Hostage To The Stars: A Sectors SF Romance (4 page)

“Do you know where she’s being held?” Johnny asked.

Tresha shook her head. “We were separated the first day, when we got here. Nice little thing, no insurance. I tried to tell the warlord a lie about her being my friend but he didn’t care.”

“Forget it, Danver, we’ve got our high value package and we’re out of here.” Scortun’s voice was low and stern. “Check the corridor. We need to move.”

Johnny gave him a considering look but took point and led the team from the palace and safely into the foothills. The two squad members who’d been on overwatch joined them. There was no sign of pursuit. Once they were about a mile from the warlord’s compound, Johnny signaled for one of the others to take point and he dropped back to where Ms. Immer trudged along in the column, wearing a pair of borrowed boots and a jacket. “Tell me more about this Sara.”

“I didn’t know her, just a passenger on the
Star Swan
, had no idea about K&R insurance or pirates. Naïve. I heard she put up a fight when the pirates grabbed her – she was bruised pretty bad the last time I saw her, before we were separated. I wouldn’t have thought she had it in her. The stewardess on the ship said she was a teacher or librarian.” Tresha paused, bending to rub her legs for a moment. “Umarri ordered me not to mention her to the negotiation team if I wanted to stay healthy so I kept my mouth shut.”

“And you have no idea what’s happened to her since the pirates took her away?”

“I told you, no. I was kept pretty busy fending off the warlord without pissing him off, if you know what I mean.” Head tilted, she gave him a flirtatious wink.

“Drop it, Danver,” said the other soldier. “We ain’t here for incidental victims. Captain told you more than once already.”

“Cut the chatter and pick up the pace.” Scortun made his way through the column. “We’re going to miss the extraction window if we don’t hustle and I’m not staying on this hellhole planet any longer than I have to. Danver, take the rearguard and quit distracting Ms. Immer.”

Johnny faded to the end of the column and kept watch on their back trail. Once the group ascended to the plateau seeking the designated landing zone, and he heard the muted sound of the incoming shuttle, he sought out the captain, crouched in the lee of a large boulder, close to Ms. Immer.

“Just fyi, I’m goin’ for the other woman,” Johnny said. “You have a nice flight home to base. Don’t forget to tell them I’m here. Good luck to you, Ms. Immer.”

“Who the hell do you think you are, sergeant?” The captain’s voice was tense and angry. “You don’t get to change mission parameters to suit yourself. I don’t care if you’re in the goddamn Special Forces or not, I gave you a direct order. We’re not going after any other civilians this trip.”

“No, you’re not, I see that.” Johnny couldn’t keep the contempt out of his voice. “In my branch of the service, we don’t leave people behind. In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m not under your command. Special Forces operates independently.”

Holding his pulse rifle where it could conveniently be considered a threat by Captain Scortun if he was feeling paranoid, Johnny backed away. None of the other soldiers wanted to challenge him.

“We’re not waiting for you,” Scortun yelled. “When our shuttle lands, we’re gone.”

“Good riddance,” he said under his breath, as he faded into the underbrush and slipped away down the steep hillside.

Johnny arrived at the warlord’s encampment for the second time about an hour before dawn. The sky was already lightening to the east as he crouched on the ridge, studying the compound through his distance viewers. There was surprisingly little activity although lights blazed on the floor where Ms. Immer had been kept captive, including in the war lord’s office. True, the sentries patrolling were exhibiting a bit more interest and thoroughness as they walked the perimeter but it appeared only a few men had been added to their ranks.

Umarri must figure we came and went, and the threat is over.
Grinning, he relished the idea of snatching yet another prize out from under the bastard’s nose.

