With the other male lending his expertise, he tracked Vost. The walls were dirtier than usual here; they were encrusted with grime after turns of neglect. Tam knew all of the best places to hide on the station. He was an expert at scouting out hidey-holes and secret spots that offered shelter in an emergency. Currently, there were four that even Martine didn’t know about.
And Vost found one.
With injuries like Vost had sustained, the merc couldn’t go far. He must be in dire straits, especially since he’d harmed enough of Mungo’s and Silence’s people that they would be hunting him as well. It had to gall the mercenary commander to realize that his life might end in such a way. Men like him expected good and honorable deaths, not to be whittled down by convicts or to starve like rodents in a rotten wall.
“What do you plan to do with our enemy, once we find him?”
But that question would never be answered. Blood burbled from Katur’s mouth, and when his body fell, it revealed the Speaker’s crouched form. His blade was stained red and his eyes were bright with malice. He wasn’t a large man, but he was tall, giving him better reach, though Tam had fought better men and lived. He didn’t waste breath with accusations, and he tried to strangle the throb of rage deep inside him. A cool head prevailed in a fight. Yet he was already imagining the conversation with Keelah, a distraction he could ill afford.
“This has been a long time coming,” the Speaker said with icy calm. “I fight for the Handmaiden. You spy for your queen.” Tam didn’t realize he’d reacted until the Speaker went on, “We know that you watch us from the shadows. But it didn’t save your friend.”
This is where I’m supposed to be baited into a poorly considered lunge.
Instead, he circled, observing the way the Speaker moved. There was a reason why this man had risen through the ranks to speak for Silence instead of dying in her infernal web like the rest of her victims. The Speaker moved with serpentine speed, but his eyes flicked just before he struck. Tam banked everything on his reflexes and spun to the side just as the knife would’ve skewered him through the heart. The forward momentum pulled the Speaker off-balance, and Tam took full advantage. He came in with a strike from behind, just as the bastard had done to Katur. His blade struck true, a clean kidney shot. The assassin actually looked surprised as he fell, right next to the alien he had murdered.
The Speaker’s chest rose and fell for a few seconds. Tam expected a moment of truth or clarity, but instead of smiling as some people did in death, the man’s features tightened into pure horror, as if what he glimpsed waiting for him was terrible beyond belief. If there’s any justice, that’s true.
“Mary curse it.” Tam clenched a fist, watching as the Speaker died.
The trail to Vost was cold now. And he had to return to carry the grim news.
LOST him.
It was a stroke of luck that the two trackers had been attacked. Without that break, Vost didn’t think he would’ve escaped. His wounds throbbed, making each breath more difficult than the last. Nausea rose in the form of bile, but he held it together until he made it to where he and his two surviving men had been holing up. Vost was also well aware that he wouldn’t have made it back without Redmond and Duran supporting him on either side.
“She’s tough as hell,” Redmond said conversationally.
Duran grunted in acknowledgment. “I didn’t expect her to last as long as she did. But I really don’t understand why we didn’t just kill them all.”
“Because we might need them down the line. When our clips run out, things will look a lot worse then. We’ll be better off if we can make allies out of the least crazy ones.” It went without saying that he couldn’t consider teaming up with cannibals or the death-heads. Sometimes the choice came down to the lesser of all evils.
And that’s the one they call the Dread Queen.
This was more of a rats’ nest than a command post, but the space was too small for the enemy to lay traps. It would also limit the firepower they could bring to bear in here. They had little gear left anyway; the convicts had been stealing and breaking in since their unit arrived on station. That was more initiative than the suit had said they would possess. Vost choked a laugh at the memory of that interview; it seemed so long ago now.
As they settled, Redmond powered up the medibot, one of the few resources that remained to them. The thing went to work on his injuries, but the pain sent a raw shudder through him. He closed his eyes, weary to his soul.
“Well, damn,” Duran muttered. “So what’s our next move?”
He was lucky they weren’t ready to kill him in his sleep. Any two other men in the unit would’ve refused to follow his lead once the rest of the squad got blown to shit. Through their own stupidity.
Reluctantly, Vost admitted, “The situation is this: We’ve whittled down their numbers, but the loss of the transport hurt us. As of now, we have no chance of completing the original assignment. Which means the rules have to change.”
“Level with me. Are we dying in here?”
“Not if we’re smart. And careful.”
“You’ve been both so far, but we’re still in this fucking mess,” Duran muttered.
Vost wished the man didn’t have a point, but he’d done everything he could to succeed in this hellish place. The usual tactics had failed. And it would require all of his ingenuity to get out alive, now that he’d accepted the original mission parameters were impossible, regardless of the payday.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I wish I could report better odds.”
Duran shrugged. “Hell, if we’d turned and gone with Casto, we’d be in chunks. At least with you, we’re still breathing.”
Redmond nodded. “This job rang all my alarm bells, but I took it anyway. I should’ve known better.”
“Me too,” Vost admitted.
“Greed got the better of us. Move on.” Duran looked like he wanted to pace, but the crazy, silent woman had trained killers crawling all over the station in search of them.
“I have a plan,” he told his men. “From what I’ve seen, the reason these Queenslanders have lasted this long is because their leadership isn’t psychotic. And she proved it when she was willing to fight to save two of her own.”
“That’s true,” Redmond said.
“I know what the Conglomerate told us. But the only way we get out of this alive, going forward, is cooperation.”
Despite the fact that the Dread Queen had covered their retreat to satisfy the terms of their bargain, his men seemed less than delighted with the plan. Too fragging bad.
“So what do you want us to do?” Duran asked.
“I need a few days to heal up. If she takes my proposal badly, I need to be in better shape. Gather some supplies—”
Redmond cut in, “There’s a Kitchen-mate in one of the abandoned zones. We could make a run, produce some paste.”
It was good idea since paste didn’t require preparation or cooking facilities. None of them were thrilled at the prospect of eating it for three days straight, but it would keep them alive. “Get water, too. And be careful. There are still combat zones all over the station. I don’t want my claim to fame to be that I got every single one of my men killed.”
Redmond laughed wryly. “Trust me, we’re not eager for that either.”
“Can you give us any intel?” Duran asked.
Vost ran down all of the info he had as to where the pockets of aggression were highest. He concluded, “If you stick to the perimeter, you shouldn’t have too much trouble though those silent freaks are stealthy. Keep an eye on your six.”