by Jayne Castle
“Got the message, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter 37
She opened her eyes to the familiar green-quartz glow of the catacombs. The arched ceiling overhead was inscribed with the graceful symbols and designs that the Aliens had used to decorate many of their structures. The experts had made little headway in deciphering the strange writing. Some had concluded that the inscriptions were merely decorative, not a written language.
Instinctively she closed her right hand into a small fist, feeling for her amber ring. The first thing she noticed was that her hands were bound in front of her.
The second thing she discovered was that her ring was gone. If they had taken it, they had stripped her of all her amber. Rafe would never find her. Even if he got the message she had tried to leave with her lipstick, which was not very likely, he would have no way of tracking her now. She was on her own.
Tentatively, she tried to raise her talent. There was nothing at first. She tried harder and thought that maybe—just maybe—she heard a little Alien music shiver in the atmosphere. But the quartz harmonies locked in the walls were very faint.
“Sorry about the drug,” Bob said. “I didn’t have much choice. You’re a strong talent. I was pretty sure we couldn’t get you out of that wedding party unless we put you under all the way.”
She realized that she was lying on the floor. The quartz was not cold—it was never cold down in the tunnels—but it was hard. She sat up cautiously, curling her legs mermaid style. The skirts of her purple and pink bridesmaid dress foamed around her.
Absently, she noticed that both of her shoes were missing. Just like Amberella after the ball, she thought. But her prince didn’t need a shoe to find her; he needed a signal from her tuned amber. Her amber was gone.
All she could do now was try to buy time and hope that her talent awakened before Bob gave her another dose of the drug.
He lounged on a stool near the vaulted doorway, a flamer resting on his thigh. He was not the only one guarding her. The waiter who had given her the drugged champagne stood at the entrance of the chamber, watching the hallway outside.
Ella fixed her attention on Bob. He was clearly the most dangerous of the two men.
“Did you bring any doughnuts?” she asked. “I could really use a doughnut about now.”
Bob whistled, amused. “You’re one tough lady, aren’t you? But, then, I figured that out right away after you solved the dino problem in Wonderland and then took down that monster inside the Preserve. You’re not just a standard-issue music talent, are you? Figure you for a genuine Siren. Scary.”
“You’re Vortex, aren’t you?” Ella asked. “Also scary.”
“I’m Vortex and so is my associate, Hodson, here.”
Hodson did not acknowledge the introduction.
Bob studied Ella with a considering look.
“I see you know something about Vortex,” he said. “That means Coppersmith is aware of it, too.”
“Arcane and the FBPI are also investigating Vortex,” Ella said. “Oh, yes, and the Guilds. Rafe has kept them all informed. No stuffing that genie back into the bottle.”
“The board of directors won’t be thrilled to find out that this particular operation has drawn so much attention, but that’s not my problem. The people at the top will find a way to stay hidden in the shadows. Arcane, the FBPI, and the Guilds will never find them.”
“Vortex is involved in the illegal Alien-tech business, isn’t it?”
“You think Coppersmith isn’t conducting research on some very exotic Alien tech as we speak? Give me a break. You can’t be that naïve.”
“Coppersmith takes contracts with the government. It works with law enforcement.”
Bob snorted. “Here’s a bulletin for you, Ella. So does Vortex—under a different corporate logo, of course. There’s a very thin line between legal and illegal when it comes to Alien-tech research. At times that line is damn near invisible. It disappears completely when there’s a lot of money and power involved.”
“What do you want with me?”
“You are our last hope for saving the Ghost City operation. We’ve had a hard time getting Mr. Raphael Coppersmith’s attention. We’re betting you can do it for us.”
“You certainly got his attention after two botched kidnapping attempts.”
“Well, we didn’t bungle this one, did we?” Bob said.
“Because you went after me, not Rafe. You can forget the Ghost City project. It’s going nowhere.”
