Page 60 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
"Too convenient," Mira added through the comm. "Right when we come looking for information?"
Pride rolled through him. She was smart and perfect. And allhis.
"Got it." Anson's voice cut in. "Security loop created. Building system thinks apartment 47B is still secured but unoccupied. Security alert system is in standby mode. You've got twenty minutes before the system runs its next verification protocol."
"Understood." He pushed away from the wall. "Covak, we're up."
The Vorrtan nodded, amber eyes gleaming in the low light.
Mira's voice was low. "Davis, this is a massive risk. Be careful, okay?"
"Always," he replied. The security panel blinked green as they reached the apartment door. It slid open silently, and they stepped inside.
A wall of scent hit him as alien forensic chemicals and preservation agents assaulted his senses. Beneath them was the metallic tang of blood, days old but still there. His nostrils flared, automatically sorting the smells… antiseptic, energy blast residue, brain matter.
He glanced at Covak, who nodded, pistol already in his big hand. He'd smelled it too.
"We're in," he said quietly for Mira's benefit as the apartment's main living area spread before him. The furnishings were sparse, functional with a distinctly clean Latharian aesthetic. Drawers had been pulled out and the cushions from the couches were thrown on the floor. "Looks like the place has been gone over pretty thoroughly."
“Yeah. Just… keep your eyes open and look around slowly, I might spot something you miss.”
"Yes, boss."
They moved through the apartment methodically, making sure their eyecams caught everything: small scratches on the floor where somebody had moved furniture repeatedly, and headed into the barely used kitchen. He paused halfway across the room and used the muzzle of his pistol to lift the lid on the waste disposal…
“Looks like Laaer ate out a lot of the time,” Mira murmured in his ear as they swept out of the kitchen, checking the bathroom and moving on into the bedroom. Like the other rooms, it contained nothing personal, just the essentials.
The study was different, though. The moment they walked in, they both stopped short. The atmosphere hung heavy with death. The room looked clean at first glance, but the cam lens picked up what cleaning hadn't erased… a spray pattern of blood and gray matter on the wall behind the desk, still clinging to microscopic imperfections in the surface.
"Covak." He nodded toward the wall.
The Vorrtan narrowed his eyes, examining the pattern. "Yeah. Got it. Energy weapon. Close range." He pointed to the slight discoloration. "Impact pattern's all wrong for self-inflicted."
"Yeah. This was an execution," Davis agreed, the word bitter on his tongue. Rage rolled through him, his hands curling into fists. Someone had killed their loose end, covered their tracks, and removed one more path to the answers he needed.
"What are you seeing?" Mira asked through the comm, her voice pulling him back to the present.
"Blood spatter," he replied grimly. "Laaer didn't kill himself. He was shot. It was made to look like suicide."
"Oh shit," she whispered.
Covak headed to the desk, examining the research terminal and flicking through dataflexes. Davis inhaled deeply, picking up a new scent: fear.Shit. Laaer had been terrified before he died.
"These are all botanical research," Covak said after scanning several documents. "Indigenous plant adaptations. Nothing about genetics at all. Nothing worth killing him over. Not unless you've got a hard-on for plants."
"His cover story," Davis muttered, frustration building again. "Time check," Anson's voice came through. "Fourteen minutes remaining."
Davis waved his eyecam off. "Mira, we're going dark for a minute. Covak's going to try accessing the research terminal."
"Wait—" Mira's protest cut off as he disabled his comm unit as well. The sudden absence of her voice left a hollow feeling in his chest, but the protective impulse won out. If something went wrong, she didn't need to witness it.
"She's going to be pissed," Covak said, pulling a bypass unit to connect to the terminal.
"Better than having her watch if security bursts in and offs us."
"True." Covak's fingers moved with surprising speed across the interface. "Terminal's been wiped. Recently." He frowned. "But not completely. Someone was in a hurry."
"Can you recover anything?" Davis circled the desk. Every second ticking away brought them closer to another dead end, another delay in understanding what was happening to him.
