Hothar's Folly (Coletti Warlords series Book 9) Read online

  My legwork led me to Governor-General Ian Dovers of the Australian Defense Force. Using forged paperwork, I got a seat on a C130 cargo transport on a routine run to Australia. Once I was on the Governor-General’s base, I would do some discreet digging around. Or so I thought.

  Chapter One

  Cold prickles ran up my spine and I smothered a groan. The shit was about to hit the fan. The airmen on the C130 cargo plane had been giving me the stink eye since I boarded. The flight sergeant’s menacing gaze never left me. The way he kept stroking the butt of his gun gave me the willies. Instead of doing the smart thing and getting the hell off the plane, I had stayed put. Because my mission was so important. Yeah. Bad decision. Really bad decision. Not only was I outnumbered six to one, we were a thousand miles from Australia and I wasn’t that good of a swimmer.

  What had given me away? My disguise included a special silicone mask which made me look like a wrinkly sixty-year-old woman. The crowning glory was the hairy, black mole on my upper lip. Blue contact lenses disguised my distinct green eyes. I had dyed my curly mane to an ugly, muddy brown and wore a modified fat suit that added thirty pounds to my petite frame. Only three people knew about my mission and one of them had ratted me out to the Earth First fanatics.

  I knew I was in deep doo-doo when the rear cargo bay ramp started lowering. The jerks were planning on me doing a swan dive from twenty-thousand feet. I linked telepathically with Uncle Saul, “I have a little problem.”

  “Define little,” he responded.

  Before I could answer him, a searing pain erupted in my head and the link broke. What the hell?

  “Your psychic abilities are useless now,” the flight sergeant sneered and drew his weapon.

  Like I would believe anything that scumbag told me? I tried to seize control of the sergeant’s mind, but all I got for my effort was a killer headache. Oh crap. He wasn’t lying. I eyed the weird silver discs decorating his temples. Some kind of mental shield? With a nice touch of outrage to my voice, I cried, “Me? A psychic? Is this a joke? Because I don’t find it amusing. I’m not a highfalutin psychic. I’m a simple paralegal specialist. Do I need to show you my paperwork again, sonny? I’ve been assigned to Governor-General Ian Dover’s office.”

  “Cut the act. We know you’re General Jones’s kid.” The flight sergeant motioned with his gun. “Move to the back of the plane freak.”

  “And if I don’t? You’re gonna shoot me?” My telepathy was in the toilet along with my mind control, but I still had an ace up my sleeve.

  “Yes.”

  “And risk hitting an engine?”

  The sergeant smiled at me. “I’m an expert shot. I never miss.”

  I believed him. “I don’t like being threatened. It tends to make me a bit cranky and I haven’t had any chocolate today. Which is bad news for you. Those fancy discs might block mind control, but they don’t have any effect on my telekinesis.” I slammed the sergeant into the wall a few times and hurled him at his four buddies who rushed to his aid. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs at the edge of the ramp. One wrong move and over they would go. Oh darn.

  Two airmen whipped out their guns.

  “Shit!” I dove behind a pallet of food.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! A lethal barrage of bullets peppered the pallet and cockpit.

  “Stop shooting you dumbasses! You’re gonna kill the pilot or hit an engine,” I yelled and cringed when they started firing again. Why were bad guys such idiots? Sometimes it made it easier for me, other times, not so much.

  “You must be destroyed at all costs,” the flight sergeant bellowed. More gunshots rang out.

  Oh yay. Suicidal idiots. My luck rivaled Kaylee’s.

  The plane rolled violently to the left.

  “Holy Mother of God!” I grabbed the netting and hung on for dear life as the plane abruptly pitched to the right then climbed sharply. All the airmen tumbled out of the open cargo bay. Dang. They forgot their parachutes.

  The C130 leveled out and thick, black smoke trailed the aircraft.

  Yep, the dumbasses had hit an engine. Time to get off this flying deathtrap. Lifting a spare parachute pack off a hook, I quickly pulled it on and noticed the orange UNI-PAC survival kits. To be on the safe side, I tossed all of them out the cargo bay door. They were supposed to automatically deploy when they hit the water.

