small and almost reflexive. âI wouldnât know about that one.â
âIf I had to guess, Iâd say that the cost of Kayâs hunt would be more than that, given the rarity, plus inflation and all in the years since.â
Zhe shrugged again.
âChristus, you paid a
million noodle
for Kay to risk getting killed by one of the largest predators still allowed on Earth?â
âMillion and a half,â zhe said, âsince you obviously want to know. You worried that sheâll get killed?â
Jo considered it for a few seconds. âNot really, no.â
âThen what the hell? Itâs only money, and itâll make her happy.â
Jo laughed. âYou are something else.â
âDonât I know it,â zhe said. âMy job is to take care of my team.â Zhe paused. âI have to run. My shuttle leaves in an hour. The locals have need of my specialized knowledge. I might even learn something in return.â
Zhe looked happy at the prospect.
Jo smiled and nodded. âHave fun.â
âI always do.â
Formentara headed for hir transport.
There would be a six-person covert ops team going with hir, and others fore and aft. Once a war was in play, it was a good idea to protect your assets. Technically, nobody was supposed to bother people away from the site of a battle, but then again, technically, Em wasnât supposed to be dead, either. Better safe than not, and Formentara rated the protection. It was possible zhe might not know how thick it was, but knowing hir, zhe probably did know. Not much got past Formentara if zhe wanted to bother tracking it.
Anybody who blinked at hir funny on hir trip was going to be made unhappy about that in a hurry.
Jo hoped Kay would enjoy her hunt.
SEVEN
In Cutterâs office, with glasses of premium bourbon over ice wafting a delicious odor into the cool air, Gramps said, âWhat are we going to do about Junior?â
Cutter shook his head, sipped at his drink.
Ah.
He allowed himself one glass a day, and the stuff was passing expensive though that wasnât the reason he drank but one. âWe could kill him, but that probably wonât help at this point.â
âHeartwarming thought, though.â Gramps sipped his own liquor and smiled at the taste.
Cutter nodded.
âHeâll be looking for a way to stick it to us,â Gramps said, âand if he canât find one, heâll make one up. Not a matter of âif,â but âwhen.ââ
âYep. My capital in the GU Army is mostly pocket change these days. I donât have enough clout there to get somebody to pull his leash tight.â
Gramps said, âHmm. Maybe thatâs not the only way to go.â
Cutter looked at him.
âLet me reach out to some people,â he said. âThe military isnât the only power in the galaxy with a long reach. Maybe we can find something to help.â
Cutter nodded again. âOkay. Meanwhile, how is this op shaping up?â
âSo far, so good. Aside from losing Em, nobody has taken any hostile action on our recons. We have built up a pretty good model of the area, Iâm talking to Zoree Woodâs intelligence folks, hardware deliveries are on schedule. Jo is at the port collecting troops and supplies. Kay is out in the Alaskan wilderness hunting a rogue bear. Gunny is at the range, practicing with her shiny new pistol to beat you.â
Cutter grinned. He had an innate talent when it came to CQ combat involving arms, something he cultivated but couldnât claim credit for: He was a born shooter. Gunny, who trained more than anybody he knew, was the best pure shooter in the unit, maybe on any single planet at a given time, but he consistently beat her in competitions. He couldnât claim credit for it, but he enjoyed it anyhow . . .
âThatâs not a bad idea. Maybe Iâll go to the range and program the attackers with Juniorâs
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