And without warning, the hangar was rocked by a thunderous explosion.
Alison gasped, grabbing the edge of the safe as the blast lifted the van an inch off the floor and then slammed it back down again. Someone was shouting into her ear, but for those first few seconds she couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing.
But at least she was still conscious. If she hadn't been inside the van when the concussion blast went off, she'd be flat on her back right now.
Abruptly, the ringing cleared. "—blew the door and are coming in," Jack was saying urgently. "All of them, and they're spreading out to cover the whole hangar."
"I'm coming in," Draycos added, his voice dark and grim. "Find somewhere to hide until I get there."
"You'll never make it," Alison said quickly. She could hear the widely separated sounds of squealing brakes as the cars came to a halt in four different parts of the hangar. "They're too spread out, and there's no cover. They'll kill you."
She heard a sudden whistling sound from the comm clip as Draycos left the car and sprinted through the night air. "My life isn't important," he said over the whistling. "The data diamonds you've obtained are all that matter."
"No, they're not," Alison snapped, looking frantically around her for inspiration. "How do we convince StarForce this is on the level without a genuine K'da to show them?"
"You have Taneem."
"Who was born and raised on Rho Scorvi," Alison countered, knowing that she was running out of time. The first thing Frost would check once his men declared the area secure would be his precious safe.
The safe.
And with that, she knew what she had to do. "We're getting into the safe," she said, grabbing the MixStar. Crouching down, she stepped into the big metal box.
"You're what?" Jack demanded. "Alison—"
"My mask can give us air for six hours," Alison cut him off, sitting down facing the safe door with her knees tucked to her chest. It would be a tight fit, but not too bad. The door's inner plate, she noted, had several small access holes to the lock mechanism that were big enough for her to get a couple of fingers into. "We'll be safe until then, so take your time and pick your moment. Don't try to rescue me—either of you. Understand?"
"Yes," Draycos said reluctantly.
"Good," Alison said. Taneem, she noted uneasily, had gone rigid against her skin. Was the K'da claustrophobic? She hoped not. "Also, don't worry if you can't catch up with us before the six hours run out. Taneem and I will just play it by ear. I can get to the lock from in here, so we won't be stuck."
"Understood," Draycos said, his voice tight but steady. "Good luck."
Alison could hear heavy footsteps now, and the echo of terse commands. Bracing herself, she got a grip on the door and pulled it closed. There was a soft click as the lock reengaged.
And she and Taneem were alone in utter darkness.
"Taneem?" she murmured softly toward her shoulder. "You all right?"
There was no answer. "Taneem?" Alison tried again. "Come on, girl; we've been in worse scrapes than this one."
"Have we?" Taneem whispered back, her voice shaking. "Have we really?"
Alison grimaced. Actually, they probably hadn't. "We're going to be fine," she assured the K'da. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she dug her mascara tube from her kit. "Let's see if we can hear what they're talking about out there."
Unscrewing the end from the tube, she placed it into her ear. The burglar's pickup was designed to let her listen into safes from the outside. There was no reason it shouldn't let her listen the other direction, too. Switching on the microphone half of the tube, she pressed it against the safe wall beside her.
"—Morgan, I tell you," Colonel Frost's voice growled faintly in her ear. "It's exactly the sort of crazy stunt he and that frunging K'da of his would pull."
"Very likely," a second voice answered.
Alison felt a shiver run through her. That voice was very familiar: Arthur Neverlin, once the number-two man at Braxton Universis. The man who, five months ago, had framed Jack for theft and murder and then blackmailed him into helping with his plan to kill Cornelius Braxton and take complete control of the huge corporation.
Only Jack and Draycos had turned the tables on him. They'd saved Braxton's life and sent Neverlin scurrying for the shadows where he'd been lurking ever since.
Which probably meant Neverlin hated Jack as much as Colonel Frost hated Alison.
