"Yes, I know," Jack said, gently pushing the papers back toward him. "Actually, Sidj Varn just asked me to stop by and make sure the ships were here and ready to go. Another group will be coming by later to actually take possession."
"You will save them valuable time if you complete the forms now," the Compfrin suggested, pushing the forms back again.
Compfrins weren't nosy, Jack reflected, but they could definitely be pushy. "The other group will do that," Jack said firmly, trying to imagine Neverlin's reaction to the news that someone had stopped by his secret-weapons stash and done his paperwork for him. "And I really must go."
He left the office before the manager could protest further. So we know now that Frost's men haven't already retrieved them, Draycos's thought whispered into Jack's mind.
Getting in ahead of the opposition is always a good start, Jack agreed, looking around. The spaceport had a dozen somewhat dilapidated hangars of various sizes scattered across the grounds, including the one where he'd parked the Essenay. Filling the space between the hangars were a variety of other vehicles. Most of them were light personal aircraft, anchored to the ground by thin wires to protect them against gusts of wind.
Should be that one over there, Jack said, nodding toward the westernmost of the hangars as he got into one of the rental carts lined up outside the office. He dropped some coins into the slot and got a grip on the steering lever. Let's go see what kind of bargain Neverlin got.
They had passed the last line of tethered aircraft between them and the hangar when the comm clip on Jack's collar suddenly came to life. "Jack lad, I'm picking up a shuttle with Brummgan markings, coming in from the west," Uncle Virge said tightly. "Could be Frost's pilots."
Jack shot a look over his shoulder at the sky. "How close?"
"Close enough," Uncle Virge said grimly. "You need to get under cover, right now."
Jack looked around. Problem was, there was no cover, at least nothing he could get to quickly.
But there was something he could use as camouflage. "Right," he said, shifting direction toward a group of airplanes about fifty yards from the east side of Neverlin's hangar. "Any idea how many Brummgas are aboard the shuttle?"
"My infrareds can't pick out individual bodies through that kind of hull," Uncle Virge said. "But if we assume twelve pilots plus the shuttle's own crew, the overall IR sum would say they're all human, not Brummgan."
Jack felt his throat tighten. He'd assumed Frost's buddies would be busy stealing Malison Ring ships, and that Neverlin would assign this particular duty to his tame Brummgas. None of that bunch was particularly clever, and most of them had probably never actually seen Jack.
But many of Frost's mercenaries had. Way too many of them.
So much for his chances of running some sort of scam on them.
What's our plan? Draycos asked.
Jack looked over his shoulder again. The fiery glow of the incoming shuttle's drive could now be seen against the cloud-speckled blue of the sky. There's no time to get to real cover, he told the K'da. So we're going to go with the classic technique of hiding in plain sight.
The shuttle was on its final approach as Jack pulled up to the group of aircraft and stopped. "Uncle Virge, I've got a Lightsparrow-66 here," he said, glancing at the nearest airplane's markings as he got out. "I need the location of any outside equipment bays."
"Right. Give me a minute."
Making sure to keep his face away from the incoming shuttle, Jack stepped around to the back of his cart and opened the storage compartment. It was mostly empty, but in one corner he spotted a forgotten screwdriver and a socket wrench. "Uncle Virge?" he prompted, scooping them up.
"Both wing engine pods have access ports on their inboard sides," Uncle Virge reported. "Three bolts along the top, then swing down the panel."
Jack looked at the nearest engine pod, spotted the three bolts. "Got it," he said, turning to it and setting to work with his borrowed screwdriver. He was facing the hangar now, which would be a little risky when Frost's men started piling out. On the other hand, once Jack got the panel open, it should block his face from anyone who looked in this direction.
Sure enough, as the last bolt came loose the panel swung down just low enough to hide everything above his chin. Draycos? he called silently. Can you see anything?
The K'da moved across his skin, sliding down to where he could look through the neck of Jack's shirt. They're landing near the hangar, he reported. The shuttle's stern is turned toward the door.
With its weapons turned outward, ready to shoot at possible trouble. Frost's men weren't taking any chances. Are they all staying at that end of the building?
No—two of them are heading this way.
Jack winced, moving his elbows briskly and visibly as he pretended to work on the plane's engine. If the mercenaries were suspicious enough to come over here and check him out . . .
Wait, Draycos said, and Jack could sense the relief in his voice. They're turning to go around the side of the building. They're just checking the hangar's exterior.
Jack breathed a quiet sigh of relief. At least he and Draycos weren't going to have to fight.
But that brought up a whole different problem. If the mercenaries were suspicious enough to check out even the solid parts of the hangar's exterior, they weren't likely to leave either of the two doors unguarded. Have they finished their sweep yet?
Almost, Draycos answered. They're moving around the corner—one last look on this side . . . there. They're gone.
Did they seem interested in me?
One of them looked in this direction, but there was no indication he was suspicious, Draycos answered. All is clear. We can get moving.
Moving to where? Jack countered. They're bound to be watching the doors at both ends.
Across the distance came a soft, low rumble. "Uncle Virge?" Jack asked. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It's multiple engine prep," Uncle Virge confirmed. "Looks like they're in something of a hurry."
"The manager's going to be furious if they don't fill out his paperwork," Jack said, trying hard to come up with something. So much for his original idea of hitching a ride. That left only Alison's plan of wrecking the ships and keeping Neverlin from getting them. If Jack got the Essenay moving right away—and if they were extraordinarily lucky—they might be able to take out all twelve ships before the mercenaries got their own weapons on line.
At which point, there would be only one other chance for him and Draycos to find Neverlin's attack force. They would have to get to Driftline before Frost finished stealing those Malison Ring ships, and figure out how to hitch a ride from there.
And if they failed there as well, Alison and Taneem would be on their own. Completely and utterly on their own.
Go to the side wall directly across from us, Draycos instructed, an edge of determination in his tone. Perhaps he was thinking about Alison and Taneem, too. They won't be watching for an intrusion there.
Of course they won't, Jack said, suddenly understanding what Draycos had in mind. Ducking under the engine pod panel, confirming for himself that the mercenaries were out of sight, he headed toward the hangar at a brisk jog.