The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (30 page)

“I see.” Mr Clayton nodded and tapped his fingers across his tablet’s screen. “My apologies, Julia, I am sure you understand my concern.  Especially, when you consider the very short timeline on which these events took place.”

“It’s my experience that timelines are mercurial in nature and therefore cannot be confined to any one set of parameters.”

“Er, yes.” Mr Clayton cleared his throat and nodded like a bobble-head. “An excellent observation.”

“Thank you.” Julia tucked a wayward strain of hair behind her ear and offered a delicate sniff into the awkward silence filling the room.

“Well, thank you again, Julia, for meeting with me.  I hope your holiday was nice…” Mr Clayton paused, hopeful of more information.

It wasn’t a need-to-know top secret mission so Julia told him.

“Yes, thank you.  Dragonus is full of both friends and foes, isn’t it?”

“This city is the furthest I’ve been from home.  Perhaps now, I shall see more of Dragonus’ sights, than I did of Earth’s.” Mr Clayton smiled, wistful; the action lightening his face and making him almost handsome, before it faded into what Julia realized were the marks of grief. “My Eleanor always wanted to travel.”

She offered a small smile and held out her hand in the hopes of bringing the interview to a close. “Mr Clayton.”

“Julia.” He had a surprisingly firm handshake and a dry, warm palm.

It wasn’t until she had left Mr Clayton’s office and was striding down the corridor that she let herself take a deep relieved breath.  She had set him straight on the issues that mattered, and learned a bit about him as well.  The departure of Eleanor, whether through death or divorce, seemed recent, and likely explained his presence in Dragonus – four million light years from Earth.  A goodly distance for separating yourself from any problems you wanted to escape.  A strategy her beloved colonel had once employed.

Julia asked the universe to look kindly on Mr Clayton and turned down the corridor leading to her team’s offices.  It was time to find out what new protocols had been added to their chapter of Mr Clayton’s book.  Kate embraced her before she could fully walk into the cupboard they laughingly called a briefing room.

“Welcome back, have a good time?” Levi winked from where he stood next to the coffee maker.  It was hard to tell whether he was leaning or if the cabinet was holding him up, since he was only three cups into his daily quota. 

“Meh, it was okay.” She blushed under her team’s knowing laughter.

“Didn’t expect to see you so early on your first day back.” Brendon rumbled, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Or walking.”

Kate slapped Zeb’s arm and he pulled her into his lap, ignoring her playful squeals before plonking her into the adjacent chair.

“Clayton.” Julia ignored Zeb’s teasing in favor of answering Brendon’s question.

“Been there, done that.” Zeb groaned. “He’s working his way through everyone.”

“I got that much.  Implied I’d married Mark to gain a place here in Phoenix and advance my career.”

Brendon and Levi whistled long and slow into the stunned silence.

“Is he still breathing?” Kate asked, half-joking.

“Yes, well at least he was when I left him.” Julia huffed. “In a way I’m glad my interview was before Mark’s.”

The image of Mr Clayton cowering under the weight of Mark’s arched and disapproving eyebrow was an amusing one.

“Mr Clayton is no longer in doubt of my motives, abilities, or feelings.”

“I’m sure he isn’t.” Zeb murmured around the rim of his coffee mug.

“So, if everyone’s okay with it, I’d like to forget about Mr Clayton and get on with our day.”

There were nods and
yesses
as Rescue one settled noisily around the rectangular table.

Chapter 23

The concussion blast from an explosion somewhere to the west of main building lasted long enough to rattle Julia’s bones and the crockery on the counter top in front of her.  Voices united in a babbling hum, turning the subdued Mess hall into a turkey farm at feeding time, as people tried to process what had happened.

“This is Wings, where do you need me?” She asked into her radio.

“Wings?” Mark answered sharp and immediate. “Where are you?”

“Mess hall.  Everyone here’s okay.”

“Get your team to the Oceanic Studies lab, north quay sub-level nine.  A strike team will meet you there.”

“Copy.” Julia tapped off her link with Mark and radioed her team.

They had no idea what they were headed into, but it had to be big.  Despite the blast’s origin centering in the Sciences Division, three towers left-of-center in Phoenix’s tiara layout, aftershocks had rattled the main building; leaving tell-tale cracks in the otherwise pristine white walls and broken panes in the ornate windows.

Her combat boots clumped on the floor as she ran down the corridor from the relocator alcove nearest the Oceanic’s lab.  Brendon, Levi, Kate, and Zeb, appeared at the junction ahead, each carrying an orange jump bag.  Julia could smell the location before they got there.  Gray smoke ebbed and flowed above their heads, rippling like the underside of a storm cloud as it sought a way out.  Small isolated fires of chemical-green and purple flames gave the lab the eerie feel of a witch’s lair; the concoction of lethal potions gone awry.

Six bodies caught in grotesque contortions of charred flesh were scattered amongst the debris of work benches and equipment she had no names for.  Her team fanned out, the checking for survivors; a pointless formality.

