Chapter Eight
Seb glanced up and down the hallway for the billionth time, tapping his foot while he waited for Jenna to reappear. She’d used one of her gadgets to knock out the security cameras in the immediate area, but he had a creeping sensation along the back of his neck.
No one had passed through the passageway so far and at this time of day when most people were on-shift, it was unlikely anyone would come by. Still, his heart pitter-pattered like a damn little drummer boy, and for some reason he couldn’t quite get a full breath into his lungs.
This espionage stuff sure wasn’t for the faint of heart, and the last few hours had given him a new appreciation for the life Jenna had lived. He couldn’t imagine doing this day in, day out. Standing guard outside the apartment of his CO while a supposedly dead chick helped herself to said CO’s uniforms wasn’t even dangerous. No one was going to use him for target practice if he happened to get caught, though he’d have more than a few awkward questions to face.
And they were questions he wouldn’t have answers for, because while he’d agreed to come along as lookout on this little jaunt, his brain had most definitely stalled. At some point between when he and Jenna had gotten their lips together—he still couldn’t work out who had kissed who exactly—to when Bren had interrupted them with her badly timed comm, his mind had hit the deck with a messy slap and hadn’t quite picked itself up yet.
Okay, yeah, he’d been laying the flirting on a little heavier than usual, because something about Jenna intrigued him. But he hadn’t seriously considered taking things there. He’d learned his lesson about letting people get close after Lawler. Call him a schmuck, but he liked to know who he was sleeping with, and since Jenna’s entire life was dedicated to being someone else every other day of the week, he didn’t want to go to bed with a girl who didn’t really exist. One best friend who didn’t really exist had been more than enough mind-screw for one lifetime.
Who would ever have guessed he actually had some principles buried beneath the layers of sarcasm and good-time attitude?
He wrapped his hand around his wrist, over his multifunction device, resisting the urge to glance at it for the tenth time. The damn thing would only tell him that two entire minutes had gone by anyway. But how long did it take to swipe a few clothes from a closet?
He grabbed a quick look up and down the passageway, then shuffled sideways and slid open the door to the apartment. “Jenna, come on, let’s get moving.”
“I’m coming.” Her answer floated from the direction of Bren’s bedroom. “Get back outside and keep watch like you’re meant to.”
He started sliding the door closed again. “Yes, ma’am, Ms Bossy-britches—” His muttering died in the back of his throat as a dark-clad figure loomed up on his left side.
He ducked just in time to avoid getting his head smashed into the wall and pushed off from the bulkhead, spinning to face the attacker. Before Seb had quite gotten his footings, his assailant—covered from head to toe in black—launched at him. He tried to scuttle back but started going down, and decided to go with it. The smaller guy came after him, but Seb used the downward motion to roll, evading a fist in the face.
As he came up into a crouch, the attacker leaped at him again, hands out, ninja-style. Seb shoved to his feet and got his arms up to block the strike and then grabbed the guy’s elbow, propelling him off balance. While the assailant tried to recover, Seb got in a hit under the ribs, gratified when his opponent let out a hard grunt.
But his satisfaction didn’t last.
The attacker spun with a sharp movement, arm closing around his throat as a foot in the back of his knees sent him down. Trying to loosen the pressure, Seb clamped a hand around the forearm cutting off his air. Blackness trickled around the edges of his vision as he desperately jammed his elbow backward, catching the guy square in the guts. The arm on his neck loosened a fraction but didn’t release. In another second, it was banding tighter again, bringing with it a surging tide of panic.
The door in front of him slid open, and Jenna appeared, her face dropping into a mask of shock as her gaze landed on him. But in a blink, her expression sharpened with deadly intent as she pulled a gun and lined the sights above his head. The attacker released him by shoving him forward and then jumping up. Jenna let off a single shot as the attacker dashed down the corridor.
Seb collapsed onto his hands, sucking oxygen into his aching throat until his eyes watered.
“Seb!” Jenna came down next to him, hands on his shoulders. Her touch brought a sense of relief and safety. As cool air sliced into his lungs, dizziness slammed into him, and he leaned sideways until the deck came up to meet him, Jenna keeping him steady as he dropped.
“Just need to lie down for a minute,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as sparks flashed in his vision. “Did you get him?”
