Carnevale and Subterfuge (17 page)

So instead, he dropped to the floor, folded his legs Indian style, and closed his eyes. Taking slow, deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, he allowed the chaos of his mind to rush over him and tried to find his center.

Darkness fell around him as the world became dull sounds. Just hearing Ana’s gentle breathing tempered the storm inside of him as he searched for the elusive thread that would help him find his way through to truth. Stillness slipped through his fingertips and toes, up his arms and legs, and settled in his chest.

The urge to move, to run, faded away until there was only him and Ana’s breathing. The steady thud of his heart and his deep breathing soothed away the frenetic energy.

Awareness of his surroundings sharpened as noises he hadn’t noticed before slipped through: the ship’s creak as it settled and the dull whoosh of air from the vents overhead. Instead of making him feel closed in the sounds soothed him. His thoughts stopped chasing each other. They became separate streams of sense. He was able to pick one and examine it, turning it over and over until he gleaned what he could from it before putting it back to choose another one.

He worked forward from the point when he had been contacted by his friend, piecing together what he could. There were still massive gaps, but it was now clear he had been set up, they both had.

Ana had been set up from the start. He could only assume it had been the prossy request that had put her on their radar. As for himself, Diego could see he’d become too complacent. If Riktor could see him now the man would beat him first and then laugh later.
Always be on your guard. Always.

The people had an idea that he would be asked to pose as the ambassador, but why?

Diego smacked himself in the head as an idea formed. If he was discovered, people would think he had killed the man and taken his identity to escape prosecution, especially if the real ambassador ended up dead and he was found with the body.

But why go after Ana? The break-in from earlier didn’t put him at ease at all. It was one of the threads that didn’t seem to go anywhere. Unless it wasn’t meant to. Perhaps Ana was just a distraction.

Diego’s eyes flew open and he was on his feet in a flash. What if there wasn’t just one assassin? What if there were several? He turned his thoughts toward what the ambassador had wanted to accomplish on Veritas 10. He’d spoken of corruption and abuse of power. Could there be more to it than just that? Of course there was more, otherwise people wouldn’t be attacking him and Ana. Riktor had always said to follow the money. With that idea in mind, Diego grabbed his AI wristband and plugged into it.

“You’re naked.” The AI’s voice actually sounded sleepy.

“Not important right now. I need help.”

“What?”

Diego explained the situation and let the AI get to work. A glance toward the bed showed that Ana was still asleep, much to his relief. He unplugged the wristband from his port and headed for the shower. After a quick wash, he checked with the AI.

“Here are the results. So far there are ten cases of corruption that we know of. Five have been prosecuted and jailed, and the other five are awaiting their fate. I don’t think the ambassador was talking about them, so it must be someone who hasn’t gotten caught yet. A bigger fish so to speak.”

Diego’s thoughts rolled over in his mind as he got dressed. There were angles he knew he was missing, things that didn’t make sense.

Another glance at the bed revealed Ana up and awake. She held the sheets to her chest but he could see the tips of her nipples pressing against the cloth clearly. He groaned silently, wishing to pull away the covering and lap the tightened buds before sucking them into his mouth. His cock became semi-hard, pressing against his fly. She pushed some hair away from her face and stared at him. Dark brown eyes were pools of mystery and heat. Her free hand grabbed a handful of sheet as confusion skittered across her face.

“You’re leaving.” Her eyes widened in confusion.

Diego couldn’t leave her alone and uncertain. He strode across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking. Things don’t add up. I need clarity and I can’t get that here, sitting in this room going crazy.” He reached up and caressed her cheek. Slivers of heat raced up his arm when she turned her face toward his palm and kissed it.

“Can I help? Can I come with you? I’ve been pulled into this too. I need answers as well.” Her gaze beseeched him to allow her to help.

For a moment he was torn between keeping her safe and insisting she stay here.

“Please,” Ana said. “Let me help you figure this out.”

The silent demand in her eyes was Diego’s undoing. He knew that Ana deserved to know. He nodded his head. “Fine, but you must promise discretion.”