Alison's father had once told her it was good to have all your enemies grouped together in the same place. At the time, she'd thought it sounded like a reasonable idea. Now, she wasn't so sure.
"Which brings up the question of what he was trying to accomplish," Neverlin continued. "Morgan wouldn't waste his time just trying to tweak us."
"I think it's pretty obvious this is what he was after." There was a sharp rap on the side of the safe. "Question is, did he get in or not?"
"There's one way to find out," Neverlin said. "Unfortunately, since we don't know how Kayna opened the other one, we'll probably destroy it if we try."
A sudden cold chill ran down Alison's back. In her hurry to get out of sight, she'd completely forgotten the fact that the K'da and Shontine had booby-trapped these safes to protect the precious information inside them.
Booby-trapped with a small but powerful bomb, in fact. A bomb that was currently pressed up against the side of Alison's head.
"Yeah." Frost bit out a curse under his breath. "She did something—she must have done something—that the other safecrackers we hired didn't do. But I've been over that recording a hundred times, and for the life of me I can't figure out what it was."
"Yes, she was a very clever little girl, our Alison," Neverlin murmured, his voice even more snakelike than usual. "I do hope we run into her again someday."
"In the meantime, we have to decide what to do about this safe," Frost said. "Do we open it and see if the data diamonds are still there, or not?"
"Not, I think," Neverlin said. "I generally dislike destroying something I might someday find a use for. Besides, even if Morgan has the rendezvous location, there's nothing he can do to stop us. Certainly not without warning."
"If the flaggers you bribed in StarForce stay bribed," Frost countered sourly. "If you ask me, people who are willing to take money to watch your backtrail are just as willing to change sides for a better offer."
Alison grimaced. So Jack's guess had been right. Neverlin had people in high places watching and waiting for Jack and Draycos to surface. If the two of them had gone to StarForce or the Internos government when all this started, as Uncle Virge had urged, they would probably be dead right now.
And Alison herself would be off somewhere about her own business instead of sitting here locked in a coffin-sized alien safe. Sometimes, she reflected, it didn't pay to play the what-if game too deeply.
"Don't worry about the flaggers," Neverlin said. "Money isn't the only thing that can ensure a man's loyalty."
Another voice called something, the words too faint for Alison to make out. "What?" Frost called back.
The other voice grew louder as its owner moved closer, until it was loud enough for Alison to understand. "—under the edge vent," the other said.
"Well, well," Frost said, a sudden malicious amusement in his voice. "So Morgan thinks he's clever."
"Get away from us with that thing," Neverlin snapped.
"Relax; it's not a bomb," Frost soothed. "It's the hyperspace tracer I planted on his ship a couple of months back."
There was a slight pause. "Really," Neverlin said, all calm and icy again. "Interesting."
"More stupid than interesting," Frost countered. "He must think we're amateurs. Dumbarton, check it for booby traps and bugs and then put it in my car."
"Yes, sir." A few soft footsteps and the other was gone.
"So you think Morgan was being stupid?" Neverlin asked.
"Don't you?" Frost countered.
"Oh, I wasn't referring to his foo
lishness in thinking these shuttles would take their occupants someplace worth tracing," Neverlin said. "I was referring to the fact that he accurately guessed our need for the Patri Chookoock's soldiers. And that he guessed it early enough to plant himself in here before our own security perimeter went up. I wonder what else he may have guessed."
"What he guessed?" Frost asked, his voice going cool. "Or what he might have been told?"
"An interesting conclusion for you to jump to," Neverlin said, matching his tone.
Alison smiled tightly to herself. Maybe some of the seeds of distrust she'd tried to plant between Neverlin and Frost were starting to grow.
"I didn't mean you, naturally," Frost said. "And my own troops are completely trustworthy. But the Patri didn't seem too thrilled about you taking away both his soldiers and this thing." He tapped the safe again.
"Though not nearly as unhappy as he was about that Malison Ring raid on his estate two weeks ago," Neverlin countered.
