Master of Her Heart (Sons of Amber Book 2) (11 page)

“You have a compassionate heart, Lil.”

Mike would be damned if Leah hadn’t just handed him the biggest piece of intel he’d received thus far. Could it be true the jit virus had turned back on its creators? That would certainly be some kind of poetic justice, though a tragedy to be sure.

Mike worked hard to hide his racing thoughts. Kissing Leah was a good way to disguise his internal upset at the news of such staggering death in the jit’suku galaxy, but it was also distracting. He set her away and tried to smile.

“No time for that now, wench. I have work to do today.” He slapped her curvy ass playfully as he rooted around for his clothes. She’d folded them and placed them on the room’s only chair like a good little slave. Playing the part, he knew, but it felt kind of nice to have a woman care for his things—and care for him, if he read the gesture right. “Gather our stuff, we’re heading out.”

She buzzed around the small room, doing his bidding. They didn’t have a lot of things with them, but it wouldn’t do to leave anything behind. Leah was ready by the time he’d dressed. They ate together quickly and then headed out of the small compartment. Michael wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a moment. Not now. Not ever.

He found the pirate leader in the same common room from the night before, eating breakfast. A few of his men were there as well, but most looked half-awake after a night of debauchery.

Michael sat opposite the captain and tried hard to repress his excitement. This op was nearing its conclusion. All he had to do now was finesse all the players into position. That would start now, with this man.

“I have some other business I need to attend to,” Michael said. “Can you help me with the fifty or not?”

The captain sat back, eyeing him. Just when Michael was sure he’d overplayed his hand, the man dug out a crystal from his pocket and rolled it across the table.

“The information’s on there. Coordinates, instructions for credit transfer, and everything else you’ll need. Be ready tonight at seventeen hundred station time.”

Mike thought fast. That would be cutting it close, but it could be done. He had his troops on alert, waiting for his signal. He nodded to the jit captain.

“I’ll be ready.” Michael stood, noting Leah’s warm presence behind him. “Thanks for your hospitality, Captain.” He reached across the table to shake hands the way jits did—a bone-jarring elbow clasp—and quickly took his leave.

On the way out of the room he caught Ty’s eye and with a silent signal, their plan went into motion. Michael knew Ty would be taking his leave of the pirates shortly, though he’d be monitoring their movements closely while the strike force prepared. As for the troops, Michael would take great pleasure in leading the team himself, though of course he’d be helmeted like all the other troopers, so it was likely the pirates wouldn’t even recognize him.

He’d remember them, though. And he’d be on the lookout for certain particular devils he’d taken note of last night. Some of these men were worse than barbarians. They were downright cruel in the way they treated the women.

Mike knew they were being followed as they ducked into the access tubes that would bring them to the docking area. No doubt the pirates wanted to be certain just where their new contacts were going. Of course, he’d planned ahead. There was a small civilian craft waiting for them, which they used to their advantage. Mik and Leah got on the craft, greeting the specialist they’d assigned to this particular task, a veteran named Suzette. She was a crack pilot and something of an ace. She was also one of Leah’s closest friends and a trusted member of the command staff.

Suzette looked them over as they entered the craft. One dark eyebrow arched and her sparkling eyes danced with humor, but she refrained from commenting on their appearance. She had a change of clothing waiting for them and they took turns in the ship’s small lav. Michael contacted his strike team through the secure comm while Leah changed.

After setting the wheels in motion, Michael went aft to change out of his pirate garb and into battle armor. He’d stripped down in the narrow hall, not waiting for Leah to finish up in the even smaller lav compartment. He’d donned the lower portion of the battle suit, letting the sleeves of the flexible underskin hang around his waist while he fastened his boots and the armor plate that went over his legs. He heard the compartment door slide open and looked up to find Leah standing before him.

The sex kitten was well hidden under her starched battle dress uniform, but there was a knowing light in her gaze as it roved over his bare chest. He walked right up to her and cupped her cheek.

