Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series (8 page)

Any hope she might have had of the guards not hearing the sound was quashed when Zar walked to the table and picked up her tablet. Maybe he wouldn’t know for sure whose it was. That was a short-lived hope, because he walked straight to her with the compact device in hand.

“Care to answer it?” His tone was dry, but his eyes were sharp. Yeah, he also realized that the call could only be coming from someone on the station who wasn’t in this room. They were too far out for real-time calls from any other planets or stations.

“Nah,” Tamryn said. “I’m sure it’s just my manicurist letting me know I’m late for my appointment. Thanks to your inconsiderate raid, I’ll have to pay a cancellation fee.”

Zar frowned and opened the tablet. It had stopped beeping, but he would want to know who had commed and from where.

“How can you joke with them?” a gray-haired woman asked from her spot slumping against the wall. A bruise had nearly swallowed her right eye.

Tamryn didn’t know her name or the names of most of the civilians yet, but her hackles rose at the idea of being condemned by anyone who was supposed to be on her side. “Trust me—I’m not joking, and there’s no amusement in my heart. Responding with sarcasm is just my natural instinct. And yes, sometimes that gets me in trouble.” She glanced warily at Zar.

He was fumbling with the tablet, probably figuring out that it would take her thumb on the controls to bring up any messages.

The scientist shook her head and looked away.

“That why you got stuck out here?” Powell said, far more sympathy in his eyes. Soldiers understood sarcasm perfectly well.

Tamryn shrugged and gave him a vague smile. When the other soldiers learned about her family connections, they always thought she was here as a punishment or because someone wanted to teach her a lesson. She had stopped admitting she had requested the station, because everyone had thought her nuts. Maybe they were right.

“Open it.” Zar held the tablet down to her.

“No, thank you.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You want the information, you figure out how to get it.” From the way he had been fumbling with the tablet, she already suspected he wasn’t that familiar with the device, which was strange, since two out of three people in the system had something very similar.

A hand grabbed the back of Tamryn’s collar, and she was yanked to her feet before she could think to resist or duck or anything. The medical injector lay on the floor between the two soldiers. She cursed to herself. Why hadn’t she thought to palm it? With these men’s reflexes, she couldn’t have counted on stabbing them with the sedatives, but she might never have gotten a better chance to try. The third guard was still by the door, but if she could have taken out two, maybe—

The hand grabbing her collar shifted to her neck. “Zar, you want information from a prisoner, you take it. We aren’t here to make friends.” The hand tightened. It was the guard with the roaming eyes. He leaned close, his chest pressing against her back. “Open the computer, girl,” he growled into her ear, “and tell us who’s trying to contact you.”

Zar shifted uneasily. “Rebek, the hunt leader said not to hurt her, that we still need her to use the comm system.”

“She can do that while hurt. And I heard what Makk said. To keep her alive, that’s it. Give her the computer.”

Tamryn found her tablet pressed into her hand. Zar’s young face was apologetic beneath the tattoo, but he stepped back. This Rebek must outrank him. Whatever Makkon had said, Zar didn’t look like he dared to try to stop Rebek from hurting her.

Tamryn closed her eyes, aware of the cool feel of the tablet, the rounded edges against her palm. If only it were a weapon, or if only she could think up something clever to do with it. If Porter was out there somewhere, Tamryn didn’t want to do anything to help these people find her. If anyone could come up with something to do to get the station back, it would be she. Tamryn couldn’t betray her, no matter how much this bastard hurt her.

“Open it,” Rebek growled, his voice low and dangerous.

His thumb dug into a pressure point in her neck, and pain ricocheted through her body. She couldn’t hold back a gasp or the tears that sprang to her eyes, but she locked her mouth shut. She tightened her fist around the tablet, trying to focus her thoughts on it and not the increasing pain as Rebek dug in. The only thing that gave her some bravery and the ability to resist was knowing that they wouldn’t kill her, not until their damned message was sent.

“What are you doing to my prisoner, Rebek?” an ice cold voice asked from the other side of the room.

Rebek released her so quickly, Tamryn almost toppled onto Cox.

