Nexus: Ziva Payvan Book 2

by EJ Fisch

  He stared at the cracked screen a moment longer before looking up at Zinni, who sat across the table from him, deadpan. They’d spent the past hour or so sitting there in the spec ops employee canteen, each of them silent as they went about trying to distract themselves. This was the first time they’d even made eye contact – he’d found her there at the table and had sat down without a word. Even now, Zinni said nothing, and the dark makeup she wore didn’t quite conceal the redness around her eyes.

  Skeet wasn’t entirely sure what they were even doing there. He’d come in that morning almost by pure reflex, one more attempt at simply going through the motions and not thinking too hard about anything. The entire special operations division had been assigned to the manhunt, and now that Ziva was gone things had returned to business as usual. A team with only two members wouldn’t be given any new assignments – they would be disbanded entirely before long thanks to the Rule of Three – so in all reality they were wasting their time even being there. He was surprised Zinni had even shown up.

  “Attention!” someone called.

  Skeet looked up to see the director himself standing in the doorway of the lounge, scanning the room as if searching for someone. He and Zinni worked their way to their feet, as did everyone else, though Skeet found he was unable to straighten his sagging shoulders. Emeri approached when he caught sight of them, holding his hands toward the other agents as he passed.

  “As you were,” he said.

  It was rare to see the director outside of his office at all, let alone in a place like the canteen. Whatever was on his mind was important enough to bring him down from the high reaches of the special operations wing. Skeet and Zinni sat again and watched, still silent, as Emeri took a chair from a nearby table and pulled it up to theirs.

  “What the hell are you two doing here?” His voice lacked the gruff edge such a question might normally have warranted.

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Skeet replied.

  Emeri leaned forward and folded his hands on the surface of the table. “Look, I’m sorry it had to come to this. I know how close you both were to Lieutenant Payvan – it’s one of the reasons you functioned so well as a team.”

  Skeet was startled when Zinni spoke. “With all due respect, sir,” she said, “was there something specific you needed from us? Because if not, I think I’ll be on my way.”

  “As a matter of fact, I was just about to send you on your way,” Emeri said. “I’d like you two to take a few days off, at least until the dust settles. I also don’t need a couple of emotionally compromised agents taking up space in my building.”

  “We can do our jobs, director.” Skeet felt the rage returning and looked down at his data pad to remind himself that Emeri should not be the recipient of it.

  “I’d like you to take a break all the same.” Emeri’s turquoise eyes took on a cold gray tone as he drilled Skeet with them. “I know how it feels to lose a squad mate, and I can’t even imagine what it’s like under these circumstances.”

  His behavior seemed odd – the director had never been the chatty type, much less someone who would try to give any consolation to the friends of a dead criminal. Skeet couldn’t help but be suspicious; the time for trusting anyone had ended the moment Aroska had shot Ziva after claiming he was helping her. Zinni was still in denial, clinging to the hope that it had somehow been staged, but Skeet was convinced she was wasting her time.

  Emeri leaned forward a bit more, keeping his voice low. “To be honest, it’s not looking good for you two. I will try my hardest to postpone any decisions regarding either of you being reassigned. You’re two of my best people and I want to keep you in ops if at all possible.”

  Somehow it didn’t make Skeet feel any better, but he managed a respectful dip of his head. “Thank you, sir.”

  “For the record, I’m not thrilled with the approach Dasaro took on all of this, but what’s done is done.” Emeri stood and gestured for them to remain seated. “I know you probably feel as though you’ve been treated unfairly throughout these past few days. I felt like you at least deserved to hear from me in person.”

  He turned abruptly and left, walking with a familiar stiff gait that had always given Skeet the impression he hated talking to anyone. All eyes were on him until he reached the door, then all attention was shifted to Skeet and Zinni. Tired of the critical looks and false sympathy, Skeet stood up and began to walk away as well.

  “Where are you going?” Zinni called, the first time she’d addressed him all morning.

  “Where does it look like?” Skeet growled. “You heard him – I’m leaving.”

  He heard footsteps as she rushed to catch up and she suddenly appeared in front of him, cutting him off just before he reached the door. “Listen Skeet!” she hissed, eyes ablaze. “I know you’re pissed – so am I. But don’t be like this!”

  She took him by the arm and dragged him out of the canteen, stopping in a quiet area in the hallway outside. She shoved him against the wall and he let her, his willpower depleted. The director was right – they were both emotionally exhausted.

  “I don’t blame you for being angry, but it’s not going to bring her back.” Zinni maintained a firm grip on his jacket, ensuring she had his undivided attention. “The best thing we can do right now is stay focused and do whatever it takes to keep our jobs and stay alive. You can leave – go ahead – but not like this, understand? Not like this!”

  Skeet couldn’t recall her ever speaking to him in such a way, and it instantly made him regret his actions. He knew Ziva wouldn’t want them to give up, but he also knew that even if they were able to keep their positions in ops it wouldn’t be long before Dasaro concocted something that would get them kicked out for good. The captain’s issues had always been with Ziva, for whatever reason, but his aggression had often carried over to Skeet and Zinni as well. The way he’d treated them since the prison transport crash hadn’t come as any surprise.