Except apparently Jenna wasn’t on board with the horizontal plan. She pulled at him, forcing him upright into a sitting position, and then leaned him against the bulkhead.
“No, he ducked the shot and ran away.”
“You should have gone after him,” he muttered as he grappled with lucidity.
“No you don’t, tough guy. You need to stay conscious, at least until we get you checked out on medbay level.”
He forced his eyes open, making himself focus on her. “And how am I going to explain that I got attacked by a ninja while I was doing a half-assed job of playing lookout as you pilfered a uniform from my CO’s apartment?”
She rolled her eyes and got her shoulder underneath his arm, then helped him to his feet. “Obviously, you need to leave out the last bit, and probably the bit about the ninja, if you ever want anyone to take you seriously again.”
They started at a slow walk down the passageway. “But you saw him, right? Tell me how that wasn’t a ninja.”
He felt her tighten underneath his arm and got the feeling she was trying not to laugh. “Because for one, ninjas don’t exist. And even if they did, have you ever heard of a ninja in space? More like it was just a well-trained operative who wanted to make sure they couldn’t be identified.”
By the time they arrived at the transit, he was feeling more stable, and slid his arm from around her shoulders. “Why the hell did some ninja wannabe try to take me down?”
As she tabbed the control screen, Jenna avoided his gaze. “My guess? Whoever thinks they had me killed is trying to tie up loose ends. You were the pilot who flew me down to Ilari, the last person who saw me alive, and the one who supposedly recovered the information I went to retrieve. Kill you, and the situation becomes a neatly tied package.”
He hugged his aching ribs and tried not to breathe too deeply, even though his mind still felt too slow and oxygen deprived. “Well, yeah, that would make sense. To an evil supervillain.”
The transit arrived and he shuffled on, shooting Jenna an exasperated glare when she tried to help him. She held her hands up in surrender, though he couldn’t miss the flash of concern in her jade gaze.
He jabbed his destination into the control panel. “For the record, I’m not going up to medbay. I’m going to my debriefing.”
With a short breath, he leaned back against the wall, giving his legs more of a chance to steady themselves. The past twenty-four hours slammed into him like a meteor, leaving him aching and exhausted.
“Look, this isn’t some macho won’t-see-a-doctor-until-I’m-dead thing,” he said wearily, dragging a hand through his hair. “This is me trying to avoid lying anymore than I already am. If I tell them I almost got my number clocked, then they’re going to want to know where I was, what I was doing, how the guy got away and why there isn’t any security footage. I just want to forget the whole thing even happened.”
A shadow of emotion flashed through her eyes. “Sure, whatever will make this easiest on you.”
A tightness grabbed him in the guts, leaving him feeling like he’d said something wrong. But damned if he could work out what that might have been, with his midsection sore, his neck aching, and his brain still on a slow spin.
The remainder of the ride went by in silence, while Jenna avoided looking at him, and he surreptitiously studied the gorgeous line of her profile. That kiss had been something else. The instant heat and intensity had taken him with all surprise of a rocket flare in the face. He couldn’t remember the last time a simple kiss had blown him away like that. A shudder shot down his spine, and he forced himself to stare at the inset screen beside the door. Truthfully, there hadn’t been anything simple about that kiss, both figuratively and literally.
It would be too easy to forget the dangerous complications that had brought them together, to allow himself to be seduced by the girl-next-door thing Jenna had going on. Except he kept stumbling on the same issue—it wasn’t who she really was. He might be a lot of things, but he never lied to himself. It was bad enough that he was currently lying to every single person he’d ever met. Getting involved with her, even with no strings attached, would easily be the dumbest thing he’d ever done. And that was saying something, because he’d done a lot of stupid-ass things over the years.
As the doors opened, he blew out a quiet sigh, then followed Jenna out to the foyer of the command center.
“It’s better if we’re not seen together,” she murmured, beginning to move away from him.
But apparently, he couldn’t just let her go. He reached out and grabbed her hand, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. “Be careful.”
She sent him a half glance over her shoulder, before striding away.
Damned if he didn’t want to stand there and stare after her like a freaking forlorn puppy. He forced his legs to get moving, ignoring how his heart gave a couple of hard thumps. Of course, last time she’d walked away from him, down on Ilari, she’d almost gotten killed and he’d spent part of the night thinking he was going to retrieve her dead body.
