Capital Games (Audacity Saga Book 2)

by R. K. Thorne

  He tapped a finger casually against the pad on the wall, as if thinking. “Really, Ellen. I didn’t think you’d choose a game that was so uncivilized.”

  “I knocked, didn’t I?” Her smile was feral and edged with a threat. “Besides. Sometimes uncivilized is all that will work. And sometimes uncivilized is fun.”

  “Hmm.” He straightened, crossing one arm under his elbow and tapping his chin with the other. “Indeed it is. And I think you had better shoot me, or I’ll have to show you just how uncivilized I can be.”

  “With this?” She raised the weapon slightly, looking at it, mocking him. “Oh, it can do so much more than shoot you.”

  “Is that so.”

  “In addition to laser and ballistic, we’ve got a nice strong stun. Or perhaps I should just foam you to the wall and see how long it takes for you to crack and tell me where the information is.” A small beep came from her suit, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off him yet. It was probably registering the lack of connection.

  “I’m shaking in my boots.”

  “Maybe a stun is the way to go. So many options. Or perhaps you’d prefer attacks of a more chemical nature?”

  “I always thought we had good chemistry.” He grinned, and something about it niggled at her. He truly seemed unconcerned. “Acid, pepper, or sedative?”

  “Always a tough call, but pepper types work across the most species. You yourself seem to be hankering for the stun gun though. To start.”

  He leaned casually against the wall, and she thought he might yawn. “Your threats don’t scare me, Ellen.”

  “Don’t call me Ellen. You’re going to give me the information. I’m a fan of nonlethal methods of crowd control.”

  “Really. I’m not.”

  Hairs rose on the back of her neck, and she ducked just in time as something quick and metallic swung overhead. Twisting, she caught a glimpse of the robot’s legs behind her.

  Screw nonlethal. She thumbed the switch to lethal as she dove to the side, anticipating another swing down. She wasn’t wrong there. She was wrong in choosing her direction, which ended with her flinging herself into the legs of a second robot, this one much more android like, enough so that their collision set it toppling like it might have any man.

  She probably should have pushed him harder on his area of research. How many more droids might he have roaming around, swinging?

  She fired back in long bursts at the legs of the original droid while scrambling to get to her feet and her back to a wall. Maybe Xi had been right. Maybe backup wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

  No. She couldn’t risk bringing Kael that close to Ostrov. Beyond the agony of Ostrov’s advances—she was afraid of just what Kael might do. She needed to get the info and settle this once and for all.

  “And here I thought you would play by the rules,” she shouted over the clang of three additional droids marching into the room. She hadn’t realized the floor was truly metal. Convincing facades—that was all of Capital.

  “What gave you that impression?” He was backing behind his precious bar, and she had an urge to shoot holes in every one of his juice boxes and leave them dripping all over him. If only.

  The sustained blast took the first, heaviest robot down, its stumpy legs twitching. It wasn’t terribly deterred, though, as it started to crawl toward her with its arms as she backed into the gaming room. She needed cover, but this wasn’t ideal—the exits were the other way.

  Switching briefly to stun, she sent a quick pulse in the direction of the bar, hoping to get lucky. A bottle exploded, but she heard no screams of pain. Sadly.

  She switched back to laser and aimed for the neck of the toppled droid, who had righted itself and was running in her direction with the kind of precision and frigid single-mindedness only a droid could demonstrate. Sparks shot out as her beam cut into metal and wires, and the droid faltered, one leg going inert. But that wasn’t much of a win.

  The other three had nearly caught up with it, were nearly on top of her.

  She released the nano cloud, sending it at them. But three were too many, especially for the processing power of droids, and ultimately only one seemed actually befuddled by it. The first staggered out and reached for her throat.

  Its hand took out a chunk of the wall and the door as she shifted quickly back, keeping up the laser.

  The second came over it in a flying leap, landing on the gaming table. Shards of glass from the slick surface flew, and she had to raise her arm to keep the glass from hitting— Shit, the helmet. She’d fallen for his goading and left it down and—

  Before she could reach the button, the last android took its leap from the gaming table and launched itself at her, tackling her to the floor.

  Eyes. Its eyes were vivid blue, bright, lit unnaturally. Just like Kentt’s. But its expression…

  No time. She used every bit of her armor’s juice to push it off. A raw growl exploded from her as she strained, motors and muscles against calculated, cold-steel determination. The droid’s limbs groaned, twisting. She shoved hard, and it went flying.

  But not before she felt a sudden puff of air against her face.

  She didn’t even have time to swear. The world went blurry, then blurrier still, and her growl of rage collapsed into silence.

  At some point, Kael had drifted off to sleep again in the study. Much as he’d tried not to, the rapid healing demands of the medkit required it.

  He’d spent his time before that trying to think of a way to convince Ellen to make a deal with Ostrov. He was probably a fool, but he replayed her rejection and the speed with which she’d shut the man’s offer down in his mind a few hundred times.

  Even when half his body and other parts of him were aching, that moment had felt pretty good. Especially in hindsight, when he’d become sure he couldn’t change her mind on the matter.

