“Approaching from the east,” Torkel warned.
“I have eyes on you.” Kyele’s voice radiated confidence across the comms. “Lothar isn’t here but I am sure the Marenian shouting orders and leading a strong counter-attack against the ground force is none other than Nikol.”
“How can you be certain?” Torkel asked.
Irony laced Kyele’s answer. “Because I remember his face from the last time we were toe to toe.”
When they’d rescued a group of kidnapped individuals from one of the Marenian’s illegal slave auctions, Nikol had arrived and cornered Kyele. It had been a close call. Torkel coming in saved Kyele but had enabled Nikol to escape their clutches.
“How many?”
Kyele’s answer was instant. “Six with Nikol and it looks like they may have left two to guard their transport vessel.”
“Alright. Hold position and wait for my go ahead.” Torkel was firm, but Bane caught the worry in his gaze.
“Copy.”
They all heaved a sigh of relief at the acknowledgment.
It was the distraction Gordo needed. He lurched to the side, breaking free of Jaron and stumbling into Mischka. Bane lost his hold on her. She fell sideways, bound arms going up in a desperate effort to catch her balance.
Gordo swiveled behind her and looped his cuffed arms about her neck. “Get Back! Stay away!”
Jaron had his weapon up and aimed at Gordo. Torkel mimicked the action from the opposite side so that they had him covered.
“If you think I won’t shoot her to get to you, you are mistaken,” Jaron declared with utmost sincerity.
Bane hadn’t drawn his weapon. Instead, he chose to meet Mischka’s gaze, stunned at the lack of fear or surprise there. Had she and Gordo planned this?
Laughing, Gordo twisted about and started to walk backward with Mischka used as a shield before him. He tipped his head in Bane’s direction, grin mocking. “Not if your friend here has anything to say about it.”
Bane didn’t bother facing Jaron. The Marenian placed a lot of faith in the minimum interactions he’d witnessed between him and Mischka unless she’d already shared the details of their intimate time together last night. Suspicion about the level of her involvement returned.
“What do you want?” Torkel asked, drawing Gordo’s gaze back in his direction.
Bane eased a step closer, muscles tensed and prepared to attack at the first sign of an opening. Mischka remained limp in his hold, not assisting but not resisting either. Curse her, why didn’t she help if she was so innocent?
“Mischka and I are leaving. Unless you won’t mind me snapping her neck, of course. One good jerk and she’s dead.”
Bane’s stomach heaved at the imagery. For every step Gordo took back, they moved forward, keeping him within their sight and reach. No way he’d let him leave with Mischka. Bane didn’t question his reasoning, he only knew he couldn’t let it happen. She belonged with him until he got the answers to a lot of unanswered questions.
“Nikol’s on the move. Advise?” Kyele muttered.
Indecision crossed Torkel’s face. He slid a glance toward Vee, who’d held back considering the wound to his leg.
“Kyele, hold position,” Torkel whispered, eyes on Gordo. The mask hid the motion of his mouth from Gordo but came clearly over the comms to the rest of them.
“Affirmative.”
Vee was now side by side with Bane and within full view of Gordo. Their gazes connected.
“You?! What are you doing?” Gordo demanded as he yanked Mischka closer. He palmed her throat with one hand and placed the other flat on the side of her face. The position would allow him to execute the perfect move to break Mischka’s neck. “Stay there.”
Holding both of his hands up, Vee said, “I’m not moving.”
But the gold overshadowed the green of his diamond point eyes. Gordo swayed.
“What are you doing?” Gordo demanded in a breathless voice. “Stop! Stop!”
He tightened his hands, the impression on Mischka’s skin going white from the pressure he applied. Terror gripped Bane by the throat. His heart thundered loudly in his ears. Fear and anger tumbled inside of him. What if the Marenian was resistant to the hypnotic effect of Serpines?
Mischka’s life wasn’t a price Bane was willing to pay. He slid a side glance at his friend in warning. “Veeeee.”
“Let her go. You don’t really need her,” Vee continued in a soothing tone.
Gordo hesitated, his eyes fluttering. Then he took his hands away from Mischka and shoved her forward. “S-s-d-don’t...re-rea-s-slllly n-n-needss herss.”
The slurred speech was difficult to understand. What held Bane’s attention was Mischka’s unexpected response. Instead of escaping or running away, she whipped her leg up and out. The high kick caught Gordo in the chest and he stumbled back.
Bane shot silk from his glands on his right wrist. The protective black coils caught Gordo about the waist, the embedded spikes digging deep the more he struggled. A slight tug jerked Gordo forward toward Bane and he screamed in pain.
“Bane, we need him.” Torkel’s voice rang with authority.
Another whip of black from his left wrist. This time the thin rope circled Gordo’s neck and the pressure choked off his scream as Bane continued to pull him closer. Gordo started to babble, tears rolling freely down his bright red face as he tripped and fell to his knees.
Bane straddled him and gripped Gordo’s hair then proceeded to smash his face into the ground once then twice for good measure. He kept going until the Marenian slumped unconscious. Once he was still, a tremor rolled down Bane’s spine.
He hung his head and panted. All he could see was Gordo’s malicious desire to snap Dhar—no Mischka’s neck without regret. Fear had his head back up just as quickly to check on her. She stood to the side. Safe. Unharmed.
He shuddered. This wasn’t him. He was usually calm on assignments. Nothing about him right now was calm. Gordo shouldn’t have been able to get the jump on them. Visions of Mischka on the ground with her head twisted to the side would plague his dreams for many nights after this.
Vee limped over. “Good?”
He wasn’t, but Bane nodded and released the dead ends of his silk before standing. He wasn’t the least bit remorseful about the shredded state of the skin about Gordo’s neck and torso. His lips firmed at his lack of concern. That wasn’t in the code of being a Jutak warrior.
Worry for Mischka pulled him in too many directions to be effective. His gaze sought her again. Jaron had a hand on her elbow and had pulled her aside with Torkel. Bane blew out a breath. “Do we carry him or leave him?”
They needed whatever information they could get from Gordo, but he was a dangerous prisoner and proving he was willing to hurt anyone in his efforts to escape.
When Torkel said, “Carry,” Bane wasn’t surprised. He hefted Gordo over one shoulder, leaving Mischka to Jaron though he kept an eye on the two.
Vee came alongside him. “I can go aid Kyele.”
They moved at a brisk clip but Torkel’s voice was clear. “Be honest, V’hor—how is the leg?”
There was a definite hitch to Vee’s step, but he’d yet to slow down.
“I can do it. The pressure patch Jaron used is holding up.”