Mercenary Page 13

  Her break came when she mentioned to the assistant she was going to the Running Foxxe that evening.

  “Ah… LBD.” The assistant smiled with a wink.

  “What the hell… sorry. What’s… LBD?”

  The assistant kept her mouth from dropping all the way open, but only by sheer force of will. “Little Black Dress, darling.”

  You gotta be kidding, thought Talice. She sighed. “Okay, let’s try it.”

  It was in those moments, as she squeezed herself into what she thought was sleepwear, Talice became keenly aware how much she didn’t know about what men outside the Service liked.

  “So… no underwear?” Talice pirouetted before the mirror dubiously.

  “That’s usually the way, yes, darling.”

  “So… my nipples are supposed to poke out like this?”

  The assistant only smiled.

  Talice shook her head. “Show me what you’ve got in a nice safe pantsuit. Black. I’m not looking for love tonight.” Or anything else.

  The assistant’s face fell a full kilometer.

  * * *

  The Running Foxxe was halfway across Anchor Prime, a forty-minute metrolink ride. The looks Talice got were enough to set her on edge. The pantsuit was comfortable enough, but it flowed a bit too much for her liking. But it was the current style, so Talice flowed.

  She entered, desperately trying to slow herself down a bit. This wasn’t Scarbach’s office. She didn’t have to break down the door. She gave her name to the hostess and was shown to a table near the window. The view was of the oceanside and rising moon.

  I haven’t been in a place like this in… years. She glanced around, noting a Marine officer in Dress Blues with two women in, yes, little black dresses.

  “May I offer you a drink while you wait?” The maître d’ had slid so silently to her side, Talice nearly started.

  “Ah… yes, please, sparkling water with lemon.”

  He bowed and was gone.

  She glanced at her chrono. She was a few minutes early and knew Major Fawkes was punctual, so he might be a bit, yet. She sat quietly, watching out the window.

  “Talice?”

  Fawkes came to the table from her side. She nearly gasped. Instead of his dress uniform, which she had expected, he wore a trim dark blue pinstripe business suit with a cream-colored shirt and a dark blue tie.

  She started to rise, but he motioned for her to stay seated, took his chair and smiled.

  Holy shit, this man is gorgeous!

  “Great to see you looking so well. And, if you don’t mind my saying, beautiful.” Fawkes smiled again.

  Talice smiled and only nodded. Geez, am I gonna be able to keep my knees together tonight?

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Fawkes touched his lapel. “We’ve never seen each other out of uniform, and I didn’t know if you would wear your Blues tonight, so I took a chance. I’m glad to see I was right.”

  Keep it up and you may see me in a lot less! Get a grip, Wyloh! On your feet, Marine!

  Her drink was delivered, and she downed half of it at once. Fawkes ordered a bottle of wine and asked for menus, as Talice fought to keep her hormones in check. Now I understand why we take contraceptive infusions in the Corps. I’ve never had this happen!

  She blotted her cheeks with her napkin, then blew a breath. “Sorry, sir, I just… I’m a bit surprised myself.” She struggled for words.

  Wine came to the table, was opened and sampled, then poured. Fawkes raised his glass. “Welcome home, and I’m glad you’re safe.” They touched rims and drank.

  Talice sipped carefully, then smiled approval. “Full-bodied and deep. I like that.” Yes. Especially deep.

  Fawkes made suggestions once menus were in their hands. Talice asked him to order for her, as she had no idea what might be best.

  “Well, since we’re on the ocean, seafood is their specialty.”

  “Yes, sir, that sounds good.”

  Fawkes ordered, then gave her a warming smile. “You don’t have to call me sir any more, Talice.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean…”

  “Call me Hal. Short for Harlan, which I don’t particularly care for.”

  Talice held her breath. “I don’t know if I can do that, sir. I mean… Hal.” They laughed together.

  Dinner proceeded, with full service for every course. Then a light dessert. They didn’t empty the bottle, and Fawkes asked it to be sealed and set into his “wine collection for later.”