Frost grunted. "And whoever the frunging idiot was who put that particular centipede in their shirts is going to pay for it," he promised darkly. "I don't believe for a minute it was really General Davi who ordered it."
"Regardless, it's one more reason for the Patri to perhaps be reevaluating his part in this."
"Let him reevaluate," Frost said. "We've got all the Brummgas that we need, and once we're off Brum-a-dum there won't be any way for him to call them back if he changes his mind. Anyway, he'll come around again once it's done and there's loot to be passed out."
"Indeed." Neverlin paused. "There is, of course, one other possibility. I understand we have a new fighter pilot on the payroll."
"Former StarForce Wing Sergeant Jonathan Langston," Frost said, his voice suddenly as thoughtful as Neverlin's. "He claims Morgan betrayed him."
"Claims being the key word," Neverlin said. "What exactly do we know about him?"
"He and his Djinn-90 disappeared somewhere in the vicinity of that canyon on Semaline," Frost said. "He claims he was held captive by the inhabitants—"
"There's that word claims again," Neverlin put in. "I don't want claims, Colonel. I want facts."
"Don't worry, I'm watching him," Frost promised. "Meanwhile, what do we do about this?" There was another thunk as he tapped the side of the safe.
"We'll take it with us as planned," Neverlin said. "But not on either of these shuttles, in case Morgan had more surprises up his sleeve. The first group of transports should be back soon from the transfer point. We'll deploy for siege and wait for them."
"Do you want to call the Patri for reinforcements?"
"I hardly think that necessary," Neverlin said, and Alison could imagine the other's detestably oily smile. "We can handle this ourselves."
"Yes, sir," Frost said. "I'll deploy the troops."
There were a few faint footsteps, and then all was silence again. Alison held the microphone against the wall another few seconds, just to be sure, then turned it off and replaced the earphone end. "You heard all that?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Taneem murmured from her shoulder. "What do we do?"
Alison started to take a deep breath. She remembered in time that they needed to conserve air and made it a shallow breath instead. "We settle in, try to relax, and wait."
The Malison Ring mercenaries were piling out of the cars in the distant hangar, their weapons held ready as they spread out across the floor. "Come on; come on," Jack muttered under his breath, squeezing the steering wheel of his borrowed car as if he were trying to break it. He should never have agreed to this stupid plan. "Come on."
And then Draycos was there, a black shadow sprinting toward him through the other shadows of the building site between Jack and the hangar. Jack stretched out his arm toward the open window, and as the K'da dived through the opening he caught the boy's hand with his front paws and slithered up his sleeve. "Go," Draycos ordered tautly. "Not too fast."
Jack clenched his teeth. But Draycos was right. Even with the horrible urgency pressing in on them he couldn't simply peel away as if the entire Internos police force were on his tail.
And so, with an air of casual unconcern, he pulled the car away from the curb. An honest citizen driving away from an honest errand, not a guilty would-be thief running from the scene of the crime.
He played the role for three blocks, until he was out of sight and hearing of the men back at the hangar. Then, stomping hard on the accelerator, he kicked the car to high speed.
"Careful," Draycos warned, his head rising from Jack's shoulder to look out the boy's shirt. "Frost might have backup watchers even this far out."
"Doesn't matter," Jack gritted out, the red-tinged image of Alison and Taneem buried alive inside that safe hazing over his eyes like a vision of the ground floor of hell. "Even if he did, it's too late for them to stop us."
"What's your plan?"
"We go in full bore," Jack told him. "Uncle Virge, get prepped to fly, and activate all weapons systems."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Uncle Virge asked cautiously. "They'll surely have heavy weaponry in there with them."
"They'll never get a chance to use it," Jack said. "No warning—we're just going to blast away at the hangar with everything we've got."
"But Alison and Taneem—"
"Are inside three inches of hardened metal with their own air supply," Jack cut him off. "Draycos?"
