Chapter 38
Once alone, Krispin gave him a hard stare, then took Mace by the shoulders and into a fierce bear hug, slapping him on the back.
“It is good to see you, son.”
Mace returned the gesture, throat tight. After everything that had happened, the truly affectionate embrace almost did him in.
One more slap on the back and Krispin pulled away, scowling at Mace from arm’s length. “Now, tell me the truth of it. How long have you known you were leading this offensive?” Krispin let his arms drop.
There was no reason to lie. “When Cache announced it at the table, sir.”
The Admiral’s eyebrows rose. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?”
“I wasn’t able to make the rendezvous.”
Something in his tone tipped off the Admiral. “What’s happened?”
He cleared his throat. “Lexi’s been taken into CORE custody.”
Krispin swore, hitting the holotable with his fist. The image of Orion disappeared. “How long?”
“Since yesterday.” He clenched his fists, his thoughts going to Justice in the brig. Mace owed him a slow, agonizing death. The man’s screams would fuel him throughout his upcoming mission.
“There’s still time then,” Krispin said. “I’ll contact my people, see where she’s being held.” The Admiral’s eyes bored into his. “We’ll get her back.”
“I know.” The thoughts of what could happen in the meantime were what tortured him.
With a nod, Krispin turned to go, but Mace stopped him by saying, “Sir?”
His superior turned around with his eyebrows raised.
Mace ran a hand through his hair, positive he shouldn’t be even asking this question. “Is there a way a captive could be protected if it were found out they were from the ruling class?”
Tipping his head to the side, Krispin narrowed his eyes. “Context?”
Mace let loose a frustrated breath. The more he talked about Nia’s circumstance, the more danger she would be in. But he trusted Krispin with his life. More than that, he trusted him with the lives of the people he cared about.
“Does a ruling class captive always have to get sent back to the CORE in pieces?” Saying it aloud made his stomach churn with acid.
Krispin crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d heard you’d taken a captive and didn’t believe it, told the person they were a dirty fucking liar, actually. Are you telling me she’s part of the ruling class?”
Mace clenched his fists. “She’s no longer with us, sir.”
“Ah,” he said, like it explained everything when it really didn’t. “This is a theoretical question, then?”
“Yes.”
“Theoretically, yes.” Those two words lightened the oppressive load on Mace’s shoulders. Krispin went on. “Violence against the ruling class is a more recent development, relatively speaking. It wasn’t until Chancellor Feering’s rule, when he started making public executions, we wanted to return the favor. But I do remember a time when CORE citizens could ask for amnesty, choosing to join Tellusians in our fight to regain the resources taken from us. I do believe the law can still be invoked, even for the ruling class, especially if someone influential were to sponsor the individual.”
Mace’s mind raced. He could have given Nia the choice to stay. He almost wanted to return to her right now and tell her. But since the beginning, she’d said she wanted to go home. He couldn’t take that away from her, no matter his feelings.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the information.”
“If you study the old laws, it should be there.” Krispin straightened. “It’s too bad your ward is no longer with us. I would’ve liked to meet the woman you couldn’t leave behind.” With another nod, he left.
Mace stared at the closed door for a good long while, thinking. Would it have been possible to protect her properly from the start? The processor should have told him. They were the ones most well-versed in the old laws—but of course he hadn’t. He’d wanted the creds Mace could give him instead.
With a sound of disgust, Mace strode toward the door. He had someone to visit in the brig.
Grey was waiting for him. They fell into step as Mace headed toward the lift. “You don’t need to hold my hand,” he said as he slapped the control panel.
“I was ordered by Cache to make sure you don’t kill him.”
“A direct order?” The lift door slid open, and they both stepped on. He touched the control for the brig.
“Yeah,” Grey said, facing the door. “Apparently someone from the top is taking an interest. Not Krispin, though.”
His instincts tingled. Who would be interested in whether Justice was kept alive? Grey’s eyebrow arched like he was wondering the same thing.
The need to kill Justice for what he’d done to Lexi burned through him like a supernova. But there was also Grey to think about. If he’d been given a direct order, then there would be repercussions for him as well.
As much as it pained him to say, Mace gritted, “I’ll just talk to him.” But there was only thing he needed to “talk” about—he needed the name of the ship or station where Lexi was taken.
“Of course,” Grey replied, his voice mild. “I wouldn’t have thought any different.”
The lift door opened into a dimly lit corridor smelling of death. It wasn’t the same scent as in a med bay, but one laced with desperation and fear.
They stopped at the take-in desk manned by one enforcer. “Which cell for the CORE agent who was picked up?”
“Interrogation room six,” she said. “But Commander Foley’s already in with him, sir,”
Mace clenched his fists. “Under whose orders?”
“His own, sir.”
Passing her by to stride through the corridor, Mace didn’t bother with the observation room, but scanned his hand and opened the main door.
Shirtless and bloody, Justice sat with his wrists bound to the table in front of him, his feet secured to the deck. Foley leaned over him, a hooked instrument pressed next to Justice’s eye.
Blood coated the tools on the cart beside the table. Lines were carved into Justice’s body He had two black eyes, and blood ran from his mouth to run though his goatee and mix with his saliva before dropping to the table.
“Foley,” Mace growled. “Out.”
Foley hesitated before straightening. Shrugging, he tossed the instrument on the metal tray next to the interrogation table. The rest of the surgical tools clattered together.
They both stepped into the corridor, the door closing to block Mace’s view of Justice.
“I thought you’d have an interest in this one,” Foley said, his knowing tone grating against Mace’s nerves.
“I’m taking over.” Not wanting to hear Foley speak again, Mace scanned his hand and re-entered the cell, knowing Grey would wait on the other side of the window.
