They saw her and laughed harder.
Men and their small minds. Gabie shrugged and strode through the docking bay to the settlement beyond.
Paz walked beside her, his steps big and ungainly. Olin meandered not far behind. Misha she’d left behind to guard Emet.
She had a couple of last cargo loads to pick up and then it was time to leave for the next destination, which just happened to be near the Outlaw Sector. She had merchants waiting, merchants who weren’t too fussy from where their goods came.
Entering the settlement, she elbowed her way through the throng of people that were already crowding the streets. Paz used his own sharp elbows to the accompaniment of curses from the unfortunate recipients. Olin ambled along behind, yawning.
Coming to a stop at one of the warehouses, Gabie looked up at the number. It was the right place. These merchants were solely into honest trade. Nothing like a challenge.
“Olin?”
“Yes?”
“How about you go and order some fresh stores for the Larceny. Paz, you might as well go and organize the fuel tankers and fresh water. If my deals go well this day, we may be able to head out the day after tomorrow. We need to get our orders in soon or we could leave it too late.”
“No worries.” They both left and went their separate ways.
Going inside, the glare of the sun was replaced by the cool shadows of the building. Two men waited to see her. Otherwise the warehouse was empty.
“Gabie.” A lean man with a moustache nodded at her.
“Tason?”
“Yes.” He nodded to someone behind her and the door clicked shut.
Surprised, Gabie glanced around. Two men stood in front of the closed door, watching her closely.
“We wanted a little bit of privacy,” Tason said easily. “To discuss business.”
“Oh?” Cripes, this doesn’t sound good.
Tason crossed over to her, the other man following and stopping to the side but still just behind him.
Oh shit, this doesn’t look good at all.
“I’m told that Link has approached you to carry cargo for him.”
“Yeah.” She eyed him closely, shifting her stance a little so that her fingers brushed the laser holstered at her thigh. “I told him no.”
“That’s what I was told, too.” Tason looked at the floor for several seconds then angled his head and looked up at her, a disconcerting look. “Now I’m here to tell you that Link works for us.”
“Us?”
“Raznin and me.”
Uh-oh. She knew of Raznin, and he was bad news. He was also high up on the smugglers’ food chain, and if what she suddenly feared was true, he was about to snack on Gabie and her crew.
She kept her expression blank. “I see.”
“You refuse Link, you refuse Raznin. Now see, Raznin would like to talk to you himself.”
“Oh really?” With a sinking heart Gabie knew she had to make a stand of some kind. If she let the big sharks snack on her now, they’d never let her go. And why the hell pick on her now? She was small fry.
“So, if you’ll kindly accompany us...” He gestured to the loading door at the back of the warehouse.
Oh yeah, that would be asking to be fried up and served with garnish. Not happening.
“I’d really like to,” Gabie said. “But I have people waiting—”
“This isn’t really just an invitation you can refuse.” Tason smiled, but there was no humour in his cold eyes. “If you know what I mean.”
“I think I do.” Oh crap
“So step right this way.”
“Now really isn’t a good time—” She reached for the laser.
Two big hands clamped onto her arms, one each side, and she was shoved forward.
“No need to be hasty!” Heart thumping, she started to struggle. “I just want to organize another time!”
No one was listening. The cargo loading doors loomed closer, and as one of the men slid it open she sucked in a deep breath. A hand clamped over her mouth before she could shout and she was bundled straight into the planet shuttle and forced down onto the floor, a heavy weight pinning her there as the shuttle lifted and soared away from the warehouse.
This was not how she’d planned her day. In fact, this was one of the things she’d avoided. Gabie’s heart pounded in her chest. Sometimes life just sucked.
~ * ~
Mellar studied the data sheets but his mind was only half on the information. No one had caught Emet yet, but the planet cruiser he’d escaped in had been found abandoned near a settlement on Moutern. Blood had been on the seat. Emet was injured, and someone was going to find him soon.
