The Tracker's Dilemma: (A Mandrake Company Science Fiction Romance) (14 page)

Based on what Lauren had been reading at the end of her computer investigation, Tick thought her sister might have discovered a little more than seeds, but he did not naysay Hazel.

“The sky is clear of enemies, and they haven’t harassed our shuttles,” Mandrake said, walking back inside, lowering his hand from his comm-patch. “Dr. Keys, did you get a chance to study the computer files?”

Mandrake’s gaze flicked toward Tick, a slight warning in his green eyes. Was he worried that he’d been up here distracting Lauren? The man saw too much for a mercenary. Or maybe Tick was simply feeling guilty, since he
had
been distracting her.

Lauren glanced at her sister, who was frowning at her. “I perused them, Captain. This greenhouse is a mostly automated station for growing experimental varieties of edible plants, nothing more as far as I could tell.”

Ms. Keys’ frown faded, and she relaxed an iota. She probably thought Lauren hadn’t found what she had been studying. Good, Tick supposed, but he hoped Lauren would share her suppositions with the captain. Otherwise, Tick would have to, and he wasn’t sure he really understood what she had been excited about—since it clearly hadn’t been him.

“I could have guessed that,” Mandrake said.

Lauren gazed blandly back at him.

“Let’s move out,” Mandrake said, waving for the men to follow him.

Tick was tempted to linger and walk with Lauren, but she might have had enough of him already. She did not nod to him or even look at him as they strode out of the cave. He decided to give her some space and, instead, walked next to the captain. Maybe he could find a moment later to apologize to her for… presuming.

Mandrake set a rapid pace back toward the shuttles, almost running. Tick looked at his face, wondering if Ankari had delivered bad news. He almost tripped as a flash of insight came to him, this time a look into Mandrake’s thoughts. Ankari had been fine when she’d spoken to him, but Striker and the others hadn’t returned, and Jamie’s sensors had spotted another ship flying over the canyon, as if in a search pattern. Mandrake was worried that something would happen to them—to
Ankari
—before he returned to protect her. He seemed to believe his fear wasn’t that rational, since she could take care of herself, and the three combat shuttles were not helpless vessels adrift on a sea, but he still worried, feeling a fierce protectiveness toward Ankari. Protectiveness and love.

Tick turned his head, trying to shift his focus toward the trees around them, on anything except reading his captain’s thoughts. They weren’t surprising—though he supposed a part of him never would have guessed Mandrake could feel something so intense as love—but it was like watching two people kiss, an intrusion on their intimacy. It made him uncomfortable. How come he couldn’t have had an insight into Ms. Keys’ mind instead? They would all be better off if they knew more about what she was thinking. Maybe he could try later to better direct his new—he hated to call them powers—abilities.

A niggling sense came over Tick, making him look upward. There was nothing visible except the damp green canopy of leaves, but with his mind’s eye, he saw the black ship Hazel had described. As Ankari had reported, it continued to fly back and forth over the canyon. The captain was heading for a clearing up ahead, and Tick envisioned him coming out from under the tree cover at the same time as the craft flew overhead. Amazingly, Tick hadn’t heard it yet. Was it possible they were turning their engines off as they glided over the canyon, then igniting them again before they lost velocity?

A question for later. For now, he rushed forward, catching up with the captain just before he reached the clearing.

“Wait, sir.” Tick grabbed his arm and held up a hand toward the soldiers behind them.

Mandrake did not hesitate. He duplicated the stay-wait gesture, and everyone halted, sliding behind trees. Hazel pulled Ms. Keys behind one.

A dark shape came into view before Mandrake could ask Tick what he was up to. The ship glided past silently, black wings outstretched, the shape of its body similar to that of the bats they had fought earlier. Tick did not recognize it as one of the mass-produced ships in the system, but there were plenty of custom jobs out there, and some people designed their own craft. Bounty hunters often wanted something special, sacrificing comforts for speed and weaponry. Perhaps in this case, for silence.

Mandrake watched the ship sail past, his eyes hard. “If he’s still up there when we get back to the shuttles, we’ll blow him out of the sky.”

“Yes, sir,” Tick said. “Sounds like a reasonable plan.”

“In fact...” The captain tapped his comm-patch. “Frog? Thatcher? You two awake?”

