Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

KObrIK

S ix hours pass as investigators pour through every inch of the rubble from the grud's ship. I observe from a nearby rooftop as they sift through the debris, pick up every mechanical component, and handle the alien tech with extreme care.

Humans are not low intelligent beings. Their military can and will rebuild what technology they can, even though they forbid their population from acquiring, using, or handling alien technology for any purpose, including medical. Many of my fellow warriors question why the Galactic Alliance offered membership to them. I'm thankful they did, or I would never have found my heartmate. But I worry for her planet's future.

I worry for her.

Ah, movement at last. My target gathers his bag of newly acquired treasures, places it on a military truck, and heads away from the cordoned-off area on foot.

I rappel down the four-story building, landing on my feet in seconds. Then I break into a run to catch up to Parsons before he changes direction and loses me.

Within minutes, I find his trail. He's moving faster than I'd expect for a human, but he's in shape. Why not take a military vehicle or a bus? All my questions are answered when we arrive at his destination.

Kenzie's hospital.

I pour every last ounce of energy into intercepting. I will not risk him finding Kenzie.

The loud blare of a bus's horn causes me to jump out of its path. I look up intime to make eye contact with Parsons, a fraction of a second before he darts into the emergency room entrance.

When I burst through the door, humans all around stare at me. Those closest back away. A security guard approaches, his hand on a nightstick at his side.

"Don't," I warn, without reaching for my blaster. I won't shoot an innocent, even one who tries to stop me, especially in a crowded room. "I'm chasing a criminal. A man in a dark jacket and jeans. Did you see him?"

"He ran through a minute ago. Said he was looking for an alien. You, I presume."

"He's an enemy agent." And he's looking for my sholani.

Krike, by telling him and Collins that my witness is an E/R nurse I led him right to her. This is the only hospital with an E/R in a fifty-mile radius. A fact I didn't realize until I checked while on the rooftop. Parsons knew precisely where to find her.

I glance down at the open bays. Medical staff, a dozen males, stare at me. Kenzie's not here.

"Did he take a female with him?" I ask the guard. "A nurse."

Still leery of me, the guard doesn't move closer. "No women on duty when he came through." He points at a set of metal double doors.

I run through a maze of patients in chairs and medical personnel attending to them. There must have been a major accident considering the number of patients sitting on the floor, holding bloody heads and limbs.

As I turn a corner, I glimpse Parsons disappearing into the stairwell. The faint echo of boots striking the stairs precedes the click of a door above. He hasn't gone too high. One or two floors.

On the second floor, the door is ajar, enough to entice, but not fool me. The clever drekker is trying to mislead me. I continue climbing the stairs and enter the third floor. Biohazard and restricted access signs mark the doors in the empty corridor.

Parsons is here. I know it, though I don't hear or see anyone.

I draw two knives, one in each hand, as I stalk my prey.

The low hum of the dim lights above intensifies as they flicker, once, twice. Nothing will stop me from catching this male. Or killing him. Whatever proves necessary to keep him from harming Kenzie.

I hope she's safe in a far section of the hospital.

At the end of the corridor, beside a set of double doors, a sign reads, ‘authorized personnel only.' I slip inside. Four operating bays surround a central room with linens, sinks, and soiled garment bins. Inside two of the bays, humans wearing blue masks and gowns work on patients.

There's no sign of Parsons here. He must have gone to another floor. Do I pursue him or find Kenzie? I have a greater chance of finding Kenzie, and the idea of her being unprotected when Parsons could find her unnerves me.

As I exit the area, the medical staff from Bay 3 emerges and begins pulling off masks, gloves, and gowns.

"Whoever you are, you don't belong in here," one male scolds.

"I'm leaving." As I turn, I realize one of the males remains clothed in his medical gear. He's still wearing a gown and a mask but I recognize his eyes and the scar above his brow.

Parsons.

The second my eyes meet his, he races into the operating room and grabs a scalpel from a tray. "Try, Warrior. I'm not leaving here in cuffs."

That tiny knife can do damage, but not enough to incapacitate me. When he charges, I block and grab him by the wrist twisting until I feel the snap of several bones and hear the clink of the knife hitting the floor.

