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  • Optorio Civil War Complete Series Box Set (Books 1 - 6): A Sci-fi Alien Warrior Invasion Abduction Romance (Optorio Chronicles Book 2) Page 3

Optorio Civil War Complete Series Box Set (Books 1 - 6): A Sci-fi Alien Warrior Invasion Abduction Romance (Optorio Chronicles Book 2) Read online

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  It was a disgusting practice on par with slavery, in my opinion. But that wasn't why I was there either. That would have to be just one more item on my agenda – but one I'd get to when I had the time. Which I didn't at the moment. But that time would come. I would make sure of it.

  “So what's going on?” Dibs asked me, taking a sip from his cup. “If this isn't an inspection or official government business, why are you here? What can I help you with?”

  I could see another ship coming in through the window. I watched it descending from the sky, its thrusters gently lowering it to the ground. As I watched it dock gracefully, I found myself remembering a time when I used to work on ships like that. I used to be able to take an entire engine apart – and then put it back together again – with my eyes closed. Once upon a time, I knew the ins and outs of most engines and machinery. It was one of my gifts, one of my talents, I supposed.

  But ever since joining the Council, I hadn't used those gifts and talents all that much. I was feeling a little rusty and wasn't sure I'd remember how to get around an engine anymore. But then, part of me figured that it was second nature to me and once I rolled up my sleeves and got my hands dirty again, I'd fall right back into it with ease.

  There was part of me that longed for those days. Everything had seemed – simpler – back then. I hadn't been saddled with reports and debate and oversight and everything else that being a part of Optorio's governing body entailed. And I certainly had never had to deal with the intrigues and subterfuge I was currently engaged in. No, back then all I had to do was fix what was broken and send it on its way. I missed those days.

  Dibs cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. He looked at me, eyes narrowed and an inscrutable expression on his face. I gave him a small smile and cleared my own throat before speaking.

  “You monitor all shipments that come in and out of the port, don't you?” I asked. “You log the ships that come in and out and their cargo?”

  “That I do,” Dibs said. “That, I do. That's my job.”

  “And you keep records on them all?”

  “Of course. As mandated by law,” he said, sounding offended that I would even dare suggest he was somehow derelict in his duty. “Would you like to see 'em?”

  “Maybe. But first things first – I need to see what you might know,” I said. “Do you keep track of every item that gets shipped?”

  Dibs narrowed his gaze. “Do I inspect every box that comes and goes out of here you mean?”

  “Yes, just to make sure everything inside is exactly what's supposed to be there.”

  Dibs let out a long breath, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “You know we're too understaffed to open every container that comes through here. There's only so much time in the day. And given the volume of goods that come through this port, it's impossible to check every single box on every single shipment,” he said.

  I cocked my head and looked at him. “Then how do you keep accurate records?”

  “Well, we do spot checks. It's always worked before,” he said. “And for the most part, we trust the vendors we work with. They have to have the appropriate licenses and bonds, and prove to us that they are a legitimate operation before anybody on Optorio is allowed to do business with them. That's how it works.”

  “Do you think any of them could be lying about what they're carrying?” I asked. “Or forging the necessary paperwork to offload their cargo?”

  Dibs was quiet for a few moments and looked at me evenly. “I'm sure some of them are,” he said. “Especially these days.”

  I sat back in my seat. “What do you mean, especially these days?”

  He shrugged. “Never mind. Not really my business to dip into.”

  “It very well could be,” I said. “Or I can make it your business by making it my business. What did you mean by that?”

  He sighed and when he spoke, it was with tremendous hesitation. “I just mean that I've heard rumors...”

  “What kind of rumors, Dibs?”

  He looked at me, his eyes wide and pleading. “Look, I don't like passing on rumors. I don't know if they're true or not.”

  I knew what he was afraid of and it wasn't passing on rumors. “Do not worry, Dibs,” I reassured him. “I will keep your name out of any official documentation. And whether or not there is any truth to these rumors will be for me to determine.”

  He didn't look the slightest bit relieved, but I saw the look of resignation in his eyes. I believed that he was a good man and that whatever was going on, upset him. I knew Dibs well enough to know that he didn't like thieves and he didn't like liars.

  “Look, Tarkonil,” he said. “You have to believe that we try to do things the right way here. I do my best to keep everyone on their toes. We have a zero tolerance policy for illegal contraband. And if any of my guys are caught transporting those things to or from Optorio, not only would they have to answer to you fine folks, of course. But first, they'd have to answer to me.”

  “I understand,” I said. “And it's not your integrity that I am questioning. Believe me about that. But I need to know what these rumors you are hearing are.”

  He sighed again. “From what I've been told, there are some port managers and inspectors who are being paid off to look the other way when certain shipments come in.”

  His tone was angry, but there was a bit of relief mixed in with it as well. It was as if the burden he'd been carrying on his shoulders by keeping that secret had been lifted – and it felt good. Like I'd said, Dibs didn't like liars and thieves. But he also wasn't one to traffic in unfounded rumors, either. I got the feeling he'd never looked very deeply into it because he didn't want to know.