Lips pursed, Mellar pushed back from the viscomm and tapped the fingers of one hand idly on the desktop. He would be found, and then what? An outlaw, branded, claimed. If Mellar didn’t register him as missing, then questions might be asked.
Questions were going to be asked anyway if Emet had that information and it was discovered by the wrong people.
Swivelling the chair around, Mellar stared out the window. Should he register Emet as missing? Should he wait a bit longer, see if Cheran found him? Yes, he would wait another day. No one would blame him for not noticing a missing claimed outlaw. He was meant to be mourning his stupid wife’s death, after all.
Blowing out a deep breath, Mellar swung the chair back around, intending to recommence studying the data sheet, but instead he simply stared unseeingly at the screen.
He’d worked so hard, covered his tracks, done everything the best way. Hired the best people. Now it could all come crashing down if Emet wasn’t found before he parted with his information.
“You stupid bitch,” he breathed, looking at the photo image of his wife.
Picking it up, he made to hurl it across the room but remembered just in time that that kind of thing would be wrong. A mourning, loving husband didn’t trash his wife’s photo image.
Placing it down carefully onto the desktop again, he stared broodingly at it for several seconds, then gave a sigh of disgust and turned back to the data sheet on the viscomm screen.
~ * ~
Walking back from another meeting with a couple of merchants, Shamon, Simon and Aamun were discussing the favourable outcome when Shamon noticed Paz and Olin standing outside one of the warehouses, a frown on their faces. Or rather, Olin was frowning, Paz looked like he was going to cry.
Curious, Shamon looked again at the warehouse. The big door was open but inside was dark and empty. Was Gabie in there somewhere, working on another illegal smuggling deal? It wouldn’t surprise him, the wench just never stopped. Though it didn’t explain why Olin was frowning, unless the agreement was becoming heated.
“I’ll catch up with you,” Shamon told Simon before stepping down into the street and crossing to the other side. Coming to a stop beside Olin, he glanced into the shadowed depths of the warehouse. “Trouble, friend?”
“Huh?” Olin jumped nervously. “Uh... no.”
“Gabie inside doing a deal you don’t approve of?” Simon looked at Paz.
“She should be,” Paz muttered.
“Shut up, Paz,” Olin said gruffly. “No, she’s not in there.”
Something in the way he said it made Shamon glance sharply at Paz again. Now he could see the worry stamped onto the youth’s face.
That only made his own concern flare up. If two of Gabie’s crew were worried, then something had to be wrong. Without another word he strode into the warehouse, fully expecting to find Gabie in a heated argument or worse with some low life scum.
The warehouse was empty. Nothing stirred. No cargo was inside, no people. No merchants and no little smuggler.
Turning around slowly, Shamon scanned the big room, trying to spot anything that might give him a hint of what was causing the pair outside such concern. Unable to find anything, he strode back outside. “She’s not in there.”
“We know,” Olin replied tightly.
“What’s
wrong, then?”
“Nothing. Gabie must have left after securing her deal.” Olin stepped back. “No doubt she’s waiting for us back at the Larceny. Come on, boy.”
Paz looked miserably at Shamon and scurried off after the older man, his knobbly knees sticking out beneath the tight pants he wore.
Shamon watched them go.
“Trouble?” Simon came up behind him.
“I don’t know. Olin and Paz are worried about Gabie, ’tis for sure.” Hands on his hips, Shamon glanced around the street, and his gaze fell on Michel, the Head Peacekeeper.
Going by Michel’s stance, he’d been standing on the opposite side of the street for a while, watching the goings on of the settlement.
Or watching for Gabie. “He’d love to have me for his personal slave...” Had Michel been waiting for something to happen so he could catch her in the act, have her branded outlaw and claim her for himself?
’Tis never going to happen as long as I live. Shamon glared at him and then a sudden thought occurred to him. Did the peacekeeper already have Gabie in custody? Michel returned his glare with a cool look of his own and stepped down off the veranda. As he walked across the street the settlers made way for him. The man was obviously respected by the law-abiding, but that didn’t make Shamon feel any better.