  Many times in his life he’d been forced to do something he didn’t want to do. Joining the gangs, becoming a Theroki, and every brawl and mission along the way. Never had it happened because someone was concerned about him, though. Trying to protect him.

  It was certainly the treatment she’d give any member of her crew. He couldn’t imagine her risking Adan or Jenny or Zhia or any of them. Maybe Josana. But not really. He didn’t think.

  But once he awoke and discovered the medkit blinking green—meaning he was healed, basically—he knew that none of the good feelings or pride or concern on her part changed anything.

  Ostrov had the info she needed. And Kael had the power to give it to her.

  He wasn’t walking away from that.

  He pulled up the nearest holodisplay and started rooting around in their files. First, a blueprint or map of this building. Then, Jenny’s medkit.

  Then he and Ostrov were going to have a long-overdue talk.

  When Ellen awoke, she was surrounded in some kind of dark cell. Her mouth was dry and acidic from whatever had knocked her out. What a stupid mistake, and he’d been setting it up all along with his goading. She was lucky she wasn’t dead.

  Water dripped, the sound distant but at the same time loud in the near silence. The cold, humid air hung still and lifeless around her, not even a tiny draft for her to guess at the ventilation system. Was that the faint perfume of soap she smelled? Strange.

  Her armor was still on, to her surprise. Ostrov probably didn’t have the equipment to remove it. But something cuffed her wrists together to one wall. She’d awoken slumped with them raised over her head, but by turning slowly and with careful footing, she was able to stand.

  And she wanted to stand, because in addition to drip-drip-drip, there was only one other sound. She could catch an occasional slither-slip near her feet, like something wet sliding, a fish flopping over tile.

  She didn’t know what that was. Nor did she particularly want to.

  She tugged at the restraints, only gently at first, then harder. It didn’t matter. She pulled until she could feel the motors heating and smell t
he faint burning scent that was a good indicator that she should stop.

  Now why would Ostrov already have a room complete with restraints—chains, they seemed to be—powerful enough to resist the strongest tech-powered armor?

  The wall around the restraints was initially metal plate, and beyond that seemed to be actual tile. Or imitation tile, at least, because it didn’t shatter when she slammed a fist into it. The metal dented a little, but the impact she made was far from meaningful.

  Just as she was plotting her next move, a wall display burst to life to her right, flooding the room with light. She flinched, throwing up a hand to block it as her eyes adjusted. The initial afterimage blocked any details she might have picked up. Blinking blearily, she squinted at the screen.

  Ostrov, of course. Again. In the light from the screen, she could see a white sink in front of him.

  “My dear Ellen, you’re awake!” The unchanged friendliness of his tone was even more disturbing than a new deviousness would have been. “You really should have left well enough alone.”

  “It’s not my strong suit,” she muttered.

  “Sidassian will still be a great prize, but Arakovic will be indebted to me eternally now.” He grinned.

  “Arakovic doesn’t know, or care, who I am.” She thought it was the truth but was starting to fear her information was sorely out of date.

  “Then why is she offering so many credits for your capture? And even more for your preparation and education.”

  “My what?”

  “Oh, you’ll see shortly.”

  “Am I in a bathroom?” she sputtered. “Why am I in your bathroom?”

  He laughed lightly. “Would you believe it’s because it comes complete with soundproofing so no one can hear you sing in the shower?”

  “No.”

  “Because no one wonders why there’s a lock on the door?”

  She yanked viciously at the wall now, mostly out of anger. Teeth clenched, she only succeeded in knocking her own hair into her face, and she didn’t even have hands free to push it back again. She whipped her head back to try fling it out of the way as best she could. “When I get out of this—”

  “My dear Ellen, you’re not getting out of this. And you’re clearly in my bathroom because it’s the most convenient place to clean up all the blood.”

  She couldn’t contain the snarl. “Have you used this before, you asshole? Where are those girls?”

  “I don’t actually know. But I’m fairly certain they’re right where you’re going to be. With Dr. Arakovic.”

  The screen blinked out, and she was alone in the darkness.

  She jumped at the slide and squirt of something wet by her right boot. No. She wasn’t alone. Far from it.

  “Uh… are you Jennifer?” The officer eyed him dubiously, his eyes flicking to Adan’s rapidly forming five-o-clock shadow.

  “Yeah, uh… I’m scheduled for the whole reorientation shebang next week, but the legal paperwork came through early.” He did his best to bat his eyelashes, tilt his head, and grin sweetly at the old man, who snorted.

  “You look behind a few shots with that upper lip of yours, but good luck to ya,” the officer said.

  “Thanks. Yeah, the damn thing just won’t quit.”

  “My sister’s never been happier since she got hers done. Fine, head on in. I’ll get your friend for ya.”

  Adan waited nervously on the dull blue chair, shocked that that had even remotely worked. This was foolish. This was stupid. But not as stupid as carrying those chems around. And what else could he do? He couldn’t leave Jenny here to rot because he was a moron. Not after… everything.

  “I implore you once more to have backup in this mission, Adan.” Xi’s tone was dry, annoyed, if an AI could have a tone. Perhaps it was his imagination.

