Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

  A child shrieked as another burst of gunfire answered that. Beyond it, she heard the mother and father murmuring quietly, presumably comforting their children. Deciding she needed to know where they were, she conjured a trio of translucent orbs and directed them through the hole where the door used to be.

  Two vanished in a shower of sparkles. The third returned to reveal what she needed to know.

  The rebels had herded the family into the center of the living room. One crouched behind them and the other stood to one side, his gun aimed steadfastly at the doorway.

  They will never get their bond back. She made a mental note to pay for any damages.

  Now that she knew where the terrorists were, it was easy to flood the apartment in a cloud of blue-tinged orbs of eMU. She kept these dancing while she sent strands of gMU snaking over the floor. With the rebels momentarily distracted, she walked into the apartment.

  Her quarry hadn’t completely fallen for the distraction. Instead of having their guns trained on the door, they had them aimed at the family. Both parents were huddled over their children as if that would be enough to shield them.

  “That’s far enough,” the human told her and his finger tensed against the trigger.

  Stephanie froze.

  “Now, back up.”

  She raised her hands while her eyes scanned the apartment, noting the still-open curtains on the living room window. The rebel glared.

  “I said, back up.”

  Her lips twitched into a smirk as she took a step back. The man jerked his weapon around, choosing to focus on her instead of the family. The half-Meligornian followed his lead and his face reflected her smile. “I don’t know what you’re smiling about—”

  The glass behind them shattered and she created a dome of blue over the family. Lars landed behind the Meligornian and Zeekat bounded behind him.

  The cat was a monochrome blur as it swept under Lars’s legs, tumbled him, and brought the rebel down with a spray of blood into a screaming heap. A yellow-and-black blur hurdled over Lars, bounced off the shield, and knocked the human rebel off his feet.

  “Don’t eat!” Stephanie shouted. “Zee! Bee! Don’t kill. Hold.”

  Bee raised his head and his jaws snapped shut on thin air instead of the human’s head. He extended the claws on the paw he’d placed on the man’s chest and his prisoner screamed.

  “Bee! We need to know what they have inside their minds.”

  The man’s arm moved toward the dropped SMG and the cat responded, slapped his paw over the man’s biceps, and extended claws into that, instead.

  Zeekat’s target stopped moving and stared into the feline’s snarling jaws in white-faced terror.

  Lars dragged himself to his feet and glared at the cat. “That was my kill.”

  Zee snarled at him, and he reached out to tap him on the nose. He froze as the cat’s mouth engulfed his hand and its ears perked.

  “You are such a funny fucker,” the team leader grumbled. “Now, give me my hand back.”

  The feline’s tail lashed and his jaws tightened.

  “Cat, if you eat me, I’ll choke you from the inside,” the man threatened. “Not to mention kick your tail ten ways to hell and back.”

  Johnny walked past him, kicked the rebel’s SMG farther away, and slapped Zeekat on the shoulder. “Move over, boy. Steph wants to ask this one questions and he’s bleeding out.”

  Zee moved but he didn’t release Lars’s hand. Johnny went to work on the half-Meligornian, stripped the rest of the terrorist’s weapons, and tossed them out of reach. “And spit that out. You don’t know where it’s been.”

  The feline shot Johnny a look, spat Lars’s hand out, and made faces as though he’d eaten something unsavory.

  “Everyone’s a smart ass,” Lars muttered and looked at the frightened faces peering at them from under the shield. “Steph, do you want to let these people out? They look like they need to be somewhere else.”

  “Steph?” he repeated when she didn’t respond and turned his full attention to her.

  Her eyes were still as black as pitch and the magic rolled around her like coruscating flame. “Come on, Steph. We got them and we really need to get Marcus and Vishlog to medical. And the Navy will be pissed we borrowed its shuttle.”

  That seemed to get through. Some of the darkness faded from her eyes and she dropped the shield and hurried over to the family. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

  The father frowned at her and hesitated a moment before he responded. “We have freunde.”

  Colored light strobed down the buildings outside, and Lars tapped Stephanie on the shoulder. “We have to go.”

  Behind him, Johnny attached ropes to the rebels and Brendan hauled them unceremoniously into the shuttle, one at a time. The team grinned at their panicked curses when they dangled them temporarily in mid-air. She gestured to the apartment around them. “We will pay for the damage,” she told the father. “Do you have a card?”

  He looked past her to his wife and she shrugged.

  “A card?” Stephanie repeated. “A business card?”

  The woman’s face cleared. “Karte...visitenkarte.”

  “Oh.” Her husband retrieved his wallet and handed her a card.

  “We’ll be in touch,” she told him as a loud hailer boomed.

  “Steph...” Lars began, and she turned.

  “I know. We have to go.”

  She bolted to the window and leapt across the gap between the apartment and the hovering shuttle. The cats bounded over it with her and Lars landed beside her.

  “Take her up,” he commanded.

  The shuttle lifted and sirens wailed.

  “They’re hailing us,” Brenden said. “Does anyone here speak German?”

  “Anyone?” he repeated when he received only silence in response. “Because they sound really pissed.”

