Free FORT LIBERTY: VOLUME ONE by M Orenda Page B

angrier now. “But it’s no great comfort, coming from an Assaulter who’s Earthbound in expertise. No great shame in having secrets. I carry cargo on the low, so I expect lying. I’ve got no suppliers, no clients, who don’t lie, and plenty of situations which call for it on my part, so we can just call this regular business, but a captain’s got to know what’s on the ship she runs through check stations. Got to know, and got to plan for it.”
    “Knowing this would put you at greater risk.”
    “Of what? No one attacks Rhys Corp people—kills nor does damage—except for terrorists, and they’re all Earthbound.”
    He doesn’t answer that, which is answer enough.
    “You son-of-a-bitch.” She pushes, drifts closer, within easy reach of his collar, tempted to grab hold and give violent reprimand. “We don’t have security on this vessel. We’re unshielded, unarmed, when we’re in big sky. You had a half-dozen other ships to choose from, some with thicker hulls, and all with captains more deserving of jeopardy… and you float through my airlock, look me in the eye, and bring me into trouble like that? Why? Why my ship?”
    He’s calm, his answer unapologetic and filled with facts, as if she’d asked for facts. “You were the less obvious choice, so safer. Your previous flight records made it seem less likely that you would get boarded.”
    “Deductive man brilliance then?”
    “I chose you because you’re good at what you do,” he says, intent on making the point. “And I need you to know that I’m good at what I do. That has to be an understanding between us.”
    Maybe it’s a threat, but it could also pass for reassurance, and almost sounds like it’s meant to be taken in whatever way works best. Petra glares at him, temper bright, fists clenched, and still no truth between them, other than the knowledge of what power he’s got to do whatever he wants, and what power she hasn’t got to stop him… the man with the Rhys Corp auth key.
    “Nothing’s changed,” he says, softer now. “We reach red orbit, and you’ll get paid exactly what you want. And, in the meantime, I promise you that I will do everything within my power to make sure that no harm comes to you, your cargo, or your ship. Don’t fight me for more, Petra. You don’t want to do that.”
    “No?” she growls, kicking off the corner of a crate and nailing him in the chin with a right uppercut. The force spins them apart and he sails backward, thumping against a crate. It’s a soft thump, and he rights himself, glowering, his hand moving up to work his jaw in irritation.
    She runs her fingers along the netting and pushes forward again, drifting toward him, prepared to set it all straight. “You think you can threaten me, and I’ll just cower down and accept such… from you? I’ve fought a few wars of my own, with no such budget as what Rhys Corp can afford—some of which included out-thinking smarter men than you, and burying them too.”
    “Okay,” he says, putting one hand up, open palm, like he’s going to catch the next hit before it lands. “Petra—”
    “Captain,” she hisses, swinging again out of pure anger.
    This time, he catches her wrist and whips her around, tucking her body underneath his and holding her fast. There’s no moving, and no purchase to be gained from trying, but she tries anyway, attempting to jab her way free.
    “Easy,” he says, not giving an inch. “I’m not trying to threaten you, Captain. I’m trying to work with you. I’m paying for passage on this vessel, a certain kind of passage, and then my team and I are gone… no need to outsmart us, or kill us in our sleep. If you’d just listen—”
    She bites his hand because it’s close enough.
    “Shit,” he swears, adjusting his grip without letting go. “Spitfire.”
    “Let go.”
    “When you’re calm. Breathe.”
    Breathe? She pushes against him, grits her teeth and tries to shove, cursing him until she’s got nothing