“Sure, you’ll see. Stun, well, it hurts, but it’s quick. Stupefy, that’s the toughie. A neuro-drug is injected into the bloodstream, which dulls the response time, sends you into a suggestive state similar to a hypnotic trance. Then the strip and body search to check for sequestered contraband.”
Her jaw dropped lower as he described each stage of the process.
“After that, it’s easy. I zap you into a cryo tube and you snooze in the liquid freezer all the way to the federal justice center, where you’ll be tried and sentenced.”
The color drained from her face. “Please. Don’t.” She took a step back, glancing over her shoulder. The sass was gone along with a dramatic change in her tone of voice. Now, she was probably going to start cooperating.
He lowered his weapon slightly. “I said I’ll be nice. No stunning. No stupefying. But the strip search—”
“You can’t!”
“I have the authority. I have to produce a full report and in it, a detailed inspection. So, hands on your head, turn and walk to the air lock. Once we’re on my ship, we can make a start. I’m on a schedule.” He waved the gun toward the exit of the cargo bay.
“I won’t… you can’t…” she stuttered, her cheeks turning flaming red.
“It’s just the two of us, Jade. There’s no backup nearby, so if you don’t play by the rules, you get punished.”
“Punished!” she shrilled.
“Yes. I’ve a firm hand, take my word for it.” He hadn’t intended to sound quite so literal, but it was an idea. What if… no, not unless she really played up. “I don’t want any nonsense. I’ve cut you some slack, so show me what a good girl you can be and do as you’re told.”
“Why, you—” Her eyes narrowed into slits.
He raised his eyebrows, tempting her to finish the sentence. She snapped her jaw shut, raised her arms, and placed her hands on her head.
“You’re making a mistake,” she muttered.
“Possibly,” he replied, to himself, not her.
She marched down the corridor, back straight, shoulders squared off. He admired her swaying hips and the tight line of her pants over her ass. It was too good a sight; she was making him stiff, a completely inappropriate response. She was an alien, almost, kind of… a different planet, same species. His schoolteachers had taught him carnal matters were the same, too. He focused on the back of her head, telling himself she was no one special, just another fugitive.
Reaching the airlock, she halted. The speeder was designed for midgets and he had to squeeze through the small hatch when he’d boarded the craft.
“Duck your head,” Mason said. “I don’t want you hurting yourself.”
On the other side, they both straightened up. After a few steps along the tunnel, they approached the larger hatch joining their two ships. She hesitated, almost stumbling, while he activated the code to unlock the hatch. With his gun still aimed on her back, he followed her through, staying close on her heels.
It was probably her first time on board a Titan interceptor. It was nothing like her poky shuttle. As well as having one of the fastest drives in the sector, it had an outer hull that blended with its environment, effectively hiding it.
“Keep walking,” he said, indicating the corridor on her left.
She lowered her arms. “This is an interceptor—”
“Yep.”
“An older model, though. They replaced this one with the Delta version, didn’t they?”
He smothered a laugh. Jade had just insulted his pride, and yet, he wasn’t annoyed. “You think a marshal would be given a new interceptor? No, I earned it. I’m the highest ranked marshal in the sector. I got it after it was decommissioned from military service. Conveniently for me, Titan was used to transport troops or capture rebels, so it already had everything I need for holding fugitives. I’m the luckiest law enforcer, aren’t I? Most marshals are given the Chaser model. This way.” He held her elbow and guided her toward the detention suite.
If she’d been a male, by now she would be bound, drugged, and docile. Why hadn’t he treated her like the others? Had he finally succumbed to the effects of loneliness and wanted a companion?
He preferred to work alone. Marshals generally were loners. Cops liked working with teams, investigating and patrolling, whereas Mason wanted to hunt, capture, and bring the worst offenders to justice and it was easier to work undercover alone, creeping up on his unsuspecting targets without the hindrance of others. He’d recently dropped off six fugitives at the courts, two of them murderers. If he managed to get the last three on his list, he would have achieved the best capture rate in his unit and with it, the bonus he needed.
The problem was the last three were the most dangerous fugitives in the sector and unknown to Jade, his rotten ship was no longer in good shape. If one more thing went wrong with it, he’d have to ditch it and return to using the mediocre Chaser. The last intelligence report from his informants indicated the first of his fugitives was hiding out on Kalamar, but unlikely to stay there long. The second was supposed to be holed up on a border space station and the third… he’d no news on him.
She halted again, just by the entrance to the medical bay and pivoted on the balls of her toes to face him.
“What are you doing?”