As he approached the guards in front of the doors leading into the command center, he shoved all the unhelpful thoughts from his mind to concentrate on what needed to be done. Firstly, he had to get Jenna’s door-jamming gadget in place, and then he had to find a way to convincingly lie his way through the debriefing.
One of the guards stepped forward and held out a datapad to check his security clearance, then stepped back and nodded at his partner, who put his own hand on the scanner and tapped in a code.
As Seb moved through the doorway, he brushed close to the frame, pressing the small piece of equipment into the seam where the hatch usually clicked into place. He quickened his steps as he headed down the passageway, but stole a glance over his shoulder to see the door still open and the two guards obviously trying to work out what had gone wrong.
He puffed out a short breath of relief as he turned the corner out of sight. Okay, half his mission down…now for the really hard part. At least the sneaking and subterfuge had almost made him forget all the aches from the incident with the pseudo-ninja.
Bren was waiting for him outside the conference room, arms crossed and expression tense.
“Sorry to call you right back up here, Seb, but Agent Stanton insisted we needed to debrief you right away. Something about getting the best information while the impressions are still fresh in your mind. Sounds like BS, if you ask me, but you know how Command Intelligence have got their hands up the puppet’s rear end of the UEF.”
Bren’s choice in words ambushed him with a short laugh, and he pressed a hand against the resulting ache in his side. “Geez, CAFF, tell it like it is.”
She sent him a flat look. “Yeah, laugh all you want now, Rayne, but this won’t be a typical debriefing. Stanton isn’t just sitting in, he insisted on running the show. So prepare to be steamrolled.”
He cursed as Bren opened the conference room doors, walking through without waiting for him.
Freaking great. He’d been calm-ish about the prospect of lying his way through this meeting because debriefings were an every-other-day thing—he knew the procedures inside out and backward. With Stanton calling the shots, only God knew how this would go down.
Ever since the first Christ’s Sunday Soldiers’ moles had been discovered on the Valiant Knox several months ago, Stanton and Command Intelligence had been getting more and more say in how things were run, despite Commander Yang technically being in charge of the ship.
The realization that people on the crew they’d trusted were only posing as United Earth Military in order to infiltrate and undermine the war efforts had been a ploy no one had seen coming, and the enemy had done a lot of damage before their furtive incursion had been realized, initially by Commander Yang.
Since then, an alarming number of double agents had been discovered, including his best friend, a fact that was easier to not think about. Otherwise the anger started getting the better of him, and he considered doing idiotic things like finding out where CI had sent Lawler and visiting the guy for a bit of old-fashioned payback.
The fallout was probably harder on the honest people than the damn traitors. CI had decided everyone was a suspect and had been given the right to dig into anyone’s life whenever they suspected someone might be a CSS mole. The crew was on edge, and it was only getting worse.
He followed Bren into the conference room, spotting Commander Yang first. He nodded his respects and swallowed a second litany of curses. Hell, if the damned commander of the Knox had to sit in on a debriefing, then he was screwed.
Yang sent him a return nod. “Have a seat, Sub-Lieutenant. Sorry about the short notice.”
Seb grabbed the nearest chair and parked his butt, putting him directly across from Alpha, who shot him a grim look.
Stanton sat at the far end of the table, datapad in front of him, and detached expression on his face. “Now that the guest of honor has arrived, let’s get started, shall we? Sub-Lieutenant Rayne, please recount your mission from the beginning and leave nothing out, even details you think may be insignificant.”
Seb folded his hands on the table, and focused just beyond Stanton’s shoulder as he began the reporting. For the next hour, Stanton made him go over and over his story, several times, occasionally needling him about details from several different angles, until his mind started turning to mush. He strove to keep his story straight, but by the time he’d described finding Jenna’s body and taking the information instead of the corpse for the twentieth time, he couldn’t have said whether the nuances were matching up any longer.
Bren slid a glass of water in front of him, and he sent her a grateful smile.
Down the other end of the table, Stanton stared at him with cutting suspicion, tapping one finger against the edge of his datapad. “Is there anything else you’d like to add before we finish, Sub-Lieutenant? Think very carefully before you answer.”
Alpha sat forward, his chair creaking slightly. “Come on, Stanton. What are you looking for here? Seb has answered all your questions and told us the same thing a hundred different ways. He went above and beyond duty. Whatever mess you’ve got isn’t the FP squadron’s problem. There’s nothing else to answer for.”
