Imperial Bounty Read Free Page B

down into large hazel eyes set above a straight, determined mouth. A terrible white scar slashed down across the soft roundness of her face. She'd been aboard the liner Mars when it was attacked and boarded by pirates. As they burst through the main lock Sara had been there, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the ship's crew. Coolly she had aimed and fired, killing at least two, before a boarding pike had knocked her unconscious, and left her scarred for life.
    In a way the disfigurement had saved her. Instead of selling her as a slave, the pirates had held her for ransom. Ironically she and her mother ended up aboard the very ship which McCade had refused to destroy during the Battle of Hell. In a desperate attempt to save her damaged vessel, the pirate captain had made a random hyperspace jump but it was too late. Knowing the drives were going to blow, the captain ordered those who could to abandon ship. Sara and her mother were among those shoved into a crowded life raft and launched into the darkness of space.
    Minutes later the larger vessel exploded, leaving them alone and far from any civilized world. Being a step below a lifeboat, the raft had no drive of its own, so for weeks they drifted aimlessly in space. One by one they began to die. Her heart broken by her husband's insane ravings, Sara's mother was among the first to go. More time passed, until only Sara and two others survived. Finally rescued by a tramp freighter, Sara had made her way to Alice, and never looked back.
    Then McCade had shown up, searching for her father, determined to kill him if necessary rather than allow the secret of the War World to fall into Il Ronnian hands. Mutual dislike slowly gave way to wary cooperation, friendship, and then love. So McCade saw past the scar, seeing only the love and concern in her eyes. She was still waiting. "I was stupid," he said, grinning.
    Suddenly she was back in his arms, planting kisses all over his face, and fussing over his appearance. Then she leaned back and wrinkled her nose. "Great Sol, what's that odor?"
    Meanwhile, the two marine guards did their best to ignore the whole thing and failed. Both were losing the battle to keep a straight face. Flushing slightly, McCade gently disentangled himself and followed her into the large cabin. It reflected the same elegant taste he'd seen inside the gig, which wasn't too surprising, since both belonged to the same man, Walter Swanson-Pierce.
    As Walt moved out from behind his rosewood desk to shake hands with Rico, McCade saw the naval officer was at his perfectionistic best. Body trim and fit, uniform just so, graying hair carefully combed, calculated smile firmly in place.
    Then it was McCade's turn, and as they shook, McCade noticed the thick gold stripe on the naval officer's space-black sleeve. He grinned. "So it's Rear Admiral now. Congratulations, Walt. Rear Admiral—a rank that describes you perfectly. A reward for cleaning out all the War World's little secrets, I assume."
    Swanson-Pierce chose to ignore the dig. Instead, he looked McCade carefully up and down, eyes lingering here and there, as though counting each bloodstain. "Why thanks, Sam, I suppose you're right. I'm sure the successful disposition of that problem did play a part in my promotion. Nice of you to help. Meanwhile, I see you've managed to maintain your usual standard of sartorial elegance—no, that's not quite true—actually, you look even worse than usual."
    Rico and Sara looked at each other and shrugged. They'd seen it all before. They'd have to wait it out. They dropped into chairs, Rico grinning in anticipation, Sara frowning in disapproval.
    "So," McCade said, also dropping into a chair, and swinging his filthy boots up onto the polished surface of the officer's desk. "What brings the mighty Imperial Navy to this corner of the frontier? Slumming?"
    As he moved around behind his desk Swanson-Pierce did his best to avoid seeing McCade's boots. "No," he answered evenly,