Nexus: Ziva Payvan Book 2

by EJ Fisch

  Zinni’s hot gaze shifted to Dasaro, who had spent the duration of the broadcast standing with crossed arms directly in front of the viewscreen. Everyone else now had eyes on him as well, waiting expectantly for some form of verdict that would somehow make the situation more final than it already was. Zinni’s heart was racing – something didn’t feel right about the events she had just witnessed. Either Aroska had played her and Skeet to a beat and had just killed Ziva per Dasaro’s orders, or the whole thing had merely been staged. She wanted desperately to believe the latter but had no idea how it could be possible.

  “Dispose of the body, Lieutenant,” Dasaro replied. “She will meet the same end as she would have after a week in the Haphor prison. No need for any formalities at this point.”

  Zinni fumed. If there was some way she could get to Haphor in the next five minutes…. After everything Ziva had done for these people, they were ready to just throw her away like a piece of trash. There had to be someone who would side with her and Skeet, but as she stopped and looked at the agents standing in stunned silence around her, all her hopes were dashed.

  Skeet brushed by her as he stormed away, his face contorted with more anger than she had seen in a long time. She decided to let him seethe for a while, afraid any attempts to calm him at this point would only tear apart their partnership, the last thing holding them together. Besides, she figured he deserved a chance to vent after being forced to maintain composure over the past few days – she only hoped he wouldn’t hurt himself or anyone else.

  Zinni stood there a while longer, eyes still glued to the screen and the image of her commanding officer lying there on the rocks. She hoped the shots had been fatal, sparing Ziva the pain of falling down the bank. The bot suddenly turned, catching sight of Aroska as he scrambled back up to the surface before it went offline. As the feed stopped and the lights came back on, the agents around Zinni began going back to their business, leaving her standing there in stunned silence. For the first time since Ziva’s arrest, she thought only of herself. And she was afraid.

  -47-

  Reilly Household

  Argall, Haphez

  Mag Reilly had not slept a wink since encountering the mercenaries at the memorial grounds the previous evening. As tired as he was, his racing mind prevented his eyes from closing. At the moment he was lying flat on his back on his mother’s living room floor, staring at the patterns in the ceiling and trying to think of anything other than niobi crystals.

  He was at a total loss. He’d just finished moving everything out of his parents’ house – or, more accurately, everything that remained after the looters had come through. During their mad quest for power, Loric and his gang had managed to turn the citizens of Argall against each other, destroying the sense of community the town had always possessed. Now it was every man for himself, and in recent days it seemed that the mercenaries’ lack of any moral standards was beginning to rub off on those they were oppressing.

  The house was empty now except for a collection of items by the front door that Mag had set aside for himself. Many things had been moved three years earlier after his father had been killed. He had kept an eye out for the data pad with the cave maps back then as well as since his mother’s death, but since the night before he’d searched for it like a madman. It was his hope that the looters hadn’t gotten to it first, though if they had it would get Loric off his back. No, now there he was looking out only for himself and becoming one of the very people he hated. Even hate was such a strong word – he liked to think there was still hope for the city and that he could eventually help build it back up, but at the moment he couldn’t help but be pessimistic.

  If the data pad wasn’t on the property, he had no idea where else to look. If the data pad was on the property, he had no idea where else to look. He wasn’t even sure what to do with it if he found it. Conducting a treasure hunt would be nearly impossible to do in secret, and even if he managed to find the crystals he didn’t know what he would do with them. He knew the basics about harvesting but he was no farmer, not to mention there was no way he could care for that many crystals on his own. And with all the corruption around him, he wasn’t about to share his knowledge with anyone else.

  Feeling useless, Mag sat up and closed his eyes until his head quit spinning. The thought crossed his mind that he had a whole week to find the map, and then he kicked himself for even thinking in such terms. There was no way he would surrender it to Loric, though he didn’t know what to do with it himself. And so continued the endless cycle of thoughts as he desperately tried to decide what to do.

  He hauled himself to his feet and took a moment to gaze at the empty floor around him. He’d grown up in this house, been born in it for that matter. The current predicament broke his heart, though the thought that currently dominated his mind was that he should be familiar with any of his father’s hiding places after living there for so long. He’d checked his parents’ strongbox, their bank account, even the secret compartment behind the lavatory mirror, all to no avail. Even if the data pad was still intact, there was a good chance at least some of its data had been corrupted after sitting idle for three years.

  Mag hated to acknowledge the fact that Loric was right. People were going to die whether he found the map or not. It all just felt like a whirlwind of a dream, something out of one of the adventure stories he’d read as a young man. In those tales the heroes always managed to make the right decision or find a back door, but now that the story had come to life he felt like anything but a hero. No, Mag Reilly of Argall had the great misfortune of being responsible for the death of an entire culture, all because he was related to someone who had once tried to do the right thing. Experiencing the outcome of that firsthand made him feel motivated to do anything but the right thing anymore.

  With a sigh, Mag went to his little pile and gathered up the items to take to his car. Regardless of what he decided to do with it, he was going to find that data pad if it killed him.

