Mercenary Courage (Mandrake Company) (6 page)

“I could get a room,” she murmured, “for tonight.”

She had yet to back away from him, and he had yet to lower his hand. He rubbed her back through her shirt, breathing in her scent, even as he wrestled with his sense of duty. True, he had already decided that little could be gained from him going back to the ship that night. It was more the appearance of privilege that concerned him, the fact that the men would know he was off on the station with Ankari when they were denied the chance to go seek companionship of their own.

“I’ve missed you,” Ankari whispered and nuzzled his neck.

The soft brushes of her lips against his skin sent shivers of sensation through his entire body. He grew sharply aware of her every slight movement against his groin. His trousers stretched uncomfortably tight, and he longed to relieve that discomfort.

“Get a room,” Viktor said. “I’ll—”

A comm beeped, the sound muted by clothing. It must have been hers, the unit buried in a pocket, but she did not immediately reach for it. She licked his throat as her fingers shifted through his hair, kneading his scalp. She leaned into him, rubbing against the erection that pressed against her stomach.

“Excited to see me?” she murmured.

“Always.”

If she did not reserve a room, he might have to. All thoughts of checking on the ship had fled his mind. His hand lowered until he could cup her ass, pulling her into him, against him. He longed to tear off her clothes, the passersby be damned.

“We should do something about that,” Ankari whispered below his ear. She stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips along the bottom of his lobe. She sucked playfully at it, and electricity rocketed through his body.

“Ankari,” he growled.

Her comm beeped again.

“Are you going to answer that?” he asked, though he did not care if she did. He simply wanted to move away from the busy area, to take her someplace private. Every now and then, a small black security camera—or perhaps those spheres were news cameras—floated through the intersection. He grimaced, envisioning the men watching him grope his girlfriend on the station feed.

Ankari sighed and nipped at his lobe before dropping down to the flats of her feet. “I don’t know. I’d hate for you to escape if I do.” She licked her lips, her eyes locked on his, and she pressed her palm against his chest, as if to imprison him against the wall.

He grunted. As if he wanted to escape. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

He had not released her, nor did he intend to. He had to fight to keep from rocking his hips into her, giving in to the ache in his groin. Neither of them would find satisfaction with their clothes on, and those Station Security men getting off the sidewalk might object to public nudity.

“What is it?” Ankari murmured into her comm unit.

“The rat store is
still
closed,” Lauren announced.

“You went by yourself?” Ankari rolled her eyes at the silliness of the interruption, but she sounded amused, too, as if the likelihood of her microbiologist wandering around the station was low. Maybe it was. Viktor had rarely seen Lauren out of her lab.

“Jamie and I went. She said something about it perhaps being a good time not to be in the shuttle, in case visitors came. I didn’t get the full story there. But Ankari, this is unacceptable. What kind of space station doesn’t have rats?”

“I’m sure they’re there. The shopkeeper is probably sick. Or drunk. Or arrested.”

Viktor was about to make a comment on the bodies that had been found, but his own comm-patch beeped. Reluctantly, he released Ankari, letting her back away to continue her conversation while he started one of his own. He closed the flaps of his duster coat so the elderly ladies getting off the sidewalk with arms full of shopping bags would not think his trouser cannon had armed itself for
them
.

“Mandrake here.”

“Sir? It’s Sequoia. There’s a Captain Sherkov trying to get a hold of you. Do you want me to route him through to you?”

Viktor scowled. No, he did not. If not for the information Ankari had given him, Viktor would have told his lieutenant to hang up on the captain, preferably after playing some obnoxious hold music for a long time, perhaps that Goran tribal music that sounded like flatulent men beating drums. But he would be wise to gather whatever information he could related to the upcoming Fleet meeting and this admiral who wanted Viktor detained. His scowl deepened as he realized that quarantine could be particularly problematic if it meant the
Albatross
was still here when an armada of Fleet ships arrived. He would hope nothing came of those dead bodies, because his ship was in no position to leave yet.

“Do it,” Viktor said and braced himself.

“Captain Mandrake,” came Sherkov’s obnoxious drawl. “I’ve reconsidered your offer.”

“What offer?” Viktor asked.

