Rystani Warrior 04 - The Quest (19 page)

THE LAY DOWN EASY looked and felt like Kirek expected—with one exception. Dim lighting, dancing men and women, an assortment of humanoids and beings from other sectors, harsh music, greasy food, and watered-down drinks seemed standard fare for seedy gambling establishments. However, usually Kirek could use his psi to alter the machines to pay out in his favor. Although his psi might not have recovered enough to overcome the computer locks’ resistance, he was picking up unusual shielding or dampeners that made his psi feel as if he were reaching through a dense black fog.

Following their plan, Angel strode in ahead of him, invited herself into a card game, and proceeded to pretend she didn’t know Kirek. One handsome and dangerous-looking player moved his chips over to make room for her and shot her an engaging smile of welcome. Kirek refrained from bristling and told himself that the sexy grin Angel returned was all for show.

Their walk into The Peel had been so ordinary and free of conflict that he’d wondered if Angel had exaggerated the dangers, but after two gorgeous redheads approached him, and Angel stood and glared until they backed away, he realized she’d been protecting him from robbery by her presence alone, just as she’d claimed.

Kirek couldn’t deny she fit into the card game with an easy camaraderie that suggested she’d played in many places as disreputable as
the Lay Down Easy. With a stack of credit chips at one hand, a drink in the other, Angel played with confidence. However, she multi-tasked, her gaze raking the entire scene, conscious of every moment. He had no doubt that if any mercs approached, she would make her presence known.

Leaning back against a wall, Kirek watched the front doors, awaiting the arrival of his contact, Vee. Since Vee typically used a prearranged drop and this was their first meet in the flesh, Kirek shifted impatiently, wondering why the mode of operation had changed. Uninformed if Vee was a man or a woman or even a non-humanoid, he surveyed the occupants with care, wondering if Vee could have arrived even earlier than they had.

Kirek’s instruction had been clear—Vee would find him. Kirek felt as if he was wearing a target on his chest as he waited for a stranger to approach. Several did, but they kept walking by, not giving him a second glance.

For a long thirty Federation minutes, no one except the bar bot approached. Angel used the time to chat, to drink, and to play a few hands. She neither won nor lost a huge amount of chips, playing patiently. Her gaze frequently slid over him but never stopped.

Kirek’s psi itched near his nape, and as he reached up to knead out some tension a curtain behind the stage moved. He narrowed his gaze, tightened his muscles, and held his breath, waiting to see who might suddenly appear—because the comic performer wasn’t due to start his gig for another hour.

Lights dimmed even further, and the music changed to an upbeat drum tempo. A hush fell over the room.

The curtains parted and women, men, and several tiny sequined birds gyrated and flew across the stage in a swirling array of sparkling costumes, toned flesh, gliding feet, and flapping wings. Far from the stage, in the darkness, Kirek tensed at the unscheduled performance. As the dancers made a side exit and left the stage, zigzagging across the room and into the audience, he merged deeper into the shadows and kept his eyes away from the bright spotlights.

Under the cover of the commotion, he spied a humanoid shadow approaching and wondered if his contact had arranged the distraction to divert any curious eyes from his own entrance.

A raspy voice whispered out of the darkness. “Kirek?”

“Vee?”

“You have the credits?” The stranger kept his head down, and Kirek couldn’t see his face.

“You have the information?” he countered.

Vee reached into his jacket. “Let’s do this fast. I may have been followed.”

“Followed by whom?” Kirek asked.

Before Vee answered or withdrew his hand, dancers lunged toward them, their speed quick due to their athletic limbs and the coordinated manipulation of their suits. At the same time, exterior doors opened, and several Kraj entered, their stunners drawn.

Kirek’s muscles tensed, ready for action as he assessed his options. He heard metal clunk and roll, and out of his peripheral vision he spied a grenade rolling toward him. Then a second grenade launched his way, signaling a full-fledged, coordinated attack. One grenade popped early, its flare inciting a riot.

