Virtues of War (30 page)

Feeling the slight weight of the dagger in his boot, Kete approached the nightclub.

Merje, of course, knew the best dance club. She’d only moved to Longreach a month ago, but she already had a better sense of the nightlife than Katja had gathered in four years at the Astral College.

The scene was just starting to get moving when they arrived, and they found Jack and Amanda inside, leading the efforts on the dance floor. The deep, pounding throb of the music allowed for very little conversation, but Jack seemed to have no trouble getting introduced to Merje. Amanda, to her credit, kept dancing with energy, but Katja sensed the possessiveness as clearly as if the younger woman had put a leash around Jack’s neck.

The young pilot, for his part, seemed to love the fact that he had three women dancing around him, and he joyously took turns facing off with each one. Amanda got closest, pulling him almost against her as they bobbed and turned. After one particularly daring coupling, she wouldn’t let him turn back toward Merje, but Katja could tell Jack still wasn’t getting it. She decided to help things along.

She stepped between Jack and Merje, engaging her sister in a close coupling of their own. Merje grinned and played along, draping her arms over Katja’s shoulders as they moved seductively around each other. Slowly they moved away from their two companions, opening up the floor.

More people joined in with the music, and soon the dance floor was a throbbing mass. Katja liked the crowded heat of the bodies, feeling the primal pulse of the beat flow through her muscles. It was pure energy, stripping away the trappings of this hollow society and letting the raw power of the soul come forth. She let her body go with the music, gyrating back and forth, up and down.

At some point Merje must have moved away, because when she opened her eyes she was alone in the crowd. She didn’t care, and danced for herself.

Eventually, inevitably, a slow song came on. She figured it was a good time to get some water, but she’d barely taken two steps when Jack bounded up and took her hands. She blinked in surprise, but his big grin was just too disarming. She laughed as he tucked a hand into the small of her back.

“Do you know this song?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “It must have been released while we were away.”

While we were away
. Such a casual phrase to describe hell, and the worst part of that hell, she knew, was that she’d fallen in love with a man she could never have. At least, not the way she wanted. He’d made his choice, and that was that.

Then she realized, as Jack pulled her a little closer, that she shared just as strong a bond with the kid who held her now. She’d saved his life, and he had saved hers. What was more, while she’d just been doing her job, he’d gone out of his way to rescue her. He had real character—not like that wannabe-adulterer.

She rested her head against Jack’s shoulder, feeling truly content for the first time since coming home. Here was a true friend who understood her, with whom she could feel safe. She hugged him a little closer.

Although, she realized suddenly, it would be better if he’d learn to keep his hand off her ass. Was he drunk already? What a lightweight.

The song lilted to an end. She lifted her head to tell him to get right back to Amanda if he knew what was good for him.

He kissed her. Square on the lips. With a little bit of tongue.

She pushed him away. He staggered back and nearly fell into some other dancers. He stared at her, his eyes wide. She shook her head, trying not to cry as yet another illusion of security was ripped away from her.

He approached her. “What’s wrong?” The music was already blasting away again and she was forced to shout in his ear.

“Go find Amanda, you dumb shit!”

She left him behind to figure it out for himself, pushing through the dancing bodies and fighting down the anger. Amanda and Merje were both seated at a booth sipping drinks.

“Jack’s looking for you,” she said. “He wouldn’t shut up about how good your moves are.”

Amanda looked at her doubtfully, but with a touch of hope mixed in. She peered out across the dance floor, and scooted out of the booth, enabling Katja to sit down next to her sister.

The volume was considerably less inside the booth, and they could actually speak. She leaned her head against Merje’s shoulder.

“I love you, Merry.”

Merje wrapped an arm around her. “I love you, too, Katty.”

“And I hate the rest of the world.”

“Me, too.”

Merje slid a fruity cocktail in front of her.

She reached for a water. “No thanks, not tonight. I’ve used up my free pass with the local law enforcement.”

