Star Wars: Scoundrels (39 page)

Dozer nodded, staring through the gathering darkness at the entrance to the Lulina Crown’s airspeeder garage floor. “Great,” he muttered.

“You ready for this?”

Dozer clenched his teeth. No, he kriffing well
wasn’t
ready for this. And if Winter had any brains, she wouldn’t be ready, either.

Because that was a Falleen in there. A
Falleen
. More than that, a Falleen who’d already once brought Dozer to the edge of saying things he didn’t want to say.

And he’d done it just by smiling, asking nicely, and filling Dozer’s lungs with biochemical poison.

Dozer had always prided himself on being in control. Always. Even when he was working for someone else, there were still important bits of freedom that he possessed and would never give up.
He
was the one who chose whether to obey questionable or dangerous orders.
He
was the one who decided when and how to close the deal he needed to close.
He
was the one who knew when he needed to stick with it and when he needed to bail.

With the Falleen, he no longer had those freedoms. The Falleen could take all of them away from him.

He looked sideways at Winter. She was gazing straight ahead at the garage entrance, but he knew she could feel his eyes on her.

And there was no fear in her face. Nothing but calmness and determination.

Dozer felt his lip twist. She was barely half his age. Certainly no more than half his size. But even she should be smart enough to be concerned about the odds of going up against a Black Sun official and his bodyguards.

Maybe she
was
nervous. Maybe she just wasn’t showing it.

Or maybe she just didn’t care. Maybe all she cared about was getting the job done.

And Dozer would be damned if he let a half-baked girl show him up.

In fact, come to think of it, the whole bunch of them had been pretty much ignoring him from the day this whole thing started. He’d been scheduled as front man, and then Calrissian had showed up and been handed the job. He’d expected to have to boost airspeeders, but Eanjer had just gone out and rented the things. Aside from the Z-95 and that other job Han had asked him to do, he’d basically done nothing to earn his slice of the pie except pass out bribes that everyone knew Villachor’s people wouldn’t even take.

Well, that was going to change. He, Dozer Creed, was going to make Eanjer’s 163 million look like pocket change. And when he did, the others would treat him with more respect. A
lot
more respect.

“Yeah,” he growled to Winter. “I’m ready.”

And to his mild surprise, he found that he actually meant it.

A hissing curl of flame rolled past directly above them like a flaming snake. Lando ducked reflexively, even though the fire was contained by a repulsor field and a good two meters above his head. Chewbacca, who was even closer to the flame, didn’t even flinch.

But then, Chewbacca was seriously focused right now. Having seen him in that mood before, Lando was just as glad the Wookiee’s focus wasn’t on him.

The fire blew past, and Chewbacca rumbled.

“He’s here,” Lando said.

“Where?” Eanjer asked.

“Over by the security station at the south end of the children’s play pavilion,” Lando told him.

Eanjer grunted. “I’m a little surprised he was willing to meet out in the open like this.”

“I wasn’t offering him any choice,” Lando said grimly. “I doubt he’s very happy about it.”

“We don’t always get what we want,” Eanjer said philosophically. “Is Qazadi with him?”

Chewbacca rumbled again.

“No sign of any Falleen,” Lando reported. “Okay. Ten more steps, and it’ll be time for you and Chewie to break off and go find Bink.”

“Wait a minute,” Eanjer objected, frowning at Lando with his good eye. “I thought I was going with
you
.”

“I don’t know where you got that idea,” Lando said. “You’re going with Chewie.”

“But—”

“And if you give either of us any static about it, he’s going to toss you over his shoulder and carry you out of here like a child throwing a tantrum,” Lando told him. “Clear?”

Eanjer threw a look upward at Chewbacca. “Clear,” he said reluctantly.

“You came here to get Han out,” Lando reminded him. “That’s Chewie’s job, and I know he can use your help.”

Chewbacca warbled his opinion of
that
.

For once, Lando decided it would be best not to translate. “Me, I’m just delivering a package and then getting out,” he said instead.

Which wasn’t quite true, either. Again, Eanjer didn’t need to concern himself with the details.

Chewbacca growled a warning.

“Time to go,” Lando said, underlining his order with a firm push against Eanjer’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

With a curt nod, Eanjer veered off into the crowd, Chewbacca striding along behind him. Lando waited until the Wookiee was just a head bobbing along above the crowd, then pulled out his comlink. “Rachele?”

“Looks like a total of eight bodyguards in the clump,” she reported. “But there are at least four more security types loitering in a ring twenty meters out from the main group. There might be more that I haven’t tagged.”

Lando nodded. He’d expected Villachor to come heavily prepared, and he’d been right. “Qazadi?”

“No sign of him. Villachor may be planning to take you inside for that part of the meeting.”

“I’m sure he is,” Lando said sourly. Going inside the mansion was what had gotten Han locked up, and Lando had no intention of offering Villachor a two-for-one special. Especially given what he was wearing beneath his tear-away outfit. “Did Tavia make it in okay?”

“She’s in, and hanging around the main flame geyser setup,” Rachele said. “Hold it … Yes—she’s seen Chewbacca. Starting to move southeast … okay, I see Bink now, coming out of the drinks pavilion with Sheqoa. Chewie and Tavia are drifting to intercept.”

