The Bounty Hunter: Soldier's Wrath (4 page)

Natalie stepped into the room until
she was standing next to his armor. The battle aegis was nearly worth the same
amount as his ship, and his ship had been expensive. The armor had extensive
combat capabilities: networking for weapons, close combat blades in the arms, a
high jump mechanism, a grappling line, and, most importantly, the capacity to
house Cass. The armored suit also provided him protection from most hostile
environments, able to provide him with sustenance, oxygen, and hydration, while
keeping him sealed off from hazards and enemy projectiles. After owning the
aegis for years, he sometimes felt more comfortable while he was wearing it
than when he wasn’t.

“Now,” Natalie began. “I can show
you how I managed to take a month off from ACU to visit you.”

“Oh you brought the things with
you?” Cass asked excitedly. Her voice filled the room just like it had the
previous one.

“I had two weeks available for some
time away,” Natalie explained. “I was able to justify a full month by making
part of this a business trip.”

“You’re just here to make some
money for your job,” Burke teased, shaking his head. “I see how it is.”

Natalie smirked. She took out her
tablet phone from her pocket and held it flat in her hand. She pressed quickly
through multiple menus before a holographic projection of Burke’s armor shimmered
from the tablet. Cass dimmed the lights in the room so that they could better
see the blue outline of the aegis.

“We’ve made several advancements in
kinetic shielding,” Natalie said, weaving her hand around the hologram. Tiny
bullets appeared over the projection and collided into the armor. A faint outline
surrounded the aegis when each bullet landed, wobbling as it resisted the force
of each impact. “Mostly in regards to power consumption. You should have less
to worry about with that, Cass.”

The display changed abruptly. The
bullets vanished. The projection honed in on the left arm of the armor and
magnified it, so that only the arm continued to float over the device in
Natalie’s hand. Two prongs ejected from the wrist portion of the armor, each at
a right angle to the hand piece. A line of what first appeared to be lightning
snaked along the prongs and then expanded quickly to fill a large circle around
the armor’s forearm.

“Is that a shield?” Burke asked,
stepping closer.

“Oh, you finally got it working!”
Cass exclaimed.

“We barely have it working,”
Natalie said modestly. “The blade in the left arm of the armor will have to be
removed to accommodate the extra energy stores to power the shield. It will be
able to withstand virtually any bullet. It will feel like a solid surface to
the touch, but is completely weightless.”

“I told her that it would be more
useful than the second blade,” Cass explained.

“You knew about these already?”
Burke asked.

“I didn’t know we would get the
shield so soon,” Cass said. “But I purchased the upgrades for us. Natalie gets
to stay longer. Everyone wins.”

Burke thought Cass sounded nervous
as she spoke. He had been urging her to make more decisions independently of
him when their relationship had drastically changed since being stranded on
Meidum. Still, he could sense that she was cautious about making too many
decisions without him; they were still partners, after all. He saw nothing
wrong with her choices. He nodded at the shield.

“This is good, Cass,” he said.

“That I get to stay longer?”
Natalie asked.

“That too,” he added.

“I brought a tracking launcher
too,” she said. “I can install that on the left shoulder plate. Cass can
operate it. I’m surprised you don’t already have one.”

“I thought after Lumen and Shaw
almost got away from us that we could use it,” Cass said.

Burke nodded once again. The
projection faded away and the room’s lights slowly brightened. He stepped
forward to his armor, propped up in the middle of the room, all of its pieces
locked together like someone was wearing it. He pointed to the shallow cuts
that it had sustained during his last job. Natalie frowned at them.

“Must have been some weapon to cut
through this,” she said. “I can fix it while I’m here. For free. Maybe we can
work something out.”

Their eyes locked after she spoke.
In that moment, Burke felt at peace with how big of a change it was to have her
on the ship. It was only a few months ago that he had been arguing with Cass
about limiting the ship’s bedrooms to only his, determined to continue living
in exile from the people that had once been in his life. He relished that
moment as he looked at Natalie.

