Two blue lasers stared at me from Frank’s grim face as he clicked his harness into place. The snick of the latch punched into my raw nerves like a fist. “You can’t be sure of that.”
“No, but it’s a good guess. Vote now,” I said, “or they’ll get suspicious.”
Abruptly, Jax straightened from his turtle hunch. “Let’s do it.”
Everyone else nodded, Frank just a half second behind.
Shade opened the channel from our end. “Yeah. Echo Echo Charlie. Isn’t that what I said?”
I held my breath, not moving a single muscle. Shade’s game face was incredible. Or his voice, in this case. Totally convincing. He had even me believing he was utterly calm and exactly where he belonged. I was so glad he was on my team now. I’d thought it before, but this time, the reality of it swamped me in a hot rush that raced through my blood.
The voice came back, as fed-up as ever. “When the light turns green, dock on Platform 9, Slot 28. They’re waiting for you on Lower Z Level to repair those phasers that went out.”
I slowly exhaled. We were in—but LZL was nearly the polar opposite of where we needed to go on the station. If we had to go to the very bottom level to maintain our cover, it would mean being on the Ewelock hub for longer than any of us wanted.
Good thing I had a mechanic. I glanced at Shade. He could totally fix some phasers.
“Got it.” Shade kept his response short and sweet and disconnected from our end.
The signal light on Platform 9 turned green. He eased us through the plasma shield to the landing area.
“When this is over and you’re flying out by yourself, you drop the second you can.” Shade glanced at me. “If the lower phasers are out, they can’t shoot you if you’re beneath them.”
I nodded. Not getting blown up was high on my to-do list. Right up there with stealing a bunch of stuff without getting caught. If we had to fix the phasers, though, this idea didn’t help.
I reached for the navigation controls as Shade located Slot 28. “Time for a blank slate.” If the Dark Watch somehow got its hands on the Queen Bee, we didn’t want anyone knowing where we’d been.
“You’re one step ahead of everyone, aren’t you, sugar?” Shade said with a wink.
“Cupcake, we already knew that.” I wiped the memory. Delete.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Not a modest muffin, are you?”
My lips twitched. I wiped the com device next. It looked like a new unit when I put it back in place. “I’m the big one with the nuts on top.”
Shade grinned, his eyes laughing when they met mine. I grinned back, and right then, I was sure this crazy, ballsy plan could work.
“Are you two talking in code or something?” Caeryssa asked from the back. “Now I’m hungry,” she grumbled.
“Seriously. Focus,” Frank said.
I settled back in my seat. “Just blowing off steam.” It was better than flipping out, which half of me still wanted to do as a traffic controller pointed us toward Landing Pad 28 with a flashing wand, backing up as we approached. Her Dark Watch uniform flapped hard against her body until Shade shut down the propulsion system and powered off. She pushed back her short blonde hair, turning to her next job without sparing us another glance.
I unbuckled my harness and stood. Unlike Frank, I was a firm believer that sometimes the only way to move forward was with a smile. Now I would focus.
Shade reached over and gave my wrist a quick squeeze. The faint ink still on my arm with the Queen Bee’s ignition codes disappeared under his big hand. I’d memorized the numbers now, along with the Nickleback coordinates. He looked at me hard before letting go. I nodded a silent promise to be careful. He nodded back the same vow and then popped the locks, exhaling a long steadying stream of air.
I did the same and hopped down, trying to release tension and move in the loose, relaxed way of a person who had every right to be here. I wasn’t sure I succeeded. The stolen uniform felt slippery and weird, and these boots were heavy and a size too big for my feet. Moreover, I’d never be comfortable with a gun openly strapped to my side. I hoped we wouldn’t have to use our Grayhawks, but we sure as hell weren’t leaving them behind.
The others poured out after me, but Shade slipped into the back. A moment later, he emerged with a steel-gray oblong toolbox. We really were a Dark Watch maintenance team of five.
I glanced from side to side as Shade closed the cruiser, hoping we could walk straight to the lifts and disappear. My eyes snagged on a woman staring out at us from a glassed-in side office, a frown making her squint through the window. I let my gaze skate away but kept her in my peripheral vision as we started moving.
Uh-oh. She left the office and strode over to intercept us at a rapid, boot-pounding pace.
I tried not to panic as she planted herself in front of us halfway to the elevator block and swept a quick inspection over the whole group. Her stark black uniform matched everyone else’s here, including ours, except for the red stripe across her chest pocket. She was a team captain of some sort. Landing dock security? Chief of Platform 9? Her scowl sent a wary vibration tingling up my spine.
“Crew 32?” Blue eyes narrowed under thick blunt bangs that partially hid an amoeba-shaped birthmark sliding down her temple.
“That’s right,” I answered.
She looked beyond us toward the Queen Bee. “Where’s Bob?” Suspicion scrolled across her face like a computerized warning.
Bob? How the hell should I know? “Grounded. Whole crew’s in the hospital.” I forced a twang into my voice to match the nasally thing I’d heard coming from Sector-7-born kids at the orphanage, some of them from Ewelock. “Food poisoning. Can you believe that? Bad luck. Anyhow, Bob sent us instead. Knew it was urgent to fix those LZL phasers. Gotta keep your bottoms up.”
And that was that. We weren’t impersonating the maintenance crew anymore; we were replacing them. Adapt. Move forward. Don’t get caught.
My fingernails bit into my palm, and I uncurled my fist, letting my hand dangle.
“The phasers went out earlier.” She frowned. “No explanation for it.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I gave a short nod, trying to end the conversation and hoping she might not pay attention if we went up the spacedock instead of down.
The Ewelock security hub followed the same architectural pattern as any spacedock the Dark Watch had built during the last twenty-five years. Just more proof that the Overseer had zero imagination and that once he found a system that worked, he poured it in concrete across the galaxy. Or in this case, reinforced metal, huge clear panels, and massive firepower. Upper A to Z. Middle A to Z. Lower A to Z. Seventy-eight levels. Food storage units were always attached to Upper Levels A to O.