Fatal Extraction Page 5

  “What are you cooking?” He peered at the pot. “Smells really good.”

  “Dumpling soup.” She poured him a bowl and gestured for him to sit at the dining table. She joined him with her own bowl and watched with amusement as he studied the soup while stirring it.

  “Did you make them this morning?”

  “No. Binsa made them. She brought them earlier when we came home.”

  Zane took a small sip of the bluish soup and a careful bite of the dark green dumpling. His face lit up as he chewed. “This is amazing!” he declared. Then, he alternated between blowing on the food to cool it and shoving it into his mouth.

  Nirvana smiled as she watched him eat. From the way he devoured the burger on the battle jet, and now the soup dumplings, she was convinced that he had lived on nutrient bars and drinks most of his life. If that was the case, he couldn’t have been a high-ranking officer in Hayashi’s military.

  From the information she’d gathered of Hayashi’s men, the higher the rank, the more decadent they were. However, those officers were not residing in Asago, but other parts of Chikara. Perhaps Hayashi was stricter with the men working directly with him.

  What about the whip marks on his body? What did he do to cause him to receive so many lashings?

  She pushed her bowl towards his and scooped the dumplings from her bowl into his.

  He paused and looked at her bowl, “Why are you eating so little?”

  “This is enough for me,” she lied and felt a little sense of satisfaction as he went back to cramming the food into his mouth. This young man had managed to trigger all the maternal instincts in her that she never knew existed. She had to remind herself that he was essentially still a stranger, and it was too early to let her guard down.

  While they were eating, Nirvana gave Zane a brief overview of the three main tribes inhabiting Gebo—the mountain people of Athar, Sescal nomads and Paplash outlaws.

  “Hang on a minute,” he said, removing his glasses. He adjusted something on the frame and placed it on the table. “I need to record what you’re saying for my database. There’s not much info on Gebo on the GalaticNet.”

  “Yeah, the people here are not exactly friendly. This used to be the planet where the other planets dumped their exiles and condemned criminals. The main congregation of outlaws is now at Paplash, while the more decent folks had settled in Sescal and Athar over the decades. I haven’t really explored the other regions of Gebo but these three places I’ve mentioned are the most established settlements on this planet.” She went on to describe them in more detail to him.

  Zane was so enthralled by Nirvana’s description of Gebo that she had to remind him to eat. “I’ve never been anywhere outside of Chikara,” he said wistfully.

  “Well, there’s no one stopping you from exploring the entire galaxy now.”

  Zane gave her a bitter smile and turned his attention back to the food.

  Nirvana knew what was left unsaid was a sore topic for them. “You know, if we both survive this job, you can tag along on my ship wherever I go. You’ll get to see many places.”

  He stopped chewing and looked at her in surprise. “Really?”

  She nodded and for the first time, she had a good look at his face. He was a good-looking chap—square-jawed, aquiline nose, chiselled cheekbones and small dents on his cheeks when he smiled. The sparkle and intensity in those big eyes of his sent a strange tingling sensation down her spine.

  She broke their gaze and changed the topic, “Well, to tag along, you need to be in top physical shape.” She looked towards the window. “I think the sun should be coming up soon. Time to build your fitness.”

  Chapter 8

  Nirvana picked up a shoulder yoke with two buckets attached to the ends and showed Zane how to balance it on his shoulders.

  “Go to the river, fill up the buckets with water, come back and pour the water into the tank.” She pointed towards a wide pipe sticking from the ground, which was connected to a large water tank buried underground. It supplied the water they needed for daily necessities.

  “I could work out a system to direct part of the water flow from the river into the tank directly,” Zane offered.

  “That’s not the point. I need to work on your fitness. We’ll need tons of it for this mission. Hard labor will help.” She patted him on his back. “Now go.”

  Nirvana’s yurt was built on higher ground in case the river flooded, but it was still relatively near the river. She stood at the top of the slope and watched Zane walk towards the river. Grinning, she watched him make the rookie mistake of filling up the buckets to the brim instead of making them half-full, then struggle to balance them on his shoulder.

  With a determined look on his face, he trudged up the slope, spilling almost half the water by the time he reached the pipe. She decided to leave him to it and walked over to the woodpile to split some logs.

  The sun rose fully after an hour. Nirvana stopped to stretch her arms and check on Zane. “Do you want to take a break?” she called out.

  “No!” he yelled back from the river bank.

  Alright, let’s see how long you can keep at it, she smirked. She headed into the woods to forage for food. There was a small clearing where she’d planted some seeds before she left for her previous job. She didn’t bother with maintaining the “garden” and was curious what had managed to grow.

  By late morning, Nirvana was back with a basket full of greens and roots. She was surprised to see Zane still trying to fill the tank. His legs were wobbly, and his body hunched under the weight of the yoke, but she could see sheer grit in his eyes as he plodded towards the water tank. She checked her CommsB. He had been at it for at least three hours. That was some resilience.

  “Zane, that’s enough! Take a break!” she called out to him. “You’re no use to me injured.” She went to the tank and activated a control panel on the pipe. The readings showed that the huge tank was nearly full, which meant Zane had been filling it up without taking a break. He was a lot stronger than he appeared to be.

