Ravyn's Flight Page 9

  “This mission,” he said seriously and leaned forward to add emphasis to his words, “isn’t an adventure or a lark. The emergency beacon on J Nine was activated five days ago. It didn’t remain on long before being deactivated, but there has been no communication between Earth and the CAT team. Even more alarming, there has been no contact with the Spec Ops team training on the planet when this incident occurred.”

  “That’s why you need me. I’m as good as Ravyn when it comes to communications. I’ll be able to fix any problem with the equipment on Jarved Nine,” she said, her determination obvious and Alex readjusted his thinking. So much for easy, he thought.

  “If you’re as good as Ravyn, then it follows she would have fixed any problem that cropped up. No, something much more dangerous has happened than an electronics glitch. I need someone who doesn’t require a babysitter.” Alex straightened away from the table. “I’m going to have you pulled from the team.”

  Stacey was out of her chair before he took a step. “If you try to have me pulled, I’ll talk to General Bouchard. How long do you think you’ll be assigned to lead the rescue once he finds out your stepsister is on Jarved Nine?”

  “Blackmail?” Alex asked coldly. He couldn’t quite reconcile this threat with what he knew about the woman.

  “Whatever works,” she asserted. Her mouth trembled slightly, but she firmed it and stared resolutely up at him.

  Alex didn’t have to manufacture his most intimidating look. He was furious. She swallowed hard, but didn’t back down even when he took a step closer so he could tower over her. Stacey raised her chin defiantly, and her eyes didn’t waver from his.

  Since she held all the cards, he conceded the battle to her and moved to the front of the room. If Blowhard found out about Ravyn, he would waste no time pulling him from the mission. And there was no way Alex was leaving Ravyn’s fate in someone else’s hands.

  *** *** ***

  The ship vibrated almost violently and the acceleration pushed her body against the high-backed chair. It wouldn’t get any better until the pilots switched from maneuvering speed to full velocity. Stacey held on to the arms of her seat with more strength than necessary. The idea of traveling in space didn’t leave her white knuckled, but Alex Sullivan sitting next to her made her nerves tap-dance.

  He’d remained coldly furious with her since she’d issued her ultimatum, but he had also made himself her partner. Or babysitter, she corrected with a frown. Alex definitely did not consider her an equal, let alone a valuable, member of his team. Still, he hadn’t left her side since they’d gathered this morning. He’d even sat beside her on the transport off Earth to the full-sized ship docked at one of the space stations.

  Well, she’d dreamed someday Ravyn’s brother would notice her, but she’d always imagined it in a positive way. This definitely fell under the heading “be careful what you wish for.” Right now, she wished he would go away, but until the ship hit open space, they had to remain strapped in their seats.

  “Relax,” he told her, “or you’ll burst a blood vessel.”

  “You wish,” she said. Oh, good comeback, Stace. She should have ignored him, but Alex had been poking at her for more than twenty-four hours and she was sick of it.

  “It’s too late to get a replacement,” he said laconically. Since they were nearly out of controlled space, she guessed it was. Why couldn’t he accept she was part of the team?

  Stacey didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until he looked at her and said, “I’ve had no choice but to accept you, but by forcing yourself along, you’re siphoning off manpower. Instead of focusing on the J Nine situation, I’m going to have to keep an eye on you.”

  They’d been over this before, Stacey thought and sighed. She’d love to tell Alex he was sexist, but it wasn’t true. He had no problem with Dr. Mitchell or the two female members of the flight crew. Just her. Her lack of military training didn’t mean she’d be a detriment. He assumed something catastrophic had happened. General Bouchard had said onscreen there had never been a serious incident at any CAT base. Stacey refused to believe anything had changed that safety record.

  Alex was overreacting because Ravyn was there.

