Read Drifters' Alliance, Book 3 Online

Authors: Elle Casey

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Space Opera

Drifters' Alliance, Book 3 (23 page)

BOOK: Drifters' Alliance, Book 3
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I go back to Tremblay. “So … here’s what I need to know.” I step closer and point my knife at his junk. “How did you hear about the disk and what were you planning on doing with it? And if it was so important to you, why’d you leave it on my ship?”

He looks up really fast. “That’s it?”

Now it’s my turn to look confused. “What do you mean,
that’s it
?”

“That’s all you want to know?” He shakes his head with his eyes closed for a second and then he opens them again.

He’s laughing at me, I know he is, but I cannot figure out why.
Dammit!
I hate being in the dark with a guy like him in charge of the lights.

“Well, hell, why didn’t you say so, girlie? I’ll tell you what you wanna know. I heard about that disk from that kid. Germanic twerp. Can’t keep his damn trap shut, know what I mean?” His tone goes high as he mimics Jens. “I’m an engineer. Youngest engineer in the galaxy. Best one you ever saw. I’ve got a technology that can control the entire OSG.” He laughs. “I’ll tell you what … I wasn’t listening to a damn thing he was saying until that little nugget filtered in, know what I mean?” He shrugs. “Dumbass kid. All it took was a few drinks and a dare and he was flashing that thing all over the place. It was like taking candy from a baby.”

“What was your plan, Tremblay? What were you going to do with it?”

He shrugs. “Sell it.”

“To whom?”

He shrugs again. “Highest bidder.”

“Have anyone in mind?”

He purses his lips before he answers, so I know before he even opens his mouth that he’s bullshitting me. “Don’t know. Figured I’d find someone.”

I take in a deep breath and let it out. I’m opening my mouth to ask another question when a sound comes over my receiver.

“We’ve got OSG in the house,” Gus says, speaking quickly and low, like he’s hiding while he talks. “Do you hear me, Captain Kickass? OSG is boarding our boat. I tried to keep ‘em off, but they’re saying they have to do an inspection. They won’t say what they’re looking for, though, bloody bastards.”

I look over at Baebong who’s in the alcove by the portal to make sure he heard it too. He nods.

“Go take care of it,” I say to him.

Baebong leaves, but not before shooting me a totally confused look. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to explain to him what I meant — that I want him on that ship and handling things. I hope he figures it out because I have a feeling we’re going to be leaving this station in a hurry.

I go back to Tremblay. “What about Macon? What part of the plan did he play?”

“Bacon?” Tremblay narrows his eyes at me. “What’s bacon got to do with anything?”

I hiss out my frustration. “Rollo, dammit. The guy
Rollo
you were working with. And Captain Bob.”

He shakes his head. “Nobodies. Dummies,
obviously
, since you’re standing here and not floatin’ and bloatin’.” He chuckles at his lame poetry.

“We need to go,” Alana says.

I take another step toward Tremblay, knowing this is my last shot to get any information out of him. I just wish I knew what that information was … the thing he was so worried about telling me.

“Was the game fixed?” I ask, moving the knife ever lower, until it’s touching the edge of his pants that cover his most precious jewels.

His voice comes out in puffs of worried breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks from the knife to my face and back to the knife again. He tries to shrink away, but he’s got nowhere to go.

“Make no mistake,” I say, pressing my blade into the material of his pants a little. “I will cut you and feel not a single moment of regret. I will leave you nutless and not spare a single
second
of worry for you, bleeding between your legs like a stuck pig and tied to this chair, all alone in this room.” I glance up at the girls before I fix him with my empty, assassin’s stare. “I’m taking these whores with me, old man. They aren’t going to help you.”

A weird animal noise comes out of his throat and then he talks through tears. “I’m afraid you’re really gonna do it.”

I push the blade in until it touches skin. I know exactly when I prick him because he screams like a little girl.

“Okay! Okay! It’s Redmond, alright? Redmond! Redmond fixed it! I don’t know why!”

A banging sound comes from the door behind me. Alana rushes over, checks who it is, and throws it open. Jeffers is there looking like some kind of avenging angel with his arms held out and his long linen sleeves hanging below. “We have to go now. Now, Cass, now!”

