Captured by the Cyborg (17 page)

Illumina nodded. “I’ll try,” she lied.

“You’ll do more than try.”

He flexed his wings then folded them into place. His shove sent her sprawling into the pilot’s chair. She slid a hand onto the bloodied screen.

I have to focus on the computer
, she signaled. She couldn’t communicate with his microprocessor and the ship at the same time.
I love you
. She choked.

Don’t say that like it’s good-bye
. Pause.
I love you, too
.

If Dale succeeded in sneaking aboard—and it was a huge if—he would still have to contend with Alonio, and he had no idea the monster her ex had become. If he missed the narrow window of opportunity to board, and she restarted the ship, his little pod would not be able to keep up.

“What are you waiting for?” Alonio snapped.

“I’m trying to find the error.”

“Hurry up.”

Computer, open emergency bay shuttle launch door.

“Switch to voice command so I know what you’re doing.” Forearm shifted into dagger.

“Computer, activate voice mode,” she said aloud, while thinking, “
Computer, countermand previous order and
launch escape pod.

A faint rumble shuddered through the craft. Fear doubled her heart rate.

Alonio cocked his head. “What’s that noise? That’s not the engines. And why isn’t the computer speaking?” He shoved her hand off the screen and palmed it. “Computer! Voice mode! Report!”

“Escape pod launched,” the computer said.

He backhanded her. Her head slammed into the padded seat. “What did you do?”

“I’m sorry! I made a mistake! I couldn’t concentrate with you standing over me.”

“Computer, close the emergency bay,” he barked.

The bay couldn’t have been open more than twenty seconds, scarcely enough time to eject the pod. Dale couldn’t have gotten onboard.

Alonio pressed his blade to the underside of her jaw and drew blood. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but if you don’t have this ship started in ten seconds, I’ll slit your throat.”

She could have pointed out that without her, he would drift in space until he died of starvation because he no longer had an escape pod, but attempts to reason with him would lead to an abrupt end to her life. Out of options, she palmed the screen. Streams of code flashed through her mind. She inserted herself into the line of marching numbers and changed the single digit that hung everything up.

“Prepare for re-propulsion,” the computer said. “Re-igniting engines.” With a jerk, the craft surged forward.

Sheathing the dagger, Alonio dragged her out of the chair then hauled her down the corridor to the cargo hold. He sandwiched her between the door and his body and planted his palm against the entry module. She choked, fighting to remain positive.

Maybe Dale would get his pod back on his ship and would catch up with them again. Perhaps there would be another chance for a rescue. Hope wobbled under despair wrought by the facts. She would not get another opportunity to open the bay to let him in. He could follow the ship, but he wouldn’t be able to board. If only she’d had a few more seconds on the bridge…they’d come so close.
Oh, Dale
.
Dale!

I’m right behind you, sweetheart.

Illumina gasped.

Alonio whipped around.

Her cyborg stood in the corridor.

Alonio dragged Illumina in front of him as a starburst of light shot out of his wrist. A dagger unsheathed, and he pressed the blade to her throat.

Way to go, Homme
. He’d fucked up already by calling out to Illumina, allowing Alonio to react.
Focus on the objective. Don’t let emotion get in the way. Personal feelings impede outcome.

“One step closer, and she dies,” Alonio said.

Marshaling his willpower, Dale suppressed his rage and forced himself to ignore her bloody and battered face, her chin-length, jagged hair, and focused on his target. “If she dies, you die,” he said with deadly calm.

In pieces. In Cy-Ops, he had taken out many an enemy, but he’d never tortured anyone to death. The Faria would be the first.

Dale held his blaster level, his microprocessor calculating the odds that he could pull the trigger faster than the Faria could sever an artery. He had an edge of .4 seconds, but if Alonio’s body fell, the knife could cut her anyway. Too risky.

Until something changed, they were in a standoff.

“Drop your weapon,” the Faria ordered. “Or I’ll kill her now.” No idle threat. His gaze radiated crazed determination; he was willing to commit suicide to murder Illumina.

Dale didn’t fear for his own life, but he would do anything to keep Illumina alive and well. Besides, he had other weapons. He slid his finger off the trigger and across the barrel. Maintaining eye contact, he bent and placed the weapon on the floor.