“Shame. It seems like a long time since I had a stun gun pointed at me.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, occasionally able to glimpse Jack and Amanda tearing it up. She looked happy to have Jack to herself again, and he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“It’s sweet, isn’t it?” she said. “Too bad Jack’s such a dumbass.”

“She’s trying hard, you have to hand it to her.” Merje sipped at her cocktail. “I’d have moved on to the next sucker long before now. Of course, it never takes me that long to get a man’s attention.”

Katja smiled at her. “Merje, you haven’t been bad again, have you?”

Merje wrapped her lips around the straw of the cocktail and gave her best wide-eyed look.

Katja laughed, looking out at the crowd again.

Someone in the shadows was looking back at her.

She didn’t stare, but kept her eyes moving until they’d finished their casual sweep. Her tail was here—the person who’d been following her. Facing down toward her drink, she looked up through her lashes toward the spot. It was difficult to make out features, but she could feel his eyes on her. It was the same feeling she’d had before, of being watched.

Katja considered her options.

She couldn’t get up now—that would confirm that she’d been looking his way. In a few minutes she could, but for the moment she had to stay put. Still, it would look strange to sit here in silence. She needed to show that she was carefree, and having a good time.

Merje finished her drink and started on Katja’s abandoned one. Katja took a long, easy breath. If there was one place left in the worlds she could feel safe, it was here, with little Merry.

“So tell me about your latest naughtiness,” she said with a grin. “Which partner was it?”

“Oh please,” Merje said, and she made a face. “I have more style than that. Only whores sleep with their bosses.” That stung a little bit, but Merje couldn’t possibly know it.

“Then why was it so bad?”

“Well… he’s married.”

“Oh, for shame.”

“And he’s a client.”

“And you with a father in the Army.” She shook her head in mock disbelief.

Merje laughed. “Well, at least this guy wears a uniform too.”

The witty retort died in Katja’s throat. What did she mean by that?

“In fact,” Merje continued, “I really should thank you for bringing him in. He’s a treat.”

Katja’s heart went ice cold. The music faded from her ears, the dancing figures disappeared from her peripheral. All she saw was her sister’s face. Then all she heard was her own voice.

“Are you talking about Thomas?”

Merje shrugged with her hands turned up, face all cutesie.

“Guilty! And I’m surprised you didn’t have a go at him—man, he’s got some passion in him that needs to be ridden hard.”

In that moment the last place of safety disappeared from Katja’s life. Her last connection to this foreign world was severed. There was nothing for her here. This woman before her, these people, this city. All were dead to her.

Merje had stopped talking, her face registering surprise.

“Katty… Hey, you asked.”

She knew that the tail was still watching her. In fact, he’d moved closer since she’d spotted him.

“Katty, please…” Merje’s face showed an expression Katja had never seen in her before. Fear.

Katja rose from the booth. “When things start to happen, get down and stay down.”

She turned, coolly surveying the scene. The dance floor was full and pulsing. The bar to her left was busy with patrons and staff. The tables and booths to her right were mostly occupied with drunken revelers. The bouncers were positioned strategically around the dance floor, gazing around the entire space with bored expressions.

Her target had stopped moving, and was seated alone at a table on the far side of the floor. She assessed the elements in play, felt a plan form in her mind, and moved into action.

She strolled along in front of the tables, just off the dance floor. She passed the first bouncer. The second was ideally located, giving her a clear line of fire. A quick scan revealed two emergency exits on nearby walls—those would need to be covered, but not before the main threat was neutralized.

The second bouncer was more fat than muscle, but he was a mountain of a man. His stun gun was snapped in place low on his chest, ready to grab and pull free in the case of an incident. His expression was dull, and he was more interested in watching the girls dance than in the security of the club.

Perfect.

“Hey, big boy,” she said in her best drunken voice, running her hand up his meaty arm. He looked down at her in vague surprise.

She opened her eyes wide.

