Ronan: Ziva Payvan Book 3 (28 page)

Ziva sighed and shifted her gaze down to the ground for a moment before turning and making her way back toward the trees. “We should go.”

“Hey.” Aroska took a couple of jogging steps to catch up, slipping his arm around her shoulder and giving her a quick squeeze as he fell into stride beside her. He felt her stiffen, but she didn’t pull away. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Thanks for bringing me up here,” she muttered. The familiar irritated tone had returned to her voice, and Aroska couldn’t help but smile again.

Both of their communicators chirped within split seconds of each other. The incoming code was Skeet’s; at this hour, a transmission from him was unnerving. They stopped moving and Ziva plucked her comm unit from her belt, leaving the call open so they could both hear. “Yeah Skeet.”

“It’s back, Z,” his voice crackled. “That ship is back. There’s a fresh emissions signature just outside Noro airspace. The thing came out of nowhere – must be employing some sort of stealth technology that allowed it to get away so easily last time.”

“Where is it now?” Aroska asked.

“We don’t have a visual,” Skeet answered. “Wait, they just found another emissions trail. If this trajectory is any indication, it’s headed straight for Salex.”

Both Ziva and Aroska broke into a steady jog. “What action is the agency taking?” she asked.

“I’m boarding a shuttle now. They’re scrambling gunships and strike teams to chase it down. We’ll make it to Salex within half an hour.”

Aroska entered Maston’s code and had his own communicator pressed to his ear even as Skeet and Ziva continued talking. It took mere seconds for his older brother to respond to the transmission.

“Look, don’t
do
anything,” he said after giving the man an abbreviated rundown of the situation. “Just go to the plaza, find somewhere to lay low. All I need you to do is watch for it and let us know what’s going on. We’ll be there as soon as we can. Do not engage with these people. Do you understand me?”

“I’m on my way,” Maston said, ending the transmission without confirming or denying.


Sheyss!
” Skeet’s voice carried through Ziva’s communicator. “Unidentified freighter, hold your fire!”

“What’s happening?” Ziva shouted, quickening her pace.

“Some nimrod pilot spotted it and is trying to take matters into his own hands. Must have seen the bulletin we sent out earlier today. I think he hit our target. Can you see anything from where you are?”

Aroska looked up at what little he could see of the sky through the trees. “Nothing,” he said.

Skeet swore again. “The Salex office is on the lookout. We’re on our way. See if you can pinpoint its destination and keep us updated.”

“Got it,” Ziva said, killing the transmission. She glanced toward Aroska as she continued moving. “You shouldn’t have contacted Maston. This could get ugly real fast.”

“He can help us,” he replied. “He’s got a stake in this, too.”

She only shook her head. There wasn’t time to argue as they reached the car and jumped inside. Aroska wrenched the controls around and sent the vehicle screaming back down the hill toward town.

-40-

Unknown Location

Haphezian Airspace

 

What do you know?

She knew a lot. Her eyes were wide open, a sensation that felt totally foreign after spending so long struggling to even pry her eyelids apart. It was still far too dark to see anything in the tiny room, but being able to feel her facial muscles working somehow made her feel more alive. The remainder of her body was still weak and moving was a chore, but the adrenaline that continued rushing through her veins kept her awake and alert.

The floor of the ship had stopped rocking not long after the children were placed in the room with her. They’d traveled along for a while, only able to feel the same subtle tilt as before, until there’d been a loud grinding sound that rattled Zinni’s very bones and the movement had stopped altogether. She didn’t remember much after that; the door had opened and several figures had entered to take the children away. She wasn’t sure if they’d sedated her with something or if she’d just fallen asleep after being overwhelmed by all the relative excitement. Either way, by the time she’d awakened again, the kids were back in the room and the floor was once again shifting ever so slightly.

She wasn’t sure what it was – her nose was still trying to recover from having anyone but herself in the room – but there was something about the children that smelled different than it had when they’d first arrived. Unless she was mistaken, it bore similarities to how the crew of the ship smelled. She dreaded to think of what had been done to the kids while they were out of the room. They were just as confused as she was, and the only thing they’d been able to tell her was that they’d been injected with something.

