Taking the lead, Angel walked to a secluded table off to one side. From here, she could keep an eye on the entire room, and the entrance. It wasn’t that she anticipated trouble, but old habits die hard.
The other ship’s crew had already taken over a group of tables across the room and service “bots” were delivering their drinks. A group of women in skin-tight, low-cut jumpsuits emerged from a side door and wandered over to the crew. Angel watched in fascination as a few of the women left the gathering to sit by themselves on stools in front of the bar, leaving only the younger, more nubile women to associate with the increasingly rowdy men. Sex droids, Angel concluded. She’d been around enough bars and saloons to know that after years of professional service, only sex droids could look that young and “full of life.”
“Interesting,” Nicoli commented, noting the direction of her gaze.
“You find the sex droids interesting?” She didn’t like the sharp edge that accompanied her tone. It was none of her business if he enjoyed the sight, or company, of a sex droid.
He frowned. “What I find interesting is that only the sex droids remained. Makes one wonder if the men prefer droids over real women or whether the real women prefer not to service those particular men.”
“It’s late. Maybe they’re tired.”
“Yeah, tired of getting beat up.”
Angel studied the group of rowdies. “Maybe the men prefer the droids.”
“I doubt it. These men get off on power and control and it’s hard to dominate someone who bounces back from your worst beating looking good as new.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
He met her gaze, his brow furrowed. “I speak from observation.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who hangs out a lot in these types of places.”
“You don’t think so?” He gave her a dark, self-depreciating smile. What demons was he hiding from her?
Rather than answer him, Angel activated the menu and studied the holographic list of choices that materialized above their table. Her stomach was a little upset, nervous about the prospect of leaving, she guessed. But she had no idea when her next meal would come and she knew better than to not eat. She made her selection and then patiently waited until Nicoli made his before deactivating the menu.
When their drinks came via a 'bot, Nicoli raised his glass and offered a toast. “To another day.”
Angel touched her glass to his in silence and drank, pondering the meaning behind the toast. Was his toast from a soldier’s perspective or a lover’s? Her insides were tangling in knots trying to figure him out. Hell, she couldn’t even figure herself out.
“Am I under arrest?” The silence that greeted her words lingered for so long, she finally looked up to see if he’d even heard.
His expression was unreadable. “No. Why do you ask?”
“You’re a Colonel with the Security Forces. It’s within your authority to arrest me and keep me with you against my will, so I just want to know where we stand, that’s all.”
“No. You’re free to do as you please.” Nicoli looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he pressed his lips together and they fell into an awkward silence. When their food arrived, they ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Angel,” Nicoli finally said when they were both nearly done with their meals. “I want you to know that I'm here for you – any time. You don't have to fight your battles alone ever again.”
She lifted her head, chin up and met his probing look. “Thanks, but I can take care of myself.” She laid her fork down and slid out of the chair before he could see the moisture in her eyes. No one had ever offered to protect her before. “I’m going to get another drink. You want one?”
“Angel, I--”
“How about a nice Martian ale? Or a Nova Zinger?” She didn’t wait for him to choose, but turned and walked to the bar. She needed a chance to collect herself.
“Two Martian ales,” Angel told the bartender. She watched him pour the drinks. “Place seems a little quiet tonight. Thought you’d have more ships at dock.”
“That’ll be fifty credits.”
Angel had retrieved her money from the closet earlier and now pulled it out. With deliberate movements, she placed one hundred credits on the counter. Before the bartender could pick it up, however, she laid her hand on top of it. “I need a ride out of here. Tonight.”
He narrowed his eyes and studied her, no doubt deciding whether or not she was serious. Or worth the effort. “It’ll cost you.”
She took another hundred credits and added it to the pile. “I’d be grateful.”
For a brief moment, they stared, each sizing up the other. Over the years, Angel had perfected her straight on, you-don’t-want-to-mess-with-me look. She didn’t have to wait long before the bartender nodded.
“There’s a ship leaving in an hour, docking station Alpha-Nine.”
Angel threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the group of rowdies. “That ship belong to them?”
“No. You don’t want to go with them. This is an old trading vessel. Take it and you might have half a chance of leaving here alive.”
Good enough for her. “Thanks.” She removed her hand, picked up the drinks and carried them back to the table.
“We need to talk.” Nicoli said after she sat down.
“About what?”
“About what happened earlier today.”
So much had happened earlier that day. Nicoli’s discovery that she was Michels, the episode in the airshaft, making love. Not love, she quickly amended. They’d had sex. That’s all it had been. There was nothing to talk about. “I have to go.”
“Where?” Concern etched his features.
“The D-U. I’ll be back.” Her gaze caressed his face, even as the lie fell from her lips, ripping at her heart. She couldn’t let him stop her.
His gaze roamed over her and she had the distinct impression he was memorizing her features. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” His velvety voice held a note of sadness. Already she missed him. How long would it take to forget him? Would she ever?
She stood to go, but his restraining hand stopped her before she could leave. “Be careful.”
She cocked her head to one side and faked a smile. “I’m only going to the D-U.”
“Yeah, I know.” His voice sounded emotionless.
She picked up her unfinished drink, downed the rest of its contents in a single swallow and set the glass back solidly on the table. With a last look, she turned and walked away. “Take care of yourself, Nicoli,” she whispered to herself, and almost didn’t hear Nicoli’s softly spoken parting words.