If he left right now, he could get into the compound, but then assuming he located the other woman, it would get tricky to extract her in broad daylight. Balancing against immediate action was his concern over what might be happening to her. An angry Umarri, cheated of his big payday, might take out his rage on the other prisoner. If she was even still there. Tresha - and Sara Bridges - had been kidnapped several months ago. Negotiations had been dragging on the whole time, while apparently no one even knew Sara had also been abducted. He shifted his focus to the area of the compound where he bet prisoners were held. He’d never been to Umarri’s palace during his previous time on Farduccir, but he’d visited other men at the warlord’s level, and the houses were generally built along similar lines. The prison was a squat building with no windows and a heavy front door. There was no activity in the area at the moment. Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes and visualized the mental schematic of the place. A streambed ran along that part of the fences. He could work his way through the scrub and brush bordering the stream and then access the rear of the building unseen.

Making up his mind, Johnny descended from the plateau where he’d been hiding and proceeded to put his plan into action.

The fence behind the prison building was partially collapsed, so he had no problem making it to the wall he’d targeted. Scanning the interior, he found no indications of life. Stowing the tracker in his utilities’ pocket, he leaned against the cold bricks, weighing his course of action. Scanners had been known to be wrong before. Gear could go off grid with no notice. Pulse rifle at the ready, he crept along the wall, moving only an inch or so at a time, so as not to attract notice. There was only the one door, so when he got to the front of the building, he straightened and strolled to the entrance as if on an errand. The ambient light was gray, pre-dawn, so he might be mistaken for a local if glimpsed from a distance.

A convoy was forming in the central square of the compound, several big cargo haulers idling. Men were loading containers of varying sizes into the vehicles, coming and going from several barns or storage spaces on the other side. The workers seemed to be too busy to pay attention to him.

To his relief, the portal slid aside under his hand with no noise.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, he activated his handlamp, sweeping the room. A desk, four chairs, an inactivated com and vid console. No sign of recent occupancy. Moving smoothly into the hall beyond, he found himself in front of a row of rusting cell doors, each with a single barred window. He did a sweep, pushing each door fully open, discovering the rooms were empty. At the last one, he paused. This one showed signs of recent use, a thin, ratty blanket in a tangle on the slab bed, a bucket for slops. He stepped into the cell, illuminating the room in a steady sweep of light. A set of shackles lay tangled on the floor, linked by a heavy chain to the wall. He squatted, picking one up and setting it down softly with a grimace. As he stood, ready to leave, something caught his eye.

It was the word ‘Sara’ and a set of small marks on the wall, where she’d counted off the days of captivity by scratching the brick with a stone. In the beginning, the marks were sure and straight, becoming more wavering as time dragged on and she either became weakened or demoralized, or both. He touched his fingers to the wall, anger mixed with sorrow roaring through him. No one should have to endure what the Farduccir had probably put her through. The idea of Ms. Immer lolling in her cushioned suite in the palace across the compound while poor Sara had suffered chains and abuse in this stinking cell made him livid. Not that it was Immer’s fault. She’d apparently at least tried to help. Although why she hadn’t found a way to let the neutral negotiation team know there was another woman being held here…too afraid, no doubt.

Johnny shrugged. Even if she had, the Sectors probably wouldn’t have acted differently. There was scant strategic value in spending resources to rescue one anonymous teacher. Even with all the political pressure Governor Grogins brought to bear to save his mistress, Command had offered up exactly one hastily reactivated retiree. But he was here now and Ms. Bridges was going to get his very best effort. He counted the hash marks. Sara had been in this cell as recently as five days ago, allowing for the fact she might have missed a few days, depending on her mental condition. Definitely gone before Immer’s rescue.

So what had Umarri done with her? Human women were a valuable commodity to some, especially if Umarri had dealings with the Shemdylann pirates, as he was rumored to do.

Well the Shemdylann sure as hell didn’t land here, at the warlord’s house.
 

