Centaur Page 4

  Pholus patted him on the shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve done it dozens of times. It almost never goes wrong.” With a chuckle, he turned and opened the hatch leading down into the hold. “Be right back.”

  Opal finished bandaging her foot and tested it on the deck. The pain had subsided a good deal, but her foot still wouldn’t take any weight without sending a jagged spear of pain up her leg. Gingerly, she put her socks and shoes back on.

  “Did he say what I thought he said?”

  “Yeah, he did. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I haven’t got those giant elastics.”

  Opal made her way gingerly across the cabin and knelt down next to the limp form of her torturer. Two fingers to his neck found a weak pulse. “He’s still alive, Harry.”

  “You saw what your boyfriend there did to him. Is he going to live much longer?”

  “We have to bring him to a hospital.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to the big man about that, honey. I don’t think that’s part of his plan.”

  Opal sighed, and pulled herself upright and leaned over to the little intercom panel. She touched the control for the hold. “Pholus, Lieutenant Clarke is alive.”

  They heard Pholus’ footsteps approaching “Good.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, that means he’ll be warm for a while longer.”

  “What are you going to do, Pholus?”

  “Lieutanant Clarke is going to be a decoy.”

  “How is one man going to decoy all three of us?”

  “He’s not. He’s going to decoy you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “On infrared, through the walls of the float, they aren’t going to be able to tell us apart… except for me. If you’ve got Clarke’s transponder, they’re going to think you’re him. If you’re collapsed in the float, and they see me leaving with someone they think is you, they’ll think we overpowered him and escaped. You and Harry will be able to get away while they chase me.”

  Chapter Four

  "Pholus, no…”

  “I can’t think of any other way you’re going to get out of this, Opal.”

  “How do you plan on getting his transponder out?”

  “You’re going to take it out.”

  “I can’t. It’ll kill him.”

  “There’s no other way, Opal.”

  Opal paused. “No, I think there’s a better way. How well will they be able to see through the walls of the float?”

  “Blurry, but they’ll be able to tell one person from another.”

  “And as long as they think Clarke is in charge, they’re not going to fire on us?”

  “Yeah, for a while at least. They know something is up, though, because we changed course.”

  “Alright. So how about this? We prop Clarke up in the control cabin, in the copilot’s chair. You stand behind them. I’ll stay back in the crew cabin, as if I’m still tied up.”

  “And then what? What do we say when they call and ask for Clarke’s report?”

  “You tell them his throat was injured in a fight with me.”

  “They’re not going to believe that.”

  “Why not? I’m tougher than I look, and coming from you, they’ll have to accept it. You saw how Clarke reacted. They can’t conceive that your loyalty may have turned. They’re overconfident.”

  A grunt. “Alright, we’ll do it your way. At least, win or lose, we’ll go together. We had better get into position. It won’t be long until they’re here.”

  With Pholus manhandling Clarke into position, it took only a minute to get everyone where they belonged. Clarke slumped in the chair, Pholus behind him wearing Harry’s spare radio headset.

  It was only a few minutes more until helicopters came over the hills to flank Harry’s craft. The radio crackled.

  “Alpha Six Niner Zebra Eight Eight, change course and return to your designated rendezvous point.”

  Pholus took a deep breath. “Negative, control. Lieutenant Clarke is badly hurt. Won’t survive diversion. Our course is for Port Moresby Hospital.”

  A different voice came on the radio. “Sergeant Haffner?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sergeant, this is Major Smith. Was Lieutenant Clarke able to get the information he was looking for?”

  “No, sir. He was injured before he managed it.”

  “How the hell did that happen?”

  “She got him with a lucky shot to the throat, sir.”

  “Fuck. Alright. You’re going to have to get that information yourself, soldier. You know what we’re after?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If you need us to coach you through it, give us a yell. We’ll be right here. And hurry. We need to track down anything she has sent out before it gets loose.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, sir.” Pholus put the headset down and turned to Harry for a quiet word. “Shout when you make contact with Port Moresby air traffic control.”

