Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  “Gabie—”

  “And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” She smiled sweetly. “Because you are millions of miles away, you have no idea where I am, you can’t tell the peacekeepers or I’ll be done for harbouring a wanted criminal, and it’s kind of hard to have a relationship when I’m in slavery to another man or rotting in Cardrak. So...” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Give up, honey.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw and that only made her grin wider.

  “One day very soon, wench, you and I will be in the same room,” he finally managed to get out.

  “Ooohhh, I am so worried.”

  He obviously didn’t know whether to laugh or get angrier. His lips twitched, threatening to smile, while the glower wouldn’t leave his eyes.

  “Look, honey, I’ve been taking care of myself and my crew all this time without your advice and help. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.” She blew him a kiss.

  “Fine.” He didn’t want to say it, she just knew, because he didn’t look satisfied.

  “Good. See, you’re learning to give in to me already. That’s promising for a relationship.” Gabie laughed.

  Before he could say anything she flicked off the frequency. Leaning back in the chair, she lifted her legs and crossed her ankles on the console. Linking her hands behind her head, she gazed out at the stars beyond the space shield.

  Life sure took some interesting turns. This had to be one of the craziest for her yet. A law-abiding Daamen trader intent on a relationship with her and even weirder, the thought was tantalizing, and she was looking forward to meeting up with him again.

  Well, there you go. One question already answered. She would meet up with Shamon again, see where things went between them. Why not? He was the nicest thing to happen to her yet and she wasn’t averse to finding out more about him.

  It was also one of the most dangerous times of her life. Under Raznin’s hand, under the security’s harder hand, and with slaves locked in her cabins. Bait while two hungry sharks circled each other with the Larceny crew in-between.

  Definitely not the time to be pursuing relationships.

  Then again, how long could this possibly go on? Something else she had to ask Sabra when security contacted them.

  Life used to be so uncomplicated. Gabie sighed.

  ~ * ~

  They were heading for home. Shamon helped load the last cargo assignment onboard the trade ship. Frowning, he fixed the holding bar around the crate. He hadn’t heard from Gabie since he’d spoken to her the previous night. And she hadn’t sent him any schedules.

  If she thought she was just going to disappear into the black space without giving their budding relationship a chance, the wench had another think coming. Shamon had contacts who would soon locate her position.

  Hell, if she’d stated straight out that she didn’t want a relationship, that she wasn’t interested in him that way, he’d have given up. Mayhaps. Mayhaps not. Not. He grinned faintly. But the flush in her cheeks, her cheeky grin, and her sparkling eyes while she’d talked to him had definitely not been a backing-off. Nay, the wench was interested. Intrigued. Whatever, he would take either and use it to further their relationship.

  Heddam appeared in the doorway of the cargo hold.

  “About time you showed up,” Shamon said. “Slacking off while we work.”

  Mikal winked. “I think he fancied the buxom wench in the tavern and went back to spread his... er... love.”

  “You’re just jealous, lad,” Heddam returned. “And for your information, I’ve been getting some last minute details for Simon.”

  “Of course you were.” Mikal laughed and walked past him down the ramp.

  All traces of cheerfulness left Heddam’s face and he walked into the cargo hold.

  Shamon straightened slowly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Did Gabie mention that she had a visitor yesterday morn?”

  “Nay.” Now what trouble had the wench gotten into? “’Twasn’t Michel?”

  “Nay.” Heddam leaned one arm on the crate, heavy biceps bulging. “Sabra and Freeman were there, though.”

  Just the names were enough to strike fear into Shamon’s gut. “If they both visited Gabie, ’twouldn’t be friendly.”

  “Aye.” Heddam nodded.

  “How did you find out?”

  “One of the merchants saw them early yesterday morn. He was going for an early morning stroll and knows Gabie. He saw three people enter their spaceship, and he remembered seeing them at the Enforcement Building. He described them and Shamon, ’twas definitely those two, along with Michel.”