There were at least three of them clinging to her at the moment. Zinni had worked her way into one of the room’s corners in order to support herself better and currently had a child under each arm. She still wasn’t strong enough to actually hold them, but the physical touch seemed to bring them comfort. The other nine were gathered around her legs; some were hanging on to her, but the rest were hanging on to each other per her instructions. She had no idea what was causing the turbulence or why it had only happened for the first time just hours before, but she imagined they should all brace themselves and prepare for the worst.

“Shhh,” she said when someone whimpered. “It’ll be okay.” Her voice was still hardly more than a croak – the galaxy only knew how long it had been since she’d last spoken – but being able to communicate was at least a start.

The floor shuddered and tilted to the right before straightening out again. Zinni’s head swam and she diverted all her strength toward tightening her grip on the two children she held. Several of them shrieked and shuffled around her. None of them could see any better than she could, but at least they still had their strength. The last thing she needed was for them to be up running around when for all she knew the ship could be crashing.

“Hang on to each other,” she wheezed. Speaking, trying to track each child via sense of smell, even holding their hands – it all required more mental capacity than what she’d used in what felt like years. As long as there were things going on, the adrenaline would carry her through. But adrenaline rushes only lasted so long; she could already feel herself getting tired again and wondered what would happen to the children if she were to pass out. Not that she could do much to protect them even while she was conscious…

She hadn’t quite completed the thought when something struck the vessel. All eleven kids screamed. Zinni didn’t even need to be fully awake to realize the ship was going down.

-41-

Orchards

Outskirts of Salex, Haphez

 

“HSP is setting up in the plaza,” Ziva said, clicking out of the latest transmission. “They’re hoping to hit this thing with a dampener of some sort to keep it from taking off again. They don’t want to take lethal action if there’s a chance those kids are aboard.”

Even with her gaze directed up at the sky, she sensed Aroska turn toward her with a scowl. “You say that like you
want
them to take more drastic action.”

Had he paid attention to a word she’d just said up on the hill? “I never
want
people to get hurt, but we need to stop Ronan,” she said, unable to suppress the slight bite in her tone. “The ship has already been hit anyway. I’m not sure how much sense there is in even being optimistic at this point.”

Before he could argue, a massive object passed by overhead, mere meters above the tops of the govino trees lining the road. Fire and smoke trailed from the rear end, and it went careening out of sight somewhere off to their left.

Aroska swore and yanked the controls around, taking the car into a tight spin and maneuvering back onto a small service road they’d just passed. They could still see the ship ahead, and it appeared to be heading straight for one of the distribution centers out on the edge of the orchards.
So much for setting up in the plaza
, Ziva thought as she reestablished the transmission with the Salex HSP chief and filled him in on the developments. “We’ve still got a visual and are currently in pursuit.”

Each distribution building was identical, a square structure situated around a loading dock built into a central courtyard. The Resistance ship angled for one of those loading docks, clipping the edge of the building as it descended and sending chunks of metal and concrete flying into the night sky. Ziva had to give them credit for at least managing to crash-land in a smart location; even if their ship was damaged beyond repair, they still had a positional advantage. The design of the building offered them protection that would make it more difficult for a strike team to get the upper hand.

Aroska turned onto another small road and accelerated, cutting through the nearest orchard on a diagonal path that would get them to the distribution area in half the time. Ziva couldn’t be sure – it was hard to tell in the dark surrounded by identical trees – but she thought they were back in the area of the Tarbics’ house. It was for the best; the further away from the town and the people this all went down, the better.

She had to admit she was glad to see some action, and not just because she’d been bored and at a loss for the majority of the afternoon. The past hour or so had been one of the most uncomfortable experiences she could remember, and Aroska knew she hated talking about herself in general, much less about her feelings. Getting some of those things off her chest was rather liberating, but it felt good to get back to doing something she was good at, something she could focus on. Based on the way he’d looked at her a moment earlier, he was disgusted by the way she could turn her feelings on and off with the flip of a switch. But it was necessary in order to function, necessary in order to survive.

Floodlights around the exterior of the complex revealed a pillar of smoke billowing up from the loading docks in the center of the largest distribution building. It had been there for a good two minutes by now. “Target is down in Building Three,” Ziva relayed through the comm as they passed by several outbuildings and came within sight of the entrance. A door already stood open, and an unoccupied groundcar hovered outside with the engine still idling.


