Operation Hydra (4 page)

“Put her down?” Dro Tar teased. “Are you
sure
this is business?”

“Just give me a minute.”

Trey bent and put Krysta’s feet on the ground. He pressed her against the shuttle and held her there, his hand in the middle of her chest.

Her gaze met his cautiously, but she didn’t say a word.

“Scan her now,” he ordered.

“You’re still too close,” Dro Tar said.

Trey moved back. “Stay there,” he told Krysta firmly in Earthish.

“Who are you talking to?” Krysta’s gaze never left his face.

“Yep,” Dro Tar confirmed. “It’s the woman. Do you think she knows she’s transmitting?”

“Somehow, I doubt it. Terminate the comlink, Dro Tar, and leave it off until I contact you.”

“But, Commander Aune —”

“Now.”
He didn’t need to raise his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t want to do this. He
really
didn’t want to do this. But he had to solidify the role he was playing. It was necessary for the greater good… the phrase brought his thoughts grinding to a halt. His brother’s wife, Charlotte, High Queen of all Ontariese, despised that phrase. But it was true. Each day was but a thread in the endless tapestry of time.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Trey focused on the mission. Krysta would understand — in time. Slapping the pad with far more force than necessary, Trey activated the hatch. It popped, hissed,
then
extended a loading ramp. “Get in.”

“I’m not going with you.” Her tone was quiet, determined.

He didn’t argue. Balling up his jacket, he tossed it into the passenger seat adjacent to the hatch. Then, he swept her into his arms and carried her onto the shuttle. It was no easy feat; she fought him every step of the way. He set her down near the stern, the only area of the craft where he didn’t have to stoop, and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Look, Mr. Darrin. I can’t do this. How am I supposed to trust Hydran to keep his word? How do I know Belle is
—
”

“Can’t you sense her?”

Her eyes widened and she took a tiny step backward. “Why would you ask me that?”

Think before you speak, Mr. Darrin.
Trey mocked himself.
She’s a sharp one.

“Dr. Hydran told me you could.” He had to remain within his persona. Damn, this was complicated.

“Yes, I can sense her.”

“So,” he waved his hand, “beep her or whatever, and make sure she’s not ill.”

Her throat moved as she swallowed, and she anxiously licked her lips. “I already have, but what if he’s wrong about the incubation period? He said less than an hour. Once it’s begun, this virus will kill her in less than an hour. I can’t be more than an hour away. I can’t be more than a few minutes away.”

Watching her expression closely, he carefully laid his trap.
“A compromise, then?”

“Depends what you’re suggesting.” Her eyebrows drew together, her lips trembling just a bit.

“I’ll fly us to a location less than fifteen minutes from the Center, and you stop being a pain in the ass.”

A chuckle escaped before she could stop it, but she quickly regained control of her expression. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

Trey flipped down the vidscreen recessed in the wall of the shuttle. Activating his audiocom, he spoke quickly and quietly. “Dro Tar. Ask Vee to transmit
in writing
exactly what I am about to say to the vidscreen I just activated. He needs to transmit in Earthish. But nothing I’m about to say can be spoken in Earthish. Don’t ask questions. Ready?”

“Go,” Dro Tar said after a short pause.

He took Krysta by the shoulders and pointed toward the vidscreen. “Don’t ask questions,” he began.

“Go,” Dro Tar said more firmly.

Trey chuckled. “No, that’s what I want Vee to transmit. Just give me to Vee.”

“Go,” Vee’s voice prompted.

The words “do not ask questions” appeared on the vidscreen.

Krysta shot Trey a questioning look and opened her mouth. He quelled the impulse with a glare. She turned back to the screen.

“A signal is being transmitted from you. Do not speak. Nod yes or no. Were you aware of this?”

After the interpretation, she looked at Trey and shook her head.

“Is there anything on your person other than your clothing?”

Again she shook her head.

“Thank you, Vee. Close the com.”

Trey pointed to the vidscreen. “You understand what I want from you?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t decide if she was angry or afraid. It didn’t matter. The sooner they dealt with this, the sooner they’d get out from under Hydran’s microscope.

