Bandit jumped into the RTC as soon as I opened the door, giving me time to shove the weapon out of sight so it wouldn’t alarm Breeze. He settled in the back, and I urged her into the front. Breeze had paled, her eyes glazing over—I feared shock might be setting in. It was a lot for her to process: first believing I was trying to kill her then discovering her boss had been hired to do the deed and had come damn close to succeeding. I had a lot of questions to ask since this was now an official C-Force case, but they could wait until she could better handle it.
Until I could better handle it. I’d died a thousand deaths when her RTC exploded. Then I’d heard her yelling my name, and I’d flown up the dune faster than my dog could have, my feet barely touching the sand. Feelings crystalized in an instant. I’d lost my wife. To lose Breeze would have destroyed me. I could not allow anything to happen to her ever again. If we needed to become conjoined twins, connected at the hip twenty-four hours a day, so be it. I wouldn’t rest until Hallam and Martin were brought to justice. And then I’d battle the government.
The RTC parked itself in the hangar, and I helped Breeze out of the vehicle.
“Your sandshoes were in my RTC,” she said.
“I can get another pair. I only have one of you.” I swept her up in my arms.
“I can walk!” she protested.
“There’s no sense both of us sinking in.” I couldn’t wait any longer to hold her. I still couldn’t believe how close she’d come to being killed.
Barking and wagging his tail, Bandit raced in circles around us. He’d been trying to alert me Breeze had left. I should have paid attention. My dog knew stuff.
Breeze palmed the reader, and I shouldered my way in and set her on her feet. She removed the filter mask; I took the helmet off Bandit, and he dove for his water dish.
I let out a sigh of relief. She’s here. She’s safe. I drank in her presence, thanking whatever happenstance had gotten her out of the RTC. “Why did you leave the vehicle?” I asked.
She plucked at her shirt. Grains of sand stuck to wet patches. “I was so upset by what I thought had happened, I felt sick. I didn’t quite get out of the RTC in time. I threw up.” She grimaced.
“I’d say you got out in the nick of time.”
She acknowledged the truth of my statement with a nod. “You’re right. But I feel gross. I need a shower.”
“Go on,” I said. “We’ll talk afterward.”
She eased off her boots. “My shoes are full of sand.”
Mine were, too. “I’ll take care of it—I’ll set the aliens free.” Technically—at least until proven otherwise—the individual grains weren’t living organisms themselves but parts of a whole—cells with an ability to act semi-independently. That was my understanding anyway.
“Would you shake off the shirt, too?” She pulled the garment over her head and handed it to me. Naked, she padded down the hall under my stunned gaze. About to turn the corner, she paused and peered over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to join me in the shower.”
She disappeared, and I leaped into action. I tugged off my boots and then emptied both pairs outside, clapping them together. I gave her shirt a couple of hard shakes then stripped down to my underwear and shook off my clothes.
I tossed everything into the washer, including my underwear, and entered the bathroom. I stepped into the shower.
“What took you so long?” Breeze wound her arms around my neck.
“There was a lot of sand to empty out,” I joked, and we kissed as water rained over us. When we separated, I squeezed shampoo into my hands and washed her, beginning with her hair and then roaming downward, examining as much as washing, checking yet again that she was still in one piece. She still bore bruises from the crash—and she’d had another close call.
“I’m not going to let you out of my sight,” I said.
She moaned an agreement as I slid soapy hands between her legs and over her ass. I knelt to clean her feet. When I stood up, she had lathered up and began to wash me. My cock hardened in her soapy fist.
Ducking my head, I drew her nipple into my mouth and sucked while I stroked her clit. Desire, fueled by need and residual panic, grew hot and intense. Mouths clung, hands stroked. Heat flared. “Now, Tack. Now.” She raked her fingers down my back and hiked a thigh over my hip. I grabbed her ass and lifted her up, pinning her against the shower wall. Her heels locked against my buttocks as I surged into her.
We coupled in a fast-and-frenzied affirmation of life. Senses went haywire. Nerve endings sizzled. Muscles bunched as pressure built. As I reached the point of no return, Breeze climaxed with a cry and a shudder, igniting my own explosive orgasm.
Panting, we slumped against the shower stall, kissing, murmuring, caressing. I nuzzled her neck and shoulder. She rubbed my back. Not until the water ran tepid did we switch it off and step out of the shower.