  -48-

  City Center

  Haphor, Haphez

  Kade knew something wasn’t right the instant he rounded the corner. He paused for a moment mid-stride, studying the scene before him with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Half a city block had been cordoned off by HSP, with his destination in the midst of the madness. Due to the numerous police vehicles and the mob of people congregated outside the barricade, he was unable to tell what all the commotion was about. The fact that it was all happening in front of the place he was going unnerved him.

  His attempt to reach Eason Fromm the night before had been unsuccessful, but the good doctor had kindly returned his call early that morning and had offered to meet him at a place of his choosing. The idea of speaking with Fromm over the comm made Kade nervous – after everything that had already happened, it would be far too easy for someone to intercept the transmission, resulting in him being either fired or killed depending on who it was. He hadn’t taken the time to share his suspicions with Fromm in great detail, but he had emphasized the need for some measure of secrecy, and the coroner had agreed. They were scheduled to meet at lunch hour at the small café where Kade had spent the previous afternoon killing time before heading home for the day. Toting his portable computer and all the information he had on Spence’s death, he’d been walking with a spring in his step on his way to the meeting. Now he was frozen stiff, unable to help but fear that his plans had been foiled.

  As he stood there observing what he could, Kade felt the familiar surge of adrenaline rushing into his veins, the same rush he had experienced on the bridge at Tachi’s palace and in the med center as he’d pursued Spence’s murderers. He was beginning to recognize a pattern; if the other occasions had been prompted by unfortunate events, this one probably wasn’t any different. He dreaded to think of what else could possibly go wrong. The fact that anything else could go wrong was inconceivable.

  Kade began to venture forward step by step, straining to see anything he could
while remaining as subtle as possible. He could make out the flashing lights of a medical transport over the heads of the crowd, telling him that someone had either been killed or seriously injured. Judging by the amount of time it seemed the emergency personnel had been at the scene, the former was more likely.

  A middle-aged man in an HSP street patrol uniform emerged from behind the barricade and began directing people back onto the walkway. He looked exhausted, as did every other agent Kade had seen in the past few days. “I’m going to need everyone to step back,” he said, waving his hands. “Thank you folks, just keep moving.”

  The majority of the crowd began to reluctantly comply, but when Kade didn’t move, the officer veered toward him. Standing there in street clothes with his satchel over his shoulder, he looked and felt like any other curious onlooker.

  “That goes for you too, kid,” the Blue called, grabbing his attention. “We need everyone to move out of this area.”

  Snapping out of the mild daze he’d been in, Kade drew out his HSP credentials and offered them to the man. “I’m RG,” he said. “What happened here?”

  Unless it was his imagination, the older officer actually looked relieved. Without bothering to study the badge, he nodded and shook Kade’s hand. “Head-on collision between two groundcars,” he replied. “I don’t know what the hell happened.”

  “Initial premise?”

  The man shrugged and looked back toward the crash site, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “As near as I can tell, one of the cars crossed into the oncoming lane, traveling well above the speed limit. The pilot was an old bot – thing must have been malfunctioning. We’ve got techs working on what’s left of it and we’ll try to locate its owner or programmer. The pilot of the other vehicle was DOA. He was actually employed by HSP, a medical examiner named Eason Fromm.”

  Kade wasn’t sure whether he should break down in tears or laugh at this almost comical string of bad luck. No, now with the death of Fromm, he was convinced that this went far beyond bad luck. He was being targeted, being toyed with. He was on the trail of someone somewhere and that person was doing everything in their power to throw him off. Maybe it was Payvan, or maybe she really was innocent and it was the people who had set her up. Whoever it was, Kade saw that the further he dug, the more trouble he was getting himself into.

  He tried to swallow as he stared ahead at the scene, unable to formulate any words other than “thank you.” The officer watched him quizzically for several seconds before turning his attention back to the loitering bystanders. With trembling fingers, Kade adjusted the strap on his satchel and turned back the way he had come.

  -49-

  Abandoned Relay Station

  Outskirts of Haphor, Haphez

  The first thing she was aware of was the hard surface pressing against her head, and then came the throbbing pain. The only sounds she could hear were a muffled crackling and her own pulse, but as she gained consciousness she realized she was, in fact, listening to running water. One side of her face and the entire front of her body were wet – maybe there was a connection.

  Ziva’s heavy eyelids wouldn’t budge from their closed positions, but she was content to leave them be. She smelled blood somewhere nearby, but whether it was hers or someone else’s, she wasn’t sure. She was alive, that much was clear. Whether she would stay that way in the next few minutes remained in question.

  As she grew more and more cognizant, she became aware of a new pain: a dull pang in her chest that came and went with her heartbeat. From what she could tell, it was some sort of internal bruising, and she lay there for several more moments to give her brain a chance to catch up.

