The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12) Ian Malone (the false prince series txt) 📖

“I get it, and you’re right,” Taylor said. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need him alive. We have to find out what he knows.”

“Yes, yes,” Akoya rushed out. “Chief Van Zant is right. There are forces at work none of you can possibly imagine! You need to hear what I have to say!”

Jack snarled a curse.

“Tell me about these forces of yours,” Taylor said to the alien. “Who are they and what do they want?”

“I promise I will tell you everything!” Akoya pled. “First, though, I need your assurances that I won’t be harmed.”

Jack was practically foaming at the mouth. “Gimme the word, Chief. Gimme the word, and I’ll end this traitor once and for all before he hurts anybody else.”

Everything in Taylor wanted to let his friend do it, if for no other reason than to get justice for Stan, Ubeloff, and every other innocent being who’d been swept up in Akoya’s quest for revenge. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. The fact was, the last time Taylor had heard such talk from a Sumatozou, he’d learned that one singular race—the Vergola—had secretly seized control of the entire Cartography Guild in the aftermath of the Great War. They had to play this right, or Taylor’s gut said they’d all pay the price down the line for their lack of temperance in the moment.

“Jedidiah Stan was hands-down the smartest merc I ever knew,” Taylor said with a small smile. “I’ll tell ya right now, that old coot was always thinkin’, always runnin’ the numbers. Seriously, no detail escaped him.” Taylor laughed. “Hell, come to think of it, I reckon that’s why I never beat him at chess.”

The cowboy shook his head. “What are you drivin’ at, Chief?”

“Something way bigger than us, or even those red diamonds, is at play here,” Taylor said. “I say we take a lesson from Stan and catch our breath here before we do anything rash. Maybe then, after we’ve gotten some perspective, we can figure out what exactly it is we’re involved in here.”

“Yes,” Akoya urged. “Listen to your CO!”

The cowboy aimed another snarl at the elephant.

“Look at the timeline, Jack,” Taylor said before the other could strike. “Our stay on Droxis may’ve felt like an eternity, but the truth is, we’ve only been down here a week. That’s nowhere near enough time for Genovese to transition off world for help, then get back here in time to save our hides from being gutted by the wasps. Run the math, brother. It don’t add up. None of this does.”

Jack barked a curse, then sighed. Pissed as the cowboy was—and rightfully so—even he couldn’t deny the logic of Taylor’s theory.

“Somebody else deployed the spiders,” Taylor said. “Not only that, they knew where and when to send them in order to bail our skins out of the fire. And what’s the one stipulation their mercs gave us when they arrived on scene?”

“That come hell or high water, Akoya Vello was going back with them,” Jack grumbled.

“Damn right.” Taylor pointed back to the fallen Sumatozou. “All roads lead back to him, Jack. No matter how you slice it, that’s a fact. That’s also why you can’t kill him. Not today.”

It took the cowboy a minute, but eventually he found the will to lower the arm blade he held at Akoya’s throat.

“Thank you, Chief Van Zant.” Akoya panted. “Truly, you are a credit to your—”

Thwack!

Taylor brushed off the butt of his carbine, then lowered the rifle to his side as a motionless Akoya laid sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

“Are you sure you didn’t shatter his jaw with that shot?” Genovese asked, walking over with the Flatar leader.

“No.” Taylor shrugged. “But I figure they got nanites for that, so whatever. He’s alive. That’s all that matters.”

Genovese shook his head and grinned. “The last of the KzSha are on the run. I do have some bad news, though.”

“What’s that?” Taylor asked.

“The kambersite mine,” Genovese said. “Apparently, before our fat friend here made a run for it, he had his stinger-happy minions blow the place. Some of the slaves made it out, but all the shafts have been completely obliterated. There’s nothing left.”

“Damn.” Jack grimaced. “Talk about flushin’ somebody’s fortune down the crapper.”

Amen to that.

The Flatar stepped forward. “On behalf of my crew, I thank you for your assistance in apprehending our target. I will summon my people to come collect the Sumatozou, and we will be on our way.”

“Ya know, I been puttin’ some thought into that,” Taylor said. “I think you should leave the Sumatozou where he is and head back out the way you came in.”

The little alien gave an audible huff of amusement. “And why would I do that?”

“Because it’d be way more profitable.” Taylor grinned.

That got the Flatar’s attention.

“Commander Bowyer?” Taylor called. “Would you be so kind as to escort Captain Genovese out of earshot so the colonel and I can have a private discussion?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Genovese blurted.

“You heard me,” Taylor said. “Take a hike. Beat it. Scram, or whatever you New Yorkers like to say in lieu of ‘get the hell out.’”

Genovese answered with a flat smirk. “So we’re back to that now, are we?”

“If the Yankees cap fits,” Taylor quipped.

The River Hawks’ captain opened his mouth for another protest but was cut off when Jack’s CASPer came nose to nose with his own.

“If I were you, son, I’d give serious consideration to doin’ exactly as the man says,” the cowboy growled. “Now get to steppin.”

Taylor waited for the pair to leave before addressing his fellow merc commander. “You said when you arrived that the terms of your contract required you to return Akoya to your client, dead or alive. Correct?”

“That is correct,” the spider