Bianca D'Arc (10 page)

All the normal rules were broken with Lila
and Chip found he didn’t mind a bit. It would take some getting
used to, but he actually looked forward to learning how to be part
of a couple—for as long as she’d let him. Chip put his arm around
her shoulders and just enjoyed the sensation of being close to her
for a few minutes. It was a sensation of peace and fulfillment he’d
rarely experienced in his life. Lila Senna was special in so many
ways.

Just then, the station rocked and the pod
they were in bounced off the side of the tube, taking them on a
bumpy ride before it settled again. Chip’s arm tightened
reflexively around Lila while her luggage bounced around inside the
pod.

“What was that?”

Chip already had his implant querying station
computers.

“Some kind of explosion in the mech section,”
he reported as the data returned.

“How serious?” Lila held tight to him as the
pod continued to sway a bit in the aftermath, but it stayed on its
course. They were nearing their station, thank goodness. They’d be
out of the vulnerable transport system soon.

“Not very. Enough to knock the station around
a bit, but the containment is holding. Teams are already rectifying
the problem.” He kept part of his attention on the pod and part on
what he was learning from his cybernetic implant.

“Sabotage?” She didn’t have to clarify what
she meant. They were both suspicious of Bjornson and his crew and
had been expecting something like this from them. Most of them
worked in the mech section of the station.

“Hard to say just yet.”

Their pod arrived at the station closest to
the bar and they disembarked quickly. Chip was tempted to
double-time it down the hall, but he didn’t want to draw that much
attention. They both walked quickly and within a few moments they’d
made it to their destination. Chip had never been happier to see
the dim interior of
The Rabbit Hole
.

He dropped Lila’s bags behind the bar without
comment, though he could feel the curious eyes and raised eyebrows
as if they were fists beating on his back. He should’ve known. They
wouldn’t have to say a word. The nosey barflies would infer the
change in their relationship, and Lila’s new place of residence,
all on their own.

Good. He felt a bit of caveman pride, knowing
the other men in the place knew she was his. Under his protection.
In his bed. In his life.

Damn. Chip had never felt so possessive of a
woman. It was a good feeling. A scary feeling, but a good one. He’d
learn to live with it—for as long as she allowed him the
privilege.

He touched her shoulder as he passed her
behind the bar. That little touch spoke volumes to the men
watching. The guys at the bar were all vets. A few were intel
operatives. All now knew that Lila was under his protection. A few
discrete nods and one teasing toast was all it took to know that
these men, these former soldiers, could be trusted to look out for
her even more than they had already. Now she was one of them. Part
of the family, so to speak.

Chip had claimed her and now she was his
responsibility. His brothers in arms would help her as they would
help him. The brotherhood of military vets stuck together.

“Thanks for manning the helm,” Chip thanked
the man he’d asked to watch over the bar while he and Lila had run
their errand.

Julian was a stand-up guy. A former pilot
who’d gone through genetic Enhancement a few years after Chip. He
was younger than Chip, but of the same breed of special operators
turned covert intel agents. They’d worked together before. Julian
had lots of connections on
Madhatter Station
and was one of
Chip’s main contacts in this new position.

“Glad to help. Anything else I can do, you
just ask,” Julian replied in his deceptively lazy drawl. He was
between assignments and Chip was glad of his presence. He could
definitely be counted on in a pinch and he had many versatile
skills.

“I may take you up on that,” Chip gave him a
subtle hand signal to stay alert. Action might be imminent. “What’s
the scuttlebutt on the turbulence?” Chip asked quietly so that only
those at the bar might be able to hear, but not the civs sitting
farther out in the room.

“A few of the techs said it was a blown valve
that vented to space. The thrust was hard enough to shift the
station a bit, but easy enough to fix.” Julian’s words seemed
offhand, but Chip felt the seriousness behind them.

