Raven Pirate Assassin Spy

by Landra Graf

  What an asshole. “Looking for you!” Sorella shoved out of her chair, slapping her palms on the top of the desk. “I’ve spent the last two years of my life searching for you, trying to find The Cursed so I could avenge you, only to find out you had become what I hoped you hadn’t. And bounty hunters didn’t kill your special bounty…. I did.”

  “Figures.” Luther stood and pointed at Ian. “I’ve got no more use for you. Too damn soft, and this job is about to get tough. You’ll pay with your life.”

  She jumped in front of her lover, a gut reaction, screaming. “Stop! Please. Wait.”

  Gun fire sounded outside the cabin, bringing a halt to her outburst. She heard shots similar to those they had faced in Hamburg, but more of them.

  Both men looked at each other, and each ran to separate portholes in the office. Instead of peeking out at the attack, she evaluated their situation inside. They had a few weapons, but all electric. If the boarders outside had an EMP, there’d be no chance at escape.

  “Sister, why are there German soldiers storming my hideout?” Her brother’s question came right before the EMP blast hit and the coil guns on the desk sputtered, then went dead. Too late.

  Ian responded for her. “I have a feeling they somehow tracked us from Hamburg.”

  “You never thought to make sure no one was following you?”

  Gripping two of her balisongs, Sorella swung them open. “We weren’t followed in the traditional sense. My sensors never picked them up. If they tracked us, it’s something new.”

  A loud whirr sounded, and Luther yelled, “Get down!” just as the door blew apart.

  Ian dived on top of her, and they both hit the floor. Flying debris rained through the room. Then came a line of soldiers, rifles aimed. She heard the guns cock, and Ian pulled her to a standing position. Their arms went up, surrender preferable to death at the moment.

  She heard some Deutsch hollered out at the back of the line, but failed to make out the words clearly. The soldiers parted, letting someone important come to the forefront.

  He appeared all in black with silver buttons lining his jacket and silver trim around his cuffs and neck. “Where is Herr Luther?”

  “Here,” her brother called out behind her. He stood behind the desk, broken cigar hanging from his mouth. “What the hell do you want, and why did you fire on my ship?”

  “Ah, I sense hostility, though it’s no surprise that a revolutionary such as yourself would be upset at men like me for doing my government’s work. My name is Colonel Altenbach, and I’m here to place you and your associates under arrest.”

  Dread battled its way to the surface like a fish struggling against a river current, and Sorella fought to tamp it down. The Liberté was still out there, hopefully, but at this point, they had no back-up, no way to warn her crew that The Cursed ship was home to the enemy now.

  “Come quietly, and we’ll show leniency.”

  “What’s that?” Ian quirked a brow.

  The colonel smiled, a polite grin showing off a flawless set of teeth. “A quick death to you and all who oppose the kaiser.”

  “And if we aren’t quiet?” Ian piped up with this question, still holding onto Sorella’s arm.

  “Oh, I don’t expect you to be.” Altenbach stepped up to them, reaching for her headscarf and snatching it off her head. “Especially during questioning.”

  ***

  Ian paced, and Sorella sat. It’d been at least a couple of hours since the colonel and his men had thrown them into their brig. Electrified bars greeted them like lost friends. He had never expected to end up in a cage.

  Luther, the fearless leader, had been hauled away for the promised questioning, and Ian wondered if he’d give his sister up. That thought kept him moving and trying, in vain, to think constructively.

  Both of them had already combed the compartment, looking for glitches in the technology and ways to short out the electricity, but with no luck. Two guards had been posted outside the cell, but they’d been called away. Now they reappeared with Ian’s one-time friend nestled between them. Blood dripped from his chin, and one eye had already swollen shut.

  One guard tapped the bars with an electo wand. A warning. Ian stepped away from the cell door. They threw their captive in shortly after, and though Ian rushed to help, his captain held back.

  When the guards walked off again, Luther shoved him aside and pushed himself up to a standing position. “You were tracked.” He spit, and blood hit the floor.

  “What did they say?”

  “Oh, nothing except you led them right to us. My dear sister’s systems aren’t very accurate after all.”

  Sorella’s head came up, lips thinned.

  Her brother moved toward her, and Ian stepped in front of him.

  “Move out of my way,” he growled, pointing a finger at his sister. “You’re spying for them, aren’t you? They recruited you to get me. That’s why you’re not married.”

  Ian couldn’t let her be degraded that way, so he responded, “No, she’s been searching for you. Of all the lame-brained ideas —”

  “Notice how she doesn’t deny it.”

  He looked over at his lover, and she stared back at them, emotionless as ever and unassailable. Maybe her brother was right, and her acting skills rivaled all others. Suckered in by a woman again, but yet he’d taken her. She had submitted her virginity to him, rendering her impure in the eyes of the president’s son.

  “Maybe she’s not speaking up because there’s no sense arguing with someone who already thinks you’re guilty?” He shoved Luther, pushing him half way back across the tiny space. “If she’s a spy, why’d they leave her in here? She’d be in debrief already.”

