Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (45 page)

She shook her head. “No. Just trying to get a feel for who’s here and who’s not.”

“Mostly not,” Helms said. “Actually, I think most of engineering is still aboard. Knowles left this morning but his people are still aboard.”

Natalya nodded. “Figured most people would be off the ship.”

The lock-call rang.

“Now who?” Helms asked, peering into the pickup.

Natalya looked over his shoulder but only saw the top of a cap with the station logo on it. A cargo tug and trailers waited at the foot of the ramp.

“We’re not expecting another shipment are we, Ms. Regyri?” Helms asked.

“Not that I know of, but we should probably see what they want. Maybe they found our lost shipment.”

Helms keyed the lock open and crossed the brow to see. Natalya started to follow him but nearly bumped into him as he backed up, his hands raised, and the barrel of a vicious-looking needler stuck in his nose.

“Ah, good. Ms. Troublemaker. He left you in charge?” Pritchard stood just inside the lock, his weapon pressed into Helms’s nose and his eyes fixed on Natalya. “Would you like to try your ninja skills on me? I’m sure Helms here wouldn’t mind getting a brain full of needles.” He glanced at Helms out of the corner of his eye. “Would you, Helms?”

Natalya lifted her hands, palm out and backed away from the lock. “We thought you’d scarpered with the loot,” she said.

“We?”

“Captain Trask and I.”

“In a matter of speaking, I did.” He nodded at the cargo train behind him. “I just brought it back again.”

“So what’s your plan?” Natalya asked.

“Well, since the captain so conveniently left the ship, it would be a good time for me to load up and head out.” He smiled at Natalya. “You and Ms. Usoko won’t give me any trouble about that, will you?” He pressed the needler into Helms’s face.

“You know we can’t leave the system, right?”

“Yes. Although, I understand you got the parts you needed this afternoon so you might be able to fix it before we hit the Burleson limit.” He nodded at the cargo tug outside. “We just need to get those parts loaded up and we’ll be on our way.”

“The captain will be back before we could load that all up, right?”

“Just you? Certainly. Luckily, I’m not relying on your muscles.” He nodded at the watchstander’s desk. “If you’d be so good as to have a seat back there. Hands on the desk?”

Natalya took the watchstander’s seat as Pritchard backed Helms against the bulkhead. “I’ve seen you in action, Ms. Regyri. Very exciting. I had no idea people could move that fast. Please don’t move like that here. No matter how fast you are, you can’t beat my trigger finger. That’s a good girl.”

“So how are you going to get that stuff aboard?” Natalya asked.

Pritchard whistled. “Wolk? Town? Come along, gentlemen. Time to earn your keep.”

Wolk and Town strolled out of the passageway and smirked at Natalya.

“If you’d be so good as to fetch that cargo from the dock, gentlemen? We can end this farce and get underway,” Pritchard said.

The two started dragging the parts in and stacking them against the bulkhead. Some of the packages were so large, it took both men to carry them. The loading took almost no time; Natalya had to give them credit. Not having to verify the shipment against a manifest sped up the process greatly.

Natalya glanced at Helms. Sweat coated his face and his eyes were screwed shut.

“How do you expect to get away with this, Mr. Pritchard?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. That would be telling.”

“We can’t jump. Do you think you can just dodge around outrunning TIC interceptors until—what? I fix the drives and we scamper off into the Deep Dark?”

“Seriously, Ms. Regyri. Have you been reading adventure novels?” He tsked. “I’ve been working on this for … well … a very long time. At first I thought your arrival was a disaster. Then I realized you were the perfect patsy. And no, I’m not going to share the plan with you.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Captain Trask will have something to say about this.”

Pritchard laughed. “Well, mostly he’ll say ‘where the hell’s my ship?’ because we won’t be here when he gets back.”

“Last ones, boss,” Wolk said, adding a package to the stack.

Town joined him and tossed the last package on top before keying the lock closed. “Ready, boss.”

“We can’t leave without filing a flight plan. We need a tug to get out of here,” Natalya said.

“Oh, stuff and nonsense,” Pritchard said. “You think I’m going to hang around here waiting for permission?” He laughed. “Mr. Wolk, would you get up to the helm? We’ll need a little assistance to get moving quickly.”

