Nexus: Ziva Payvan Book 2

by EJ Fisch

  Skeet and Zona were on their feet in seconds, pistols drawn and trained on the newcomers. Zinni rose as well; a quick study of the group revealed eleven men and four women, fifteen people total. They didn’t appear to be in any form of uniform, but they all carried identical rifles bearing the same insignia. They were clearly organized on some level, but they certainly weren’t HSP.

  “Sergeant Duvo, Officer Vax, HSP spec ops, and Special Agent Zona, Royal Guard,” Skeet shouted. “Lower your weapons immediately!”

  “Do as he says!” the leader of the group ordered, dropping his rifle and lifting his hands. “My name is Remis. We’re part of Tekele Private Security, based out of Seran. Are you the recon team responding to the SOS?”

  Zinni and Skeet glanced at one another before shaking their heads. “This is a recon mission,” Zinni replied, “but we don’t know anything about an SOS.”

  They cautiously lowered their pistols as Remis approached, his hands held out in plain sight. “We intercepted it during the wee hours this morning,” he explained. “It appeared to have originated from the main comm grid in Argall, but our reply transmission yielded no response and we lost the signal not long after that. We forwarded it to HSP, and your director said he’d make sure you received it. He told us we might find you up here.”

  “We must have left headquarters right around the time you found it,” Skeet said. “And we haven’t received any messages – our communications are down. We don’t know when exactly we lost them.”

  Remis almost looked relieved. “Then we’re not the only ones. We lost contact with the other half of our team about two hours ago, about the time we moved further down into the valley. They’re somewhere on the other side.” He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and gazed out across the basin. “The interference is identical to what we saw after we tried to respond to the SOS signal.”

  “You think there’s something jamming communications in the area?” Skeet asked.

  “It’s possible. Trust me; I would have called my sniper off if possible. I’m terribly sorry about that – he must have thought you were with the mercenaries.”

  “Mercenaries?” Zona repeated.

  “Part of the SOS message mentioned that Argall had been overrun by mercs. We don’t know details, but it’s got to be a pretty sizable bunch in order to subdue the whole town. There aren’t too many organized groups with those kinds of numbers around here, not since Solaris disbanded, so that narrows down the list.”

  That made sense. A large gang would be easy for Dasaro to control, most likely by bribing them with money. He’d be able to interact directly with their leader, minimizing the effort needed on his part and enabling him to conduct all this business with relative secrecy. “Do you have any idea who we’re dealing with?” Zinni asked.

  “If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say we’re looking at a division of the Red Ring,” Remis replied. “They’re run by a man named Loric – used to be a sergeant in the 305th platoon before being dishonorably discharged. He…used to be a friend.”

  Zinni followed suit when Skeet and Zona finally holstered their weapons. “What makes you think it’s him?”

  “For starters, he’ll do anything for money,” Remis scoffed. “But he’s also been off the radar for the past couple of years, making me wonder what he’s been up to. He’s got the manpower to handle something like this. I don’t want to start jumping to conclusions though. Regardless of who’s running this circus, there are obviously people down there who are in trouble.”

  “He’s right,” Zona said. “We should continue on.”

  Skeet nodded toward Remis. “Sounds like you guys know more than we do about the situation. Mind if we join you?”

  “We’d welcome it,” the man replied, stepping forward to shake Skeet’s hand. “According to your director, your team has some background information that could benefit us as well.”

  A sudden explosion rocked the ground, echoing off the surrounding hills and sending loose rocks tumbling down the incline. The entire group turned as a unit and watched as a fiery cloud rose up from the edge of the compact little city. Even at this distance, the screams could be heard. Zinni scrambled to recover the spotting scope from where she’d dropped it and peered down at the scene below. The people were hardly more than bipedal shapes, but it was clear that they were running and the heat signatures from plasma weapons were unmistakable.

  “The debrief will have to wait,” she said, already on her way down the hill. “We need to get down there!”

  -91-

  Chaiavian Freighter Steel Hand

  Haphezian Airspace

  When Ziva walked back into the cockpit and found Kat with her face pressed against the front viewport, she couldn’t help but smirk. The world of Haphez loomed ahead, a brown and green orb suspended against the black backdrop of space. It was a sight for sore eyes, despite the fact that they’d only been gone for a few days. She couldn’t imagine what this moment might be like for Kat, especially in light of the things the girl had shared with her in confidence.

  “I’ve only ever seen pictures,” the young woman murmured, shifting her gaze to where the halo of light from the sun reflected off the waters of Haphez’s single sea.

  “Welcome home, Kat,” Aroska said, grinning. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  As they descended into the atmosphere, Ziva couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about their return. There was no telling what exactly the director – or the rest of the population, for that matter – knew in terms of the truth. For all she knew, there was still an execution order out on her, Aroska was wanted for aiding and abetting a fugitive, and Kade because he was a person of interest in the investigation. On top of all that, they were bringing a Defective with them. As comforting as it was to be home, she felt far from welcome.

