Space Wrangler (26 page)

A pang of guilt froze her in her tracks. Could she actually abandon them this way? Now that she knew the truth, shouldn't she stay and help?

You'll help after you get through the sinkhole. You'll go straight to the White House, or better still, to the UN, and tell them what's really going on. You'll advocate for all the platform residents. Make sure their rights are protected. Not just the right to return home whenever they want, but for doctor-patient confidentiality. And to keep their bonuses.

At that moment, she spotted the
Ace of Hearts
nestled in its space dock. Was it possible the nightmare was almost over?

Her heart sank. So many things would be over now. Her friendship with TJ. Her love affair with Rick, finished before it could really start. The chance to talk to Sensie about relays. Maybe even her search for Trent entirely.

Ahead loomed a grim reality. She would arrive Earth-side and immediately report David Seaton. The kidnapping, extortion, assault and other atrocities. She would try to keep TJ out of it, but that seemed impossible. It also seemed overly sentimental. Sure, TJ was a victim of sorts, but he could have helped her. Could have joined her and Gabby and Zeke, thwarting his father once and for all.

The authorities on Earth would have to act. Not only would they prosecute the Seatons, they'd revoke all permits and licenses, and open up bidding to select a new operator of the sinkhole and Destry. It would be a sad ending to her family's legacy, but somehow, the best of it would survive. She only hoped that when a new license was awarded, it wouldn't go to Crosse Enterprises and that abomination of a stepsister Misha Crosse.

But at least Rick will never sleep with Misha
, she reminded herself, trying to smile over their silly pact. But that memory led to others. His gallant rescue that first day. Their first shower together. Their
second
shower together. Kissing on the couch as though they had all the time in the world. Sharing secrets, daring to have fun for just one, precious night.

And then his parting line, filled with affection and hope:
When you see your brother, tell him I said hi.

“Stop it,” she ordered herself as she approached the
Ace of Hearts
. “Think about your
new
hero, Captain Angelus.”

But all she could think of was Rick. And the
Drifter
. And Sensie. Zeke's ship had a pretty sheen to it, but it was silver, not blue. And it didn't shimmer, not like Rick's. If only she had gone with him. He had invited her, hadn't he?

She might have wallowed for a bit more, but the ship's door swooshed open dramatically, so she braced herself, pasted a smile on her face, pulled off her sunglasses, and crossed the smuggler's threshold. And there he was, his grin so wide, his stance so cocky, his face so adorable, all she could think was:
Good grief, Gabby. Why didn't you warn me about this guy
?

Chapter Eighteen

The cocky captain looked her up and down as though she actually were a bio-girl, ready to give him the ride of his life. “Alexia Montoya. In the flesh.”

“Captain Angelus,” she replied, trying not to smile despite the rush of embarrassed delight. “How can I ever thank you for this?”

“Trust me, we'll think of something.” He waved his hand over a sensor and the door swooshed shut. Then he stepped closer, his hunky face alive with mischief. “Remember that holiday video of yours? I took it on a long, lonely voyage last summer. And let's just say, Christmas came early—and often—that trip.”

“Like I've never heard that one before?” She pretended to yawn. “Are you going to rescue me or not?”

He laughed. “I knew you'd be a handful. Come on. Let's get you sealed up in an ACT before I start enjoying myself too much.”

She followed him into his quarters, where he activated a small hatch in the floor. Then he jumped into a deep, narrow compartment and reached up to help her down. Charmed, she studied him for a moment, wondering what exactly to make of him. Black wavy hair, devilish brown eyes, heavy stubble across his jaw and the best smile ever. And so much younger than she had expected. Probably no more than twenty-three. Twenty-four at the most. He had accomplished a lot, all of it illegal, all of it exciting.

“Let's go,” he urged. “I won't bite. Mostly because I don't want you telling Gabby I flirted with you.”

“My lips are sealed,” she assured him, pulling off her shoes, then accepting his assistance into the compartment. There was barely room for two people, since the ACT took up most of the space, so she willingly hopped into the capsule, trusting him not to take advantage of her skimpy outfit.

