Depths of Blue Read online

  Torrin cast desperate eyes over at the general, who nodded to her gravely. His eyes danced over the rim of his glass as he took a final swig.

  “You bastard,” she railed. “If I’d known this was part of your plan, you would be looking at a forty-nine–fifty-one split for sure.”

  “That’s why a good negotiator always keeps something back,” he replied.

  * * *

  Once again they were back in a small transport, but this time they were finally headed back to camp. It wasn’t really home and probably never would be. Jak certainly couldn’t let her guard down there, but she would finally be able to get some sleep. After three more days of dosing, the stims were working their way out of her system. Torrin had found out that she was still taking them, and some idiot had told her all about the possible side effects. The lecture she’d gotten as a result had blistered her ears. It had only ended when she pointed out that men didn’t scream at other men, especially not in so shrill a tone. Not that Torrin had admitted to screaming, but the accusation had cut her off.

  Torrin sat across from her, pointedly not looking at her, and Jak took the opportunity to watch the smuggler closely. Her hair was completely shorn away, leaving only an auburn buzz cut. Jak didn’t understand how anyone could think she was a man. Even with short hair and bound breasts, Torrin was given away by high cheekbones, full lips and eyes so deep she could have drowned in them. Jak missed the long strands, but she understood the need for secrecy. Even though she missed her long hair, Torrin still exercised a powerful attraction over her that she could no longer deny.

  “Are you quite finished?” Torrin asked waspishly. “You don’t have to make a big deal of it. The hair’s gone. I look like a lout.”

  “The hair is gone,” Jak said, looking away. “You don’t have being a guy down, though. Not really.” Still, Jak supposed, she was proof that people saw what they wanted to. At least with Torrin’s height and broad shoulders she was somewhat believable as a soldier.

  “What would you know about it?”

  Quite a lot, as it turns out. “It’s the mannerisms. You don’t have them quite right,” Jak explained earnestly. “Stop trying to prove that you’re not a girl. You’re a guy now, and you don’t have to prove anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, like your walk. You’re rolling your hips when you walk. Try turning your feet out and swinging your shoulders when you walk, instead of your hips.”

  “Oh sure,” Torrin snorted. “It’s as easy as that. I’d like to see you try to pull off being a woman.”

  So would I, Jak thought. It had been more than ten years since she’d been Jakellyn Stowell. Even then, her father had teased her about having more of a boy’s nature than a girl’s. He hadn’t cared, though, and when he’d decided that it was too dangerous for her to retain her true identity, her boyish tendencies had worked to their advantage.

  “You’re right, I don’t know the first thing about passing for a woman,” Jak admitted truthfully. “I’m not sure I could pull it off.” And how sad is that?

  Torrin seemed slightly mollified and went back to her epic sulk. Jak settled herself into the transport’s wooden seat and prepared to take a light nap. Though the stims had started to work their way out of her system, they hadn’t dissipated to the point where she would be able to get any sustained sleep. Hopefully, if she napped a little, she wouldn’t have to sleep for so long when they got back to camp. She’d timed her last dose to wear off a couple of hours after their return.

  “You finally stop taking those damn stims?”

  “I had my last one about twelve hours ago,” Jak replied without opening her eyes. “When we get back, I’ll have to sleep for a few days. Try not to piss anyone off.”

  “Me?” Torrin seemed genuinely surprised. “I get along with pretty much everyone.”

  Jak snorted. “Sure you do. Everyone who doesn’t have a penis.”

  “That’s not true. I get along quite well with some of the men. General Callahan and Lieutenant Smythe, for example. Once they got over threatening to kill me, they were quite…agreeable.”

  Jak could hear the smirk in her voice and cracked an eye open just wide enough to see Torrin leaning back with a smug smile like a banner across her face. She looked supremely self-satisfied. The negotiations must have gone well. Jak found herself grinning in response. Torrin caught her watching and blushed, quickly averting her gaze. That was interesting.