Retrieving his jacket, he sat facing her. “I want to see your legs,” he murmured. “Hydran gave me a preview in the other direction.”

Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she stared at the vidscreen for a long time.

“If you don’t take it off, I’ll come get it. I know you like to wrestle, but this shuttle is miserably cramped for what I have in mind.”

It was definitely fear in her wide purple eyes. He nodded toward the vidscreen.

She covered her face with her hands, took several long, deep breaths and then reached under her uniform top and unfastened the bottom. Hesitating another moment, she shoved the garment down and kicked it to him. He balled it tightly and tossed it through the open hatch, as far from the ship as he could.

“Dro Tar? Is the signal gone?”

“Sorry, boss. Keep up the striptease.”

“I told you to close the com,” he growled.

She laughed. “No. That time you told Vee to close his com and he did.”

He didn’t have time to deal with Dro Tar’s idea of humor!

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Now those boots just ruin the effect. Kick them over here.”

She did, hard, directly at his face. He caught the first and barely managed to duck the second. “Not enjoying the game?” he asked, to justify his laughter.

He heaved the boots out the hatch.

“No dice,” Dro Tar said. She had developed a fondness for American slang when they visited Earth ten cycles before. No one could break her of the habit.

Trey shook his head. He couldn’t do this to Krysta again. She’d been humiliated enough, frightened enough. He picked up his jacket and handed it to her. Hopefully, she knew what needed to happen. Remaining on his feet, he turned his back, and prayed she’d act quickly.

“You know, doll. I think I can wait to
touch,
if you let me
see
it all now.” He could hear the shuffle of her clothing. Thank the gods of the day moon, she didn’t hesitate. “Your skin is so pale, but I bet it’s soft. Come on. Don’t be shy. That’s the part I’ve seen already. Not that I’m complaining.” He managed a wicked chuckle. “I’m not complaining at all.
All of it.
Every scrap.
I don’t want
anything
to touch you, but me.”

A tightly clenched fist bearing the remainder of her clothing jabbed him in the side. He took the bundle from her and threw it out into the shuttle lot, quickly closing the hatch.

“Please, tell me the signal is outside the ship,” Trey said.

“Mission
accomplished,
mon capitaine.
Dro Tar out.”

“Better late than never.”
Trey turned to face Krysta and his budding smile withered and died.

She stood, lost within his massive jacket, her huge purple eyes staring at him with utter devastation.

“Sweetheart,” he started gently, then immediately regretted the endearment. “I didn’t even peek. I promise.” Her fingers clutched his coat so forcefully her knuckles turned white. He was afraid to touch her, but more afraid to leave her alone.

“It’s okay. He can’t hear us now.”

“You don’t understand,” she said.

“What don’t I understand?”

“Now he knows.”

“What does he know?” Trey felt like an idiot.

“For twenty-two years I’ve fought that man, and in a matter of minutes, you showed him what it will take to break me.”

Alistair Hydran tapped his fingers against his desktop, anxiously waiting for a response to his page.

“This better be important,” the general’s voice snapped without preamble.

Their signal was scrambled, but the general doubted the security of any transmission. “I wouldn’t have contacted you directly unless I had no other choice. This couldn’t wait.”

“Speak — carefully.”

Hydran nodded,
then
chuckled at himself.
Audio only communication was so antiquated.
“An unexpected opportunity has arisen. The little hellcat has taken a fancy to an off-worlder. Corra’s scans indicate his physiology is remarkably similar to the hellcat’s.”

“Does this off-worlder possess the same
genetic abnormality?
”

“Unfortunately, no, but he is a healthy male in his prime. I believe he is a better candidate than any I could find
locally
.”

“Has he agreed to participate in the program?”

“His participation will be more or less unintentional. If all goes as I anticipate, I’ll have what I need from him — or rather the hellcat will — without his realizing my true motivation.”

A long pause followed. “Quite frankly, I can’t see the hellcat allowing this to happen.”