He wails in pain but doesn't stop fighting. With his remaining good arm, the drekker grabs one of my horns and we fall back into a tray of medical instruments which crashes to the floor. He's stronger than I expected.

One punch to his face sends him hurling into two operating lamps, knocking them over. He swings one of the lamps at me. I block with my forearm then capture his good arm and twist it behind him before shoving shove him into a wall.

"Enough. You're not escaping me," I growl. That's when the searing pain of a knife impaling my abdomen shoots through me. Stunned, I lose my grip on him as I stumble back. I realize my mistake when he rips the surgical gown off, revealing an extra set of arms.

Four arms. He's og'dal!

Two lower hands punch me in quick succession as the good upper arm slashes a knife at me.

Blood runs down my torso as I try to protect my vulnerable middle. I've made a critical error in not running a check on this male myself earlier. He's been hiding in plain sight this entire time using jackets and layers of clothing to conceal his lower set of arms, so he'd appear human.

I toy with the idea of reaching for my blaster, but I need him alive. He has information I need.

A knife slips into his fourth hand from an arm sheath, making me question if he's one of the mofa'ti, a highly skilled group of assassins and malcontents on Dal.

Before he raises his hand to throw the knife, I charge at him, risking his lower arms stabbing me. I spring into the air and catch him in the chest with my feet, protecting my upper body from his knives. One knife slices along my trou but doesn't cut deep. Another enters my thigh, but the force from my attack sends him crashing into the operating table.

Ignoring my wounds, I use my knife like a sword, slicing across his chest and lower arms with one downward arc. It's bloody and desperate, but effective.

Parsons drops two of the three knives. I kick the last knife from his grasp, flip him over, and lock my mag cuffs on his lower arms. I yank tubing from a nearby machine and tie his upper arms next.

"Name," I demand when I pull him into a sitting position. "Dalese name."

"Figure it out, zyanthan."

"Pray Galactic Intelligence doesn't execute you."

Parsons rests his head against the wall. His wounds aren't deep, but he's secured. Finally.

"I have friends who will arrange my release," he says with a smug expression.

"You should consider them enemies now. You broke the one rule of the mofa'ti. You got caught."

"You know nothing about me, Warrior."

I grab a nearby towel and press it against my abdominal wound. "You killed the grud to keep him from talking and protect your mission. Another mofa'ti will find you and do the same, og'dal, unless you cooperate and give me reason to transport you to Galactic Intelligence where you'll be safe, away from the other undercover og'dals here."

"You think mofa'ti are only on Earth, zyanthan? Then you're a fool."

I might well be. What he hints at, that there are agents of the mofa'ti among Galactic Intelligence, would explain much of the problems they've had. Such as the theft of blasters last year.

"You're not taking Parsons anywhere," Major Collins says behind me.

I swing around and see a gun pointed at me. Everything falls into place. The military's inability to find the grud ship, the major always trying to convince me to go east, away from the industrial park where I later found the ship, and his eagerness to make me leave Earth?—

His finger caresses the trigger on that gun.

My right hand holds the towel against my belly, close to my blaster.

"You're part of the Brotherhood," I say to keep Collins talking. I need a distraction. A mere second to draw and shoot him before he can shoot me.

"It's simple, Vardell. I have an interest in Parsons continuing his work."

"Which is what, precisely?"

Collins grins. "We're not going to play that game. Give me the name of the witness."

"Let me take her off Earth, and you won't have to worry about her."

"I'm not stupid, Warrior."

Neither am I. He won't allow either of us to live.

"Get me out of these cuffs," Parsons says.

The second Collins glances at the og'dal, I draw my blaster, shoot, and dive. I crash into a machine that doesn't move against my weight, slowing my fall.

I peer across the floor. Collins stares back at me with lifeless eyes and a hole the size of my fist in his chest.

It takes much of my fading energy, but I send an emergency message through my com to the embassy, noting my location and the capture of an enemy agent. With my thoughts on Kenzie, I type out a personal message for her, until I can no longer keep my eyes open.