“Her comm beeped, sir,” Zar said. “We were trying to get her to answer it. Figure that means there’s at least one more soldier or scientist out there.”

It took Tamryn a moment to blink the black dots out of her vision and steady herself enough to stand straight. She turned around, hoping she would see Makkon about to drive a fist into Rebek’s stomach. But he was looking at her, his eyes closed to slits. Right. He wasn’t an ally, and he probably wasn’t going to beat up any of his own people on her behalf.

“Noted. I’ll send out a search party.” Makkon strode toward her and cut her bonds. “But for now, we have more pressing concerns. Let’s go, Pavlenko. We’re taking a walk.”

“Can’t wait,” she muttered, slipping her tablet into her pocket as he reached for her opposite arm.

She expected one of them to notice the movement and take the item from her, but Makkon wasn’t even looking at her. He was walking toward the door almost before he grabbed her. Zar opened his mouth—he probably hadn’t missed it—but whatever he saw in his commander’s face convinced him not to say anything. As Tamryn followed Makkon, she did not question her luck. Fate knew it was the first luck she’d had tonight.

She had to hurry to keep up with Makkon. The stubborn part of her made her want to dawdle, anything to delay his mission.

“We going to communications?” She remembered what his last errand had entailed and if this had to do with that, delaying him might not be a good idea.

He gave her a dark look. “No.”

Tamryn decided against delays, and walked into the lift with him without struggling. The uneasy feeling of dread in her stomach, a feeling that had grown extremely familiar tonight, returned when he pressed Level Ten. The top level, the one that led to the upper gun station. Did he think she could do something to help with bombs? If he’d found the ones in Comm and Control, maybe he thought she’d set them and was a munitions expert. She shook her head. If he needed help disarming explosives, he should have kept Sergeant Wu alive.

They walked out of the lift on Level Ten and strode straight to the end of the corridor where a ladder led upward.

Makkon stopped at the bottom. “You first.”

“Such a gentleman,” she said, knowing full well he didn’t want to give her a chance to run—or a chance to be at his back.

Tamryn climbed up, wondering if she might do something in the second or two she would have before he climbed into the weapons room after her. All thought of disobedience and escape fled her mind when she saw what waited in the circular chamber. The bristling barrels of long, anti-spacecraft guns were visible through the 360-degree view the shielded windows provided, but it was the man sitting against the base of a console below those guns that drew her eye.

Sergeant Gruzinsky, blood dripping from his face and saturating his abdomen, was surrounded by pounds and pounds of explosives. He had strapped them to his sides. Wires ran from each bunch to a small square detonator gripped in his hand. His thumb rested atop the single button visible on it, and that button was already depressed.

Alarm flooded through Tamryn as the implications slammed into her. The man who had reported to Makkon hadn’t exaggerated. There were enough explosives that if he let go, the entire station would be blown into nothing more than shrapnel orbiting Glaciem. If he died... or passed out... his finger would relax, releasing that button. And Gruzinsky’s face was paler than the ice moon. He looked like he could pass out at any instant.

Makkon touched her calf, and she realized she was standing half on the ladder and half in the room, gaping at the sergeant. Though she wanted nothing more than to flee to the opposite end of the station, she forced her numb legs to take her the rest of the way into the chamber. Nowhere on the station would be safe if those explosives went off.

An irritated sigh came from the side and only then did she notice the other person in the room. A gray-haired pirate with a white tiger tattoo sprawled across his nose and cheek. He leaned against a console, watching her and watching the sergeant, his fingers drumming a beat on the metal.

“No change?” Makkon asked, pulling himself into the chamber, his big arm and shoulder muscles flexing as he did so.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” the other man snapped.

Judging by the lack of honorific, Tamryn figured he might be Makkon’s commander. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Even if Makkon was every bit the killer that the rest of them were, and even if he had scared the piss out of her as he’d been stalking her through the station, she had him pegged as one of the least odious of the pirates. She didn’t trust him, but at the same time, she thought he
might
stay true to his word to keep her alive if she cooperated with him. Too bad she couldn’t do that.

“Now show me what you think the girl can do,” the man added.

Makkon shrugged. “She’s an officer.” He waved at Gruzinsky. “He’s not.”

