Probably
my favorite hero of all (if we can call him such) is Wil Vanlipsig,
the Lone Wolf. Depending upon which side of the battlefield you're
on, will determine if you consider him the hero or the villain. A
Galactic Marine for over 60 years, he still looks as if he's 26 years
old. There is more to Wil than meets the eye.
The
year is 3032 and Mankind has conquered the stars. Two organizations
control the majority of the business and trade: The Navigation Guild
and The Galactic Mining Guild. Both vying for supremacy, the balance
of power is often in flux. Now, though, the Mining Guild has a
secret, the largest known deposit of Trimagnite—the liquid ore
that's life's blood for the Navigation Guild. That's just the tip of
the iceberg and it's up to Wil VanLipsig, the Lone Wolf, and Matilda
DuLac to control the situation before it's too late.
Their
visitor sized Matilda up with a glance, dismissing her as
non-threatening. He puffed on his cheroot thoughtfully. A crooked
grin cracked his face in half, the scar pulling his left lip up at an
odd angle.
"Marc,
it's been a long time." He held out his hand.
Marc
remained aloof, not taking his eyes off the visitor, lowering his
weapon or acknowledging the proffered hand.
"Kind
of a cold reception, isn't it?" His voice was rasping and low.
The
smile was replaced by a slight frown, a hint of sadness in the
obsidian eye. Then the same placid expression took its place. Nothing
in Marc's face betrayed what he was thinking or feeling.
Marc
spoke calmly. "Commander Dulac, please show Colonel VanLipsig to
the lounge."
"Of
course, sir." Looking puzzled, she did as he asked, feeling his
eyes on her.
Marc
followed, covering the man from the rear. When they had seated
themselves, Matilda ordered three cups of joe from the synthunit.
Marc kept his weapon out on his knee with his hand resting upon it.
The other fellow leaned back, seemingly unconcerned and at ease.
Taking a sip of the joe, he grimaced, glancing down at his cup before
matching his gaze with Marc's.
"I
know we parted under difficult circumstances, but is this really
necessary? I'm here to do a job, nothing more." He carefully
kept his hands in plain view, moving slowly, talking with deliberate
ease.
Marc
looked at him blankly. "I thought you were dead, Wil."
VanLipsig
nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You were sure you killed me."
His voice was flat, toneless, unemotional. He shrugged casually,
tilting his head to the left. "I got better." There was a
flash of a chilling smile.
"The
reports...."
"The
reports of my death were greatly exaggerated," VanLipsig
quipped, dark eye glittering mischievously.
Marc's
fist dented the metal table with a furious blow. "Dammit, Wil!
Can't you just stay dead?"
VanLipsig
threw back his head, laughing caustically. The laugh became a long,
high pitched, chilling howl. Matilda felt a shiver run through her to
the very bone. She did her best not to show it, but a subtle shift of
her bearing betrayed her. His gaze penetrated her soul, laying it
bare, finding it wanting.
"Aren't
you going to introduce me to the lady, Marc?"
"No."
Marc
hid his anger, but Matilda knew he was furious. His attitude toward
VanLipsig was puzzling. They seemed to have known one another for
years, obviously parting on less than amicable terms. Though
VanLipsig seemed to harbor no ill will, Marc did.
"May
I present myself, ma'am? I'm Colonel Wilhelm VanLipsig, also known as
the Lone Wolf. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He attempted to look
humble. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." His glance
flicked to her name tag and insignia, dark eye lingering hungrily on
her chest. "Commander Dulac." His mouth formed the words,
enjoying the feel of the consonants on his tongue.
He
waited patiently for a response. Getting none, his eye locked with
hers, curious, intrigued. "Do you speak?"
Matilda
studied him quizzically, raising an eyebrow. "There seemed
little to say."
Wil
chuckled deep in his throat. It was a seductively menacing sound. He
put his feet up on the table between them, relaxed, but all business.
"So,
what's this load I'm supposed to pick up?"
Matilda
glanced at Marc, his blank face betraying nothing. He gave no
indication that he was going to speak, so she took over the
conversation.
"Trimagnite."
VanLipsig,
who was staring openly at her full breasts, raised an eyebrow. He
grinned wolfishly, dragging his gaze to meet hers.
"Really?
Nasty stuff." He sounded almost gleeful. "How pure?"