  They entered the airspace above downtown Noro and swooped into place amid the mid-afternoon traffic. They reached her house in a matter of minutes and set the ship down in the small landing bay where the Intrepid usually docked. Her little vessel had no doubt been impounded following her arrest, and Ziva wondered briefly what it would take to get it back. She dreaded to think of what else HSP had taken – chances were they wouldn’t have many supplies to choose from.

  “I want to make this fast,” she said as the four of them descended the boarding ramp. “We don’t have time to stay and chat. Grab what you need and we’ll go.”

  They found the basement door to be locked, and after a bit of consideration, Ziva wasn’t surprised. If Veya Shevin had done as she was told and had come here, Marshay and Ryon would have turned this place into a fortress. Feeling like a stranger in her own home, Ziva led the group around to the front door and knocked.

  They were greeted momentarily by Marshay, or more accurately, the barrel of a shotgun with Marshay behind it. The woman’s jaw fell slack as she locked eyes with Ziva, and she immediately lowered the weapon.

  “May we come in?” Ziva asked. She had no doubt it was a shock to see her there, maybe even to see her alive, but there was work to be done and not a lot of time to do it. Too impatient to be polite, she pushed her way inside with the others hot on her heels.

  A shriek sounded from across the room the moment they cleared the doorway. The owner of that shrill voice was nothing but a blur as she streaked across the floor and latched onto Kade with a claw-like grip. It was all Shevin could do to catch Veya before she sent him staggering backwards into the wall, holding her just as tightly as she held him. Kat and Aroska moved aside to give them some space and watched, amused, as the young couple laughed through their tears. “I’m sorry,” Kade kept repeating. “I’m sorry I left you.”

  Not feeling overly sentimental, Ziva crossed to the hall closet and opened the hidden compartment inside, cursing when she found the weapon locker unlocked and empty, just as she’d feared. She turned and began to rush toward the guest room, narrowly avoiding a collision with Ryon as he emerged from his room. He looked perpl
exed when he noticed the new arrivals, but recovered more quickly than Marshay had.

  “Hello to you too,” he said. Ziva had to give him credit for being so patient. It seemed that nothing she did surprised him anymore, not even showing up unexpected after being charged with murder, evading the authorities, and staging her own death. He could take one look at a situation and be ready to go with the flow, just as he was doing now upon recognizing the urgency in the air. He gestured toward the open closet. “HSP took everything.”

  Ziva slid her hands down to rest on her hips, taking this immediate misfortune as a sign that she should at least slow down and take a deep breath. She watched as Veya and Kade lifted their baby daughter from her carrier and showered her with kisses. She looked to Kat, who had somehow managed to maintain a spark in her eyes despite knowing this was a one-way trip. Aroska waited, weary but ready, and nodded her way when she looked to him. Since Veya was there, Marshay and Ryon had to have known she was alive, but they still regarded her as though they’d never expected to see her again. Even so, they were ready to offer their support.

  “Not everything,” she finally said. “They haven’t taken our will to fight.”

  With any luck, HSP hadn’t discovered the Loft, a hidden space within the ceiling of her bedroom. She entered and, relieved to find everything still intact, retrieved a medium-sized storage container. It didn’t hold much – mostly ammunition and a couple of small pistols – but with some determination, a little bit could go a long way. And there was no shortage of determination around here.

  A thought crossed her mind as she walked back through her demolished room. She still carried the syringe and data pad Kat had given her, so she took a moment to place them in the strongbox behind the hidden panel she’d told Aroska about. Now that someone knew about its location, she would have to find a new hiding place, but these items would be safe for now.

  She returned to the kitchen and placed the box on the counter. “Take what you can use,” she instructed. Kat and Aroska began to cautiously paw through the collection.

  Ziva sighed and turned to face Marshay and Ryon once again. It was clear that they were trying hard to stay collected, but they were still having a hard time not staring. “Where are Skeet and Zinni?” she asked, trying to divert some of the attention away from herself.

  It was Marshay who mustered up a response first. “They left in the middle of the night with Zona – wouldn’t say where they were headed. They’ve been working themselves into the ground since they realized you were still alive.”

  So they had caught on to that little detail. Ziva silently thanked Veya for instilling some hope in her friends. She turned to the young couple and found that Kade had taken a sudden interest in the conversation.

  “Wait, Zona?” he repeated.

  Marshay nodded. “He’s been here with them for the past couple of days, going over a copy of some files he said you stole.”

  A tingle shot down Ziva’s spine. So Skeet and Zinni had seen Zona’s files. Did that mean they knew about Argall and the truth behind her imprisonment on Cobi? Had they presented their findings to the director, thus proving Dasaro’s involvement in the matter? Had they managed to find Tachi’s killer? There were still too many questions that remained unanswered.

  She turned and picked through the weapon box as well, selecting a projectile pistol, some spare ammo, and an old thermal grenade she’d picked up on a mission close to four years earlier. “Sorry to cut this visit short,” she said, though in reality she was eager to get moving again, “but we may not be in the clear just yet and we’ve still got a lot to do.”

  While Marshay and Ryon nodded in understanding, Veya looked devastated. “You mean this isn’t over?” she whimpered.

  “Far from it,” Kat said, sounding almost defensive as she fidgeted and glanced toward the door. “There’s a lot more going on than a simple frame-up. People are dying!”