  Harry nodded.

  Pholus walked back to the crew compartment and closed the door.

  Opal whispered. “Can they hear us?” She lay on the bunk where she had been restrained before, lying on her side as if still chained.

  “No. But they’ve almost certainly got the infrared on us by now. They’ll be able to see us, at least in the broad outlines. The walls of this thing are pretty thin.”

  “How long do we have to bluff this?”

  “An hour or so. After that we’ll be close enough to Port Moresby that they wouldn’t dare fire on us. We’ll be in range of the airport radar by then. If they fire on us then, it’ll be an international incident; Harry has Australian registry.”

  “So we have to pretend that you’re torturing me for that long?”

  “Yes.” Pholus retrieved the handcuffs from where he had set them aside.

  “Wait, are those necessary?”

  “You’re going to need to thrash against them. It won’t look realistic otherwise.”

  “No, really, I only just...” Opal whooped as Pholus hauled her out of the bunk and with offhanded certainty handcuffed one wrist and then the other to the stanchions holding up the upper bunk, leaving her standing with arms spread between them. “Pholus! This is entirely unnecessary.”

  “Quiet. I’m saving your life, don’t argue with me.” The huge mercenary knelt at Opal’s feet and handcuffed her ankles to the stanchions where they met the floor.

  As he stood up, Opal caught sight of Pholus’s slightly quirked smile and gritted her teeth. “You pig! You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to pretend to slap you. React.” Pholus waved his hand at Opal’s head and she tossed it back and to the side as if he had landed a heavy blow on her cheek.

  Pholus pulled a knife and put its tip to the fabric between Opal’s breasts.

  “No! Wait… this is my favorite shirt. Don’t cut it. It repels bugs, keeps me warm and dry, hardly ever needs to be cleaned... you don’t know what I had to go through to get it.”

  “It can be replaced.” Pholus pulled the fabric away from her skin with one hand, and drew the knife across with the other, a bare millimeter above her skin. The brown fabric parted under his blade, making a long horizontal slash. Her breasts spilled out when he released the material from his fingers. He smiled and sheathed the knife. Taking her full breasts in his hands, he looked into her eyes and grinned. “Act like I’m hurting you.” His fingers were gentle, squeezing and kneading as if caressing a kitten.

  Opal thrashed against her chains. She didn’t need to add much to the performance. Pholus’s handling made her bite her lip, arch her back, and rattle the chains that held her hands. To keep them from hurting herself in the handcuffs she grabbed the stanchions with her hands. “Pholus,” she gasped, “What are you doing?”

  “Helping your act.”

  A low moan, barely audible, drifted through the thin door from the control cabin. Harry’s voice was unmistakable.

&
nbsp; “Oh, god, Pholus…” Opal’s face and chest began to flush. Opal felt a warm flush rising to her face and neck. “Harry has a camera in here somewhere!”

  “Does it matter? Half the company’s probably watching you on the infrared anyways. What’s one more?”

  The thought that those men were watching her wasn’t bad. They were strangers, and she knew an infrared picture wouldn’t show them much detail. But Harry... Harry was an old friend, a platonic friend, someone with whom she had never imagined anything sexual... and the thought that he was on the other side of that door, watching her on his little monitor, turned up the fires that were already burning inside her. Humiliation, fear, arousal, anger; the emotions boiled and blended into a potent brew. Opal whimpered and closed her eyes, focusing on the feelings that Pholus’s powerful hands were exciting in her body.

  Pholus drew his blade again, and knelt between her legs. With great care, he made another cut in the crotch of her stretchy pants. The fabric pulled away from the moist, swollen lips of her pussy. She felt the cold blade of the knife flat against her thigh.

  “Careful…” Opal managed to say between short, gasping breaths.

  “I know how to handle a knife.” The fingers of Pholus’s free hand explored her vulva, stroking, spreading, probing.

