Page 7 of Zirkov

MAGGIE

“Shit,” Maggie swore as she walked the halls of the DAA, reading the latest report from GI7. They’d lost another witness, a human woman set to testify on Dal against the og’dal slavers who had kidnapped her from Earth during the occupation.

Ever since Sutherland assigned her to spy on GI7 two days ago, every mention or reference to og’dals put her on edge. She replayed that night last week over and over in her head without gleaning any additional insight. After she’d fled the warehouse, she’d raced home like a coward and searched every inch of her apartment, looking for clues about what had happened. There’d been no sign of a struggle or evidence that someone had drugged her. The best she could surmise was that she’d dressed for work, left her apartment, and then… what? Been overpowered? Or drugged and taken to that warehouse? She hadn’t found a single needle mark or bruise anywhere on her body. She’d had blackouts before, but nothing that ended in murder.

She had no defense. When she failed to find anything that could exonerate her or explain her actions, she hopped in her car and drove to Redondo Beach Pier, where she flung the murder weapon into the Pacific Ocean. Getting rid of the evidence disturbed her more than not having any answers to what happened that night.

Maggie slammed into a hard red wall, crushing the folder in her hands.

“Careful!” A huge muscular hand steadied her.

Not a wall. Konnitch. The only keentan marshal in GI7. At least she hadn’t run into Zirkov. He would have stared at her with those bright silver eyes and said something that made her look like a fool.

Maggie straightened her blazer and felt for the gun at her side. Konnitch’s eyes caught the movement. She’d never draw on him or anyone from GI7. They’d earned her trust in the past two years.

Then why did her hand move to her Glock? She was in a secure building. Earth Intelligence had moved into the DAA’s building in Los Angeles to better coordinate security involving aliens, both allied and enemy. Earth Intelligence occupied the sixth and seventh floors of the nine-story building. She’d taken the back stairs to the fourth floor, which Zirkov’s group, GI7, shared with Alien Immigration. There was no reason to reach for her gun, but she had, and Konnitch noticed. Thankfully, he had the good grace not to mention it.

“You’re distracted,” the keenta said.

“I read the latest report. On the loss of Betsy Franklin.”

That wiped the smile off Konnitch’s face. At least he smiled now and then, unlike the tall blue zyanthan approaching behind him. She couldn’t recall Zirkov ever smiling, not at her. The other marshals had accepted her as their liaison to Earth Intelligence, but not Zirkov. The male was all scowl and no play.

And boy, how she’d like to play with him. She’d never seen such a gorgeous male before. Muscles… yeah, he had those everywhere, like every other marshal in GI7. But Zirkov had a commanding air about him that mixed with a reserved layer she had yet to reach. Maybe that’s what she found so alluring… discovering what he was hiding from everyone.

“Magdalena,” he greeted with a curt nod.

She hated being called that, and he damn well knew it. She’d told him enough times.

“I have to go,” Konnitch said, nodding to her before he threw a sideways glance at Zirkov and headed toward the stairs. Zirkov returned the nod. Subtle, but full of underlying meaning.

She wished she could read Zirkov better, find a way to get his attention.

“Must I repeat myself?” he asked, his voice edged with impatience.

“Sorry, I zoned out for a moment.” Not the first time this week, apparently. “Please repeat your question.”

He drew a deep breath. “I asked what case you’re working on.”

“Why do you want to know?

“We found a body in a warehouse on Terminal Island a week ago,” Stenikov said. For as tall and easy to spot as he was, he appeared out of nowhere. Unlike her, he’d make a good spy.

Maggie forced herself to lift a brow. “Oh? What were you doing there?”

Stenikov opened his mouth to reply, but Zirkov cut him off with a raised hand. “Go with Konnitch, report back later.” When Stenikov left, Zirkov motioned Maggie toward GI7’s office. “We received a tip of illegal activity involving og’dals. The victim was og’dal. The body’s been moved to the morgue. This case has gained Galactic Intelligence’s attention. Since you’re our liaison, you need to know what we’re investigating.”

Her! They were investigatingher!

Calm down, Maggie. Use this opportunity to find out what they know, what they suspect.

He closed the door behind her. “Yes, I need to know, but why didn’t Galactic Intelligence contact me directly?”

“You took vacation time.”

“Oh, right.”

Zirkov’s horns rose higher than usual. She’d annoyed him, a frequent occurrence these past few months. Nothing she did or said around him seemed good enough.

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