“Kick it away.”

He gave it a gentle shove with his foot.

Illumina’s gaze shifted downward.
If he moves, I can try—

No, Illumina.

He blocked her thoughts to avoid distraction. He didn’t dare make the same mistake by allowing emotion to cloud his reason. Keep the focus. The mission would be victorious, his might would overpower the enemy, and she would survive
.

“Release her, and I’ll allow you to live,” Dale said.

A couple of seconds of opportunity or a couple of centimeters of space between the knife and her throat was all he needed.

“Do you think I’m a fool?”

“It isn’t just me you have to worry about,” he said. “You’re a wanted man. Half the galaxy is searching for you. The AOP won’t let this pass this time.”

“Bureaucrats don’t worry me. You don’t worry me. Remove your utility belt.”

That could be a problem.

Alonio twisted her hair around his fist. “I don’t have to kill her all at once.” With his knife arm, he sawed through the hair next to the scalp. She screamed.

Dale unclipped the weapons belt to which he’d holstered two other blasters and three MED-21 charges.

“Toss it over it here.” Alonio motioned with the knife.

His two-second, two-centimeter break.

Dale grabbed a blaster before the belt hit the floor. He went for the head shot, but the Faria’s knife arm transformed into a shield, scattering the photon stream in a spray of sparks. With a cry, Illumina wrenched away. Her ex latched onto her dress. She struck at his face with her fist, landing a blow near his eye.

A raucous Farian cry of rage rocked the craft.

Dale shot off another blast. The shield came up in time to block it. Sparks sizzled.

He fired again.

Alonio released her, and she dove for the blaster, but her ex kicked it out of her reach. Hiding behind the shield, he scooted backward then disappeared down a side passage.

Dale scooped up Illumina. “Are you all right?”

She nodded.

He picked up the blaster and pressed it into her hand. “Go to the bridge. Lock yourself in. You can do that, right?” With her computer ability, she could change the codes, block entry.

“Y-yes.”

He snapped on his belt and grabbed another weapon. “I’m going after him. Contact March. Tell him where we are. He’ll contact Cyber Operations.” He brushed a gentle kiss to her swollen mouth. “Don’t open the bridge until I come back—or Cy-Ops gets here. Understand?” He didn’t think Alonio could best him, but the transformation from dagger to shield had been an unpleasant, unexpected development. Dale didn’t like surprises. His weapons outpowered any knife or saber, but if the Faria created a blaster-type weapon...

“Be careful,” she said.

No promise on that one. He would do whatever it required to solve the problem. The Faria would be brought to justice—cyborg justice. Swift and permanent. “Go now,” he said.

Illumina hesitated as if to argue, but then she nodded and headed down the passage. Dale sprinted after his quarry.

What would the Faria do now? Would he hole up? Mount an attack? Or attempt to flee the ship? Alonio could be lying in wait, plotting an ambush.
Make no assumptions. Check and verify
.

A passage that may have been a maintenance channel because it was almost too narrow for Dale to squeeze his bulky cyborg body through broke off from the wider aisle. He flattened himself against the wall and peeked into the passage. A fireball zoomed by his ear. He jerked to avoid having his scalp singed. The wall lit up red-hot upon impact.

Good news: he’d located Alonio.

Bad news: he did have other capabilities.

Keeping as much of his bulk shielded by the wall as he could, he peered into the passage. Within a millisecond, his cybervision detected the target, his body hidden behind his arm-shield except for his wings, rising over his shoulders like two swords. Dale squeezed off a shot. It skimmed over the shield and hit the tip of his left wing. The Faria bellowed with pain. The satisfying stench of burning feathers wafted through the corridor.

How do you like it, asshole?
This is for Illumina
. He fired again, hitting lower on the wing. Alonio roared and his armor disintegrated, but before Dale could react, another fireball whizzed down the corridor, forcing him to take cover behind the wall. Maybe, before he killed the asshole, he’d pluck him alive.