“Of course.” She gave him a winning smile.

“Good. Shower and get dressed. Quickly please, or I’ll be joining you in that bed.” Diego laughed when she scrambled out from under the covers. “You hurrying makes me think the sex wasn’t good.”

“No. It was fantastic. But the sooner we’re done with this, the sooner we get back into bed.” She turned her head and looked at him from over her shoulder. She gave him a saucy wink that made his body heat and arousal to churn in his groin all over again.

Diego grinned. “I love the way your mind works. Hurry,
cara
, hurry. We may not make it to bed if you don’t get to the shower faster.”

She ran to the bathroom. The door whooshed closed behind her. While she was showering, Diego put in a call to Roberto with his wrist com. His brother appeared at the door, hair sticking up in all directions, clothing wrinkled and a cross look on his face.

“What?” Roberto said.

Diego hid a chuckle at how gruff Roberto’s voice sounded.

“Disturbed you, did I? I need to see the ambassador. Ana’s coming with. She won’t stay behind. Can you get word for him to prepare for our arrival?”

“Yeah. Give me a few minutes…and next time more notice. I was having an excellent dream.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Good,” Roberto said as the door swished shut behind him.

* * *

Pain shot through every muscle and tendon. Morrigan’s limbs were on fire. Even her fingertips and toes hurt. She rolled her shoulders and winced at the ache she found there. So far the mission was a failure.

The pigeon hadn’t led her to the real ambassador, and the imposter was proving to be a stumbling block. He’d had the crew tested for the C-plus blood enzyme, which had put a damper on her plans to walk around the ship freely. She couldn’t do that without being asked if she’d been to the med deck yet. The fewer bodies to be found, the better chances for her success.

Lt. Froggie had also proved an unwise move. Her sensors had short circuited, and her rage blocker had failed. Instead of taking Anarrae to a more private place for questioning, Morrigan had almost killed her. Becoming Pio also proved to be a bust as he didn’t know anything.

Morrigan walked over to the corner of the small storage closet and dragged out a compact machine no bigger than a backpack. She hit a few buttons and watched it light up, coming out of hibernation.

“Is it working properly?”

“Yeah, just needs some time to recharge. Time for you two to go back.”

“But we’re getting close. I can tell.”

Morrigan straightened up to look at her clones. In the dimness of the overhead light she saw her mirror image right down to the scarred half of her face. Dark brown spirals formed a chaotic halo around an oval face with brown, almond-shaped eyes framed by dark lashes, a crooked nose and a full, rosebud mouth. The skintight black bio-suit hugged every curve, showing a lithe body conditioned for fighting. Small red censors on the cloth blinked on and off showing low power.

Movement to her left drew her attention to the other clone. Both the creatures gazed at her, determination in their eyes.

Morrigan shook her head and sighed. “No. You’re low on power, both of you are. We don’t have time for this. The ambassador must be eliminated. It’s our job…our last one.”

They looked rebellious for a second, ready to override her and take control of the mission. Instead, they nodded, shoulders slumping, eyes downcast. Morrigan leaned over and hit a button the machine, watching as her clones faded out of existence.

Once she was alone, Morrigan let her shoulders drop. Tears clouded her vision. Weariness tugged her limbs down. Her legs shook with effort. The past seventy-two hours had been spent running around trying to catch the ambassador. So much energy had been expended. She barely had enough in her to change her appearance one more time, but she had to in order to leave the storage closet.

“So tired,” she said. “So fucking tired. This needs to be over.”

With the last vestiges of her strength, she shifted her appearance one last time. Once out of the storage area, she caught sight of her image in the shiny black surface of the ship map—hazel eyes and wild, dark-chocolate hair shot through with varying shades of brown. The uniform of an officer of the
Hades’ Helmet
fit snuggly around Tigress’s more abundant curves.

Satisfied the mimic had gone smoothly, she headed for the Chief of Security’s quarters. Once inside the small space, she headed straight for the closet. The real Tigress struggled against her bonds. Anger had darkened her eyes to a stormy green. Morrigan dug into her pocket and pulled out a syringe.

