Enemy Overnight

by Robin L. Rotham

  * * * * *

  Shauss crept deeper into the mine shaft, being more careful the darker it became.

  A whisper of energy current made him reach for his weapon, but he found himself unable to move. Neural restraints? How in Peserin’s hell had they gotten his cerecom signature?

  “Empran, emergency flareout!” he ordered.

  No response.

  He fought the restraints until sweat broke out on his brow but his muscles simply wouldn’t respond. Fear blossomed in his gut.

  “It’s no use trying to contact your vessel, Lieutenant.”

  Flare lanterns on the wall hummed to life and a slender man walked into his line of vision. His heavily lined face was creased into a pained smile as he relieved Shauss of his pulsor and dagger.

  Shauss’ heartbeat thundered in his ears. “Ragan King, I presume?”

  The man nodded. “None other. I presumed I’d catch a Garathani in my little neural trap,” he said as he circled Shauss, “but I hardly dared hope it would be you. Strip him and put him on the table.”

  The chilled air hummed and two more males and a female appeared in the room. One of the men looked somewhat familiar, but the other two Shauss had never seen.

  King handed the weapons to the female.

  Keep him talking. Buy some time.

  Although the cold fear in his belly was bleeding up into his throat, he licked his lips, and asked, “Why did you destroy all those military bases? You killed millions of innocent people.”

  “Oh, Famen did that,” King said with a coy smile. “I just built the bombs.”

  “I suppose you killed him like you did Pret?” As if there were any doubt. Pret’s page was a dead man as soon as his face hit the Terran media.

  “Naturally. He’d served his purpose, and after I sent out the video of him planting the devices, he would have been much too recognizable to have around.”

  Even as the rational part of Shauss said Just as well, panic washed over him. He was a dead man—just like Famen. What would they do to him? How could he stand it?

  Terrified by his own terror, Shauss grappled for control. Surely someone would come for him. If Empran couldn’t communicate with him, a search party would be dispatched…

  Unless Empran had been compromised. What if the Narthani had taken control of the ship and jettisoned the crew? What if they were all dead?

  The rigid restraints converted to full neural restraints and he collapsed onto the floor. He shuddered when King and the other males pulled off all his clothing.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled. “Stop! Leave me alone!”

  They dragged him across the floor. It took considerable effort, but they finally managed to hoist him up onto an icy-cold stainless steel table. Shauss’ stomach contracted in horror when he saw the troughs running down both sides—it was an autopsy table.

  “No! No! Don’t put me there! I don’t want that!”

  Chills racked him. Though he tried to fight the panic as he glanced wildly around at the rough-hewn stone of the mine wall, his pulse raced dangerously and his panting grew harsh. He began to whimper with every breath. Was no one coming for him? Had they all forsaken him, as his father had—left him here to suffer and die alone in the enemy’s frigid lair?

  Shauss closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, reaching for sanity. Mother of Peserin, what was wrong with him? Was this any way to face death?

  Focus, damn it! Act like the warrior you are!

  Clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering, he said, “Your daughter is about to be executed.”

  King stepped in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, brow drawn. “Is she, now?”

  “He speaks the truth, Ragan,” one of the males said. “She was found guilty of high treason this morning for sabotaging the ship. The reason why they’re down here is because the pad infection has spread out of control and the other atmospheric generators have finally failed. They’re looking for an evacuation site, and they deceived her into revealing the location of this place. She is unaware of her death sentence as yet.”

  The traitor was revealed—only Gillim had been fed that particular story. Damn the inflexible old bastard!

  King continued to frown, and when his shoulders began to shake, Shauss thought he was going to burst into tears. The rumble of laughter that escaped him instead froze the marrow in Shauss’s bones.

  “Oh, how delicious!” King grinned as the others joined in the merriment. “They’re going to execute her.”

  Shauss stared at him. How could he have spent so many years with a female as lovely as Jasmine and be this coldhearted toward her? The man was a monster.