The man looked at Makkon like he was an idiot. If the look bothered Makkon, he didn’t show it. He put a hand on Tamryn’s shoulders, as if they were good friends and such a gesture were natural. Please. As if he hadn’t been hauling her around by the neck an hour ago. She got the gist of what he wanted before he asked.

“Tell him to stand down,” Makkon said, “and let us disarm the explosives.”

“I’m not on your side, asshole,” Tamryn said.

The gray-haired man smirked, though it held no humor. It was more of a smug I-was-right smirk. Tamryn instantly disliked him. She almost wanted to work with Makkon to make the man eat that smirk.

“If the explosives go off, we all die,” Makkon said calmly, not showing any annoyance at her statement.

Tamryn wanted to say something flippant, like
then we all die
, but she didn’t truly want that. The sergeant had guts for rigging this, but this wasn’t a military installation guarding military secrets. This was a civilian installation, guarding secrets that went beyond the military. They were here to protect those scientists and secrets, not blow them up. Beyond that... she wasn’t ready to die. She’d barely had a career, a life.

Swallowing, she looked in Gruzinsky’s eyes, trying to gauge whether he truly intended to blow everybody up, or if he was bluffing. Unfortunately, she didn’t know him that well. His eyes seemed sharp, despite the paleness of his face and the blood pooled on the deck below him, the crimson puddle growing larger with each passing minute.

She had to assume that he already would have blown up the station if that was what he really wanted. Still, would he stand down if she ordered it? She doubted it. Her rank might say that she was his superior officer, but she had been here three weeks and barely knew any of the men. She did not think he would obey an order she gave if she uttered it while standing next to their enemies, especially when one of those enemies had a hand on her shoulder.

Tamryn shrugged away from Makkon’s grip, not wanting Gruzinsky to think she was willingly helping them. His hand twitched toward her, like he might reclaim his hold, but he ultimately dropped his arm. Maybe he had realized everything she was thinking.

“What’s the plan, Sergeant?” she asked, hoping the man
had
a plan.

“All the pirates off the station,” he rasped, his voice weak. “In their ship and their ship gone. That happens, and I’ll try to disarm myself without blowing us up.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Makkon said.

“Then we all die.” Gruzinsky smiled, showing teeth stained red with blood.

Tamryn didn’t know who had gotten to him before he’d managed to rig this, but she hoped the bastard was dead in a corner somewhere.

The gray-haired man grabbed Tamryn’s arm, moving too quickly for her to think of dodging. She had scarcely registered his attack before she found herself pressed against his chest, the muzzle of a pistol pressed against her temple. A fresh wave of fear slammed into her, but she kept from showing her terror. She glowered at Makkon, letting him know she was displeased at being dragged up here and threatened. Not that he would care, but it made her feel slightly better. For his part, he looked surprised.

“What are you doing, Brax?” he asked.

“Listen, Sergeant,” Brax said, ignoring Makkon and staring hard at Gruzinsky. “You disarm yourself right now, or I blow her head off.”

Though it was hard to think with the cold muzzle pressed against her temple, Tamryn forced herself to put on a brave front. “He’s about to sacrifice all of us, you fool,” she growled. “I die in that situation anyway.”

Makkon watched her, his face difficult to read. She thought he might be displeased by Brax’s tactic, but he didn’t step in to do anything about it. Just like Zar down below. Not in charge, his stance said.

“It’s harder to watch a pretty woman die than it is to blow yourself up,” Brax said. “And there are worse things than death that can happen to pretty women.” He kept the pistol pressed to her head, but his other arm lowered. It still wrapped around her to restrain her, but his thumb hooked into her belt, his meaning clear.

This time, Makkon did take a step forward, his eyes cold. “Brax,” he growled, a warning in his tone.

Tamryn was more concerned about Gruzinsky, because his eyes had widened at this threat. For the first time, uncertainty mingled with pain on his face.

“Shit, Gray-Hair,” Tamryn said, knowing she had to find a way to tell Gruzinsky not to budge, not for this. “If you can get it up while standing next to a hundred pounds of explosives, then maybe you deserve to rule this station.”