Tor (Women of Earth Book 2) (30 page)

It helped until it dawned on her that finding her was what Riegard wanted. Wynne's plan had been fulfilled, but in the wrong way. She was still the bait, but the trap was set for Tor.

Chapter 30

Tor was watching the third small street skimmer leave the roof. Like the two before it, the skimmer and its occupants; driver, older Godan male, and his two bodyguards; flew off as if leaving the city's central district. Anyone casually watching the takeoff would fail to notice the skimmer's change of course and its return to land on another hotel rooftop only three blocks away.

They would have attracted less notice had they flown directly to their destination. There would be nothing suspicious about a group of wealthy Godan men getting together for an evening of cards and drinking. These men were amateurs at subterfuge.

Tor had flown his ship and its crew through some pretty dangerous skies over the years. They'd outfought raiders, outmaneuvered peacekeepers, outwitted warlords, and in some cases, most notably the Macrin, outrun death by the skin of their asses. He'd faced it all with calm determination and without fear. He relied on caution, careful planning, and trust in his crew.

He'd felt the same when he'd flown the Silver Eagles for the Galactic Confederation. Fear had no place in the cockpit. You trained with your squadron until you could fly the maneuvers in your sleep. You took your ship into battle with the belief that fate had the final say. You would die because it was your time, and not because fear replaced clear thinking.

Battles weren't won by one man on a rampage, yet the minute he received Truca's panicked call, Tor was so overwhelmed with fear for Wynne that he was ready to go to war. Alone. He wanted to kill anyone who stood in his way.

Fortunately, by the time he reached their borrowed suite, practice and experience kicked in and his emotions were under control. Sort of.

Posy was there to greet him with a more detailed report than Truca's "They got Wynne! They dragged her away! The All Knowing help me, I thought they'd come for me, too. Ish sent me back to the room and said to call you."

"She's being held and questioned in a small conference room. She's still in the hotel. Yatos and Riegard are in the room with her, so she's safe for now," Posy insisted.

"A boot licking lecher and a murderer? I'm supposed to take comfort in that?"

"No. Take comfort in the fact that the walls are thin enough that witnesses can hear everything if it gets too loud. Wynne's holding her own. There are two of Riegard's bodyguards outside the door, but peacekeepers are all over. Ish faded back in case someone points her out as the lady's Companion. So far, they haven't made the connection, probably because when Yatos met her she didn't have one."

Tor took the information in, but before he could decide what to do with it, Truca interrupted.

"We can't stay here." She took another bag from Chubo and stacked it on the trolley. Already overloaded and off balance, the pile leaned dangerously to the side. "Ish said to get out. There are peacekeepers hovering around the reception area waiting for orders. Those orders are bound to send them here. Where do we go?"

Tor turned to the trolley and began to unload. "Did you get in touch with Mohawk?"

Posy flicked the small unit attached to his shoulder with his finger. "These com's work fine on the ship, worthless over distance. He was halfway back before he got the call. He should be here shortly. I told him to avoid the main entrance. I don't know how much use he'll be if it comes down to a fight. He sobered up fast enough when I told him what happened, but..." He let his shrug finish the sentence.

"He only has to be sober enough to get this lot back to the ship."

"No," Truca objected. "I want to stay, Tor. I can help."

"That's Captain," Tor corrected. He used the title as a reminder of who was in charge. "It's back in the trunk for you. Chubo and Nix can squeeze into mine."

Finding what he was looking for, he carried the bag to the table. He stripped off the uniform he'd borrowed from the laundry and began to redress in the clothes he'd carried back with him from the roof. In his haste, he hadn't bothered to change. "I'm not leaving you behind," she said stubbornly and added belatedly, "Captain."

"Did I tell you to?"

"No, but..."

"Then shut it and listen. We're going to see this through, Truca. Wynne was right. We're a crew and that's the way we'll stay. It's a big galaxy out there. We'll find our place in it." Tor pulled the weapons bag open and began loading up. He hefted two gray canisters and satisfied, attached them to his belt. "I need you three to ready the ship. Get her moved as close to a bay door as you can. Nix, you plot a course to Sigmund's Tunnel."

The little Huka nodded, but without confidence. "What about the belt?" she asked. Her hands flexed and then knotted together with worry. Nix knew her limitations as a navigator. Plotting a course around or through the meteoroid field that hung between Shudish and the tunnel would be stretching her abilities.

"Straight shot through the middle." It was a dangerous ploy to fly through that large a field of hurtling rocks so large they could crush a ship the size of Sky Hawk, but he'd flown it before. He was hoping whoever followed them hadn't. "I'll be at the helm when we get there," Tor assured Chubo, who was about to object. "Your job is to get us out of the gate."

"Chubo can do that, Captain."

Tor put his hand on the smaller man's shoulder, but his eyes were for Posy. "I'd never ask you to do something you can't."

"There's a difference between can't and won't." The Basker stayed where he was, his back against the door, where he could listen for approaching footsteps or act as the first line of defense should the peacekeepers arrive with a pass key. He bowed his head instead of his body. "I will avoid what I can and do what I must."

"What about Wynne?" Truca asked. "She's coming with us, isn't she?"

She wasn't, but Tor couldn't allow himself to think about it much less discuss it. He had to keep his head clear and emotion free.

"Let's get her out of this mess first," he told her.

Posy stepped away from the door and reached for the lighted plate beside the frame. "Mohawk," he said before he touched the square.

Mohawk had his fist raised, ready to pound, when the door opened. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You didn't even ask who it was."

"I heard you cursing when you left the access tube."

"Stupid woman and her stupid yapping putzies," Mohawk muttered. "Where's Wynne? Why haven't you got her back?"