“You didn’t see the way she responded to him. She’s ready, I assure you. And the off-worlder believes she’s had contraceptive injections, so he has no reason to use a physical barrier. This is the opportunity for which we’ve been waiting.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I’ll send the new batch of Libidium just in case. You’ve underestimated the hellcat before. I want to be prepared for anything.”

Hydran glared at the speaker projecting the general’s voice. “I haven’t misjudged the situation. If and when it becomes necessary, I’ll use Libidium.”

* * * * *

“I’m not here to break you,” Trey said softly, but Krysta didn’t believe him.

“What you’re here to do is irrelevant. I know what Hydran wants.”

“I don’t care what Hydran wants. As long as it doesn’t interfere with what I want.” It was bait, a cleverly worded lure, and Krysta wasn’t biting.

“We need to get out of here.” He motioned toward the front of the spacecraft.

He nodded to one of the two tall-backed seats and Krysta sat. She focused on keeping the bottom edge of the jacket as far down on her thighs as physically possible. His hand brushed her breast and her gaze shot to his. Heat curled low in her belly, making her restless. She was proud not to have gasped.

“Easy.” He chuckled. “Just the safety restraint straps. We can’t leave the ground without them.”

He fastened the two straps together and pulled them down along the center of her chest. The coarse material of the straps snagged the jacket, dragging it down as he went. The upper portion of her breasts swelled into view, perfectly framed by the restraint straps.

“Well now,” his tone was low and throaty, “that looks rather nice.” He dared a quick foray along the edge of the strap with just the tip of his finger. Krysta slapped his hand aside and reached for the jacket. Tugging it up and overlapping the edges, she was careful not to reveal too much of her legs.

He nudged her thighs apart with his hand and she nearly jumped out of the seat. “What are you doing?”

Laughing softly, he took her hand and guided it down along her body. His knuckles rested against her inner thigh, sending tingles into places she didn’t want to think about. Krysta was afraid to move, yet the need to squirm was driving her crazy.

He passed the buckle into her hand and eased her legs even farther apart. “The housing for the buckle is right there. Make sure you push it in firmly. Listen for the click.” He laughed again. “I never realized fastening safety restraints could be this much fun.”

Her skin burned. Why did he persist in humiliating her? Humiliate? She’d been humiliated before. It didn’t feel like this.

After a series of departure scans, he shot her a sidelong smile and ignited the engines. The ship shuddered, falling into rhythmic vibrations Krysta found intriguing. He lifted off and immediately executed a sharp, banked turn. Krysta dug her nails into the padded armrests, choking back a startled cry. He enjoyed surprising her. He wanted her off balance. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

They didn’t go far. He set the shuttlecraft down in a small clearing and the hatch opened with a pop/hiss. A steep ramp extended to the ground, awaiting their departure. By the time she figured out how to free herself from the safety restraints, Trey stood at the foot of the ramp, his hand raised in a gallant gesture. The ramp had no railing. He was being helpful.

Or was he? How much of her legs could he see from where he stood? Clutching the front of the jacket, Krysta placed her hand in his and ignored the slow, sweet pleasure of his strong fingers closing around hers. She concentrated on each step, silently counting, carefully watching where she placed her foot.

“If walking is so taxing, I would be happy to —”

His forearm connected with the backs of her thighs and she cried out, jumping off the other side of the ramp. He planted his fists on his lean hips and stared at her silently. Tension escalated.

Krysta’s belly fluttered and she had to look away. With the sunlight gleaming in his multi-colored hair, accenting every angle of his masculine features, she couldn’t think.
Could only want.
Her heart pounded madly, her entire body taking on its rhythm. She jammed her hands into the pockets of his jacket, not trusting herself to do anything else. She couldn’t surrender to this man. He was acting on Hydran’s behalf. And she would
never
surrender to Hydran.

“Who are you, Mr. Darrin?” She finally broke the silence. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to picture you without my jacket.”

Expecting him to grin, or chuckle, his complete sincerity sent shivers ricocheting along her nerves. “Shall I take it off, so you can concentrate on our conversation?” Rebellion was familiar territory; it made her feel safe.