  Opal’s breath caught as Pholus’s finger pushed up against her clit. “Ooh! Not too hard there...”

  “What, this?” Pholus pressed a finger against the nub.

  “Aah! Yes! Not so rough! That’s my clitoris... Just... just run your finger around it... not right on it.”

  “Like this?”

  “Oh… oh yes... like that.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “It’s okay… you’re... making up for it.” Opal leaned her head back with a long, low purr. “Mmm, yes, now stroke down to... ohhhh...”

  Pholus learned quickly, experimenting with pinches and pokes, twists and tickles. Opal gripped the stanchions desperately, wishing she could embrace the huge man at her feet. A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead.

  Suddenly, Pholus stopped and stood up.

  “Mmm, no, don’t stop now!”

  “Quiet!” whispered Pholus, as he clamped one hand over her mouth. “Hear that?”

  Opal could hear nothing over the pounding of her heartbeat and the quiet sounds of the float’s machinery. She looked up and gave Pholus a worried look.

  “Someone’s walking around on top of the float. They must have dropped down from a helicopter.”

  “Oh, god, Pholus, get me out of this! Don’t let them find me this way!” Opal squirmed in her bonds.

  “No time.”

  Pholus opened the door to the control cabin just as the upper hatch was opening. Opal couldn’t see Harry; he had abandoned his control chair, no doubt to cower in a corner, but she could see Pholus. A Blackstorm trooper, identical to Pholus but for the camouflage paint on his face and chest, dropped through the hatch and stood in the middle of the control room, submachine gun aimed at Harry. A second dropped down through the hatch and turned to Pholus. “New orders. We’re taking the woman and her computer back to base. You’re going to escort the lieutenant to the hospital.” His voice sounded eerily like Pholus’s.

  Pholus nodded. “Computer’s down in the cargo bay. Black backpack with red trim.”

  Out of view, she heard the wet sound of spit hitting the floor. “Traitor!” Harry growled.

  “Can’t blame a guy for having a little fun, eh?” He reached into his pocket, and tossed a set of keys to the trooper holding Harry at bay. “Go get the woman. I can handle this guy.”

  As one trooper dropped into the cargo area, Pholus swung around on the man passing him to enter the crew compartment. Pholus drove his elbow into the back of the trooper’s neck, driving him down to his knees. With a wrench, Pholus tore the weapon out of his hands and brought its butt down on the trooper’s skull. He collapsed like a bag of potatoes.

  Pholus sent a burst of gunfire down into the hold, then pointed at Harry. “You! Get on the radio to air traffic control. Tell them we’re being boarded by air pirates. And get out from under that chopper!”

  Harry scrambled back into his control chair, near panic, and fumbled with the controls.

  Pholus ripped the radio headset off the trooper at his feet and wrapped it around his skull. “Captain! Unit Haffner went berserk... but we got him. Want us to send up his body?” There was a pause. “Affirmative.” Pholus stepped under the hatchway and sent another long burst of gunfire up into the air. Pulling the hatch closed, he pulled off the radio headset and tossed it in the corner. “That ought to keep them guessing for a few minutes.”

  Harry shouted into his microphone. “Air pirates! Yes, I said air pirates! Two helicopters, send help fast!” Harry smacked the console with his hand. “Dammit!”

  “What?” Pholus moved behind him, glancing at the screens on the control console.

  “They’re jamming. I don’t know how much got through.”

  “Alright… bring us down low. As far down as you dare.”

  “Aye aye, big guy.” Harry punched buttons, and pushed on his control stick. The ship tilted slowly, nosing into a shallow dive.

  Pholus scooped up the handcuff keys where they had fallen on the deck and returned to Opal. “We’re over some rice paddies. We need to get ready to bail out.” He worked quickly, freeing her limbs from their steel bindings.

  “Are they going to shoot at us?”

  “If we’re lucky, they’ll just shoot holes in the gasbag and force us down.”

  “And if we’re not lucky?” Opal rubbed her wrist where the handcuff had bitten.