  The ride smoothed out and Alex released his safety harness just before the chime signaled they were out of Earth’s control sector. Evidently, he couldn’t wait to get out of her vicinity. Stacey watched him walk away. The man was too everything. Too tall, too intense, too intimidating, too arrogant, too sexy. Too gorgeous. She had taken one look at him when Ravyn had introduced them six years ago and fallen in love. She doubted the experience had been as memorable for him. When he hadn’t been doting on Ravyn, his focus had been on the beautiful ice blonde that had accompanied him. He’d barely noticed his sister’s best friend.

  Not that she blamed him. She was average in every way. Nothing made her stand out from the crowd. She didn’t want to be flashy, but she didn’t want to be ignored either. Stacey slumped back in her seat and closed her eyes. She had been too excited to sleep last night and now tiredness caught up with her. She’d almost drifted off when the feeling of being watched made her slowly open her eyes. Alex stood towering over her, his muscular thighs spread so he had a foot on either side of her extended legs.

  Stacey didn’t say a word, just drank him in. His light brown hair was liberally kissed by the sun and cut ruthlessly short. That particular military requirement was a shame, she thought dreamily. Alex would look good with longer hair. His face and hands were darkly tanned and she wondered how much of the rest of him was the same shade. Her eyes trailed over heavily muscled flesh, admiring the fit of his camouflage fatigues. He had big hands, she noticed, wondering if it was true what that implied. Her lips curved at the thought.

  The sound of a throat being cleared had her glancing up in question. She didn’t miss the humor on his too handsome face or the fact that his brown eyes glittered with amusement. “If you’re done ogling my body, I want to go over this with you.”

  Stacey colored in mortification. How could she have forgotten, even for a moment, that this was the real Alex Sullivan and not some fantasy? She couldn’t hide the fierce blush that burned her face, but she was able to ask normally enough, “Go over what?”

  He waved the paper he held and Stacey felt her blush deepen. She hadn’t even noticed he had something in his hand. The mission had barely begun and she’d already blown her appearance of disregard. Darn it. “What is that?” she asked.

  “This is a schedule. You may have forced yourself on this mission, but I don’t have to accept your incompetence.”

  Stacey furiously tried to push herself to her feet, only to be stopped short. She’d never unsnapped her safety harness. He managed to laugh at her without emitting a sound or changing his facial expression. Which only incited her anger further.

  Deliberately, she opened the catch and stood. Alex didn’t move, which left her standing too close for her peace of mind. “I am not incompetent,” she got out between gritted teeth. She had a strong urge to give him a hard shove, but she knew better.

  He ignored her assertion, and after folding the paper, slipped it in one of her pockets. “This is your training schedule. I have fifteen days to get you whipped into shape.” His eyes ran down her body, then up again. “Don’t be late. We’ll need every minute.”

  He left Stacey sputtering.

  *** *** ***

  “How can you say the curse hasn’t been lifted?” Carmichael demanded. “The Cubs played in the World Series.”

  Alex didn’t stop. He kept walking past the members of the team gathered in the lounge.

  “They lost, man! Up three games to none and they dropped four straight.” Baxter sounded every bit as vehement.

  Voices rose and ran over each other until he couldn’t tell who said what. The sides seemed to be equally divided on whether or not the jinx was over. The idea that a hex existed was never questioned, he noted, shaking his head in disbelief. The group did finally manage to a
gree, however, that there was no telling how long it would take the Cubs to make it to the Series again.

  Alex settled himself in a chair off in the corner and tuned them out. He didn’t believe in bad luck or voodoo and he didn’t want to get pulled into a discussion about it.

  He had other things to consider.

  Like the fact that a certain wasp-tongued little hick wanted in his pants. Given the look of complete lust in her eyes, he figured she’d fantasized about that very thing a time or two before. He didn’t have to think hard on how he felt about it.

  The twitch in his shorts said it all.

  It didn’t matter how much that particular part of him throbbed; it wasn’t getting relief anytime soon. Even if the timing didn’t stink, even if he weren’t leading the team, he still wouldn’t act on it. Everything he knew about her indicated Stacey didn’t have sex; she made love. And Alex didn’t invest that much of himself in relationships with women. Not anymore.