Rylan’s voice came through the same
speaker system that Cass used.

“Captain,” he said. “There’s a call
for you. He said it was important. He won’t talk to me.”

The moment fell away from Burke. He
kept a gentle grasp on the calmness he felt as he walked to the front of the
ship. Natalie followed behind him. Rylan was seated in front of the ship’s main
window. The layered consoles and screens around him made it appear like he was
partially sunk into the ship. The main screen was currently blank, showing a
transmission currently on hold.

“Who is it?” Burke asked.

“I don’t know Captain,” Rylan
answered.

“Call me Jack, please.”

“Sorry,” the pilot murmured.

“Put him through.”

He let out a breath as Rylan
entered a command on the ship’s console. Burke wasn’t used to people contacting
him directly. He was used to messages through Cass or his personal computer,
planning times that worked for the sleep schedules of both locations. The calls
he did make, he did so privately in his room. He prepared himself for something
bad but, when Geoff’s face appeared on the screen, he was still caught off
guard.

The old man looked awful. He was in
a bed in a brightly lit room. Someone had placed a computer or propped up a
phone on a table over the bed. Half of Geoff’s head was covered in a plastic
wrap, including his left eye, sealing regeneration fluid against his flesh. His
right eye was swollen enough that Burke could barely see the color of his iris.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Tell your man to set a course for
Tali,” Geoff barked. “Fuck it, I’ll tell him. Set the ship for the jump gate to
Tali. Now.”

Injured as he was, his voice was as
clear and emotive as ever. Rylan glanced back at Burke. He nodded once and the
pilot set to work immediately, angling the ship in the direction of the gate.
Their ship, the Brisbane, was currently in the Prime system after picking up
Natalie from another jump gate.

“What happened?” Cass asked, her
voice filling the room.

“Are you moving?” Geoff asked.

“Yes,” Burke answered.

The man visibly relaxed in the bed.
His right eye softened, revealing that he had been glaring even through the
bloated, damaged flesh around his eye. Burke watched as Geoff seemed to be
stressed by the simple act of breathing.

“I just woke up from surgery,”
Geoff began. He tried to motion to his shoulder, winced, and lowered his arm.
There was a protective layer around his chest, similar to what was stretched
over part of his head. The liquid floating around his torso was murky and
bloodied. Parts of it looked black. Burke recognized it all too well.

“You were shot,” he said, more as a
statement than a question.

“Isaac Paxton,” Geoff tensed up as
he said the name. His chest heaved upwards and he forced himself to lay back
down.

Burke knew immediately what had
happened and where they were going. He felt his fingernails suddenly dig into
the palms of his hands. He stared at Geoff through the screen for what felt
like a long time. Neither of the men spoke. Burke nearly recoiled away when
Natalie set a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Burke moved his head once in a
short nod. It was a tiny movement.

“Kristen’s in the Tali system?” he
asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Geoff rasped.

“Paxton didn’t shoot you himself.
He sent some of his people?”

“Yes.”

“What planet is she on?” Cass
asked. “Give me her location and I can look for her while we’re traveling.”

“Frey,” Geoff said, closing his
right eye. “One of the floating cities. Stheno. I’ll send you the address.”

“Are they ahead of us?” Burke
asked.

“Half a day. Maybe more. I woke up
in the hospital before they took me into surgery. Fucking doctors wouldn’t
listen to me. They wouldn’t let me call.”

“What did they want?”

“They wanted to know if Burke
Monrow was alive,” Geoff said. A painful smile spread over his mouth. “I told
them you were dead.”

Rylan’s back abruptly straightened
in his chair. Burke felt a buzzing begin to grow around his ears. Natalie
looked toward the screen.

“I don’t think they believed me,”
Geoff continued. “I couldn’t hide where Kristen was from them. She’s my
daughter. She’s family! I keep her in my fucking contact list for fuck’s sake.”