Amid screams and shouts, those patrons who weren’t caught in the grenade’s devastating blast bolted for the exits. In their panic, they shoved into the Kraj, pushing them backward, delaying their arrival, and preventing their shots from hitting their target—him. Random shooting broke out. Blasters, stunners, and projectile weapons flashed, flared, and roared. Terrified customers stampeded for every exit, knocking over other beings, tables, and gambling machines.

With Kraj obstructing the egress and grenades rolling his way, Kirek glanced toward Angel. She was already halfway across the room, lunging toward him, but there were lots of bodies in her way. An overhead stage light caught her face in its sweeping beam and showed her mask of concentration and fear as
she shoved between patrons.

Kirek couldn’t remain where he was without risking his brain cells to the effects of the grenades. He grabbed Vee, his intention to employ his psi’s null grav to lift them over the heads of the oncoming dancers. But his psi didn’t work. The dampeners that he’d noted earlier seemed to blanket and dull his energy. He tried to use his com to contact Angel and wasn’t surprised to find it jammed.

Kirek cursed and kicked a grenade toward the Kraj. Beside him, Vee yelped and then shuddered to the floor. He didn’t move again.

Ducking, Kirek kneeled beside the fallen man, whose face was lit up by the fire of nearby stunners. Blank eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

Just to be certain Vee was dead, Kirek placed his fingers on Vee’s neck in search of a pulse and found none. He swore softly. Had Vee taken a hit meant for him? Or did he have enemies of his own?

Either way, Kirek needed the location of the portal that could sling the
Raven
into the Andromeda Galaxy. Without the intel, he couldn’t stop the Zin.

He picked up another grenade and lobbed it toward the empty stage then took precious seconds to search Vee’s jacket. When his fingers found an intel disc, he shoved it into his own suit, praying it contained the portal’s location. Kirek was about to stand when Angel rolled toward him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I had to toss in a royal flush,” she muttered.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Damn right you will.” She took cover behind an upended table. “We need to find a way out the back.”

Kirek raised his stunner. “I’ll cover you. Go.”

Angel ducked right, left, and slammed right into a Kraj. Fearful that the alien would kill her, Kirek’s heart jammed up into his throat. Kirek took the only shot open to him, a head shot. He hit his target, and the big alien almost fell on top of her, but she dodged and squirmed forward through the mass of bodies, not wasting a moment or even waiting until the stunned Kraj struck the floor.

Adrenaline surging, Kirek hurried to follow, his feet kicking away another grenade even as he shifted left and used a knife-hand strike against a female attacker’s throat. He’d never downed a woman before, but she’d given him no choice.

He had no time for regrets, not with the Kraj advancing and Angel sprinting backstage. With her slender frame, she’d woven through the crowd more easily than he could. He barely kept up as he avoided another attack, this time from a tiny bird that seemed intent on aiming for his eyes.

Agel had moved so fast, she was now out of sight. Taking four steps at a time, Kirek raced behind the curtain to catch sight of Angel at the far end of the building—in hand-to-hand combat with two redheads: Heart ramming in his chest, sweat pouring from his cells, he lunged forward and simultaneously tried to steady his blaster, waiting for a clear shot. But the women were too close together for him to risk shooting.

As he neared, he watched Angel pull her blaster, jam it against one woman’s stomach. Her other opponent attempted to knock away the weapon, but Angel got off a shot. Then she spun and drop-kicked the second woman in the chest, and Angel’s attacker collapsed into a moan.

“Nice move.” He finally caught up with her and assessed her injuries. She sported a bruise by one eye and a few scratches on her forearm but otherwise, she looked good. Better than good. Her eyes danced and sparkled as if she was having the time of her life. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her she’d better not scare him like that again.

Angel glanced at him, barely breathing hard, and gestured toward a rear exit where a Kraj guarded the door. “Try to keep up.”

“Don’t run,” he ordered.

“Excuse me?”

“Running out of this building will attract attention.”