  “Narthani pig!” he spat, trying to maintain the deception and glean more information. “She’s your own child!”

  King sobered instantly, narrowing his eyes. “She’s no child of mine, Lieutenant, and I’ll thank you to remember it. She’s nothing more than a pawn in our little game.”

  “What do you mean, she’s no child of yours? Whose child is she?”

  “She’s the daughter of a very noble Garathani land owner.”

  “So how did you end up with her?”

  “Oh, I think that’s a story best saved for when she gets here.”

  “She’s not coming here.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” King chided. Sliding a hand under Shauss’ cheek, he pushed his head over until he faced the other direction. “See? Here she is. Mardo found her trying to follow you into the mine.”

  Shauss saw Jasmine’s slender body slung over the shoulder of a burly male and broke. His beautiful mate was dead. They’d killed her and now he would spend the rest of his life being tortured with cold and pain and loneliness. No one else had ever loved him and now no one ever would.

  “Noooooooooo!”

  The tormented howl yanked Jasmine out of her oxygen-deprived daze. Everything spun as her captor set her on her feet and she swayed, sucking in a painful breath.

  The sight that met her eyes sent shock waves down her spine. Shauss! He lay unmoving on a stainless steel table, tears running from his closed eyes as his keening echoed through the mine shaft. What in God’s name had they done to him?

  “How nice of you to join us, Daughter,” Ragan said in an expansive tone.

  Jasmine swayed again. What was she supposed to do? There were at least four of them, and the woman appeared to be armed with Shauss’ weapon. God only knew what the others were armed with.

  She decided to roll with it. “Dad! Thank goodness you found me! I was so worried I was going to be stuck with them forever.”

  “Well, we couldn’t have that, could we?” he asked, strolling over and placing an arm around her waist.

  It was all she could do to stifle her shudder of disgust. Shauss continued to moan and babble, and her heart squeezed.

  “What did you do to him?” she asked as coolly as she could.

  “Oh, I just played on his fears a little,” he replied with a smile. “My neural trap does more than restrain its subjects. It also suppresses reason and magnifies emotions exponentially. Right now he has all the analytical capacity of a two-year-old.”

  Crap! There went any chance of Shauss recovering enough to lend a hand. What the hell was she going to do?

  “Oh well, that’s…” She swallowed her outrage. “Different.”

  “I’ve found it to be quite a time-saving interrogation tool.”

  Unable to answer that civilly, she just pasted on a vapid smile, and he continued. “Of course I couldn’t have used it on the lieutenant if Mark hadn’t accessed the ship’s cerecom system and sent me the master capture code. He’s been a huge help, hasn’t he, Siri?”

  “He certainly has,” the woman replied proudly.

  “And you always thought he was such a headache as a child,” he mocked, looking at Jasmine with steel in his eyes.

  “Mark? You mean Shelley’s husband?” she asked blankly.

  “Didn’t you recognize him?”

>   “Well, I thought he looked familiar.” She shook her head. “He’s little Mark?”

  “Indeed he is. The dear boy sent me news of all your trials. I’m sorry you were left in the care of the enemy for so long, Daughter,” he said. “I tried to get to you after that brute first attacked you, but I had my hands full.”

  He clucked in mock concern. “And you were forced to undergo your transition, I see. It’s unfortunate, but you seem to have weathered it well enough.”

  “I’m okay.” Okay enough to kick your ass up between your ears, you sick bastard.

  “You’re more than okay,” Ragan insisted. “You’re a vision. I had no idea you would turn out so lovely.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Gritting her teeth, she leaned down and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yes.” She nodded eagerly. “You were always so disappointed in me, and it hurt me badly. I really wanted to please you.”

  “Oh my dear. I had no idea.” He patted her back. “And there I left you on that ship to deal with those dreadful men all alone.”

  “It was awful,” she shuddered.

  “Did they rape you?”

  She gave him a shamed look and didn’t answer.