“Good bye, Angel.”
Knowing he watched her, Angel ducked into the D-U for females. She’d wait here a few minutes, then sneak into the kitchen and take the back exit. Outside, the sound of raucous behavior grew louder. That other ship’s crew had downed enough alcohol to float a free-trader. Angel decided to use the facilities while she waited and went into one of the stalls. The sound of the outer door opening was followed by several female voices.
“I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate those jerks,” the first woman said.
“Wish they’d reconsider the sex droids. I’ve been with these guys before, they like it rough."
“Did you see the one across the room, sitting by himself? He’s a looker.” A third voice spoke up.
“Yeah, for all the good it’ll do him.” It was the first woman again.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you hear Mason’s crew talking? He’s some kind of Colonel with the USP security forces?”
“How do they know that?”
“They’ve run into him before.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, well, it’s good news for us.”
“How so?” The third woman asked.
“Because tonight instead of beating on us for their jollies, they’re going to beat the you-know-what out of the colonel.”
The women kept talking as they used the facilities, but Angel had stopped listening. Nicoli was in trouble. When she heard the other women leave, she left her stall. Absently, she shoved her hands under the Supercleanze mist, then shook them dry. Opening the bathroom door, she looked out. Nicoli still sat at the table, but his attention seemed to be focused on the glass he held, oblivious to any danger.
Mason’s crew, on the other hand, seemed wound to a fevered pitch. Twelve of them, at least. There was no way Nicoli could take all of them. Angel looked at her watch. If she stayed to help Nicoli, she’d miss her only shot off the space station.
Angel slipped out of the D-U and walked away.
Nicoli watched Angel slip into the kitchen. A part of him wanted her to stay, but that would have been a mistake. She was a distraction he didn’t need, an emotional entanglement that could prove too dangerous. Taking a deep sigh, he raised his glass and downed the contents.
He looked at his watch. The repairs on the ship should be complete. He tossed some credits onto the table and stood. There was nothing to keep him here now.
Leaving Flannigan’s, the corridors seemed especially bleak as he walked them alone. Absorbed in his thoughts of Angel, he almost didn’t hear the man behind him until too late. He turned just in time to keep the knife blade from piercing his back, and drove himself into his attacker.
The man was no match for Nicoli’s strength and experience, and Nicoli soon dispatched him. Then he turned and found himself facing the rest of the crew that had been sitting in Flannigan’s.
“If you want money, I’ll give it to you,” Nicoli said, realizing the futility of trying to fight all of them.
“It’s not about money, Colonel Romanof,” one of them spoke. “This is strictly personal.”
Well damn
.
He was in for the long haul. “Then let's do this. I don't have all night.”
His cavalier attitude riled the other men, as it was intended to do. An emotional fighter was a careless fighter and Nicoli needed all the advantage he could get.
Before the next man could advance on him, Nicoli bent to retrieve the unconscious man’s knife. His opponents seemed content approaching him one-on-one, or perhaps it was that they were too drunk to consider rushing him. He met the first man without hesitation, killing him. The second and third men he merely knocked unconscious. Each fight cost Nicoli energy and strength and, belatedly, he realized this had been their strategy.
When the fourth man fell, the remaining crew members moved forward. Resigned to his own death, he vowed to take as many with him as he could, but before they reached him, two of the front men screamed and fell to the floor, dead. The others hesitated as wisps of smoke curled up from the bodies.
“And you thought
I
was trouble,” Angel said, stepping forward to join him, her gaze never leaving the remaining men.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he growled, worried about how he could keep her safe when they were so outnumbered.
“Hi Angel, I’m glad you came back.” Her voice dripped sarcasm. “Or how about, thanks Angel, for saving my life. Again.”
“I’m not sure either of us will live through this,” he retorted. “At least before, I knew you were safe.”
At that moment, their attackers rushed forward, weapons drawn, fists flying. Angel fired, but couldn’t hit all of them.
Dispatching the man closest to him, Nicoli turned. One attacker, his hand clinched around something, had slipped behind them and now stood too close to Angel, who was busy with two other attackers. As the nearly transparent blade of the crystal knife arced through the air, Nicoli leaped forward.
The blade pierced his side, slowing him temporarily. As the attacker looked on, Nicoli pulled out the blade and thrust it into the man’s stomach, ripping upward as hard as he could. The man would not live to fight again.
Angel, having broken free of her two attackers, fired into the crowd. Two more fell dead while the other stumbled backward. Nicoli felt the first wave of nausea wash over him and knew he was losing too much blood. He had to get Angel to safety before he passed out.
“Let’s go,” he said, clapping a hand to his side. Together, he and Angel backed up.
“You’re hurt,” she observed, glancing at him. He knew he was covered in blood, but didn’t want to alarm her.
“It’s not serious,” he lied.
For every step back they took, their attackers moved forward. Yet, there was enough distance between them that as soon as he and Angel reached an intersecting corridor, they rounded the corner and ran.
The effort it took to maintain their pace quickly drained Nicoli of his remaining strength and his footsteps grew erratic. Darkness closed in around his vision, causing him to stumble. Angel grabbed his arm and draped it across her shoulders, holding it in place by taking hold of his hand. She holstered her laser, then wrapped the other arm about his waist, unaware that she grabbed his wounded side, sending pain lancing through him.