Stanton steepled his hands over the datapad. “See, here’s the problem, Captain Alphin, I think Rayne is lying about something. One of my best agents is dead, the drive he gave me was empty, which means the information Agent Maxwell sacrificed her life to recover has gone missing. Sure, we’ve been over his story twenty times, but it’s not the story I want to hear.”
Seb wrapped his hands around the armrests of the chair, heartbeat beginning to pick up. Great. All he needed to do was start sweating and Stanton would nail him.
“What makes you so sure Seb is lying, and why would he even need to? There weren’t any discrepancies in his report,” Bren demanded with an affronted glare.
“No, there weren’t,” Stanton agreed, focusing an intent stare on him that sent ice crackling through his veins. “But reading between the lines, it seems to me Rayne is leaving something out.”
Commander Yang stood, sending Stanton a formidable glare. “Since I’m the only one here who can say this out loud, I’m going to come right out with it. You’ve got your head up your ass, Stanton. Rayne is running on twenty-four hours plus without sleep, coming off a mission from behind enemy lines that went sideways. If you’re reading anything between the lines of this accounting, it’s that the man needs some downtime and a few hours’ sleep.”
Hard-edged guilt sliced through Seb as he looked away from Commander Yang. Thank God his people had his back…not that he deserved it when Stanton was right on the money about him lying his ass off.
Stanton’s cold glare slid from Commander Yang back to him, and Seb locked down his muscles against the urge to fidget under the chilling regard.
“Playing hardball, are we?” Stanton leaned forward in his chair. “Then let me reciprocate in kind. Until I find out what happened to my agent and where my missing information has ended up, Sub-Lieutenant Sebastian Rayne will be demoted to light duties, and definitely won’t be allowed to leave the Valiant Knox for any reason whatsoever.”
“To hell with that!” Hot anger shoved Seb to his feet.
Yang held a hand up, motioning for him to be quiet. “You don’t have the authority to make that call.”
Stanton leaned back in his chair again, dark satisfaction on his face. “Don’t I? How about we run it up the chain and see where that gets us?”
Commander Yang’s expression hardened as he stared at Stanton and Seb held his breath, half expecting bloodshed.
“You’re going to regret this, Stanton.” Yang leaned forward and braced both fists against the table. “This may get you what you want in the short term. But for the long term? You’ve just made a play that’s going to lose you the game.”
Stanton slowly stood, sliding the datapad off the desk.
“That remains to be seen.” He walked the length of the table to pause next to Seb. “Whatever you’re hiding, even if it’s just that you took an unauthorized piss, I will find out, and then the two of us will finish this conversation.”
Seb clenched both fists and glanced away. It was the only way he could stop himself from smashing the man in the face before the agent left the room.
“What an asshat,” Alpha muttered, shoving to his feet. “Is this really going to stand, Commander?”
Yang dragged a hand over his short hair and then shot an apologetic look at Seb. “For now, yes. I’m sorry, Seb. Stanton has the power to make things very unpleasant for us all if we don’t dance to his tune. But as soon as I get to my office, I’ll be working to fix this. For now, try not to get yourself into any more trouble.”
He managed a single nod, because the amount of pissed off he was rocking wouldn’t let him give any more than that.
“Bren, Alpha, dismissed. CAFF, I know it’ll be hard, but try to find some duties for Seb that might have half a chance of keeping him entertained.”
Bren murmured an agreement, and sent him a nod before she and Alpha left the room.
Seb sucked in a silent breath, trying to get a rein on his temper. Okay, he totally deserved this, because technically Stanton was right. But hell, he was one of the good guys here.
“Seb.”
He turned to find Yang had walked around the table to stop next to him.
“Yes, sir?”
Yang studied him for a short moment. “If there is something you’re not telling us, whatever that might be, and knowing you, I’m sure it’s for all the right reasons… What I’m trying to say is, I’ll listen, and I’ll do my damnedest to help you. You’re one of our best, Rayne. And considering the hits we’ve taken lately, we can’t afford to have you out of the black for long.”