Dale stole another glance. The shield was up again. Switching between flamethrower and shield and absorbing a blaster hit had to be draining. Perhaps if he kept the Faria shifting, his energy would be depleted. He fired off three blasts in quick succession. Two hit the shield; the third burned through an already-singed wing. Alonio roared. The top quarter of his right wing had been reduced to its skeletal frame.

Before his enemy could shoot off a retaliatory fireball, Dale stepped into the open and blasted down the passage, alternating between shield and wings. If Alonio’s energy ran down, he might lose his ability to transmutate altogether.

The asshole must have realized it, too, because he retreated at a fast clip. Crap. The passage fed into the starboard corridor where the escape pod bay was located and where Dale’s craft was docked.

A much smaller man than Dale, the Faria scooted through the narrow corridor with ease. Dale had to suck in his breath then inch sideways while firing to prevent Alonio from getting off another fireball and toasting him like a roast in the oven. But no way would he allow him to escape and continue his reign of terror against Illumina.

Alonio reached the end of the passage. His shield shimmered.

Oh. Shit.

You okay?
March’s communique zipped into his brain.

Armor transformed to flamethrower.
Oh, shit.
Dale fired. The fireball blew right through the photon steam and slammed into Dale’s chest. Heat flashed upward, and the shock wave threw him backward several meters. Reflex averted his face, squeezed his eyelids shut.

When he dared to peek, his shirt was melted onto his prototype body armor, but other than a first degree burn on his face, which his nanocytes rushed to heal, he was fine. The Faria, however, was gone.

Peachy,
Dale replied to March.
Good news. I’ve tested the body armor, and it works.

A Cy-Ops team is on its way. ETA in twelve minutes.

Roger that. Hope they’ve got a fire extinguisher.

What?

Nothing. Homme, out.
By the time Cy-Ops arrived, Alonio would be a name in history.

No longer in danger of being crisped he hastened though the passage and entered the starboard aisle. Vacant. The Faria hadn’t wasted time making himself scarce.

Plastering himself to the wall to minimize target size, he raced for the emergency bay to cut off the escape route.

The Faria’s reign of terror ended today. Right here. Illumina was armed and protected on the bridge; a team of cyborgs headed their way. Perhaps he should wait until backup arrived, but this was personal.
Fuck with Illumina, you deal with me.

His opponent might stick around to fight some more, but the smarter move would be to leave the ship, lay low until he recovered his strength, and then mount a new assault. Except Alonio didn’t think rationally—he’d already proven his willingness to sacrifice his life if it meant Illumina would die.

Dale would sacrifice his life if it meant she would live.

What would the unpredictable Faria do? Would he fight or flee?

A guess and a gamble. If he went straight to the pod assuming the asshole had chosen to flee, but the Faria had opted to fight, Alonio might double back and go after Illumina. If he acted on the assumption Alonio would fight and he turned the ship inside out looking for him, but the Faria had fled, he would get away, and they’d be forced to deal with him later.

Search the ship or head off the escape? Emergency bay, he decided. If Illumina had done as Dale had told her, she should be safe.

Stay on the bridge
, he transmitted to Illumina.

Silence.

Illumina!
Blood pressured spiked
.
Why wasn’t she answering? Dale didn’t think her ex could break into the cockpit. He hadn’t thought he could get on Deceptio, either. What if Alonio had gotten to the bridge? What if the door melted under a fireball? Or what if Alonio created an electronic zapper to fry the computer circuits?

Illumina! Are you all right?

No answer. Forget the emergency bay, forget searching the ship. He pivoted to check on her.

She marched toward him. “I’m here,” she said.

Why did women never do what you told them to? “You were supposed to stay on the bridge.” How could he keep her safe if she was running around the ship?

“Alonio’s getting away. I saw him on the monitor,” she said. “He’s in the emergency bay. He’s trying to break into your escape pod. I tried to contact you, but I couldn’t get through. By the time I heard you calling, I was already here.”

His fault. He’d blocked her so he could focus, wouldn’t be distracted by her distress. “It’s still not safe. Go back to the bridge,” he ordered, and ran for the emergency bay.

Through the door’s viewing window, he spied Alonio, singed wings drooping, entering codes into the spacepod’s keypad.