  “Alex, may I sit down?” Dr. Mitchell asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Of course.” Alex stood until the older woman was seated and then took his chair again.

  “I know Ravyn is on Jarved Nine. Are you okay?”

  “Sure.”

  She didn’t say another word, just lifted one brow.

  Alex held his silence for a few seconds. Gwen Mitchell had been a frequent visitor to the Sullivan household when he’d been a teenager and he knew there was no stonewalling her. “Okay, so I’m worried. I’ve got a bad feeling about what’s going on.”

  “So do I,” Dr. Mitchell said solemnly. “Ravyn isn’t the only person I’m concerned about. I don’t know if you realize how close CAT team members are to each other. We become like family even before going off world.”

  “Ravyn’s mentioned something to that effect,” Alex said.

  Dr. Mitchell stared at him, taking his measure. Fifteen years ago he might have squirmed under her steady regard, but not now. Alex knew who he was, knew his abilities and his weaknesses and he was comfortable in his skin.

  After a moment she nodded. “One of the theories, probably your lead theory, is a member of the team lost it up on J Nine. That the isolation and seeing the same faces day after day made them snap. Maybe this person destroyed the comm equipment; maybe he even hurt some of the other team members.”

  “It’s the most logical supposition.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Closeness doesn’t guarantee someone wouldn’t hurt the other team members. Look at how many murders are committed by family members,” Alex argued quietly.

  “I know. I won’t bring up the battery of psychological tests each person went through before being accepted into CAT,” the doctor said, “although you know how extensive it is.”

  Alex nodded. He knew. Ravyn, chatterbox that she was, had told him everything about it. “What is your reasoning then?”

  Dr. Mitchell leaned forward. “We both know how that Spec Ops team went into the facility. Do you honestly think some out-of-his-head CAT member was able to ambush them?”

  “No.” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Ravyn mentioned how much extra training you put her through before she joined the program.” The doctor laid a hand on his arm, offering sympathy and support. “If it was one of the team, she could have taken care of herself.”

  “And that’s why you think it’s my favorite scenario.”

  “Yes. Alex, you’re leading this mission, you need to be prepared.”

  “What do you think I need to be prepared for?” He lowered his arm and the doctor withdrew her hand. Alex didn’t think he wanted to hear this.

  “At first, I thought it might be a virus, something the team members had no immunity to. I discounted that. If that had been the case, your Team Two would have had enough time to send a message and warn others even if the CAT team didn’t.”

  Alex was damn glad to hear she didn’t think it was a virus. Ravyn would have been as helpless as anyone else on J Nine if that was what had happened. “So if you don’t think it was a CAT team member gone mad or an illness, what does that leave?”

  He watched the doctor take a deep breath. Whatever it was, she was reluctant to bring it up. Finally she asked, “What was a Spec Ops team doing on Jarved Nine?”

  “No.” Alex stood, refusing to believe what her question implied.

  “Have you heard of another training mission to a planet that hasn’t been colonized?” The doctor stood too and looked at him.

  “Why would you think Team Two was sent there to eliminate a CAT team for heaven’s sake?” Alex kept his voice low. He didn’t want the others to hear this. A quick glance told him they remained occupied with their own discussion.

  “The Old City. What if the team found something the Western Alliance doesn’t want anyone to know?”

  That stopped Alex short. He knew the Alliance leaders weren’t above something like that. His stomach began to churn.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” he insisted. “Why launch this rescue mission with Spec Ops personnel if that’s what happened?”

  “You know as well as I do the freelance comm operators picked up the emergency beacon. Public pressure was beginning to build and would have gotten worse once the press started covering it,” the doctor said, her tone calm.

  “No,” Alex said again. “I know one of the men on Team Two. He would never follow those orders.”

  “It’s something you need to consider, Alex,” the doctor said quietly before walking away.

  Alex left the lounge and went into his quarters. He sat heavily on his bunk and leaned forward until his hands dangled between his knees. He stared at the toes of his boots and thought about what Gwen Mitchell had said.

  It was possible. But that wasn’t what had happened.