He was all business as he fastened the restraints. Then he touched her injured cheek. “Who did this to you?”

“Sergeant Belker.”

“Well, he's a dead man. So don't give him another thought.” He cleared his throat. “I use a fast-acting sedative for civilians, so don't be surprised. We've got a quick trip ahead of us, so just relax and get some sleep.”

“Can you do me a favor? I mean, another one?”

“Sure, angel face. What is it?”

“You know Captain Gage, right? Of the
Drifter
?”

Zeke grinned. “Gabby told me about you and him. It explained a lot.”

“Pardon?”

He arched an eyebrow. “TJ asked me to spy on Gage. I couldn't figure out why, since he's his best wrangler and a stand-up guy. But now I get it. Gage stole his girl. Oldest story in the world, right?”

Alexia grimaced. “My relationship with Rick ended when he left for Sector Fourteen. I just want you to let him know I'm okay. Tell him not to worry about me. He can't get here in time to help anyway, but even if he could, he needs to stay far, far away from Destry. TJ already threatened to confiscate the
Drifter
as a way of punishing him.”

“Gage can take care of himself. I've seen his military history, and he's a badass. But I'll make sure he knows about the threat. So just relax and go to sleep. We've got to make tracks.”

A sob rose in her chest. “I'm so grateful, Captain.”

“Call me Zeke,” he murmured. Then he brushed his lips across her forehead, gave her a wink, and slammed the capsule shut.

“There they are, Sensie,” Rick announced as he stood on the shielded deck of the
Drifter
, his gaze trained on three of Laredo's eight moons. He had studied them through viewing scopes and in soft vids a thousand times, but seeing them with the naked eye felt literally transcendent. “They're amazing.”

“To my knowledge, no human has ever witnessed them from so close a vantage point,” his computer told him, a hint of pride in her tone.

“Yeah. I was crazy to waste so much time in the asteroid ring.”

“I believe I told you that, Captain. But you ignored me.”

He chuckled. “You're such a girl sometimes.”

“Because of your programming.”

He laughed again, wondering how many times he'd had this conversation with her. It was oddly comforting, especially because he knew it could last forever. The perfect relationship.

Cut it out
, he warned himself, but it was too late. Just like every other time when he'd thought he was over Alexia, he was reminded how completely she owned his thoughts.

“The large one appears to have peaks and ridges, Captain. Perhaps even ancient river beds. That would support your theory that it is a captured moon, perhaps originally belonging to Destry.”

“I see that too,” he said, grateful for the distraction. “No one could live out here, obviously. But maybe at one time, it was inhabited.”

“The round one would be a better candidate,” Sensie said thoughtfully. “It has an atmosphere, which would be the most important prerequisite.”

“Water is the most important prerequisite,” Rick countered, scrutinizing the captured moon more closely. This one had always fascinated him with the promise of an ancient civilization, abandoned much like the Destroyers' world, but perhaps due to natural causes. Or maybe whatever had driven the Destroyers away from Destry had been the same natural phenomenon that had stolen their moon.

Which would mean the Titans didn't rise up against them after all. And they didn't deactivate them out of fear, but out of respect.

And then where did they go? Through the sinkhole? Not a chance. So maybe through a second sinkhole as Alexia had theorized?

“Damn, you're pathetic,” he muttered out loud. “Just forget about her, would you?” Disgusted, he turned his focus away from the moon and back to Laredo, a purple-hued gas giant with innumerable rings and three huge storms that moved across its surface like angry deities.

“Captain?”

“Don't worry, Sensie. I'm not thinking about her. Or at least, not for the moment. Just let me work it through, okay?”

He expected the sentient to remain silent for a long, huffy minute before retorting. Instead, her tone was gentle but also immediate when she told him, “You have a new message, Captain Gage. Once again from Captain Angelus. And it appears that this time, it is in fact about Alexia Montoya.”

