Chapter 2
“I don’t like this,” Arak announced.
Jaron strapped on his protective vest over his black uniform shirt. He glanced up at his team mate. “What’s not to like? We went over this several times and everyone was in agreement. I’m going to lay in wait on the hill overlooking the empty airstrip where Lothar is due to arrive shortly.”
Geile and Gregir sat next to one another on the shuttle, weapons gripped tightly in their hands. Geile snorted. “Torkel didn’t say for us to leave the designated drop zone.”
Jaron sighed and stood, stomping his feet to rid them of nervous energy. “Yes, but we didn’t know it was further than the strip. I’ll scout ahead and comm as soon as Lothar arrives. If he arrives.”
Because more and more Jaron believed odds were in favor of this being a complete waste of time and energy.
“I’m the better shot. I should go.” Gregir hunched over in his seat, fondling his sniper laser.
“I’m faster and have an A rating in stealth. We’re not deviating from the plan.” For as long as he’d been Team Leader, Jaron never heard the others complain this much about the parameters of an assignment before anything happened.
Glancing around, he sensed their discontent. He sought to reassure. “Listen, nothing’s going to go wrong. We take Lothar in for questioning and hopefully knock his growing empire back.”
If The Collector showed, all the better.
Davar who had remained silent up until now shifted in his seat. His blond hair and blue eyes were the typical look of Enotians. “Jaron’s right. Keep comms open.”
“Done.” Jaron tapped the small bud inserted in his ear then fingered the almost unnoticed button on his collar. “Check my tracker.”
“Tracker is live and active,” Arak said.
With all the details confirmed, no one else voiced an argument and Jaron departed. Backtracking a bit, he half-ran, half-jogged to the appropriate site they’d mapped out to wait. Laying against the grass, dampness soaked through the front of his shirt. Jaron ignored the discomfort. “I’m in position.”
Arak clicked in, voice low in his comm. “Any signs of activity?”
Jaron pressed his eye to his scope. He had visuals on four moving bodies. The sun began its slow descent, but thanks to a few adjustments from Bane, he could switch from different grades of resolution to infrared imaging. He assumed the males patrolling the perimeter to be guards. Not that any of them wore a uniform, their clothing showing a bit of age. The weapons on the other hand were of high quality.
“Guards only.”
Suddenly the four men jumped into a flurry of activity.
“Incoming.” Davar’s low murmur came through the comm next.
Jaron angled his gaze upward and a sleek silver shuttle with trimmed wings and silent engines swooped in. “Visual confirmed.”
Landing gear whined as it prepared its descent. After hovering for a few moments, it gently thudded to the ground dispersing a cloud of dirt. The side door slid open and a ramp lowered with a thump.
Pulse skipping, Jaron held his breath and released it slowly. Lothar. It had to be. Movement from the left pulled his gaze away. A vehicle sped into the clearing and skidded to a rough stop. The business partner. Now they’d find out if The Collector was involved. “We have an unknown party heading this way.”
A slender man exited the lone hover-car pulling onto the air strip. Jaron studied the confident walk, the arrogant tilt to the dark head. “I need an identity on the new arrival. Now.”
“Sensors picking up two life forms still in the hover-car. As for the shuttle, some sort of shielding is preventing us from getting a confirmed reading. Not sure how many it’s carrying, but specs reveal its capable of holding seven passengers.”
“Acknowledged, Arak.” Jaron lowered his head to the ground, his chin brushing the dewy ground. His gaze locked onto the entrance of the shuttle.
Come on. Come on. He needed it to be Lothar.
Black boots appeared first in the entry way then the bulky frame of a Marenian with burnished skin of red gold and curved black horns jutting from the sides of his head.
“Confirmation of target. Lothar disembarking.” Jaron’s heart sped up at finally confronting the head of the slave trade spreading throughout their part of the world. They’d been chasing Lothar for a while now.
“Get me a close up image of the new arrival, Jaron. We need to confirm who Lothar is meeting.”
Arak’s suggestion prompted him. Jaron shifted his weight the slightest, not wanting to give away his position. Reaching carefully into his front pocket, he pulled out a mini-recorder and sent several rapid fire vids of the man clasping Lothar’s forearms in greeting.
Perspiration beaded Jaron’s forehead as he waited for his team to identify the newcomer. Seconds ticked by, but he maintained his position while every nerve vibrated with the need to act. The guards appeared more relaxed as they clustered together in a group. They stood slightly apart from Lothar and the other man. Laughter burst out occasionally from them along with broad smiles and a congenial atmosphere which had Jaron tensing.
