MoonRush (37 page)

Off in the distance, Cleo could see swarms of men
overtaking
their junker ship by ropes and hooks. She watched in disbelief as their ride home…or at least to the base…toppled to the ground.

“No, no, no, no, not Gil again.” Cleo fought a sudden urge to spit, remembering at the last minute that she was wearing a helmet.

“How the…
?
What the…
?
He…” Jarod appeared to be having some sort of seizure. “And who the hell is with him?” He started forward, as if he was going to march right over there and give Gil a piece of his mind. Cleo grabbed his elbow, stopping his forward progress. After her initial shock at seeing the destruction of their ship, she had made an important realization.

“This is not the time, Jarod. For once, we’ve got the jump on the bastard.” A
t
this point, their crew had not been spotted. And Gil could have absolutely no idea of what they had on board their Rover, strapped down and covered up.

It took Jarod a second or two before what she had said finally landed, but then he nodded his agreement. With the smallest of the diamonds they carried, they might as well have carte blanche. They could purchase any ship here on the Moon as easily as breathing at this point. All they had to do was get back to the base. Then it was just a hop, skip
,
and a jump to get back home.

The Rogues all clambered aboard and Jarod whipped the Rover around, pointing them back to civilization. Or the closest they could find here on the
Moon.

* * *

S
omething
was
so satisfying in the act of sheer destruction. Gil enjoyed it even more knowing
that
he was dismantling the hopes and dreams of his biggest competitor. Well, competitor was perhaps a touch generous.

Jarod had a nose for good finds. His real problem was that he didn’t have the killer instinct. It had always been that way. Jarod seemed to have some sort of naïve belief that preparation, hard work
,
and charm would win the day. The idea was laughable. What won the prize was a show of force. Nothing more, nothing less.

And right now, the show of force was happening right here in front of Gil. And he couldn’t be more pleased. The ship hadn’t looked good to begin with. Now that it was on its side and mostly disassembled, it looked more like scrap metal than something that had ever been flight
ready.

Gil stalked around the edge of the demolition area as military men strapped explosives to the hull of what remained of the ship. As much fun as this was, it wasn’t quite what Gil was looking for. Crushing Jarod’s escape route was an enjoyable side venture. It was not the score.

The scent of blood was still in the air. Jarod was close to something; Gil could feel it. They were so far off the beaten path…no other teams were within miles of this location. There had to be a reason for it. The feeling was the instinct of the shark, and Gil had never been led astray by it.
So, Jarod, where are you right now?
Gil knew that Jarod couldn’t be too far off, but they had seen no trace of the crew since they arrived at their site.

Gil stared off
in
the horizon, his eye attracted by some sort of movement. No, not movement. Dust. A dust cloud.

“That’s him! Talon, load up! Go, go, go!”

The entire fighting force loaded up into every available vehicle. Trucks, Rovers
,
and bikes joined the sleek hovercraft that were already orienting to the trail of dust kicked up by the Rogues.

Gil had found his trail of blood, and
he was not about to let it go.

* * *

The MoonRover lurched again, throwing Buton up against the window, giving him a wonderful view of the
M
oonscape passing swiftly below. He had never been
gladder
that
he had taken the motion sickness pills. Even with the medication coursing through his veins, Buton felt his stomach tilt and churn with every jolt of the craft. The
Moon
Rover
came
very close to
becoming
airborne every time they went over a hill. Jarod did not seem to
know how to use
the brake
s
.

Jarod glanced over his shoulder, his expression hardening. Buton turned to see what had attracted Jarod’s gaze. A fleet of vehicles,
their
military strength radiating
from
them, bore down on their location. Fast.

Rob spoke
rhetorically
to the
rest of the group
. “So…this has never happened before, has it? Dude. Anyone else tired of
Gil
chas
ing
us—
with our trunk full of bounty?”