  ’Twas bad. Two security officers aboard a smuggler’s ship. Sabra wouldn’t bother with small pickings like Gabie unless there was something else involved. Shamon looked over at the small, inconspicuous, unmarked IPC security planet craft that was docked in the docking bay.

  Something bad.

  It had to be Emet. Was that why Gabie hadn’t sent her travel schedule?

  Simon looked up when Shamon strode down the ramp. “Everything all right?”

  “Sabra was spotted going into Gabie’s spaceship yesterday,” Shamon replied tersely.

  “Sabra?” Simon’s brows rose in surprise. “What would she want with the little smuggler?”

  “Exactly. And ’twasn’t long after that Gabie left the planet.”

  “Really?” Simon also looked towards the IPC security planet craft.

  As they both looked, Sabra walked out of the door and jumped lithely down the steps to the ground. She had one hand at her ear and was talking, obviously into a communicator.

  Was she in touch with Gabie? And if so, it could only be dangerous.

  Shamon had to know. Fear clenched his gut at just the thought of Gabie being in danger. Was she safe? Was she even now lying in a broken, bleeding heap?

  “You’ve gone pale.” Concerned, Simon laid his hand on Shamon’s shoulder. “Shamon?”

  “I have to talk to her. To Sabra.” Shamon started towards the smaller planet craft, only to remember he was working. He swung back. “Simon, I’m sorry. I have to—”

  Simon waved him away. “Go. In your place I would.”

  He needed no second bidding. Long legs eating up the distance between them, he bore down on Sabra.

  Canny wench that she was, she took one look at his face, said something into the communicator in her ear, stopped talking and waited for him. She stood easily but there was a leashed threat about her, something quiet and patient waiting to spring.

  Wasting no time, Shamon stopped directly before her, making her tip her head back to look up at him. “What did you want with Gabie?”

  Ten

  Those all-seeing cobalt eyes studied him steadily before she replied, “’Twas just a little personal business, Shamon. Nothing to get uptight about.”

  “Security and a smuggler together ’tis certainly something to get uptight about.”

  “Security has investigated smugglers before.”

  Shamon’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t mess with me, wench. Gabie as a smuggler is no threat to the galaxy. She’d tell you that herself. She’s small time.”

  Sabra arched one brow.

  “Security isn’t interested in small time.” Bracing his hands on his hips, Shamon frowned down at Sabra. “What did you want with her?”

  In no way intimated, Sabra replied coolly, “’Tisn’t your business, Shamon, so back off.”

  “I’m making it my business.” He was about to mention Emet, but something stopped him. If Emet hadn’t hurt Gabie, his presence on her ship could very well make her situation worse. But neither was he going to give up.

  “’Tis the problem with you traders, you latch on to some wench and think you’re owed explanations.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Nay.” She started to turn away. “Go back to your work and let me do mine.”

  “Fine. I know some of what’s happening and I have contacts. I can get word to
Gabie, but ’twon’t necessarily be on a secured frequency, because after all, I don’t know her frequency and I had to get some... unscrupulous... help in contacting her earlier.” Shamon watched as Sabra went still. “I’m sure the message that security is on her tail will spread to not only Gabie, but the whole galaxy.”

  Sabra glanced over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t put Gabie in danger.”

  “Mayhaps I’ll be saving her tail.”

  “Go home, Shamon.”

  Anger spiked through Shamon as Sabra walked back towards her planet craft. Two long strides had him close enough to wrap his hand around her upper arm and swing her back around. He knew it was only because she knew who ’twas that she didn’t punch him out with one of her deadly moves. Instead, she scowled up at him.

  “I won’t be giving up, Sabra,” he stated between clenched teeth.

  “Problem?” A voice queried from the doorway.

  Shamon didn’t even bother to glance up at Freeman. “’Twill be if someone doesn’t tell me about Gabie’s involvement with security.”

  “Ahhh,” Freeman said.

  Sabra looked down at her arm. “Get your hands off me, Shamon.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Tell me.”

  “What’s going on here?” Michel’s voice came from behind Shamon.

