The Transporter's Favor C.M. Simpson (most motivational books .TXT) 📖

could adopt him once we sent you away. He seemed like a nice boy.”

The ‘nice boy’ glared at him, rumbling out a deep-chested growl, and Bennett shrugged.

“So, looks can be deceiving…”

Delight huffed out a sigh.

“Look. As sweet as all this is, you wanted to meet with me, and I wanted Cutter and Abby released so they could get on with their investigations. How clean are your offices?”

Bennett understood in a flash, and shrugged. Nice to know the man wasn’t dumb enough to think his work space was safe to chat in. Maybe we’d be better off just doing this on the roof. He started to explain.

“They’re as clean as we can make them, but…” and that was as far as he got. Silver light wrapped around us all, leaving the pilot and gunners on the roofline. Delight was all teeth and false cheer when we rematerialized ship-board.

Beckett straightened his shirt, and glared at her.

“That was illegal,” he snapped, “and entirely unnecessary.”

“Uh huh.” Delight grinned, and then her smile vanished.

“You need to call your dogs off our heavy transport shuttle, too,” she said, “or I’m going to order a diplomatic incident.”

He paled.

“They’re only doing their jobs.”

“And they need to do it by securing the perimeter and letting our transporter get to work, or you’ll have more vacancies to fill than people willing to take the risk of applying.”

And now he swallowed.

“Risk?”

“Odyssey wants its Dasojin ally where Odyssey can protect it.”

Beckett raised his hand to his ear.

“Your comms are clear, and being monitored. We have most of Sharovan’s safety phrases uploaded, now. I’d make sure I spoke plainly, if I were you.”

Beckett did. His orders were clear, explicit and without compromise.

“Yes, Chief. Now. That is an Odyssey heavy lifter and it is there for the Dasojin craft.”

“No, Chief. Our mission parameters have changed. You will be updated shortly. Please secure that perimeter before you create a diplomatic incident.”

His frown changed to a glare and he snapped, “Now! Chief!”

Delight waited, her eyes looking into the distance of a long-range scan image transmitted to her skull. When she relaxed, the easing of tension was mirrored in Beckett’s shoulders. He blinked himself back to his current position, and turned to Delight.

“There. I think that will be to your satisfaction.”

“Well done, Beckett. I think I might request you as the Odyssey-Sharovan liaison.”

And I caught the faint gleam of overhead lighting reflecting off the sweat on Beckett’s face, followed by the glimmer of a thought that maybe Odyssey would hire him when this was over, because he was properly screwed at Sharovan. He covered it fast, and ran his finger around the inside of his collar.

“Thank you, Agent.”

Delight clapped him on the shoulder, and his whole body jerked, startlement flitting across his face. I stared at them, wondering what it was about Delight that scared ten tons of stardust out of even hardened investigators.

Pritchard came alongside me, and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. His breath tickled my ear.

“You don’t want to know.”

I didn’t, and I was suddenly wary of why he was so up-in-my-face-all-touchy-feely. He wasn’t a wolf, after all, and last time… I froze. Last time, he’d wanted to walk me out an airlock to see if I could cope… or was that the time before?

“You have a very long memory,” he said, and his arm tightened, right before he hit me with an auto-injector he’d been holding behind his back.

“You son-of-a…”

Becket stopped and turned, his face a comical mix of horror and disbelief. Delight watched me fighting to stay awake as she explained.

“She needs about an hour in re-gen, and you need to give me access to your company’s security files.”

“Uh, I’ll need authorization.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure you do.”

That looked like an interesting conversation to follow, except I couldn’t. It was sliding away from me, just like the rest of the ship. Well, damn. Somewhere in the rapidly receding distance, Cascade pranced and whined. I tried to reach for him.

“Pritch…”

When the world came back into focus, he was waiting for me outside the tank, sitting in the same space that Mack usually occupied, and reading a magazine. Cascade was sprawled on the floor beside his feet. My implant informed me I’d been out for three hours rather than one, and that Abby was still off-line.

“Why am I still in the tank?”

Pritchard looked up.

“You’re welcome. No, we won’t be adding it to your tab, but if you’d like…”

I frowned at him, trying to tap my foot, and he stood, setting the magazine aside. Beside him, Cascade raised his head, following Pritchard with his eyes. Pritchard stretched down to scratch the pup’s head, and Cascade stood, walking with him as he came over to the tank.

“Someone gave you a better kicking than we realized. Your under-armor kept you upright, but when we got it off…” His eyes clouded, and he shook his head. “Let’s just say it acted like a compression bandage and you gave the docs a fright when they removed it.”

I vaguely remembered someone kicking ten kinds of crap out of me when they boarded Abby.

“Simon,” Pritchard informed me. “We think he was trying to stop the extent of his part in the last incident from being uncovered. Beckett did some digging, and helped us find that he’d had two colleagues.”

I waited.

“They put out the contract on Mack, the ship, and Dasojin, and then Beckett’s authorizations ran out, and Delight set the Hack Squad to work.”

Hack Squad?

“Tens’s old rivals.” Pritchard smiled. “He and Abby gave them a run for their money back in the day.”

They had?

Pritchard shook his head and started to turn away. Half way through, he paused.

“Beckett wants to negotiate for the Shady’s people to retrieve their missing agents. Apparently, the missing Sharovan agents have a nice little lunar cell with their names on them.”

I shook my head at his mimicry.

“I have one of those, too.”

“Not any more. Sharovan have rethought its actions. In addition to not issuing you a fine and deporting you, which is the usual penalty for a first offence,