Cold and hard as space, it cut through the tension in the corridor like a whip. “That’s a question I’d very much like answering as well, Corporal Hawkins.”
The marine squad tensed en masse. Their eyes were all dead center, watching the two cyborgs, but Lyon could tell their attention wasn’t actually on them. Instead it was riveted to the slender man in a Fleet Captain’s uniform walking down the corridor behind them.
Captain Marisol–Lees. The guy in charge of the ship. He looked younger than Lyon had expected. His face was unlined and his longer than regulation dark hair didn’t show any hint of gray.
The captain reached the back of the squad, which parted like water to let him pass.
Lyon took advantage of the distraction, grabbed Samara and shoved her behind him, holding her in place with a hard hand on her wrist.
“I’m sure you’re not trying to inflame the situation here solely over your…dislike of cyborgs. Are you, Corporal?”
Hawkins’ gaze shifted sideways to his superior officer. The agony of indecision was written on his face as his eyes flicked between the cyborgs and the captain.
“Because in case you hadn’t noticed, they do have a hostage…”
Samara, who’d been busy trying to prize Lyon’s grip from her wrist, looked up and waved helpfully. Lyon resisted the urge to close his eyes and shake his head. Game face on, he smiled tightly at the captain. “That’s not all. Cael, drop the mute.”
A dry, measured tone filled the air in the corridor; the sound of the ship’s computer.
“Self-destruct sequence initiated… Three minutes, twenty-four seconds to self- destruct.”
The announcement dropped into a silence so complete Lyon was surprised tumbleweeds didn’t roll past. It was a desolate wasteland of soundlessness as Captain Marisol–Lees fixed Lyon with a steely gaze.
“Well played, Colonel.” A wry grin twisting his lips, the captain inclined his head.
A lock of dark hair fell over one eye. “Now what do I have to give you in exchange for the release of my ship?”
Lyon didn’t let any hint of his surprise show on his face at being referred to by his rank. His files would be sealed; Combined Fleet Command didn’t like people having access to the complete FUBAR they’d made of the cyborg project, so Marisol–Lees wouldn’t have seen that. Which left the only other option… He could read the code on Lyon’s cheek.
He let the silence stretch out. Next to the captain, Hawkins was going redder and redder.
Wonder if his head will actually explode? Archon mused over the commlink. Can I shoot him?
Lyon almost squawked, but managed to hold it in. They were both trying to drive him nuts. No, you cannot shoot him. We’re in a corridor with eight heavily armed marines, and one rifle between us.
“For a Fleetie, you’re very well informed, Captain.”
Despite his dislike of most humans, he had to give credit where credit was due. Besides, there was something about the man. He had a no-bullshit, cut-right-to-the-chase attitude that appealed to Lyon. Had circumstances been different, he was the sort of guy Lyon would have tried to build a friendship with.
I’ve got a rubber band and a paperclip in my pocket, if that helps?
Archon?
Yeah?
Shut up.
The human smiled. “Thank you. However, you haven’t answered my question. I do apologize for pushing you…but time’s a-ticking.”
Lyon opened his mouth. The usual demands for weapons and supplies hovered on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t ask for any of them, even though Redemption Bay was like a black hole for such supplies. Instead the words that came out his mouth surprised him as much as it did everyone else.
“Her,” he said, pulling Samara around into view. “I want her.”
Lyon ignored her outraged gasp, his attention on the captain.
“Two minutes, thirty-five seconds to self-destruct,” the computer reminded them. Marisol–Lees’ dark-eyed gaze flicked from him to the petite woman next to him and back again. Cold calculation showed in his eyes.
“Just her? Nothing else? You’ll relinquish control of the ship. No…hidden surprises?”
Lyon shook his head. “Nothing. We’ll leave you in peace.”
“Done. Hawkins, stand down. Let these people leave.”
“Excellent, pleasure doing business with you, Captain. Have a nice day,” he added, starting to walk toward the hatch as the marines backed up.
“You can’t do this!” Samara blurted out, seeming to regain her voice as he tugged her toward the boarding access and, beyond it, his ship.
He couldn’t wait to get her aboard. The first thing he planned to do was hole up in his quarters for…oh, a month? Yeah, a month should be long enough. Maybe.
He stopped so suddenly she ran straight into his back. Looking over his shoulder, he ignored the quick smirk that ghosted over Marisol–Lees’ face.
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
“This is kidnapping!”
His eyebrow lifted slightly. “Your point?”
Hawkins chose that moment to pipe up. “With all due respect, Sir. Are you just going to let these filthy creatures take her? She’s human, for crying out loud, she doesn’t deserve this.”
Can I shoot him now? Archon begged. Plllllllease?!
Before the captain could say anything Samara rounded on the corporal. “Filthy creatures? How dare you? At least they don’t sleep around…yeah, I know all about you and Jessica. And Annette…or was Amanda before Annette?” She smiled sweetly. “Just tell the girls you sleep with you’ve got an STD, would you, sweetheart? Makes it so much easier to treat.”
