Page 67 of Healing Creek
Samantha’s eyes widened. “Of course.”
Grace almost slumped in her seat with relief. “We’ll need to do it on the bridge where you can access navigation.” And with that she had to explain the plan to Samantha as well. They would need navigation to calculate the distances and speed of their ships. For all she knew, David could be too far to get there.
“Let’s go,” said Mercury as he met her gaze. “Time is critical.”
There were too many people on the bridge. It was her first thought when they arrived. She didn’t really want to talk to her family in front of all of these people, but it had been her idea. She was glad for Creek’s presence. The bridge was brightly lit with a handful of workstations all oriented toward the center of the room where the pilot’s station held prominence. It was elevated above the others.
“Pretentious, right?” Samantha followed her question with a chuckle. “We definitely need some redecorating.”
Grace forced a smile, but she wasn’t feeling the humor.
A panel on the wall directly in front of the pilot’s station held the view screen, currently showing a lot of readings and updates Grace had no hope of understanding. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled.
“Grace.” Creek caught her and kept her from embarrassing herself by falling on her face.
She patted his hand, took a steadying breath, and strode forward. “You actually fly this thing?” she asked Samantha.
“With a little help from the bridge crew.” Samantha led her to one of the workstations. “You’ve met Torres, one of our new communications officers.”
She had met Torres. The woman who’d been a prisoner before the Arena Dogs liberated her along with all the others looked night and day different from the last time she’d seen her. She wore pants and a pullover in blue. Solid colors in simple styles seemed to be the new crew uniform. Her short, dark hair had been recently trimmed in a way the warmed her deep brown eyes.
“Torres,” said Samantha. “Grace’s brother has his very own ship and we’re contacting them.”
Grace cleared her throat. “It’s been a while since we were in touch, so I don’t know where they are. TheSparkcould be out of the sector.”
Torres rested her hands over the controls. “Do you have the hail code for the ship?”
Grace provided the information and Torres entered a coded hail. She indicated a screen on the workstation counter. “If they answer, look this way and they’ll appear on this screen.”
Samantha took Creek by the arm and moved him to the side. “We’re going to stand over here, off camera, so we don’t freak your brother out.”
Creek looked down at her hand on his arm but didn’t protest.
Torres looked up from her workstation. “Keep in mind we might have to try again later if his ship is in skipspace.”
She’d barely finished speaking when a woman Grace didn’t recognize appeared on screen. Torres handled the initial interaction and within a minute David’s face appeared on the monitor.
“Grace. Oh, thank God. We’ve been so worried. Are you okay?” His sandy blond hair looked a shade lighter from the gray sprinkled through, and there were fine lines at the corners of his eyes. Had it been that long since she’d seen him?
“I’m safe, David. It’s good to see your face.”
“Where in the hell are you?” He leaned closer to the camera and his eyes seemed to search her face for clues.
“I’m with friends.”
David turned and looked away from the camera. “Sully, get my mother up here.”
Her stomach knotted. She wanted to relieve some of her mother’s worry, but she didn’t really want to be the one to tell her about Jenny.
“David, can you transmit your coordinates? I need to know where you are.”
“Why?”
“I’ll explain when Mom gets there, but I have someone waiting on those coordinates to make some calculations. Can you trust me?”
He studied her for a moment then shrugged. “We’re not anywhere sensitive. We’ve been petitioning the authorities on Silviana to reinstate the search for you.” He turned aside again. “Send those coordinates. What?” He listened for a moment. “Grace, I’m being told that the ship you’re hailing from is registered to a suspected criminal.”
“Morgan St. Germain kidnapped me, but he’s no longer in control of the ship.”