"Yes, you're right," Draycos agreed, a cautious hope in his voice. "They should be well protected against any of the Essenay's weapons."
"That's the nice thing about some traps—you can get them to work in either direction," Jack said, a grim and not entirely pleasant thrill rippling through him. After months of running and ducking and hiding, he and Draycos were finally going to take the battle to the enemy.
He was still psyching himself up for combat when a delivery truck pulled out of a blind driveway directly in front of him.
He jammed on the brakes. But he was going way too fast, and it was already way too late. With a horrible crunching of metal and plastic, he slammed full tilt into the truck's front left side.
For a short eternity the car spun and twisted terrifyingly around him. Then, abruptly, it came to a halt. Breathing heavily, Jack peered between the milky white balloons of the car's emergency protection system as they slowly receded back into their compartments.
He'd ended up half turned around, facing back toward the truck. The front left side of the other vehicle was a shambles, though not nearly as bad as the mess Jack had made of his own car. "Draycos?" he panted.
"I'm unharmed," the K'da said from his shoulder. "You?"
"I'm okay," Jack assured him. With a grating creak, the truck door opened and the Brummgan driver climbed rather shakily to the ground. "Looks like the other guy is, too."
"We'd best get out of here," Draycos warned. "The accident will hardly have gone unnoticed."
Jack looked through his broken windows. All around them Brummgas had stopped their cars or had appeared in open doorways or were peering out of windows. "No kidding," he said, pulling the door release and leaning against the panel.
For a wonder, it wasn't jammed, and with an ear-piercing shriek he got it open. With his hands shaking with reaction, it took another half minute to get his seat belts off. He had just gotten them clear when a large hand reached in, grabbed his left upper arm, and hauled him bodily out of the car.
And he found himself staring up at the dark Brummgan eyes and gleaming golden collar ring of a police officer. "Your vehicle license?" the Brummga demanded.
Jack felt his heart sink. Oh no. "Sure," he managed, pointing back into the car. "It's in the storage compartment." If he could get into the car and out the other side . . . "I'll get it."
But he'd barely started his turn when the grip on his arm tightened and pulled him back again. "This vehicle plate shows it stolen," the Brummga growled. "You come now to jail."
Jack? Draycos's urgent thought came.
From overhea
d came a faint whine. Jack looked up to see a formation of three long-range shuttles appear, losing altitude as they flew toward the Chookoock family's private hangar.
Frost's shuttles had returned.
And if the mercenaries were monitoring the police comm system, the sudden frantic flurry of reports claiming a dragon had attacked a cop would bring them down on him and Draycos in double-quick time.
Jack?
Don't bother, Jack told him wearily, his earlier thrill of anticipation burned into ash.
He was being put into the rear seat of the police car when he saw the Chookoock shuttles lift again into the sky. He watched them head for the stars, his stomach knotted tight enough to hurt.
Alison and Taneem were on their own now.
CHAPTER 3
The returning shuttles arrived sooner than Alison had expected. Far too soon, unfortunately, for Jack and Draycos to have had time to put together a rescue plan.
Neverlin and Frost were probably thinking along the same lines. They wasted no time getting their troops and the safe aboard and lifting off again.
Alison tried her burglar's pickup a couple of times during the flight. But the safe had apparently been secured someplace away from the passengers, and the background rumble of the engines masked whatever anyone might be saying.
There wasn't much conversation going on inside the safe, either. Taneem would answer any questions that Alison asked her, mostly questions about how the K'da was doing. But aside from that she lay quietly against Alison's skin, neither speaking nor moving.
Maybe she was conserving oxygen. More likely she was just terrified.
The flight didn't last long. An hour and a half after lifting from Brum-a-dum, Alison felt the subtle jolt as the shuttle docked with another vessel. A few minutes later the safe was rocked onto a lift cart and rolled through the shuttle's hatchway. Ten minutes and several turns later, they reached their destination. Another short flurry of rockings and bumps to get them off the cart, and the safe came to rest.