The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

“We didn’t have to, because in this kind of situation, Nat would have told the boy to say something only we would know,” Fitzwil said. “What’s in the note?”

Shaken, Anouk opened the paper, it read:

Dear Miss Herring,

I will meet you at Ibars’ warehouse at midnight. I have news about Stalo.

Yours, Mr Walla

P.S. Come alone.

She lifted her gaze from the paper and met the eyes of her hosts.

“Let me see it.” Vari took the note and examined it for a minute. “Yes, it’s Nat’s handwriting. The choice of words aren’t his usual way of writing though. He’s less formal with family and friends. Whoever made him write this is using him as bait… to get you.”

“Do you… I mean, doesn’t this mean that Stalo knows where I am?”

Vari gazed at her. “It appears so, but he’ll expect you to walk into the trap. There is a large military base just on the other side of this park, so even Stalo is hesitant to attack. However, it doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t try if this should fail.”

“We need to change the camping ground just in case,” Fitzwil advised.

Anouk looked down to her feet. This whole Stalo-business was becoming a massive inconvenience to Vari and Fitzwil who had nothing to do with it. “I…I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry about.” Vari checked her pocket watch before giving Anouk a crooked smile. “We have five hours to come up with a plan. Generous of them to give us so much lead time.”

“Are you coming with me?” Anouk was hoping they would even though the message instructed her to come alone. She had no desire to do so, but she had little choice but to go—alone, if necessary. Nat and Anouk were in this together.

“Of course. We can’t let you walk into a trap alone,” Fitzwil said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m not good at these kinds of things, yet. I’m an accountant, not a mercenary or a ninja.”

“What’s a ninja?” Vari asked.

“Ninjas were professional spies, assassins and saboteurs in Japan on my planet ages ago.”

“Sound like very handy people if they are on your side.” Vari smiled.

Anouk wished there was a ninja at hand now. When she was training in aikido and katana, it never crossed her mind she might have to use the techniques in real life. Well, maybe in cases like that drunken man at the brothel. By contrast, Stalo was a former warlord and seasoned fighter. He had his arm in a sling, but Anouk was sure he could turn that into a weapon. And, he had at least two soldiers at his disposal.

“Vari?” Anouk clasped her shaking hands.

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” Vari stepped to Anouk and gave her a hug.

Anouk clutched her as she used to do with her mother when she was a kid on her way to the dentist.

Vari smoothed Anouk’s hair and whispered into her ear. “We have your back, and we’ll try to make sure you don’t get hurt. Although they have Nat now, he’s not defenceless.”

“Really?” Anouk whispered. A hope fluttered in her chest. “You think we can pull this off?”

“Fitzwil and I have been in tougher situations than this.”

Anouk pulled an arm’s length away and studied Vari. Had she just said that to try to make her feel better? “You have?”

Vari smiled. “Aye.”

Hope fluttered stronger now. Maybe she would live another day.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell it’s all going to be fine.” Vari’s face took on a solemn look. “We’ll most likely end up fighting and someone might get hurt.”

Anouk’s shoulders slumped. Or maybe she wouldn’t. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Let’s get prepared.” Vari squeezed her shoulder and turned to go to the caravan. Fitzwil was already fussing around it.

“Do you think Stalo is there himself?” It wasn’t a happy scenario, but this could be their chance to capture him. And then she could return home—if she survived that is.

Vari twisted her head. “I don’t know, but I’m sure his trusted men are.”

Chapter 11

It was almost midnight. The moon cast pale light over the sea, forming a wavy glistening bridge to Rondon Port. In the sparse light, it looked like any other port with its ships and box shaped buildings. Tall and lanky steam cranes had finished loading a steamship an hour earlier, and eerie silence had descended over the area. Only occasional screeches and clanks cut through the air. The smell hovering around was a curious mixture of coal, machine oil, seaweed and fish.

Anouk and Vari lay on the roof of a warehouse next to Ibars, scanning for movement around the abandoned building. Ibars was a mirror image of any other storehouse in the port; a flat-roofed, brick-walled, giant shoe box. Two men—one burly and the other twitchy—stood outside, talking and smoking. They kept their voices low, but more than once Anouk picked up the twitchy one saying bounty hunter when he fidgeted with his cigar, shooting frequent quick glances over his shoulder. At least they hadn’t said anything about a body. That was a relief.

Fitzwil returned from his reconnaissance and crouched next to the women. “I spotted four men guarding the alleys, but there could be more.”

The churning in Anouk’s gut grew almost unbearable. Although Fitzwil hadn’t seen any seasoned soldiers—or Stalo—that didn’t mean there were none about.

“There is a slight problem though,” Fitzwil continued.

“What?”

“I overheard two men in the back talking. If Anouk doesn’t go in alone, they have orders to kill her, Nat and whoever follows her.”

Panic knifed through Anouk’s mind and for a moment, she thought she would pass out. Vari squeezed Anouk’s shoulder, fixing her green eyes on her charge.

“Alright. Time to improvise.” Vari was calm and firm. “We do as planned, but Fitzwil and I will stay some distance from you, out of sight. And, when you’re ready, just call ‘now’ like we agreed. We’ll be there, I promise.”

Nat had talked about strategies involving old-fashioned inspiration, cunning, and the element of surprise—he had failed