Page 75 of Enthraller

There was nothing Wren could do about that right now.

“Time is wasting,” Ed murmured, taking a step toward the stairs. “We’ll be in touch, Lieutenant.” He gave Bartam a sketchy salute.

“If you find out anything about the other warehouse, that’s priority,” Bartam called after them.

Pontia’s partner thought she knew where it was, and Wren guessed that’s where she’d head as soon as she picked up her freighter from the port.

Wren ran faster.

29

The hover portwas still on high alert after the laser strike, although Wren was sure at least one of the battleships was parked directly over it in nearspace.

No one’s reputation would withstand a second strike.

The freighter section was not at full capacity, and Wren couldn’t help but grin. “We’ve unknowingly made our lives easier,” she said.

“How’s that?” Ed asked. He picked up her amusement, and was looking at her with a gleam in his eye.

“There’s a line of freighters waiting to land in nearspace, but we delayed them with our scans, and then the laser strike delayed them even more. So there are half the number of ships for us to check.”

“There’s still a lot.” Ed stopped, looking down the neat row of freighters lined up on the loading docks.

“She’s on her own, so I’m guessing it’s a small rig.” Wren studied the candidates, dismissing anything too big.

“True,” Ed murmured. “And there she is.”

A woman in a dark gray flight suit walked across a slender docking arm, head down, and entered a code to gain access to one of the smallest freighters in the line.

Wren and Ed sprinted toward it, hitting the docking arm as it started to whine, warming up to retract.

Their weight stopped the process, and the system reset.

Thank goodness for safety measures, Wren thought, slapping a hand against the small keypad on the freighter’s entrance. Her nanos did something to it—from the burning smell, something permanent—and the door slid open.

Ed went first, laz in hand, and she came up behind him, grabbed his jacket in her fist, and tugged him back.

He looked over his shoulder at her, face both confused and irritated, and she held his gaze with a steady look. “She has a laz, remember. She shot Pontia.”

Ed frowned, and then Wren let her nanos shimmer into the silver bands at her wrists, and he moved up against the wall of the passage, and with a sigh, let her go first.

She followed the short corridor to the front of the ship, and the flare of laz fire lit up around her as she stepped into what on a bigger ship would be called the bridge.

Her nanos deflected, and they had to have been thinking about it, because they deflected the shot directly back at the woman, and she went down.

The rebound isn’t as strong as the original shot, they told Wren.But it’s strong enough to do some harm.

“That’s some laz protection,” the woman said, curled up on the floor, holding her arm.

Ed moved past Wren and scooped up her dropped laz.

“We knew you were armed, we had a few words with your friend near the warehouse,” Wren said.

“My friend?” she frowned. “Ah, Pontia. That’s not what he called himself, surely?” She compressed her lips.

“And you are?” Ed asked, holding his laz steady.

“Evette Linao,” she said. “And you’re Wren Thorakis and Ed Zeneri. You’re been quite the disruptive force, haven’t you?”

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