  The image of a bullet streaking toward me exploded in my mind. I took a quick step to the left. A sharp crack sounded. Five seconds later, a slug whizzed past my left ear. That had been too damn close. I glanced over my shoulder.

  The pilot stood in the cockpit door. The gun he had pointed at me, wobbled badly. He wasn’t too steady on his feet either. From the amount of blood soaking his shirt, I knew he didn’t have long to live. “You’re a filthy, deviant monstrosity,” he rasped.

  “Says the guy feeding people to the Rodan.” I lashed out with my telekinesis. The first blow knocked the gun out of his hand. The second, sent him flying back into the cockpit.

  “Hasta La Vista, asshole,” I shouted at the pilot and jumped out of the aircraft. This mission was a total bust.

  I positioned my body into the relaxed arch. I liked it best for free falling. Quinn preferred the box man form. Me? Not so much. Skydiving without goggles sucked. It was hard to keep my eyes open, but at least I didn’t have to worry about bugs at this altitude. When the pressure altimeter attached to my harness showed ten thousand feet, I pulled the ripcord. The parachute deployed. I grunted at the violent shock of going from 120mph to 20mph.

  The C130 suddenly did a 180 and nose-dived toward the water.

  “Don’t hit the life rafts. Please. Please. Don’t hit the life rafts.”

  The airplane slammed into the ocean and exploded into a million pieces.

  Wazzock’s piss. The flying debris had destroyed all the rafts. A flash of orange caught my attention. Wait. A single raft bobbed wildly on the heaving water. I looked up. “Thank you, God.”

  Tugging on the toggles, I rotated the parachute to angle me closer to the raft.

  “Casey! What’s going on?” Uncle Saul’s voice was full of concern.

  “The Earth First zealots have a device that blocks mind control and another gizmo that prevents psychics from using telepathy.” I flashed him images of the discs.

  “The discs were designed by Alliance scientists to keep the Coletti from using mind control on their soldiers.”

  “But the Alliance is an ally of the Coletti Empire,” I protested.

  “Not a hundred years ago. The C130 vanished off the tracking scanners. What’s your status?”

  I grimaced. “I’m floating eight thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean, the C130 is nothing but debris and the crew knew exactly who I was. You have a mole in your office.”

  “So it would seem. Are you injured?” Uncle Saul was beyond pissed.

  “I’m fine, but I could use a ride home.” I flared the chute to slow me down.

  “I have your coordinates and help is on the way.”

  “Thanks. You know how easily I sunburn.”

  A Coletti Talon fighter zoomed by me, swung around and made another pass.

  That was fast. The Coletti ships were the spitting image of our old stealth attack aircraft. I frowned as the fighter tipped it wings at me. The pilot was a bit of a showoff. “You sent a Coletti warrior to rescue me?”

  “He was in the area and volunteered.”

  “Oh yay.” I noticed the Talon had gone into hover mode.

  “Behave yourself.”

  “Yes, sir.” Poof! A Coletti warrior was suddenly wrapped around me. “Holy crap! Are you crazy? Who are you?”

  “Calm yourself, old one. I am here to rescue you. My name is Hothar.”

  “Rescue me!” I shrieked as the chute made an ominous ripping sound. “You’re too damn heavy. Get off me.”

  Hothar rolled his eyes. “There is no need for hysterics. You are in no danger of dying.”

 
; Our rate of descent increased radically. “Seriously? Hitting the water at 120 mph will kill us, you moron.” I slapped at his hand as he tried to unlatch my harness. “Stop that!”

  “Quit squirming female, I am trying to save you,” Hothar growled and yanked me out of my harness. We were abruptly free-falling toward the water.

  “Oh my God!” I threw my arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. “You’re a dead man. Do you hear me? A dead man.”

  “Even the Goddess can hear you. Jones females do not wail like children. Are you defective?”

  “No, I’m not defective! I’m pissed.” The ocean got closer and closer. “Teleport dammit!” There was a flash of black as Hothar obeyed. A few seconds later, we hit the floor of his spacecraft. I took a shuddering breath and slumped against Hothar. “I’m alive. I’m alive.”