She froze, her hand to her ear and mouth open ready to report, when through the gaping, still-sizzling crater in the exterior wall, marched ten armored-up Arcadians; tribal tattoos stark and brown as old blood against their grotesque orange musculature.

Unarmed, Julia and her team posed no threat and were simply ignored.  The alien soldiers, having achieved a successful breach of an unprepared Phoenix City, marched over the dead and out into the corridor. 

“Colonel Holden.” She whispered into her radio, once it was just her team in the lab again. “Come in.”

“Go for Holden.”

“You’ve got a squad of Arcadian’s coming your way, down the sub-level nine corridor.”

“Understood.  Stay put.”

He cut their connection just as gunfire and laser blasts screeched painfully in her ear.

“We need to stay here.” Julia turned her attention to her stunned team.

Their job had become recovery, rather than rescue, and despite the unpleasantness of the task, it was preferable to awaiting the outcome of the battle down the corridor.  Levi checked the names of the dead against the digital manifest glowing on the tablet strapped to his thigh as she called them out.  Kate had taken out the black body bags and with Zeb’s help, was preparing each victim for their trip to the morgue.  Julia could’ve sworn the gunfire was growing louder.

The Arcadian’s were beating a hasty retreat and dragging an unconscious Colonel Holden by the back of his TAC vest.  Their rear guard returning the fire of Phoenix’s advancing strike teams with short sharp bursts of bright blue light.  The stench of ozone blending with that of scorched flesh and exposed chemicals of the decimated lab.

“DOWN!” Hayden bellowed as he charged into the debris in pursuit of the enemy and his friend.  Body art absorbing the light from the neon green flames, igniting the fury in his eyes as his hair thrashed around his shoulders like Medusa’s asps, blaster releasing deafening volleys of white-gold energy into an already apocalyptic atmosphere of death and destruction.

She dropped to the ground, hands over her head in a pathetic attempt to protect herself; mind screaming on a panicked loop as imminent grief loomed out of the chaos toward her.  Julia was the most terrified she’d ever been in her entire life, engulfed in hailstorm of T60 fire punctuated by the growl of Hayden’s blaster; no quarter given or sought.  She peeked over the rubble and whimpered as Mark was slung over an Arcadian’s shoulder, limp and vulnerable against their seven foot bulk.  The edges of the round shell it wore on its back glowed red.  A piercing whine adding to the hurricane of sounds as the pattern of lights cycled faster and faster until both warrior and Julia’s husband were jettisoned skyward.

They were out of her line of sight and she scrambled over charred debris, oblivious to the ash on her skin and the stench she breathed in, Hayden’s warning to keep down still loud in her mind.  She had to see, had to make it to the hole, had to lay eyes on the ship that was robbing her of her love, had to see the direction they took in order to follow.  Strong arms grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back.  She thrashed; fought against the strength keeping her from her goal.

They had Mark.  What right did they have to waltz in and take what was hers?  Darkness threatened at the limit of her vision.  She couldn’t breathe.  Her heart galloped in frantic surges, bruising itself against her ribs; pain feasted on her agony as her lover’s name tore loose on a scream, only to mock her with its echo.

“MARK!”

Hayden held her tighter.

“No!” She whispered, hoarse and desperate, hands clutching to blue leather as her knees gave way beneath her.

Julia’s gaze was fixed skyward, her body slumped within Hayden’s rigid embrace; the Arcadian ship gone from Phoenix’s atmosphere.  There was no point in struggling anymore; even as Hayden lowered her to the floor and growled into his earpiece.  What he said made no difference.  Mark was gone and the place within her ached and quivered beyond the telling of it.

~*~

Hayden would tear apart the galaxy to get his friend back.  Julia knew.  She understood because it was exactly how she felt too.  But she was scared.  Fear ached deep in her bones; an unspoken whisper in the back of her mind.  They knew who had taken Mark, but the Arcadians had settlements throughout the length and breadth of Dragonus.  Finding him would be impossible.

Leaving Brendon in charge of the recovery, she went with Hayden and the others to the conference room.  Fear and desolation were her only companions beneath a cloak of fuzziness separating her from everything; voices garbled as if they were underwater.

Someone guided her to a chair and molded her hands around a glass of water; lifting it to her lips when it started to slip from her grasp.  It could have been aviation fuel for all the attention she was able to pay.  But the water had the desired effect, and the cocoon receded.  A shockwave of arguing voices crashing over her as her mind returned her to the moment.  Anora smiled when she saw Julia’s gaze refocusing.

“Better?”

She nodded once, thanked her friend with a look, and stood up to join the discussion.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Her question executed all conversation and drew every eye in the room to her.  Mr Clayton looked at her with sympathy, as did many others, but the rest avoided direct eye contact.  The atmosphere was one of defeat, and Julia, was disgusted.

“M-Colonel Holden knows that we will come for him, and he will stay alive no matter what, until we do.”

“Every moment we waste bickering, they get further away.” She turned, eyes searching out one person in particular. “Stephen, what’s the plan?”

