“I’m looking for thetransporter,” John snapped, his head and hands moving visibly as he scanned thecontrols.
Daygarn stilled, watching him,his hand flexing around the handle of his weapon.
“He will most likely divert tohis own ship,” Vido continued. “Let us hope our men can pull me out in time.” He paused, eyeing John and Gillespie cautiously. “I never thought I’d risk mylife for a human.”
“Can he do that?” Gillespieasked.
“Do what?” Roppa asked.
“Identify someone in atransporter beam.”
“It’s a unique technique. Notquite perfected, but very possible.” Roppa spoke to his own ship, which hadnever been out of contact. “As soon as that disintegration shield drops, hithard and fast.”
What happened in the next minuteor so was almost incomprehensible. Vido was transported to Bismarck. In thefew seconds the shields were down, the shuttle party and a number of Skarensalso transported across.
Daygarn diverted his prisonerdirectly to his own ship, which had to reveal itself to receive. Confirmingits presence, the Skaren ship ripped its own man from the grasp of their enemyand destroyed its ship completely.
As John and the othersmaterialised on the bridge, Daygarn realised he had been double crossed. Thebridge crew reacted with the same intensity as John and Gillespie as weaponfireexchanged while Roppa’s knife skills were exemplary as he left a bounty hunterbleeding on the floor. In less than a minute, Bismarck was back in John’scapable hands.
“Report,” Roppa called over hiscommunicator.
“Brig clear,” a Skaren voiceanswered.
“Engineering…” A low sighfollowed by a couple of final shots echoed over the communicator. “Engineeringclear.”
John had a handful of the bountyhunter’s hair in one hand and a Skaren weapon shoved up under his chin, forcinghis head up and back and exposing his vulnerability. A bitter stench reachedJohn’s nostrils, causing his eyes to water.
“Tie him up,” John ordered.
The bridge wasn’t equipped withrestraints and Gillespie retrieved a couple of cable ties from the spare partscupboard near communications.
He bound the hunter’s handsbehind his back, ripping the ties tight with intent.
John lowered the weapon andstepped back. “Knees.”
Daygarn obeyed and slumped to hisknees.
“Everyone all right?” John asked,his attention never leaving his prisoner.
Giacomo was nursing a bulletwound to his hand. Hartford was unconscious on the floor and McReidy wasdabbing at a lightly bleeding nose. Gillespie moved to Hartford and checkedhis breathing and pulse, before a quick once over confirmed no major injuries.
Roppa retrieved his knife fromthe chest of the bounty hunter, wiping it clean on the dead man’s jacket beforeputting it away. “About my payment.”
“Name it.” John had no idea whatRoppa would ask or how he would provide it.
“I want him.” Roppa indicated Daygarn.
Daygarn struggled momentarilyagainst his bindings. The number of Skaren weapons pointed directly at himstilled him.
“You can’t do this,” he pleadedto John’s better nature.
“Oh, yes, I can.” There was noremorse in John’s tone. “Take him.”
“Just a minute – We can make adeal –” Daygarn began desperately, licking dry lips as the sweat began to formon his brow. His pupils widened, the look of fear revealed he knew his fate.
Roppa took encouragement fromthis knowledge. “There are a number of worlds where your methods of capturerequire justification.”
John knew he couldn’t have sealedDaygarn’s fate any more if he had killed him on the spot. “Get him off myship.”
“A pleasure doing business withyou,” Roppa concluded. He spoke briefly to his own ship and was gone.
John lowered the weapon andlooked at his crew. He couldn’t keep his attention from McReidy, clearlyapparent to everyone there. “You all right?”
“Yes,” she answered, pinching hernose to stop the bleeding.
John hit the intercom, hisattention still on McReidy. “Madison to crew. Everyone all right?”
Replies came in confirming noinjuries and he began to relax a little.
Hartford was slowly comingaround. Gillespie helped him to sit up and he groaned as he reached for theback of his head.
“Take him to sick bay,” Johnordered.
Gillespie nodded and helpedHartford to his feet.
“Giacomo?”
Giacomo looked from his hand toJohn. A bullet had grazed the fleshy side between his little finger andwrist. Blood ran down his arm and dripped into his other hand as he held itbeneath. His fingers wriggled obediently.
“Sick bay,” John told him. “McReidy.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted,releasing her nose then pinching it again a few seconds later before the nextdrip fell. “Bleeding will stop in a minute.”
“If it doesn’t, sick bay.”
She nodded and took her seat atnavigation.
John took his chair, flicking onthe ventilation system. The air would soon clear, removing all signs ofDaygarn’s presence.
He flicked the intercom. “Madison here. Mister Humphries, Mister North to the bridge. Engineering,status report.”
“Case here, sir. Everythingnormal. All repairs were finished… before…” Before what, he didn’t want tosay.
“Understood. All otherdepartments, report when you get a chance. I want to know if anyone oranything has been messed around with.” He caught Gillespie watching him. “Well?”
“I think you should go to sickbay. You took quite a pounding last night.”
McReidy turned to John, a slightfrown as though seeing his bruised face for the first time.
“A little louder. I don’t thinkthey heard you in engineering,” he snapped back. He caught McReidy’s look andshe turned away.
A few minutes later, Humphriesand North arrived, taking their relevant consoles.
“Mister Humphries, get us out ofhere.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gillespie having brought thesubject to mind, John began to realise just how much pain he was in. Breathingcomfortably was an impossibility. “McReidy.”
“Sir?”
The softness of her voice meltedthrough him. He looked up. Her eyes were filled with a warmth that hadpreviously been reserved for Sean. At least she hadn’t been hurt. No one hadbeen hurt, he corrected himself immediately. “You’re in charge.”
* * *
A trip to sick bay broughtcurious looks as much for its reality as the injuries.
Bruising covered most of John’srib cage and he jerked away from the doctor’s probing touch to his cheek. Thedamage was a few cracked ribs and a bruised cheekbone, which would mendthemselves in time. Painkillers would make life comfortable in the meantime. As long as he didn’t over exert himself.
“Yeah,” he nodded inacknowledgement of Dunlop’s instructions.
“I’m not saying it to hear thesound of my own voice.”
John glanced across at Giacomobeing stitched up and Hartford undergoing a vision test. “How are they?”
“No nerve or tendon damage toGiacomo. A couple of weeks and he’ll be as
