The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (31 page)

Hayden was lounging on one of the benches when Julia walked into the ready room off the armory.  He was dressed in his usual blue leathers with laced seams and his blue leather coat that skimmed the heels of his boots.  A sword with bronzed grip and an opal-esque stone in the hilt rested between his shoulders, and his blaster snug in its holster on his thigh.  It seemed too minimalistic a look for someone of Hayden’s considerable presence and experience.  He had to have many more weapons hidden out of sight.

“I’ll let you know when I find out anything.” Stephen said, adjusting the side fastenings on his vest as he left.

“Where do I start?” Julia asked Anora, who was zipping up her own vest.

“First you must wear a vest.  Then we will find you suitable weapons.”

Despite her twice-weekly range experience with the T60s and the APX, she wasn’t naïve enough to think this would be a cake walk.  Her state dinner adventure had given her a healthy respect for the sudden and unpredictable nature of combat situations.  No matter how prepared you thought you were, anything could, and usually did, happen.  Their current situation proved Julia’s case and point.  A run of the mill strike team defense had turned into a
give us back our colonel you alien assholes
mission of epic proportions.

The vest was bulky, but not heavy enough to weigh her down, and its pockets held everything for immediate survival.  She clipped the catches on the thigh holster and took the loaded APX and two spare clips from Anora, checked and holstered the sidearm before putting the clips in a vest pocket.  Anora attached a T60 to Julia’s vest and handed her two extra mags which Julia tucked between her breasts and the vest.  She took a deep breath to steady the nerves that had been growing with the added weight of the weapons.  It was vastly different to Anora helping her with her hair and makeup for the wedding.

“Strap this to your leg, under your BDUs.” Anora said, handing over a knife in a leather sheath.

“Do I need two knives?” Julia asked, showing Anora the one strapped to her right calf.  Mark had replaced the one she’d left buried in the Arcadian invader during the state dinner assault.

“No such thing as too many blades.” Hayden grinned with a
guess how many I have
look.  “Put it on your other thigh.”

She did as he suggested and stood straight again.  She felt about three inches shorter under everything, not sure how she’d move when the time came.

“This stuff looks lighter on TV.”

“If you were coming through the door to rescue me, I would be a happy man.” Hayden offered.

“I guess all this comes with the territory when you’re married to Colonel Holden.”

“Wouldn’t know.” He grinned, teasing. “Never hand-fasted a colonel.”

Anora’s lilting birdsong of a laugh made Julia’s own snort of amusement sound loud in the small room.  It was a comfort knowing these people had her back.

“So, how will this work?” She asked when silence smothered their hard won levity.

“You’ll fly because I don’t trust Garrett to get us there by the direct route.” Hayden arched a brow, his mouth tugging up to join it.

Stephen, despite having the X
2
had never managed to maneuver the gliders with any kind of useful skill.

“Oh, I see now,” Julia rose up on her toes, stretching her calves, fingers tucked into her belt. “You just needed a
Holden
to fly the glider.”

Hayden glanced at her, face blank.  It was obvious the thought had never entered his mind.  Julia was a glider pilot with the X
2
gene
and
she was Mark’s wife.  His team was complete in essentials, if not in the details.

“Good point.” Hayden nodded, white tresses rippling in the light.

If that wasn’t an omen for success, Julia didn’t know what was.

Chapter 24

The four of them ran up the ramp and into Glider one.  Julia closed the hatch with a thought and brought the little ship online as she took Mark’s seat at the console.  Flight control gave a scratchy permission through her earpiece and she thrust them into the portal.  The rainbow haze filling the windshield as Glider one whisked them across time and space to the co-ordinates Stephen’s scientists had configured, based on the energy trace.

Arcadia was a planet with its own system of moons, in a deserted neighborhood on the far side of Dragonus.  The entire tangled mess orbited twin green suns which looked more like two halves of a yoyo with glow-in-the-dark string writhing from its core.  To the naked eye it seemed simple enough to navigate safe passage and on the upside it was asteroid-free, which made materializing gliders into open space less complicated.  Provided the coronal mass ejections brought on by unpredictable solar flare activity didn’t vaporize you into oblivion on arrival. 

Four hours after the attack on Phoenix, Julia’s team was among the first to descend through the fiery mesosphere layers of Arcadia’s largest moon.  They were taking no chances.  As each glider exited its portal, it cloaked and nosedived after its fellows, the pilots using the holographic displays to keep formation.

“Anything?” Julia caught her lower lip between her teeth and kept her eyes on the alien landscape rushing up to meet them as she altered their angle of descent.

“Still scanning.” Stephen replied, his attention on the lower corner of the display while virtual glider icons continued to appear in holographic formation behind their own.

“Would it help to move in closer?” She suggested, jaw taut as she brought Glider one to a textbook hover five-hundred feet above the deck.  Patience had never been one of her strong suits.

“Yes.  But not until I’ve scanned for the radiation signature of their ship.”