Bob raised his brows. “I see Coppersmith told you something about what happened to him three months ago.”
“I know that the venture was a disaster. Rafe almost died.”
“Did he tell you that someone went missing? A man named Roger Jay.”
“The rogue tech Rafe tried to rescue? The one who caused the explosion in the ruins?”
“Jay was working for Vortex,” Bob said. “He made it out alive, barely. He was badly burned and hallucinating like crazy. He didn’t survive long. But before he died he said he’d seen Coppersmith vanish into a pool of crystal.”
“Jeez. Coppersmith Security really needs to get its act together. Sounds like they’ve hired a bunch of Vortex spies.”
“Don’t blame Coppersmith Security,” Bob said. “They’re good. But Vortex is better. Everyone in the high-tech-quartz business has been searching for those ruins for decades—ever since the first miner stumbled out of the catacombs with wild stories about a hidden city of ice and fog. When word leaked that Coppersmith Mining was going to lead an expedition to search for it, Vortex managed to embed an operative on the team. That man was Jay.”
“That’s called corporate espionage.”
Bob smiled. “I believe it is.”
“What made Vortex think that Rafe’s team would find the Ghost City when all the other expeditions had failed?”
“You don’t know much about the mining business, do you?”
“No.”
“It’s a small world at the top, and inside that small world, everyone knows that no one is better than Rafe Coppersmith when it comes to locating hot crystal and quartz deposits.”
“But he got burned,” Ella said. “He lost his talent. He has no clear memories of the venture.”
“My employers don’t believe that. They think Coppersmith put out the psi-burn story to convince competitors that the search for the Ghost City was a failure.”
“Your employers are either crazy or unbelievably stupid because they’re taking a huge risk for nothing.”
“No, Miss Morgan, they are very, very smart and quite ruthless.” Bob’s eyes heated with something that looked a lot like lust. “And they pay very, very well for successful outcomes. I intend to deliver one tonight. When this is over I will get a lot of money, a new identity, and a new position inside Vortex. Eventually, I’m going to be sitting on the board.”
Unwholesome excitement shivered in the atmosphere around Bob. He was serious, she thought, deadly serious.
“You’re the one who shot that poor DND guy, Kenneth Maitland, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t waste too much pity on Maitland if I were you. He was looking to score. He found out about me, you see. That’s the information he planned to sell to Rafe Coppersmith.”
“How did Maitland discover that you were working for Vortex? Are you saying that DND and Vortex are connected after all?”
“Why would Vortex want to get involved with an unsophisticated scam operation like DND? But like Vortex, DND wanted to embed one of their people inside the Coppersmith jobsite on Rainshadow. Wonderland promises to be worth several fortunes, after all. At the time I was inserted into the project, Vortex had abandoned the Ghost City operation because we figured Rafe Coppersmith really was a total burnout.”
“Imagine your surprise when you found out that his father had sent him to troubleshoot the Wonderland project.”
“As soon as I saw him I knew he wasn’t a b
urnout. No question but that he’s still a hot talent. Not sure what kind of talent, but he’s obviously sane and powerful. The fact that he had survived in good shape meant that the original Ghost City project might still be viable. I was in charge because I was the man on site.”
“It was your big chance to prove to your bosses that you were destined for management, is that it?”
“Pretty much,” Bob said. “We went back to Plan A. But by then Maitland had found me. He was DND’s fund-raiser for a while but he was good with the tech stuff. He hacked into the personnel files of all the Coppersmith employees on Rainshadow in order to figure out how to get Angela Price a place on the team.”
“In the process he stumbled over something in your file that raised a red flag?”
“You got it,” Bob said “It was probably an accident. But he got curious. Followed the leads straight to one of the Vortex shell corporations. Luckily, when he got that far he hit a couple of tripwires that I had out on the reznet. He left his own prints and I followed him back to DND.”
“That’s how you discovered his relationship to Angela Price.”