  “What's being brought in, Dibs?”

  He shook his head. “Couldn't tell you for sure,” he said. “Off world drugs, I assume. I hear some of the kids in the cities are going crazy for this new crystal drug from somewhere off world. Other than that, I really couldn't say.”

  Drugs. That didn't surprise me in the least. I was sure there were all sorts of other contraband flowing in through our ports thanks to corrupt managers and inspectors. The drug problem would have to be handled, of course. Dibs was right, there was a drug craze sweeping through some of our biggest cities and it was destroying lives. It would have to be dealt with – and it would be. But not right then.

  In that moment, I wasn't after drugs or the people running them. I was looking for information on the trafficking of people – Optorions being shipped out and alien beings being brought in.

  “Have you heard rumors, regardless of how vague or unsubstantiated, of anybody trafficking in – living cargo?”

  “Living cargo?” he asked. “As in wild animals? I've heard a few things here and there, but most of it's above board. Most of the ones I've dealt with had appropriate permits and all. I haven't heard of a big black market for exotic beasts from other worlds. Could be happening – I just haven't heard a whisper about it.”

  “Well, not animals, exactly, but –”

  “Listen, Tarkonil,” he started. “I don't know what you're trying to get at here, but you're asking me if I know of anyone transporting living cargo, and all I can say is no. I don't know anything about all of that. And I wouldn't condone it either.”

  “Of course you wouldn't, Dibs,” I said softly. “I know that.”

  I got to thinking – Dibs was only one man and he had a solid reputation as a straight shooter. And he worked days. If I were going to bring in illegal cargo, I'd likely do it in the dead of the night when Dibs wasn't around. When there wasn't really anybody around and security was a little more – lax.

  “Who's the supervisor once you leave for the day?” I asked.

  “Zavrik. He works the overnight shift, usually.”

  “Zavrik, that name doesn't ring a bell,” I said, mainly talking to myself.

  “He's only been managing the port for a few months now. Not long. New guy,”
he said. “Not sure where he came from before he started here, but between you and me, he isn’t cut out for this job.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Dibs shrugged. “I shouldn't say anything more,” he said. “Not if I want to keep my job.”

  “This conversation is between you and me, Dibs. You can trust my discretion and that I will keep this all confidential,” I said. “Is he doing something illegal?”

  “Not that I know of. Not that I can prove, anyway,” Dibs said. “He just can't do anything right. He has no experience, and his paperwork is always screwed up – which means I have to do twice as much work to try to get the correct information we need for our records. And we're so busy that I really don't have the time to go dig it all up. And that's exactly why you'll find documents with a ton of missing information coming out of this port. I keep telling Zavrik that he needs to go back through and fix them, but he never does. Always says he's too busy. But you know what this place is like at night. I'm pretty certain he's just off somewhere sleeping.”

  Dibs' rant might sound like a typical workplace rant, but there was something there – just beneath the surface – that stood out to me. Maybe I was just looking for an excuse to believe in the worst case scenario, but this Zavrik sounded like trouble to me. And his incompetence sounded deliberate – not the shortcomings of a lazy, underqualified supervisor

  “Thank you Dibs,” I said. “Would you mind if I took a look at those records myself? And please, do not worry. All of this is still very much off-the-record and confidential. You have my word.”

  Dibs nodded. “Fine with me,” he said with a shrug. “All of my records are in order. Nothing out of place. I can't say the same about his paperwork though.”

  “That's okay,” I said. “I'll sort it all out.”

  Chapter Four

  Riley

  My alarm sounded way too early for my liking. I rolled over and felt like crying when I saw that it wasn't even six in the morning yet. But, that was the story of my life. My only consolation was in believing that one day it would be better. That one day, all of the hard work and long hours I was putting in now would pay off.

  That one day, my life wouldn't suck quite as hard as it did in that moment.

  I lay in bed, trying to find the strength and willpower to pull myself out from beneath my warm blankets. After several minutes of denial, bargaining, and finally acceptance, I managed to climb out of bed and make it to the shower. Not without plenty of moaning and groaning along the way, of course.

  I was a zombie most mornings. A blubbering, incoherent and unintelligible mess on the best of days. And that morning was nowhere near my best of mornings. I somehow made it through my morning routine of brushing my teeth and getting dressed, all while half asleep. I poured myself a giant mug of coffee and downed it right before I needed to dash out the door for class. I was hoping it would help keep me awake through my first few classes, and at lunch time, I could sit in my car and take a quick nap. It wasn't like I hadn't done it before – more than a few times.

  I was running late, so I rushed out of my apartment, hoping I'd locked the door behind me in my haste. Scurrying across the parking lot, I made it to my car and as I climbed inside, a chill rushed through my body. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end just like it had the night before, the feeling of being watched stole over me. I looked around but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

  “You're so damn jumpy lately,” I muttered to myself and shook my head.

  I tried to brush it off as nothing more than coffee jitters and a healthy case of paranoia, but as I pulled out of my parking spot I stopped the car and froze. Sitting across the street from my apartment complex was a black sedan. The same black sedan that had been in the parking lot at the Hen last night. And even through the tinted windows, I could see that somebody was inside the car.

