Chapter Three
The two men managed to drag their unconscious prisoner aboard the ship. Kyra and Spinner gagged him immediately. He couldn't ride all the way with his winter cloths on, so the lot of them went to work removing his painstakingly acquired outer layers. Kyra refused to help strip him. However, she did insist on being the one to chain him into his VIP travel chair, again with Spinner's assistance. Toombs settled himself up front, preparing the computer for take off. "We got 'em. Quick and clean," he said proudly.
"You are such a shit, Toombs," Kyra gritted through her teeth, strolling up beside him and taking a hand hold over head. "That's Riddick. Where do you get off thinking you can drag me-"
"I know you got gripe with him. Looks like I did you a favor. Now you two can settle up, or shoot it up, whichever." He flipped a switch and grabbed the controls to hold her steady, waiting for the ship to settle into auto. The dash mechanisms sighed contentedly, and he let go.
"Did me a favor?"
"You gonna strap in, or what? Atmosphere was pretty bumpy coming in."
She plopped down next to him and the others buckled up in the back. "Toombs, I swear, if this wasn't the biggest friggin' pay day I've ever picked up-"
"Cut the yappin'. You're pissed. Screw it," he said, shrugging it off.
"Screw it! Jack ass! If you weren't the only man here who could fly the ship I'd fillet your backside. You have no idea... You just pushed it on me, didn't even give me a chance to get used to the idea of going after him."
"You're the one who said it wasn't affecting your judgment."
"No crap?" She gestured frantically at the back of the craft, "And apparently I was right. That is him in the back with the shiny new bit in his mouth, is it not?"
"You two wanna clam up?" asked Mitch curtly, "Quit your bitching, the both of you."
"Shut up," Kyra heaved. They had no idea what she was going through.
He had been her idol, her accidental savior, her fantasy. She was thirteen and he was her everything.
They hadn't parted happily. That was an understatement. They had parted horribly, and she was definitely one to hold a grudge. In fact, his departure was the reason she was where she was now. If things had been different, if he had left at any other time than when he did... Bastard. Surprised he even remembered me at all.
Riddick stirred. His head was hanging limply in front of him, putting an ungracious strain on his neck. He tried to shift his jaw and felt his teeth scrape against something hard and smooth. With out moving his head, he lifted his eyes up behind his goggles. Four mercs. He'd been taken down by a four man team. Shit, if that wasn't a blow to the ego.
He mentally berated himself. It wasn't even her. You know it wasn't her.
With a jolt they broke out into space. "Time to rejoin the mother ship?" asked Spinner.
They all ignored him. It was a stupid question, after all. Of course they were. They were on course to intercept a merc cruiser. There they'd gas up and bask in a few comforts before bringing their charge to the planet the bounty had come from.
Mitch undid her restraints and pulled along the cealing to the rear of the ship. She then braced herself against an inner partition and stared at the con. "So this is him?" she asked quietly.
"How is Master Blaster?" Toombs cackled.
"Looks like he's out cold," she replied.
Kyra chewed the inside of her lip and didn't say anything.
Mitch double checked his bonds, then placed herself right in front of him, crouching down so she could see his face. His expression was grotesque, painted in a ghastly grimace around the bit. Her reflection peered back at her from his black lenses. She made a face. Kyra had mentioned once that he had a shine. Pursing her lips, she gently lifted the goggles to his forehead. Cold silver eyes glared back at her. Startled, she fell backwards.
He lifted his head, twisting it harshly from side to side so that it popped and cracked.
Toombs turned around to see the woman scrambling to her feet, and the prisoner wide awake. "Didn't I tell you not to tease the animals?" he jibed at her.
Kyra was tempted to turn and look, but didn't. A strange fear halted her. She wasn't sure what she'd see. She had never meant to confront Riddick like this. It had been years since she'd considered the possibility of actually confronting him at all. She hated it when the past just wouldn't stay in the past. She shrank into her seat.
"Lover boy's up," Toombs informed her quietly.
"Bite me," she mumbled back.
"Gladly."
She shot him a look. He shook his head, silently saying, You know I had to. She sighed, trying to slip back into her own thoughts.
They secured themselves for a short trip at supralight speed. It took them less than an hour to arrive at their destination. Toombs docked expertly.
The other three each scooped up a hand gun or two, while Kyra retrieved a dirk from her boot. She held it flat against her chest, attempting to quail her flustered heart. Her breathing was tempered, and her lips parted with the effort. This wasn't like her. She was one to confront things head on. Her fingers started to tingle, and she knew she couldn't stay huddled in her seat much longer. She heard Riddick being pulled from his place, and new mobile bindings being clamped onto him.
Mitch was out of the craft and down the ramp first. "Kyra," Toombs called, hardy noticing that she had failed to rise as of yet, "You bring up the rear."
