Page 18 of Double Take (Cosmic Mates #5)

Come on, Marshall, come on! Bragg prayed his CO would get back in time. They watched the monitor showing the feed around the spacecraft. Neither friend nor foe had approached the ship he’d left. Come on, Marshall, come on.

“How much time is left?” Faith asked.

“Five minutes,” he replied.

Tears of worry and fear slipped down her face. She’d insisted on hearing the truth about Amity, and he’d been unable to lie to her. He and Marshall had informed her Amity was probably dead, that Dark Ops would seek to eliminate witnesses.

“I need to know for sure,” she had insisted. “If she’s alive, I can’t leave her. I won’t leave her to be killed by those men!”

“It's too late. She’s gone,” Marshall stated bluntly and looked at Bragg for support.

“Most likely,” he had replied. He didn’t doubt it, but they didn’t have actual proof.

“Most likely? Then she could still be alive! We have to get her!”

Marshall had scowled at Bragg. “She’s gone, and we need to go.” He had stalked toward the bridge.

“I’m not leaving without Amity!” She ran for the gangway. “I’ll find her myself.”

Bragg intercepted her. “Faith, wait. Marshall is right.”

“I am not leaving my friend behind—or my cat.” Her eyes blazed with pain and anger. Don’t you understand? her look seemed to say.

His poor choice of words had given her false hope. If he’d been told she was “most likely” dead, no way would he have left. As long as he believed there was a chance she was alive, he wouldn’t leave. Amity was like a sister to Faith, and she loved her cat.

“You stay. I’ll check on her and get Rusty,” he said.

“You both stay! Are you insane? Don’t you realize they’re looking for you?” Marshall glared. “I’ll go. I’ll check her cottage and the shop and then I’ll get the damn cat, okay?”

“But…what if she’s not there—” Faith started to protest.

“Okay!” Bragg hurriedly agreed to the compromise. They couldn’t scour the entire planet, conduct an exhaustive search for someone who was dead. If Marshall found anything, it would be Amity’s body. Would Faith accept his word? “If you find, uh, her, you’ll need to bring…” Proof of death.

“I understand.” Marshall caught the gist right away. “Keep the gangway up. If I don’t return in half an hour, launch the ship, and get the hell out of here,” he’d instructed. “Rogers and Glenn will start searching the spaceport, if they haven’t already. The AI can provide you with my notes. It will give you instructions on where to go and what to do.” He stalked down the gangway, muttering, “This is what I get for trying to save his fucking ass.”

Bragg closed the gangway and led Faith to a ready room to watch and wait.

A movement on the monitor caught his attention. He peered closer and sucked in a breath as a hovercar zoomed in and landed next to the spacecraft. Was that Marshall or Rogers and Glenn?

He got to his feet. A man bounded out of the hovercar. “Marshall’s back!”

“Is Amity with him?”

He watched Marshall stride around the vehicle. Bragg couldn’t see through the tinted windows. His CO bent into the passenger side of the vehicle and pulled out a duffel, which he slung over his shoulder. No Amity. No cat.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He bent in again, and, this time, lugged out Amity’s limp body.

Fuck. When he’d suggested Marshall bring proof, he’d been thinking of a vid, not the body! This is going to kill Faith.

“Let me see!” She pushed forward to peer at the screen. “Oh, my god, that’s not—that’s not—Amity!” She let out a keening wail and bolted for the gangway.

Bragg ran after her. They lowered the gangway to admit Marshall.

He stomped aboard, his burden slung over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Amity!” Faith started to cry. “Oh my god. She’s dead!”

“Not dead. Unconscious. I had to tranquilize her. I didn’t have time for a long discussion.” He shifted his gaze to Bragg. “I’ll put her in a stateroom. You launch the ship and get us the fuck out of here.”

Faith followed Marshall, and Bragg sprinted to the bridge. The AI already had the coordinates, so he issued the order, and the ship rolled to the launch pad and blasted off. We made it!

But where are we going? What’s the plan, now?

He found Marshall and Faith in a small stateroom, Amity unconscious on the bunk, and Faith stroking her friend’s hair. “How long will she be out?” she asked.

Marshall shrugged. “An hour maybe. Long enough for us to talk.” He shrugged off the duffel and handed it to her. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Your cat.”

She unzipped the bag and let out a cry. “Rusty! Oh god!” She lifted out the limp cat, eyes open, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“I tranqued him, too. The fucker scratched me.” Marshall shoved up his sleeve to reveal an angry, red claw mark.

“You deserved it.” She glowered at him while rocking Rusty.