Tor didn't look up. He finished strapping the holster of the handloader to his thigh. "Ish has eyes on her. She's still in the building. I need you to take these three back to the ship."

"Not fucking happening." The old warrior was already rummaging through the bag. He frowned at his uniform shirt when the weapon he'd slid into a nonexistent pocket fell to the floor. He'd forgotten the shirt wasn't his. "She's my responsibility. Her safety is my duty. I shouldn't have left her in the first place. If you won't get her, I will. And don't give me your I'm-the-Captain shit. I'm a foot soldier, not a pianzee fucking fly boy. I answer to Roark."

Tor grabbed the old warrior's wrist. Mohawk snarled and tried to pull away, but his strength was no match for Tor's.

"That's exactly why I need you on the docks." Tor's voice was low and firm, and weighted with importance. "You can get them safely aboard and handle anything that might come up. You can be trusted, Mohawk. Wynne's rescue might depend on that."

Some of the tension leaked out of the old man's body. He nodded in understanding and then looked up. "Fine. I'll go, but just so we understand each other. If any harm comes to her..."

"It won't, not if it takes my last breath."

Posy's com vibrated. "Go," he said, his voice a mere hum of sound.

"They're on the move," Ish's voice reported from the unit. "Hadrid's Harem, Posy, they have her cuffed and they're walking her down the middle of King's Way. Her head's covered, but it's her. It's that
pugish
, Yatos, and four guards. Riegard's taking a chair. Now's our chance. We could take them easy. Get your asses down here."

Mohawk and Posy looked ready to roll. Truca, Chubo, and Nix looked ready and eager to answer his call to arms.

Tor almost made the call. His blood boiled at this latest humiliating display. To do this to a woman such as Wynne! Every muscle in his body cried out for him to charge down to the street and destroy the bastard. He'd already started for the door, when he stopped, finger in the air. The others waited, bodies tensed, for him to order the charge. He hit his com.

"Stay, Ish. Don't move. They're waiting for it. You need to go back and see what's happening in that room full of peacekeepers."

"But..."

"Do it." He turned to the others. "Get out of here. Now. Take them through the back way, Mohawk. Use the freight tube. Feel free to grumble and swear about it. A man who makes noise has nothing to hide."

No one questioned the order. The trunks were loaded and bags were stacked. Tor and Posy followed them out and left Mohawk muttering by the access tube used for freight.

Ish checked in. "They're gone, Cap'n. It's like they were never here, but the boss man is wringing his hands and watching the tube rise. I'm betting a couple of them are on their way to see you."

"We're sorry to have missed them. Make your way to the Tower. We'll meet you at the foot. And Ish? Be careful."

The Tower was a two hundred-foot tall work of art, a spire woven of metal roping that wove its way to the sky. There was an access tube that would take tourists to the top in limited numbers and there was always a long line. At night, it was lit from within in a way they made it appear to be created from strands of sparkling gems. It was a popular place for people to meet. All the tourists would be looking up, the lovers, looking at each other.

"You know, if things don't work out and we have to lie low, this wouldn't be a bad place to pick up some extra credits. We could start a wine 'em and dine 'em service." It was the polite term used for the male prostitutes who plied their trade in Imperial City. Men weren't the only ones who came here looking for fun. "The way those old ladies are eyeing your ass, you could make a fortune."

"They're probably scandalized by all the weapons." Weapons weren't illegal in Imperial City. Body guards were always armed, but they were usually more discreet.

"Not scandalized yet, but they want to be. They're speculating on the size of the weapon you carry in your pants."

Tor glanced over at his grinning friend. "Knock it off."

"Just trying to lighten your mood." They walked a few more paces before he asked quietly. "It's the real thing for you, isn't it? I knew it was for her, the first time I saw her look at you. She doesn't hide her feelings very well."

"I don't think she can. She's too open and honest. She's made to love and be loved." It felt odd to be talking like this to Posy, but he had to say it out loud to someone, just once.

"Then why the fuck are you leaving her?"

Because he'd waited too long to see that she was right and there might be a way out. Because he'd let his bias against the Godan controlled Confederation and the military color his decisions. Because now that he'd finally seen his error, it was too late. He only hoped it wasn't too late for Wynne, too. He settled for a half truth.

"Because I love her and I can't offer her what she needs and wants."

"Have you even tried?" The blaster Posy held within the folds of his robe rose at the approach from their rear, and then fell back. "That's a good way to get yourself killed."

"You knew it was me, though you weren't paying a whole lot of attention when you walked by." She took her place between the two men. "Where are we going?"

Tor poked his chin at the open leveled building on the far side of the park that surrounded the tower. "We're going to steal a skimmer, a nice one. Riegard and Yatos's men are waiting for us at the Six Stars. They'll have all the entrances covered. I think we should go in on the roof."

~*~

Yatos was an ass, but he wasn't a stupid one. He'd immediately foiled Wynne's plan to shout out to the crowd to tell them who she was and what was happening.

"Your cries won't save you or those women," he'd whispered in her ear right before they left the hotel. "Riegard is prepared to move them in an instant. You won't be moved with them. Don't think that little recitation about who you are will save you. You're just a common thief making unfounded claims who met an unfortunate, but unavoidable, end."

Blinded by the hood tied over her face, she stumbled through the streets. It wasn't far, but she had no idea what building they were in, but her hood was removed as soon as they entered it.

"Stay out of sight until the signal is given," Yatos ordered the guards.

They bowed and moved away, leaving her alone with Yatos.

Were these really the upholders of Confederation law or were they dressed to play the part? Were they aware of the truth or did they believe they were part of an operation to snare Tor and his crew? Wynne mentally shrugged as she concluded that it didn't matter one way or the other. She would find no help there. Those peacekeepers followed their Adjutant's orders and she knew what Yatos was.