The traders watched as Michel stepped up onto the veranda and approached them, his eyes assessing. Aamun turned and perched on the railing, ignoring the ominous creak it gave under his powerful weight. Simon leaned against the wall of the warehouse. Shamon faced the peacekeeper, his feet braced apart and hands on hips.
“Traders.” Michel nodded coolly.
One had to respect a man who didn’t cower in front of men who towered head and shoulders above him.
“Peacekeeper.” Shamon nodded back at him.
“This warehouse is getting a bit of attention just lately.” Michel didn’t remove his level gaze from Shamon. “Considering it’s been empty for two days awaiting a new shipment that’s a little curious isn’t it?”
“Aye.” Shamon watched him closely.
“Mind telling me what your interest in it is?”
“I thought someone I knew was in there. I was wrong.”
“Ah. Gabie. Yes, I noticed Olin and Paz here earlier.” Michel’s face remained expressionless. “They were looking a bit concerned.”
“Aye.”
“But Gabie wasn’t in there. Interesting.”
Shamon waited for Michel to say that he had her, but instead the peacekeeper kept looking at him.
Finally Michel asked, “Do you know where she is, trader?”
“Nay.” Shamon sure as hell wished he did know.
“Mmm. If you do see her, let her know I wish to have a word with her.”
“Aye, I’ll do that.”
With a nod the peacekeeper strode away, his steps sure, his boots thudding on the wooden veranda.
“Curious.” Simon watched him walk away then switched his gaze to Shamon.
“Aye.” Aamun stroked his jaw. “I wonder what the wench is up to this time?”
“Whatever ’tis, seems she hasn’t told her crew.” Shamon looked at the warehouse once more. “And I’d say ’tis something she doesn’t do often, going by their concern.” He turned to Simon. “If you don’t need me, I think I’ll have a walk around, see if I can spot the wench.”
“No worries.” Simon nodded. “I’ll head back to the ship and get these trade items logged in with the Daamen Trade Base.”
“I’ll amble around as well,” Aamun said, getting up off the railing. “’Tis another set of eyes to spot the troublesome little smuggler.”
They split up, Aamun heading in one direction, Shamon in the other. When they met up near the edge of the settlement an hour later, neither had seen Gabie.
Silently they strode back to the docking bay. As they entered the gates, they saw Misha, Olin and Paz standing near the ramp of the Larceny. They stood close together, their expressions intense. Misha looked grim, the albino’s pretty face tight with concern. Paz was chewing his nails and Olin was rubbing his brow tiredly.
About to veer in their direction, Shamon was stopped by the sight of Gabie coming from another direction of the docking bay. Stepping down from a small planet shuttle that had just landed, she started walking towards the Larceny. What alarmed Shamon was the fact that her normal carefree bounce was missing from her steps and her features were set. He’d never seen her without at least a touch of merriment on her pretty face.
“Now what has happened, do you think?’ Aamun murmured.
“Something not good, ’tis my guess.” Shamon watched Paz, Misha and Olin descend on Gabie, the relief more than apparent on their faces.
He had to fight his urge to walk over, sling an arm around her shoulders and ask her what ’twas wrong. To put the merry smile back on her face.
It wasn’t his business. He couldn’t interfere. She was a smuggler, and smugglers didn’t always get away with things. Obviously whatever deal she’d been working on had turned sour. But it wouldn’t stop him from keeping watch on her ship to make sure no one came with lasers firing.
Gabie and her crew returned to the ship, Gabie speaking quietly. She didn’t look once in his direction as they strode up the ramp and disappeared into the Larceny’s cargo hold.
Drawing to a stop near the ramp of the big trade spaceship, Shamon found Simon watching the Larceny thoughtfully. His captain and friend gave him a quizzical look.
“The wench wasn’t in the settlement that I could see,” Shamon replied. “Obviously she had a meeting elsewhere.”
“Obviously. She didn’t look happy.”