  One of the medics gave a heavy sigh. “I should simply leave you all to hang,” he grumbled, “but they’ll probably shoot us down and apologize later and I have a patient to attend to.”

  He made his way forward and they listened as he spoke in rapid-fire German to the angry policeman on the other end. They’d almost reached the consulate by the time the conversation was over and the medic returned.

  “You’re lucky you’re doing this on the Navy’s request,” he told Stephanie, “otherwise, there’d be far more repercussions. You do plan to compensate that family, don’t you?”

  She held the man’s business card up. “Yup.”

  “Good, because I told him you would. I also asked him for an update on how they’re doing, which they’ll give us shortly.”

  Avery and Brenden brought the shuttle down and a police craft touched down in the street outside. Another two hovered over the consulate.

  “I hope you got the data you needed,” the medic said, “because the minute we lift, those boys will go over this place with a fine-toothed comb.”

  They hauled Vishlog on board, along with a very disgruntled loadmaster and sergeant. The two men helped Frog carry several computer boxes on board and gave Lars filthy looks, which only darkened when they saw the unconscious pilot.

  “It looks like you need a lesson on Navy protocol,” the sergeant growled and Stephanie gave him her brightest smile.

  “I’ll ask the boss. This was a very last-minute op, so there might have been a few things your people forgot to tell us.”

  The loadmaster snorted. “How about not needing to be told that stealing your partner’s equipment is bad?”

  She gestured at the shuttle. “What bad? It’s all here. It’s not stolen at all.”

  He rolled his eyes and eyed the control panel that operated the hatches. Johnny pushed off the wall and moved to lounge beside it. The man took a seat beside his pilot and glanced at the medic.

  “Have you examined him, yet?”

  “He’s fine. He’ll have a bit of a headache when he wakes up but he’ll be ready to fly in a
couple of days.”

  The rest of the trip was made in silence and the boys brought the shuttle into the hangar. The loadmaster requested a back-up pilot while Marcus and the original pilot were offloaded and a medical team came on board to examine Vishlog’s shoulder.

  “It’s only a flesh wound,” the lead medic told Stephanie once the wound had been dressed. “I take it you have people who can see to the recovery?”

  She checked in with Ms E. “We have people who can see to Vishlog. Marcus will have to stay there until they clear him. I’ll negotiate it.”

  A short time later, the medic’s comm link pinged and he moved outside to answer it. When he returned, he looked happier. “Those are good people,” he told her. “Also, there’s been a change of plans. We’ll take your guy over to Washington General. You need to make room.”

  The medics left and Stephanie turned to Lars. “How long do you think it will take?”

  “I don’t know, but they’d better feed us,” Johnny quipped.

  “They’d better let us out for a toilet break,” Frog muttered and caught their looks. “I’m just sayin’...”

  They did both, explained that they’d redirected the security feed from the hangar’s cameras into a classified server, and locked the area down. It took the ship’s medical team several hours to finish with Marcus and he was unconscious when they wheeled him out.

  By then, they were back on board the shuttle and Stephanie stared at the hatch. She started when it opened again but relaxed when she saw Marcus. Avery and Brenden had resumed their seats in the cockpit, but that changed when the loadmaster returned with a Naval lieutenant. The woman strode up to the cockpit and jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

  “Out!” she snapped at Avery and turned to Brenden. “You, too.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Man, I’ll have to disinfect in here. There are too many civilian germs to poke a stick at and the stink is intolerable.”

  “Don’t you need a co?” Avery asked and she glowered at him.

  “The Navy thinks I can fly this boat on my own and I’m not about to disappoint them. Get out of my room.”

  Avery left, following Brenden. The pilot’s voice floated after them.

  “You’d better not have dented my boat.”

  “Not a scratch,” Brenden retorted and his teammate snickered.

  “Dings, nicks and multiple scratches, though.”

  “I heard that.”

  “Kidding! I’m only kidding.” Avery raised his hands and backed away from the cockpit door. “Sheesh...and I thought Navy pilots were made of sterner stuff.”

  The shuttle lifted and the lieutenant could be heard talking to control. Not long after, there was a familiar sickening drop and the shuttle pivoted. Stephanie sat beside Vishlog.

  She inspected his dressing and sighed. “How are you feeling?”

  He gave her a slight smile and placed one fist over his heart. “Good, now that you are safe.”

  “Seriously!” she snapped, and his smile widened.

  “The medics have painkillers formulated specifically for Dreth. I feel fine.” He frowned. “Although not in the way Marcus suggests. I am not freaked out or insecure, and there is no pain.”

  At the mention of Marcus, she fixed him a solemn look. “I hate it when you guys get hurt because of me.”

  “We don’t get hurt because of you.” He patted her knee. “We get hurt because bad people choose to do things that are wrong.”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t be there if you didn’t follow me.”

  “No, we would be somewhere else getting hurt, and we wouldn’t have you to look after us afterward. This is a much better option.”

  She poked him. “Just so you know, there isn’t a bonus for catching a bullet for me.”

  He laughed. “I think I’m rich enough.”

