Page 35 of Alien Mercenary’s Wife (Lathar Mercenaries: Warborne #7)

T 'Raal crouched in the shadow of a transport hub three blocks from the courthouse.

Every instinct screamed that he shouldn't be here.

Earth was hostile territory—Imperial bloodline, mercenary reputation, enough warrants to fill a database.

But watching Reese walk into that courthouse alone had been impossible.

He'd left Red in orbit with strict orders to maintain position.

"I should be down there with you," she'd argued, scales rippling with frustration.

"Too many people saw that extraction video. Half the humans think you're some kind of war goddess." He'd checked his sidearms, making sure they were concealed. "You show up here, every intelligence agency in human space will be crawling over this place."

"And you think you're less recognizable?"

Valid point. Latharian features weren't common in human cities, and his size made blending in a challenge. But at least he could pass for a civilian if nobody looked too closely.

The street buzzed with urban energy. Humans hurried past with focused determination. Most avoided eye contact, following unwritten survival rules that kept strangers at a distance.

Some noticed him anyway.

Teenagers near a food vendor had been stealing glances for ten minutes. Their whispered conversation carried fragments his enhanced hearing caught. "—definitely Lathar—" "—think he's Imperial—" "—probably just a trader?—"

Three blocks away, another Latharian moved through the crowd.

It wasn't unusual to see Latharians in the major cities of planets they had treaties with, but this one moved oddly.

His path seemed off, and he joined another warrior who had taken position near the courthouse perimeter.

Close enough to observe, far enough to avoid attention.

He frowned. Coincidence was possible, but he'd long ago learned to trust paranoia over optimism.

The courthouse loomed ahead with its imposing steps and columns. The usual mix of lawyers, plaintiffs, and reporters moved around.

From his position, T'Raal could see the main entrance clearly. Security checkpoints controlled access to the building. Guards with military bearing and high-end scanners suggested someone expected trouble.

His comm chimed with an encrypted message from Red. "Status update?"

"Waiting," he replied.

"Movement on the courthouse perimeter. Three teams, professional spacing. You seeing this?"

T'Raal shifted position, using the crowd as cover. Red was right—these weren't civilians. They moved too well, with that look of expensive training. The cleanup crew for a guess.

"Copy that," he replied. "Maintaining overwatch."

The courthouse doors opened. People streamed down the steps as proceedings concluded. T'Raal's attention sharpened, scanning faces for the one that mattered more than his safety.

There.

Reese emerged from the columns' shadow. Even at this distance, he saw exhaustion carved into her features. It looked like the hearing had beaten her down, but she was walking okay. The neural stimulator was still working.

She wasn't alone. Two people flanked her as they descended the steps. A spike of jealousy hit him as he watched the strangers at her side. The woman was tall, blonde, and moved like Reese did. Mason. The veteran Reese had mentioned.

The male was shorter, younger, with brown hair, and had a visible tremor in his left hand. Hughes—Reese's former comms specialist. But what made T'Raal's jaw tighten was the way Reese had her hand on the younger man's shoulder as they walked down the steps. Jealousy burned through him like fire.

But then he saw how she guided Hughes around a crack in the stone. It wasn't attraction—it was protection. The same instinct that made her fight impossible battles for people she'd commanded. She was taking care of someone who needed care.

Pride bloomed in his chest. That was his female.

Movement at the courthouse perimeter caught his attention. Three vehicles had taken position around the building. They looked like regular security transport, but their positioning was too perfect.

And the teams Red had spotted were moving.

He counted six operatives converging on the courthouse steps from different directions. They flowed through the crowd without drawing attention. Draanth. The hunters were closing in.

Draanth.

He keyed his comm. "Red, I need immediate extraction protocols. Multiple hostiles moving on the package."

Static.

He tried again, adjusting frequencies. "Red, respond immediately. This is priority alpha."

Nothing but electronic hash filled his earpiece. The signal was being actively jammed—crude, brute-force interference that screamed human technology.

Ice flooded his veins. Cut off. Isolated. Every warrior's nightmare in hostile territory. His heart hammered against his ribs as the reality crashed over him—no fire support, no extraction, no backup whatsoever. Just him against a coordinated corporate hit team with Reese as their target.