“Good,” Lando said. He thought briefly about having Rachele give Tavia a quick call to remind her about the newly tweaked timing, then decided against it. She and Chewbacca knew what they were doing, and Bink already knew to wait for their lead. As long as they didn’t push it, the timing ought to be all right. “Okay, I’m going in,” he said. “How’s the north end of the children’s pavilion look?”

“Clear, as far as I can tell,” Rachele said. “But I can’t tag all of Villachor’s people from here. Watch yourself.”

“I will,” Lando said. “Don’t forget, odds are Villachor hasn’t spread my face around too widely, not even to his whole security force.”

“That may be what
your
calculations tell you,” Rachele said darkly. “Me, I’m not so sure.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lando said. “I’ve got those squeaker charges from Kell’s pack. If worse comes to worst, I can start tossing them around and try to get away in the confusion.”

“Just don’t make it
too
confusing,” Rachele reminded him. “The last thing we want right now is a full-blown panic.”

“I know,” Lando said. “I’ll check in again after I make the drop.”

The children’s pavilion was easy to identify, full of colorful play equipment and bursting with excited shouts and laughter. Lando approached the north end cautiously but didn’t see any hard-eyed men hanging around. Through the maze of colorful climbing and play structures he caught occasional glimpses of Villachor and his clump of guards, waiting for Lando at the south end, where Lando had told them to wait.

Villachor wasn’t going to be happy about being stood up this way. But people didn’t always get what they wanted.

As he walked past the pavilion he dropped the case casually inside the northwest corner’s vertical support pillar.

He walked for another minute, weaving in and out of traveling clumps of people, at one point slipping through a double line as they moved back and forth between one of the flame fountains and the drink pavilion. Only then did he pull out his comlink and punch in Villachor’s number.

The other man answered promptly. “Villachor.”

“Kwerve,” Lando identified himself. “The package is waiting for you at the northwest corner of the children’s pavilion.”

There was a brief pause. “I thought we were going to have a face-to-face discussion like civilized gentlemen.”

“I know,” Lando agreed. “My boss decided there wasn’t really anything more we needed to say to each other right now. He also wants to know when we can expect his other employee to be released.”

“After we’ve checked out the device,” Villachor said. “And if it isn’t where you say—or if there happens to an explosion when we open it—I promise you his only release will come from a
very
slow death.”

“There won’t be any explosions,” Lando promised, wincing. Chewie’s plan for getting Han out had better work. “My boss told me to tell you in turn that if any of his people are harmed,
you’ll
be the one who’ll die very slowly.”

“I’m sure he did,” Villachor said with deceptive calmness. “Tell him I’m looking forward to meeting him someday.”

“Someday,” Lando promised, trying to match the other’s tone. “Enjoy the package. We’ll look forward to seeing our friend soon.”

When it happened, it happened all at once.

One minute the hall outside Han’s room was as dead as a Hutt’s list of friends. The next it was suddenly hosting a parade. Keeping as low as he could, he watched as six humans and three Falleen went marching past, one of the Falleen dressed like he was getting an Imperial citation, the other Falleen and the humans armed right up to their collarbones.

Somewhere out there, Lando had apparently delivered the cryodex.

He waited until the procession had passed, and gave them another minute after that just to make sure. Then, easing up out of his slouch, he headed silently to the door. A quick check in both directions showed that the hallway was again deserted. Trying to watch both directions at once, he headed back toward the central section of the mansion.

There wasn’t much he could do yet, he knew. Not until the plan kicked off in earnest. With no weapons, allies, or comlink, all he could do was find a place to go to ground for a while.

Fortunately, having had some time to think about it, he’d come up with the ideal spot.

Only the major rooms on Rachele’s schematics had been labeled, but her analysis of this particular second-floor cluster of small rooms had suggested they were probably a security station. At the moment, with the Marblewood guard contingent stretched thin, it stood to reason that the smaller substations were likely to be deserted.

The main security room part of the cluster, where the equipment and weapons were probably stored, was solidly locked. But the lounge area to the side was open and empty.

Best of all, it was conveniently located right down the hall from the main guards’ quarters and ready room, the room right over the junior ballroom.

The room where, if all went according to plan, the team would be assembling to breach the vault.

There was a good chance, Han knew, that no one would disturb him until the unexpected entertainment Kell and Zerba had arranged started up outside. But just in case someone did …

The lounge turned out to be stocked with plenty of snack foods and bottles of water, fruit juices, and caf drinks. Finding a tray, Han took it to the sideboard and loaded half the drink bottles and half the bowl of fruit onto it. Then, positioning himself with his back to the door, he slid the hanger he’d taken from his closet holding cell into his belt where it would be handy.

A roving guard would probably be instantly suspicious of a stranger wandering the mansion’s hallways. He shouldn’t be nearly so suspicious of a simple worker who had come to restock the snack selection.

With luck he’d remain unsuspicious long enough for Han to get in the first shot.

Eyeing the snacks, wondering if it would look suspicious if a guard caught one of the food-service workers eating on the job, Han settled in to wait.

Dayja was still circling the grounds, looking in vain for the rest of Eanjer’s team, when he finally spotted one of them.