  Her right eye was the first to open, the lid lifting itself involuntarily while she was still focused on her chest pain. The image was blurry and her eye began to sting immediately, and she realized it was partially submerged in water. Startled, she raised her head and closed the eye again, wincing against the fire that shot through her neck and down her spine. She realized she was lying flat on her stomach; the ground felt like it was tilting beneath her as her mind attempted to re-orient itself and take in the rush of new information her senses were suddenly picking up. Little by little, the events of the previous hours crept back into her memory, and she recalled being shot by Aroska before falling over the edge of the riverbank.

  She was in Haphor, at the relay station outside of Haphor to be exact. The water in which she was lying was the little river she had scoped out as a potential escape route, and in the end it had served that exact purpose – just not quite in the way she had imagined. The pain she felt was from the impact of the two plasma shots which, to Aroska’s credit, had been flawlessly placed. She wondered for the first time where he was, what had become of the other agents, and whether it was safe for her to get up.

  Ziva realized she was shivering, having spent the galaxy knew how long lying in the cool water, but she did her best to remain still and listen. Other than the trickling water, some forest birds, and distant traffic, there wasn’t a sound to be heard in the immediate vicinity. Groaning, she managed to roll onto her side and stretch out her arm, which had cramped up from being pinned under her body. The place where she’d been lying was slick with mud and she had a thin layer of the stuff plastered over her face. Heaving herself as best she could into a sitting position, she scraped away some of the muck, and when she withdrew her hand, she found it coated in tacky, half-dried blood. She scrubbed it away with a handful of water and found its source to be a gash just below her hairline, also the epicenter of the pain that continued to stab through her head.

  Not wishing to remain cold and wet any longer, Ziva drew her legs in and rose stiffly to her feet, teetering there for a moment as her surroundings spun in a slow circle. The bank where she had fallen was steep and void of any solid handholds, so she craned her sore neck and looked up and down the riverbed in search of an alternate means of climbing out. The solution was found in the form of a tree growing sideways out of the bank several meters downstream.

  Head still spinning, she struggled for balance as she made her way over the rocks. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so disoriented, other than when she’d been drugged by the Cobian pirates. At least that time it hadn’t felt like someone was bashing a hammer repeatedly against her skull. With a little caura treatment and some pain killers she would be feeling better soon enough, though she imagined she would be sore for the next couple of days.

  She found the little tree to be wobbly but firmly grounded in the side of the bank. Establishing a solid grip on its narrow trunk, Ziva began to walk up the steep incline, reaching for protruding tree roots as she went. As she neared the top, a new scent reached her nostrils: wood smoke. Taking hold of one last root, she lifted her head above the edge of the bank and took a cautious look around. She saw no signs of life, but the remains of what appeared to be a funeral pyre were smoldering in the clearing below the relay station. For a moment, Ziva wondered if she was really awake or if it was all a dream. Nothing made any sense at all, but then again nothing that had happened in the past four days had made much sense either.

  Her whole body complaining, Ziva scrambled up over the edge and rolled, hesitating for a moment before standing up. Everything remained still so she began to cautiously approach the shack, stopping every few meters to listen further. She used the trees for cover until she reached the clearing, where she then darted out and ducked behind the remnants of the pyre. It was a curious thing – she could see the embers and smell the accelerant, but there was no sign of a body or anything else that had been burned. Judging by what was left of the pyre though, she guessed she had been unconscious for at least a couple of hours. If all had gone according to plan, she was now free to seek passage to Chaiavis.

  All the cars were gone and there was no sign of her stolen bike. Satisfied there was no one around and hoping the infrared probes had dispersed by now, Ziva stood up and began taking small strides toward the littl
e building, eyes focused on the door and ears devoted to the sounds around her. Her boots were wet and sloshed as she walked, but other than the soft squishing she was barely able to hear her own footsteps. If anyone was watching from inside the shack, the stealthy approach was worthless, but she imagined if anyone was around they would have been hovering around the bank or trying to pull her out.

  As she came within a few meters of the structure, Ziva watched her own shadow rise up against the front door. She stopped upon reaching it and placed her ear to it, still unable to hear any sounds coming from within. Taking one last look at the scene behind her, she hit the door controls and ducked inside.

  She paused and blinked several times in an attempt to adjust to the shadows then turned toward the cabinet where her things were stashed. The sight of Aroska sitting there on the floor startled her out of her skin. “Sheyss, Tarbic,” she muttered, relieved that it was him and not one of the other agents.

  He had one knee up and was leaning up against the wall, looking quite relaxed. He even raised his head as if he’d been napping. “Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” he said with a lazy smile as he got to his feet. “After a fall like that, I’m surprised you can even walk.”

  Ziva scraped a handful of mud from her shoulder and flung it to the floor. “No kidding,” she muttered. “I appreciate you coming back to see if I was okay.”

  Aroska raised his hands in defense. “Hey, I checked every so often, and you should be grateful that I moved your head so you wouldn’t drown.”

  “Fine, I’m grateful,” Ziva said. “Can we assume they bought it?”

  “Oh, they bought it. I think Dasaro was too caught up in himself to bother looking too closely, but it was convincing nonetheless. I tracked you down, shot you, then I burned your body out there on that pyre.”