She didn’t realize she was tapping her fingers on the wall until Copta reached out and caught her hand. “We are doing well. This is the plan, and we are prepared for all the possible responses.”
“Which doesn’t stop me from being so nervous I feel like I might throw up,” Allie pointed out.
“Do not. If I hear or smell that, I will not be able to avoid doing the same, and then we would have a very disgusting mess.”
“And our so-called friends would remind us about it pretty much for the rest of our lives.”
“They are the sort who would,” Copta agreed. “Are you ready?”
“Yep.” Allie gave a nod, and Copta opened the door to the small booth. The room was so cramped that she had to leave first, but then she waited and allowed Allie to take point. Their small crew was definitely short on muscle, and the three of them were the designated gun hands, but they would get the job done. There wasn’t another option.
Allie walked into the corridor to find that Becca had locked down the cart, closing the front to protect the food. None of them planned to come back for it. Allie headed for the maintenance door, passing the cart on the way, and Becca pulled a long-arm radius blaster and handed it over as Allie went by. Keeping the weapon at her side, Allie pushed the service door open and found herself in the short corridor between berths. The inner door to the new ship was propped open, so they seemed to be going with plan one.
Allie moved to the side of the door and whistled. A whistle answered back, and Allie stopped. That was not the all-clear sound.Shit. She swallowed nervously, but she didn’t have time to do any actual panicking. Maybe he’d been captured, and maybe he was just being overprotective and trying to clear the area before inviting in the rest of them. Becca followed, and Allie gave the danger signal, and Becca stopped.
Allie took a deep breath and waited. She whistled again, and Shank didn’t respond.Shit shit shit. He’d definitely been captured. They’d covered every option in planning, so Allie knew that technically she could call for help or bluff, but calling for help wasn’t an option. Hell would freeze before she’d leave another friend behind. Instead she stepped right into the open.
“Shank, you clear for the whole crew to come through?” she called into the dark. A hard shiver raced up her spine, and she could feel the sweat gathering at the back of her neck. Guns were probably pointed at her right now. And instead of running like a sane person, she was standing with the light behind her. The damn crew of theCandiruhad given her some sort of virus for stupid.
“Skeleton crew first,” Shank called back. “No more than two or three.”
Allie angled her body toward the sound. “Where are the lights?” She stepped into the room, the whole time praying that either the guys who had grabbed Shank wouldn’t shoot her, or they’d hit her with a stunner. At least Allie’s people had been nice enough not to kill Claire, so it’d be fair to return the favor. She could hear Becca and Copta moving in quietly behind her, and she spoke louder to cover any sounds of them getting into position. “Shank, where are the lights?” Allie asked again as she moved farther into the room. She itched to pull her gun, but she didn’t have any cover or any target...and she was shaking enough she was afraid her aim might be a little compromised.
“I couldn’t get them to come on,” Shank answered after an awkwardly long pause. Allie really hoped Becca was in position. She pulled a glow rod out of her pocket.
“The techs are going to need light. I’ll see what I can do before calling them over. They may need to bring floodlights.” She turned the glow rod on, and the weak blue radiance flooded the area.
There was a ship here, and she was gorgeous. Ben’s scanner had given them the technical specs. She was a runner class, a little smaller than theCandirubut in the same category. She had hyperdrive and sublight drive and a push drive for in-atmosphere maneuvering. However, the scanner hadn’t revealed her sweeping lines or the long windows. Not ideal for space battles, but perfect on a luxury ship. Someone had spent a lot of money to have this beauty as a toy.
“She’s stunning,” Allie said as she focused on the ship. “Shank, have you gotten a good look at her?” Giving the enemy a clean shot at her made all the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but she’d agreed to this contingency plan, and she’d follow it through even if it killed her. However, during the planning, death had seemed much less likely than it did right now. If Ben or Jacqs were in the dark trying to flank the enemy, Allie would have felt safe, but Becca and Copta didn’t inspire that sort of faith when it came to armed conflict. Allie turned around when she heard a noise.
Shank stood. He was behind a crate that must have been fifteen feet long and five feet tall. Allie’s gut clenched as she thought about how many people might be back there. Shank leaned a little to one side and then went so stiff he looked like he had a rod up his back. Allie had the feeling he had a bad guy on either side holding him hostage. Shank rested his palms against the crate. “The ship is beautiful. Why don’t you check that panel and see if you can get the lights working?”
The panel he gestured toward would not only bring Allie closer to those crates, but it would also require her to turn her back on them. Yep, these guys had an ambush planned.
“Good idea.” She started over, her weapon still at her side. There was a soft popping noise and then something hit the side of the ship hard, and a cloud of white knockout gas burst in a dramatic spray pattern. Even as she dropped to the ground, Allie grabbed the small filter that had been hanging around her neck, and pulled it up over her nose and mouth. She saw Shank do the same. Then Allie heard the hard whine of a personal weapon followed by the dullthunkof a bullet sinking into something soft like wood or flesh. No one screamed, so Allie could only pray it was the former. Shank leaped to the side, and one of the hostage takers stood and staggered. He had one hand on the crate, but in his other he waved a gun. He was a huge man, larger than even Jacqs.
Shank tackled the guy, and Allie ran to that end of the crate, her imagination providing vivid imagery of Shank with a gaping gut wound. However when she reached a point where she could see around the barrier, Shank was already standing up.
Even with the gauzy mask over his face, Allie could see his wide grin. “Ben’s knockout gas works really well. I’m almost feeling guilty about how easy this is.” The huge guard lay on his back, his gun several feet away and his eyes closed. Two more guards were passed out behind Shank.
“Easy? You got captured! Again. I’m starting to wonder if you have a fetish.”
Shank laughed easily. “Nope. I just know better than to argue when there are guns pointed at me. Help me with Claire.” Shank turned and walked toward the ship. As the quick-acting gas started to settle toward the floor, Becca seemed to rise out of the mist with the gas launcher in hand and a filter covering her face. “You clear?”
“For now,” Allie said. “We’re about to get the ship open.”
“Copta’s holding at the outside door,” Becca said. Allie frowned. That wasn’t in the contingency plan, but maybe Copta hadn’t been able to bring herself to walk into a potential ambush.
Allie hurried over to where Shank had parked the maintenance cart near the ship’s nose.
He opened the top and pulled Claire out by an arm. “The entry pad is back here,” he said. Allie caught Claire’s other arm and started helping to haul her over to the door.
“We need Copta to run the decrypt,” Allie said. Their nicely outlined contingency plan wasn’t going to plan.
“Give me a second to see if I can guess her code first. I’m pretty sure we won’t have to bother with hacking the computer.” Shank pressed Claire’s limp hand against the pad, and the computer clicked away. Then he used her finger to poke a long string of numbers. The first three times he tried it, the computer squawked at him. Just when Allie was starting to worry, Shank punched in a number, and the computer chirped as it accepted the code.
“Holy crap. Who uses an access code that long?”