  “You don’t know how they work. I’ve seen it firsthand. Bastards sink their claws in so deep you’d never realize someone you love is corrupted to their cause until the very last minute.” The words were filled with anguish. No doubt some of his mistrust came from Eva’s actions.

  “Or maybe your own woman betrayed you?”

  Luther’s head rose. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Eva’s the one who told us where you were. She also said that she wouldn’t wait forever and we had to leave her behind. She could’ve cracked.”

  “Crooning whore!” A meaty fist slammed into the bars, the smell of singed flesh spreading through the air afterward. “I’ll deal with her later. Now we have to get out of here.”

  “I have a plan.”

  Ian startled at the sound of Sorella’s voice and the touch of her hand to his shoulder.

  Her brother snorted. “Really?”

  “It’s time I turned myself in.”

  “Wächter!” Guard. A young man, all upper shoulders and chest, marched up to their cell followed by a second guard.

  It was Ian’s turn to grab Sorella, though his fingers were no real deterrent. If they wanted to get out of here, someone needed to be on the outside of the cage.

  Sorella shrugged his hand way. “Ich möchte den Altenbach sprechen.” I want to talk to Altenbach.

  Another tap on the bars, another warning. She wouldn’t try anything yet. The second soldier opened the cell door, and she stepped out. She glanced back into the cell one last time, meeting Ian’s forlorn gaze. He was wondering, no doubt, where her loyalties lay. He’d find out soon enough if things went accordingly.

  As they marched her to their superior, she counted stairs, soldiers, and guns, tucking each piece of information into her trained mind to hone a strategy. Unfortunately, to make things work she had to be taken all the way to the colonel, a better way to get a good read on all the potential pitfalls of attempting an escape. Maybe she could even convince the colonel to let them go.

  The soldier prodding her along stopped in front of an office on the main deck. Then he motioned to another guard, who approached slowly, a pair of metal cuffs in hand.

  “Give me your hands, spinon.” Spy.


  So they thought she worked for someone besides herself. How much fun would this be? She thrust both hands forward and relaxed as the ratchet clicked shut around each wrist. Obviously, they believed she was dangerous enough to warrant cuffs before meeting with their superior. She followed them through the door, taking note that the guard with the keys was to her left. Once inside, she was pushed into a plush black leather chair with silver studs lining its edges.

  “Guten Tag, Fraulein Corvino.” Altenbach leaned back in his chair, setting aside the documents he was looking over. Without his hat, the man’s age was more evident. His blond hair was whitening at his temples in sharp contrast to a deep, red scar running along his hair line. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  “You have?”

  “Ja. You want to trade yourself for your brother and partner, correct?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m here to discuss the terms of your surrender.”

  He laughed then, a big, bawdy, throw-back-your-head laugh that echoed along the walls. “You’re confident. I’ll give you that, Fraulein. But what you see before you,” he spread his arms wide, “is Tesla’s latest accomplishment. Steel reinforced with rubber trim. EMP is no longer a problem with a ship such as this. So any type of attack you have planned won’t work. You’re better off surrendering your ship to us.”

  His monologue told her a lot of things, but more than anything, it gave her time to work loose the weapon she wore on her finger, a Bastille toy, containing the perfect amount of acid for the handcuffs. No doubt Ian would berate her later for using it here where she’d be in danger instead of at the cell door, but he was forgetting rule number one—know thy enemy.

  Altenbach was too confident; too sure he’d won. His arrogance would ensure his downfall. A letter opener sat out on the desk, its metal blade glinting in the afternoon sunshine coming through a porthole. It dared her to use it—nay, it demanded she use it on her friendly colonel. He stood, turning his back to her, and clasped his hands behind him. What a fool. “Well, will you turn over your ship and return to serve the kaiser? I know your mother and father are anxious for word of your safe return, now that we’ve found you.”

  The top of the ring came off with ease, and she balanced it, slowly pouring the acid onto one cuff, and tilting to get it to move toward the lock. The chemical reaction immediate, bubbles rose from the surface. To cover the noise, she piped up, “You’ve heard from them then? My parents? They aren’t angry?”

  “How could they be angry? They were worried, worried you’d been killed by agents of our enemies. They are overjoyed, and already your mother has reached out to the president to inform him that his son’s bride is almost done with her religious sabbatical.”

  She freed one hand and debated freeing the other. No time. Instead she rose from the chair and grabbed the letter opener. “That’s good news. I was afraid of being deposed.”

  The next seconds were critical, but she moved, light as a feather, past the desk and slipped behind the colonel. Securing his hands with one of hers, she brought the sharp metal edge of the letter opener to his throat. “I won’t be going back.”

  “Don’t do—” His words were cut off, replaced with a gurgle as she slit the soft flesh, and blood poured out. He fell to the floor with a thump, and she backed away, taking up a position behind the door.