  “You know we’ll be bunking next door to each other.” As soon as the words left her lips, Jak kicked herself. Why had she even mentioned that? What did she think she was doing, trying to set up a date? That would work well. Even if Torrin was interested, and she was getting signals that she was, it would all fall in on her when the smuggler discovered she was no man. No, it would be better to try to foster some distance between them. She was the primary planner for Torrin’s insertion into enemy territory. She would have to be all business to pull off the operation.

  “Sure, sounds like fun,” Torrin said. “Maybe we can have a slumber party.”

  Now it was Jak’s turn to blush and avert her eyes. A mental image of Torrin dressed in pajama bottoms and camisole bloomed in her imagination. A powerful surge of arousal blew through her, leaving her speechless.

  “Pillow fights, truth or dare. I know, we’ll do each other’s hair,” Torrin gushed, either not knowing or not caring about the effect she was having on Jak. “Of course that part won’t take very long.”

  “Umm, sure,” Jak said. She slouched down in her seat until her chin touched her chest. Those feelings were again wreaking havoc within her. Torrin’s irresistible pull and the guilt of her upbringing clashed. Her loins throbbed painfully. She just wanted Torrin’s touch on her. In her. Anywhere. Everywhere.

  She yawned ostentatiously and closed her eyes. To all appearances she looked like she was napping, but her mind churned. Guilt and intense arousal kept her from napping for the rest of the ride.

  * * *

  Jak had dozed most of the way back to the camp. Torrin was glad to see he was getting some sleep, finally, but she missed having him to talk to even though she couldn’t seem to stop herself from snapping at him every time he opened his mouth. They’d been the only ones in the back of the transport, and there had been very little to see. She didn’t do especially well with boredom so when they finally pulled into the camp, she was more than a little irritable.

  The back door was opened by that idiot with a mustache, McCullock. She brushed past him with a disdainful glance. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d tried to railroad Jak by not calling in on the sniper being overdue. He smiled at her, showing a little too much teeth.

  “Stowell,” he bellowed, sticking his head through the door. “Get your ass out of there now!”

  Jak blinked at him sleepily and roused himself from the corner of the transport’s cab. “Coming, sir.” He sketched a salute in the air and pulled himself out of the vehicle.

  Camp Abbott was much less impressive than Fort Marshall had been. From where they stood, Torrin could make out the tops of the walls around them. They looked like they’d originally been built to be temporary structures, but necessity had dictated that they serve long beyond their intended lifespan. Masonry had cracked and was flaking away in more than one place, revealing the structure beneath. The interior roads were set up on a strict grid, but they were all packed dirt. The wind blew gusts of dust from one side of the road to the other. The whole place had the overall air of a shelf in desperate need of tidying. All the objects were placed just so, but they’d been abused for so long that her primary impression was one of neglect.

  Soldiers roamed the streets here as they had at the fort. These soldiers had seen military action and recently. Some of them sported bandages and the too-pink patches of newly regenerated skin. They weren’t nearly as buttoned down and pretty as the ones she’d seen at the fort. Most of them wore combat fatigues that had seen heavy and repeated use. They weren
’t slovenly, just worn. The only one who looked like he’d recently pressed his uniform was McCullock. By the looks the passing soldiers gave him when he wasn’t looking, they felt as much disdain for the captain as she did.

  “Let’s get you to the barracks.” McCullock led them to a long, low building at the corner of a complex made up of a dozen similarly shaped buildings. He walked up the steps and held the door open for her.

  Jak rolled his eyes. “We’re supposed to be treating Corporal Compton like any other soldier, sir.” McCullock just sneered at him and gestured Torrin through before letting the door close in Jak’s face. He stared at McCullock through the door’s screen before pulling it open and following them.

  McCullock led them most of the way down a long hall and indicated a door. “That’s your room. Stowell is located right next to you, on the end. Typically, men bunk two to a room in this unit, but given your ‘special circumstances’ we thought that would be asking for trouble.”

