Consortium of Planets: Alien Test (19 page)

BOOK: Consortium of Planets: Alien Test
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Svetlana glanced in the mirror to make sure that her new disguise still looked appropriate. Long, luscious red hair fell across her tan shoulders and the bright green contact lenses forced attention to her eyes.
Perfect.
Her white cover-up hung open down the middle and put her red bikini on display.
Irresistible
. Hidden under the cover-up, the rope dart hung on her back, ready when she needed it. Someone was coming.

“Hi, I’m Joe. I manage the arena.”

“Well, ‘hi’ yourself, Joe,” Svetlana purred sweetly with an Irish brogue and a bright smile. “I’m Katy Mclure. It’s really a pleasure to meet you.”

Joe blinked as the sunlight literally flashed off Svetlana’s white teeth, but pressed on with his duties. “I’m sorry, but you can’t dock here. Someone has already rented this space.”

Svetlana feigned worry and pleaded, “Joe, I need your help, but only for a few hours. I just need to get to the bank and get some money to pay for a space. You see, my purse fell overboard.” She stopped briefly to adjust her cover-up and watched Joe’s eyes take in her body. Pretending not to notice, she continued. “Just two hours at the most is all I need, maybe less. I promise I’ll be back to pay for a vacant space. Once I’m in a new location, maybe you can show me a place to eat? I’m starting to get hungry.” She paused and waited for Joe to open his mouth. She jumped in before he could say something. “Oh, please, Joe!”

Joe watched Svetlana’s firm body move with urgency as the cover-up swung back and forth with each of her frantic arm movements. He fell into her emerald green eyes and began to get very hungry, too. “Two hours?” he sighed tentatively, not wanting to wait that long.

Svetlana heard his uncertainty and added anxious excitement to her voice. “Two hours, tops. Maybe less!”

Something told Joe he was making a mistake. He was already on thin ice with his boss, but his boss seemed far away at the moment, and Katy was so close. “You know what, Katy? There’s a great place to eat two blocks over.”

Svetlana smiled again.
Sometimes force isn’t necessary. 
“Perfect, Joe, and I’ll buy. Trust me. I’ll be right back.”

Joe laughed.

“What’s so funny, Joe?”

“They say when someone says ‘trust me,’ that’s the last thing you should do, but this is real life. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Svetlana playfully wrinkled her nose and echoed his words. “Exactly, what’s the worst that could happen?” Then she added seductively, “I think I know what will happen.” She gave him a peck on the check. As she walked away, she spoke over her shoulder. “You’re about to have the time of your life.”
Yeah, the last time of your life.

Joe watched Svetlana’s hips swing as she moved away effortlessly down the pier. He looked up at the seagulls and whistled in anticipation.
How did I get so lucky?
He looked back at the pier and Svetlana was gone.
How did she disappear so fast?

The last thing Joe saw was a blinding flash of light. The last thing he felt was deadly heat. Svetlana had rigged all the ordinance on her sub to explode on command and Joe was at ground zero. The entire arena was obliterated in a tremendous ball of fire. The only remaining evidence that wooden docks ever existed were the jagged tops of a few charred pilings that barely cleared the water.

From a block away, Svetlana listened to the thunderous blast and pulled the cover-up closed with its terrycloth belt.
No one will be able to determine that I came ashore here.
She flipped the remote control over in her hand a few times. It didn’t look lethal. It could have been a garage door opener. She was too close to the explosion site, so it went back into the cover-up’s right pocket for disposal later.

“Sir, excuse me. Where’s the entrance to the subway?” Svetlana radiated warmth.

The man stopped at her European accent and stared into her eyes. “Two blocks that way,” he smiled.

He pointed down the street to her left and waited, hoping she’d say something else. No longer having to act, her face turned hard and the man hurried away. She checked the address she had been carrying since Switzerland, turned left, and walked the two blocks. By the time she descended the subway’s steep stairs, the wig and contacts were in the nearest trash receptacle. Svetlana rubbed the dryness from her eyes caused by the green contacts and studied the subway routes. They were displayed on the white tile walls just above some nasty-looking graffiti.
There you are, Mansfield Avenue in Darien.
Svetlana felt mild success and absentmindedly scratched at a wig-inflicted itch.
Still close to the water. Maybe I should have kept my sub.
She picked the subway line that would let her off closest to Martle’s street and got on board.

 

Dean sat in the Leer jet’s plush leather seat with his cell phone at his ear and stared down at the fluffy white clouds floating a hundred meters below. He had been trying to reach Martle and warn him about Svetlana.
Third time’s a charm
, he hoped. He would leave messages on all of Martle’s communication devices and at every location the general went if he had to.

The Coast Guard and Department of Homeland Security were already placed on high alert for Svetlana’s attack. Now Dean had a clear time frame and needed to let everyone know. Traveling at seven hundred knots, a kilometer above the Earth’s surface might not be fast enough to stop her. She had a two-day lead on them. Dean’s only hope was that her travel time and Martle’s security would slow her down enough so that he could catch her.

Wystl looked anxiously at Dean. “Leaving another message?”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for the damn beep. General, this is Forge: we could have less than twelve hours. Call me.”

“Aren’t you going to tell him the rest?”

“That tells him enough and gives nothing away to anyone who might be listening.”

Wystl’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh.
She
might be listening.”

Dean shook his head and shrugged. “You just never know who is listening and what information they may already have. Intelligence gathering is about putting bits and pieces of data together like pieces to a puzzle. Give people enough information and they will make a picture.”

“That sounds like a scientific method. Piecing together data gained through experimentation to see how something works.” Something was bothering Wystl, so she decided it was time to change the subject.

