Free Recon Marines III: The Marine's Doctor by Susan Kelley Page A

to
the star chart table. He examined it closely, finding it wired to
the touch pad for scrolling through searches. The exact information
he’d hoped to find.
    With a sigh, Mak took a small knife
from his belt and set to work on the explosive. The bomb was crude
and designed more for stealth than complexity. It took only two
minutes to disarm it. Dewell, a planet on the far side of this same
galaxy, had been entered as a destination for the last five ships
that had left this station nearly two years past.
    Mak finally went to the communications
station and knelt to look at the trap Pender had set off. His
stomach tightened when he saw the live explosive still connected to
the switch. Perhaps because of a faulty setup or the passing of
time, only the preliminary charge had fired. Though it had caused
extensive damage to Pender’s arm, if the main bomb had gone off, it
would certainly have killed the soldier and maybe even
Mak.
    He stood up and looked around some
more. The command center had dozens of other stations that had
controlled everything from the shipping dock to power usage on the
lower levels. One long stretch of old computers managed the
scanners, their screens filled with empty space from all quadrants.
There could be another hundred booby traps hidden about.
    Mak retraced his steps, avoiding the
splashes of blood on his way to the stairs. Damn his carelessness.
If he and Pender had been killed, it would have left the doctors
stranded out here on the edge of communications range with little
shipping activity.
    The doctors still surrounded Pender
when Mak returned to the ship. He stayed out of the way and went to
his room where he stripped out of his blood-soaked pants and shirt.
After a brief shower, he put the stained clothing in the washer
tubes. They would be clean and dry within two hours. He dressed in
his black outfit, the one reserved for night work but it suited his
mood.
    Corporal Box sat in the copilot’s
chair on the bridge, staring at the scanners. The man’s stiff
posture spoke of tension and perhaps fear. Apparently escorting
science teams through space didn’t prepare soldiers like Box for
emergencies. He looked over at Mak as Mak settled into the pilot’s
seat.
    “ Plot a course for the
nearest place with a good-sized port. Military or civilian. We’ll
leave as soon as the doctors are ready.”
    “ Yes, sir.”
    At least the last few hours’ events
had knocked the attitude from the corporal. Mak still wished he
could replace Box, but that could wait. He walked back toward the
lab, his steps slow with regret. What if they’d had to take
Pender’s arm off? One couldn’t pilot a ship like this one with one
arm and not even the best prosthesis could replace the sensitive
fingertips needed to navigate through a meteor storm. Mak cursed
himself again.
    Molly stood beside Pender, adding
something to his IV while the other two doctors washed up at the
sink. She swung her gaze to Mak, fatigue darkening her hazel eyes
to the color of old moss. “He’ll be fine with a scar to brag about
to the ladies.”
    “ Brag? Carelessness caused
that scar.”
    “ I’m sure he’ll leave out
how careless he was.” Molly smiled.
    “ I was the careless one. I
reacted too slowly to stop him.”
    “ Mak, it’s not your
fault.” Molly’s smiled melted into a frown.
    He sighed. “I felt something wrong
here from before we landed. I should have gone upstairs by
myself.”
    “ Then you would be the one
lying on the table.”
    Mak thought she looked serious. “No, I
wouldn’t. I would have seen the trap. I won’t be so careless from
now on. I promise.”
    Molly put her hand around his wrist
and led him toward the door. “This is not your fault. We all knew
this trip could be dangerous. Pender is a soldier. He knows every
mission could result in injury.”
    “ My orders from the
general was to keep danger from you.”
    “ And you have. Pender will
make a full recovery.”
    Mak knew she was wrong.