I lean into Tremblay’s face and yell, “Who’s Redmond?!”

He looks up at me with tears in his eyes, his face bright red. “You really are a crazy bitch, aren’t you?”

I punch him in the jaw, knocking him out cold, and let Jeffers drag me away.
 

The last thing I see is Alana watching me stumble out the door, a mix of revulsion and admiration all over her face.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“YOU HAD TO CUT HIM?” Jeffers is running, his hand on my elbow as he drags me along.

“I didn’t like doing it. It was necessary.” I’m coming back from the fog that was enveloping me — the thing making it possible for me to watch what I was doing almost as a bystander. “He said something about Redmond fixing the givit game. Does that name ring a bell with you?”

“Redmond? No. I don’t know any Redmond. Is it a first name or a last?”

“I have no idea.”

“Down here,” Jeffers says, pulling me toward a stairway that angles steeply down to the fourth level.

“Where are we going?” I pull my arm from his grasp so I can run properly. The corridors are starting to fill with people, making it harder to be side-by-side.

“Back to the dock. But we’re going to use the service entrances utilized by catering to get closer to our spot.”

“Where’s Baebong?” I ask, hoping he and Jeffers have been in communication.

“Hopefully at the ship. Wasn’t he with you?”

“Yes, but he left when we got the message that the ship was being boarded by the OSG.”

“The comm went down after that. I haven’t gotten anything since,” Jeffers says. “But if they’re coming onto the ship, that means they’re looking for you.”

“They could be just doing an inspection,” I say, my excuse sounding lame to my own ears.

“Doubtful.”

We reach a door that’s marked as catering staff only. The hallway is empty. “Where do we go from here?” I ask, suddenly nervous. The weird high I was on while getting info from Tremblay is completely gone as I consider that I could have gone through all of this only to find myself arrested at the station by OSG officials who want to know how I managed to knock an entire warship on its ass in one fell swoop.
Goodbye frying pan, hello fire.

“Through the center of the kitchens, out the main door, through the attached restaurant, and then to the southern hub. Take the third spoke from the right and follow it to the dock. Don’t stop, don’t talk to anyone, and don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

He sighs. “Do your best to be invisible.”

“Aren’t you going with me?” I grab onto Jeffers’s arm, suddenly desperate about losing him.

“I think we’ll have a better chance of getting to where we need to be if we split up. Two people moving call more attention than individuals.”

I know he’s right, but it doesn’t stop me from panicking. “Jeffers, I just want you to know that it’s been a pleasure having you on my crew.”

He smiles. “Does this mean you’re saying goodbye? I hope not, because I signed that blood contract just today.”

“What if they grab you? Or me?”

He pats my cheek. “I’m not going to go down that easy, and I can’t imagine you are either.”

I nod, holding his hand to my face for just two seconds before letting it go. “Good luck, Jeffers. See you at the ship.”

“Yes. See you at the ship.” He pushes me through the door and it slams shut behind me.

Chapter Thirty-Six

AT FIRST I DON’T REGISTER the familiarity of the face before me. I’m not two steps into the kitchen, and suddenly he’s there. Staring at me, less than a meter away.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here.”

I frown at the voice. Then it hits me. “Langlade?”

His arms lower to his sides, and I see the gesture for the battle-ready stance that it is. “Yes. And you’re the little bitch who stole my ship.”

I move to go around him. I don’t have time for sore losers right now. I’ll teach him a lesson another day. “Get out of my way, asshole.”

He grabs me by the shoulder as I try to walk by. “Not so fast. I have a few things to say to you.”

“Not
now
, I said.” I grab his hand off my shoulder and twist his arm up behind him. Shoving him into the nearest prep table causes all kinds of pots and pans to crash to the floor.
So much for being invisible.
Several people turn around to see what’s going on and then just as quickly go back to what they’re doing.
Smart. Don’t get involved.
The first rule of survival out in the Dark, lucky for me.

“Let go of me,” he growls, trying to twist out of my grip.

Each time he attempts it, though, he makes it worse for himself. I increase the angle of attack and whisper loudly in his ear. “I’d really love to have this conversation with you right now, sore loser, but unfortunately, I have the OSG up my ass and a few other little messes to clean up, so it’s going to have to wait for another time and another place.”

