“First, yes, I slept through Intro to Ship Maintenance because it was boring. Second, how the hell are we supposed to get on the ship if those assholes changed the security codes?”
He waggles the handheld at me. “Which is why I’m trying to hack my way in through the backdoor of Betty’s systems. So far, they’ve done a damn good job of blocking all paths to bypassing the encryption for system access authentication to even get to the backdoor.”
Outside the barn, the wind howls.
My stomach rumbles and a few seconds later, so does Nico’s; neither of us have eaten all day. Before I can ask about the plan to scrounge up our next meal, the wood doors on both ends of the barn fling open.
Figures in winter camouflage uniforms and masks swarm through the entrances.
I hear clicks; the sound of weapons with silencers.
I dive at the bag where we stashed the phasers, but there’s a penetrating sting as whatever they’re firing hits my ass.
Tranquilizer darts.
I stumble, reach behind me in a failed attempt to pull the damn thing out.
Nico lies sprawled on the ground, a tranq dart lodged in his shoulder.
Legs numb.
Head swims.
Nothingness swallows me whole.
Chapter 27
Consciousness rises up through the murky gray. There’s vague awareness of warm air blowing on my face.
Purple splotches swell over the dark background of my still closed eyes as light soaks through the skin. I watch the shifting patterns with detached curiosity as they flow and ebb in fluid patterns.
Several things hit me at once: A dull ache fills my head and works its way down my body. My eyelids feel heavy, weighted; it takes effort to force open them. When I finally do, everything is hazy, like someone smeared an opaque glaze over my corneas while I slept.
I force my eyes to focus. A ventilation duct sits above me. I’m lying on a cot in a corner of a cargo bay. To my right, a row of costume racks stretches down the wall.
I’m on our ship.
Groaning, I push myself to sitting position. Footsteps echo above me, then there’s the ping of boots on metal rungs as someone descends the ladder at the other end of the room.
With not much time to find a place hide, I bolt out of the bed and within three steps run smack into an invisible wall. The aborted inertia throws me backward onto the floor.
Commander Jackson Carter strides toward me, flanked by four armed guards.
“Merde,” I sigh, not caring that I’m still sprawled on the floor.
“Good. You’re awake,” he says, as he stops a few inches from the force field. “I was hoping the tranquilizer wasn’t too strong. We had to base the dosage on your recorded body weight at your last physical. But that was six months ago, so who knows if that’s still accurate.”
“Where’s Nico?”
He gestures at the transparent space between him and me. “I regret that the dramatics at the barn were necessary, and the temporary restraints.” He grabs a metal chair propped up against a nearby wall and turns it around so he can straddle it while resting his forearms on top of the chair back. “With our previous history, I didn’t think you’d agree to meet for tea.”
The four men stand in a line behind him and I wonder which one of them fired the dart that got me. Figuring that I’m stuck in this makeshift jail cell unless I can talk Carter into releasing me, I crawl back onto the bed.
“You couldn’t have used phasers?” I say. “Tranq darts are so old school.”
“As imprecise as tranquilizers are, there were locals in the area. Strange flashing lights inside the barn might have attracted the attention.”
“Where’s Nico?” I ask.
“We talk first. Then we’ll discuss Commander Garcia.”
“I’m not gonna talk to you about anything until I know Nico’s okay.”
“Garcia is fine. He woke up thirty minutes ago.”
“You’ll understand if I don’t take your word for it.”
“Dodger, you wound me,” he says with a smirk.
I’m not sure which annoys me more: his tone of feigned outrage or his use of my nickname. I scoot backward and sit cross-legged against the wall and wait.
He contemplates me for a moment, then groans with reluctance. “Computer, enable audio channels so we can speak to Commander Garcia.”
“Screw you,” Betty replies. The juxtaposition between the snark and her synthesized voice makes me chuckle. “You hurt Commander Garcia. I do not like you.”
“Your computer has an attitude,” Carter says, sounding irritated. “She’s been fighting me since I boarded the ship.”
“She hates assholes.” I give him an eat-shit-and-die look. “Betty, please enable audio channel access. I want to talk to Nico.”
There’s a pause before she answers. “I will connect you for thirty seconds. The commander needs his rest.”
“Thanks, Betty,” I reply. “Nico, are you there?”
“Dodger!” Nico says, relieved. “You okay?”
“Little sore. Got a massive headache, but no major damage. You?”
“Same.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m confined to quarters.”
I glare at him. “I’m not. They stuck me in a corner of the cargo hold behind a restraining force field.”
“You’re okay. That’s what matters.”
“Yeah. You, too.”
Carter makes a slashing motion across his throat and one of his goons taps a control pad.
“Nico?” I say.
Silence.
“I’ve muted the speakers, so even if your ship’s computer left the channel open, you won’t hear anything else he says. I’ve proven Commander Garcia is fine. Let’s talk,” Carter says.
“You must be terrified of me.”
He chuckles. “How d’you figure that?”
“Do you need that much help to subdue one tiny thief inside