  Hothar patted my back. “See, old one, you are safe.”

  “Safe?” I released his neck and sat up. His condescending smile made me want to smack the living hell out of him. “You almost got me killed.”

  “I saved your life,” Hothar countered.

  “The hell you did. I had everything under control.”

  Hothar snorted. “I do not think you are capable of swimming to Australia.”

  “I had a life raft.”

  “It sank,” Hothar replied, his large hands gripped my hips.

  “Did not.” That’s when I realize I was straddling Hothar and something was moving in his pants. “Shit!” I scrambled off him. “You got a critter in your pants?”

  Hothar’s eyes widened in alarm and he shot to his feet. “No. I do not.”

  I stared up at him. Yeow! Hothar was as big as the Battle Commander. With his firm jaw and those chiseled Coletti cheekbones, he could hire himself out as a male model. He wore a bronze communication bracelet on his left wrist and bronze chains were woven into his ebony warrior braids. His black, battle suit fit him like a glove, emphasizing every bulging muscle and that peculiar, twitchy lump. I smacked my forehead as it hit me. “Oh hell. It’s your snake thingy, isn’t it?

  “My what?”

  “Penis. You know, your man parts? With the squirmy tentacles?”

  Hothar glanced down at his squirmy, man parts. “No, it is not possible. You are too ancient. Are you even capable of breeding?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  His face hardened and a deadly Coletti warrior surveyed me from head to toe. The bulge in his pants thrashed wildly. “Answer the question.”

  “Is it supposed to do that?” I backed away from him. It was almost as if the damn thing was trying to eat its way out.

  “Can you still breed?” Hothar’s hands balled into fists.

  He was seriously pushing my buttons. “With technology anything is possible.” I gave a theatrical gasp of dismay. “You can’t think I’m your mate? I don’t have the stamina for a young’un like you.”

  “Goddess, I am doomed.”

  I suppressed a grin. It seemed Hothar wasn’t eager to hook up with a not so sexy granny. “Relax, you haven’t taken my blood or linked with me mentally. The only reason for your private parts to be doing the rumba is you’re horny. I mean, it’s been awhile if you’re getting turned on by an old gal like me. Right?”

  Hothar glared at me.

  “If you want, I can ask my cousins for the name of a good prostitute. I know Coletti warriors are keen on that kinda thing.”

  A low growl emitted from Hothar’s chest.

  “I guess that’s a no.” If I kept Hothar pissed off enough, he wouldn’t figure out I was wearing a disguise. I had no plans on being tied to any man. I liked my freedom too much.

  “What are you called?”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things. Bitch. Cunt, or my favorite, ball-buster,” I answered.

  “What is your name?”

  I swear I could hear his teeth grinding. “Casey Jones.”

  A computerized voice intoned. “Warning. Warning. Hostile aircraft approaching.”

  A decidedly happy smile curled Hothar’s lips. “Good. I need to kill something.” He dropped into the pilot’s chair and fastened his battle harness.

  “Yay. Giant, rat dinosaurs to slay.” I sat in the co-pilot’s chair. “Give me access to weapons control.”

  “You are familiar with our systems?”

  The doubt in Hothar’s voice made me want to hit him. I took a deep breath and secured my harness. “Yes, Quinn taught me.”

  “He is a skilled warrior,” Hothar said and tapped a code into the controls.

  My weapons systems console came online. Blips populated the battle display screen. I let out a whistle. “Got ourselves a target-rich environment. Where are they coming from?”

  “My assignment was to scout the area for a cloaked Rodan base.”

  I looked at the tracking scanner. “There’s an island ten klicks to the west. I bet that’s where their base is.”

  “I agree. I intercepted the C130 pilot’s distress call. He was asking the Rodan for assistance.”

  The blips on the screen grew closer. “You have any buddies in the area? We’re a bit outnumbered.”

  “Central Command has been notified,” Hothar responded.

