Avalon
Page 82Milton swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “But you have most of those resources here with this crew.”
“No. Lizzie and Cora have to be safe. And I’ve already put everybody in enough danger as it is. As much as I want to rescue her, I know Mom would want me to take care of my sisters first.”
Milton sighed. “You’re right. That’s exactly what Marian would want.” He paused. “You’re so much like her sometimes.”
Sadness squeezed Jeth’s chest even tighter. “I’ve got to go.”
“I know,” Milton said. “Be careful.”
Jeth nodded and then strode for the door. He paused just outside and glanced back at Milton. “Make sure you keep an eye on Lizzie’s cat. Until she gets back.”
Milton smiled. “Of course.”
Jeth turned and left the room, hoping the dread he felt was wrong, that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his uncle.
And as he walked down the corridor to his cabin, he trailed his hand along the walls of his ship, whispering goodbye, and hoping, praying, this wasn’t the last time he saw his Avalon either.
EVEN WITH THE STEALTH DRIVE ENGAGED, APPROACHING the Northern Dancer was risky. Celeste had to keep their speed low enough that the other ship’s radar wouldn’t pick up their movement. They crawled along, moving annoyingly, impossibly slow.
Jeth had never seen Celeste so focused. She sat as rigid as a statue behind the Citation’s control column while he stood behind her, silently watching. Sierra sat copilot, using her knowledge of the Northern Dancer to help them. They couldn’t rely on the autopilot for this, as Celeste had to keep making adjustments to their path to ensure they lined up successfully with the Northern Dancer. She could only make a change a fraction of a millimeter at a time. Several times, she pushed it a little too hard, and Jeth held his breath, certain they would be spotted.
More than an hour after starting their approach, they finally reached the Northern Dancer. The massive ship looked the same as any other luxury liner Jeth had seen, fat and cumbersome, as unthreatening as the manatee Hammer kept in his menagerie back on Peltraz. It was hard to believe it housed the kind of firepower Sierra claimed, and yet he didn’t doubt her. He knew well enough from Hammer’s enterprise that you shouldn’t trust the outward appearance of any ship. Still, Jeth supposed the ITA had made a good choice in using it for black ops. If weaponized, a ship as large as a Strata would carry a devastating amount of firepower—enough to vaporize a ship as small as the Citation.
Once they were close enough to be out of range of the Northern Dancer’s radar, Jeth placed a hand on Celeste’s shoulder. “Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?”
She ignored him, her focus as rigid as ever.
“There.” Sierra pointed out the window. “Get as close as you can beneath that wing, but don’t break fifty meters. Even with a stealth drive, you’ll set off the proximity alarm.”
Celeste’s answering nod was so slight Jeth thought he might’ve imagined it.
“I’ve got a read on Lizzie’s position,” Dax said, looking up from the comm station monitor. “Looks like L Deck, stern.”
“What is it?” Vince asked, standing up from the nav station. He did it slowly, his face pale and pinched from the effort. He’d lost a lot of blood from the gunshot wound in his side. Sierra had wanted him to stay on Avalon, but Vince insisted on being near her. Especially if you’re going in there, Jeth had overheard him saying during the argument.
“That’s the brig,” Sierra said, pointing at the screen. “Why would they put Lizzie in there? I was expecting her to be on one of the passenger decks. It’s not like she’s dangerous.”
“She is with a computer,” said Jeth, coming over to have a look.
“And she knows how to be a pain in the ass when she wants to,” said Shady, standing just to the side of the comm station.
“Or maybe he’s expecting us,” Vince said, pressing a hand against his side as if each word hurt. “How detectable is this tracer you used?”
Dax looked up at him. “Not very, unless you’ve got the right equipment and know where to look for it.”
“Then it is possible he knows we’re coming,” said Jeth, a bad feeling crawling across his skin. “That soldier might’ve noticed when you shot her with the tracer.”
Vince touched Sierra’s shoulder, his face drawn with worry. “This could be a trap.”
“Fair point,” said Dax. He looked at Sierra “Did you include a plan for getting to the brig when you were mapping things out?”
She nodded. “I’ll double-check it just to be safe.”
“What about Cora?” Jeth asked. “Any idea where they’re keeping her?”
“Nope,” said Dax. “But her location might be listed if anybody knows how to do a remote hack.”
Sierra grimaced. “I do, but it’d be risky. I’m not sure I can penetrate the security protocols, and the last thing we want to do is hack it poorly and let them know we’re here.”
“So, what will you do?” asked Vince, a note of petulance in his voice. Sierra might’ve given into letting him come over to the Citation, but she refused to allow him to come with the rescue party. Jeth felt sorry for the guy, knowing full well what it was like to have your sister be in danger when you were not. He never would have stood for it. Then again, neither of his sisters was as fearsome as Sierra—at least not yet. Maybe in a couple of years . . .