Guilt abraded his insides like liquid mercury in his veins and he swallowed hard over the bitterness. Lawler hadn’t been the only loss the fighter pilot squadron had taken in recent months. Through that traitor’s actions, several squad members had been killed and the main base on the ground bombed, killing almost a hundred good soldiers, many of whom had been senior officers.
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
Yang clasped him on the shoulder, then left the conference room.
Seb dropped his head into his hands as he leaned against the table.
Goddamn it all to hell.
This was so totally screwed. Maybe he should go to Yang with the truth. The commander had nothing to do with CI—maybe he could help them find out who had attempted to kill Jenna. But, undoubtedly Yang would want to do things by the book, and that could expose the fact that she was still alive to the wrong people.
Maybe Alpha then, or Bren? He’d known the two of them longer than anyone else in his life, they’d take his secrets to the grave if he asked. Yet the idea of betraying Jenna’s confidence made cold remorse churn in his guts. She was the one whose life was on the line here, so telling anyone else, no matter how much he trusted them, wasn’t a call he had the right to make.
The best thing he could do to end this farce was help her find the truth, sooner rather than later. Tiredness making his thoughts slow, he left the empty room.
He didn’t make it to the end of the corridor before Bren and Alpha appeared, obviously waiting for him.
Alpha clapped him on the back. “Sorry, man, Stanton really seems to have it in for you.”
“This’ll blow over,” Bren said, not a hint of doubt hollowing the confidence in her voice. “Stanton is obviously just pissed his assignment went wrong, and he lost an agent. He wants someone to blame and you’re convenient.”
“Thanks,” he muttered in return. “Ever considered working as the squadron shrink instead of the CAFF?”
Bren sent him an exasperated glare. “Well, I was going to tell you a bunch of us are meeting up at Harley’s after shift and you should come along with Jenna once you’ve had a few hours’ sleep, but maybe I’ll just keep the invite to myself.”
He wiggled an accusing finger at the CAFF. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re up to. You want me to bring Jenna so you can work her for things to hold over me next time you need some leverage.”
Alpha gave a short laugh. “Seb, the only leverage anyone needs is your inability to play poker.”
“I can play poker just fine.” He shot his buddy an indignant frown.
“Your paycheck might have a different opinion on the matter.”
“Anyway,” Bren butted in. “I’m not going to grill her. I just thought we’d show her a little Knox hospitality before she heads to the ground.”
Damn it, how was he supposed to keep his shit together for an entire evening of pretending Jenna was a childhood friend without tripping her or himself up? Far from the usual wind-down at the squadron’s favorite bar on commerce level—a section of the ship with shops, restaurants, and entertainment that doubled as a supply depot for travelers when the ship wasn’t stationed in a war zone—this would be one headache-inducing, stressful outing. He wanted to refuse like the need to itch a rash, but he didn’t have any good reason that wouldn’t seem weird or make Bren suspicious.
“Obviously I’ll have to okay it with Jenna, but if she’s up for it, fine. We’ll come by Harley’s after shift.”
Bren’s smile widened and he groaned like he’d just made a deal with the devil.
“Seriously—”
She held up both hands. “I won’t ask a single question. But I take no responsibility for what comes up in conversation once a few rounds are down.”
“Whatever. I’m going to hit the rack. Don’t you two have some fighter piloting stuff to be doing?”
Alpha sent him a grin. “You might want to rest that head of yours. You’ll need it once Bren gets talking to your Jenna, and Mia puts herself in the mix.”
“She’s not my Jenna,” he shot back automatically, though it somehow came out sounding wrong.
“Uh-huh.” Bren didn’t need to roll her eyes, he heard it loud and clear in her voice.
And that was the end of the conversation for him. “I’ll see you guys tonight.”
Before either of them could say anything else, he escaped, hustling down the passageway.
Hopefully whatever Jenna needed to access in the command center would help her get answers sooner rather than later, and they wouldn’t have to keep up this charade for much longer. Would it be too much to hope she could expose the culprit and stop playing dead before shift finished today?
Yeah, he wasn’t even fooling himself with that one. Whether he liked it or not, they were going to end up at after-shift drinks, with him desperately trying to act normal. If he attempted to avoid it, no doubt Jenna would give him some spiel about keeping up appearances and maintaining the cover, acting normal, all the clichés. Maybe he just really needed a shower and a few hours’ sleep. Maybe then things wouldn’t look so dismal… It certainly couldn’t look any worse.