“Kirek, a hundred people must have just fled this building. We’re hardly going to stick out—”

“The crowd’s gone. Kraj are hunting. We need to sneak out without the Kraj spotting and shooting us. I’d like to find a com that works.”

Angel grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the side wall and behind some props. “What do you mean a com that works?”

“A jamming device is blocking my com and my psi. Can’t you feel it?”

“I do have a headache. I thought it was from the smoke.” Angel changed a setting on her grenade launcher. “Stand back and use your vision filters.”

A second later, she blew a hole in the side of the building big enough for them to crawl through. Outside, a corridor led past garbage into an alley with several locked doors. From the alley he could see that it eventually widened into a larger passageway. From the shouts and screams behind and ahead, he suspected the Kraj were shooting bystanders.

They had to get off public roads and sidewalks. Angel tried the first door on the right. “Locked.”

He tried the next. “Locked again.”

By the last door, he heard a skimmer hovering at the end of the alley. Time was running out. Kirek used his foot to break the lock. Luckily the old rusty hinge broke on his third kick.

He stepped into the rear of a store filled with baskets, plants, and herbs. A pink-skinned man, a terrified blue-haired woman, and an equally frightened child stared at him. The tiny woman screamed and grabbed her toddler, who burst into tears. Angel stepped past the broken door, and Kirek held it open to keep it from falling on her then propped it back in place as best he could.

When he turned around, the man held a shaking blaster aimed at Kirek’s chest. Advancing, Angel bumped into Kirek’s back, but he braced, keeping her behind him.

The man gestured for his wife to take the child to another room but didn’t take his gaze from Kirek. “Don’t move.”

Kirek strengthened his psi shield, noting the dampening had dissipated, but was not yet gone. “We mean you no harm. If you hide us, I’ll pay you well.”

“I’ll call the authorities,” the woman whined. Her child continued to scream. “Stun them so they can’t run away. Maybe we can collect a reward for their capture.”

Outside the skimmer roared to a stop. Booted feet marched down the corridor.

“Please.” Angel stepped out from behind Kirek and pointed at him. “This man wants to make me his slave. If you turn us over to the botcops, he’ll pay a fine, and I’ll disappear forever.”

Kirek’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. Where did she come up with such stories? Was she trying to make the man shoot him? Already frightened, now doubly suspicious, the man’s shocked gaze scowled at Kirek.

Angel sidled over to the woman. “Please, let me scoot out the front door and be on my way.”

The man held the gun on Kirek. He paid no attention at all to Angel. With her swollen eye and the way she hunched her shoulders, she looked harmless, beaten, scared. She slipped behind the woman. In one swift move, she pulled her blaster and placed it to the woman’s temple.

“Drop your weapon,” she ordered the man. Stunned by the sudden turn of events, the man dropped the gun. Kirek scooped it up.

Angel pulled the woman and crying child with her toward a closet while instructing the husband, “Tell anyone who asks that we ran through the store and you want to know who is going to pay for the damage. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do as she says, and your wife and child will come to no harm,” Kirek’s tone was kind.

Angel glared. “One wrong word and I’ll roast them both. Got it?”

“Yes.”

Kirek didn’t approve of Angel’s tactics. The man shook so hard, Kirek doubted he could stammer a cohesive sentence. The woman kept screaming, and the kid cried, too.

Angel dragged them into the closet. “Shut up, lady. Keep the kid quiet or I’ll stun you both.”

Boots outside skidded to a halt. Rough voices shouted. “They blasted through this wall. Kicked open that door. Let’s go.”

Heart pounding, Kirek hid behind a pallet of crates. He didn’t like putting an innocent family in danger, and yet he understood that during war, civilians often got hurt. Reminding himself that the Zin had killed billions of beings on Zenon didn’t make it right for them to terrorize this family
…
and yet, if they didn’t survive to confront the Zin, the fate of the galaxy could be at stake.

However, the terror in the mother’s eyes stabbed him with guilt. While Angel wouldn’t hurt the mother or the baby, she’d played her part well, looking fierce and angry and desperate.