“That kind of thing shouldn’t happen,
though,” Chip replied, noting who was sitting at the bar and
exactly which mech workers sat at tables in the rest of the room.
There weren’t many and none were part of Bjornson’s clique.

“A lot of stuff that shouldn’t happen has
been happening lately,” Julian commented. Chip didn’t take his
words lightly.

“Really?” A wealth of information passed in
that single word. “You know, I could use some extra help around the
bar if you’re looking for work.” As codes went, it was pretty
straight forward, but it would do the trick. Chip needed help he
could trust if everything suddenly went to shit on the station.

“I’m available most of the time,” Julian
answered calmly. “And if I’m busy, I know Thad and Freight Train
are looking for work.” Julian nodded toward two other Enhanced
operatives who were sitting close enough to hear their names
mentioned. Both men nodded when Chip gave them a subtle status
check signal. They were good to go if Chip needed them.

Two more men saw the signal and gave positive
replies from farther down the bar, which was more than Chip had
hoped for. All five vets were on standby, awaiting assignments.
They were free to assist Chip, should the need arise.
Excellent.

Chip had a feeling the need was going to
arise very shortly.

He sent another short series of nearly
imperceptible hand signals. They were all going to have a little
powwow. The men signaled back that they were free to stay for an
hour or two after the bar closed that night. Now he just needed a
cover story. So many men sticking around after hours would be noted
if anyone cared to watch the bar. Chip was taking no chances.

“You still play poker, Julian?” Chip asked,
casually wiping a glass before he put it away behind the bar.

“I play,” Freight Train jumped into the
conversation from a few bar stools away. “You got a game going,
boss?” Freight Train was one of those guys who figured since he had
a nickname, everyone else needed one too.

Chip was cool with it. Freight Train’s easy
going attitude was a great cover for one of the deadliest
operatives in existence. He’d earned his nickname. If anyone even
tried to stand in his way, they got run over pretty quick. He was a
good man to have at your back in a fight.

“Not yet, but I’ve been thinking about it
ever since I heard Lila deals cards.”

At the sound of her name, Lila floated down
the bar toward him with a seductive smile.

“Somebody mention my name?” The intimate way
her eyes flashed at him was also a clear message to those gathered
that something had changed between them.

Oh, she was good. She didn’t even have to say
a word and anyone who cared to look, knew they were sleeping
together. The caveman in Chip wanted to beat his chest with a roar
of triumph. As it was, he settled for placing one hand on her hip
in a gentle, very obvious, caress.

“You know how to deal poker, right?” He
asked, already knowing the answer.

“Ask me something difficult. Of course I can
deal poker. And just about any other card game you want to play.”
She sent him a mischievous smile. “Why? You fellas want to
play?”

“I can’t play now,” Chip clarified. “Not
while the bar is open. What about a friendly game after hours?” He
didn’t have to ask her to stay after, she’d pretty well just
telegraphed that she would be here in the bar, with Chip,
regardless.

“That sounds like fun. I can organize some
snacks and we can make a night of it. How many do you expect?”

The guys Chip had signaled agreed to play,
one by one. By the time the bar closed that night, it was all
arranged. The five original operatives had gotten the word out to a
few more trustworthy retirees who had expressed concern over the
recent happenings in the mech section. By the time the bar shut
down, there was a group of about a dozen vets who’d come for the
so-called
poker game
.

They all knew they were really there for a
meeting of the minds. They were going to share intel and hopefully
formulate a plan of action. Chip was prepared. He’d been processing
what he knew all day and had computed the probabilities. He knew
what they needed to do in various scenarios and the odds of success
got better with each additional team member.

Chip had accessed all the personnel files of
each of the men as they were added to the group. He knew their
backgrounds and specialties, even though he’d never worked with, or
even met, a few of them. But they came highly recommended by the
others, and that—plus evidence of their characters that could be
gleaned from their files—was good enough for Chip. They needed all
the help they could get should the worst happen.

