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Jessie
The henchman forced me into a hovercar with darkened windows, and we zoomed out of the Jericho garage.
“Imana won’t get away with this,” I said. “The LOP will catch up with her.”
The henchman laughed.
I hated him, but I couldn’t blame him for laughing. The LOP’s efforts to stamp out trafficking did not inspire confidence. They’d managed to nab some traffickers and rescue a few victims, but the getaways far outnumbered the arrests.
Maxx’s mother had been kidnapped decades ago. The no-contact rule had created a cover of secrecy enabling the criminality to flourish. Traffickers had infiltrated our government! I could understand why many wondered if the LOP was assisting the traffickers rather than trying to bring them to justice. But I’d witnessed firsthand how the best intentions could go awry.
Leaping to the wrong conclusion, I’d jeopardized Garrison’s life, undermined a legitimate agent, compromised the mission, and cost the freedom of my fellow humans. It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble.It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.
After about fifteen minutes in the air, the hovercar landed, and the windows turned transparent. We’d set down among dozens of hover and ground vehicles at the edge of a country field surrounded by woods. A half dozen human-appearing men armed with stunners marched three dozen people toward the center of the field whereupon, one by one, they vanished. They’re herding them onto a cloaked ship.
“Your turn.” Imana’s henchman cackled.
His sense of humor was getting on my nerves.
He dragged me out of the hovercar and forced me to join the throng where he passed me off to a human-appearing kidnapper. “Orders from the princess are to kill her if she causes any trouble.” Then he strode to his hovercar and zoomed away. His stunner-armed replacement prodded me forward. He wore no telltale broach. Unless the cartel had some other magical shapeshifting tech, this guy was human. A special room in hell ought to be reserved for traitors. I scrutinized the other thugs. Half wore the lapel pin; half didn’t.
The broaches must be programmed to the individual’s genetics so they only worked on him or her. Otherwise, when I picked up Imana’s, I would have projected an image of Erika Stadler.
Garrison had the broach now. Hopefully, he’d realize he needed to get out of Jericho. But how long could he evade capture? Imana had the full power and resources of the New Terran government—and her own secret Copan guard force.
Too soon, I entered the belly of an enormous cargo ship. To the left and right, I spied rows and rows of tiny occupied cells. Beneath the cries of misery, force fields sizzled. Armed Copan guards—no glamour needed—kept watch on a catwalk and marched along the rows.
Anyone who boarded would recognize the vessel as a slave ship.
“Left.” The traitor ushered me down the nearest row. Three quarters of the captives were female, the rest male. I saw a few with burns from trying to break through the force field. One cell held four terrified children, eight, maybe nine years old.
“You’re despicable,” I said to the guard. “You’re a vile human being.”
“You know what else I am?” With a handheld, he cut the force field to a cell imprisoning three women and shoved me inside then reactivated the invisible barrier. “I’m on the outside,” he said.
“Nobody trusts someone who betrays their own people. The aliens will use you, but they won’t ever trust you. One day you’ll find yourself in a cell. Don’t hitch any rides from any aliens,” I said. “Assuming you can tell who they are.”
He glowered, but before he could respond, a human-appearing Copan guard marched toward the cell and deactivated it. “Did you search her?” he asked.
“For what?”
The Copan motioned me out of the cell. While the human stood by with his stun stick, the Copan patted me down from head to toe. It was all I could do not to react to his hands on my body. “She doesn’t have it,” he muttered.
“Have what?” the guard asked.
Imana’s device.
The Copan shoved me back into the cell. The force field sizzled again. “Come on. There’s another busload to bring on board and then the ship is leaving.”
“I thought it wasn’t blasting off until this evening,” the traitor said.
“The launch has been moved up.”
“Why?”
“That’s not something you need to worry about.”
The two bounded for the gangway.