  Talk had been small and light as well; a bit of news from the Base, but otherwise, they stayed clear of business. Talice knew it would come later, likely in a more private setting.

  “Are you scheduled for anything early tomorrow?” Fawkes set away his coffee and motioned for the check. He touched his fingertip to the SLATE as it was set at his side, and nodded thanks to the waiter.

  “I… no, nothing.”

  “I have some things to discuss, and I know a place just down the walkway where they play soft jazz. Interested?”

  “Jazz” was a trigger word from the Red Raiders. Fawkes was sending a message.

  Talice smiled, knowing the real evening was about to begin. “Jazz is my favorite. Lead the way… Hal.”

  He held her wrap for her as she stood, took her hand lightly, and they moved together beyond the entryway into the late evening. The air was crisp, the moon setting in the west, and they walked in silence for about ten minutes. Talice could hardly keep her excitement contained. She just wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from.

  They entered a nondescript door, descended a flight of old stairs, and came into a tiny vestibule. Fawkes spoke quietly to a tall, broad-shouldered man at an interior door. Talice was certain the guy was a Marine, or former one. He opened the door and motioned them inside.

  The room was large, trimmed in dark wood, and dimly lit. A jazz trio played in a corner, and all around were private booths. The center floor was currently occupied by several dancing couples.

  Talice’s jaw tightened. The tables had privacy screens running.

  Fawkes led her to a corner booth, ordered a pot of jasmine tea and another of coffee. Then he activated the privacy screen as the waiter left.

  “Okay, you can relax now.”

  Talice was nearly ready to collapse. “Hold on a minute, please.” She opened her clutch, withdrew a bottle of S-H, and downed it. She put the empty back into her purse, then drank half the glass of water the waiter had left for her. She nodded. “That will help.” She sighed. “Sir, I really appreciate the evening but I’m about to explode.”

  Fawkes nodded. “The cover was necessary.”

  The entry buzzer sounded, and Fawkes dropped the screen. The waiter set their order carefully before them, and a basket of fragrant breads and butter, then bowed and left. Fawkes activated the screen again.

  Talice sipped tea as Fawkes poured his coffee. They drank in silence for a few minutes, letting the air about them calm.

  “Your adventure is making way around the Base.”

  Talice nearly choked on her tea and set the cup down slowly.

  “Only need-to-know. We’ve debriefed several of the survivors, who gave glowing remarks regarding your actions. Well done.”

  Talice dropped her eyes away for a moment, then raised her face and nodded. “Thank you. Permission to pass that along?”

  He nodded and smiled. “Of course. But that’s just part of what I want to discuss with you.” He set his cup aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Two groups of hostage-takers have released their prisoners in the last twenty-four hours. We’re not the only ones hearing about your success.”

  Talice thought for a moment. “We’ve got a reputation after one successful mission? Wow.”

  “For the last year or so, High Command has been working to get away from interfering with civilian issues, including hostages. Now suddenly, your team appears and does what they see as a near-military job, about as cleanly as possible. So there’s good news and bad
news.”

  Talice nodded. “I’ve thought about this, too. All of a sudden, we don’t have any work. That’s not the way we planned it.” She shrugged.

  “I can get you all the off-world work you want. Covert stuff, off the record. Again, things High Command would rather not be part of.” He sat back and poured again, then drank. “You’ve got off-world experience. You have former Marines you trust, who were in your team in the Corps. You’re like nothing the hostage-takers have expected, and nothing like the Service expected either. Interested?”

  “I don’t know what to say. Yes, of course I am, and I’m sure the team would be, too. I’m assuming we get paid more than room and board, right?” She grinned.

  “Pay will be whatever you feel is fair. And I can provide you with some pretty good materiel, as well. No slick-skin suits, but just about everything else. I assume you have a benefactor.”

  Talice nodded. “And he expects a cut if he continues to supply us with a ship.”