Julia drummed her fingernails on the edge of the console, the repetitive clicks just loud enough to irritate.  Stephen eyed her, deep gouge of annoyance between his brows, and she stopped; pulling her hand into her lap and clutching it tight to its mate.

“Ha-ha! I’ve got it.” Stephen crowed, what seemed like eons later. “They have been here.”

“Do they still remain here?” Anora asked from her seat behind Stephen, leaning over his shoulder to read the display for herself.

“Well, I don’t know.  That’s where the going in closer and searching part of this plan comes in.”

“Attention all gliders, Doctor Garrett’s confirmed the ship we’re after has been here.” Julia radioed.  “Sending search parameters now.”

“This is Dawson, beginning designated search now.”

“Copy that, Major.”

“Stephen, would you mind running over the plan again, please?” The lines of her body as tight and straight as her mouth.

Stephen bit off his retort, closing his mouth with an audible click when he caught her expression. “The gliders scan their section of the planet, searching for the ship matching the energy pattern of the one that attacked Phoenix and scanning for life signs.  More specifically, Colonel Holden’s transmitter signal.”

Julia nodded for him to continue.  Her gaze watchful of Major Dawson’s wing tip at two o’clock.

“If we find it, we land, attack them, and take him back.” Stephen concluded with a
da dah
tone that made her feel like she should be applauding.

“When.”

“What?” Stephen half-turned in his chair, annoyance evident in the lines around his pursed mouth.

“When
we find him.”

The display bleeped into the awkward silence that followed her optimism.

“There’s an entire fleet of those ships ahead.” Stephen’s voice cracked in panic.

“Can you tell if it’s among them?” Hayden asked, leaning over Julia’s chair.

“Yes I can, and yes it is.”

The atmosphere within the cockpit of Glider one, eased considerably; as its four occupants inhaled a collective breath.  The space barracks on Arcadia’s seventh moon was the right haystack.

“Wings, calling all gliders.  We’ve located the ship amongst its fleet, two clicks north of our current position.”

“All pilots keep formation and land three hundred yards from the compound.  Acknowledge.” Hayden ordered in a deep growl no one would ever think of disobeying.

Julia used the display to maneuver Glider one to the center of the semi-circle line up of cloaked ships and landed with a gentle thud, before opening the hatch.  It was disconcerting to watch heavily-armed Marines appearing from out of nowhere and to take up their positions.

Hayden signaled, and as a unit they advanced on the Nahfenite dome nestled within a meadow of azure five-point flowers, and flanked by a legion of towering ashwoods festooned in cherry-blossom pink foliage that rustled overhead.  Julia spared no more than a passing glance for the landscape around her and followed tight on Hayden’s heels.  The T60 ready in her hands while a single thought ran like a hamster on a wheel in her mind. 

Mark’s transmitter signal was yet to register on any of the copious tech Stephen had brought with them.

The strike team lined up along the exterior wall, ready to enter the compound on Hayden’s signal.  He kicked in the surprisingly flimsy door and tossed a couple of stun grenades.  Six seconds and they were stampeding through the narrow door.  Fanning out like every single training exercise had taught them to do.  Julia stayed with Hayden as he had expressly ordered her to do.  As the smoke cleared they found themselves in an empty open room with barred doors following the curve of the wall. 

Her heart leaped in her chest. 

A prison meant prisoners.

“Anything?” Julia whispered around the lump in her throat, she was asking that a lot.

Stephen was already scanning for life signs on the screen strapped to his thigh.

“Four below, looks like three levels down.”

Major Dawson signaled six of his men to investigate.

“Check those cells.” Hayden ordered.

Four Marines broke ranks and started clanging the iron doors open, yelling
clear
each time, until…

“Sir, I’ve got something.” A Marine signaled to Major Dawson and Hayden, his shoulders rigid as he backed away from the dark maw of the cell.

Julia’s breath was tight in her chest, body frozen in place while her heart pounded for freedom against her ribs.  Stephen had said there were no life signs; none except the ones three levels down.

“Julia.” Hayden called her; used her given name instead of the one she used on missions.

She didn’t want to acknowledge his summons, didn’t want to see what he’d seen.  But her body moved anyway; ignoring the petrified girl huddled inside, and scuffing the soles of her boots on the uneven floor.

It was dark, damp, and dirty in the six-by-three cell.  Julia gasped, raised her hand over her mouth and turned her face into Hayden’s chest; hiding from the image forever burned on her retinas.  The weight of Hayden’s arm across her back held her upright, but offered no comfort.

A body, wearing Phoenix off-world regs and Mark’s flight jacket, lay motionless and moldering in the filth at their feet.

“It is not him.” Hayden whispered after a second inspection, each word coated thick with relief. “It is not Holden, Julia.”

“No, it’s not Colonel Holden.” Stephen confirmed from his position next to the corpse. “This guy’s been dead far longer than six hours.”