  “Don’t worry, child—I can see the answer in your face. But I have something for you to do that will make you feel much better. I’m going to let you exact your revenge for the way the Garathani have treated you.”

  She smiled uncertainly at him, mentally preparing herself to jump on any opportunity he gave her. “What do you mean?”

  He took her hand and drew her toward the table. Turning Shauss’ head, he slapped him on the face to get his attention. Shauss quieted, staring as he watched Ragan King with blank eyes.

  Her “father” reached onto the counter and lifted a green towel to reveal an array of gleaming surgical utensils.

  “What—what are you going to do with those?” she asked.

  “I’m not going to do anything,” he said holding up a scalpel. Then he pressed it into her icy-cold palm. “You’re going to castrate him, just like his mother did his father.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Shauss hasn’t reported in and Empran is unable to detect him.”

  Tiber stared at the commander, feeling real fear for the first time in almost twelve years. “Was there any indication of trauma prior to the loss of his signature?”

  “None, and he’s alive until I have proof to the contrary,” Kellen said grimly. “Jasmine’s biomet is transmitting so we have their coordinates, but we’re unable to breach the flare deflector guarding the mine’s entrance. The probe we led with slid several hundred meters. We’ll have to land another expedition at the field’s perimeter. This field isn’t as large, but the terrain isn’t easy to cross.”

  “Commander,” Holligan interrupted from the security console. “Verr just found Ensign Beral dead outside command escape pod four.”

  “Peserin’s hell, I knew it. Gillim was the only one told of an impending evacuation.” Kellen strode to the weapons safe. “Empran, seal the command escape pods until we get there.”

  “Command escape pods sealed.”

  He pressed his palm to the reader, ordering, “Holligan, dispatch a security detail to Councilor Gillim’s quarters and confine him until further notice.”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  When the weapons safe opened, Kellen removed three pulsars. “Minimal pulse,” he said as he handed one to Tiber and the other to Cecine. “We want his accomplice alive if possible.”

  They headed down the corridor toward the council chambers. The pods were between the command core and council chambers and served to evacuate all of the on-duty command personnel.

  When they reached bay four, Ensign Verr was crouching over the fallen guard. Tiber examined him quickly but was unable to determine the cause of death. After he’d flared the victim to the infirmary, he joined the others, taking a defensive position on his knee beside the hatch. His heart raced as he raised his weapon—he’d never been forced to use one against a live opponent.

  Cecine passed his palm over the reader and the hatch opened. One by one, they ducked inside the bay, sliding along the bulkhead with their weapons raised. When Kellen dropped to his knee and fired under one of the pods, Tiber instinctively rolled to the floor and aimed in the same direction.

  “Empran, confine Mark Bonham!” Kellen ordered, popping right back up and bracing his back against the pod. Tiber remained on his belly, watching a pair of black shoes hover on the other side of the pod.

  “Unable to comply.”

  Kellen raised his brows. “Excuse me? Empran, why are you unable to confine Mark Bonham?”

  “Because I am unable to detect Mark Bonham.”

  “He’s right on the other side of escape pod four,” Tiber sent. “How can you not detect him?”

  “My sensors detect only you, Minister Cecine, Commander Kellen and Ensign Verr in this bay.”

  “Well that’s a new twist. We’re going to have to apprehend him the old-fashioned way.” Kellen waved his weapon.

  Tiber rose and circled the pod in the opposite direction. When he risked a glance around the pod’s nose, he saw only Kellen.

  A pulsor fired again and a shout drew them toward the external hatch. When they rounded pod three, they found Mark Bonham clutching a box in his arms.

  “Stop!” he gasped. “Or we’ll all die together.”

  “Your mission is over, Bonham,” Kellen said, keeping his weapon leveled on the injured man. “There’s not going to be any evacuation. We circulated that rumor to draw you out, and it worked.”

  “No!” Bonham shouted. “The pad is infected and the atmospheric generators are corroded! I did it myself.”