  “Okay, we can factor that in, no problem. You’re comfortable with his part? Do you trust him, that’s the question?”

  “About as far as I can throw him. But one of his family was rescued, so he’s in our debt, so to speak.”

  Fawkes thought for a moment. “We’ll check him out, if you’ll trust me with his name.”

  Talice opened her clutch and passed him Scarbach’s card. “He’s a sleaze, but he’s got a heart at least.”

  “Good enough. I’ll put together a dossier of information you can share with the group in the next few days and have it delivered to you.

  “Now…” He motioned to the security curtain. “Would you like to listen to some music and maybe dance a bit? By the way, we’re going to keep this up for a while if you don’t mind. Say every six or seven days?”

  Talice blinked. “As in… dating? Sir, I don’t —”

  “Talice, please, relax. I’m not trying to seduce you, and I’m not playing games. Truth is, this is the first time I’ve been out with a woman in… well, quite a while. But you’re charming and lovely, and I’m happy to see you again.”

  She swallowed hard, then gave as calm a smile as she could. “Okay, music is fine. Then maybe we can give dancing a try, but let’s at least not step on each other’s feet… Hal.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Forward, Ho (Part Two)

  An Offer You Can’t Refuse

  “Opportunities multiply as they are seized.”

  Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”

  Thirty days later…

  The new patches were working; at least Talice hadn’t peeled off any more flesh, and her stamina was a bit better. That may have been because they were still on leave, but her exercises were ramping up with no ill effects.

  She and Fawkes had met twice more at the Running Foxxe, and another private dance club as well. Talice hadn’t danced this much in ten years, but it was enjoyable, and Fawkes was the perfect gentleman. She wondered if it was really a charade, but knew business was first in his mind, and she should keep it in hers. She was okay with it. Their meetings gave her a bit of social contact without worrying about entanglements.

  She thought about a pet; maybe a dog, someone to come home to in the evenings. Yeah, then I’d get killed on a mission, and the poor thing wouldn’t be found until people were wondering where I’d been living, and it starved to death. Oh, well…

  Talice had treated her team twice: once at a fancy restaurant — not the Running Foxxe, as she didn’t want to be recognized there unless in Fawkes’s company — and once at a country tavern serving “authentic” Olde Earth English fare. Most of the team was more interested in beer and darts than food, and the evening passed peacefully, if noisily. With Briggs, Rory, and Dosu taking up more space than three men should reasonably do, there were no challenges other than at the matches. Ollie, of course, was taking them all to task at the dart board.

  Late evening came, and as Talice sat with Mac, Bělinka, Nikolay, and Junior, the subject of Mac’s legs came up.

  “DNA is good, they start growing my new ones in a few days.”

  “Hua!” Talice raised her glass, as did the others, drained it, then ordered another round of Stout.

  “How do they do this?” asked Junior, nearly rubbing shoulders with Talice. She didn’t mind; the kid was okay and had fit nicely into the team with his calm demeanor. It was good to be close with those she trusted.

  “Vat grown, stem cells, working from my own DNA.” Mac sipped her beer. “The real trick is when they graft them on, they have to be really careful not to disturb the privates.”

  “Yours will be from mid-thigh down, right?” Talice glanced at Niky and Bělinka curled together near the fireplace, quietly listening.

  Mac nodded. “And I’m damn glad my hips survived, or I’d be a new woman, if you know what I mean.” Mac chuckled nervously, then drank again.

  “A year to grow, then months to learn how to walk again. But you’ll be back on your feet,” said Junior.

  “Still, no combat, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m your eyes in the sky, so behave yourself. Momma Mac will certainly be watching.”

  “Speaking of which.” Talice looked over her shoulder at the guys, still tossing darts and cursing at each other good-naturedly. “I have the dossier discussed some days ago. We’ll lift for parts unknown within ten days and have our briefing the day we leave.”

  “Off-world.” Junior shook his head. “I guess it’s what we get for being such bad-asses on Theia.”