Chapter Nineteen

Alexia had barely closed her eyes—or at least, that's how it seemed—when Captain Angelus was grinning down at her again, his sexy face filled with mischief. “Rise and shine, angel face. How'd you sleep?”

“We're there already? That was fast.” She tried to straighten her outfit, but decided it was hopeless. The tube top had worked its way down to her nipples, so she'd just have to trust that her rescuer had designs on a real blonde, not a wigged one.

Once he had helped her out, he hoisted her up to his quarters, then easily followed. “Here, put this on,” he instructed, shoving a one-piece garment into her hands.

“A decon suit? Why? They let me wear my regular clothes when I transited last time.”

“You're adorable,” he drawled. “But unless you want me to dress you—”

“Okay, okay. Give me some privacy.” She smiled as he ambled into the control room. Not exactly a gentleman, but sweet in his own way. And putting his life on the line for her, so she quickly exchanged her sexy bio-girl clothes for the thin, one-piece uniform, then joined him.

He proffered a cup of hot tea. “Hydrate.”

She sipped it willingly, her gaze shifting to a large monitor.

Her knowledge of the sinkhole was fairly extensive, thanks to her father and brother. For example, she knew that the Earth-side station was akin to a heavily fortified military base, employing a thousand workers, all of whom reported to the armed forces and NASA. Their job was to protect Earth from alien invasion while also facilitating transit through the rip in space that provided bio-metal.

The D-side transit post, by contrast, consisted of a small fleet of ships: one to receive transit capsules and operate shuttles to the Sea-Mont platform, one to oversee operations, and a group of super-fast speeders that ostensibly existed as support for the military, but in reality chased down smugglers and other “rip runners”.

She had no idea how Zeke and his crew smuggled goods and stowaways through the phenomenon, but as the images on the monitor came into focus, she realized none of that mattered. Because the images were familiar in a completely different way, showing refineries and bogs and concrete living quarters, all topped with peculiar metal pineapples.

Destry?

“Where are we?” she asked, dumbfounded.

“We're almost there,” Zeke replied cheerfully. “Drink up, then slap a medi-pak on your face. It's turning purple. And try not to worry.”

“This isn't the sinkhole,” she told him with a stern glare. “What's going on?”

“The sinkhole's closed. We never had a chance of getting there before they realized you were missing and shut the place down. Lucky for you, I'm miles ahead of them.”

“By taking me to Destry?” She tried not to sound as panicked as she felt, but still, her instinct for survival reared its ugly head. “Sea-Mont
controls
this place. Am I missing something?”

“You're not missing anything, gorgeous. It's under control. Unless we're intercepted by thugs. But even then, I'm a pretty good shot.”

She covered her face with her hands, massaged her throbbing eye socket, then peeked out. “Tell me the plan.”

“It's genius. Not Montoya-style genius. Just street smarts, Angelus style.”

She glared, wondering why she had ever thought him sexy. Hot even. A consummate criminal.

Now he seemed like a kid. A twenty-something playing with fire. Playing with her life.

He seemed to sense the lapse in confidence. “You were wrong to think you could get through the sinkhole before they closed it down. They'd be stupid to leave it operational. But they can't keep it shut forever, right? They've gotta move bio-metal through it. So we just need to stash you until they give up and reopen it.”

She forced herself to see his point. The trip from the sinkhole to the platform was at least three hours. Less if an ACT was used, but still, the minute Belker found Gabby unconscious and Alexia missing, they would have slammed it shut.

“It was naïve,” she agreed, applying the freez-pak gratefully. “You're right, you have to stash me. But on Destry?”

A slow smile spread across the smuggler's face. “There are two Destrys, angel face. Theirs. And mine.”

“You have a hideout here?” She exhaled in relief. “Someplace off the radar? Where they can't find me?”

He nodded.

She stepped up to him, her smile genuine. “I shouldn't have doubted you, Captain. You're a genius, just like you said. How long will I need to hide here?”