He was moving before he thought about it, taking long strides to eat up the distance as he pushed through pedestrian traffic toward the courthouse. Such a small distance had never seemed so far. The security checkpoint at the base of the steps might as well have been on another planet.

"Sir, could you step over here for a moment?" A human security guard tried to step into his way. "Just a few routine questions."

Bullshit. They were trying to pin him down while they grabbed Reese.

At the courthouse, the first team made its move. Uniformed figures approached Reese's group. They looked official, but moved all wrong. They were too aggressive.

He shoved past the security guard.

"Sir! Sir, you need to ? —"

He broke into a run.

Another guard stepped into his path, hand moving to his weapon, but T'Raal didn't slow down. He slammed his shoulder into the guard's, sending him sprawling across the sidewalk. Pedestrians scattered, voices rising in alarm.

Two hundred meters to the courthouse. He could make it if?—

A third guard appeared from nowhere, taser already aimed. T'Raal twisted away from the first shot, electrical prongs sparking against pavement where he'd been standing. He grabbed the operative's wrist, twisting until it cracked. The taser clattered away.

Behind him, the first operative was shouting into his comm. "Target is mobile! Repeat, target is mobile and moving toward the package!"

Package. Reese.

He vaulted over a low barrier, cutting across a small plaza toward the courthouse steps. One hundred fifty meters. He could see Reese clearly now, her body language changing as she spotted the team approaching.

She stepped slightly in front of Hughes, Mason moving to flank their group, creating better defensive positioning from pure reflex. But they were civilians now. Worse, they were injured veterans facing professional operators.

T'Raal's comm crackled with Red's voice. "Boss, multiple teams converging on your position. You've got company coming from three directions."

One hundred meters to the courthouse steps.

The lead operative reached Reese's group, flashing official identification. T'Raal couldn't hear the conversation, but he could read body language. Whatever bullshit story they were selling, his female wasn't buying it. Mason tried to step in and got shut down fast.

Fifty meters.

T'Raal saw Reese's face change, and her hand moved toward the concealed weapon he'd insisted she carry.

Then she stopped, and he could read her thought processes as though she were telepathic.

There were too many of the enemy. Hughes and Mason would get caught in the crossfire, along with countless civilians.

She was going to comply.

Twenty meters.

"Reese!" He bellowed across the plaza.

Every head turned toward him. Reese's face flooded with relief and terror in equal measure.

"Target has backup!" someone shouted. "All teams, move now!"

The lead operative grabbed Reese's arm, no longer bothering with polite requests. "Ma'am, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit acts of terrorism."

"What?" Reese's voice carried shock and outrage. "That's bullshit and you know it!"

Two more operatives moved on Hughes and Mason simultaneously. "Hughes, Daniel. Mason, Charlotte. You're also under arrest for conspiracy and sedition against federal interests."

"This is insane!" Mason snarled, but didn't resist as they cuffed her. "We're veterans seeking medical compensation!"

T'Raal hit the courthouse steps at a dead run, covering ground in desperate strides. But more operatives appeared from concealment, moving to intercept him. Too many, too well-coordinated.

A taser caught him in the middle of his chest. Electricity coursed through his nervous system, muscles seizing as he crashed to the stone steps. Through blurred vision, he saw all three veterans being dragged toward separate waiting vehicles.

"T'Raal!" Reese's voice carried a note of desperation as she fought against the operatives forcing her toward an armored transport. "T'Raal!"

Hughes stumbled, his damaged leg giving out, but the operatives hauled him upright and continued toward a second vehicle. Mason fought harder, but she was outnumbered and outgunned.

He tried to rise, tried to reach them, but his body wouldn't obey. The taser's aftereffects left him twitching on the courthouse steps while corporate operatives completed their mission like a well-oiled machine.

"Terrorist conspiracy charges," the lead operative announced loudly enough for nearby reporters to hear. "Multiple counts of sedition and conspiracy against federal interests."

Complete fabrication. A show for the media.

T'Raal watched helplessly as they forced all three veterans into separate transports. Reese met his eyes through her vehicle's window, mouthing words he couldn't hear but understood anyway.

Find me.