  “Better pay, by a wide margin,” said Mac, “and fewer eyes asking questions about what we’re doing.”

  “So we’re Marines, but not really? Undercover Marines? Sandworms?” Junior glanced over his glass.

  “Off the books,” replied Talice. “But yeah, you could say that. We have autonomy we couldn’t have in the Corps, but we’re still Marines at heart.”

  “More autonomy is good, but a little scary. No cavalry coming over the hill,” replied Junior.

  “Just means we’ve got to be on our game.” She took them in with her eyes. “If you have people you want to visit before we lift, do it now. We may be gone for a while.”

  “Bird One will be packed with supplies,” said Mac, “and I’ve got fully-stealthed drones, three of them, courtesy of Mr. Scarbach.”

  “Any hints on what the mission is?” Bělinka asked.

  “I haven’t even opened the satchel. I didn’t want to worry about it tonight.”

  “Do we get this treatment every time we have a successful mission?”

  Junior’s hand rested near Talice’s thigh, and she gave him a quick glance. “If you don’t move your hand, they may be calling you ‘The Two-Finger Kid’.”

  Junior slid away a bit and everyone laughed.

  “But yes, if we have a good mission, we celebrate. No medals, no commendations, but lots of beer and food.”

  “Comradeship,” said Niky softly. “Better than a medal that just weighs down your uniform.”

  They smiled around and raised their glasses again.

  * * *

  Talice woke with the shakes. She struggled from the bedcovers, stumbled to the bath and cracked open a bottle of S-H. She nearly dropped it, but managed to down half before her head spun and she was forced to sit. Otherwise, she would have been on her knees or on the floor, take your pick.

  She peeled away the C-12Plus patch; no flesh, just clean skin, then realized she hadn’t changed it in over a day. Dammit, dammit! I’ve got to get my focus back on this, especially when I’m out with the team! I can’t lead if I’m in the infirmary. Or dead…

  She carefully applied a new one to the opposite inner thigh. She found it worked better if she alternated them daily. Of course, she hadn’t been changing them daily, because…

  Shit, is this bug affecting my brain now? Gotta get organized, maybe label these for each day. She nearly laughed. Put them in a notebook or something with a tag. Actually, not a bad idea…

  She wait
ed as the meds began to ease her trembling, then made her way back to the kitchen, poured a cup of juice, and sat. Rain was falling again, the window streaked and lightning flashing in the distance. A moment later, thunder rumbled through the clouds. Slowly, she calmed, then glanced at the heavy satchel laying on the table.

  “Low lights, darken the windows.”

  The room brightened a bit as the scene outside faded. She drew the shade just in case, then brought the satchel closer. One side had only her name, the other, three small squares of multi-colored boxes. Security tabs, finger print, retina, and DNA. Either I pass all those or boom. Am I ready for this? Better wake up first.

  She set her usual morning tea to brew, then headed back to the bath, hit the shower controls and sat again, waiting for the water to warm.

  I need to talk to Babs before this mission starts. I’m not forgetful, but I’m sure forgetting a lot of stuff lately. Is it just not being in the Corps? Lack of daily discipline and structure? Damn, I’ve gotten sloppy. That’s got to change.

  She stood, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The water was bracing hot, the way she liked it. It woke her skin, doused her head, and brought a bit of clarity back. Maybe I should take up swimming, or deep-water diving. Yeah, that’s what I need. Get out on the ocean and find I’ve left my patches at home… She chuckled.

  Moments later, wrapped in a heavy robe and feeling less like the walking dead, she sat with tea, studying the satchel once again. She took a breath and pressed her right forefinger to the first tab. It chimed and turned green.

  Okay, how do I do this eyeball thing? She held the satchel upright and aligned it with her right eye. Nothing happened. She tried her left. A small red dot appeared in the middle of the multi-colored box. She stared at it. The box chimed and turned green.

  DNA next. Do I lick this thing, or what? Blood? Saliva? Precious bodily fluids? She thought for a minute. What would a super-secret covert-ops agent do?