“I needed that,” she said, donning a towel like a sarong.
I tucked mine around my waist. “I need you.” I couldn’t not express my true feelings.
She bowed her head, and, when she looked up, her blue eyes held regret. “I am so sorry for doubting you. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have, and I suspected someone I should have trusted. I don’t know how I’ll make it up to you.”
Her admission implied she still envisioned a future for us. My heart swelled. “You don’t have to,” I said, hoarsely. “You’re alive.” I paused. “You were manipulated by someone aware of your vulnerabilities and who used them against you. That wasn’t your fault.”
“It feels like it is.”
I knew something about guilt. How it seeped into your marrow and ate at you from the inside out. I wouldn’t let her go through that. “You realized the truth on your own,” I pointed out. I’d expected to face an uphill battle to convince her of the truth, but she’d gotten there by herself.
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Do you feel up to answering some questions? If not, it can wait awhile. I’ve already alerted my commander about what happened, so C-Force is on the case, but it would help if you could fill in some blanks.”
“I’m ready.” She cocked her head. “Wait a minute, C-Force is on it? Why would they help me? I’m a nobody.”
“You are not a nobody. You’re very important to me, and they would take the case on my say-so. Second, your discovery is huge. Its potential for changing colonization policy needs to be protected. If Hallam had succeeded in eliminating you, he would have squelched your discovery. Finally, your boss, hired by the head of the interplanetary policing agency, used C-Force in his strategy to try to kill you. Although his intent was to smoke you out, in messaging you on an unsecured system that could be hacked, he put out into the ether that C-Force engages in murder for hire. We do not. That act alone would have gotten C-Force on the case.”
Breeze rubbed her palms down her sides. “So, what do you want to know?”
“Everything about the day you left the Geo-Tech office. Let’s get dressed and go to the other room.”
* * * *
Tack dashed upstairs to inform his commander of the explosion. When he rejoined me in the living room a few minutes later, he sat beside me on the sofa and pulled me onto his lap. I didn’t object; I enjoyed having his arms around me. I’d almost been blown up, but for the first time since my marriage, I felt…I hesitated to say untouchable because that might goad the fates, but…safe. I didn’t have to go it alone. A force equal to or greater than the might of the Interplanetary Policing Bureau stood on my side.
Hindsight is 20/20. If I had given Tack John’s identity at the start, the drama, maybe the explosion, could have been avoided. But while I never doubted the sincerity of Tack’s offer of protection, he was just one man. Even a cyborg couldn’t beat the IPB.
But C-Force could. I never dreamed the organization would get involved. I had a hunch Martin’s error in blackening C-Force’s reputation had a bit more to do with the organization jumping in than Tack let on, but whatever. I’d accept any assistance I could get.
And if C-Force stood by me when I took on the government…I might get out of this alive. I had enough ego to wish to see my name noted in the annals of science—but not posthumously.
But I would not have Martin to run my report up the chain of command. Geo-Tech would bring in a new director who may or may not be supportive or amenable to risk-taking. Better a spineless boss than one who tries to kill me.
“You’ll need to remain here until Martin and John are taken into custody. We’re going to lie low and let them believe the attack succeeded.” Tack sounded a tad hesitant, like he expected me to disagree. He’d get no argument from me.
“I’m good with that. How long before they’re arrested?”
“A C-Force extraction team will pick Martin up tomorrow. He won’t be formally arrested and charged until we can process the evidence and build a case against him, but he represents enough of an immediate threat that we’ll put him on ice until we can go official.”
“Is that legal?”
“Is that a concern?”
“No.” Not after what he’d tried to do to me. Not considering what the government might do to me for just doing my job. If I played by the rules, but everyone else broke them, I would lose. Losing in this case meant dying.
“Bringing in Hallam will take longer. Snatching him out of his office isn’t an option. His arrest must proceed by the book, and the case must be airtight. Quint is working on it. A forensics team and mobile lab will arrive by tomorrow to collect and process evidence at the explosion site, but I’ll get started on it today. The way the sand shifts, the debris could get buried and/or compromised.”
“Can I help with evidence collection?” I kind of owed it to my ex-husband and former boss to assist.
Tack kissed my nose. “You bet! You can also help by telling me what happened the morning you left Città. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how minor or insignificant you might think it is.”
