Havoc (Dred Chronicles 2)

The spymaster boosted into the ducts with her close behind and set a silent course to the nearest major intersection. Dred didn’t hear the tromp of heavy boots that would indicate mercs but the smell—there was no nearby grille panel for visual confirmation, yet Dred was sure a large group of Mungo’s men were moving nearby. Tam signaled a few things and she recalled enough from working with soldiers of fortune to understand he was indicating forty men, heading west. Away from Queensland.

Interesting.

She flashed her hands four times to confirm the number, and he nodded. Not a threat we need to worry about today, at least. Dred lifted her chin to indicate she got it, then Tam continued deeper into enemy territory. As they passed a duct panel, she glimpsed Silence’s killers clad in black, moving like ghosts below. All of them had their garrotes out, which meant they planned to do some killing.

“They’re headed for the Warren,” Tam whispered.

Too bad for Katur and company, but Silence’s choice of first strike gave Dred some room to maneuver. She experienced a pang of regret at reacting that way, but survival didn’t offer the liberty of altruistic gestures. In here, it’s us or them. Maybe, if she played her hand close to the vest, Queensland wouldn’t be annihilated by the mercs. It was also possible that Katur would play a long game of cat and mouse, forcing Silence to a frustrated retreat. Nobody knew the bowels of the ship like the aliens.

“Nothing that will hinder us much,” she said softly. “Let’s go back to the others.”

“Agreed.” In private, he didn’t use the faintly ironic “my queen” that he favored in front of other Queenslanders.

The return journey went much faster, now that they knew what to expect. Martine and Jael seemed edgy, though that might’ve been because their location had been more exposed. Jael paced forward three steps when he spotted Dred. She shook her head slightly; whatever he had to say could wait. Seeming oblivious to undertone, though doubtless that was only the impression he wished to give, Tam made a brief report of what they’d found.

Martine was frowning. “Can we circle around?”

Tam nodded. “It’ll take longer, but yes. This way.”

Farther on, Dred heard the distant echo of combat, but Tam veered away. Good call; she preferred not to waste time and resources on internal conflict when the mercs posed the greatest threat. If the other factions weren’t completely psychotic, they’d see that themselves.

Both Jael and Martine were light on their feet. This time, if they were forced to fight, she’d opt for knives. Better if they weren’t, however, at least until they had the cache.

The walls were gunmetal gray, etched with scars and encrusted with turns of grime. There hadn’t been a sanitation staff since long before convicts took over the place. Ike had told her that drones like RC-17 were responsible for the cleaning, and some spots, the bots just couldn’t reach. Turns of neglect had made it worse. Bulbs had burned out and not been replaced, so there were patches of shadow, loose wires dangling from broken ceiling hatches.

Tam’s path took them through the neutral zone, down two levels, and out the other side. The smell alone told her they were getting close to what had been Grigor’s territory. Farther on, blood smeared the walls, remnants of the battle where most of his brutes died. It had taken days to haul away the bodies.

“Left at the next turn,” she said.

She sent RC-17 in to make sure no squatters had taken possession of the area, then she led her crew along to where the hallway widened into a great room. Through there and deeper in the zone, they’d hidden several crates. The stillness was making her nervous, so she quickened her step, not pausing until she opened the supply-room doors. Rubbish and empty containers were piled up in front, disguising the treasures hidden deeper within.

“Grab as much as you can carry,” Dred said.

The hover dolly would’ve made this job easier, but it also would’ve been harder to maneuver, and it would’ve invited notice. Better to use manual labor and get it done the old-fashioned way. She and Tam scrutinized the supplies while Martine perched atop a box, reclining like a cat.

“Food first,” Tam suggested.

“That’s a genius idea.” Martine was smirking. “Are you sure nuts and bolts aren’t more important? If this death trap falls apart, we’ll choke faster than we starve.”

His dark eyes flashed at her. Dred left them bickering amicably as she prowled through the salvage. Once she designated the crates that needed to be moved right away, Jael piled four boxes in his arms, and she pretended she didn’t realize he was showing off. She and Martine took two each, as did Tam.

“RC-17 can scout for us on the way back,” Tam said.

“Agreed.” She deployed the bot and let it scurry around corners.

It was programmed to beep in sequence, then speak an alert message if it encountered other life-forms. In here, it was best to assume they were hostile and respond accordingly. She moved cautiously behind the bot while they retraced their steps.

“Hard to believe this place was full of people, not that long ago,” Martine said.

“Life is change.” Jael wore his customary insouciant expression, the one that suggested he had no deeper feelings.

That look was a liar.

Dred drew him aside while Tam and Martine argued over the next supply priority. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, queenie. What makes you think otherwise?” The flat tone gave away more than he intended.

I know you better than that now.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said.

He pushed out a breath, his blue eyes unusually dark. “I’m thinking about Einar, all right? He was a bastard and a murderer or he wouldn’t have been here, but I’ve not had so many friends in my life that I can just shrug him off.”

“I know what you mean.” She wanted to put a hand on his arm or run her fingers through his hair. That longing became a spike in her chest, but she didn’t act on it. “I feel like I let him down.”

“Me too,” he whispered.

Before she could respond, Jael whirled in response to the RC-17 unit’s beeping wildly. “Organics detected. Unauthorized personnel.”

“Boxes down,” Dred ordered. “Looks like we get to fight.”

Martine dropped her burden and popped her neck on each side. “And to think I was afraid this would be boring.”

“Since when?” Jael asked. “There’s always the threat of imminent violence. That’s why we vacation here.”