“Colonel, why are you trying to leave messages?”

Dean was used to Wystl’s surprises, but he thought she understood why they were in such a hurry to contact Martle. He looked at her dumbfounded and the pitch in his voice rose. “Because Martle’s death may be imminent!”

“No, not that.” Wystl was amazed that he thought she couldn’t keep up. “I mean, why call when you can just be there? Have you forgotten how fast the pilot and her fighter traveled from ninety kilometers above your Moon to its surface?”

Dean was still dumbfounded, but for a whole different reason. He hadn’t forgotten about Amy, but he had forgotten that he was traveling with an alien
and
she had the Dimensional Shifter.

Wystl continued. “I think we should leave this plane and travel to Martle’s office in the Sit Room. This plane is very slow, don’t you think?”

“I think you’d better do the thinking from now on.”

Wystl recognized Dean’s weak effort at humor but remained serious. “It would be highly unusual for one person to be able to think of everything, Colonel. I believe that’s why we make such a good team.”

So, we’re a team now.
Because of the problems with his partners in the past,
Dean took teaming up very seriously. With her Shifter control pad, Wystl was formidable and would make a strong partner, at least for the time being.

“You want to be my partner?”

Wystl knew what he meant but couldn’t resist. “Yes, thank you for asking,” she teased.

Dean shook his head and sounded resigned. “You’ve picked up on our sense of humor pretty quickly. I guess we can try it for a while and see how it goes.”

“It will be more interesting than sitting around waiting for the University to rescue me. This way, I can be productive and continue to study your species at the same time.”

“Okay, let’s go find Martle.”

Darkness enveloped Dean. The last thing he saw before arriving in Martle’s office was Wystl’s reassuring blue eyes.

“He’s not here,” Dean growled angrily.

 

The large white two-story house was trimmed in hunter green and had red front double doors. The eight tall columns that lined its elegant veranda and the ancient shade trees reminded Svetlana of a mansion in the American South. A circular driveway swept past the broad porch and back out to the street. Part of the driveway broke to the right and led to a multicar garage that peeked out well behind the house.

She sat at the bus stop across the street from the house and considered the last question on her mental checklist:
Will he be in a hurry and park his car in the front, or will he be anal retentive and park it in the garage?
Waiting in the open wasn’t an option; someone might recognize her, so she crossed the street and headed for the garage.
Either way, I’ll kill him in the garage, or I can enter the house easily enough from the garage and kill him there.

An original desert-camouflaged military vehicle that still looked like it could win a war sat one space over from a classic cherry red 2027 sedan. A late-model glossy deep blue European coupe sat on the far side.
Nice cars
.
She took turns testing each machine’s comfort ratio and finally settled
on the fast European coup. It was parked next to the outside wall, away from the empty slot Martle would use.
He will never even know I’m here until it’s too late
. She settled into the driver’s seat, took a sip of water, and focused inwardly. The melody softly rose in her head, taking on more of a drum cadence that helped her mark time. She patiently began the wait.

“Master Sung,” Svetlana whispered, “I am waiting to kill the general.”

Svetlana, he is a good man. You should not kill him.

“It’s not my decision; someone else will just come after him.”

But they will be less likely to succeed.

“That may be true, Sensei, but I have given my word to kill him and placed my honor on the line. I cannot break my personal oath.”

Have I taught you nothing? Your actions must change with the situation just as you must adapt your fighting style to your opponent or…if the dart fails you.

“The dart has never failed me!”

That is true, but nothing is forever, Svetlana; even the rope dart can be tamed.

When her parents were murdered, Master Sung’s idyllic world ceased to exist for Svetlana. Hard and cruel was the world she found outside the school’s sanctuary. Psychologically, she had grown completely dependent on the rope dart now and needed the security of knowing that would never change. Her master pulled dangerously at a very fragile foundation, and what he foretold normally came to pass.

Desperation mixed with fear, straining her voice. “You believe I will lose with the dart?”

What you believe is what matters, and justice is what you should believe in.

“Justice…I should believe in justice?”

Before Svetlana could finish her thought, the garage door began to creak open.
I guessed right. He is anal retentive.

“We must discuss more of this later, Master.”

The general’s classic white four-door rolled slowly through the door and came to an easy stop. At the same time, Svetlana quietly cracked open the coupe’s passenger door and slid out onto the concrete floor next to the outside wall. Indeed, she was right: he had no idea she was there. Crouched on all fours, Svetlana looked under the cars and watched his black shoes touch the floor. At that moment, she grabbed the dart off her back and leaped onto the hood of the coupe. The dart whistled a meter above her head, ready to strike.

 

The Sit Room was powered down after the Moonbeam incident. It was completely deserted except for a sergeant and a lance corporal. Strangely, from the general’s office, a voice echoed out into the auditorium. Both guards were surprised and wondered how someone got through so many tons of steel and concrete undetected.

The corporal shot a questioning glance at the sergeant and received a slow head shake in return. Pointing his 9mm sidearm at the sound, the sergeant used hand signals to direct the corporal to follow him. Two steps behind with his M45’s muzzle aimed at the floor, the corporal kept close. At the office door, the surprised sergeant stopped abruptly when he saw a beautiful brunette in a tight red dress talking to Colonel Forge. Not ready for the sudden stop, the corporal bumped into the sergeant and pushed him through the door.

“Uh…Colonel Forge, I wasn’t expecting you!” The sergeant was obviously amazed and struggled to maintain his professionalism. “Sir, how…how did you…get in here?”

Wystl went silent and smiled at the intruders. Dean didn’t have time to explain everything and decided to keep his response simple.

BOOK: Consortium of Planets: Alien Test
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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