Zeke returned the smile. “Six days at most. My computer tells me that's how long it'll take the
Drifter
to get here. Unless Gage is madly in love, in which case, make it five.”

She licked her lips, hoping that by some miracle she was still in the ACT, dreaming. That made sense, didn't it? She wanted to see Rick again. She wanted to be rescued by Rick again. So she'd dream that, even though it made no sense. Even though it was completely, utterly insane.

But Captain Angelus beamed as though everything was coming together beautifully. Then he explained, “He's the last person they'll suspect. Because he was in Sector Fourteen when you escaped.”

“He's
still
in Sector Fourteen.”

“Probably not,” Zeke said sympathetically. “I sent him a message as soon as we left the platform. And he responded right away. He's on his way here to rescue you. So listen up.”

She had no choice but to “listen up” since she was speechless. So she leaned against a polished steel wall as Zeke described her future. He would stash her with enough food, water, freez-paks and other essentials to last ten days. It might not be optimal, but she should consider it an adventure. Layers of technology would protect her from Destry's poisonous atmosphere. Zeke would even provide a chemical toilet. What more could she ask?

Meanwhile, the
Ace of Hearts
would proceed to another sector in the opposite direction of the platform, hopefully evading suspicion since everyone would assume Alexia would head for the sinkhole. So no need to worry about Zeke Angelus.

Rick would return, scoop her up, and take her to parts unknown, unexplored and unsuspected. They could have another round of “fun and games”, courtesy of Zeke. Once the sinkhole re-opened, Zeke and his crew would re-acquire her and deliver her to Earth.

“Easy as pie,” he insisted.

It didn't sound easy at all, but it was the best game in town. For her at least. Probably not for Rick.

“You warned him TJ was after him? On trumped-up trafficking charges? You told him he might lose his ship? And his onboard computer?”

“He knows all about it. He'll fly in, grab you, then fly out. Sea-Mont won't even know it happened.”

“Okay.” She silently apologized to the war-weary wrangler. “It's a good plan. I wish you had run it by me first—”

“That's not how this works, angel.
I'm
in charge. The captain of my ship, the leader of my men, the heart throb of every woman in port.
Your
job is to enjoy the ride.”

She rolled her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the pain in her cheek. Zeke—the pain in her
ass
—was infinitely worse. “Okay, Captain Ego. Just show me your super-secret hiding spot.”

When Zeke led her onto the enclosed viewing deck of the
Ace of Hearts
, his demeanor changed completely. Gone was the adorable jokester, replaced by a no-nonsense autocrat who ruled with an iron fist, leading a band of criminals who braved the sinkhole and David Seaton's wrath to run contraband and humans into dangerous realms. It made sense that they were unruly and impulsive, so they needed someone like Zeke to reward them for their daring feats while keeping them firmly in line.

“Pay attention,” he told her sternly. “Follow my rules and you'll survive. Deviate and you'll be dead of exposure—or D-side poisoning—within hours. See this?” He nudged a compact pear-shaped device made of copper-colored metal with fronds suspiciously like a pineapple's. “This is an air purifier. It removes poison and pumps out extra oxygen. It won't fail you, I promise. But just in case, you'll wear a mask and goggles at all times.”

“For six days?” She groaned. “Aren't all the buildings on Destry filtered already?”

“No. Any more bonehead questions?” Before she could reply, he continued. “It's not just the air quality, it's the temperature. Destry's always hot by day, but it's even worse this year. Luckily, your decon suit is insulated, so it should be fine. But if you start overheating, pour a bottle of water over the fabric till it's soaked. That should do the trick.”

“Okay.”

“At night, it's bitter cold, but the suit can handle that too. There's a thermal blanket if you need it. And the bedroll will help too. Just stay in the middle of the room. Do
not
lean against the walls. They'll be hot by day, cold by night. So just hang in the center. Use the light as much as you want during the day, but turn it off when the sun starts to set. It'll be pitch dark, but you can't risk having someone spot the glow.”

