few seconds of pawing at them, the soldier nodded and proclaimed an all-clear.

  “Go ahead,” Bradley instructed.

  Brennan turned to watch as Zed jerked on his pants and SFT. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

  “What do you want me to do? Fight?” Zed sat down to pull on his footwear. “I’m not willing to hurt anyone who’s just doing their job.”

  “God, Zed—” Brennan’s breath quickened. “I’ll call the lawyers. We’ll straighten this out. We’ll—”

  “Breathe. They’re not going to hurt me.” He straightened and offered Brennan another small smile, trying to inject his voice and body language with confidence. Ease. Nothing to worry about here.

  Brennan stepped forward and cupped the side of Zed’s head with an uncallused palm. “They’d better not,” he growled in a low voice. “We just got you back.”

  “And I’ll be back again.” He wanted to add promise, but didn’t dare.

  He didn’t want to have to break it.

  * * *

  Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Felix swallowed the foul taste of his own breath. “Huh?”

  Nessa shoved a steaming mug of coffee under his nose. Automatically, Felix wrapped his hand around the stainless steel vessel, sighing as warmth tickled his palm and worked into stiff tendons and aching bones. He’d run out of painkillers, which might be a good thing. The cocktail of pain meds and sedatives left him with a wicked hangover. But the sedatives alone left him so sore, as if he’d lain still for twelve hours—which he had. As a result, he ached. And someone had replaced his brain with rice.

  “I asked if you’ve checked your messages.” Nessa folded her arms. “I’m guessing by the stupid look on your face that you haven’t. Have you used up all those sedatives yet?”

  “Nearly. Are you going to give me any more?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. But that’s the least of your concerns right now. Check your bracelet.”

  Fearing Nessa might whack his head if he didn’t comply, Felix tapped his bracelet. There were a stunning number of unopened messages. The top five were jazers from Brennan Anatolius. A horrible twitch caught the finger Felix poked at his display. Even with rice in his head, he could see the pattern. Zed had stopped sending ripmail ten hours ago, about when Brennan had started paying for tight-beam transmissions through j-space.

  Shit.

  “You know what’s in these messages, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  And she wasn’t going to tell him, because he deserved the shock of whatever waited behind that cold, bleak subject header: Urgent. Felix caressed the holographic pixels and the message opened. He could justify the cost of accessing a jazer with his guilt and probably have bucket loads left over. He read the first line and closed his eyes.

  Double shit.

  Anger sputtered and died in his gut. This wasn’t Marnie’s fault. She hadn’t promised Zed would be safe on Alpha, she’d only suggested he would be.

  Was it his fault? If he’d stayed, could he have protected Zed from the AEF?

  Thoughts clinging to phrases such as “I’d die trying,” Felix opened his eyes and scanned the rest of the message. The anger so recently set aside flared to life. Burned hotly until rage licked across his skin, making his limbs tremble. “Where did Dell get all these details?”

  “Maybe the bug?” Corners of her mouth turning down, Nessa nodded toward his display. “Brennan attached holos, if you’ve the stomach for them.”

  He hadn’t, but Felix would rather die (yep, again) than admit that to Ness. He chose a random attachment and watched the holo. Juston Dell flashed a smug smile at the camera as he introduced himself. Then he adopted a more serious expression as he launched into his breaking news: Project Dreamweaver was more than a rumor and Zander Anatolius was a former member.

  Felix paused the replay, unable to stomach any more. Then, amazingly, all that anger swirling through his veins evaporated. Just up and deserted him, leaving him feeling like a torn-up grease rag and just as useless. He fought the urge to tuck his head into his chest and cry. Instead, abandoning the mug of coffee, he pushed off the wall holding him up and turned toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” Nessa asked.

  To fling myself out of an airlock?

  Felix glanced over his shoulder at the doctor. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

>   Unfolding her arms, Nessa studied him with those not-so-compassionate doctor eyes. “A few hours isn’t going to make any difference, Fix. We need to skim some gas before we go anywhere outside of this system, anyway, and there’s nothing we can do right now other than follow the original plan.”

  “How can you be so calm?”

  Nessa flinched, his intended insult finding the target. “I’ve had a few hours to process the details,” she threw back. “To discuss a plan with the rest of the crew.”

  Ouch.

  “I’m here, Ness.”

  “You didn’t vote to be on this mission, though, did you?”

  “Damn it, you think I don’t care what happens to Zed? I...” God, he was so tired of hurting, of trying to make things better only to succeed in making things worse. Fighting with his crew wasn’t going to help him gain ground, or even traction. Swallowing, Felix waited for the ball of whatever to sink down his throat. He looked up from the grimy floor—had it been his turn to clean the mess?—and breathed out. “I’m trying, Ness. And you know I’d do anything for Zed. Anything. I thought...” He chewed on his lower lip. “I thought leaving for a while was the best thing. Really, I did. I’m not much fun right now.”

  “No kidding.”

  Felix sighed. “Are you going to tell me the plan? Or would you rather give me some more pills?”

  “Would you take them if I offered them?”

  He didn’t have to think about it, even though his skin itched and his fingers were locked against involuntary spasm. “No.” His hand shook as he reached for his coffee.

  Rationally, Felix understood he was not at fault. That he could not have stopped Juston Dell or the AEF. But love wasn’t rational. Hell, he knew that. Love couldn’t be fit into a reliable pattern. If he was a rational being, he would be screaming instead of trying not to spill his coffee. He would be wrestling control of the ship from Qek and turning back to Alpha, sniffing out the AEF vapor trail and following Zed. His heart.

  Or maybe that would be the irrational act.