  “A friendly discussion between friends,” Heddam’s voice also came from behind Shamon.

  “Bloody wonderful.” Sabra sucked in an angry breath. “The whole happy mob is here.”

  “Sabra?” Michel queried. “Freeman?”

  “Just waiting for the boss to decide what she’s going to do next,” Freeman answered cheerfully.

  “Back off, Shamon,” Sabra growled.

  “Nay. Tell me about Gabie.”

  “Gabie?” Michel said in surprise from behind Shamon.

  “Aye.” Shamon didn’t take his gaze from Sabra.

  “I’m telling you nothing,” she replied coldly.

  “’Tis to do with the outlaw?”

  “Outlaw?” The wench scarcely missed a beat. “Aye. The outlaw. What’s his name again...?”

  He had her. “I must be mistaken.” Shamon took a step back.

  “Nay, you’re not mistaken.” Sabra tapped her chin. “Freeman, what was the outlaw’s name? ’Tis slipped my mind.”

  “I don’t recall.”

  Sabra looked expectantly at Shamon and satisfaction filled him. Security knew nothing about the outlaw hidden on Gabie’s ship, so he wasn’t the threat. Mayhaps. But for certain Gabie was mixed up with security in something and ’twas bad. ’Twas always bad to be mixed up with security.

  Shamon’s smile was anything but congenial. “Tit for tat, lass.”

  Sabra’s eyes narrowed. The wench was no fool. “What do you know of an outlaw?”

  “What do you know of Gabie?” He folded his arms, his biceps bunching.

  “’Tis not your business.”

  “Gabie,” he stated quietly, “is my business.”

  “She’s a no-good smuggler.”

  “She’s my lover.”

  Well there ’twas, all laid bare. Eyes flashing cobalt fire, Sabra sucked in a deep breath through gritted her teeth. The wench wasn’t impressed.

  “And as my lover,” Shamon continued relentlessly, “her business is my business, especially if ’tis dangerous business. Now you either let me in on what ’tis happening, wench, or I’ll be finding out myself. Only ’twon’t be so private.”

  “Why,” Sabra snarled, “do you bloody traders always fall for the worst wenches?”

  “Lucky, I guess,” he replied easily. “Consider your own husband.”

  Oh aye, he had the stubborn wench now.

  “Who is the outlaw you speak of?” Sabra demanded.

  “Nay. You give me some information first, wench.” Shamon rocked back on his heels, his gaze never leaving hers. “A little trade-off.”

  “Spoken like a true Daamen,” Freeman commented in amusement.

  Sabra glared at Shamon and he could just about see her brain ticking, turning over her options.

  Seconds passed until she finally looked at Freeman. “Enter Shamon’s body pattern in the security shield”

  Within minutes Shamon was seated in the dining cabin of the IPC security ship. It seemed they never rested, for a huge radar screen was set in one wall and an intergalactic map was set in the other wall. Freeman flicked all the screens to blank as Shamon walked in. A scanner was fixed above the kitchen bench. Several handtronics sat on the table beside two used mugs. A plate with crumbs lay in the middle of the table.

  The dining cabin was small and functional.

  Arms folded and her expression controlled, Sabra leaned back against the bench. “Tell me about this outlaw.”

  “Oh nay, lass. You tell me first about Gabie and her involvement with you.”

  “Tit for tat you said.”

  “You first.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Hell, nay. I know you Sabra. I hold a key you may want.” Shamon mimed unlocking with a key. “You have information I want. You first.”

  She exchanged glances with Freeman, who shrugged and said, “You’re the boss.”

  “You backing out now, lass?” Shamon pushed.

  “I’m figuring how much to tell you.”

  “You tell me what I need to know. You tell me about Gabie’s involvement in whatever ’tis you’re investigating.”

  “I’m going to tell Cam what an arse you are, Shamon.”

  “He already knows, and in my position he’d do the same.” Settling in the chair, Shamon pinned her with a steady gaze. “Give.”

