Free Operation Hydra by Cyndi Friberg

condescending tone made her blood boil.
    Her hands clenched into fists as his bodyguards flanked her.
    “You’ll turn us into whores? You’re tired of watching us perform, so now you’ll be our pimp?”
    Hydran scowled. His guards grabbed her arms. “That’s not what I said,” he snapped. “Mr. Darrin was frustrated by your resistance. I assured him you’ll be less resistant this time.”
    “And you’ll keep Belle in stasis until I overcome my resistance? This is emotional blackmail. If I don’t let him —” One of the guards clapped his gloved hand over her mouth.
    “Let, sweet Krysta. That’s the operative word here. You will let him do only what you want him to do. There is nothing wrong with sex between consenting adults.”
    The guard’s hand remained over her mouth, while the other pushed her head forward, pressing her chin against her chest. She lunged and twisted, but they were strong and used to her tactics.
    “Stay back!” one of the guards commanded. “This doesn’t concern any of you.”
    Then, why the exhibition? Krysta challenged mentally. Do they have equalizers?
    Poised and ready, one of the elders responded.
    Then, stay back.
    She watched Hydran’s feet as he moved behind her. He swept her hair away from the nape of her neck and pressed something cold against her skin. It tingled, then burned.
    “Hold her still,” Hydran ordered. “Just a bit more, Krysta. Almost done.”
    The guards released her.
    “What was that?” she shrieked, reaching back with her hand. Even the lightest brush of her fingers stung her skin. “What did you give me?”
    Hydran tossed Belle’s monitor to her, smiling triumphantly. “Your date is waiting.”
    She swung at him, but one of the guards caught her arm.
    “Temper, temper,” Hydran said. “Why don’t you check on Belle?”
    The monitor beeped and vibrated. Krysta’s heart lurched and she frantically searched with her mind.
    Nothing.
    “Please,” she cried, “stop it.”
    With a chuckle, he made an adjustment on the control band encircling his wrist and the monitor returned to its previous rhythm. Belle’s presence, weak and unresponsive, reappeared within Krysta’s mind.
    She released her breath in a slow unsteady hiss and tucked the monitor into the seam pocket of her pants. “There are no words vile enough to describe you.”
    “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. Let’s go.”
    Pulses of encouragement and strength inundated her as she followed him from the ward.
     
    * * * * *
    Krysta didn’t say a word as they shuttled to his ship. Why was she so quiet? Where was the hellcat from ward B? Then Trey remembered surveillance equipment was likely attached to her clothes.
    “We’ll find you something more comfortable to wear as soon as we get to the ship.” He hoped she understood his meaning.
    Her expression didn’t change. This couldn’t be easy for her. Damn, it wasn’t easy for him. Hydran pulled the strings like a puppetmaster and they both felt compelled to dance. No, this had gone on long enough. He was finished playing Hydran’s twisted games. He would get her out of her clothes… into other clothes… and tell her some version of the truth. They had both been manipulated long enough. It was time for a counterattack.
    Trey took her directly to his cabin and snatched a long-sleeved shirt from his locker. “You know the drill.” He handed her the shirt. “Toss everything out to me and I’ll find you something more appropriate to wear.” He motioned toward the utility room and waited until he had her last scrap of clothing. “I can stop by the galley while I’m gone. Are you hungry?”
    “Thirsty.”
    Well, one-word answers were better than silence. After incinerating her clothing, he went to the bridge and scanned his cabin. She was still in the utility room and there was no evidence of a transmitter.
    “Commander Aune to Master Vee.” He waited impatiently for the Mystic to respond.
    “What can I do for