Hijacked by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Eleven
Standing on the bridge between his brother and Camila, Misko crossed his arms and watched the cerulean blue planet grow larger before them. Kent had taken over as their pilot while Gretta recovered and enjoyed her new baby. The cyborg sniper had proven himself an able aviator, and Misko was glad their paths had crossed.
“We’re receiving a transmission,” Oona announced from the comms unit where she had taken up station. “Decoding.” A series of ciphers ran across the screen in front of her. When it finished decrypting the transmission, she explained, “It’s asking for an admission key.”
Camila listed a series of numbers, letters and symbols. The fact that she had managed to remember 39 characters with ease impressed him, especially as anxious as she was. She tried to hide it, but the tension in her stance was plain to him. Whether she worried about seeing her sister again after so long or the unknown future, he couldn’t say. Perhaps, it was both.
“Admission key was accepted. There is another query arriving,” Oona stated. After the transmission was deciphered, she said, “It is two questions. First, what was our mother holding in her left hand when we buried her?”
Misko glanced at Camila and noticed the flash of grief across her beautiful face. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished, and she calmly answered, “A braid of hair. Mine, Sara’s and Willa’s. Tied with a black ribbon.”
Oona transmitted the answer and then asked, “Second, what was the name of your elder sister’s best friend?”
A silly smile curved Camila’s mouth. With a little laugh, she said, “Zipper.” Then, glancing at him, she explained, “Sara rescued a baby pink-nosed glider that she found in our mother’s garden. She used to carry him around in pocket she attached to a lanyard. He was a wild little thing.” She frowned. “He used to jump onto my shoulder and steal strands of my hair.”
“Is it even legal to own an animal like that?” Branko wondered.
“Like someone would ever tell one of Xavyer Velders’ girls no,” Camila scoffed.
“We’ve been granted access to the planet’s airspace,” Oona announced. “My scan shows all planet defenses are at level green.”
“Proceed,” Misko ordered. “Have the civilians remain in their quarters until we dock. Get the rest of the team at landing positions.”
After Branko left to pass along his orders, Camila stepped close and bumped him with her hip. With a whisper, she asked, “What position do you want me to take, Captain?”
A streak of heat burned through him. She really was impossible. That flirtatious smile made him want to shirk his duties and show her exactly what position he had in mind. Instead, he narrowed his gaze at her in silent warning. “Behave.”
“Or what? You’ll tie me to the bed again?”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply. With a spark of mischief in her eyes, she sauntered off to the captain’s chair and flopped down into it. She buckled herself in, readying herself for the turbulence of entering the planet’s atmosphere, and then rested her hands on the sides of the chair as if she belonged there.
Her haughty behavior caused him much consternation, but he chose to ignore it rather than encouraging it by scolding her. She was easily egged on, and although he found her amusing and enjoyed their flirtatious banter, this wasn’t the time. His focus belonged on the landing.
The atmosphere reports warned of storms and high winds with pockets of dangerous pressure drops and rises. He sounded the ship wide alarm for turbulence and safety belts and steadied himself for the uncomfortable ride to come. The luxury yacht was top of the line in all ways, but the size and shape made it difficult to maneuver.
Once they cleared re-entry, the ship lurched dangerously and anything that wasn’t tied down or secured went flying. Kent manually adjusted the thrusters to regain a steady bearing, but the next pressure disturbance knocked the ship off course and into an undulating wave. Misko had never been more appreciative of the implanted controls that prevented him from developing motion sickness than in that moment.
Worried Camila might be sick, he glanced her way and was taken aback by the grin on her face. She was like a child at an amusement park, strapped into her favorite roller coaster. Of course, she would be the type to seek out thrill rides with wild drops and rushes of speed.
Finally, they passed through the turbulent atmosphere into a much more mundane rainstorm. Amid flashes of lightning and gale force winds, Kent brought the ship into the assigned landing lane. He maneuvered the ship into the empty dock and gently set it down on the airfield. The clutch of nerves in Misko’s stomach finally relaxed. His team and the civilians were safe.
Or maybe not.
The live feed from outside the ship showed dozens of heavily armed soldiers rushing forward in tight formations. They kept their weapons trained on the ship’s main exit. Not expecting this kind of reception, he looked to Camila who had unbuckled her safety belt. She rolled her eyes and huffed. “This is exactly how she reacted the one time I borrowed her biometrics to get into a speakeasy when we were teenagers.”