Sheyss
, that’s Maston’s car!” Aroska said, bringing their vehicle to an abrupt halt. “He must have seen the ship headed this way.”

Ziva called after him as he leaped out, but it was no use. This was exactly why she’d thought it unwise to involve Maston in the first place. Aroska had been correct in saying that he too had a stake in all of this, but that was precisely the problem. People went to insane lengths to protect their loved ones, especially when those loved ones were mere children. The thought of a civilian trying to take on any of Ronan’s soldiers was preposterous, even more so if all those soldiers turned out to be Nosti.

Going inside without backup was idiotic, but she wasn’t about to let him just rush in on his own. She jumped out and ran after him, checking her pistol as she went, and caught up to him just as he reached the open door.

As they burst through the opening, a fresh rush of adrenaline shot through Ziva’s veins and time seemed to slow to half-speed. Her body moved independently as her eyes took in all the crucial details of the surrounding space. The back-to-back cracks of projectile gunfire across the room. Multiple sets of footsteps racing by on the catwalk above them. Maston lying in a pool of his own blood. The stack of shipping containers just to her left. The surprised man running past the doorway with a large rifle.

Her mind processed each of these details and began to prioritize them as she continued moving inside.
The surprised man running past the doorway with a large rifle.
Their entrance had clearly caught him off guard, and in the time it took him to turn around and take aim, Ziva had already put a sizzling plasma bolt through his chest.

The stack of shipping containers just to the left.
She ducked to the side and dropped into a crouch behind them, taking a moment to listen and make note of any enemy activity she’d missed. Another armed man was emerging from a doorway on the far side of the loading platform that connected to the landing pad outside, and several repetitive shots from her pistol sent him diving for cover. A hail of gunfire from behind her reminded her of the steps she’d heard on the catwalk and she slipped around the corner of the shipping containers, catching a glimpse of another pair of shooters descending a steep metal staircase. They found themselves in both her and Aroska’s sights and were silenced in seconds.

The back-to-back cracks of projectile gunfire across the room.
Ziva waited for a lull in fire before darting toward the next stack of crates and taking out the man she found hiding behind it. She abandoned her half-dead pistol in favor of the assault rifle he’d been carrying and was pleased to find it fitted with a thermal scope. Peering through the space between two containers, she located the first of the two remaining hostiles. He wasn’t much more than a pale pink humanoid shape crouching behind a piece of dark gray loading equipment, but she didn’t need a clear picture of his face to know where to shoot. The moment he lifted his head to find her, the plasma bolt struck him between the eyes, sending him back to the floor behind the machine.

Unsure where the original shooter with the projectile weapon had gone, Ziva directed her attention to the final item on her list:
Maston lying in a pool of his own blood
. From her current vantage point, she could only see his legs protruding from behind a large box. But in the thirty seconds she and Aroska had been in the room, he hadn’t moved.

She began moving back toward the door through which they’d entered, keeping the rifle aimed toward the loading platform and stealing periodic glances at the body. She dropped to her knee behind her original stack of crates and listened. Aroska was nowhere to be found, but faint, raspy breathing reached her ears. Stealing a peek around the edge of the pile, she could barely make out the slight rising and falling of Maston’s chest as he struggled to breathe. He was alive, but she doubted he would remain that way for much longer.

Lowering her eye to the rifle scope, Ziva scanned the platform again, still unable to locate the shooter. Had he left the room? Or had he just retreated deeper into the forest of storage containers? Maybe he had—
wait
. She paused and shifted the scope, watching as a pink form emerged from behind a piece of loading equipment and took cover behind a thick steel pillar.
There you are
.

Before she could draw a bead on him, another door slid open and she immediately shifted her sights toward the first of the three armed men entering. But just as her finger pulled back on the trigger, a blurry bipedal shape – much closer than the others – filled the scope. Aroska. She twitched, hoping the subtle movement would be enough to throw off her aim, but the plasma bolt was already in flight. She could only watch helplessly as Tarbic dove behind the crates that had previously been blocking Maston’s body from her view, paying no attention to the hole she’d just drilled through his left bicep.