  “Please, Kat!” Ziva said, halting the conversation before it could escalate. She hated to say the words because she doubted she could keep such a promise, but they slipped out anyway: “I swear we’ll get there in time. Get your stuff and take it to the ship.”

  Kat and Aroska took up the items they’d selected, leaving the depleted box on the counter. The two of them made their way back out the door, leaving Ziva under the scrutiny of those who remained inside. Kade swallowed and squirmed, grasping his wife’s hand. She’d had every intention of having him come along and see this mission through – they needed all the help they could get, after all. But in the split second she stood there studying him, she saw how tired he was, how afraid he was. He wasn’t afraid for himself though; he was afraid for his family. He was afraid because there was someone there waiting for him to come home every day. Ziva thought back to her conversation with Aroska on the balcony. She thought of Marshay and Ryon and how they loved her like a daughter but still understood what she had to do. They didn’t like it, but they were aware of the way she and her team had to live in order to do their jobs. Not so with Veya. Kade had proven to be a good agent, but he was by no means spec ops. He wasn’t cut out for this.

  “Shevin,” she said, making him jump. He gripped Veya’s hand tighter, no doubt expecting the worst.

  “Stay here and protect your family. Better yet, go to HSP where you’ll be safe. They’re probably going to take you into custody, but tell them I sent you and they’ll listen to you in a heartbeat. Go to the director and tell him everything you know – every single detail. Ryon will make sure you get there safely.”

  “Got it,” Kade said, releasing the breath he’d been holding. Then his face turned solemn. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

  It was an impossible question to answer with any shred of honesty. Ziva turned the thermal grenade over in her hand and nodded. “We’ll be back.”

  -92-

  Abandoned House

  Argall, Haphez

  Mag ducked away from the window just as a hail of plasma fire pelted the front of the building. He gripped his own pistol with white knuckles and checked the plasma cell for the umpteenth time, wondering how many more shots he could get off before the gun became useless. One thing was for sure – it wouldn’t be enough.

  He caught his breath and risked a look out the window. It didn’t appear that the mercenary who had fired knew he was there – he’d been aiming for the two men who now lay dead in the street. Surprisingly, they were the first people Mag had actually seen die all morning. He was sure there’d been more elsewhere in the city, but many had been spared the initial bloodbath thanks to the early warning message he’d sent out upon leaving the police station.

  It hadn’t taken the mercenaries long to realize communications were functional again. Loric had reset the jamming signal and the SOS had been disabled an hour or so before dawn. Escaping the police station undetected had taken a bit of doing, shortening the window of time for successful communication, but it had been adequate enough for Mag to send out transmissions to the few people in the city he still trusted, who in turn had forwarded the warning to others. By the time comms were disabled again, a good portion of the town knew about Loric’s plan to shut everything down. All weapons had been confiscated upon the mercs’ initial arrival so very few people had any means of defending themselves, but knowing was at least half the battle.

  Mag slid back down to the floor and leaned against the wall, taking a moment to look around at the people he’d taken under his wing as he’d moved through the city. There were the two young men, apparently twin brothers, who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old. Their eyes were wide and their faces stained with the soft gray dust that was so prevalent in the mines. Then there was the woman with the two small children, and the old man who was armed with a rifle he’d pried from the cold fingers of a dead mercenary. His haircut and the battle scars on his face told Mag he knew how to use it. He’d seen all of them around the town before, but he realized now that he didn’t know any of their names. He�
�d spent so much time obsessing over the fact that everyone else had changed, not even bothering to think about the way he’d distanced himself from them. Worse yet, they all seemed to know who he was – he was practically the mascot of the mercs’ occupation, after all. They sat there watching him, looking to him for leadership, and he had no idea what to do.

  “It’s going to be okay,” was the only thing he could think of to say, though in reality he didn’t know if it would be.

  He wasn’t sure if accessing the comm grid had helped or made things worse. Obviously it was a good thing if the SOS had reached someone willing to respond, but it had also alerted Loric and his men to the fact that he knew about their plan. Granted, there was no way for them to know it had been him specifically, but that knowledge had still altered their plan of attack, in the most literal sense of the phrase. Nothing was planned, nothing was organized. The streets of Argall had been transformed into a chaotic warzone, and while the mercenaries’ numbers were spread thin, there was still no way for the citizens to successfully fight back. They needed more firepower.

  The door of the building burst open while Mag was still lost in thought. By the time he recovered enough to raise his pistol, it had been wrestled from him by powerful hands. Startled and at a loss, he resorted to raising his arms over his head and cowering in the corner.

  “Nobody move!” shouted a well-muscled man with wild orange hair, the apparent leader of the group who had entered.

  “Let’s see some hands!” cried a small woman who had come in behind him. Mag looked up to find her pointing his own pistol at him.

  The rest of his little entourage did as they were told and the old man grudgingly relinquished his rifle. Several more armed men crowded into the room, sealing the door behind them and successfully shutting out the noise and gunfire from outside. Mag studied the group past his quivering hands. The power and speed with which they moved told him they were professionals, but the realization that they weren’t part of the mercenary gang hit him when the big orange-haired man spoke again.