Chapter Thirty-One
“You know,” Rose said, “we should have a lockdown more often.”
Kurt snorted. The moment they’d heard the alarms, they’d jumped into Kurt’s office before the hatch sealed, trapping them in the compartment. Alone, they hadn’t wasted time; they’d stripped, made love and then dressed again before the alert could come to an end. It was in direct breach of the Admiral’s orders, but after so long he found it hard to care.
“I think we probably shouldn’t,” he said. There had been no call for starfighter pilots since they’d entered orbit, but he’d kept his crews on alert anyway. Who knew when the shit would hit the fan? “What happens if we come under attack now?”
Rose shrugged. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
“No,” Kurt answered. But the sinking feeling in his chest suggested one possible answer, no matter how much he tried to avoid it. The Russians were finally making their move. “It could be anything…”
The hatch, which had been locked, hissed open. Kurt started, half-expecting to see Marines and a pissed-off Admiral, then stared as he saw two men wearing ill-fitting uniforms. One of them was pointing a gun at him; the other was carrying a large roll of duct tape. He stared, then climbed to his feet as one of the intruders motioned with the gun.
“Get over against the wall,” he ordered, in a thinly-accented voice. “Girl; lie down on the ground, face down. Put your hands behind your back.”
Kurt glared at him, but saw no alternative. As soon as he was away from Rose, the man with the duct tape knelt down and used the tape to tie her hands behind her. Moments later, he’d wrapped her ankles together, then used a final piece of tape to cover her mouth. Her angry eyes glared daggers at the man as he searched her, removed anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, then rolled her into the corner. She was so tightly wrapped she could barely move.
“You’re going to come with us,” the leader said. He met Kurt’s eyes. “And if you don’t cooperate, we’ll be forced to hurt your girlfriend.”
The blackmailers, Kurt thought, numbly. He offered no resistance as he was searched, then his hands bound behind his back with tape. One of the blackmailers pointed him towards the hatch, the other dropped a black object next to Rose and then checked the remainder of the office before following Kurt and his captor out into the corridor. Kurt wanted to ask what the object had been, but neither of the men looked communicative. He barely had a chance to throw Rose a helpless look before the hatch hissed closed, blocking his view of her angry face. She hated being helpless more than anything else.
I’m sorry, he thought.
Outside, there was a body lying on the deck. Kurt barely had time to realise that it had been stunned before the blackmailers pushed him down the corridor, heading for the starfighter launch bay. During lockdown, Kurt knew, it would be almost deserted apart from the starfighter pilots in the launch tubes. They wouldn’t be able to leave until the alert came to an end.
He braced himself, then opened his mouth. “What… what are you doing?”
“We’re getting off this ship,” one of the men said. The other one merely grunted, then elbowed Kurt in the back, hard. “And you’re going to help us launch a starfighter.”
Kurt stared at him. “Are you mad?”
“You can open the emergency hatch,” the man said. “And you will. Or your girlfriend will die and your reputation will be ruined.”
“You’re not with her,” Kurt said. “I…”
The man produced a small terminal. “We left a bomb next to her,” he said, darkly. “One push of this button” — he pointed — “will detonate it and she will die. I suggest you behave yourself and the two of you will come out alive.”
Kurt thought desperately as they stepped into the launch bay. They had to be mad… unless they really did intend to blow the emergency hatches. But opening them would require the Captain’s override codes and he doubted the blackmailers had them. And even if they did succeed, where would they go? The aliens were the only other force in the system. Had they been working for the aliens all along? Or had a stealthed warship followed them all the way from the solar system? It didn’t seem likely.
“There’s nowhere to go,” he pleaded. “You could surrender now and you’d live…”
“Be quiet,” the leader ordered. “Ah. Four empty Spitfires.”
Kurt followed his gaze. There were eight Spitfires in the launch tubes now, with pilots utterly aware of what was happening behind them. He wanted to do something, anything, but what could he do? There was nothing… he had no weapon, his hands were bound and they were trapped. All he could do was wait and pray the Marines arrived in time to save the day.
“Go to the switchboard,” the leader ordered. He removed something small and dark from his palm and passed it to his companion. “Open the emergency hatch.”
Kurt stared, just before the second blackmailer grabbed his ear and yanked him towards the switchboard. It wasn’t meant to be used at all, nothing more than a relic of the Old Lady’s early days, when they’d worried about the ship’s datanet being so badly damaged that starfighters would have to be launched and recovered manually. They couldn’t even use it without the Captain’s overrides. But the blackmailers didn’t seem to notice — or care. The leader climbed into the nearest Spitfire and started the engines.
“Do not do anything stupid,” the second blackmailer said, as he cut Kurt’s hands free, then pressed his palm against the sensor. The console unlocked. “Open the emergency hatch.”
“As you wish,” Kurt said. How had they managed to unlock the console? How had they managed to get the Captain’s overrides? It was vaguely possible they had something that could be used to access Russian-designed computer cores, but the system in front of him was British. Outdated, sure, but still secure. “If that’s what you want.”
He noted the position of the breath mask, then pushed hard down on the emergency hatch system. The blackmailers hadn’t realised, he saw, that the entire compartment would vent into space the moment the emergency hatches blew free. He grabbed for a mask a second later, then hung on for dear life as the atmosphere vented into open space. The second blackmailer grabbed for him, but Kurt kicked him in the face and watched him plummet helplessly out into space. He pressed the mask against his face, feeling it seal to his skin, then took a deep breath as the last of the atmosphere vanished. And then he turned, just in time to see the stolen starfighter vanish through the hatch.
Damn it, he thought, as gravity reasserted itself, His exposed skin started to hurt as the cold of space seeped in. What now?
Desperately, he ran over to the nearest starfighter and scrambled into the cockpit. There was a very welcome hiss as atmosphere flooded into the craft, allowing him to tear off the mask and reach for the communications system. God alone knew what had happened, but he needed to report back to the Marines and ask for instructions. He couldn’t help a surge of brutally-powerful guilt. Was all this the result of his dalliance with Rose?
He keyed the system, searching for a channel. But it was nearly five minutes before his call was patched through to the CIC — and then to the Admiral.
“Admiral,” he said. “The blackmailer took one of the starfighters.”
“Shit,” the Admiral said. There was a pause. “Can you get after him?”
“Yes,” Kurt said. He brought the starfighter’s drives and weapons up to full readiness. “But why…?”
The Admiral laughed, bitterly. “There’s a bioweapon on that ship, Commander,” he said, shortly. “They have to be stopped before it can be deployed.”