Johnny recalled the specs he’d examined by himself at the long ago briefing. Umarri had a landing field of sorts a few miles away. Maybe Sara had been taken there, to await a scheduled delivery to the aliens. He decided to check out the possibilities and if she wasn’t there, he’d retreat into the hills and regroup. Hide out for the day and then make another foray into the warlord’s palace, try to find a likely candidate to interrogate about the woman’s fate. He wasn’t leaving until he was positive she was beyond his ability to help.

How ironic would it be if she was already long gone from Farduccir and he was stuck here? But Johnny knew how to lie low and where to go to call for a rescue, so his stay on the planet wouldn’t be a moment longer than it had to be.

He left the cell and did reconnaissance through the front door of the prison, watching the frantic activity as the vehicles were loaded and fuel levels checked.

Suddenly there was a signal he couldn’t see and all the men stepped away, gathering in a tight cluster around a man who’d emerged from the palace. The attention was all on the newcomer, who was giving orders or possibly a briefing. Johnny slipped from the prison and, walking casually, sauntered behind the others, to the line of trucks. He climbed into the open back of the vehicle at the tail of the convoy and hid amongst the containers.

A few moments later the truck lurched into motion with much hesitation and mechanical complaining, and then was driven at a slow pace out of the warlord’s compound. Johnny peered between the containers shielding him and through a cloud of dust watched the gates closing as the convoy pulled away.

He estimated they’d driven a mile or maybe two when the convoy came to a halt, the right distance to have reached Umarri’s primitive spaceport. Johnny slipped out of the truck and into the brush alongside the road. He watched the cargo haulers drive through the security checkpoint at the edge of the landing field and park beside a string of buildings.

There was no sign of a Shemdylann ship. Two battered shuttles sat on the field, probably both belonging to the war lord, while his pirate ship rode in orbit overhead.
 

The truck drivers were beginning to unload the haulers, assisted by a few more men who came out of a building on the far side of the field. Johnny observed with interest as a vehement argument developed between the newcomers and their compatriots manning the facility.

A guard left the building carrying a tray, crossed the open space and made his way to a smaller structure off to the side, setting the food down to open the door, and then disappearing inside for a few moments.

Found you
. He’d bet anything Sara was being held in there, awaiting shipment to her next set of captors. Checking the situation, he found the warlord’s men had abandoned the trucks and the cargo, and were now proceeding inside the structure he’d identified as barracks, getting out of the rising heat.

Despite the lack of much in the way of cover, he worked his way to the side of the smaller building undetected and hid behind a loosely covered pile of rusting equipment. Putting his ear to the wall, he heard muffled voices, a scream and a harsh burst of masculine laughter. The scanner indicated two sentients inside. Waiting patiently for the jailer to leave, he adjusted the readout to take a reading around the edge of the building. No threat there. Soon the man came out, minus the tray. He was straightening his clothing and had a smirk on his face. Johnny tightened his finger on the trigger of the pulse rifle but now wasn’t the time to take vengeance for wrongs done to a helpless prisoner. Rescue the lady first, obtain payback later.

Someone hailed the guard from the direction of the bigger dwelling. “Saidir, hurry up, the nicturr is going fast in here. “

“You better have saved me at least two cups— that’s my allotted ration.” Cursing, Saidir broke into a run.

Nicturr
was a mildly addictive, local tea-like drink. Johnny smiled. If the whole crew was going to be on a high for the next hour or so, it made his job easier. Waiting for the guard to join his friend and disappear inside the barracks, he then stepped out of hiding. Opening the unlocked door, he was inside in one step and closed the portal behind him.

The interior of the dimly lit building was mostly taken up with a large holding cell, currently caging only one occupant. Staring at him wide eyed, a gaunt woman in ragged clothing was rising from the floor, bracing herself on the wall. Chains at her ankles clinked as she moved.

He held one finger to his lips and moved to the door of the cell, blasting it open with a single low intensity pulse from his blaster.

 
“Sara Bridges?”

Hands to her mouth, eyes wide, she gave him a jerky nod.

“I’m here to get you out, Ms. Bridges, Sectors Special Forces. “