  On the other side of the shuttle, Frog turned to Johnny. “See? See? This is why you never give a Dreth painkillers. He was way less reasonable before they drugged him.”

  “Watch this,” Vishlog murmured, keeping his voice low so only Stephanie could hear him. Before she could respond, the Dreth looked at Zeekat. “Froggie has treeats.”

  The big cat snapped his head around to look at Frog, and Bumblebee’s head came up an instant later.

  “Treeats....” Vishlog told them in a sing-song voice and gestured at Frog.

  The other man looked puzzled, then worried. He began to scramble back. “No, I don—”

  Zeekat pounced and Bumblebee rose lazily from his position near Stephanie’s feet. Frog flailed and yelled as Zee pinned him under a flattened paw and began to snuffle his shirt and face. Bumblebee began at his boots.

  Vishlog began to laugh as Frog kicked and squirmed and the guys chuckled.

  “Do you mind?” the hapless man yelled when Bumblebee reached his waistline. “I don’t have any treats.”

  Lars sighed and fumbled in one of his pouches. He gave a short, sharp whistle and withdrew a plastic bag. Both cats perked their ears and bounded over to him.

  The shuttle shuddered and descended while Lars handed out the promised treats. Frog glared at Vishlog.

  “I owe you,” he muttered and the Dreth smiled.

  This time, they followed the medical team and Marcus to watch as their teammate was installed in a private suite with a security team both at the door and inside. Once he was settled, they were ushered out and given firm instructions regarding visiting hours.

  “We like our patients to have the best chance of recovery,” the doctor in charge told them. He waved his hand at the security guards. “And these guys are distraction enough.”

  “Understood,” Lars told him, hooked his arm through Stephanie’s, and steered her gently back to the shuttle.

  “I don’t like leaving him there,” she said once they were aboard.

  He looked puzzled. “He’ll be fine and I bet Ms E is already looking into the hospital’s care as we speak.”

  The shuttle lifted for the short trip to One R&D’s rooftop landing space and set down again in no time at all.

  Before any of them could say anything, the pilot spoke. “Hank! Get this rabble off my boat.”

  The shuttle jolted slightly when it touched down and the loadmaster opened the hatch. “You heard the lady.”

  Taking the hint, the guys disembarked and Stephanie and Lars left last. “Thank you,” she told them, and the loadie shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

  “Yeah,” the pilot snarked. “Please don’t mention it.”

  Stephanie led the way onto the rooftop landing pad and Lars sketched a brief and casual salute before he turned away. They paused in the stairwell to watch the shuttle lift, then went down to debrief. To their surprise, Elizabeth wasn’t there.

  “She has gone to inspect the ship and will return in a week,” Burt told them, his voice coming through the intercom. “Of course, she only left when she was assured of the success of the operation and that arrangements were made for medical care for the team. But I am here so please, enlighten me.”

  They did, with him breaking down the operation and tutting when Lars told him about hijacking the Naval shuttle.

  “You couldn’t have asked nicely?”

  The team leader shook his head. “There wasn’t time to argue. We took it and went after her before she got so far ahead, we couldn’t back her up.”

  That last statement was made with a meaningful glare at her and she rolled her eyes.

  Burt tutted again when they reached the section where she pursued the rebels through the building.

  “I take it you got their details?” he asked when she described protecting the first family.

  She blushed. “No. I didn’t have time. The rebels ran off. I got the details of the next ones, though.”

  “There were more?”

  By the time they’d finished that debriefing, Stephanie had strict instructions to scan the business card in and was told the company would handle the rest.

  “It�
�s a good thing we were working under Navy auspices, though,” he told them. “No doubt Ms E will handle it with her usual aplomb.”

  They spent the next half-hour dissecting the mission and what they had learned before Burt changed the subject.

  “Get a good night’s sleep,” he told them, “because tomorrow, you will begin intensive training to prepare you for your journey to Dreth.”

  Stephanie regarded the speaker with drop-jawed surprise, her expression mirrored around the room. “Our journey to where?”

  “Dreth,” he repeated calmly. “You’ll also be outfitted with new ceremonial uniforms and an armor upgrade—and I have researched some combat techniques specific to that world, which I believe it will benefit you to practice.”

  “Can we know what it’s about?”

  “I will brief you in the morning. Sleep well. Training will be intensive.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  In the repair yard conveniently situated beside the Navy’s Mercury shipyard, Ms E was very impressed. She had walked from stem to stern and admired the data center, the command center, and the security center. That last section was every specialist’s wet dream.

  She nodded and made appreciative sounds as the chief engineer took her through his home domain and listened as BURT made a running commentary of the specs and potentials via her HUD. He was also suitably impressed by the engineer’s qualifications.

  “I don’t know where they found him,” he told Elizabeth, “and I don’t care. That man has the best qualifications I’ve ever seen and his record... Let’s simply say he’s unique.”

  “You can show me Mr Unique’s record later,” she subvocalized and Cameron Hargreaves gave her a sharp look.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m sorry, I missed that last statement,” she lied smoothly and he blinked as if startled.

  Judging from her comments a few moments before, she had missed nothing, but who was he to argue? He gave an internal shrug and repeated the specs again.