“I’m on Persephone still,” he said. “I have news. Nothing directly pertinent to Mal himself, but news that’s nonetheless encouraging.”
He filled Wash in on all he had learned from Wong about Elmira and Covington.
“That’s good to hear,” Wash said. “I can’t escape the feeling that we’re running short on time, though.”
“Me either. How are things with you? Payload all safe?”
“Yeah, we’ve been making good headway. At least, we were, only now we’re being overhauled by an Alliance patrol cruiser, the I.A.V. Stormfront.”
“Not good.”
“Definitely not. If it wasn’t for bad luck, we wouldn’t have any luck. They’re hailing us and I’ve been stalling them with the old communications interference trick. You know, ‘Oopsies, can’t skzzzz make out frzzzt trying skrrrtch say.’ That won’t hold them for long, and just makes them more irate anyway.”
“Are they after certain crewmembers?”
“Don’t know, but we can’t assume they’re not, so we’ve taken appropriate action. I’m not going to say too much just in case Stormfront’s listening in. This channel’s as secure as I can make it, but you never know. All I’ll say is we’ve relieved ourselves of excess personnel for now and we’re down to a shipboard complement of just four. Oh hey, Mrs. Washburne wants a word.”
Zoë came on the line. “Shepherd? I caught what you told Wash. What are your plans?”
“Seems like I can’t expect you to return to Persephone in order to assist me, not under current circumstances.”
“No. If we were to make a run for it, the patrol cruiser would open up on us for sure, and we’d be just so much floating debris. Do you think you could go it alone?”
“I could,” Book said with a trace of hesitancy. “I wouldn’t like to, though. I have no idea what kind of reception I might receive. I anticipate that Covington would not leave Elmira unguarded or his property undefended. One man could, I suppose, infiltrate the premises fairly successfully, if he had the right skills, but it’d be better if there were more of us, in case of unforeseen problems.”
“What if you had reinforcements? I’m thinking we could kill two birds with one stone here.”
“Tell me more.”
“I’ll contact Inara on her shuttle first, bring her up to speed, then patch you through to her and you can take it from there. Wait one.”
There was comms silence for two or three minutes. Book drummed his fingers agitatedly on the thin vinyl padding of the rickshaw seat. Patience was one of his strong suits, but even so, he had the unavoidable sense that every minute of delay was a minute Mal got further away and less easy to rescue. The fact that an Alliance patrol cruiser was even now bearing down on Serenity was yet another blow to his inner calm. Sometimes life seemed like just one setback after another.
“Shepherd Book,” said Inara.
“Go ahead, Inara.”
“As you know, I have the Tams on board.”
“Shouldn’t we be somewhat more circumspect in this conversation?”
“A Companion’s shuttle has special multiphase communications enciphering programs that are impenetrable to practically every known decryption software. It enables me to conduct my business with absolute guaranteed discretion, a boon to my clientele.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I’d be surprised if a man of your calling did,” Inara said. “Our status is this. We’ve managed to pull away from Serenity without Stormfront detecting us. I know that because it hasn’t rerouted. It’s still on an intercept course with Serenity, less than ten minutes away from docking distance. We started out by staying in Serenity’s shadow. Then, as chance would have it, we passed an asteroid field. We’ve diverted towards the edge of the field and are laying low here. The asteroids are providing enough scanner disruption that Stormfront’s instruments are unlikely to spot us. It should pass us right by.”
“Serenity’s the bigger target anyway.”
“And the bigger prize. They’re likely to be focusing on her to the exclusion of all else. What this means is that, assuming our luck holds and we remain undetected, we’ll be out of range of Stormfront’s scopes in about a half-hour.”
“And you could then head down to Persephone.”
“Correct.”
“At full burn, that’d get you here by”—Book glanced at his watch, then performed a swift mental calculation—“oh-six-hundred hours local time.”
“I know we’re not the true cavalry,” Inara said. “I know you’d be better off with Zoë and Jayne backing you up. But, in a pinch, we’ll have to do.”
Book had to admit to himself that he would have preferred it if the former Browncoat corporal and the gruff mercenary were joining him on the raid on Covington’s house, rather than a Companion, a doctor and whatever River was. A very damaged girl? A human timebomb? An escaped lab rat? All of these and more.
Yes, he was looking at having three civilians backing him up when there was every likelihood he would need the two crewmembers with the most combat experience. On balance, that did not seem like a winning prospect. Instead of Serenity’s big guns, he was making do with firecrackers.
Book knew, however, that God provided. It might not always seem as though He did. Indeed, to the untrained eye it sometimes looked as though the Lord’s methods were just plain berserk. But in the end, all said and done, He always came through. It was a cornerstone of Book’s belief, the rock he had rebuilt his life upon.
“You three will be more than enough,” he told Inara. “I’m certain of it.”
And he was.
Almost.
23
The main vid screen flickered, an Alliance logo appeared, and a faceless, nameless baritone voice told Serenity to prepare for immediate docking and boarding of an authorized government inspection crew.
Zoë could see Wash was not pleased at the prospect, but when he pushed his comm button to reply he sounded downright bubbly. “Great to see you guys. Sorry about all the trouble with transmissions earlier. We got circuits so old and cranky on this boat, they keep telling me to get off their lawn and turn my music down. But you’re here now, and that’s just super. Protecting our way of life. Go, Alliance!”
Serenity shuddered as the larger ship made contact. Once the airlocks had been lined up, the seals were secured.
Wash turned to his wife. “Okay, Zoë, it’s your play. What do you have in mind?”
“Question. How sexy am I?”
Wash blinked. His eyes darted around apprehensively. “Is this a trick?”
“Just answer. Scale of one to ten, how sexy am I?”
“Twenty. Easy. Except when you’re mad at someone. Then it’s a fifteen. Mad at me, a twelve. But mostly twenty.”
She leaned over and kissed him, a full-on smacker that, as soon as he had got over his bafflement, he reciprocated.
“Whoa,” he said. “What was that all about?”
“A woman doesn’t always need a reason to kiss her man.” Zoë then undid a couple of buttons on her shirt and opened it out to expose more cleavage than normal.
“You’re going to… seduce the feds?” Wash said.
“Not seduce, and not all of them. Just the senior officer. Bamboozle him. Throw him off his game if I can. Get him to drop his guard. That’s assuming he’s male and straight, which given the Alliance’s gender equality policy is a fair assumption.”