Wolk disappeared up the passageway. Town lounged against the pile of packaging.

“How is this even going to work? You can’t just blast out of a CJPCT dock.”

“Don’t be foolish, my girl. Of course we can.” He spoke over his shoulder without taking his eyes off Natalya. “Get ready on the emergency release, if you would, Mike. We need to be ready to move when Aaron has the helm.”

Town pulled the cover off the emergency release lever and tossed it to the deck with a clatter. “Ready, boss.”

“You see, Ms. Regyri. You’ve been around High Liner docks long enough to know that, occasionally, vessels need to leave in a hurry. We can’t be waiting around tied to an orbital that’s ruptured and bleeding atmosphere. Perhaps on fire. Now can we?”

His words sent a chill into the pit of Natalya’s stomach. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wrong word. I think you’re looking for ‘didn’t’ but yes, I did. We’ve plenty of time yet, but by the time Mr. Wolk has secured the bridge, we’ll be able to slip away in the confusion with few people being the wiser, I think.”

They waited for several ticks. Helms opened his eyes and cast a sidelong glance at Natalya.

Natalya shrugged. “Seems like it’s taking him a long time to get to the bridge,” she said. “Suppose Zoya caught him?”

Pritchard shrugged. “I’m sure he can dispose of one jumped-up green third mate.”

“What about Charlie? Blanchard is a big guy. I suspect he’s won his share of fights.”

Pritchard dug the needler into Helms’s face a little deeper. “Nice try. Charlie Blanchard won’t be bothering us any time soon. By now he’s probably halfway to a re-entry burn.” He shrugged. “Too bad he’s not in a shuttle.”

They waited some more. Town started to fidget. “Want me to go check on him, Boss? Maybe he ran into trouble.”

“Patience, Mr. Town. Time has a funny way of slowing down. It hasn’t been as long as we think.”

After another two solid ticks, Pritchard nodded. “Go. Find him.”

Town ran down the passageway into the ship.

“You know, Captain Trask is going to be back soon,” Natalya said.

Pritchard’s gaze flicked to the chronometer on the bulkhead above the desk. “He’s probably still trying to locate Labreque.” He shrugged. “Won’t matter. He can’t open the lock from that side.”

Natalya tilted her head to the side. “No?”

Pritchard smirked. “You thought you were so clever to lock me out of the system. Silly girl.”

She sighed. “I knew we should have looked for a backdoor.”

“Yes, but even if you had found it, the system security on this bucket is dreadful. I’d have just co-opted Lyons’s login and kept going.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Natalya said after another tick had passed.

“Well, and my pointy friend here, for the moment.” He twisted his needler against Helms’s face. “Have a little faith.”

“How did you jigger the emitter bus coupling?” she asked.

“Easy. After we jumped into Albert, I ran a jumper across the terminals of the coupler. Next time we sent juice through it, the jumper fried but shunted enough of the power to the coupler itself to cook it.”

“Ballsy. What made you think that would work?”

“Trade secret. Worked perfectly though, didn’t it?”

“Until I pulled the coupling out and cross-checked the part number.”

“Yes.” Pritchard sighed. “You’ve been a bit tedious but very easy to lead into ordering the parts. I thought I was going to have to do that myself. When Kondur sent you and Ms. Usoko, I admit I wasn’t sure how that would all work out.” He smiled. “Turned out, it worked beautifully.”

Natalya’s tablet bipped and she started to reach for it.

“Uh-uh,” Pritchard said. “Hands on the desk.”

She flattened her hands on the desk and shifted her weight on the stool, gathering her legs under her.

“Easy, Ms. Regyri,” Pritchard said. “Rash actions could be fatal for Mr. Helms.”

She heard some scuffling in the passageway into the ship.

Pritchard heard it, too, but he only glanced that way before smiling at Natalya. “Won’t be long now.”

“Natalya?” Zoya’s voice sounded loud, echoing down the passageway, as her footsteps came closer.

Pritchard looked over his shoulder, swinging his gun hand toward the sound.

