Viktor squeezed off several blasts toward that man. He wasn’t the only one firing—all of the security personnel were alternately shooting and pushing their movable barrier closer to the ramp—but he had a different angle. One of his shots bounced off, but the second two breezed past the mafia men’s invisible force field, identifying the edge.
“I’m going to get closer,” Viktor said. “If I stay by the wall, I can find an angle to hit them around their force field.”
Ankari gripped his forearm. “Or you can get yourself shot.”
“Stop them at all costs,” came a shout over one of the security men’s comms.
“Detain the criminals in the rear,” someone ordered. “We don’t want them at our backs.”
“Uh oh,” Ankari said. “Is that us?”
How could those people not have figured out that Viktor was helping?
Two late-comers jogged out of the corridor. The security officers must have been warned that Ankari and Viktor were behind the crate, because their rifles turned toward them as soon as they came into sight. Ankari found herself staring into the muzzle of a deadly weapon, and her mind went utterly blank. It was so close that her eyes crossed to focus on it.
Viktor did not hesitate. He flattened Ankari to the wall at the same time as he kicked, sweeping with his leg. Even from the awkward position, he managed enough power to knock one man to the side, so that he tumbled against his comrade. The rifle fired and Ankari squinted her eyes shut—it hadn’t belonged to the officer Viktor had kicked, and she was certain the beam would blast into her head. But Viktor’s hands moved almost as quickly as laser fire, and he had knocked the weapon upward as the man fired. He lunged to his feet and tore the rifle out of the officer’s grip. By the time Ankari stood up, realizing she needed to be helping instead of cowering, Viktor had already downed the two men.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the corridor, but at the same time, another explosive went off nearby. The deck rocked again, and men screamed. The security officers’ portable barrier had taken the full force of the grenade, and even though it had not exploded, it had been flung back, tumbling onto the men hunkering behind it. A second boom followed the first, with so much smoke filling the air that Ankari could not tell what had been struck.
Two more security officers raced out of the corridor. This time, Ankari was ready. She wasn’t even sure if they meant to attack her, but she would not be startled into stillness a second time.
She let the first one pass, trusting Viktor to handle him, and slammed her elbow into the gut of the second, throwing all of her weight behind the attack. Her joint met honed muscle instead of soft layers of fat, but even so, he grunted in a great expelling of breath. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stun him. He recovered, whipping his rifle toward her. Anticipating the attack, she had jumped back as soon as she finished her blow, and she had space for a straight kick. The toe of her boot caught the rifle squarely, and it flew from his grip. He jerked back for an instant, but then growled and lunged for her, pulling his fist back for a punch. She swept her arm up in a block, but his fist never reached her. Viktor had already finished his man, and he grabbed this one by the scruff of the neck. His elbow slammed into her attacker’s kidney, and he dropped, gasping in pain.
“Hull breach,” came a computerized voice over the bay’s speakers. “Warning. There has been a hull breach. All personnel are ordered to leave Docking Bay Three immediately. The doors will be closed for containment in forty-five seconds.”
“Happy to leave right now,” Ankari said, stepping over the fallen men and angling for the corridor.
She scarcely had time to register the four men sprinting at her before Viktor grabbed her and pulled her to the side. At the same time as she was flattened against his chest, orange laser beams sizzled out of the corridor.
“Why are they shooting at
us
?” Ankari growled, too frustrated to thank him for saving her—again. She gripped her pistol, almost lunging from his arms to shoot at the oncoming security officers, but if she killed one of them, there was no way she would get her name cleared. Whether she would even be able to leave the station alive would be questionable.
Viktor’s arm tightened around her, as if he knew what she had been thinking. He pulled her away from the firefight and away from the corridor, heading toward the quiet end of the docking bay. Even down there, smoke clouded the air. He tugged her into the thick of it, and it stung her eyes and nose.
Two men appeared in the mouth of the corridor, pausing there and sweeping the area with their rifles. Viktor halted, and Ankari gulped, aware of how vulnerable they were out in the open. The smoke obscured everything, but would that be enough?