“Well, first of all, it wasn’t morning when I left. It was the afternoon. Martin walked me out to the RTC. He asked if I wanted to stay and leave the next day. Of course, I didn’t.” It had been a ruse, I realized. He knew how anxious I was to leave.
“When did you program the destination coordinates?” Tack asked, and I recalled him insisting RTCs did not go off course on their own.
“Earlier that morning, when the fleet garage sent it over. I got pinged it had arrived. I finished up what I was doing in the lab, and then I ran down to sign for it.” I’d had to scribble my John Hancock on the electronic pad inside the vehicle to acknowledge receipt and that the RTC was in good operational order.
“I went ahead and keyed in the coordinates. Then I dashed to my lab to gather up my stuff—and…Martin called a staff meeting. They’re mandatory. No exceptions. It lasted over three hours. That’s why I got a late start.”
“So the vehicle sat unattended for three hours?”
“Yes.”
“And Martin was in the meeting the whole time?”
“Yes. No. Wait, he wasn’t,” I recalled. “We were waiting in the conference room for him. I was annoyed. I was anxious to leave, and he arrived half an hour late to his own meeting.” I widened my eyes. “Oh my god…that’s when he reprogrammed the RTC and planted the bomb.”
“That would be my guess.”
“Why? I understand about the bomb. But why change the coordinates? Why not send me on my way and let the RTC explode midway between Città and the nearest way station?”
“Because you’d be found too quickly. But if he sent you into no-man’s-land, not only would you not be discovered right away, the sand might have covered up all the evidence, and you might never have been found. You would have become a missing person.”
Tack’s assessment was conjecture, but the truth of it resonated in my bones. I shuddered, wondering if I’d ever find out why Martin had done it. Money? Or did John have some hold over him? Had the two of them been in cahoots from the time Martin hired me? Or was this a recent development? How long had Martin plotted to kill me?
“So you departed Città in the afternoon. At what point did you realize you’d gotten off course?”
“Hours later. I’d fallen asleep. The sandstorm woke me up. I looked for the nearest way station and discovered I wasn’t anywhere close to where I should have been. Then a big dust devil grabbed the RTC, flipped it upside down, and tore the door open. I bashed my head and passed out. That’s where you come in.”
“Do you usually sleep on long journeys?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t go on many long trips, but I’d say no. In fact, I’d intended to catch up on my reading, but I got sleepy.” She wrinkled her nose. “The coffee should have kept me awake, but it tasted funny, so I only drank half of it.”
Tack narrowed his gaze. “Funny how?”
I shrugged. “Different from usual. I didn’t like it.”
“Where did you get the coffee?”
“At the Geo-Tech cantina. It’s usually pretty good.”
“You poured it yourself?”
“Yeah. And then I forgot it! Left it on the counter. Martin—Martin grabbed it and brought it to me.” More pieces fell into place. “He drugged it, didn’t he?”
“Most likely. We’ll test the residue. You left your mug in the brewery.” Tack’s arms tightened around me. “If the storm hadn’t awakened you, and you hadn’t crashed, the vehicle would have blown up.”
I remembered my crazy idea the storm had targeted me. Instead, the sand had saved my life. Accidentally, coincidentally, but it had. Another reason to bring the truth to light. I owed the alien a huge debt.
“Martin needed you to fall asleep so you wouldn’t see the RTC wasn’t following the course you’d set. My hunch is the bomb’s timer was synced to the vehicle run-time,” Tack said.
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of setting the bomb to go off at a specific time, he probably programmed it to detonate after the vehicle had been in operation for a certain number of hours.”
“What’s the difference?”
“What if the bomb went off and you weren’t in the vehicle? If it was running, you would be riding in it.”
“Martin insisted I stay in the RTC and not get out for any reason.” There were so many dots I’d never connected. But why would I? I had no inkling I should connect the dots! I’d known John was out to get me, but I’d trusted Martin, considered him my friend, my protector, even. Shock at the betrayal morphed into anger. I stiffened. “Let’s go collect evidence. I’m ready to get this guy.” I wiggled off Tack’s lap and stood up. He didn’t leap up as I expected, and, when I glanced at him, he’d furrowed his brow.
“What is it?”
“Martin told you I killed my wife.”
“I know that’s not true.” I hadn’t believed it when Martin first said it, and I didn’t believe it now.
“I need to tell you what happened,” he said.
That sounded a little ominous. “Okay.” I sank back onto the sofa.