The old man cleared his throat,
which prompted a long series of coughing fits. More than once he stopped to
clutch at his chest. Rylan turned around and looked at Burke, and then at Cass
behind him, like he was seeing them for the first time.

“I think it’s a trap,” Geoff said,
after he finally stopped coughing. “They’ll reach Kristen before you but they
won’t take her. They want to see if I’ll call you for help. Which I have to, of
course, here we fucking are, it’s the only reason they didn’t kill me. Paxton
is frightened of you, Burke. He knows you’ll try to stop him from taking my
daughter. Maybe then he’ll try to kill you.”

“He’s scared of me?” Burke
repeated.

“He’s been in hiding since you last
saw him,” Geoff said. “He’s terrified. He was nearly shaking when he mentioned
your name. This is bad.”

“Bad?” Burke asked. “It should be a
good thing that he’s scared.”

“Not after all this time,” Natalie
interjected. “He’s had years to plan. Years of being scared, planning out of
terror that you’ll somehow get ahead of him. He’ll have been meticulous and
careful. Fear can be quite the motivator.”

“Exactly,” Geoff coughed again.

Burke turned to her. It was his
turn to look at someone like he couldn’t recognize them. He could feel Rylan’s
stare burning into him the same way he looked at her. The buzzing was growing
louder in his ears.

“Go into the trap,” Geoff closed
his eyes again. “Save Kristen. Then kill the motherfucker. I’ll pay you—”

“You don’t need to,” Burke said.
“We’re long passed that.”

“I’ll send you updates,” Cass said.
“When we get to the gate. When we get to Frey.”

“Thank you.”

Burke nodded. The screen went
blank. He felt something trigger inside of him, changing the moment the screen
switched off. The room suddenly felt enormous around him, stretching out and
impossibly far away, ready to swoop back in and consume him. Rylan and Natalie
were staring at him. He couldn’t speak to Cass with the two of them next to
him, not in the way he needed to.

He felt like he had just been
deposited into someone else’s life. A few months ago it was just him and Cass,
partners alone on their ship. Now there were too many people looking at him for
answers. Natalie’s concern stabbed into him deeply. Rylan was now a potential
threat, capable of compromising his entire life. Geoff was desperate; he had
never seen the old man look so broken. The thought of Lumen struck him and
knocked him further off balance—yet another complication that had entered his
life seemingly from nowhere. Worst of all was Cass. She expected him to deal
with it and to recover, stabilize and handle things as well she could. Worst of
all was his fear that he would disappoint her.

“I need a minute,” he said lowly.

“Burke,” Natalie began.

He closed his eyes and inhaled
deeply. He felt her hand once again on his shoulder. He shrugged away from her
and walked quickly out of the room.

* * *

Isaac felt anxious as he stared
around his room. The lone cat he owned was on his lap and he stroked her head
absentmindedly. The cat, a large tabby named Sunday, sat nicely and purred to
his touch. He barely felt it.

He had paid extravagant amounts of
money making sure his time in isolation was a comfortable one. He had been high
enough in the ranks of the Torrentus Cartel to justify handling things
remotely, through the many proxy agents he had established over the years. He
used credits from his own savings, and slaves from his personal stock, to
construct the facility ship that he now lived in. The ship was large but he had
many needs.

His personal ship had been built
into the larger one. He often moved between his personal rooms in the larger
ship—protected by several reinforced doors at its only entrance—and his old
vessel. Combined, they felt like a larger home. Much of his furniture was made
from non-synthetic materials, an unnecessary luxury that he refused to live
without. The rich colors of the wooden desks and cabinets complemented any color
he chose for the carpets and walls; most surfaces were alterable, capable of
changing at a simple command at the room’s main terminal. The walls and carpets
could change from red to brown, or white to gray. The tall picture frames
dotted around the room housed display screens that could also change and cycled
through multiple paintings each day.