Stealing Enslak

Prologue

Siemba,Leader of Asad Intelligence

Calpa didn't summon me.

Seven decades running Asad Intelligence, and I could count on one hand the times I'd set foot in the Alliance's gleaming capital. We worked in shadows. Outer reaches. The places civilized society pretended didn't exist while sleeping soundly because we were out there handling the mess.

So when the encrypted message arrived with the Alliance Prime's personal seal and a priority alpha designation, my first thought was, What catastrophe needs cleaning up now?

My second thought caught me off guard. Why am I nervous?

I knew why the Prime had summoned me. I just wasn't ready to face it yet.

The strategic briefing room was built to intimidate.

Black Caldorian stone walls absorbed sound and light.

A massive holographic display sat dark and dormant in the center, waiting to spring to life.

Floor-to-ceiling windows behind the conference table framed Calpa's capital, all elegant spires and carefully planned beauty, the kind of order that only existed when someone else did the dirty work to maintain it.

"Siemba."

The Alliance Prime's voice pulled me around.

She sat at the table's head, spine straight, shoulders tight.

Regal, yes, but exhausted underneath. Prime Consort Admiral Cullen Blackwood sat beside her, human and military, wearing that carefully neutral expression soldiers perfected when they were about to hear something they wouldn't like.

Duke Ako took the seat to her left, his massive frame making the chair look like children's furniture.

Next to him sat his son Nansar and the Duke's daughter-in-law Chloe, who was also Cullen's daughter and Nansar's mate.

I inclined my head. "Lady Prime. I came as quickly as I could."

"Thank you." Something flickered in her eyes, hope maybe, or desperation. "As I understand it, your operatives have located my son."

Enslak.

The name hung in the air like smoke. Youngest son of the Alliance Prime, lost over a century ago during the Vaktaire-Romvesian skirmish. Presumed dead. Most of us had accepted it as fact.

Three months ago, I wouldn't have been sitting here. Three months ago, Enslak was still a ghost, a name on a memorial wall, a wound that had scarred over even if it never quite healed.

Then Serna and Cullen were taken. General Riunodo Barkaze's attempt at reclaiming the Prime position he'd lost to her a century ago. Serna defeated him again, and as the bastard lay dying, he twisted the knife one last time.

He told Serna her youngest son still lived.

We dismissed it. Of course we did. The final cruelty of a sadistic man who'd built his empire on suffering, psychological torture delivered with his last breath.

But then lesser Romvesian King Jurtis got caught running a human slavery ring. His private files revealed that Barkaze hadn't been lying. Enslak was alive, and now we knew where.

My operatives confirmed it six weeks ago. They got close enough to capture biometric data. DNA match at ninety-nine point seven percent probability. It was him.

But finding him and extracting him were two entirely different problems.

The compound was a fortress. The Ulkommenian had invested a century into keeping their prize secure.

Every approach we'd modeled ended in failure.

Either we couldn't breach the defenses, or we'd trigger a kill switch that would eliminate Enslak before we reached him.

I'd run the scenarios forty-seven times, forty-seven different tactical approaches, and every single one had an unacceptable probability of failure.

That's why I hadn't told Serna yet. Not the full truth. Not that we'd found her son alive but couldn't figure out how to bring him home. That particular brand of hope felt crueler than Barkaze's dying words.

But she found out anyway. Of course she did. You didn't rule the Alliance without running your own intelligence networks.

So here I sat, about to deliver the news I'd been dreading. Yes, your son lives. No, I don't know how to save him.

"Planet Merisalle," I confirmed. "Outer reaches. My operative Binwee Jazarazant has been working the infiltration for two months."

Duke Ako leaned forward, making the chair creak. "Visual, please."

I activated the holographic display, and the image that materialized made my jaw tighten.

Merisalle, that festering wound of a planet notorious even by outer reaches standards for its criminal syndicates, flesh traders, and pit fights where sentient beings tore each other apart for the crowd's entertainment.

The hologram zoomed in on a fortified compound in the main city.

Red markers bloomed across the display, showing guard positions, security checkpoints, and sensor arrays.

At the center, isolated and heavily monitored, sat a single cell.

"The Ulkommenian are holding him here," I said, pulling up the intelligence reports my team had compiled and keeping my voice clinical and professional. "Tight security. They've been using him as a test subject for close to a century, experimentation, augmentation." I paused. "Torture."

The weight of that last word settled over the room like a physical thing. Serna's face had gone pale, and Cullen reached over to take her hand.

"Here's the primary complication." I highlighted the collar visible around another prisoner's neck in the surveillance footage.

"A qhoma collar, DNA-coded to his flesh.

If we attempt a frontal assault, the Ulkommenian will detonate it remotely before we breach the outer perimeter.

He'll be dead before our forces reach him.

" I let that sink in. "We have to remove the collar before any rescue attempt. "

"Then we don't go in guns blazing," Cullen said, his voice a low rumble. "We go in quiet."

"Precisely." I pulled up another image, a Negita with rodent features twisted in a perpetual sneer. "This is Zarlak, Enslak's caretaker, if you can call it that. He's the only one with regular access to the cell without guards present. Binwee has been observing his patterns for weeks."