Natalya dove for Helms, shoving him to the deck before Pritchard could turn back. The sprangity-sprang of high-speed needles crunching against the bulkhead followed only a heartbeat later. Natalya kicked Pritchard’s left knee backward, felling him like a tree. A second kick caught him in the side of the head, leaving him dazed.

The lock beeped and then started to lever open as black-suited figures swarmed through the opening.

Natalya was never so glad to see TIC agents in her life.

One agent rushed Pritchard and stuck an ugly short-barreled weapon against the side of his head. “Please don’t move. This would make a hell of a mess.”

Pritchard said nothing beyond a high-pitched keening as he tried to cradle his broken knee.

Shouts of “clear” echoed around the lock and one more officer strode up the ramp and into the ship. He stripped off his balaclava and grinned at Natalya. “Nice work, Ms. Regyri.”

It felt like the deck shifted under her as she stared up into the grinning face of the man she knew as Charlie Blanchard.

“Town and Wolk were in on it. They’re somewhere aboard.”

“We have them, Nats,” Zoya said, looking down over the desk.

Blanchard looked at the pile of goods in the corner of the brow. “And we have our parts back. Excellent.” He leaned over to Pritchard. “Just so you know, Vagrant’s ship has already left the system and the little presents you left down on the oh-six deck aren’t going to surprise anybody.”

Pritchard’s face, already a pale, waxy mask filmed in sweat, turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You hold onto that story, Pritchard. I’m sure the magistrate will love to hear it.” Blanchard looked at Helms and Natalya, still tangled on the deck. “Sorry. Are you two all right?”

Helms nodded. “Banged my shoulder on the way down, but better than a face full of needles.”

“Nats? You’ve got blood on your neck,” Zoya said.

Natalya reached back and found only one stinging spot on the back of her neck. “I got creased, I think.” She reached up and brought back bloody fingers. “Yeah.”

“Morrison, Cross. Get Pritchard out of here. Velotta, go with Usoko and retrieve Town and Wolk. Waters, check Regyri’s neck.” He held a hand down to Helms. “Mr. Helms? Can you untangle enough to get up?”

Two of the black-clad agents hustled Pritchard off the ship. One agent—Waters—cleaned Natalya’s wound and slapped a field dressing on it. Helms stood against the bulkhead, rubbing his cheek where Pritchard had ground the barrel of his needler into it. A couple of ticks later, Velotta brought Town and Wolk down in handcuffs and took them off the ship. Zoya and Josh Lyons peeked around the corner.

“What the hell is going on here?” Captain Trask bulled up the ramp from the dock, a black-suited agent attached to his bicep.

“Sorry, sir, he got by me,” the agent said.

“Let him go, Wallace. It’s his ship.”

“Charlie?” Trask blinked several times. “My gods, Charlie? We thought you were dead.”

“Not yet, Skipper. Sorry, I couldn’t get in touch with you. I was a bit tied up.”

Trask looked at Natalya, still sitting on the deck. “You all right, Ms. Regyri?”

“Caught a ricochet. Stings a bit, but yeah. I think Pritchard is the only one injured.”

“Pritchard? Where is he?”

“Skipper? We probably should have this conversation in the cabin?” Blanchard said. He gave a nod to the multitude of wide-eyed crew who had joined Zoya and Lyons at the end of the passage.

Trask pulled himself together and nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” He started for the passageway and most of the lookers vanished back into the ship, the buzz of conversation already building as they went.

“Waters, Cross. Get Orbital to send up a team to collect these parts and get them into evidence. Get a receipt to the chandlery so they don’t charge the ship. Secure the dock. I’ll be a few ticks with Captain Trask. Make sure Pritchard gets medical treatment for his knee.”

“Yes, sirs” popped around the deck and agents streamed off the ship.

“Are you all right to finish your watch, Mr. Helms?” Blanchard asked.

Helms nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” He rubbed his cheek again. “Yeah.”

Blanchard put a hand down for Natalya and she grabbed it. He pulled her to her feet and held onto her hand for a moment. “You’re all right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just a little shaky.”

“After-action nerves,” Blanchard said with a grin.

She laughed. “Yeah. Right.”

Chapter 52
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 2