Julia turned from Hayden’s hold, gaze critical of every detail, now the shock had begun to wear off.  The unfortunate man was shorter and bigger around the middle; Mark’s BDUs and jacket too small.  In a trance she moved closer, shaking Anora’s hand from her shoulder, sinking to her knees.  She had spotted something no one else had noticed. 

The corpse was wearing Mark’s ring.

It slid free with no resistance and Julia held it tight, pressing her fist over her heart in an attempt to summon Mark to her.  She knew without looking the words engraved on the inside of the band. 
Two halves made whole
.  Julia slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand and stared at the blue sparks in the dull light, oblivious to everyone around her.

“Julia?” Stephen tugged her sleeve to get her attention.  His hand open and offered toward her, two sets of dog tags on his palm; their chains dangling between his fingers.

“In case all that’s left is a severed limb.” Mark said, answering her innocent question with a brusque matter-of-factness born from years of military service, and tucked the second set of tags into his boot.  She wished she hadn’t asked and buried her face into Mark’s pillow; his scent going a long way toward soothing her.

These Arcadians had gone to some trouble in the creation of their deception.  The laser-honed edges of the thin hologram tags pressed into Julia’s palm as she crushed her fingers around them.  Grief rushed up her throat, unable to be contained a second longer, left her shivering in the aftermath of her scream.

“Get it off!”

She clawed at the jacket, tried to remove it from the corpse before Mark’s scent could be tainted by death.  Convinced his chances of survival would diminish with every second it stayed where it was.

“Get. It. Off!”

Anora pulled her back, nodding to two Marines who rolled the corpse and removed the jacket with the same economy of movement used to field strip a T60.  One brought it over to her and she clutched the worn leather to her chest like a toddler with a security blanket.

“Sirs?” The squad leader of the team sent to investigate the life signs three levels down stood at attention in front of both Major Dawson and Hayden. “No luck with finding the Colonel, Sir, just four guards on a break.  They fired on us but we took care of them, even brought you back a prisoner.”

The prisoner’s massive bulk hung limp from the waist between two Marines, drooling Pepto-Bismol pink blood on the ground.  Hayden strode over and lifted the lolled head by one misshapen ear then dropped him again.

“He is still alive.” He growled, referring to Mark, not the prisoner.

“Yes.” Anora agreed. “Or they would not go to such effort to make us believe he is not?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, he’s not here.” Stephen declared, tapping on his palmpod and missing Hayden’s lethal glare.

“This place is obviously a holding complex before they ship them elsewhere.” Major Dawson surmised, swinging the barred door, only to stop when it emitted a protesting screech. “And why haven’t we met any resistance?  We’ve searched the whole place and found only those four three levels down.  With all those ships out there, where are the crews?”

It was a question no one present could answer.

“You three, report back to your glider with the prisoner.” Hayden ordered. “Garrett did you see any other structures when you were scanning the area? Like a barracks or a base?”

Stephen sprang to his feet, nodding along with the speed of his thoughts. “Yes, yes, the other side of the ships.  It’s too far for this to pick up anything.  We need to get closer.”

“We’d risk losing our surprise if we go that far on foot.” Major Dawson reminded Hayden.

Hayden pivoted in a swirl of blue leather and fury. “Fall back to the gliders.”

Julia was right behind Hayden, Mark’s ring on her finger, his dog tags in her thigh pocket, and his jacket tucked in her belt.  There was still hope.

Five minutes and she had Glider one cloaked and hovering over the barracks, while Stephen scanned for Mark’s transmitter signal.

“Nothing.”

Hayden thumped a fist into the hull overhead, cursing in Thuranic as he loomed between Stephen and Julia’s chairs.

“Set down over there.” He gestured out the windshield to a stand of trees with tiger-striped trunks at the rear of the building. “Anora, with me.  Wings stay here, Garrett look after her.”

“Hayd-”

Her protest died mid-word under the weight of Hayden’s flinty glare, remembering her assurance to obey his every order on this mission.

“Might need a quick getaway.”

She nodded, unhappy but obedient. “Of course.”

Hayden tapped Anora’s shoulder and she moved down the ramp; eyes scanning for threats, her T60 caught tight in the hollow of her shoulder.

Julia closed the ramp and sat holding Mark’s jacket as a talisman for their success.  Stephen immersed himself in the world of his screen so she wouldn’t draw him into conversation.  He needn’t have bothered.  Conversation was the last thing she wanted, or needed.  She was busy trying to channel Mark to let him know they were looking for him, to stay safe, and to stay alive.

It was a silent glide back to Phoenix. 

Hayden and Anora had returned unchallenged and empty-handed.  All they had to show for their wasted efforts were Mark’s tags, jacket, and wedding ring.  And the unconscious prisoner, who may, or more likely not, have useful Intel.  Julia was glad she wasn’t him.  No one would want to be in an empty room facing Hayden when he had carte blanche to extract the information he wanted.

“I’ll expand the range of the glider’s sensors.  It might help.” Stephen thought aloud into the silence suffocating them all. “At least it did when we were tracking Hayden two years ago.”