  Jak had already opened the door to his room and was stepping through it.

  “That goes for you, Stowell,” McCullock called after him. “No fraternization.”

  Jak paused, then regarded him levelly. “That would be disgusting and illegal sir.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” McCullock blustered in return.

  Jak turned to face her. “Two soldiers from another unit were caught—”

  “Fucking!” McCullock spat, spittle flying from under his mustache. “They should have put the two deviants to the firing squad, but the judge was ‘merciful.’” He sneered. “They’ll spend the rest of their days performing forced labor. Keep them too busy for that kind of bullshit.”

  Backward much? Torrin rolled her eyes mentally but kept her face impassive. Like it was any of his business who they had chosen to sleep with. More than ever, she was glad she would soon be leaving this provincial little backwater.

  He glared at Jak. “I won’t hesitate to make sure that you get the same or worse. So keep your hands off h-him.” Mustache twitching, he gave Torrin a broad smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you.”

  Was he trying to impress her? Protect her, maybe? He was working very hard at being charming to her, but his treatment of Jak was disgusting. For his part, Jak just stood there and took it.

  “That’s…great, Captain.” She smiled at him wanly. “Now if you don’t mind, it’s been a long few days and I want some sleep.”

  “Of course, of course. And please, call me Jagger.” He smiled at her again. If she hadn’t seen him rip into Jak moments ago, she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of such venom. “Don’t let me keep you up. I will have your duty rotation brought to you. You will be engaging in some light training duties. The men will talk if you’re closed up in your room the entire time you’re here.” He gave her a funny little bow, glared again at Jak and left.

  “You look like you’re about to fall over,” Torrin said.

  “Stims are almost out of my system. I can barely keep my eyes open.” Jak looked terrible. The circles under his eyes were so dark that he seemed to be staring at her from two black eyes. His skin had taken on an unnatural pallor, and he leaned on the doorframe of her room. “I won’t be able to look out for you for the next few days. You need to play this one smart.”

  “I’m all about smart. I can take care of myself.” Jak slid gently forward along the wall and Torrin reached out to steady him. “I took down two guards and almost made a break for it.”

  “I heard.” Jak yawned hugely. “One of those guys still couldn’t breathe through his nose when we left, even after the doctors fixed him up.” He gave her a tired smile. “You left an impression.”

  “Now I know you’re in trouble. The Jak I know would never make such a terrible joke.” Actually, the Jak she knew would never in his right mind make any kind of joke, let alone one that bad.

  “All right, I’m out. Remember, be good.” He pushed away from the wall and slouched over to his room.

  “You have no idea,” Torrin said to his retreating back. But I want you to. A weary wave was the only response to her sally. Opening the door, she entered the room that was to be hers for the next while. It was beyond spartan. Two narrow beds lined the walls on either side of the room. Two very small writing desks stood at the foot of each bed. A cable came out of the wall above each desk. She picked one up and turned the end over in her hands. There was no way she’d be able to use it without some sort of input jack on her body. There was nothing for her to do. First things first. She really did need a nap. Once she’d rested properly, she could check out what else this little dump of a camp had to offer.

  Chapter Twenty

  “So what the hell are you thinking, anyway?”

  Jak looked over in time to catch Bron’s cheeky grin. He dropped the spotter’s scope to his chest and regarded her with great amusement. His face was distinct, crisp, but the background looked faded and smudged, indistinct. The blond of his hair and brilliant blue of his eyes were the only color. All others colors disappeared into a faded tone of sepia.

  Not again, she thought. I can’t do this right now.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. Wake up, wake up, she screamed inside her head. Dimly, she could sense her body thrashing, but it was as if it belonged to someone else.

  “That girl.” Bron raised the scope back up to his eyes and scanned a far-off ridge. “She’s nothing but trouble.”

  “She’s fine.”