One officer’s weapon lurched toward the other end of the bay, where the last of the mafia men leaving the ship were racing toward the hatch. The other officer jerked his rifle toward Ankari and Viktor’s end of the bay. She tensed, ready to spring aside, certain he was aiming at them. But the smoke must have been helping to camouflage them. Someone crawling along the floor near the wall was what had drawn the officer’s eye.
The woman jerked a hand up, cringing. “Please, I’m just trying to get out.”
The guard shifted his rifle toward the floor. “Civilians clearing out,” he called back.
“The doors will be closed for containment in twenty seconds,” came the indifferent update from the speakers.
“Viktor,” Ankari whispered in warning, even though he must feel the urgency as greatly as she. If they were caught in here when the doors came down, they not only risked being trapped, but some hairline crack in the hull might be about to rupture, exposing the interior to the deadly vacuum of space.
“This way,” Viktor whispered and led her deeper into the smoke.
A cold draft brushed Ankari’s cheek. Her stomach dropped into her boots. She could not know if they had passed some vent, or if that was the feel of their air being sucked out of the bay, but she couldn’t help but be certain it was the latter.
Shadows moved in the smoke ahead of them. Ankari thought they were almost to the wall and hoped Viktor was leading them to a hatch similar to the one the combatants had escaped through on the other side. A clang sounded in the corner, and her stomach did a few more gymnastics. Had someone locked the very hatch she had been hoping to find?
“The doors will be closed for containment in ten seconds.”
Ankari was about to sprint for the corner, to check that hatch—if it wasn’t open, she didn’t think they could make it back to the corridor in time—but Viktor launched into motion ahead of her.
He grabbed one of the figures jogging through the smoke, even as he kicked out at a second, knocking a man in dark clothing to the deck. Confused, Ankari almost stepped on the person. What was Viktor doing? Those people had been running toward a ship, not toward the exit.
“Get off me you idiot,” someone snarled. The voice was somewhat familiar but Ankari could not identify it.
“Hurry,” the second man said, rolling away from Viktor. “It’s our chance to get back on the ship.” The man jumped up and ran, leaving his buddy.
“Was that you who left the graffiti?” Viktor growled at the man on his knees in front of him. “You touch my shuttle, my ship, or any of my people again, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
In the thick smoke, it was hard to tell, but he appeared to have his hands around the person’s throat.
“Five seconds,” the speaker announced.
Ankari had no idea what Viktor was doing, or why he was worrying about this now, but she raced toward the corner, toward where that hatch had
better
be. If she reached it, she could hold it open for him.
But he was right behind her. She came out of the smoke enough to see the hatch, and she gasped with relief when she saw it open. Viktor touched his hand to the small of her back, guiding her through the opening. As if she needed encouragement. She ducked and flung herself through, not caring that she stumbled and dropped to the floor. She needed the support of the floor at that moment.
“All exits are sealing,” the speaker announced, the voice sounding quieter now that Ankari was not in the bay. “Containment will commence.”
Ankari spun back to make sure Viktor had made it through. Yes, he knelt in front of the hatch, pulling it shut and spinning a wheel to secure it. These definitely were not the regular station doors. Only when a thud of a large lock being thrown sounded did Ankari relax enough to peer around the tight passage they had entered.
A tunnel with rounded walls stretched inward. The lights in here were flashing red, too, and she could not see far, but she made out the hint of an intersection up ahead. Ladder rungs ran along the walls, suggesting that what was sideways now had been up at one point, or maybe they were there in case gravity went out. A person could pull herself along with the rungs.
Viktor slumped against the wall beside her. Sweat gleamed on his forehead in the crimson light. Maybe he had been more alarmed by that escape than he had shown. He grunted and lifted an arm. Since this grunt was much more inviting than any of the earlier ones had been, Ankari settled against his side. Nobody should be opening that hatch anytime soon, and Security ought to find a modicum of competence at some point and realize that the
real
threat had escaped in the other direction. Maybe all that smoke had obscured whatever cameras were installed in the bay, hiding Viktor and Ankari’s flight here. She hoped so. She also hoped that some footage somewhere would show that they hadn’t had anything to do with the explosives or the people and androids being shot out there.