“My friend is way taller than me, and she said that she could kiss every bouncer on her tip-toes. But I said I could kiss the biggest bouncer with my feet flat on the ground.” She looked him up and down. “Are you the biggest bouncer?”

He gave her a cool smile and little laugh, but his beady eyes were already scanning her figure. She stepped in front of him and ran both her hands up his arms. Her face was even with the stun gun on his chest. It was fully charged but with the safety on.

“Can’t you give me even a little kiss?”

He glanced around then leaned forward with an indulgent smile and closing eyes.

“Sure, little lady.”

She head-butted him and pulled the stun gun free. Safety off. Trigger pulled and his fat, lumbering body collapsed backward in the sonic boom. Pivot to right. Take bouncer one. He staggered backward and collapsed before he could even pull his weapon free. Scan for other bouncers.

Fire.

Fire.

Fire.

Screaming crowds. Threat neutralized. Take target.

She spun around in time to see the dark form of her target sprinting for one of the emergency exits. She fired. Other patrons collapsed under the blast. Target was moving behind non-combatants. She fired into the crowd to clear a shot. Too many people in the way. She fired again and leapt onto the nearest table for a better angle. Waves of stunning blasts ripped through the panicked crowd.

Her target was at the exit.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

She jumped down and began climbing over the collapsed patrons. He wouldn’t get far once she made it to the street. More screaming. People diving out of her way. Almost to the exit.

The door slammed shut. She spun around, hearing the click of another emergency exit lock. The main entrance was still open, and she hurtled onto the now deserted dance floor to start her sprint. She noted idly that the music had stopped.

Suddenly the main entrance was blocked with the massive figure of a policeman in full armor. He marched through the mayhem, followed quickly by another. Katja dropped into a slide and skidded to a halt on the slick floor, looking for a retreat. The police raised their forearm weapons.

“Drop the weapon,” the mechanized command grated. “Put your hands on your head.”

The stun gun was useless against armored troops. She let it slide from her grasp even as she scrabbled to regain her footing.

“Halt and put your hands on your head.”

She considered leaping behind the bar. Maybe there was another door out behind.

“Lieutenant Katja Emmes, halt and put your hands on your head.”

She froze. There was no escape now, and if she continued to resist they’d shoot her without question. For a split second she toyed with running, just to end it all, but that wasn’t how she wanted to go. Not with Terran bullets in her back.

She remained on her knees, feeling the stickiness of the dance floor clinging to her, and in the strange silence slowly placed her hands on her head.

The regular drip of condensation off the roof of the concrete tunnel was the only sound to interrupt Kete’s thoughts. He moved silently in the dim light, soft shoes making neither sound nor mark against the well-worn access tunnel path.

It had taken him nearly fifteen minutes to get this far into the City of Longreach aquifer system, but his next move might be the most dangerous one to date, and he didn’t want to risk being observed.

A study of the municipal workers’ work routine suggested that no one would be along this tunnel for hours, and he wore a stolen set of municipal coveralls, just in case. He understood well the omnipresence of chaos, however, in any human endeavor, and when he finally paused, halfway between the nearest two access doors, he stopped and listened.

As well he listened internally for the telltale EM emissions of an approaching machine or maintenance crew. Aside from the faint, consistent drip, the tunnel was like a tomb.

The setting matched his mood. He had very nearly wound up in an early grave, he knew, and he chastised himself again for risking Centauria’s mission in order to pursue his personal agenda. Katja Emmes wasn’t part of the plan, but his obsession with her had put everything at risk. Her speed and aggression two nights ago in the club had been formidable, and he had no illusions about how lucky he was to have escaped.

What he still couldn’t understand, though, was how accurately she’d pinpointed him in that crowd of hundreds. In the last few moments before she’d seized the bouncer’s weapon, Kete had almost felt connected to her as if through the Cloud, as if she herself had been implanted. The pain he’d sensed from her had been shocking—an almost animal rage, mixed with deep betrayal. It had washed over him with such power that he hadn’t noticed her swift movements until the gun was pointed right at him.