  “Then they shoot at us.” The last handcuff released its grip and Pholus pulled Opal into the control cabin. “How far up are we?”

  Opal tried to pull the shredded ends of her garment together to restore some semblance of modesty.

  “Ten meters,” said Harry. “Any lower and we risk running into a tree or a pole.”

  “Are they still jamming?”

  “Yeah, no letup.”

  “Well, that by itself is going to draw attention, and not just from ATC. They must be desperate.”

  A muffled explosion shook the airship. The floor lurched, and red lights blinked in a half dozen spots on Harry’s board. The cabin lights flickered and died.

  Opal rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. “What now?”

  “They just shot out the main engine.” Harry reached under his board and yanked on a big red knob. “That’s the emergency vent. We’re going down... brace yourselves.”

  Chapter Five

  Pholus reached down through the hatch towards Harry. “Come on! I’ll pull you up.” The float was deflating, but its upper surface was still somewhat firm.

  Harry shook his head. “I’m staying with my float.” He threw a suspicious look at the menacing helicopter circling the crash site. “Safer in here, I think.”

  “Don’t argue! Grab my hand…”

  Gunfire erupted from the side of the helicopter, and Pholus dove to cover Opal with his body. Miraculously, neither was hit, though the backpack slung over Opal’s back sported a smoking bullet-hole.

  “Fine, have it your way.” Pholus took Opal’s arm and ran for the nearest cover, a small cluster of buildings. They didn’t look like they’d provide much protection, being little more than plywood boxes mounted on stout wooden stilts, but it was better than nothing.

  With the bottom part of her stretchy shirt folded up over her breasts and the top of her pants folded down over her crotch, she didn’t feel quite so exposed, but that was small comfort compared to the vulnerability of running across an open field under the threat of automatic weapons fire.

  They dove behind a cluster of oil drums in the space under one house and another fusillade of bullets cracked and whined around them.

  “Those guys looked just like you.”

  “Yeah.” Pholus peeked around the rim of an oil drum.r />
  “You’re a clone, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but this isn’t a good time to discuss things!” Pholus unslung the submachine gun and sent a few bullets in the direction of the field.

  “I thought so. I’ve seen this movie… it doesn’t end well.” Opal adjusted her shirt and cautiously peered over the barrels. The helicopter had landed, and a half-dozen troopers were spreading out, firing short bursts in their direction.

  Pholus held his gun above the barricade and sprayed bullets at the approaching soldiers, and then hauled Opal to her feet. Crouching, they scurried away from the approaching assault, into a small copse of trees and brush. Pholus pushed through, and within a few seconds they burst out into a dirt road. Panting, Opal pointed to a pickup truck parked on the side of the road.

  Pholus ran to it, opened the door and quickly scanned the interior. “No keys.”

  Opal pushed past him, into the driver’s seat. “Don’t they teach you anything useful?” Grabbing the knife from his belt, Opal fished underneath, pulled out some wires, and within seconds had the ancient machine running.

  Shouts came from the trees, followed quickly by gunfire. Pholus swung into the back of the truck as Opal gunned the engine and accelerated away from the approaching soldiers while Pholus sprayed bullets at the troopers boiling out of the trees, making them dive for cover.

  Laughing and hooting, Pholus reached down, opened the passenger door, and swung down into the passenger seat next to Opal.

  “Do you think we’re safe?” Opal glanced nervously at Pholus.

  “Not yet.” Pholus stuck his head out the window and scanned the sky briefly before ducking back inside. “It’s going to take them a few minutes to get back in the helicopter, and airborne again. The radio jamming is going to set off alarm bells; all we need is a place to hide until the authorities chase them off. That means hiding the truck first.”

  “Alright then...” Opal swerved off the road to stop amidst another cluster of small houses, scattering chickens and a couple of milk-goats. Frightened faces peered at them from doorways. Opal got out, took a quick look around, and then pointed underneath one of the houses.