Arak’s curse hit his comm right before Jaron was about to ask for an update. “You won’t believe this, Jaron.”
“Problem?” Last minute surprises never boded well. Jaron leaned his eye back into the scope, taking in the dark hair, tailored pants and shirt in muddy brown that blended with the landscape.
“You are looking at Dr. Salem Kirkem. Otherwise known as The Collector.”
Jaron’s pulse jumped and he echoed Arak’s curse. Their intel was accurate. Dr. Kirkem was wanted by every legal entity and yet he seemed constantly to evade capture. Not as high a priority as Lothar, but the Jutaks had their own reasons for wanting him destroyed.
“It’s good Kyele isn’t here.”
Dr. Kirkem was on Kyele’s automatic kill list for buying Joni through the slave trade and abusing her with his experiments.
“I’m updating Torkel now. He wants to comm in.”
“Go.”
Several clicks in his ear comm and then his Unit Leader’s clear voice rang out. “Jaron, I’m approving Geile and Gregir to join you. Do not move forward until they reach you. Mission status is upgraded to critical.”
“I can take the shot on The Collector.” He deserved to die.
“The commander wants him brought in alive if possible.”
Government officials always wanted the result which caused the teams the most difficulty.
“I have Lothar in my sight.” Jaron breathed out slowly as he murmured the words in his comm. He wanted nothing more than to kill Dr. Kirkem for what he’d done to Joni, but would settle for the Marenian who’d helped plot Faye’s kidnapping. “We can end this here.”
“Wait for back up, Jaron.” Torkel barked the order.
“Understood.” Although he didn’t agree, Jaron would wait for the rest of his team before making a move.
“Something about this set up feels wrong.”
Jaron stiffened as Arak echoed his earlier thoughts. The half-shifter was not to be ignored if his senses picked up something awry. Meanwhile the target they planned to capture bent his head and whispered furiously. Dr Kirkem’s body language screamed offended by whatever Lothar said and the guards gathering closer didn’t look pleased either.
From behind the arguing pair, another Marenian descended the shuttle. Twisted black horn amidst the shoulder length black hair confirmed his identity without much effort.
“We now have Arlo joining the fray.” Jaron adjusted his laser a little to the right. Maybe Torkel would allow him to shoot this one who caused more than his share of trouble.
The back door to the hover-car opened and a man exited, leading a woman wearing a leash. When he stopped and snapped out a command, she crouched on the ground. Her face was battered and blood stained, but the glare in her eyes could have taken any of the males down if given the chance.
“The remaining passengers have left the hover-car. Male, tall, race indiscernible along with a woman.” Jaron studied her slender form. “Female prisoner. Red hair, tanned skin. Can’t tell more with her head ducked down. Appears humanoid.”
Torkel murmured something he missed. Tension flowed through him, but Jaron took a deep breath striving for his calm on a mission. Below, the men concluded their business.
“They’re on the move.” Jaron reported as the two finished their conversation and The Collector turned away, snapping out commands. Jaron’s breath sped up at the thought of letting him escape. For many reasons and not just because the doctor was into brutal torture. He wanted him because the man had attempted to kill the Chosen of his fellow team leader, Kyele.
“Stand down, Jaron.” Torkel again.
Jaron aimed his laser sniper rifle at the good doctor’s head. “I have a clear shot.”
Torkel exhaled harshly “The Jutak council wants him alive. I repeat, we take them both alive if possible.”
More men burst from the shuttle Lothar had arrived in. Jaron bit off a foul word. Everything had just changed. This was going to blow up in their faces. “Target count has increased. More Marenians have exited the shuttle. Where are Geile and Gregir?”
“Join you in ten,” Geile said.
Someone yelled. The woman? No, the man. He tugged hard on her leash and pivoted to run. What was going on down there? Jaron wished he could hear the exchange. Lips flat, he tried to pinpoint why he suddenly wanted to scream a warning. “Tor—”
Laser fire blasted, cutting him off. The man holding the leash fell to the ground and the others scattered. The Marenians with Lothar fired more shots at Dr. Kirkem and his guards. Screams rang out, a blend of his team and the far-off shouts from those running below.
“What’s going on, Jaron? Lothar’s shuttle sent out an electronic scrambler. Sensors are down. We’re blind here.” Arak’s panic broke through the commotion going on below.