“Of course, sir,” came Thatcher’s indignant voice. “I’m reading the latest
Journal of Interplanetary Astronautics and Flight
.”

“I’m reading Striker’s comics,” Frog said.

“I couldn’t reach either of them earlier from inside the cave,” Mandrake explained to Tick. “Thatcher, you aware of the ship cruising around up here?”

“Ms. Markovich spotted something on her sensors earlier,” Thatcher said, calling Ankari by her last name. “Our sensors aren’t reading anyone else out here now.”

“Wonderful,” Mandrake grumbled. “Put some network research on your reading list, will you? I want to know what new sensor-shrouding tech is out there that’s thwarting our scanners, scanners that are only a year old. Find out if there’s an upgrade.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But first, I want you and Frog in the air, weapons hot.”

“Do you need something blown up, sir?” Frog asked, an excitement bordering on giddiness in his voice.

“I want that black ship taken care of yesterday.”

“Understood, sir,” Thatcher said calmly at the same time as Frog cackled like a witch from a Shakespeare play. “Frog understands also,” Thatcher translated.

“I gathered.” Mandrake tapped the patch to end the conversation, then turned to the men. “Anyone with a grenade launcher is welcome to scoot out there and try to get a shot. Otherwise, we’ll wait to see if Frog and Thatcher can handle him.”

A few men trotted ahead, but most people remained in place. Nobody had pulled Lauren behind a tree, and she was gazing uneasily up through a gap in the branches. Tick didn’t know if she had seen the ship and was worried, but he jogged back to stand next to her, forgetting his intention to avoid her for a while.

“You all right?” he asked.

She frowned slightly, but said, “Yes.”

“The captain is sending our pilots up to deal with our stalker.”

“Jamie too?” Lauren’s frown turned to an expression of alarm. “My lab...”

“You’re more worried for your equipment than your friends?” he asked, more amused than affronted.

“No, of course not. Well. There
is
expensive and valuable equipment in there. But Jamie isn’t a killer. She shouldn’t be sent off to hunt some assassin, or whoever that is up there.”

“We don’t know yet. Apparently, the ship hasn’t been chatty with the captain. But no, he’s only sending Frog and Thatcher. They like blowing things up.”

“A rare quality for a Mandrake Company mercenary.”

“Indeed.”

The first shriek of laser fire sounded somewhere above the canyon, and Tick touched Lauren’s arm and pointed toward a tree. The thick trunks wouldn’t stand up to a direct hit, but they ought to provide more cover than simply standing on the path.

Lauren hesitated, but when a boom sounded, she allowed herself to be guided into the brush, leaning her back against the bark. Her hair had fallen from her bun when he had been rubbing her scalp, and it hung loosely about her shoulders now, framing her face. His gaze drifted to her lips, which were parted as she looked toward the canopy. Less than wholesome thoughts sauntered through his mind, and he shook his head, relieved that
she
couldn’t read minds. What a strange world it would be if everyone could. He thought of the emotions he’d glimpsed in Mandrake’s head, the realization that more than lust fueled his relationship with Ankari. Tick didn’t know yet if he felt more than that for Lauren, but if she let him close, he thought he could. He smiled slightly, imagining her wanting to read the “good bits” of some scientific article to a bed partner at night.

“What are you smirking about?” Lauren sounded more irritated than intrigued. Her gaze darted skyward again as another boom sounded, this one directly overhead.

“Nothing important. Sorry.” Tick glanced to the nearest trees to see if anyone was listening. Her sister was looking in their direction, but he didn’t think she was close enough to hear. “Ah, Lauren? I’m also sorry about the cave.”

Her expression closed down, her lips pressing together. In disapproval? Probably. He didn’t get any flashes of insight as to her thoughts, but he didn’t need them in this case.

“I didn’t mean to presume—I mean, I saw you rubbing your neck, and I wanted to make you feel more comfortable. That’s it.”

One of her elegant eyebrows rose. “Did you also wish to make my earlobe feel more comfortable?”

He tamped down a smirk that wanted to return—there was no humor on her face.