“That worried me for a while. Thought I might have to arrange an accident for her. But Maitland kept the info about me to himself. I don’t think he trusted Angela completely. He knew that she was a true believer in the DND movement. He was smart enough to realize that, in the end, she might choose the movement, not him. He was right.”
“How can you be sure that he didn’t tell anyone else about you?”
“Because Coppersmith Security hasn’t tried to throw me off the jobsite.” Bob shrugged. “Besides, why would he tell anyone? There’s no logic in that. He planned to use the information to finance his early retirement. The only person he might have confided in was Angela. But I was there at the boathouse that night. I heard their argument. He never once mentioned my name.”
A faint, muted flicker of awareness touched Ella’s senses. Hope rushed through her. Maybe her talent was rising. But in the next moment something small and fast scuttled past the doorway. Ella caught a glimpse of four bright eyes and then Lorelei was gone.
“Shit.” Hodson jerked abruptly, straightened away from the quartz wall, and rezzed the flamer. A bolt of fire lanced the atmosphere in the corridor. He fired another blast from the flamer, aiming toward the floor.
Bob was on his feet, flamer pointed at the doorway. “What the hell?”
“A rat,” Hodson muttered. “Startled me. Those things are creepy.”
“There are no rats down here.” Bob glanced over his shoulder at Ella. His eyes narrowed. “Must have been a dust bunny.”
“Whatever it was, it’s gone now,” Hodson said. “That thing was fast.”
Bob shook his head, looking grim. “I don’t like this. If her damn dust bunny found her—”
“The dust bunny isn’t exactly a big problem,” Hodson said, disgusted. “It just startled me, that’s all. If it comes back, I’ll zap it.”
“You don’t understand and I don’t have time to explain,” Bob said. “We’re moving.” He reached into his pocket and took out a syringe. “On your feet, Ella.”
Panic arced through her. If Lorelei tried to attack the men by herself, she was doomed. Given her small size and the close quarters, a blast of fire from the weapon could easily prove lethal.
But Lorelei had found her. That meant there was hope that Rafe might eventually find her, too.
Pretending to stumble awkwardly to her feet, Ella focused what little energy she could summon on trying to send a message. Find Rafe.
The experts claimed that there was no such thing as telepathy, but there was some kind of bond between Lorelei and herself. And Lorelei was a natural-born predator. All predators had instincts for strategy. Surely such a small creature would realize she needed backup in a situation like this.
Hope, even the weak sort, was powerful stuff. Another little pulse of energy whispered through Ella. She was pretty sure that the music in the walls was getting louder. Just keep buying time, she thought.
She was on her feet now. Bob reached out to grab her arm and hold her still while he readied the syringe. Realizing his intent, she stepped back. He lunged toward her.
There was another scuttling movement in the doorway.
“It’s back,” Hodson growled. “I’ll get it this time.”
He rezzed the flamer and moved out into the hallway to get a clear shot.
Ella heard a sharp, very short yelp. Not Lorelei, she thought.
“What the hell?” Bob glanced toward the doorway. “Hodson?”
Ella decided she might not get a better chance. She still couldn’t pull any killer music but she had options.
She lashed out at the side of Bob’s leg with one bare foot and managed a direct hit on his kneecap. He grunted, released her, and staggered backward. The syringe dropped to the floor.
“Bitch,” he shouted.
He lunged toward her again but she was running for the door. She braced for a flamer burn on the back. She could probably survive a single shot, she thought. The flamers were designed to take down bad guys, not incinerate them. All she had to do was get out into the hall. Once she was free she could get lost in the tunnels. Lorelei would find her.
She nearly collided head-on with Rafe. He materialized in the doorway, a flamer in his hand.
“Drop it, Luttrell,” he said.
Ella stumbled to a halt and spun to the side so that she was not in Rafe’s line of fire. She caught a glimpse of Hodson. He was stretched out on the floor in the hallway, unconscious.