  If it were any other Spec Ops team, he wouldn’t be this sure. There was no way Command could present it, no spin they could put on it, that Brody would buy. He was too smart to fall for a bunch of lies and too principled to carry out orders that went against his morals. Alex released a long breath and straightened.

  It was a helluva thing when a person had to put his trust in the honor of a man he despised.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ravyn hated mud.

  After two days of incessant showers, the sun had finally made an appearance. But it would take more than a few hours of sunshine to dry out the sodden earth, and now the humidity had reached nearly unbearable levels. Between sweat and rain, Ravyn had gotten used to damp clothes, but she couldn’t tolerate the dirt ground into the fabric.

  Days of slogging through mud had left her pants coated below the knee. She’d wiped her filthy hands on her thighs, her butt, her shirt, everywhere, spreading the muck to new locations. Ravyn didn’t want to think about how many times her grimy hands had touched her face. Her hair felt plastered to her head. Strands escaped the braid and continually fell into her face. Every time she pushed them back, she cringed, knowing she deposited more dirt.

  So far Damon had found them dry places to spend the night, but Ravyn hadn’t gotten much rest. Whenever she shut her eyes, all she saw was blood. The nightmares hit her relentlessly, but at least she hadn’t disturbed Damon again. He wasn’t the type of man who would fake sleep in the face of her anguish, even if he had become cold and abrupt.

  Ravyn made a face at his back, but didn’t slow her steps. His remoteness added to her ill-humor. The only thing that had made this ordeal bearable had been talking with Damon. Now she didn’t even have that. He spoke only to issue orders.

  They took frequent rests because of the draining humidity, but she really wanted a nice, hot bath. She focused on thoughts of a deep tub full of scented bubbles as she walked. At times she would imagine champagne and strawberries, but mostly she pictured soap and shampoo. She bit back a sigh of longing. Never again would she take being clean for granted.

  The wind gusted, rousing Ravyn from her fantasies. She watched Damon duck under a low
tree branch draped with thorned vines. The breeze came again even more strongly and one of the trailing vines whipped across his arm, just below the sleeve of his T-shirt. She winced as she watched a jagged barb rip at his skin. It didn’t cause so much as a hitch in his sure stride. Cautiously, she held the vine up and edged under it. Even with the mud covering him, she could see several drops of blood well before they crawled down his biceps. She’d asked yesterday why he’d tucked his long-sleeve shirt in the pack, but hadn’t received an answer.

  At last, he glanced down at the cut, but there was no other reaction, not so much as a curse. Ravyn couldn’t see his face, but she guessed his expression remained stoic. This robot warrior persona drove her insane.

  He was as covered in grime as she was. His camouflage fatigue pants appeared more brown from dried mud than any other color as did his once olive T-shirt. Yet the scrapes and dirt made him appear even more ruggedly handsome while Ravyn knew beyond doubt she looked pathetic.

  It was so unfair.

  The self-condemnation rose then, as it did anytime she felt sorry for herself. She knew she was lucky to be alive, lucky to be this miserable. It was just hard to remember that sometimes. Instead of soothing her surliness, the feelings of guilt added to it.

  They started up a steep incline and Ravyn had to concentrate on keeping her balance. The mud here was thin and slippery, with no grass of any kind to hold the ground together. Her feet slid out from under her and she grabbed a bush to keep from falling. Cursing softly, she pushed herself upright. The swearing became more vehement when she realized she’d sustained several small, stinging cuts on her hands. Damon never even turned to see how she fared. She scowled at his back. Evidently, Captain Android couldn’t exhibit even token concern for the troops.

  When she reached the top of the ridge, Ravyn paused to catch her breath. If anything, the descent appeared steeper than it had been going up. And it looked muddier. There must have been a landslide recently since there was a path down the middle of the hill where the otherwise heavy vegetation had been replaced by a sweep of sludge. Great. Damon hadn’t stopped, but she didn’t worry about it. Despite his demeanor, she felt confident he wouldn’t let her get too far behind him.