  A few deep breaths and she was ready. The risks were great, and twenty men stood between her and the brig. Twenty bodies she’d have on her conscience until she recalled Ian’s words, his reminder that she could accomplish all her goals without taking life. Who knew if these men had families that they were simply trying to feed by joining up in the kaiser’s cause? To judge them by association…. She shook her head and cleared out the doubt, replacing it with resolve.

  No matter what happened, she’d make it to her brother and Ian. She’d save them—without killing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gunfire sounded then shouts and yells. Ian stood and listened. Luther had taken up Sorella’s spot, cursing quietly about not trusting women or family ever again.

  “Be quiet,” he hissed, trying to make out who the Germans were fighting. Possibly more of The Cursed mercenaries. Who knew? Regardless, the noises were getting closer; someone was coming for them.

  When the brig door burst open, two guards fell backward, collapsing on the floor, expressions dazed. Then both guards let out moans of pain as Sorella stepped forward on top of them, pushing her boots into their abdomens with each step. The metal tips were still adhered, so no doubt those were biting into flesh through their uniforms.

  “Are you both ready to get the hell out of here?”

  He grinned. “Took you long enough.”

  “Says the man who’s taking it easy while I disarm twenty men.” She stepped up to the cell door and shoved a rubber key into the lock. “Once you’re out, head to the top deck. Bastille and Roscoe are en route with the Liberté.”

  Luther grabbed Ian, shoving him out of the way, and stepping out of the cell first. “I’m not going anywhere. This ship has technology that would be useful. My men and I will commandeer it.”

  “For the mastermind of mercenaries, you’re certainly not smart.”

  Brother and sister squared off, toe-to-toe.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You have no idea if your men are dead or alive. We also don’t know if more ships are on their way, and based on the conversation I just had with the colonel, these ships can’t be tracked. Not in any way we know.”

  The mercenary laughed. “I’ll be the judge of that. Get out of my way.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Ian could let this play out, but instead he grabbed the electo wand from a fallen guard and moved into position. Dialing it took a bit longer than he had planned, and he was surprised at his captain’s newfound patience. She’d never take the time to debate in the past, and he almost chuckled, thinking how he was acting more like her than she was.

  Her brother nudged her aside with his arm, and that proved the perfect moment to strike. Stepping up, Ian touched the tip of the wand to his friend’s back for five seconds. The look on the man’s face was at first murderous then his features slumped. He crumpled in a heap on the floor.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Sorella marveled.

  “What?” Ian leaned down to check Luther’s pulse just to be on the safe side.

  “You knocked him unconscious and spared me having to hurt him.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll have to help me drag him up to the next deck.”

  She helped him tug, pull, and manhandle her brother’s body partially up the stairs. Luckily, Bastille popped up right as Sorella prepared to abandon the effort. The first mate helped Ian haul the big man up the half-flight of stairs. Getting him over to their ship proved a little more difficult, but after some creative thinking on Ian’s part, they dropped him over the edge with the Liberté positioned right underneath.

  “Where to next, my captain?” he asked as she finally came on board.

  Between all available crew members, at least ten German soldiers were captured and shoved into the brig, the untrackable airship still tethered to The Cursed vessel.

  “For now, we head to the mainland and stay on the lookout for more enemy vessels. I have no clue if they called for backup.” Her braids hung loose, and she gathered each strand, entwining them at the back of her head. “And I’m not leaving until my asshole sibling promises not to harm you.”

  Funny, he’d expected her to be more worried about flesh and blood, the future of her crew, and the million other things they needed to concern themselves with, not his life. “We can worry about that later.”

  “No time like the present.” Determination etched on her face, she pressed her lips together and marched off down the ship’s hallway to do battle…for him.

  She slammed open her cabin door. “Wake up, brother dear.”

>   Luther was propped in a chair across from her desk, his hands and feet bound with thick rope. She circled him, and he sat up, scowling. “You’d better have a damn good reason for tying me up.”

  “We tied you up because you weren’t showing any.”

  “Who knocked me out?”

  The question came as Ian slid into the room, shutting the door behind him. He kept near the exit though, watching them both.

  “Never mind. Just untie me.”

  “I can’t do that until you agree to cancel Ian’s debt.”

  Luther laughed. “I’m afraid that’s non-negotiable. You’re a captain, and you know how it is. If they sense weakness, then you have to squash it like invading spiders. To let him go means I’m all right with people not delivering on their promises, not sticking to their word.”

  She knew, damn it. Her own words to Ian were similar. Success came with a price, and that meant empathy and compassion were traded away for a warm bed and food in the belly. She’d still had to fight for her life even after she’d escaped the ones attempting to control it.

  Yet there were other options. Once thing she’d learned as a captain was to never give up. “How about a trade then?”

  “You’ve got nothing.”

  “Not true.” She pulled out one of her knives and stepped in front of him. “I’ve got your life in my hands, and if you’d don’t give me Ian’s life in exchange for yours, I’ll show you exactly how I killed our German colonel.”

  “You’ve been arguing for him since the moment I said I planned to extinguish him. Why would you want him alive?”