  “I was on a top-secret mission to find the Earth First spies in Central Command, and you saw how that ended.” Uncle Saul needed to know what was going on, but when I tried to link with him, a searing pain exploded in my head. “Dammit! The Rodan have a gizmo that blocks telepathy.”

  Hothar nodded. “It was stolen from the Alliance scientists.”

  “Yippee-ki-yay, let’s shoot those mother fuckers down.”

  A thoughtful frown creased Hothar’s forehead. “You have spent time with Kaylee?”

  “Yessiree Bob, we’re like sisters.” I looked out the viewscreen. The sky was full of Rodan fighters. To me the spaceships looked like a black football bristling with weapons.

  Rodan laser cannons spat a rain of energy bolts at us.

  Hothar rolled the Talon over. G forces slammed me back against the chair as the ship accelerated sharply and went into a nauseating series of twists, banks, and dives.

  “What happened to your cloaking device?”

  “An excellent question. Now stop chattering and shoot.”

  “Cranky much?”

  “Kill them,” Hothar roared.

  “Yessiree Bob. It’ll be my pleasure to exterminate the rodents.” The readout screens were feeding me combat data at a high rate of speed. I wrapped my right hand around the firing control and unleashed a barrage of laser fire.

  The view screens lit up like the Fourth of July as eight Rodan ships vanished in a geyser of metal and crimson flames.

  “Thank the Goddess, you can shoot,” Hothar commented and put the Talon into a series of creative evasive maneuvers.

  My stomach protested as the vertical climb was abruptly followed by a barrel roll and power dive. “Who taught you to fly like this?”

  Hothar smiled. “Zarek.”

  Note to self: Never fly with Zarek.

  The Talon shuddered and shook as it took hit after hit.

  I let loose with an answering salvo. Three more Rodan footballs disappeared off the screen.

  A warning light appeared on the command console. The starboard deflector shield had failed. No amount of fancy flying was going to save us. I armed the Safat Fireflash missiles. I hated using them in such close quarters, but we were out of options. I launched the missiles.

  A dozen Rodan aircraft disintegrated into a searing inferno. The gut-wrenching shockwave made the Talon pitch radically.

  “Do you have a death wish female?” Hothar snarled as he fought to control his ship.

  “They aren’t eating my brains.” I fired another rocket.

  Kablooey! A blinding flash lit the view screens.

  The Talon shuddered violently as the energy flux disrupted the remaining shields. Stressed metal shrieked and groaned; systems shorted and blew out adding a pall of ozone t
inged smoke. The control console was suddenly awash in warning lights.

  “Systems failure,” the computerized voice announced.

  “Whoops.”

  “You are a menace,” Hothar growled as he released his harness.

  “Hey, they were about to shoot us down. I took a calculated risk.”

  Hothar bared his fangs. “And succeeded where the Rodan could not.”

  “Oh! So, your awesome piloting skills would have saved us?”

  “Yes.”

  I snorted. “Delusional much?”

  “My mind meld with Zarek gave me his knowledge. He is the best pilot in the galaxy.”

  The Talon suddenly plunged earthward.

  “Well, excuse the hell out me for trying to save our asses.” I freed myself from the battle harness. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Praying. I figured you were leaving me behind. I’m old, useless and unable to breed.”

  Muttering something under his breath Hothar yanked me out of my chair and teleported. Inky blackness surrounded us for a fleeting moment and then we stood on a lush tropical island.

  Flames and smoke belched from the ruined Talon as it tumbled from the sky. Kaboom! It crashed dramatically into the ocean.

  Chapter Two

  I watched the burning spaceship sink beneath the rolling waves. “You got insurance on that baby?”

  A muscle twitched in Hothar’s jaw. “No.”

  “That sucks. Will they take it out of your pay?”

  “Are you always this annoying?”

  “It’s a talent.” Cold prickles raced up my spine and I rubbed my hands together. “Oh, yay! More monsters to kill.”

  Hothar turned to study the Rodan soldiers charging down the beach. “I will teleport you to safety.”

  “No! You’ll need my help. There’s way too many monsters to handle by yourself.”