There was a shuffling of feet and the creak of chair springs as people shifted in their seats.  The silence stretched and morphed but didn’t break, and Julia slumped back into her chair. “Have we got
anything?
  At all?”

She sensed Stephen’s desire to provide useful answers; especially with the entire room’s weight of expectation bearing down on him.  Hayden had moved to her side, a large hand gripping tight on her shoulder in support.  He also wanted an answer to her question; something to unleash him on the galaxy so he could bring Mark home. 

“We have their ship’s radiation signature and we’re tracking using the LORA sensors.  But it’s like looking for a single needle in a bazillion haystacks.”

“Will that prevent us?” Hayden growled.

“No, of course not.” Stephen answered, shying away from the rage emanating from Hayden’s steely gaze. “But it is important to be aware of the enormity of the task before rushing in.”

Hayden opted for a withering stare over the inadequacy of speech to express his displeasure and Stephen fidgeted under its weight. “Also there’s Colonel Holden’s DNA transmitter.  Provided they don’t know about it, or can’t turn it off.  Once we locate their ship’s energy reading, and get close enough, we can find him with the glider’s display, go in, and rescue him.”

“Great.” Julia said. “How do we locate the ship?”

“I have people tracking their signature via portal trace.  It’s an algorithm I created which opens multiple portals throughout the galaxy at one time.  It’s similar, though infinitely more complex, to an APB the police use when they’re searching for felons.  We’ll analyze the feedback to ascertain if their ship’s energy reading can be detected.  When they find something you’ll know.”

Julia loosened her grip on the chair arms.  It wasn’t much, but there was something they could do.

“Major Dawson, organize strike teams to be ready to go the moment Doctor Garrett has coordinates.” Mr Clayton ordered.

“Yes, Sir.”

Lieutenant Flynn followed the major from the crowded room, nodding as he received his orders.

“Mr Clayton.” Julia spoke quietly amid the din of exiting department heads. “Hayden, Anora, and Doctor Garrett, will need a pilot.”

She glanced up at Hayden and he nodded.  He knew she would obey his orders and she wouldn’t be a liability in a combat situation.  There was no way in hell she’d be made to stay home like the little wifey.  Hayden knew it.  And Mr Clayton knew it too.  He paused for two breaths, weighing up the risk of sending her out with the teams versus having her remain her on Phoenix, hounding him every moment.

“Yes, Julia.” He nodded, resigned. “I’m assigning you as temporary pilot for Glider one.”

There was little doubt in the minds of those keeping witness to the conversation, that when Colonel Holden returned Mr Clayton would receive an earful for having let Julia go.  It was a moot point.  None of the men in Julia Holden’s life could prevent her anyway.  And they all knew it.  Well, Hayden could have, what with being a towering pillar of muscle; but he was on her side.  Mark wasn’t the only Holden with a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

“How long before we have a lead, Doctor Garrett?”

“At this point, I have no idea.” Stephen shrugged his broad shoulders and pushed his glasses back up the long slope of his nose. “I’ll check up on progress and get back to you.”

Mr Clayton nodded, then nodded a second time as if computing Stephen’s answer to memory and making his own estimates, before leading the rest of them from the room.

“Julia.”

She pivoted, and waited for Hayden to catch her up.

“It will get rough.  Are you sure about this?” Hayden gripped her upper arms and searched her eyes for the truth.

“I know, and no.  I’m not sure, but I’m not staying behind.” Her mouth was a thin line of bitter resentment as she sniffed and fought back the sudden onset of tears burning at the corners of her eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t slow you down.”

“No, you will not.” She couldn’t decipher from his hard expression whether Hayden meant it as a command or a confirmation. “Gear up.”

“I’ll meet you there.  I just have to catch up with my team.”

He nodded, and with a final squeeze of large hands over her biceps, he strode away; blue leather coat a dramatic flourish in his wake.

Julia found Levi and Zeb in the supply room restocking the jump bags.

“Hey.”

Both men looked up, neither one offering their usual open smiles.

“Zeb, you’ll be piloting Rescue one for the next while.”

He nodded.  It was hardly unexpected news, knowing her as well as they did.

“I’ve gotta go, get geared up.” She shuddered.  The tears that’d threatened earlier with Hayden brimmed on her lashes and blurred her vision.

Levi pulled her into a bracing hug and thumped her on the back. “Stay safe, Wings.”

“Thanks, you too.” She whispered back, feeling stronger as she walked back to the relocator.

~*~

Julia changed from jeans to BDUs and laced her boots, tied her hair in a ponytail and left their quarters in a rush.  Reminders of Mark wouldn’t help her focus.  In fact, they were more likely to turn her into an emotional wreck and she’d be no use to anyone.  She took the relocator and hit the indicator for the armory on the fifth level.  It was just a mission.  No different than the fifty others she’d participated in since making Phoenix City her home.  She would do what was required.  Julia stifled the lecturing voice in her head telling her how wrong she was, that it wasn’t just a mission.  It was
the
mission; the one that would determine the rest of her life.  With a growl of rage, she slammed the mental door, drowning out the voice.