  “You bet she’s fine!” Still looking through the scope, Bron whistled. “That’s the problem. All you see is that fine ass and those boobs.”

  Glowering, Jak ducked her head to look through the scope on her rifle. She knew what was coming. Every time she had this dream it ended the same way, but that never stopped her from trying to end it before it ran its course. Somewhere out there was the sniper who was stalking them.

  “You need to turn on your cloak,” she replied acerbically.

  “Don’t try to change the subject.” He reached around to the front of his neck and twisted on the control for the cloaking device. Abruptly, he disappeared from view. All she could see was a faint shimmer, like the air over a hot roof in the summer. “She’s not for you or you for her.”

  “Your cloak’s glitching out. You should reset it.”

  “I’m fine. Stop trying to change the subject.” She heard his grin widen and ducked her head to peer through the scope again.

  “Would it be so terrible if I wanted her? She’s amazing, and I feel alive when I’m with her. For the past two years, it feels like someone took my emotions, locked them away at the bottom of a trunk and then dropped the trunk into the deepest part of the ocean. With her I feel things. I feel things for her.”

  He snorted. “It’s not right, you know that. What would Dad say? He’d be destroyed that you took all he did for you just for you throw it away on someone who doesn’t even have the right equipment.”

  “That’s not fair,” Jak protested. Was that a flash of red among the trees? She dialed in on the area. For the first time since she’d started having the dream she could finally make out details other than trees through the scope. Her heart thundered in her ears, and she willed her galloping pulse to slow. “I can’t help it. I didn’t want this to happen, but since the first time I saw her, there was something…” She continued to scan the far foliage. “Know what I mean, Bron? Bron??”

  He didn’t answer. She slowly turned her head, knowing and dreading what was going to happen next. She made eye contact with him just as his throat disappeared in a fountain of gore. Red drowned the landscape. Gone were the blond of his hair and the electric blue of his eyes. A fine mist of blood slicked her face. She could taste it; it coated the inside of her nostrils.

  “Bron. Bron!” Jak screamed.

  “BRON!” She sat straight up in bed, naked chest heaving. Panicked, she pulled the blanket up to cover her breasts. She couldn’t remember getting into bed, l
et alone getting undressed. Apparently she’d been so tired she’d taken everything off, including her shirt and breast binder. After a quick glance at the door, she heaved a sigh of relief. At least she’d had the presence of mind to wedge a chair under the door handle. Over the years, she’d learned that she had to take the breast binder off on occasion or she experienced some fairly nasty consequences. Whenever she did so, she made sure to barricade the door in addition to locking it.

  She slapped a palm over the light panel next to the bed and looked around. Her eyes fell on the mess on Bron’s side of her room and her throat constricted. Tears prickled in her eyes and she cleared her throat angrily. Two years in and it still felt like he’d been taken from her the day before. With Torrin, some of the pain had receded. She’d finally had something else—someone else—to worry about. The room suddenly felt much too small. She had to get out and find Torrin.

  First things first, though. Four days of sleep had her thirsty as hell. The supplements she took before the stim-crash kept her hydrated enough that she wouldn’t die, but she always felt like she could drink a few liters of water when she woke up. Without bothering with a glass, she drank directly from the receptacle of water that was on the desk next to her bed. She drank deeply for a few moments before she came up, gasping for air.

  Jak leaned over the side of the bed as she tried to figure out where her breast binder had ended up. It wasn’t readily visible. She grumbled as she slid her legs over the edge and stood. Sleep had really helped; she felt more rested than she had in weeks. What day is it? Pulling a clean pair of underwear out of the footlocker at the head of the bed, she pulled them on, followed by a pair of fatigue pants. The location of the binder continued to elude her.

  As she was getting on her knees to check under the bed, she heard a loud thud as a substantial object hit the wall next to her. Whatever it was made an impact hard enough to shake the bed. Jak stared blankly at the wall.