“It’s good to have you back, Colonel. Not that I didn’t enjoy Lilla.” He winked and she laughed.

“It’s good to be back, Commandant. And it’s good to finally know what’s going on in this sector.” Michael nodded and stepped back, turning so she could help him with the sleeves. He could do it himself, but it’d be awkward, and soldiers often helped each other. Leah knew just what to do, setting to work dressing him with her usual efficiency. If he noticed the brush of her fingers over his skin more now than he ever had before, he supposed that was to be expected after the intimacy they’d shared.

Of course, they’d never gone into battle together before. All the time Leah had worked for him, he’d never taken her along on a mission where he knew he’d see fire. That she was here now was both troubling and uplifting. There was no other woman he wanted by his side, through thick or thin, but he couldn’t find the words just yet to tell her. He didn’t know how she’d respond, and the uncertainty chipped away at his normal calm. Plus, there was a lot to get done tonight and in the coming days in this messed up sector of space. They had serious amounts of work to do and he didn’t feel quite brave enough to broach the subject of the future and his uncomfortable feelings just yet.

First they had to clean up Smithson’s mess and put an end to the slavery ring. Leah would play her part, as would he.

“I agree wholeheartedly. And even better,” he turned back around to face her, “we finally have a reason to get rid of Smithson.”

“You took a look at the data crystal then?”

“First thing. That…woman.” He bit back the curse he would rather have used. “Is in this up to her eyeballs. She’s the pirate contact. And the payment account is her very own.”

“The bitch!”

Michael nodded. “You know what to do, Leah. I’m counting on you to get the station under control while I go after the pirates.”

A steely light entered her eyes. “It will be my pleasure. I’ve been wanting to kick Smithson’s ass for quite a while now.”

He leaned in to peck her cheek. “God, I love it when you’re fierce.”

She surprised him, placing both her hands around his neck and drawing him close. She cradled his head in her soft hands and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Be careful, Michael. I—” She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me, Leah. I’ll be careful, but you know I have to do this. I can I.D. the ringleaders and do this part of the job more efficiently than anyone else. Trust me, I won’t take any unnecessary chances. I’m a Dom, not a Risker like Ty.”

His lopsided smile melted her heart. “Thank heaven for that.”

She bit back the cautions she wanted to voice. She knew he was a warrior of the highest caliber. He was one of—if not
the
—best. She shouldn’t worry, but she did. Still, they both had tasks to perform. That he’d leave the station side of things in her hands was a matter of trust that was very flattering.

Sure, she knew she could handle anything Smithson could dish out, but for Michael to trust her with such a task indicated just how much he believed in her abilities. How much he trusted her to get the job done right. She had to trust him just as much. Still, it wouldn’t prevent her from worrying…just a bit.

She reached up to kiss him one last time, then helped him on with the rest of his battle armor. His body would be well protected behind layers of flexible armor. He’d be fighting the pirates while she conducted her own battle on the station.

He pressed a small data crystal into her hand. “Here’s everything you need to arrest Smithson and her entire command staff. I want them all confined and separated until we can investigate and discover which of them were in it with her. I’m also giving you full authority to deal with anything on the station as you see fit. You’ll be acting Commander in this sector until we can get someone else out here.”

“Colonel,” Suzette’s voice piped in over the comm. “Your ride is here.”

Leah clutched the crystal and gave Michael one last hug and kiss. They’d arranged for Suzette to pull away from the station and rendezvous with the troop carrier that held the strike force Michael would be leading. They’d docked with the larger ship and the small shuttle that would take Leah back to the military side of the station was now docking on the other side of the ship. Within a few minutes, Colonel Leah Blackfoot would be back in her domain, on the military side of the station, kicking butt and taking names.

“Give ‘em hell, Leah.” Michael winked at her.

“You too, Michael.”

She left through the small hatch that would take her to the shuttle. She wanted to say more, but there was no time. And truth be told, she wasn’t quite brave enough to tell Michael of her feelings. Not just yet. Maybe not ever.