“I would indeed like to test my fighting prowess against yours in the station gym tonight. They say you were Crimson Ops once. Do you remember anything they taught you, or have you been too busy painting your shuttles in sissy colors to practice on the mat?”

Viktor would have spat out an immediate response, but he was clenching his teeth too tightly to pry words from his mouth. A few feet away, Ankari was still murmuring back and forth with Lauren, but she must have heard Sherkov, because she frowned over at Viktor’s comm-patch.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, though he would have had to be brain-dead not to recognize a trap being set up. “You almost wet yourself earlier today when I suggested the match.”

“I assure you that was not the case. I merely had a dinner date with a sexy woman, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. But she agreed to meet me later, after I drill you a new asshole.”

Viktor jammed his hands into his pockets and debated whether anything could be gained by meeting the man. Could he turn this trap around and learn something useful? Or would he only be risking himself needlessly?

Ankari had finished her conversation and was watching him, the lust that had been in her eyes earlier replaced by concern. If he asked for her opinion, she would most likely tell him to avoid Sherkov and the gym tonight. It wasn’t bad advice, but the idea of backing down from a challenge
he
had made rankled. Between the failure at Nimbus and the mocking he had endured earlier, he felt his honor hanging about him in shreds, flapping in the breeze like the hem of his jacket.

Viktor muted his patch. “That message said Fleet wanted me
arrested
, right? Not dead?”

Ankari hesitated. “That’s what it said.”

That should mean that, no matter what this trap was, he was not in danger of being shot. Not tonight, anyway.

Viktor removed the mute. “What time, Sherkov?”

“You said eighteen hundred hours, didn’t you?”

Viktor checked the time. “Make it seventeen thirty.”

He would have to head straight to the gym, but Sherkov might have less time to set things up this way.

“What? Why?” Sherkov
did
sound alarmed. Good.

“
My
sexy woman doesn’t want to wait.” Viktor met Ankari’s eyes.

She gave him a quick smile, but she still looked like she wanted to advise him not to go through with the meeting.

“Can you make it, or not?” Viktor demanded, intentionally rushing the man.

“I, ah, to beat the arrogance out of you? Yes, of course.”

“Good.”

As soon as the call ended, Viktor pulled out his tablet, snapped it open, and brought up a map of the station.

“Do you need to go help your microbiologist?” he asked as he zoomed in on the gym. It was up on the tenth floor, overlooking several nests of birds in the trees of the atrium. It was probably designed to appeal to vacationers rather than hardcore military men; maybe that meant people would be in there, admiring the parrots while they jogged on treadmills. If it was busy, Sherkov wouldn’t set up his trap inside. He might choose the corridor leading up to it. Viktor traced the route with his finger, from lift to door. He also hunted around to see if there was another way inside, one that wouldn’t involve strolling down that main route.

“No, I need to help you,” Ankari said, sticking her hand through his floating map to tap him on the chest with her finger. “Even though I’m sure you wouldn’t be foolish enough to walk into a trap by yourself, I intend to back you up.”

“It’s less foolish to walk into a trap with someone else?”

“No, but I’m hoping you have a plan. I’ve observed that you’re slightly craftier than you look.”

“Only slightly?”

“Sorry, you’re no Gregor Thatcher.”

Viktor snorted and pulled Ankari close again, if only for a moment. He needed to leave shortly if he intended to make it to the gym on time. “Lucky for you,” he rumbled, kissing her on the forehead. “Or you’d have to play with model spaceships every time you visited my cabin.”

“I guess I am lucky.” She tugged at the front of his belt. “I like to play with other things.”

He wanted to take her off to that room rather than meeting anyone in a gym, but he kissed her again, then released her. “Let’s go then.”

He hoped taking her would not prove a mistake. Had he not just been lamenting that Ankari had been in danger because of her association with him? The problem was that he
liked
having her as a partner, business and otherwise. She was quick, smart, and had numerous skills that his heavy-handed mercenaries did not always possess. Still, he would have to do some pondering eventually and decide whether he could truly justify keeping her and her team on his ship.