"Your operative is inside?" Nansar asked.

"Undercover as a cook in the compound's kitchen.

The Framaddi are considered some of the best chefs in the universe.

" Pride surged through me. "And Binwee is one of my best. But even she can't get close enough to Enslak to remove the collar.

Zarlak is the only one allowed in that cell.

If we could find someone to take his place, we stand a chance of getting Enslak out alive. "

"Why not use a cuddwisg device?" Duke Ako's question came immediately. "I used one myself when I rescued Helene from Earth. Have your operative wear it, impersonate the Negita, get close enough to remove the collar."

I'd already considered that option. My operatives used the holographic disguise device often.

"Binwee is approximately three feet tall.

The Negita is over five feet. The cuddwisg only works properly when the wearer is roughly the same size as the person they're impersonating.

The holographic distortion is proportional to size difference, and with more than a fifteen percent variance, the device starts to fail.

Shadows lag, edges blur. The guards would notice immediately. "

Duke Ako frowned. "I wasn't aware the tolerances were so narrow. I used it to appear human." His lips twitched. Possibly a smile. "Granted, a big human."

"The technology works flawlessly within parameters," I said, gesturing at the schematic. "But Binwee attempting to project as someone nearly twice her height? The guards would spot the shimmer, a flicker, and that's all it takes to trigger an alarm in a high-security facility like this."

"Then use someone else," Cullen said. "Someone closer to the Negita's size."

"All my other available operatives are either too large or already deployed on critical missions. I don't have anyone who—"

"Use a human female."

The words came from Chloe.

I turned to stare at her as if she'd suggested we politely ask the Ulkommenians to release their prisoner and expect them to comply.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" She met my gaze without flinching. "Human females are roughly the same size as the Negita. The cuddwisg distortion would be minimal."

"Because humans are—" I caught myself before saying something diplomatically unfortunate. "Because they lack the training, the experience, the—"

"The courage?" Chloe's voice sharpened, her left eyebrow arching.

"The resourcefulness? I was a spy on Earth, Siemba, an FBI agent.

I infiltrated organizations that would have killed me without hesitation if they'd discovered who I was.

I extracted intelligence that saved lives.

" She leaned forward. "And I'm not unique among humans. "

My jaw clenched. "With all due respect—"

"There are dozens of human females in Alliance space right now who have specialized skills just like I do.

Former law enforcement. Military. Intelligence operatives.

The Prime's own daughter-in-law was Naval Intelligence.

" Her passion built. "Women who risked their lives in service of something greater than themselves.

And what are we offering them if they can't go back to Earth?

Farm work on Tau Ceti? Waiting tables at Space Pearls?

" She shook her head. "They want more. They deserve more.

You should consider allowing them to join Asad Intelligence. "

"This isn't about what they deserve. This is about capability." I struggled to keep my voice level. "This mission requires precision, technical expertise, the ability to stay calm under pressure when one wrong move means death—"

"Then I have just the person," Chloe interrupted.

"A New York City police detective. Recently rescued from the Trogvyk.

She was shot in the line of duty and had to go through the Garoot Healer, so she can't go back to Earth.

She's trained in investigation, close-quarters combat, hostage extraction.

" She paused. "And she's the right size. The cuddwisg will fit perfectly."

I looked to the Prime, expecting her to shut down this absurd suggestion.

Instead, she watched me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Siemba," her voice was quiet. "I lost my son a century ago. I thought him dead all this time. Now I learn he's been suffering, being tortured and experimented on." Her voice cracked slightly. "If there's even a chance this could work..."

The weight of her desperation pressed down on me like a physical thing.

"Human females are tougher than you think," Cullen added. "I've seen it firsthand. They're adaptable, determined, and they don't give up easily."

"Chloe's assessment is accurate," Nansar said. "Several human females aboard the Historia and Bardaga have proven themselves more than capable." A slight smile curved his lips. "Besides, I've heard your own human mate is quite a handful herself."

My jaw tightened.

Dixa. Of course they'd bring her up.

My mate wasn't involved in intelligence operations, but she was known to be brave, loyal, tenacious, a handful. I couldn't disagree with his assessment, much as I wanted to.

Nansar leaned forward, his expression turning serious.

"I should add that Chloe was instrumental in our escape from Palaydium.

Without her quick thinking and courage under fire, I'd be dead right now.

She proved herself when it mattered most, in conditions far worse than most trained operatives ever face.

If she vouches for this detective, that carries real weight. "

I looked around the table. The same conviction showed on every face. Even Duke Ako was nodding slowly. I'd always considered him level-headed.

My mind raced through the tactical considerations, the mission parameters, the risks. A human operative would be untested in Asad operations, unfamiliar with our technology and protocols.

But she'd also be unexpected.

And if the size match was perfect, if the cuddwisg distortion was minimal, Binwee would be there to guide her.

"One mission," I heard myself say. "One human operative. If this works, if she successfully extracts Enslak, then I'll reconsider expanding recruitment to include qualified human females in Asad Intelligence."

Chloe's face lit up with triumph. "You won't regret this."

I already regretted it.

But as I looked at the Prime's face and saw the desperate hope there, I knew I would've agreed to far worse odds for even a chance at bringing her son home.