  Sighing, he placed his arm around Zinni’s shoulder and together they walked – once more in silence – upstairs to the squad floor. The majority of the workstations were vacant, a strange sight after seeing everyone so hard at work during the hunt for Ziva. Those still at their desks didn’t so much as bat an eye as the two of them came through; it was a refreshing change from the numerous odd looks they’d been receiving as of late.

  Skeet didn’t keep many belongings there at work; the ones he did had all been confiscated out of his personal locker immediately following Ziva’s arrest. The only two that had been returned to him – his communicator and service sidearm – were in his desk drawer where he had left them the previous day before storming out of the building.

  The screen of the communicator was highlighted in red, indicating a missed transmission. Upon checking it, he found that it was in fact eighteen missed messages, all originating from the same comm code – Ziva’s home.

  “Have Marshay or Ryon contacted you?” Skeet turned to Zinni, bewildered, and held up the communicator.

  Zinni shook her head and pulled her own device out of her backpack. “I’ve had it turned off since last night.” She handed it to him, displaying her message logs. Seventeen missed transmissions, again from Ziva’s home code. All of them had been sent within the last three hours, as had his.

  Suddenly rather concerned, Skeet led her into a more secluded area and opened a reply transmission, holding the communicator where they could both hear it. The call took what seemed like an eternity to go through, and the eerie silence made him sweat. It was Ryon who finally answered.

  “Ryon, it’s Skeet. I just checked my comm and saw that someone over there tried to contact me so—”

  He got no further before the other man swore and hollered something in the background. Marshay could then be heard shouting in reply, and for a moment Skeet was afraid something was wrong. However, the relief and excitement were evident in Ryon’s voice when he spoke again.

  “You’re not going to belie
ve this!” he said, still on the verge of shouting. “You two need to get over here right now!”

  -59-

  Fringe Systems Transport Line

  Deep Space

  Their conversation ground to a halt when the serving bot appeared at the table, hovering there on a pair of repulsors while its glowing yellow photoreceptors studied them quizzically. “Can I get you folks something?” it asked in an overbearing feminine voice that gave Ziva the impression it had been in the serving business for a few too many years.

  “Govinolin for me,” Kade said.

  Aroska signaled for the bot’s attention. “Make that two.”

  Ziva wasn’t sure whether a couple of drinks would help or hinder their venture – the galaxy knew they could use a little rest and relaxation, but she didn’t feel at all comfortable with Aroska so much as glancing at an alcoholic beverage after the things she’d seen in his home.

  “Hold it,” she said. “He’ll have govino juice. So will I.”

  The bot acknowledged them with a squeaky tip of its rusty old head and went rushing back toward the kitchen. Ziva watched it go and took a moment to scan the little café for the umpteenth time. All the other tables were occupied, yet nobody seemed to be paying them any mind. Still, she felt far from safe.

  Her attention was drawn back to the table when she heard Aroska snort. “Really Ziva? Juice?”

  “No drinking on the job.” She knew good and well what he’d meant, but he also knew good and well what she meant.

  “Oh I get it. Afraid of impairing your judgment and not being able to react quickly enough when that bot comes back with a powerblade and tries to kill us, are you?”

  “You’re impossible,” Ziva muttered, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. “If you must know, govinolin is one of the only things that doesn’t make me sick. I could hardly breathe when I first walked into your place the other day.”

  Aroska scoffed again. “Interesting. Ziva Payvan can kill a man with her bare hands but she can’t hold her liquor.”

  She found it ironic that he should mention her abilities to kill, considering he was next on her list if he kept up his attitude. The three of them sat in silence until the bot returned, Ziva staring Aroska down, Aroska humbled under her gaze, and Kade not wishing to get caught in between. Their glasses were distributed efficiently with a metallic claw, showcasing the machine’s years of experience. Ziva lifted hers to her lips and took a gentle sip from it before lowering it back to the surface of the table and watching her two male companions take generous gulps from theirs. Mind wandering, she began to spin her glass in a slow circle, allowing her eyes to once again flit around the café.

  Her attention was drawn back to her hand and the orange liquid sloshing around in her cup when she sensed Aroska staring at it. She glanced up and, when she saw his brow wrinkled in a perplexed manner, she cleared her throat. “What?”

  “That’s what it was,” he murmured.

  “What?” she said again.

  “You seemed familiar the first time we met – not in the director’s office, but when I first saw you outside the elevator bank.”

  “You mean when you were ogling me like a half-starved guhr hound?”

  “Hey, I’m serious!” he retorted. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”

  “I’m surprised you recognized anything with your eyes glued to my ass.”

  Aroska’s eyes widened and his face turned bright red. He forced a nervous smile and glanced quickly from Kade back to Ziva. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

  Ziva tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. “So tell me where you think you saw me.”

