Chromium

11.6

First draft

Omen and Dia soon reached the meeting point, the old train station Ferguson had called the south gate, but Reyes wasn't there. Some of the Umbra's men told them "the commander" was waiting for them at the spaceport. Dia had never liked surprises, but when the guards led them to the armory, and they suited up, the brand new laser rifle in her hands cheered her up a little.

She was still a little on edge when the sliding door opened and they found themselves face to face with a man and woman. They were well armed, and well trained considering they automatically pointed their guns at her and Omen, their reaction speed comparable to that of the imperial special troops.

However, Dia was even faster than them. She was about to open fire and ask question later, when Omen said, "Calm down, I know them. They are your bodyguards."

The Mercenaries?

Dia slowly lowered the rifle and peered at them curiously. The woman was in her late thirties, maybe early forties, but she was still fit, though a bit short. Her head had been shaved on both sides, leaving just a thin stripe of black hair going all the way down the middle of her head. She looked very boyish, a kind of androgynous beauty Dia found hard to describe.

The man, on the other hand, was quite tall, slim and much younger---probably in his early twenties.

"What the fuck, Omen?" The man cursed, "You took off on your own! We barely made it out alive! That fucking mist..."

"Don't be too hard on him, Willis." The woman grabbed Willis' arm, holding him back, "He was worried." She winked at Dia.

Will snorted, "Worried? Really, Rodriguez? Then why did he keep chasing after Gibson? He knew her location but..."

Rodriguez gave him a dirty look. Then she glimpsed at Dia, "That's not our business, Willis."

Yet, the damage was done.

Dia pressed her lips together, her eyes boring into Omen, "What is he talking about, Omen?"

"Yes, Omen." Willis parroted, "Why don't you explain it to her?"

Omen scowled at him, his hand closing around the stock of his gun.

"Don't look at him. Look at me." Dia said to him.

"Dia, I..." Omen hesitated, "it was for your safety.'

"Cut the crap, Omen. Tell me what's going on."

Omen sighed, "I may have taken...extra precaution."

Dia narrowed her eyes, "Extra precaution?"

"Your mission was dangerous. So I..."

"He put a tracker on you." Willis interjected.

"Willis!"

"Come on, Rodriguez. She needed to know the truth."

Dia didn't look at him. Her attention was focused solely on the man before her, "Is that true, Omen?"

Omen hesitated for a second or two, but then he nodded.

She scowled at him, fighting the urge to scream, or worse, start shooting like a complete madwoman, "Where? Where is it?"

Omen moistened his lips, and for the first time since she'd met him, he looked embarrassed. He avoided her gaze, but his eyes lingered on her stomach for a second too long.

Dia's face hardened like a cinder block, "My piercing? Did you put a tracker in my fucking navel? Oh God, you have to be kidding me..."

"It was necessary." He sounded very cool and professional, but she had no intention of letting him fool her this time.