Deciding it worth the risk, Jaron took a shot at The Collector. At the last minute, the wily bastard ducked as if he knew he was being targeted. Jaron missed by a sliver, but the resulting whine of his weapon caused further chaos to erupt. Stares turned in his direction followed by several blasts.
Jaron leaped to his feet and dove over the mound he’d used as cover. “I think Lothar planned to betray The Collector. It’s not looking pretty as everyone’s firing at everyone down there.”
“We need to pull back.” Arak’s suggestion left a sour pit in Jaron’s belly.
They’d lose their chance to get Lothar. Not on his watch. “Pursuing original target.”
“No! Jaron, wait!’
Jaron muted the comm in his ear and ran faster toward the airstrip, body hunched low. Below, The Collector raced for his hover-car, yelling over his shoulder at his two remaining guards. Bodies littered the ground. Jaron’s thighs burned and sweat trickled down his spine. He would not let him get away.
As if undisturbed by the uproar, Lothar looked around at the mayhem. One of his men shouted and the leader finally bent at the waist and sped toward the shuttle. Torn between which man to pursue, Jaron veered at the last minute toward Lothar. Engines roared to life and lights lit in a seamless pattern along the sides of the shuttle, there bright glow blinding Jaron for a second.
He covered his face in his elbow and slid on his special visors. When Jaron dropped his arm, his vision cleared thanks to the high tech. The tall Marenian paused before going up the ramp and turned unerringly in his direction.
Lips twisted in a cruel slant, Lothar increased his pace and ducked between the closing doors. Before they shut, he faced Jaron and lifted his hand in a taunting salute. Then the metal slammed together, blocking him from view.
“Jaron, report!” Geile shouted in his ear.
Gregir chimed in. “Torkel, Lothar’s getting away. Direction?”
“Jaron, can you stop the shuttle?” Torkel snapped out the question, making no effort to hide his anger.
Jaron skidded to a halt and raised his laser to get off a few blasts as the craft lifted into the air, stirring red dust on the ground. To his dismay, the shielding was up and his shots had no impact. With a low whine, the shuttle zoomed off, disappearing from view and taking the man they wanted with it.
Two guards left behind stood arms akimbo, but no one seemed to pay them any attention. Jaron debated his next action. He looked for The Collector. The hover-car remained in place, but the good doctor wasn’t to be seen. Neither was the unknown woman. They’d lost Lothar, but The Collector would still make a viable prisoner.
“Geile and Gregir cease support actions. Abort the mission, Jaron and return to Arak and Team One. I want a complete report on how this turned into such a mess.”
For one dark moment, Jaron considered refusing the order. Somewhere down there The Collector hid. If he found him, this wouldn’t be a total waste.
At the thought, Jaron froze. He was too close to this mission and his judgment was impaired. He wanted Lothar as bad as the others for all the Marenian had done, but protocol needed to be followed.
“Acknowledged. Returning to shuttle landing zone for pick up.”
“We are heading back. Arrival less than two minutes,” Geile and Gregir said together.
“Scanners detect enemy vessels approaching. They’re of Marenian design.”
“Fuck!” Jaron ran harder at this news from Davar. What was going on? Had Lothar planned to attack Dr. Kirkem or had Dr. Kirkem planned to attack Lothar.
“Step it up, Jaron.” Arak’s growl rasped over the comm.
“On it.” Adrenaline surged and Jaron powered forth, the distance seeming unusually longer than it had taken him to get to his location.
“Evasive maneuvers needed in less than five. Sensors pick up advanced weapons systems on two of the three vessels.” Back on the shuttle, Gregir worked with the pilot, his skills as a sniper and pilot might be necessary.
“Only waiting for you, Jaron. Where are you?”
Jaron paused to confirm his location for Arak. Still a ways out. “Can you defend until I get there?”
“Negative,” Davar snapped.
“Is Lothar’s shuttle gone?” Urgency laced Torkel’s tone.
Gregir cursed. “Confirmed. Original target gone.”
“Jaron, how close are you?”
He wanted to answer his Unit Leader, but right now breathing took priority and his lungs burned as he raced over the open field, dirt kicking up from his boots. Then Jaron crested the rise and their shuttle hovered above the ground, rising for take off. “I have visual.”
“Get your ass on that shuttle!” Torkel’s anger blasted him.
“My thoughts too, Torkel.” Jaron infused the comment with humor, while his heart beat like a drum against his chest.