“A smuggler’s lot ’tisn’t always a happy one.” Shamon looked across at the spaceship. And he hated to see Gabie unhappy.
Mayhaps he’d pay her a little visit later, see what he could find out.
The rest of the morning was spent unloading crates of pottery for a local merchant. As they loaded the crates onto the hover tray for him, Shamon kept his eye on the Larceny. All seemed to be quiet.
They’d just finished loading the hover tray with the last crate when he saw Michel enter the docking bay and without hesitation go straight to the Larceny. Gabie met him at the bottom of the ramp. Michel handed her the disc and she laughed.
Shamon was relieved when it was the same tinkling laugh of old. She said something to Michel and he saw the frown appear on the peacekeeper’s face. He said something back to Gabie and she grinned widely. Her face lit up with mischief and she gestured towards the cargo hold, no doubt inviting him in for another look.
The more sharply Michel spoke to her, the wider her grin became, until he finally gave up in disgust and stalked away.
Pocketing the disc, Gabie swung around and caught sight of Shamon watching. She waved cheerfully at him and disappeared into the depths of her ship.
Whatever had been troubling the wench ’twas sorted, and relief filled him. Turning, he went up the ramp and into the cargo hold.
“She’ll push the law too far one day,” Heddam commented from where he leaned back against the bench on the far side of the hold.
“The wench pushes everyone too far.” Shamon’s gaze fell on the pair of dice sitting on the bench beside Heddam. “She’ll cheat once too often and then there’ll be trouble.”
Grinning, Heddam palmed the dice. “She has been found out.”
And she was in trouble. The wench just didn’t know it yet. Anticipation filling him, Shamon smiled. He’d be paying the wench a little visit later, all right. He just needed to get her on her own.
~ * ~
In the shadows they watched, waiting. Nothing bypassed their attention. They knew. They tracked and brought down with no mercy. Suspicions aroused, they were tracking now. And if what they found was not to their liking, they’d be bringing down their prey without mercy or fear.
~ * ~
“Tell us what happened,” Misha demanded as soon as they were in the dini
ng cabin of the Larceny. “You disappear and then return in a planet shuttle. Something’s up.”
“Something is up.” Gabie poured a glass of icy berry juice and slumped down at the table. “The sharks are circling.”
Alarmed, Olin, Paz and Misha looked at each other.
“Who is it?” Misha queried.
“Raznin.”
“Bugger me!” Olin was aghast. “What does he want?”
“And where did you meet him?” Paz was white.
“He was lying in wait for me at the warehouse. It was a set-up.” Gabie took a long swallow of the juice. “They bundled me into the planet shuttle and took me to Raznin’s little hideaway in the hills.”
“He has a house?” Paz’s brows shot up.
“No. His spaceship was in the hills. I was escorted politely aboard and into the presence of the great shark himself.” Gabie traced wet circles on the table with the condensation running from the glass. “Seems Link works for him.”
“Aw, no.” Misha shook her head in disgust. “So when Link was asking you to carry goods for him...”
“He meant carry goods for Raznin.”
“Bugger me!” Olin repeated.
“Yeah. So refusing Raznin didn’t go down too well.”
Misha’s mouth tightened. “What happened? What did he do to you?”
“He told me if I don’t agree to carry his goods through the Lawful Sector, then he’d be making an example of me.” Gabie stared at the far wall.
That was putting it mildly. She could still see Raznin sitting in his chair, a plate of food before him, picking at the salad. His eyes had a dead look about them, his mouth a cruel slash beneath the thin moustache.
“What did you tell him?” Olin asked.
“I told him thanks but no thanks, I was quite happy doing small time smuggling. It was all we could handle.”
For once Misha didn’t argue. “And how’d he take that?”
“Not too good.” Gabie rolled her shoulders, still feeling the imprint of the hard hands that had forced her to her knees before Raznin. Her back still ached from the position of being on hands and knees and having her head pulled back by a fist in her hair, so she could see the shark watching her dispassionately while he chewed on a leg of chicken.
Heart of a Smuggler Page 9