  Adrenaline coursed through my body and my hands trembled upon the wheel. Apparently, I wasn't nearly as paranoid and jumpy as I'd thought. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn't go back into my apartment; I'd be a sitting duck. I'd be trapped. I could call the cops, but there was some small part of me that argued it could still be nothing and if you dragged the police all the way out there, it would turn out to be a misunderstanding and I'd look like a complete freak.

  The longer I sat there, the more my anxiety grew. The best thing I could do was get moving. Getting myself into motion would probably ease my worries some. Surely, they wouldn't do anything to me in broad daylight. And once I got to school, there would be plenty of people around and I'd be safe in the crowds. Right?

  “Get moving, dummy,” I said to myself.

  Putting the car in gear, I pulled out of the driveway – a little too quickly. My tires chirped on the pavement as I accelerated away, my eyes glued to the rear view mirror. I was so busy watching the road behind me that I very nearly forgot to watch the road in front of me until it was too late. Thankfully though, I looked up in time to hit the brakes, very narrowly avoiding rear ending the BMW stopped at the light in front of me. I obviously had bigger things to worry about, but destroying my car and also having to pay for the repairs of a very expensive car pretty high on my list of things I couldn't afford to do.

  My car squealed to a stop, a cloud of smoke and a line of rubber behind me. I quickly checked the rear view again and saw the sedan behind me. It was moving slowly, casually, as if it had all the time in the world.

  “Shit,” I said. “Shit, shit, shit. Come on light. Come on!”

  It seemed to be a law of the universe that when you were running late – or were running for your life – that all of the traffic lights were duty bound to work against you. And given that I was mere inches off the rear bumper of the car in front of me, I couldn't get around him to make a fast getaway.

  The sedan stopped about twenty feet behind me. It was as if the driver were enjoying inspiring sheer terror in me and was making a game of it. Finally, the light turned green and the BMW sped away – very likely to get away from the crazy chick behind him that had almost ruined his day. And his car. I followed suit though and floored the accelerator, speeding away from the intersection.

  I rocketed through town, heading for school, not caring that I was going over the speed limit. In fact, if I got pulled over for speeding, it might actually work out in my favor. With a cop there, I could point to the sedan that was very clearly following me at that point, and have them find out who he was and what he wanted.

  Sapphire Bay Community College sat at the far edge of town. It overlooked the Bay and was a stunning campus – surprising for a junior college – but it also had a very good reputation for its academics. But none of that mattered to me at the moment. All that mattered to me was the safety and sanctuary it offered me. If I got there.

  The one part of the drive that worried me was Sapphire Canyon Road. It was a long, lonely stretch of highway that ran from the heart of town and through a small canyon before emerging into the part of town where the school was located. Sapphire Bay was a small town and wasn't overly populated. Stretches of road like the canyon road were very seldom congested and in fact, were often deserted.

  If the psycho in the sedan was going to make a move on me, he would likely do it in the canyon. Of course, maybe I'd seen too many movies or television shows and the idea of him speeding up and forcing me off the road was more fiction than fact. But still, it wasn't a comforting idea no matter which way you sliced it. My old car was falling apart around me and I worried about the added strain I was about to put on her, but my plan was to go as fast and hard through the canyon as I could.

  The sooner I was off the lonely road and among people again, the better.

  Traffic thinned out and then disappeared altogether by the time I hit the mouth of the canyon. My heart was thundering in my chest when I looked in my rear view and saw that the sedan was still behind me. And had actually closed some of the gap be
tween us.

  “Come on, baby,” I encouraged my car. “Don't let me down. We can do this.”

  I pushed down harder on the accelerator and though my little beater shuddered, she dutifully picked up some speed and soon enough, we were racing through the canyon. And the sedan not only stayed with us, it drew closer.

  “What in the hell do you want?” I screamed in the mirror.

  Tears welled in my eyes as my terror grew to gargantuan proportions. My hands were trembling every bit as hard as my car was with the strain I was putting on her. But I thought I was going to make it. We were going to get out of the canyon before the sedan caught us. We were going to get to safety. I checked my rear view mirror once more and thought I saw a flash of blue light in the window. It was brief and perhaps it was just a reflection of light from the sun or something else entirely – or perhaps it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But the flash was brief and then it was gone. And I continued on, knowing that in less than a mile, I would be free and safe.

  Or so I'd thought. In a heartbeat, my whole world came crashing down around me. My car died.

  Nothing blew. Nothing rattled. Nothing – happened. All I knew was that one moment we were racing to beat the devil and the next, everything just quit. The engine. The radio. Everything. It just – stopped.

  “No!” I screamed as my car slowed down and began to coast.

  The sedan didn't overtake me, but it continued to pace me even as my car continued slowing to a stop. I pounded on the wheel, frustrated, terrified, and feeling infinitely powerless. The walls of the canyon seemed to be pressing in on me, amplifying the feeling that I was trapped. I had nowhere to go.