  “’Tis all really very simple,” Sabra replied. “We’re investigating a slave ring and Gabie has had contact with some of those involved in the ring.”

  “A real link.” Freeman smirked.

  Shamon glanced at him curiously.

  “Ignore him,” Sabra said. “Gabie and her crew agreed to work with us to find the main ringleaders of the smuggling ring.”

  “She agreed?” Somehow Shamon doubted that.

  “She took a little persuading but eventually she saw it our way.”

  “You threatened her.”

  “Who, me?”

  “Aye, you.”

  “I’m a little shocked you’d think such a thing.”

  Shamon just looked at her unblinkingly.

  “Anyway.” Sabra shrugged. “There you have it. Your turn.”

  “Oh nay. ’Tis not it.” Shamon didn’t budge an inch. “Where is she headed?”

  “She’s being monitored and we’re in contact with her. Your turn.”

  Studying her, Shamon stroked his jaw consideringly. “The wench is in danger.”

  “Not if she does as she’s told.”

  “Do you have anyone with her?”

  “Her crew. Cargo.”

  Leaning forward, Shamon’s eyes narrowed. “Cargo as in human cargo?”

  Sabra shrugged.

  Shamon surged up from the chair. “You made her carry human cargo? Slaves?”

  “I didn’t make her. That was the cargo on offer from one of the links.”

  “If she’s caught—”

  “If she’s caught security will intervene. She’s safe.”

  “Safe?” Smoke was practically coming from Shamon’s ears. “Sending Gabie and her friends into a den of illegal slavery is about as safe as sticking their hands out the space shield in space! Have you lost your mind?”

  Sabra looked at him blankly.

  “Gabie and her friends are harmless, and to involve them in this is—is—unacceptable!” Shoving his fists on his hip, he stated furiously, “I’m coming with you.”

  “What?”

  “Somehow you are going to get me aboard the Larceny.”

  “Not happening.”

  “You are not sending that lass into a nest of slavers without me to protect her!”

>   “Take it easy, trader. Gabie’s not exactly going into a nest.”

  “Oh? Then what is she going into?”

  “Remains to be seen.”

  “She could be blown from the sky or worse if her cover is discovered!”

  Crossing to the radar, Sabra flicked a switch and a section of it flared to life. “The Larceny is being monitored. Security is scattered throughout the area in different guises. She runs into trouble, we’ll be there.”

  “And how long would that be?”

  “Gosh, let me think,” Sabra returned sarcastically. “It’s a big universe out there.”

  “Damn it!” Shamon slammed his fist on the table, ignoring the little crack it gave.

  Unimpressed and unfazed, Sabra regarded him steadily.

  “Why Gabie?”

  “Because she was contacted. Because she’s the one likely to get through without being checked. Because she’s the one most overlooked because of her little gadgets. Just because.” Sabra arched one brow. “Now, about that outlaw...”

  Shamon glared at her. “She knows a lot. Comes from working in the Outlaw Sector.”

  “Give me more than that.”

  “She met one recently, helped him out.”

  “You better have more than that.”

  “’Tis all I’ve got.”

  Eyes blazing, Sabra snapped upright.

  “And by the way,” Shamon added. “You’re taking me with you on this trip.”

  “You’re not coming!”

  “Then you’re keeping me informed of everything that happens.”

  Striding across the small cabin, Sabra stopped, scowled angrily up at him and jabbed him in the chest with one stiff finger. “You’re riding thin ice, Shamon. I could have your arse slung in the Enforcement Building in seconds. You keep out of this and keep your bloody nose clean, you hear me?”

  Bending down so that they were almost nose to nose, Shamon growled back, “’Tis obvious Cam hasn’t been keeping you in hand.” Swinging away on his heel, he strode from the cabin.

  Sabra’s cursing was music to his ears. Freeman’s laughter echoed in the corridor.

  Heddam was waiting for him when he stormed down the ramp. He didn’t ask anything, but his brows rose inquiringly and he fell into step beside Shamon as he headed for the trade ship.