“I’m not a sore loser! You rigged that game! I want my ship back!”

I jerk his arm up higher, making him cry out in pain. “No, I didn’t! I never cheat! Ever. Someone else might have rigged it, though. Ask your friend Tremblay.” I shove him away from me, and he falls to his knees. He slouches over as he cradles his arm to his chest.

“Tremblay?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at me. “What’s he got to do with the game?”

“I wish I knew,” I say, glancing back at him one more time before I leave him there. “Ask him about Redmond. Maybe that’ll clear it up.”

I only catch a confused expression on his face before I’m running out of there.

“Redmond who?” he shouts. “Redmond Kennedy?”

I trip as the name hits my ears, but I right myself and keep going rather than stop to ask for more detail. People jump to get out of my way and more than a few trays of food hit the dirt before I’m out in the restaurant proper.
Did he really say Kennedy? Holy shit. What in the hell does that mean?

I slow down to a fast walk and keep my eyes on the ground, trying to avoid making a scene. Unfortunately not just one, but two waiters walk right into my path and force me to take them out one at a time; one with a gut punch and one with a shot to the Adam’s apple. I’m out the front doors before anyone even has time to go to their rescue.
Redmond Kennedy … Redmond Kennedy … have I heard that name before?
Something is tickling the back of my mind, but I can’t bring it to the front. Then the crowds get too thick for me and focus on both that and not tackling people, so I let it drop. I’ll worry about that another time when I’m not trying to save my own ass.

I jog to the hub Jeffers told me about and raise my hand to my mouth, thumb to palm, activating my comm unit. “Yo, Gus, you there?”

All I get is dead air. I take the third spoke from the right and run around groups of people talking amongst themselves, dodging left and right, reminding myself of training modules where we were forced to run around obstacles that sometimes reached out and grabbed us and slammed us onto the ground. I’m totally hyped. I pity the fool who tries to take me down right now.

I try my comm device again. “Bae? You out there?”

I bump into a guy carrying a box, and he drops it, yelling at my back as I push through the crowd in front of me. I’m gone before he can grab me and make me answer for my rudeness.
Sorry, dude, but my DS is about to turn back into a pumpkin.
As I get closer to the dock, the shoving I have to do in order to continue forward progress is less and less remarkable. It’s busy in here tonight, with everyone acting like they have somewhere special to be, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Not until the giant magnoscreens start flashing an all-station alert.

The monotone, computerized voice accompanying the vision of two warships hovering outside the station is as ominous as the image itself.

“Attention. Attention. The Omega Systems Group requests that all personnel report to their duty stations immediately. All visitors, please return to your ships. Residents, please return to your units.” There’s a pause and then it starts again. “Attention. Attention. The Omega Systems Group requests …”

I block out the rest of the transmission. In all my nineteen years, I have never taken part in an actual station takeover. I’ve drilled for it, of course, but never as a station visitor. I was always the one standing by on the warship outside, huffing and puffing and threatening to blow the station down.

Panic rises up in my chest, and I can tell I’m not the only one suffering it. Everyone around me is freaking out to some degree. Some to a pretty high level, and others just to the point of annoyed curiosity. Me, I just want to get the hell out of here with my crew onboard and the information I’ve gleaned, so I can deliver it to the Alliance and figure out our next move.

So, what are the chances that I’ll slip off the dock and out of the exit bay without entering into a conversation with a warship?
Probably not very good.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

I REACH THE DOCK AND find myself in the middle of a throng of people, all of whom are trying to reach their ships attached to the pedestrian tunnels at the same time. There are also several OSG personnel in full battle dress uniforms, weapons at the ready, their eyes searching the crowd for something … or someone.

“Report to your ships, people,” one of them is yelling. He pauses as he receives some sort of transmission, and then he scans the crowd. His eyes land on me, and then he’s talking more hurriedly to whoever is on the other end of his comm, moving in my direction as he nods.

“Oh, hell no,” I say mostly to myself.
I guess it’s me they’re looking for. Just my luck.

BOOK: Drifters' Alliance, Book 3
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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