  Nirvana turned around and looked at him with newfound respect. His muscles had to be screaming in pain by now.

  He poured one bucket of water into the pipe, leaned on it and slid down to a sitting position. Panting, he asked, “You do this to build your fitness?”

  “Yep, but I don’t go at it for three hours non-stop.” She gave him an amused frown before hitting a button on the control panel and starting the water purification process.

  “Yeah, this workout is some kind of crazy.”

  “Let’s go in and rest. It’s getting warm out here.” She held out a hand and helped him off the ground.

  “I’ll take a quick shower,” he mumbled and tossed the other bucket of water over himself. “Laundry’s done too.” He peeled the shirt off, displaying his “body art.”

  Nirvana chuckled and made a mental note to ask him about it later. Men with scars like these often suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. She wouldn’t want him to have an episode while they were on the mission. He must have really suffered in Chikara. Why the hell would he want to go back in again?

  She leaned against the pipe and openly checked him out as he lumbered towards the yurt. She could see the entire muscle anatomy displayed on his upper body while he wrung his wet shirt. He was lanky, but he was ripped. She could even believe the story she cooked up for Ching about meeting Zane at a bar and having a fling with him.

  She huffed and shook the lusty thoughts from her head. No, she reminded herself, not when we’re working together. Picking up the basket of food, she trailed behind him.

  The moment Zane entered the yurt, he collapsed onto the floor, all sprawled out and panting hard.

  “At least change your pants. They’re soaked,” she nagged as she stepped over him and nudged him with her foot.

  He gave a non-committal grunt and remained where he was. She knew he wasn’t going to move, so she scooped him up under his arms and dragged him acr
oss the living area to move him closer to the pillows at the sitting area.

  “Water?” she asked, walking to the chest of drawers to get a fresh pair of pants for him. She threw the pants on his face and went to the kitchenette to get some water for him, even though he didn’t give her a reply. When she returned with the glass of water, the pants she’d thrown at him earlier were still on his face. Squatting down beside him, she yanked the still-wet pair of pants off him.

  The movement jolted Zane awake.

  Nirvana backed off quickly in case he kicked her out of reflex. “I just wanted to change you out of your wet pants, since you couldn’t do it yourself,” she explained as she slowly approached him.

  “Oh.” He flopped back on to the floor and groaned, “I can do it.” He didn’t move at all.

  She sighed and pulled the pants off him as he tried to assist weakly. It startled her a little when his cock sprung free, saluting her at half-mast.

  “Oh, hello!” she greeted it cheerfully.

  He cursed softly and angled his body away as he scrambled to put on the pants.

  “I’ve seen penises, Zane.” She chuckled and went to the drawers to get a towel for him. “You should dry your hair before you go back to your nap. You’ll fall sick like this.”

  “Used up my last bit of energy putting on my pants.”

  Nirvana tsk-tsked at him and sat down to towel his hair.

  “Thank you,” Zane said with so much affection in his eyes that her face twitched when she tried to return his smile and say, “Welcome.”

  She quickly broke his gaze by putting the towel over his face and took a quick breath to ease that sensation in her chest. She couldn’t comprehend why she responded that way to him but it made her feel uncomfortable.

  She quickly got up. “I’m going to make us some lunch. Go lie on the bed, your muscles will thank you for it.” Without waiting to see his response, she walked straight to the basket of vegetables she left by the sink and started scrubbing them.

  Chapter 9

  “Get up!”

  Zane gritted his teeth as he braced himself for the burn of the whip.

  “No sons of mine can be weak! Get up!”

  He wanted to, but he couldn’t feel his limbs. Maybe wriggling would help. His pride didn’t matter anymore as long as he made it to the finishing point. He didn’t want another month of physical conditioning. He could do it. He just had to move his body.

  “Zane!”

  He flinched as he felt a stinging slap across his cheek. Funny how he could feel the slap but not his limbs. Come on! He wriggled harder.

  “Zane! Wake up!”

  He felt someone prying his lids open and a blurry face came into view. What was happening?

  “Hey,” the gorgeous face greeted him, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and stroking his face with another. “Think you had a bad dream.”

  “What?” he croaked.

  She gently squeezed his shoulders, massaging them. “You were thrashing around in bed. I tried to wake you up, but you just started to do this wriggling action.” She showed him. “I’m sorry I slapped you,” she apologized sheepishly.

  It took him a while to compose himself, his heart still pounding wildly. He stared at the beautiful woman massaging him before he recalled who she was.

  Damn it. Nirvana would definitely ask him about it, but he wasn’t ready to share. He closed his eyes and let her touch soothe him a little more.

  “Haven’t done anything so physical in a long while. Dreamt that I was in a swimming competition,” he joked, hoping very hard that she would not pursue the matter any further. He kept his eyes closed so that she wouldn’t see the discomfort of lying to her in his eyes.

  “I think,” she grabbed his arms, “you’re having all kinds of dreams because you’re hungry.” She pulled him up to a sitting position. “Come on. Lunch is ready.” She patted his thigh and walked off.

