Accepting his word, Torkel stated, “Go. Confirm it’s Nikol, but don’t make a move on him without further instruction from me. We need to be careful. I don’t trust him and this is a lot of effort to get to Bane.”
After Vee slipped away, Mischka spoke up. “It’s not Bane he wants.”
They all turned to her and slowed before they crossed onto the open tarmac area. Bane started to ask what she meant when Torkel beat him to it. “Explain.”
She didn’t look at Bane. The dismissal cut. “It’s you. Lothar wants you.”
They exchanged looks, none of them doubting the truth of her statement based on the history they had with Lothar.
“Kyele, Vee is on route to you. Be on alert.” Torkel pointed to Bane. “You and Jaron get to the transport with the prisoners. I’m going to assist Vee and Kyele. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
Jaron stopped Torkel. “This isn’t sitting well with me either. My senses are telling me that we all need to get out of here. Now.”
Recently Jaron had shared with them the dreams he had of something happening to Kyele and Sasha. No one took it lightly. Jaron’s family line was known for clairvoyance with a high percentage of accuracy though Jaron had yet to have a full premonition himself.
“We’ll take extra care. Get them to the transport.” Then Torkel raced off in the same direction Vee had taken.
***
Everything was happening in fast motion. Mischka skipped to keep pace with Jaron, who had an iron-tight grip on her elbow. Bane trotted to the left of her, his laser up and ready.
As soon as they got inside the shuttle, the Jutak pushed her into a black seat and fastened a harness over her chest, her bound arms caught beneath the safety device. When she made to protest, he arched a brow and she firmed her lips. Her arms could cramp and fall off before she’d asked him for mercy. After what she’d done, he was entitled to whatever form of revenge he deemed acceptable.
That didn’t stop the next words from spilling out. “You might not want to hear this or consider it too little too late but I’m sorry.”
He smacked his hand on the top of the seat, making Mischka jump from the loud crack of flesh hitting synth leather. “You’re right. I don’t and it is.”
She flinched and leaned back, away from the aggression coming from his pores. Bane pushed back the knit mask, revealing his frustrated grimace as he tossed Gordo into the seat across from her. A thick layer of Bane’s silk threads covered Gordo from forearms to wrists.
Apparently, they weren’t willing to risk him getting free again. Bane pulled the harness straps down and locked them in place with a click.
Still unconscious, Gordo’s head tilted to the side and hit his shoulder. Though it would probably go stiff in the awkward position, Mischka had no sympathy for him. If given the opportunity, Gordo would have killed her. No hesitation. No remorse. Which brought to mind Lothar.
Lothar was going to end her when he got his hands on her. Of that, Mischka had no doubt. She almost hoped the Jutak warriors sent her to a prison colony for her past actions. Anything was better than the torture Lothar would line up before ordering her death.
Sighing, Mischka looked away from Gordo’s bleeding slack features only to come face to face with Bane’s scowl. She jerked, then winced as the harness safety mechanism reacted by tightening across her shoulders and breasts to hold her in place.
Jaron didn’t bother sitting as he ripped the black mask from his face. His sweaty blond hair was matted to his scalp and his blue eyes narrowed on Bane. “When we get to Enotia, she’s going in a cell. I don’t want her anywhere near Sasha.”
The saliva in Mischka’s mouth dried up, her hands twitching in the plasti-cuffs. She remembered Sasha. The Argoran had been a favorite pet project with Dr. Kirkem, so he’d taken great delight in tormenting her. Mischka wasn’t aware the Jutaks had formed a friendship with her after the escape. There had been a lot of confusion at the time and Mischka knew she was lucky to have gotten away. Dr. Kirkem hadn’t been as fortunate.
“Torkel wouldn’t have it any other way,” Bane said.
Neither sat with her, choosing to walk a bit away and put their heads together, whispering. It was probably regarding their fellow teammates. If they were attempting to catch Nikol, they were going to be in for quite a surprise.
Nikol would fight with every weapon at his disposal before surrendering. He was Lothar’s son all the way.
Chapter 16
Nikol knew this was a bad idea the moment his father ordered him to support this attack against the military medical station CV-8. Of course, the order had been formed as a request but clear enough, neither of them pretended to misunderstand.
With no justifiable excuse to refuse, Nikol had agreed. So far, it was shaping up to be one giant cluster and the limited number of men Lothar had sent were already being overrun.
Ten men who were probably considered expendable. Nikol held in a snort at being pulled into a reckless act that didn’t seem to have a purpose. Or at least not one Lothar chose to share with him. He took a moment to consider his options.
“What should we do, sir?” The captain who’d piloted their vessel asked as he fired back at the security force in dark blue uniforms closing in on them.
Aiming high to avoid a direct hit, Nikol struck the side of one of the smaller buildings that made up the medical facility. Chips flew in the air and the guards scattered, breaking their formation.
They regrouped and pressed their pursuit. Fuck! Nikol jerked back behind the small cover of an overhang at the space port as the guards fired back.
He should have stuck with his initial plan and ignored Lothar’s communication. Instead he now found himself among a group of males he couldn’t trust. At any other time, no one would notice if he abandoned these loyal followers to their fates. But not one of them was a part of the crew he’d amassed on his own, loyal to him and him alone.
“Sir? Sir, what do we do?” The pilot’s voice had taken on a demanding quality.
“Cease!” his harsh rasped command did the trick. Silence followed.
At least Irzak wasn’t completely foolish. Nikol studied their surroundings, trying to fathom the reason behind this mission. A medical center full of military personnel with training and weapons at their disposal. What could Lothar have been thinking to initiate a non-provoked confrontation here of all places? Then again, it wouldn’t be the first pointless, ill-thought out plan.
Of the ten or so Marenians fighting on Lothar’s behalf, Nikol could only track a remaining handful. Two were pinned down and trying to make their way back now. Three were with him and Irzak and four more were unaccounted for, not responding. More than likely dead. Against over three dozen trained soldiers if his count was correct.
Nikol couldn’t justify the loss of life or the risk of capture for himself. There was no bounty on his head and no evidence linking him to any of the crimes he’d committed. That didn’t mean the law enforcement members of the Alliance wouldn’t attempt to coerce a confession from him if arrested.
This battle wasn’t worth it. He squinted at something which caught his eye to the far side of the grounds on his left. Dots moved in the distance. One, no, two figures in black. He cursed, refusing to be overrun in such a blatant loss. “Signal a retreat. Notify Lothar of the updated status for this mission. Failure.”