“I can’t afford to kill you. So for now, you’ll just have to sleep. Once I’m done, the cuffs will be released, and you’ll be no worse the wear.” She tried to smile but couldn’t. The emotion of compassion had been stamped out of her under the heel of a boot. Morrigan couldn’t feel any emotion other than the sweet numbness of the chemicals pumping through her system. “Good night, Tigress. I do apologize.”

She wasn’t sure why she’d tagged on that last part, but she let it be as she stuck the needle into Tigress’s arm. The Chief of Security struggled until her movements faded into nothing. Only her gentle breathing could be heard, muffled by the gag.

Satisfied that her captive wouldn’t give her anymore trouble, Morrigan headed for the computer console and brought up her mission specs. The official government seal at the top of the page assured her it was a sanctioned mission, an order for the death of the ambassador from Il Doge. The usual cautions about what was permitted and what was forbidden were attached before the signature at the end, making everything official.

Morrigan read the name again on the bottom. Anton N. Cessiro, Minister of Defense. From her research, she knew that Anton was the ambassador’s brother. The reasons for the order weren’t her concern. She only knew that the ambassador had been one of the reasons the Chameleon Cyborg program had ended without explanation or warning.

Morrigan had been in the middle of a mission. Heat flared on her face as she remembered returning to the safe house, face bathed in blood, body in agony due to the torture she’d endured, only to find the neat and tidy cabin empty. No sign of life was evident.

She’d managed to steal a small off-world craft and return to the main base to discover it too was empty. The last communication was the order of the program to be terminated, and all cyborgs decommissioned by the order of the Intergalactic Defense Council. She’d been abandoned and left to die without as much as a warning.

“They’ll pay,” she breathed. “They’ll all pay, starting with the ambassador.”

Chapter Twelve

Ana followed close behind Diego, resisting the urge to reach out and grab his hand. They weren’t in a part of the ship she was familiar with. She knew they were near the landing bay, but this section was off limits to non-engineering crew. Any second now, she expected someone to leap out from one of the many darkened doorways and tell them to turn around. Sweat beaded on her brow and upper lip. A tingling on the back of her neck increased her unease. Heavy footsteps trailing behind them reminded her they weren’t completely alone.

Roberto had insisted on coming with them and acting as security. When she’d pointed out the need to bring in proper guards, Diego had disagreed, explaining that they couldn’t trust security.

That small reminder sent another bolt of nervousness through Ana. Her heartbeat raced. Her palms were damp with sweat. The walls seemed to be closing in on them. She wasn’t normally claustrophobic, but being in an unfamiliar place was bringing out a side of her she’d never known existed. Her face felt hot and itchy. She resisted the urge to scratch. She was pretty sure once they’d gotten free of the passage she’d need an allergy shot of some kind.

“We’re almost there,
tesoro
,” Diego said.

His voice was her only comfort. She latched onto it and let her pride fall away. Ana reached out and grabbed his hand, holding onto it for dear life. He stilled for a second before continuing on. A hand on her shoulder caused her to squeak aloud.

“Sorry, but I need to bypass you and move to the front.” Roberto’s voice seemed louder. She felt him brush past her and watched his darkened form slip in front of Diego. The low voice floated over to her, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“OK.
Bella
, Robbie is going to move ahead of us. It’s not far, but the ambassador hasn’t been responding to Robbie’s communications. He wants to make sure it’s safe for us to continue. We need to stop here for a bit.”

Diego turned around and pulled Ana to him. He enfolded her in his arms and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. The scent of soap and man swirled around her, soothing her nerves.

“How are you doing? You OK? Do you want to return to the room?

She shook her head and buried her face in his shirt. “I need answers, Diego. I have to understand.” She gazed up at him. His pale green eyes seemed to glow in the sickly overhead light.

“I understand, Ana, I do. You shouldn’t have been pulled into this. I’m sorry.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead. Secrets drifted across his face, regret obvious in his eyes.