Justice lifted his head, saw him, and spat a gob of blood to the side. “You come to relieve that coward? Piece of Tell shit hits like he’s flirting.” Another gob of blood flew to the deck.
Even with Justice’s damaged state, Mace only had to envision Lexi’s face to want to do worse to him. And he should have realized the moment he stepped foot on Lexi’s outpost that Justice was an agent. It was his eyes. Too steady, too trained, they took in everything without trying to. And right now, Justice’s eyes urged him to kill him and get it over with.
Mace paced in front of the table. He would return him to Foley’s tender care before allowing Justice the easy way out.
“Where are they taking Lexi?” If he had a starting point, it would make it so much easier to track her. It had to be a prison station somewhere, but there were so many, and each person was stripped of their name when they arrived, given only a number.
“You’re not very good at this shit, are you?” Justice said, his voice too calm. “You’ve told me what you want in the first five seconds. Now I won’t give it to you until I get what I want. The other guy might be a pussy, but you’re an amateur.” His Lunar accent was probably real too, unlike Lexi”s learned one.
Mace didn’t care about his mind games, only wanted some clue as to Lexi’s position. “Where are they taking her?” he gritted between his teeth.
“I’ve been wondering,” Justice said in a lazy tone, one at odds with the blood streaking from his body. “Do you know who your girlfriend is, and you’re protecting her? Or are you as stupid as you look?”
Mace stiffened, his heart rate kicking inside his chest. As an agent, Justice would be required to know everything related to CORE politics. He would have recognized Nia. But had the fucker told Foley about her ruling-class heritage before Mace arrived?
And Mace had brought her here, where she could be harmed, and left her on her own.
Justice’s bruised lips broke into a wide smile. “You Tells are so easy to read, so emotional. You’ve been protecting her, and now you’re wondering if I told the other guy.” He turned his head to the observation window. “Maybe he’s out there listening right now.
No one knew Nia was here. She was safe. And Mace wouldn’t allow him to lead this conversation. “Where are they taking Lexi?”
“What would he do to your girlfriend? I know you Tells like to flaunt your savage reputation as much as possible, scare the masses with your might and all that. What would he do before sending her home broken? Beat her? Mind fuck her until she doesn’t remember her own name? String her to a bulkhead and remove her skin a centimeter at a time?”
Rage threatened to consume him at the suggestions, but Mace couldn’t allow the agent to fuck with him. Nia was safe. She was going home on a transport today, in under an hour. Betel’s contacts were solid. He would not lose focus to this man’s head games. “Where are they taking Lexi?” he repeated.
“Lexi who? I don’t know a Lexi.” Justice’s voice came out lifeless, like it was computerized. Then his smile flashed again, his eyes glancing at the tray of tools next to him. “You Tells aren’t nearly as creative as CORE specialists. During training, they practice on us agents. It’s a great time, I can assure you.”
Pressure squeezed Mace’s chest. A fanatical light entered the agent’s eyes. Justice wouldn’t break. Mace had seen the expression too many times. There wasn’t enough fear there to work with. Justice knew he wasn’t getting free, and truly wanted to die right here and now.
He wouldn’t confess Lexi’s location no matter how much Mace asked, and no matter how many cuts Foley gave him.
Desperation made him brace his hands against the table, lean forward, and say, “If you have even an ounce of affection for my sister, you’ll tell me where they’re taking her.”
Justice grinned and leaned forward. “Affection? Yeah, she was a good fuck.”
Jaw clenching, hands fisting, Mace closed his eyes and tried to tamp his anger. But all he saw was Lexi’s bruised face behind his eyelids.
“Do you know how often she begged me to put my dick in her?”
He could not appeal to Justice’s humane side because he didn’t have one.
“Tell slut couldn’t keep her legs together for anything. Rank whore.”
Mace pushed away from the table in an effort not to take one of those tools and stab him through the ear canal.
But Justice wouldn’t shut up. “She would always scream, ‘Harder! Harder!’”
Mace closed his eyes. He knew the man was manipulating him but couldn’t stop the rage. The door opened, and his eyes popped open to find Grey standing there, his expression full of warning. It barely made an impression.
He needed to leave. Grey could finish. He’d handle it properly.
Then Justice’s next words made him stop cold.
“I was assured by the arresting general that every defender on board the Guardian would make it as hard as possible.”
On a roar, Mace vaulted over the table, took the agent’s head in his hands, and twisted. The pop and crack ricocheted off the bulkheads. In the resulting silence, Mace’s ragged breathing echoed off the bulkheads.
He let go, and the body slumped forward, leaving a trail of blood down his arm. Chest heaving, hands clenched by his sides, he stared unseeingly at the bulkhead. Visions of Lexi, of the horrors Justice had painted with words, flashed in his brain. He couldn’t stop it.
“We’ve been summoned,” Grey said from behind him, cutting the quiet. “Walk it off. I’ll take care of this and make the necessary reports.”
Mace spun away from the body. This would be another mark against him, but he couldn’t conjure the proper remorse. He lifted his eyes and saw only understanding in Grey’s gaze.
A communique from Cache waited to be acknowledged on his vambrace. He’d been so involved with Justice, he hadn’t heard it.
Straightening his uniform, he stepped into the corridor, then tensed.
Foley stood against the bulkhead, arms crossed and a disgusted expression on his face. “You’ve got to be the shittiest enforcer in the sector.”
For once, Mace was glad of the insult. It meant he wasn’t a vindictive sociopath like Foley. And it also meant Foley hadn’t gone off to find Nia. Whether or not Justice told Foley about Nia’s lineage, the only people who knew she was on board were Spiro and Betel, and they’d stab themselves before betraying him. As long as Mace didn’t contact her, then she’d stay safe.
With an irreverent salute, Mace turned on his heel and strode toward the lift.
Nia would be gone from the ship soon, Foley none the wiser.