A couple of hours later, the meeting was in
full swing. Each man had given a report about what they’d seen and
heard, and what they surmised. Chip’s implanted cybernetics were
running through all the information, drawing parallels and
conclusions based on all the different pieces of the puzzle that
were finally coming together.

He’d sent the cleaning bots out early, even
before the bar had closed, to discover and disable any listening
devices that patrons might have left behind. Sure enough, there
were at least two found right off the bat. Chip had set the bots
for a more thorough search and destroy cycle as soon as the bar
closed while he and the men played a round or two of poker at one
of the big tables in the center of the seating area. Once the place
was clear, he set a perimeter alarm—with active security screen
that would make it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop from
outside—and began the meeting.

“So what’s their end game?” Julian asked
after they’d discussed the various reports for a few minutes in an
open forum.

“Beats me,” Freight Train answered aloud
while many others nodded agreement. “You got any ideas, boss?”

All eyes turned to Chip. Whether he liked it
or not, he’d been elected leader of this little group. They were
all retired and although their former ranks carried a lot of
weight, they all either knew or were beginning to realize that Chip
was the elder statesman of the group. Not in age, necessarily. One
or two of the guys were older than him, but in experience, Chip had
most of them beat.

Hence, they looked to him for leadership. It
was a role he wasn’t unfamiliar with, though it had been some time
since he’d taken command of a group of soldiers openly. Not that
this covert group was out in the open.

A momentary pride filled him when he realized
they wanted him to lead. He’d missed command, though he’d enjoyed
running his stable of covert operatives for the past several years.
Still, his injury had ended his combat career on a sour note. He’d
never had the send off other officers enjoyed when they retired.
He’d simply faded away, into years of hospital stays and surgeries,
retraining and reeducation. That wasn’t the way he’d always
intended to go out.

Maybe this was his chance at redemption.
Maybe he could get a taste of combat once again—if it came to
that—and
retire
from this small group of vets the way he’d
wanted to retire from his first combat assignment. Well, to be more
accurate, Chip had always figured he’d either retire with a party
or go out in a body bag. The latter was more common in his line of
work, but he’d always figured he wouldn’t mind dying for his cause
in battle.

Being run over by a vehicle carrier was
ignominious, to say the least. That wasn’t the way for a career
soldier, an Enhanced Special Operator, to take his leave. Chip was
glad to be alive, but that humiliating exit from combat service had
always bothered him.

Chip put aside such selfish thoughts and set
his mind to the matter at hand. He thought he knew with ninety
percent certainty, what the saboteurs were about now. Until this
meeting of the minds, he had only a fractured picture of the
action. A lot of these guys were living and working in other parts
of the station where things had happened or been witnessed that
Chip hadn’t known about until now. Not everything was put in
station records or recorded. Human reconnaissance was still a vital
asset.

“I believe they want to take over the
station.” Hard looks from all around met Chip’s statement.

“I thought it was just sabotage,” Lila spoke
for the first time. “I mean,” she seemed to backpedal when all eyes
turned to her, “I thought they were trying to blow up the station
or something.”

“So did I, but to what purpose?” Chip
softened his words, speaking to the woman who had changed so much
about his life in so short a time. “That’s what I couldn’t get a
handle on until just now. Some of the things some of you just
reported seeing in the outer rings of the station lead me to
believe that destruction of the station is not their ultimate
goal.”

“Hostile takeover? You think they’re working
for the jits?” Julian asked, his face darkening with concern.

“We’re out near the Rim, but I can’t be sure
if they’re working for the jit’suku or merely their own ends. A
station on the Rim would be a great staging area for jit’suku or
pirates alike. Either way, they’ve managed to put people in key
positions within the mech section to be able to force station
management into doing whatever they want. They’ve been
demonstrating their ability to make small things go wrong for a
while now. The valve explosion earlier today was a more overt
action. I would predict an escalation in events until they finally
step forward to claim responsibility and try to gain C&C access
to the station itself.”