Oh. Crash and burn, baby. She’s good. Can we keep her?
Hawkins went red and started to make a strange spluttering sound as the captain choked. Lyon didn’t know whether it was a sound of outrage or suppressed amusement, but he didn’t hang around to find out. In one swift move, he leaned down and threw her over his shoulder.
Ignoring her shriek of outrage, he headed for the boarding hatch before either she or Archon could say anything else and screw the situation up any more than it was already.
“Cael, get us ready to move and cancel the self-destruct.” He clambered through the boarding tube with an ease that belied the fact he was carrying a wriggling, shrieking wildcat.
“Archon!” he bellowed, suddenly becoming aware that the Gemini hadn’t followed him. “Stop antagonizing the humans and get your butt in here!”
Aye, Colonel, just…dealing with something. Be there in a moment. Archon’s voice was full of the sort of amusement that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Usually that meant Archon was up to no good. A fact that was borne out as he dropped into the main section of the shuttle to find both Cael and Eoin suddenly very busy and avoiding his gaze.
Dumping Samara into one of the passenger seats, he fixed her with a steely look.
“Stay, or I’ll cuff you to it.”
He straightened and looked at the other two cyborgs. The sound of the human ship’s internal defenses firing echoed through the boarding tube at the same moment Archon dropped through it, a smirk on his face.
“Right. Out with it,” he demanded over the sound of the boarding mechanism closing up and retracting. Within a heartbeat, the small shuttle lurched as Cael gunned the engines. With the Valkyrie back under her crew’s control, they needed to be gone.
Fast.
“What? I didn’t do a thing. Honest.”
Archon tried an innocent look, which didn’t wash with Lyon. He’d known the Gemini virtually since he’d been pulled from his tank. There wasn’t an innocent bone in his body.
He sighed. He’d heard the ship’s internal defenses. Defenses Archon had no control over. That was Archon through and through. Why do something yourself when you could get someone else to do the dirty work?
“Cael? What did this POS promise you?”
“A box of Helarian chocolates and a foot massage,” she replied promptly.
“And what did you do?”
“Shot that corporal in the ass.”
Chapter Five
Samara couldn’t help herself. She giggled. Although, to be fair, it was more of a snort than a giggle. Her mother always said she sounded like a cross between a horse and a donkey when she laughed.
She couldn’t help it though. Despite the fact that, for all intents and purposes, she’d just been kidnapped by a group of cyborgs, hearing that that Corporal Hawkins had been shot in the ass just did it for her.
The giggle looped and became unstoppable. Hilarity filled her until tears streamed down her cheeks and she was holding her sides to stop them from aching.
Two sets of eyes—one green and one brown—looked at her in concern. Samara couldn’t do anything but laugh back at them, amused afresh that they were so concerned about her after they’d kidnapped her.
“Is she all right?” Archon frowned, the big man looking to his bigger commander in concern. “Won’t she bust a blood vessel or something like that?”
Lyon shrugged, a look of bewilderment on his face she found intensely amusing.
“How the hell should I know? I’m not an expert on human physiology.”
“She shouldn’t be that shade of red, surely?”
Samara flopped sideways onto the seat next to her, until she was lying on her side, and howled. She’d never found anything so hilarious in her life. In the back of her mind she knew it was a stress reaction. She’d been kidnapped and rather than freak out, her twisted mind had decided to find it funny instead.
“She’s hysterical. We should slap her out of it,” Archon announced. “Should I slap her?”
“No!” Samara and Lyon announced at the same time, the latter with a glare that would have frozen the blood in the smaller cyborg’s veins. Had he actually been looking, that was. Instead he pouted and flounced off to the other side of the cabin to fling himself onto the opposite row of bench seats like a sulky teenager.
“I never get any fun!”
“Oh, how old are you? Bloody grow up.”
She shook her head and sat up, straightening her clothes and rubbing at her aching cheeks. She hadn’t laughed like that for years. But then, she hadn’t been kidnapped or encountered a more stressful situation than running out of pre-packed dressings in the five years she’d been in the service.
Lyon huffed and nodded. “Yeah, what she said.”
She rounded on him next, her freaking-out-fueled amusement replaced by fury. The look in her eyes hard, she swooped in like a Valkyrie of legend to stab a finger into the center of his broad chest.
“And you can be quiet, Mr. I kidnap people without so much as a by-your-leave.
How dare you just yank me off my ship without even asking?”
“Hmmm. I did ask.”
“Not. Me!”
He lifted an eyebrow, which only increased Samara’s ire. Did he only have like…three facial expressions or something?
“Yeah, boss. You need to brush up on your seduction technique. The ladies do like to be asked…” Archon, busy studying under his fingernails, drawled.