While the teenage sarcasm might not resonate with Buton, the sentiment behind it certainly did. Looking around at
his
colleagues, Buton
saw
that he was not alone. The
past
damage that Gil had caused the team felt very present to everyone. With one notable exception.

Mia looked from face to face, apparently seeking some sort of confirmation. Having been there before, Buton recognized how out of the loop the woman must feel
,
coming into such a tight
ly
knit group. She finally asked the question.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?

In a fascinating display of group dynamics at work, everyone’s attention shifted to Cleo. Cleo felt the implied directive and,
blunt
as always,
got
straight to the point.

“He shot our boat out from under us.”

“Oh.” Clearly Mia had not realized what she was signing up for when she hitched a ride with Jarod. To her credit, she took in the new information and made no outward sign of jumping ship. Buton felt his opinion of the woman shift toward the positive.

Off in the distance, the outline of the Dark Side of the Moon Café became visible. Buton was not clear on what Jarod’s intent might be…extra supplies would not do much
good
in
these
circumstance
s
…but
he
had no immediate suggestions for a better destination.

Mia seemed to. She grabbed Jarod’s shoulder.

“No! Head to the diamond fields!”

“Babe, we’ve gotta get some wings, pronto.”

“I know. My ship! We can take it!”

Jarod took his eyes completely off the terrain in front of him. Buton had to
restrain
himself from grabbing the wheel out of Jarod’s hands while Jarod focused on Mia.

“You found another ship?”

“Sort of. It was a derelict, but the pilot patched it back together. He swears it’s space
-
worthy.”

Mia’s description was less than encouraging, but in truth, what other options did they have at th
e
moment? Buton glanced behind them to see the military ships closing in, cutting the distance between with every moment that passed. Action was called for. Action that demanded an immediate choice of destination.

The Rover crested another hill and almost collided with a sleek, mean-looking hovercraft, a perfect match to the one behind them.

“Son of a
—
” Jarod swore. He slammed on the brake
s
while hauling on the wheel, almost dumping the crew and their cargo down the nearest valley. Buton latched onto the nearest door handle, clamping down on the food that
sought
to find its way up his trachea.

“Who the hell are
they
?” Cleo’s voice rang out in the small space.

As if in answer, a sharp voice sounded over their headsets. “This is the United States Government. Stop immediately
,
or
—
”

Buton swiped his hand over the sensor to cut off the feed
in
mid-sentence.

“Or we will be fired upon,” Buton finished. “Yes, sadly we are familiar with the drill.”

A realization dawned. The craft carrying Gil and the one identifying itself as
from the U
.
S
.
G
overnment were identical…and quite unusual…in design. Once more, Gil had found allies in high places. Buton began calculating the best choices for the Rogues’ survival. Options flickered through his mind, the available avenues narrowing as one after another proved untenable for one reason or another.

T
he
Moon
Rover sped down the hill
while
the two hovercraft dove toward them. Gunfire from forced-air rifles peppered the dust just to the side of their vehicle.

Mia screamed in Jarod’s ear, “We’ve
got
to get to my ship!”

“We’ll never make it,” Jarod growled back.

Buton had found the solution. He spoke with patience. “Make your approach from the rear.”

“We’re barely going to make it to the front.” Jarod’s tone made it clear he thought that Buton had taken leave of his senses. Always a possibility, of course, and one that any self-respecting scientist keeps in mind. However, the possibility of Buton having tipped into insanity he calculated at less than
1
percent. This solution was ideal.

“
A
subterranean garage
is
located beneath the café.”

Jarod and Mia’s eyes
met
Buton’s. They both spoke at once.

“There’s a
garage
!?”

Buton sighed.
Apparently Jarod and this Mia were a match made in fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-with-little-to-no-information heaven
.
“If you had read the unabridged
M
oon regulations
—
as I did
—
you might have known such a fact.”

The eye roll Jarod gave Buton was typical, and…so Buton supposed…obligatory. Ah, well. The life of a certified genius was far from a piece of cake. To use the vernacular.