“What kind of building are you abandoning me in?” she complained, only half teasing. “No air, no heat, no filter, no lights?” When he eyed her with disapproval, she smiled. “If it's dark in the room, how will I know the sun is setting?”

“You'll know by the temperature.” He exhaled in a huff. “That's basically it. You've got dozens of salmon-and-spinach bars to keep your strength up, but the key is water. Drink at least five bottles a day, preferably six. Use another one or two for hydrating your suit, and some for washing up morning and night. Each of these three cartons has twenty-five bottles so you won't run out.”

“What if Rick doesn't get here in six days? Or even ten days?”

“We'll get to that.” His confident brown eyes held her gaze. “Here's your routine. You'll wake up, use the chem toilet, take off your mask and goggles and wash up. Get your hands and face clean. Apply a new layer of ointment, then gear up again. You'll eat, you'll hydrate, you'll stay away from the walls, you'll survive. When it starts to cool down, you'll eat, wash up, put your mask and goggles back on, curl up in the middle of the room on the bedroll and go to sleep. Don't exert yourself. Don't worry. He'll be here before you know it.”

“And if he's not?”

Zeke reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny red bauble like the one Gabby wore around her neck. “If he's not here within eight days—”

“
Eight?
”

“Or if something goes
really
wrong, squeeze this one time. Someone from my crew will show up.”

She grimaced. “Why didn't we just use your crew in the first place? Why involve Rick? I mean, I'm grateful for your help, but he's so far away. And frankly we said goodbye on the platform for a reason.”

Zeke shrugged. “The Seatons will be watching me and my crew like hawks. So I couldn't risk it. We need to stay clear of the platform and Destry, but I'll make sure someone is within range at all times. The signal dies out after 100,000 miles or so, unfortunately. But we'll make sure it's covered.”

The thought of so many people putting themselves in jeopardy bothered her, especially now that she'd seen the vengeful face of the Seatons. “I don't want any of your men getting arrested. Or you either.
Or
Rick. It's such a mess.”

“They won't be watching Gage. They know he was beyond the asteroid ring when you escaped. That's the beauty of this plan,” he added, his playful tone returning. “So start appreciating it.”

“I do. I promise.”

“How many bottles of water will you use per day?”

“I'll drink five or six, wash with one morning and night, and soak my suit when it gets too hot.”

“And when will you wear your mask and goggles?”

“All the time, except when I'm washing up.”

“And?”

“And stay away from the walls, use the ointment, and keep the light off at night.”

“Good girl.” He grinned. “He'll be here before you know it. I'll be stuck all alone, with just your video to keep me entertained, while he's enjoying the real thing.” Stepping closer, he added sincerely, “I wouldn't trust your life with anyone but Gage. You know that, don't you?”

“I'm not worried,” she told him, matching his solemn tone. Then she returned her attention to the monitor. “I can't wait to see this mysterious hiding place of yours. Everyone—even Rick—thinks there's nothing out here but Titans and bogs.”

“He's in for a surprise, that's for sure,” Zeke said with a chuckle. “Put that gear on now, angel. Time you got acquainted with your new home.”

When the shield of his ACT popped open, Rick literally leapt to the floor, still furious despite ten hours in fusion space. “He hid her in a fucking
Titan leg
? I'll
kill
him.”

It boggled his mind. The Titans—the biggest mystery on either side of the sinkhole. The ultimate unknown. Were they malevolent? Ready to strike? Dutiful servants, ready to serve again one day? Or just vague remnants of a civilization Earth scientists could never hope to understand?

It didn't effing matter. Whatever they were, it wasn't a fit hiding place for a human female, much less a cultural icon like Alexia Montoya.

“He had no choice, Captain,” Sensie reminded him. “And it is fortuitous that Captain Angelus discovered the hidden compartment last year.”

“In a fucking Titan,” Rick repeated, furious. “Why not just jettison her into open space? Wouldn't that be simpler?” Striding to the command console, he waited for Sensie to serve him something quick, liquid and nutritious.

That was her job, wasn't it? Not arguing with him. Especially when he was right.