Lorelei came scampering down the hall, fully fluffed once more. She chortled and bounced up into Ella’s arms. Ella hugged her close.
There was a thud and a clatter as a heavy object hit the floor. Turning, Ella saw that Bob had dropped the flamer.
“Coppersmith.” Bob stared at Rafe in openmouthed disbelief. “How the hell did you find her? I know she wasn’t carrying any amber. I made certain of it.”
“Ella isn’t carrying amber,” Rafe said. “But you are. And naturally, Coppersmith Security has a record of every employee’s personal frequency. The company is very big on jobsite safety, you know. All it took to get your number was a quick call to Security on Rainshadow.”
Bob’s disbelief turned to open speculation. “You came down here alone? No backup?”
“Don’t worry,” Rafe said. “The FBPI is here, too.”
“That’s right,” Joe Harding said from the doorway. He moved to stand directly behind Ella. “I’m from the Bureau and I’m here to make this problem go away.”
“I called Special Agent Harding before I came down here to find you,” Rafe explained.
Ella glared at Harding. “It’s about time you got here. What’s with letting Rafe take all the risks? And how come there’s only you? This is a major crime. You should have brought along a full team of agents.”
“Like I said, I’m here to make this problem go away,” Harding said. He switched the flamer away from Bob and aimed it straight at Ella’s face. “Drop the gun, Coppersmith. You know what one blast will do to her at close range?”
“I knew it,” Ella said. “You just can’t trust the FBPI, at least not the Crystal City branch.”
Lorelei sleeked out and tried to wriggle free.
“No,” Ella whispered to her. “Please. Don’t move.”
Rafe put the weapon on the floor. Bob collected it quickly and stepped back.
“Sure glad to see you, Harding,” Bob said. “For a few minutes there, I thought the plan was not going well.”
“What happens now?” Rafe asked.
“Once again we are going back to Plan A,” Harding said. “You and Luttrell will proceed to those coordinates you were given on your phone. The Vortex team will meet you there. You will take them to the ruins. You have twenty-four hours to open the portal. If I don’t get word that the venture has been successful before the deadline—”
“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Ella sa
id. “You’ll send me on a long walk through the tunnels without amber. You thug types really ought to get a new script.”
“As it happens, I am using a new script,” Harding said. “If Coppersmith doesn’t lead the Vortex team to the ruins within the deadline, I’m not going to send you into the catacombs without good amber. There’s a chance you might find your way out. So, I’m going to kill you and leave you in the Underworld. No one will ever find your body.”
Ella took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s new.”
Rafe glanced at the doorway. “Heard enough?”
“More than enough.”
A formidable man walked through the doorway. He was dressed in Guild khaki-and-leather and he looked very familiar. It took Ella a couple of beats to realize where she had seen him before—on the rez screen and in the papers. He was Fontana, the boss of the Crystal City Guild. More to the point, he was the man who had cleaned up the once-corrupt organization.
Fontana was followed by four other men, two of whom wore Guild attire. One of the others was dressed in the uniform of the Crystal City police. The fourth man was Chief Truett.
“Put the flamer down, Harding,” Truett ordered.
Harding hesitated. Ella felt the panic rising in the atmosphere and knew that he was debating whether to try to use her as a hostage. But the music was back. She got ready to sing.
“Harding, you might as well put the damn thing down,” Rafe said. “It’s inoperative. I de-rezzed the amber in the firing mechanism when we got into the sled.”
Harding stared at him, blank-faced with shock. “How?”
Rafe fished a small device out of his pocket and held it up so everyone could see it. “A little gadget from the Coppersmith labs. Get a focus, push a little energy through it, and you’ve got melted amber. Did you really think I’d risk bringing you down here if you were armed with a hot flamer?”
Harding grunted. He dropped the flamer.
Bob looked at Rafe. “I don’t get it. How did you know that I’m the one who took her?”