  “No. We bring more than one or two of us in here, we’ll end up blowing the whole place up. Especially with the Theroki on board.” He felt a twang of guilt at that stupid dig. He’d promised Kael he’d play it safe. And now look what had happened. But he was going to make it right.

  “He’s not a Theroki now any more than you are,” Xi said tightly. “And I believe you know that. I have heard him tell you several times.”

  He rolled his eyes but was too hyped up to back down. “Besides, if I royally screw this up, won’t we need people on the outside to break us both out? And someone has to be watch Persad.”

  “Those are the only remotely valid arguments you have.”

  “Always glad to have you looking out for me.”

  He checked over the program he’d created for the suit, the one loaded on the drive. The others were on chits tucked in his belt. Access codes and system master override cards. He had more than a few tools. He might die trying this but he hadn’t come unprepared.

  Finally, a different officer returned, a woman, and beckoned him to follow her back. He tried to look calm, but he had a feeling it was failing. The officer led him to a holding room and shut the door behind him.

  And there she was. A bruise darkened one eye above a freckled cheekbone, and her green eyes looked darker and blacker than he remembered ever seeing them. She stood. He wanted to snap off the cuffs glowing chartreuse around her wrists. Her feet were bare. What the hell—no shoes in Capital prisons? Or had something happened? Prison garments the color of dead fish weighed her down like blocks of cement.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Look, I need to explain.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Yeah, I do. I wasn’t there today to see Josana.”

  “Yeah, right! Who cares? What’s done is done now. Get out. Go.”

  “No, I wasn’t there for her. Not like that. I was there to stop her. She was selling—”

  “I gathered that,” she said, gesturing at the prison garb.

  He coughed. “Selling something worse. Lists of past grids.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping she’d understand from his vague words. He didn’t want to give away any more than necessary to any listening ears. “To an intelligence broker.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I deleted it all. But you should know I wasn’t there for… that.”

  “You came all the way here just to tell me that? Get out of here, A—” She stopped herself in time.

  “No, also for this.”

  He snaked an arm out, pulling her close, spinning her around, and pressing her against the conveniently located control panel as his mouth covered hers.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t deck him too hard for this.

  His body stirred at the feeling of her, the citrus scent defying their surroundings. He slid his hand around her waist and to the panel, slipping the proper chit into the slot that would load the credentials, the distraction, and the virus and resting his hand on the appropriate key. If this worked… any second now…

  She shoved him back. “You asshole. What the hell?”

  “I missed you,” he said, surprised at the roughness of his voice. There, that should play into the deception.

  “But…” she started, frowning. Searching for a way to not reveal why he should absolutely positively not be there without giving it away? “What about…”

  “I just needed a little more time.” He looked pointedly at the control panel behind her. She glanced back but kept frowning.

  “But I thought—”

  “We broke up. I’m not staying. I never was going to.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Oh.”

  He needed her to play along, at least until the virus finished its work. He buried his face in her shoulder, pressing kisses softly against the sensitive skin of her neck, her earlobe, her ear.

  She gasped and fell silent. Apparently ready to go along with his ploy, her hands strayed across the armor. Not that it revealed much.

  He risked a glance over her shoulder, then pressed his lips against her ear.

  “Three more percent, then get ready to
run,” he said as quietly as he possibly could.

  She nodded, wisps of her hair brushing his cheek. She seemed to hang on to him for dear life, not that he could feel much through the armor. The pads of her fingers were white near the nail from pressing into him.

  The door pad beeped. Her eyes widened. He pulled back from her and slammed the helmet control, letting it close over him.

  Right on target, water exploded from the ceiling, the fire-prevention system at work. Foam covered a sensitive area in the corner, and the door to their room slid open.

  He thumbed the control on his forearm and loaded the Capital armor program.

  Laughter burst out of her, and he hoped no one was watching. They shouldn’t be anyway, with the alarm. He grinned wickedly to himself, then glanced down to check his work. Excellent. The gray-green stripes of the officer uniforms flickered to life, mostly in the right places.

  He grabbed her by the cuffs as he’d seen the inspectors do and pulled her after him out into the hall.

  “Sir!” somewhat shouted from up the hall.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  “Sensors are showing fire in three locations. AI suggests the west corridor for the most efficient exit. I’m getting R team to get the other prisoners in here out.” The tone of the other man suggested that something about Adan’s disguise—or maybe just his poise or that he’d had this prisoner with him—had him outranking the young officer.

  “Good idea. I’ll take this one, she’s dangerous. Go.”

  The young man nodded and sprinted back.

  Adan pulled up the maps he’d stolen of the interior. The helmet marked his location, and he scanned it quickly. West corridor… Okay. That’s where everyone would go, where other officers would find them. He would be headed to the supposedly burning east corridor exits, where hopefully they would be entirely alone.

  Both of them silent, he jogged down one hallway, turned, and hit the next one. An armory case caught his eye, and he stopped. He tried the door but found it locked. He glowered at the latch and its analog lock, impervious to him at the moment, especially without his tools.