  He recovered quickly and shrugged. “It was late last year. My team and I had just wrapped up an investigation in Mairo and we stopped for a drink at one of the spaceport bars when we got back. You were sitting at a table by yourself, spinning an empty glass around just like that. Tate and Jole headed home early, so I was just sitting there watching you and trying to decide whether or not to come introduce myself and give you my comm code. The next thing I knew, the place was crawling with security, and when I looked around again you were gone.”

  Ziva remembered the day he spoke of. She’d been there at the bar surveilling an informant, a man who was supposed to take part in a drop that would give her intel for her next hit. But the drop had never taken place; the person delivering the intel had been discovered by the would-be target, and she’d had to bug out before they found her informant and traced him to her. The fact that she’d unwittingly been under surveillance herself that day unnerved her.

  “I think that’s more than I needed to know,” she said.

  “You asked.” Aroska swallowed the rest of his juice and stared into the empty glass. “So, were you on a job? Somehow I can’t picture you hanging around in a bar by yourself just for the hell of it.”

  “That would be telling, wouldn’t it,” Ziva replied, taking another sip of her own drink.

  The serving bot returned and refilled their drinks and they all ordered something to eat. Ziva could feel her blood sugar dropping – she hadn’t eaten since making breakfast at Aroska’s house – but she was too worked up to be hungry. The quality of the transport’s food was questionable, especially compared to what she was used to, but her brain needed the energy and she reluctantly began to eat when their meal was delivered.

  Kade finished chewing a bite and cleared his throat. “Speaking of ‘telling,’ there’s something that’s been bothering me.”

  Ziva wasn’t the least bit comfortable with discussing anything there in a public place, but arguing in a public place was hardly an option either. “And what would that be?”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re only helping you based on your word and our own assumptions, right?”

  “Sounds about right.” Ziva wondered where he was going with this.

  “Statements say you didn’t arrive at the gala until after Tachi was killed. You told me you didn’t do it, and I’m inclined to believe you, but why can’t you tell anyone where you were that night?”

  Ziva paused and set her utensils down, feeling crushed under Kade and Aroska’s collective gaze. She had expected this question to come up eventually but had pushed it to the back of her mind during the past couple of days. For a moment, it seemed like the entire café had fallen silent. Both men waited expectantly for her to answer, so she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and cleared her throat.

  “I was late to that gala because I was back in Noro following up on a case,” she replied.

  “That doesn’t explain much,” Aroska said, raising his eyebrows.

  Kade leaned forward. “What kind of case?”

  “It’s not exactly a case, I guess,” Ziva replied, hesitant to elaborate further. “For a while now, I’ve suspected Dasaro of being up to something. I broke into his place to see if I could find anything to support that theory. I may have discovered something – a locked drawer and a hidden weapons cache – but I had to leave before I could look into it any further.”

  It was the first time Aroska had shown signs of skepticism about her story. “And this theory is based on…?”

  “Transmissions, unexplained funds, and a hunch…a hunch I’ve had for over three years now.”

  “You’re sure it’s not just something related to an op he’s been running?”

  Ziva didn’t like his tone. “I think I’d know about it if it was agency-related.”

  “Hey, just asking,” Kade said before Aroska had a chance to respond. “I don’t understand though – if you’ve had this hunch for so long, why not take it to the director?”

  “I didn’t want to until I had something more concrete. I didn’t want to risk tipping Dasaro off and losing my chance to find out if there was really anything going on. Once this whole mess with Tachi started, I was screwed. If I tried to come clean about what I knew, Dasaro could just deny everything, and everyone would just shrug it off as a last-ditch attempt at shifting
blame.”

  Ziva paused a moment, running her hands over her face before resting her elbows on the table. “Not to mention I have no alibi – the whole point was to be there at his loft without anyone knowing. I did everything in my power to stay out of sight, including avoiding traffic cams when I finally headed for Haphor. Looking back on it now, taking such extreme measures seems to have done more harm than good.”

  “Well, if you were convinced Dasaro was up to no good,” Kade said, “why not go with the flow and petition a sponsor to look into it while you spend a few days in prison? I’m sorry but the whole escaping-and-running thing doesn’t look very good if you’re innocent.”

  “You think I don’t know that, Shevin?” Ziva snapped. At the mention of the word “prison” the hairs on the back of her neck had stood on end and another image of herself chained up in the Cobian bunker had ripped through her mind.

  Both Kade and Aroska stared at her wide-eyed, startled by the harsh response. Again Ziva found herself regretting letting her emotions get the best of her – the past was the past, and she couldn’t afford to let it keep haunting her at such inopportune times.

  She drew a deep breath and slowly released it through her nose. “They were taking me to the Haphor Facility,” she said. “It’s not a matter of ‘spending a few days’ there – once you’re in, you’re probably not coming back out.” She suppressed a shiver and winced as another vision flashed through her memory. “I couldn’t go back there.”