She sucked her bottom lip and nodded. When she heard the tell-tale, thick clink-clink of the large-linked chains rumble down the ramp she finally brought herself to move. From the door she watched his decent carefully. When they had undressed him he had been left in nothing but his black tank, matching cargo pants, and all purpose boots. The same outfit he had left in. Go figure. Not that Riddick had ever had much of a varying wardrobe, but it was unsettling to her just the same.
His shoulders rolled, stretching the best they could. She blinked, trying to force her gaze in a new direction, needing to focus on the task at hand. Toombs should have told her. Jobs were never supposed to be personal. You go after some one you know, chances are it will end badly for the both of you. She had to focus. Pretend he's some one else, she told herself. Sure, I can do that, no problem. Who was she kidding? There was no use trying to trick herself into subscribing to something like that.
"Yo, Kyra!" Toombs yelled from the bottom, taking his place on Riddick's right, "You coming, or what?"
"Yeah, yeah. No problem."
"Let's hope not."
She stomped up behind the con, poking her dirk's tip into his lower back. The spot where the blade's point lay was no accident. Just left of the spine, fourth lumbar down...
...The abdominal aorta, Riddick noted.
"Move it," she growled in his ear.
"Where's this guy going?" asked the docking guard.
"As of now, max security cell. This one, he's a real hot ticket," Toombs cackled, smacking the man in the chest.
"Yeah, all right," he motioned for them to move along. He was used to seeing mercs exaggeratedly chipper after making a coveted capture.
They wound through the halls of the ship and onto an elevator. Spinner punched the button marked 'deck three.'
Riddick was buying his time, taking on the role of model prisoner. His hands and legs were cuffed. Several chains connected these limbs together, as well as to a manacle around his waist. They had also found it necessary to collar him; Mitch held the leash. His mouth ached. The bit was rubbing his gums raw. He ran his tongue along the length of the bar, attempting to concentrate on its sharp taste rather than the irritation.
The elevator car glided into place, and the doors swished open. Kyra jabbed him between the shoulder blades with the heal of her palm, urging him to step out. Three more guards greeted them, then led them to the end of an empty cell block. One man handed Toombs a note with a combo printed on it.
Riddick was man handled into the cell. His chains were removed, but only briefly so that they could be reconfigured, then secured to the far wall. A bear cot was all the room had for furnishings. Unfortunately, Riddick's shackles prevented him from sitting. No one bothered taking away the bit before sliding the bars into place and switching on the laser and plasmatic screens.
The fem-merc who he had taken for Jack stood outside of his cell while he was dealt with. She was leaning against what could be most accurately described as the cell's door jamb, so all he could see was her arm dangling rigidly beside her, a lock of chestnut hair, and a bit of hip. He wanted to see her face again, so he could take it in and prove to himself that it wasn't her.
When the guards gave him the thumbs up, Toombs took the time to pat his comrades on the back. Pulling them into a huddle, "This is the biggest pay day ever," he purred lowly. "I think we've earned ourselves a drink. Everybody to the mess hall. We're gonna feel it in the morning!"
They broke. Spinner and Mitch practically skipped away. Kyra moved to follow, but Toombs caught her elbow from behind. "Hey," he said softly, pulling her to the wall directly opposite Riddick's cell.
He could easily see the two of them, even though the screens made their forms look a bit grainy. She was profile now, but it wasn't good enough, he needed to see her head on. It was dim on the block, which was just fine with him. Besides having an okay visual vantage point, he could also hear them. After all, plasmatic screens could stop a six hundred pound animal from ramming through, but it couldn't hold back simple sound waves.
"Let go, Doc," she requested, tugging herself away from him. He relinquished his hold on her arm, but grabbed onto her shoulders instead. She could feel his chest pressed firmly against her back, his breathing deep. She knew what he was thinking.
"You've been one moody bitch since we got him aboard, you know that?" he murmured against her hair.
"Toombs..." she warned.
"I've been tryin' to tell you," he continued, grazing his lips over the smooth strands, "Let it go." He ran his fingers up and down her upper arms, "You need to relax, sweet heart. Go with the flow."
She didn't have the energy to fight him off at the moment. And being in front of Riddick some how made Toombs' advances more embarrassing than aggravating. All she could bring herself to do was protest. "Get off me," she snarled, her arm twitching.
One hand trailed its way to the base of her neck, kneading it softly, "You're too tense." He openly took in a whiff of her sent. Deliberately, he cleared the hair away from her ear. Blowing lightly on its crest, he insisted, "Lemme take the bastard off your mind. Just for a little while."
He pressed more of himself into her, then slid his fingers under her loose shirt to squeeze the top of her hip. That was all she could take. She roughly tore herself away. "I said no."
He raised his hands in an amused mock surrender, "Your loss, and you know it."
"Go screw yourself," she said in disgust, stomping away.
"I intend to," he retorted.
Smooth, Toombs, Riddick smirked, Real smooth.
Author's Note: Riddick doesn't nesisarly think that it's him Toombs is refring to here at the end of the chapter. He could be talking about Spinner. Remember, Riddick's not convinced she's who he thought she was. Thanks for all the reveiws so far, keep 'em coming!