As they headed for the closest lift, Viktor told Commander Garland where he was heading and briefed him on the information Ankari had shared, as well. Though it was his style to deal with his problems himself, if he disappeared, it would affect the ship. Ankari nodded at him with approval. Besides, for all he knew, this ruse to get him arrested might have something to do with the company as a whole. Someone might even want him out of the way in order to more easily get at someone inside of the company. He was not the only one with a bounty on his head.

“You should take Azarov,” Garland said once Viktor had relayed everything. “He’s decent in a fight.”

Viktor grunted. “Tell me about it.”

Ankari tilted her head in curiosity.

“I’ll think about it,” Viktor told Garland, then cut the comm. “I hired him in part because of his firefighting experience,” Viktor explained to Ankari, “but also because he can hold his own in a skirmish. When I first met him, he was in jail, sharing a cell with three of my men. They had all been arrested after a bar fight. I saw the video. He’d taken on my three men fearlessly and had been winning.”

“I’d say I’m shocked that you would be attracted to someone with a predilection for brutality,” Ankari said, “but I’m not.”

“Not when I was first attracted to
you
after watching the vid of you beating up Striker,” he said, stepping into a recently vacated lift car.

“Was that what attracted you to me? I thought it was the expert way I handled your pockets.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “And things
in
your pockets.”

“Maybe I
should
get Azarov up here for backup. You’re distracting me with your naughty words.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She leaned against his shoulder as the doors closed. “I’ll be good.”

“Uh huh.” Viktor waved at the sensor for the eleventh floor.

“The gym is on ten, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but there’s a stairwell at the far end of the floors, and a back corridor that leads to the gym from that direction.” He showed her the map, in case they became separated.

“Ah, yes. And, if we need to flee in an alternate direction, those cargo elevators are an option too.” Ankari pointed at a spot on the map not far from the stairwell. “Quite spacious.”

“You haven’t been ravishing random men in them, have you?”

The doors opened onto a quiet corridor on the eleventh floor.

“No, you’re the only one I want to ravish,” Ankari promised, then stepped out.

Viktor hoped they had an opportunity for ravishing later. In the meantime, he adopted a more serious mien and gripped her shoulder. “Give me a head start, then follow me in about a minute. I’m hoping I won’t run into anyone coming this way, but—” He tapped the bulge in the side of his duster, where his laser pistol hung at his belt. A dagger rested on his opposite hip. He hoped he did not need to use either. Maybe he would be pleasantly surprised, and Sherkov would actually want a fair fight on the judo mat.

He wouldn’t bet on it.

“I understand,” Ankari said. “Be careful.”

Chapter 3

Ankari counted down silently, giving Viktor the minute he had asked for, even though she was tempted to jog after him as soon as he disappeared around a corner at an intersection. She had memorized the map and could find the gym easily enough, but she could not help but worry about him. Just because he knew he was walking into a trap did not mean he would be able to avoid being hurt—or worse.

As soon as the minute was up, she trotted down the corridor after him. This part of the station was mostly empty, being more of an office area than a shopping mecca. She passed a single man with a briefcase heading for the lift. He frowned after her, but did not try to stop her.

When she found the stairwell, she hurried down, taking the steps three at a time. At the bottom, she made herself slow down and peek through the door before rushing out. If she caught up to Viktor, she would not be able to be the surprise ally that he intended her to be. It pleased her that he thought of her as backup. Despite his teasing, he had not called for his firefighting sergeant to come join him. He trusted her to have his back. She might not be rooting for him to go to this meeting, but his trust filled her with warmth, and she did not want to disappoint him.

A couple of men in T-shirts and with towels slung over their shoulders ambled down the corridor, then turned out of sight at an intersection. This was the back way to the gym, but there must be locker rooms around somewhere. If people were about, that was promising. It should mean that hordes of armored men were not poised behind a corner with weapons drawn. That would be slightly conspicuous. Maybe Sherkov had talked some security men into working out at the gym in the hope that he could goad Viktor into breaking a law in front of witnesses. That shouldn’t happen—even if Viktor liked to pound on his punching bag when he was irked, she had not seen him act rashly often. Still, Ankari left the stairwell and hurried toward the facility, so she could be present for whatever confrontation came. Sometimes, men put their violent tendencies on hold in the presence of a woman.