  Zane opened his eyes and took a deep breath. His muscles were screaming in protest as he forced himself to get up and limp to the bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face and rinsed the sour taste out of his mouth.

  At some point of time, he would have to come clean to Nirvana about his past. He knew she wouldn’t look at him the same way if she knew what he had done. It might jeopardize their working relationship for this mission and he couldn’t risk it. He had to find a way to come up with some kind of half-truths or skirt around the topic if she asked later.

  “You can come out and eat when you’re done admiring your handsome face in the mirror,” she called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

  Zane was scrambling for ways to divert Nirvana’s attention should she start prying about his past when he saw a large bowl of grey goop with lumps of stuff in it, and a basket of purple chunks on the table. He gawked at the food for a moment before looking at Nirvana.

  “This is like bread and dip,” she explained. “The purple root has a spongy texture so you break it up like bread. This is a stew from a mixture of random stuff. You scoop up this nutritious dip with the purple goodness.” She demonstrated. “And eat it.” She blew on the food to cool it a little before popping it into her mouth. “Mmmmmm.” She chewed, smiling with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  He eyed the food suspiciously.

  “Hey!” she protested loudly. “Sit down and eat. There is only so much insult a lady can take about her cooking!”

  Zane raised his hands apologetically and sat down at the table. He broke off a small piece of the purple thing and dipped it into the questionable-looking goop. Carefully, he placed the morsel in his mouth and chewed slowly.

  Wow! He widened his eyes and nodded in appreciation as he broke off a bigger piece. This time, he scooped a more generous helping of the steaming dip and slurped the mixture, chewing while trying to suck in air at the same time to cool it.

  Nirvana reached over and gave his ear a small tug. “I’ll not cook for you the next time you doubt my culinary skills.”

  He smiled at her and this time, he mustered up his courage to look at her face a little longer instead of shifting his gaze elsewhere.

  Nirvana was breath-taking.

  Her brilliant green eyes sparkled like chips of emerald, brought out by her delicious olive-skin tone. The light dusting of freckles across her high cheekbones made her look regal yet playful at the same time. He loved the way she frowned and wrinkled her nose at him whenever he did something she found incredulous.

  He was probably taking a little too long to look away because her smile was starting to wane.

  “What’s this?” he asked, forcing himself to move his attention back to the food.

  “This is roti tarul.” She pointed at the purple root. “And this is a mixture of kauli, choko, tite and laksi. Don’t ask me what the words mean. I learned the names from the Atharians.”

  “How do you know what to cook here?” he asked as he continued to devour his meal.

  “I spend quite a bit of my downtime here. I learned how to cook from Binsa, who learned from her mother, who also learned from her mother and so on. Nobody knew who discovered what and how they tested all these recipes. It’s just been passed down over the generations.”

  Zane nodded and shoved more pieces of roti tarul into his mouth.

  “You know, at some point of time, you’ll have to tell me how you got those interesting decorations on your body and about that swimming dream of yours.”

  He almost choked, and his mind went into overdrive with panic. Of course, she didn’t buy his hogwash when he said he’d dreamt about swimming. He thumped his chest and pretended to chew and swallow while he quickly tried to come up with something.

  “By the way, you snore tonight like how you snored earlier? You’re sleeping outside.” She shot him a warning glare and went back to eating her food.

  “In that case, I’ll tell you tonight,” he said, feeling grateful that she had given him a way out.

  “Why tonight?” She did that
cute frowning expression again.

  “Maybe my story will rack up enough sympathy for you not to throw me out.”

  “You think?” She gave him an incredulous look.

  He felt a little sense of accomplishment seeing her nose wrinkle. “I can hope. What are we doing after lunch?” he asked, hoping to steer her away from that topic completely.

  “You can pump up the generator if your muscles are still working. I’ll get us more firewood.”

  “Is this all that you do when you’re here?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Fetch water, chop wood, forage for the next meal?”

  “Yep.” Nirvana narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you look like you’re judging me?”

  “I’m trying to figure out why one of the most notorious pirates in the galaxy would enjoy leading such a mundane life.”

  “It’s not mundane,” she said defensively. “All these chores help me keep up the fitness I need for each job. I also take the time to rest and clear my mind before I go into intensive planning with my crew. I need to be highly alert and fast when I’m on the job. It’s good to take a break in between.”

  “Speaking of which, where is your crew now?”

  “I don’t know where Dein released them. He didn’t want to tell me.”

  “Surely you have some secret place to rendezvous when stuff like that happens.”

  Nirvana winked at him. “Maybe I’ll tell you tonight.”

  Touché. “Alright then.” He smirked at her. “Tonight.”

  Chapter 10

  Nirvana was splitting the logs when she heard engines rumbling in the distance. Two hoverbikes emerged from the woods and slowed down to a stop near her. Ching pulled off his headgear, scowling, followed by Eryn, who didn’t look like she was in a pleasant mood either.

  “I brought you dinner and your CommsB. Doctor Eryn here thinks I’m not qualified to check on both of your health statuses, so she insisted on coming along.”