  “But we found the key to the virus,” Cecine said, also holding his weapon on the man. “Both Ketrok and the pad have healed, and only two of the generators were destroyed.”

  “No!” he screamed. “Not yet! You’re supposed to die. This ship is supposed to be ours! We deserve this ship after you destroyed all of ours!”

  “You’re Narthani?” Tiber asked, surprised. He seemed too young.

  “My mother is,” he said, wiping sweat from his eyes. When Kellen ventured closer, he yelled, “Stop or I’ll set this off!”

  “Why would you risk the safety of your mate and unborn children?”

  He hesitated, and then said, “There are things greater than the needs of my family, like the needs of our entire race.”

  “Your race!” Cecine thundered. “Your race is prospering with our help.”

  “You lie! First you tell us that you destroyed our homeworld, and then you claim you did not! Pret explained how you ruined Narthan for generations to come with our wealth and your weapons.”

  “Pret deceived you for his own gain. Do you not see that? Pret and Gillim were against our mating with Terrans from the beginning. They used you to sabotage this mission.”

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “I’ll let you speak to Lord Sals himself.”

  “I do not know of this Lord Sals,” Bonham said defiantly. “And it’s too late. If what you say is true, I have nothing to lose.”

  He hit the activator on the box before anyone could fire. They all hit the deck, but the blast containment system confined the explosion to a blinding bubble of light.

  “Holligan, is Gillim in custody?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “Has Lieutenant Shauss reported in?”

  “No, Commander.”

  He looked at Tiber. “Let’s go get him.”

  * * * * *

  Ragan King’s hand slid down her forearm in a gesture so blatantly sexual, it made her want to vomit.

  “Go ahead, my dear,” he urged. “Slice off that offensive organ he used to torture you. He can’t move, but he will feel every bit of pain you can inflict.”

  She swallowed bile. Sh
auss’ genitals were shriveled with the cold and his eyes were wild as he looked up at her. Surely he knew she wouldn’t do this.

  His sudden scream said otherwise. “No!” he sobbed. “Please don’t cut it off! Please!”

  “What’s the matter, Daughter? Don’t you want your revenge?” He grasped her hand. “Here, let me help you get started.”

  He slowly exerted downward pressure and she resisted. God, she hated him. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I said, no.” Pivoting, Jasmine shouted her kiai as she slammed her other hand down on his forearm, knocking the scalpel away.

  King stumbled backward and then steadied himself. “Is that any way to treat your father?”

  “You’re not my father!” she shouted.

  “Oh good, I’m glad we’ve got that out of the way,” he said, crouching as he sidled around the table. “I’ve got plans for you that aren’t very fatherly.”

  Jasmine followed him, unsure of what she was going to do but determined to keep herself between Shauss and that disgusting creep.

  “You’re sick,” she spat.

  “No, I’m just very sexually frustrated,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Terran women don’t react well to spurs these days, so I haven’t had sex since Dayree died. Since her death is your fault, you can damn well take care of that problem for me.”

  “My fault?” she demanded.

  “Yes, your fault. If she hadn’t become so bloody attached to you, I wouldn’t have had to kill her.”

  “What?” Jasmine froze.

  “She was on her way to tell you about your heritage, to encourage you to join the Garathani and find happiness.” He spat the word like a curse. “That was all she ever thought about once she had you in her arms. Her stupid brother was hired to kill you both, but instead he thought, why let an infant go to waste when his sister had always longed for one? The fool gave you to Dayree as a happy little bon voyage gift for our mission, and she took you, of course, promising it was only to keep you alive.”

  Skirting along the wall, King never took his eyes off her. “She swore she’d give you up to a Terran family when we got here, but by that time she’d grown attached to you and I couldn’t break her heart by taking you away.” He gave her a dark look. “That was the biggest mistake of my life. I should have slit your little throat right then—she would have gotten over you and we would have continued with our lives as planned.”