Bloody idiot!
She ducked down to avoid the spray of plasma bolts the newcomers sent her way, glad she didn’t have to look at Aroska for several seconds. Granted, the backup had taken her by surprise as well, but he knew better than to run into the middle of an open space before it had been cleared, regardless of who was down or how many hostiles there were. Gritting her teeth, Ziva rose back up and took aim for the first man she laid eyes on. Her first shot struck him in the shoulder, halting his advance, and her second sent him to the ground for good.

Aroska remained crouched behind his pile of crates, his back to the shooters and his dying brother. Ziva ignored him and resumed her journey toward the door, startled when she heard more footsteps approaching from outside. She raised the rifle, expecting the worst, but instead of more of Ronan’s men, she found herself face-to-face with an HSP entry team from the Salex office. She recognized the supervisory agent they’d spoken to in the plaza and gave him a terse nod.

“Two hostiles at fifteen meters, another at twenty,” she called as they filed in and took up cover positions.

“Headquarters wants these guys taken alive,” the agent said, indicating the stunner pistols he and his men carried.

Ziva nodded and lowered her weapon, watching from behind her pile of crates as the two side doors burst open and two more HSP teams entered. Rather than run for cover, the Resistance soldiers on the floor immediately opened fire and the one on the platform turned his gun on himself. They no doubt had orders to not let themselves be taken alive.

The shooting stopped abruptly as the two remaining hostiles were hit by stun beams. Ziva heard two weapons clatter to the floor followed by two bodies. She lifted her head and looked over the scene; Aroska was just emerging from his hiding place, and two of the Salex agents appeared to have taken minor hits, but the coast was clear.

Free to move forward at last, Ziva beckoned for the agents behind her to follow and rushed toward the platform and the massive loading door that would lead them to the downed ship. “On me!” she hollered, gesturing toward Aroska and Maston as she passed them. “And we’ve got a man down! Let’s get some help in here!”

Aside from the adrenaline rushing through her body and the anger she still held toward Aroska, Ziva was beginning to feel the onset of some other emotion…fear, unless she was mistaken. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what, if anything, they would find in this ship. Yes, it was the ship that had taken Zinni, but that had been over five weeks ago. The chances that she was even still alive, much less aboard, were next to nothing.

Flanked by four Salex agents, Ziva climbed up onto the loading platform, keeping her weapon trained on the Resistance soldier she’d shot as she passed him. There was hardly any need; her plasma bolt had burned deep into his brain, and the hole in his forehead was still smoldering. The one who had shot himself was sprawled nearby, but she didn’t give him so much as a second glance as they arrived at the loading door.

They’d killed six – well, seven – men and were taking two into custody. She wasn’t sure if a ship this size would realistically have a crew of only nine. Perhaps they were the only ones mobile enough to get out when the vessel crashed, or perhaps there were more men aboard securing prisoners. Either way, she treaded carefully as she ducked through the boarding hatch. None of the landing gear had been deployed in the crash, so the entire ship rested on ground level. That combined with the fire that engulfed most of the aft section made for rather unstable footing inside.

The Salex agents had come prepared with spotlights mounted on their rifles. With these, they swept over the walls and floor of the corridor they’d entered. Sure enough, it was a medical transport manufactured by Solea Technologies, but it appeared to have been heavily retrofitted. As she moved along with a pair of agents, Ziva found additional lab space in areas that should have been designed for patient bunks. One section they passed through looked like a legitimate infirmary, but another contained an alarming number of tables with straps and clasps that reminded her all too much of the ones they’d encountered at Dakiti. This may have been a medical transport, but its uses went far beyond that.

“The fire crew is en route,” one of the agents said, tapping his earpiece. They all paused and looked ahead to where a dead man lay sprawled on the floor at the end of the corridor. Beyond him, smoke roiled and wires sparked and snapped. The ship’s onboard fire suppression systems were doing a decent job keeping things under control, but with the shape the vessel was in, there was no telling how much longer those systems would stay online.

Ziva beckoned for them to follow her down another corridor and light her way. Faint voices could be heard elsewhere in the ship, and unless her ears were playing tricks on her, the sounds were coming from somewhere below them.

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