She boarded the shuttle, drawing her mantle of authority around her like a protective shield. There was work to do. Hard work. She had to capture and confine a general and all her staff, and do it without giving any of them a chance to warn the jits of what was coming. Tricky business, but Leah had a plan, and several of her own people in key positions, ready to execute it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Is your team in place, Tracey?” Leah spoke softly into the battle comm. They were communicating through shielded headsets on a coded frequency that only her group could access. None of the station personnel would know what hit them—if this went off as planned.

“We’re ready when you are, Colonel.” Tracey’s quiet voice came back within moments.

So far, so good.

Leah straightened her spine and pressed the access panel that would open the command and control center’s doors. She also had it rigged—courtesy of one of the women who were standing behind her, a wizard tech named Jane—to lockout all command functions the moment Leah entered the proper code.

She keyed it in. Immediately, all station systems would be locked down, waiting for her special override. It would only come when she had the station secure.

Once again she keyed the headset. “Go code Lima Bravo Foxtrot. Repeat. Lima Bravo Foxtrot. You have a go.”

Just that easy, the plan was activated. Leah punched the door hatch and strode into the room, her team flanking her, their weapons at the ready. General Smithson stood angrily from her command chair.

“What’s the meaning of this, Colonel?”

“By authority of Sector Command, I hereby place you and your staff under arrest pending further investigation.”

Smithson reached for her console, but Leah knew it was already deactivated. Any hope the woman had of erasing evidence or getting word out to her conspirators was long gone.

“You can’t do this!”

Leah advanced, noting the rapid deployment of her squad of armed soldiers around the room.

“Kidnapping and turning a blind eye to the imprisonment and slavery of human women is a serious crime, General. I believe you should seek legal counsel before saying anything further.”

“You bitch!” Smithson rushed her, but Leah was prepared. She hadn’t had to call on her hand-to-hand fighting skills often, but she was no lightweight. She downed Smithson with one quick move, grabbing the woman’s wrist as she tried to punch Leah in the face, and twirling her around into a prone position on the command deck. Leah held Smithson’s arm out at an angle, one knee planted hard in her back, retaining control of the struggling woman. Leah looked up at the general’s staff gathered all around, noting the expressions on each face carefully. Some were plotting, some simply stunned.

“You ladies can do this the hard way and end up like her,” Leah chucked her chin toward the fallen woman, still struggling uselessly in her hold, “or you can go with my people quietly. We’ll be questioning everyone and sorting out just who’s involved in this despicable crime ring. If you’ve got nothing to hide, you’ll be freed. As simple as that.”

One by one, the wide-eyed ones stood, followed more reluctantly by the others. They filed out quietly, each put into restraints and escorted to the door by one of Leah’s team. More of Leah’s specially chosen troopers waited outside to take them to detention. The women of Smithson’s command staff would be separated and questioned until Leah’s people got to the bottom of the matter. Already, she had special investigators on site and more coming from Alantia Station. It had been a busy day, and it was about to get even busier as Leah and her team secured the station and restarted the computers, preserving evidence while getting on with the ordinary business of running the station.

She set to work, doggedly ignoring the impulse to check on how Michael’s combat team was doing. They were on comm silence until their mission was secured and she wasn’t going to be the one to break it, though she was tempted to report on her progress, just to hear Michael’s voice. She had to trust him to stay safe and do his job…as much as he trusted her to do her part.

That thought in mind, she began the arduous work of documenting any possible mischief by Smithson’s crew as she made decisions for every sector of the station. It was hard work, especially as they had to deal with ship crews unhappy with the station lockdown, but Leah wasn’t letting anyone leave while Michael and his men were out there battling the pirates.

*

Michael advanced into the jit-controlled areas of the station with his strikeforce. He wore full armor like the rest of the team, only his size and stature setting him apart from the female soldiers he commanded. He wore no insignia, nor did any of his troops. Coded comms delineated who was who among the helmeted, incognito warriors. Only they needed to know who was in charge, after all. Identifying the leaders to the enemy would only make them targets.