“You never stop thinking do you?” Viktor asked, and she wondered what expression she had been wearing as her mind churned. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
She slid her arm across his abdomen, pleased by the warmth in his eyes. He had seemed distant since the jailbreak, or at least she’d had the feeling that he did not approve of her plan.
“Only during sex,” Ankari said, leaning her chest against his side and relishing the strong arm around her, “when someone’s distracting my mind with all that delightful kissing and touching.”
“Someone? Anyone will do?”
“No, not anyone. Only sexy mercenary captains will do for me now.” She kissed him gently, then she rested her hand on the side of his face and gazed into his eyes, silently asking if they were all right. That morning—had it truly only been that morning?—they hadn’t parted on the best terms.
“So long as that Sherkov doesn’t count,” Viktor murmured, lowering his other hand to her waist and rubbing her through her shirt.
“Who?”
His head tilted to the side. “You didn’t see him running to get onto his ship before the section was sealed off?”
“I saw you pummel someone, but in the smoke, I couldn’t tell who. It was very confusing when I was trying to escape and you were threatening people.”
“We had plenty of time.”
“Sure, we made it through that hatchway with all of point two seconds to spare.”
“I’m sure it was at least point four.”
Ankari rested her head on his shoulder. There were a hundred things they should be doing—including figuring out why the mafia men had been charging onto the station, fully armed—but after nearly being caught in that bay, she needed a moment to recover. She wondered if, on the other side of the hatch, that area was even now being exposed to the vacuum of space. When everything was working well, one tended to forget about the perils of interplanetary travel or residing on a station.
“What proposition would you have made?” Viktor asked.
“Hm? Where?”
“To the mafia to be invited onto their freighter.”
“I was going to tell them that my current landlord was kicking me out and that my profitable business would be willing to pay them a small percentage for transportation and protection. It was just a ruse, of course. I have higher standards as to who I let protect me.”
Ankari thought he might smile, but he sighed instead and rested his jaw atop her head.
“Ankari, I’m not kicking you out. I just worry that the ship isn’t the ideal environment for what you and your people are doing. And I’ve realized, as your mother was doubtlessly pointing out when you closed the door, that I’m not a good choice for you.”
She frowned, though she was staring at his neck, so he wouldn’t be able to see it. She should have shut the door earlier in that call. “I see my mother twice a year, Viktor.” Less, lately. “I love my family, but they can keep their opinions to themselves.
You’re
the one who matters, and you’re delusional if you don’t think you’re a good choice. It doesn’t matter what my mother thinks.”
“I don’t want to be the source of strife between you. Parents do matter. Sometimes it takes losing them to realize how much.”
He spoke softly, and she knew he was thinking of his homeland and all that he had lost. He wasn’t wrong, but damn it, she wasn’t wrong, either.
“Viktor.” Ankari leaned back so she could look him in the eyes again. “My mom isn’t going to disown me or stop talking to me because I’m seeing a mercenary. You’re not causing strife. Not any more strife than we usually have. Did you know that she totally disapproved of this latest business venture? Now she’s forgotten all about that, because you came along. Next week, I’ll do something new that she doesn’t approve of, and she’ll forget about you. This is how relationships work in my family.”
His return gaze wasn’t obstinate or mulish, but he didn’t smile or agree, as she wished he would. She hoped he wasn’t thinking he would have to bonk her over the top of the head with a mallet and leave her on the space station “for her own good” when the
Albatross
was ready to depart.
“I think if Mom met you, she would like you. People have these preconceived notions about mercenaries. You’re probably aware of this.”
“I’ve heard of such things,” he said dryly.
“Maybe someday, you could consider taking a break from work, and we could go visit my family. Granted, that’s probably not what men dream about when planning vacations.”