The shuttle doors slid open as soon as the pilot must have spotted him. Jaron panted, preparing to close the ever-increasing distance. He’d have to jump so he kept up his momentum and leaped the last few feet, grasping the edge of the rim on the running boards. Hands reached down to lock onto one of his wrists as they took off with a burst of power from the engines.
Jaron tossed his laser across the floor and it flew under the seat with a clatter.
“Hang on,” Geile yelled, leaning far over on his stomach as he grabbed Jaron’s wildly swinging other arm.
Air rushed over him, his eyes tearing up from the pressure. Laser fire zinged behind him and one of his legs slammed into a rail. “Fuck!”
“Pull him up, pull him up!” Arak snarled.
The skin on his bare wrists burned. Jaron met Geile’s gaze as his teammate’s grip slipped. He wasn’t going to make it. At this rate, his friends were at risk. Jaron parted his lips to speak.
“Fuck, no!” Geile snapped, his blue eyes lit with a fierce light.
More lasers. A burning flare of pain cut across his lower left leg. Jaron swallowed. This was a risk they all faced when going out. But he refused to take his team down with him. As Team Leader he had to make the tough call.
“We have to close the door. Get him in here, Geile!”
Jaron’s gaze shifted to behind Geile. Arak, Davar and Gregir fought with their safety harnesses, trying to get free to help. They’d have to override the locking system or the pilot.
“Get a safety line on him,” Arak roared.
Geile lost his hold on one wrist and Jaron’s lower half banged into the side of the shuttle again. Pain ricocheted through his hips and groin.
“I can’t! If I reach for it, I’ll lose him.”
The black cord dangled only a few feet away neatly coiled on the rack to the side of the door. Pain again ripped through Jaron’s torso. Something popped at his right shoulder and still the shuttle rose. This wasn’t going to work.
Then the inevitable happened.
“I’m hit!” Geile shouted and pressed his free hand to his straining arm. A large wet stain spread over the black material of his shirt, but he tightened his remaining hold on Jaron, the torment evident on his face.
Jaron met Geile’s gaze. “Let go.”
His friend’s expression ranged from remorse to regret then anger. “Fuck you, no, Jaron.”
Wind whipped his lower half, battering his body against the side of the shuttle. Jaron swallowed. “I’ll be fine.”
He forced himself to smile. It wasn’t that he wasn’t afraid. He’d be foolish not to be. But he had a job to do and an obligation to protect his men if possible.
“Don’t let him go, Geile. Don’t you let him go, damn it!” The words were intermixed with snarls.
Jaron wanted to reassure Arak, but time dwindled. If the shuttle lifted any higher, he might not survive the fall. He had to let go now.
“Enemy lock! Enemy lock!” The pilot yelled over the ship’s wall mounted comm. “Shields can’t go up with the door open.”
Defenseless, the shuttle wouldn’t last under heavy fire. No way he wanted to chance everyone’s life. Having said what he needed, Jaron pulled hard on his hand, fingers growing slack from Geile’s as he let himself fall backward.
“Nooo!” Arak used his claws to slice through the harness and dove across the floor. Their eyes met. Fingers touched and missed. Arak snarled and the tip of one claw sliced across Jaron’s open palm.
Free of obstacles, the door slid closed. The shuttle’s thrusters engaged full force as it surged away. The Marenian ships gave chase. Jaron fell the few feet to the ground, his back jarring as he landed. Breath froze and his lungs seized. He ached all over. No time to focus on the pain. Get up, get up. Have to get up.
Pushing up on to his hands, he gritted his teeth against the wrenching agony from his busted shoulder. He shoved to his knees and fire raced down his right side. Shoulder dislocated. Laser burn to upper thigh. Another curse slipped past his lips, but Jaron dug his booted heels in and rose unsteadily to his feet. He’d been in worse spots before. A temporary hiding place would do and he’d wait for his team to return for him. Likely, Torkel would send another team from the Unit whether it was safe or not.
“Well, well, well. What do we have?” The question dripped with unmistakable pleasure.
Jaron turned, but his leg buckled, dropping him to one knee. Standing over him was none other than The Collector. Empty brown eyes glittered down into his. His heart sped up. “Dr. Kirkem.”
“Jutak warrior.” The Collector stepped on his comm laying on the ground, which crackled and crunched beneath his boot. The now destroyed device was his only contact with his team.
Jaron let a sneer play about his mouth. He still had his tracker on his collar. “That won’t stop my Unit Leader.”
“Then he can join my collection too. I’m not feeling overly fond of Marenians right now.” A smug grin twisted the narrow lips. “For obvious reasons.”