“No, I was just… not overcome, exactly, but I had, uhm, feelings.” Penis feelings, to be exact. He sighed, annoyed with his inability to articulate himself. Hadn’t he been bragging to her that he was well read? Or at least that he read a lot of fiction? Those dystopian survival heroes never fumbled over their words when speaking to the heroines.

“You had feelings or you expected that by doing a favor for me, I would return the favor by having coitus with you?”

“No. I mean, I didn’t
expect
it. I confess that I’m attracted to you, and there’s always… hope.”

“I see.”

“All men have that hope. All the time. With lots of women. It’s separate from feelings. I mean not always, but it’s often, uh, independent of feelings.” Could he do a worse job of explaining himself? Maybe he should just glower around, occasionally grunting, like the captain. It had worked to get him Ankari. “Like when I signed up for your trial and dropped my drawers for the, ah, application. I didn’t
expect
you to be so overcome by your attraction for me that you’d want to have sex, but a man can’t help but hope.” Because he’d been so handsome standing in her lab with his trousers around his ankles.

“Sergeant, I suggest you return to your captain. I’m sure he’s more in need of your services at this juncture than I am.”

Tick did his best not to wilt when she called him sergeant. She’d used his name earlier, damn it. And not even his nickname. His real name. The way his family once had. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that, how much he wanted someone to be close to again.

“Yes, ma’am,” he forced himself to say.

He didn’t return to the captain, instead taking up a position at a nearby tree. Even if she didn’t want to be protected by him at that moment, that wouldn’t keep him from watching over her. The sound of laser fire screeched somewhere above their heads, and Lauren gripped the tree she stood behind, leaning close to it. Yes, he would watch over her. And hope that one day, she would return to gripping
him
when she was scared.

After another boom, the smell of smoke filled the air.

“The other vessel is in retreat, Captain,” Thatcher’s voice drifted to Tick from Mandrake’s comm-patch. “Shall we pursue?”

“Yes,” Mandrake said without hesitation. “Shoot him down if you can, then come pick us up.”

“Yes, sir.”

The sky grew quiet above them, Thatcher and Frog no doubt chasing down their foe. Mandrake waved for the company to gather around him, then continued through the jungle to the landing site. It took another twenty minutes of tramping through the dense undergrowth before the pink shuttle came into view, the hull undamaged.

As Mandrake jogged up, the hatch lowered. Lauren picked up her pace, clearly eager to escape the wilderness and return to her lab. She probably wanted to escape Tick too. Maybe he should ask to ride in one of the other shuttles for the rest of the mission. No, then he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her. To protect her. He would simply keep his distance. In a few days, after they returned to the
Albatross
, he could try to find a way to make amends. Or maybe he should give up on her and wait for the day when another single woman joined the mercenary company. Not that
that
happened very often. Most of the women who did looked like Sergeant Hazel or Private Sahara, all muscles with a tough-as-titanium-nails attitude. Besides, he had grown fond of the idea of sharing a bed with Lauren and reading the good bits of his novels to her in the evenings. And hearing about the good bits in science articles.

Sighing, Tick walked to the shuttle ramp where the captain stood. He expected to be sent off to track down Hemlock and the others—he wouldn’t be surprised if Striker had managed to add himself to the docket of missing men by now.

But Striker was standing at the top of the ramp, pointing to Hemlock, Sparks, and Gavrikov, who sat inside, playing a dice game on the deck.

“Yup, they were on their way back when I found them, sir,” Striker said.

Lieutenant Sparks rose to his feet as Lauren and her sister hustled up the ramp, ducking past the men. They slipped into the lab and drew the curtain. The sound of hushed voices—arguing voices?—drifted out, but Tick couldn’t make out the words.

“You saw someone out there, Sparks?” Mandrake asked, waving toward the jungle in the opposite direction of the cave and waterfall.

“I didn’t, sir, but Hemlock did. Gavrikov thought he saw someone in dark clothing too. We split up and searched, but couldn’t find anyone. We
did
spot a ship in the distance. That’s when I silenced my comm—” Sparks gave Ankari, who had come out to listen, an apologetic nod. “We were trying to sneak in close, see if we could identify it and maybe catch the person outside. Unfortunately, it took off before we found the man. We did catch the name on the side.
Wrangler’s Wrath
.”

“
Wrangler’s Wrath
?” Tick asked. “Sounds like a vengeful cattle driver.”