Before he could ask her how she borrowed her sister’s biometrics or what a speakeasy was, Camila strode to the comm’s unit and reached over Oona’s shoulder to tap the screen. She activated the external communication system. “Sara! Seriously? There are kids on this ship! Like babies! They're already traumatized! Maybe tell your guard dogs to kindly fuck off?”
Misko groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of all the ways to thank her sister for allowing them to seek refuge here, Camila had gone straight to the rudest words possible. To his surprise and, frankly, his relief, the armed teams lowered their weapons and moved away from the ship.
When Camila stepped away from the communication console, he crooked his finger at her and silently ordered her to come to him. She had the decency to look apologetic as she walked toward him. He glared down at her. “Do I need to explain how delicate this situation is?”
“I know my sister better than you do.”
“You haven’t seen her in years,” he reminded her. “You have no idea how much she has changed.”
“Whatever might have changed in her life or her outlook, she will always be my big sister. As a big brother, you should understand that bond.”
She had him there. Still, he insisted, “Be courteous. Please. For the children.”
She frowned at him. “You don’t play fair.”
“I like to win.”
“So do I.”
“Captain?” Oona interrupted. “We’re being boarded.”
Camila huffed dramatically. “Of course, we are.”
“Camila.” Misko shot her a warning glance.
“Okay. Fine.” She moved beside him and waited for the boarding party to reach the bridge.
The tall blonde who strode through the arched doorway in a flutter of black leather exuded power and disdain. She was taller than Camila and had sharper features, but their eyes were so similar he knew this was her older sister. Sara outlined her eyes with obsidian and stained her lips with a deep berry shade that was nearly purple. She kept her nails longer than Camila’s, the tips angular and sharp like the edges of a coffin, and painted them a dark shade that reminded him of the berries that grew on the tree outside his childhood home.
Sara’s hawkish gaze moved around the room, taking in the cyborgs surrounding Camila. Finally, she settled her attention on her sister and shook her head. “I should have known you would show up on my doorstep with a collection of fugitives.”
“Well, I learned everything I know about criminals and misfits from you,” Camila replied testily.
At that, Sara’s scowl morphed into a grin. She opened her arms, and Camila flew into them. Sara hugged her tightly and a look of utter joy and peace passed across the elder sister’s face. “By the stars, I’ve missed you!”
“I missed you more,” Camila replied, still clinging to her sister.
“Are you crying?” Sara asked, clearly stunned. “Cammy! Don’t cry! You’ll make me cry! And I’ll mess up my eyeliner!”
“I can’t help it.” Camila sniffled. “It’s been stressful around here.”
“Clearly,” Sara said, pressing Camila back and wiping the tears from her face. “You can tell me all about it in a bit. First,” she glanced at the cyborgs, “which one of these cyborgs is in charge?”
“Him.” Camila pointed in his direction. “His name is Misko. That one is his brother, Branko. Their other brother, Andro, is in the captain’s quarters. He’s hurt.”
Misko stepped forward and introduced himself. Sara shook his hand and asked, “How many wounded?”
“Andro is the only cyborg with serious injuries. We also have a human female who gave birth last night. She and her baby would benefit from medical care.”
“Not a problem,” Sara assured him. “We have a full hospital here. Your brother’s condition—is it medical or cyber?”
“Both,” he replied uncertainly. “We think.”
“After our medical team looks him over, I’ll try my hand at diagnosing any tech issues he has,” Sara promised. “I assume the rest of you were deprogrammed after your arrests?”
He nodded. “We were stripped of our abilities to access our enhanced biological defenses. Lasers, sound waves, et cetera.”
“That’s an easy fix.” She glanced at the guards standing behind her. “Let’s get their wounded evacuated to the hospital.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“As for the rest of you,” Sara continued, “let’s get you some hot food and clean quarters. We’ll handle the debriefing after you’ve had some rest.”
“Thank you,” Misko said and touched his chest. “We are in your debt.”
“And I intend to call in that debt,” Sara warned, unsettling him. She reached out and touched Camila’s face. “Come on, Cammy. We have a lot to discuss.”
As she left the ship at her sister’s side, Camila glanced back at him. She seemed apprehensive and worried, but not for herself. For him, he realized as she disappeared from view. He began to share her concern. Bringing his team and the civilians here had seemed to be the best choice, but now he wondered if it had been the right one.
Have we exchanged the yoke of the emperor for the collar of this anarchist general?