She
met his eyes with a challenge as his smile became predatory. Her
personal scanner showed him the basic specs. His brow furrowed
slightly as he read, then he handed it back to her, whistling softly
in surprise.
"Show
me the full scan." All joking aside, he stood expectantly.
Matilda
showed VanLipsig to a console and typed in the commands. He leaned
over her right shoulder, his face mere inches from hers. She could
smell the cheroot and a slightly musky odor she didn't recognize. The
scent tantalized her. It was uncomfortably disconcerting, made all
the more disturbing because he was dangerously handsome, well built,
virile, wickedly seductive and extremely close. Forcing herself to
look back at the screen, she felt his warm breath on her neck,
tickling her skin in a very sensuous way.
He
leaned forward, tapping the console, watching as the view and number
readout changed. The very air between them was charged with energy.
His shoulder brushed hers from behind, making her shiver
VanLipsig
put his hand on her shoulder, brushing her neck slightly with his
thumb, leaning in as if to kiss her. He checked himself abruptly,
nearly brushing her ear with his lips. His breath stirred wisps of
hair, tickling her neck.
"I'm
sorry, Commander. Are you cold?" His raspy voice seemed loud,
although he whispered.
She
ducked out from under his arm, stepping aside. "No, I'm fine.
Really. Thank you."
Marc
stood a few feet away, his eyes on the other man, saying nothing. The
muscle in his jaw working rapidly, bulging and relaxing as he fought
for control.
Wil
seemed unaware of them both as he read the screen, making mental
calculations; sensuous lips moving as he spoke to himself. He nodded,
clearing the screen, turning to them with a dazzling smile.
"No
problem," his smile broadened, but didn't reach his eye. "I'll
just get my bots to work, then."
He
made for the door, but Marc halted him with a powerful arm across his
chest. Wil halted, pressing aggressively against Marc's elbow.
"Old
man, you know that's dangerous." Wil's body stiffened
defensively.
Marc
glared at him, cold fury erupting. "By God, Wil! I saw you die!
I killed you, you bastard!" Marc pounded the table next to him,
scattering the cups of joe.
Wil
didn't even blink. "I told you, I got better."
"Why
can't you stay dead?"
Marc's
huge fist shot out suddenly from shoulder height, all his weight
behind it. Wil caught Marc's fist, twisting up and away from his jaw,
forcing Marc's arm to bend back on itself, elbow by his ear.
"Don't
make me do this, Marc. "
Wil
held Marc's arm, their muscles swelling and knotting as they fought
for control. Marc tried to free himself from the other man's
unyielding grasp. Suddenly changing tactics, he swung at Wil with his
left hand. With an audible crack, his enormous fist connected with
Wil's face. Neither man seemed to notice. Marc drew back, swinging
again from the left.
Wil
dropped Marc's right hand in order to block the blow. He grabbed
Marc's arm in an elbow lock. Using the force of the attack, he spun
Marc to face him, slamming his fist into Marc's abdomen.
Instead
of recoiling from the blow, Marc moved in, utilizing Wil's momentum
and his own greater weight, to put his opponent off balance. He threw
Wil to the floor, hitting him with a bone grinding body slam.
Wil
exhaled sharply as he grappled with one hand in Marc's hair. Wil
forced Marc's head back at an odd angle. Marc's face grew dark red as
he gasped for breath.
Matilda
reacted instinctively, her weapon trained on Wil automatically.
Stance defiant, her eyes glittered with dark fire.
"Let
him go," she spoke quietly, teeth clenched.
Wil
held Marc's head, but stopped twisting.
"Let
him go."
"Why
don't you put the gun down, Ma'am, before you hurt yourself?"
Wil's
face registered momentary surprise when she didn't immediately
comply. Instead, her grip tightened on the weapon, her aim true,
right between his eyes. The astonishment was quickly replaced by a
placid expression. VanLipsig allowed himself a glance in her
direction. Her face held a determination equal to his own. Slowly, he
let go of Marc, who straightened up, shaking his head, face turning
back to normal.
"Move
away from him."
VanLipsig
stood in one fluid motion, taking two steps back. His hands were
shoulder height, out from his body. He made no sudden movements, his
demeanor passive.
"Now
would one of you testosterone glutted males tell me what the hell is
going on?" Her dark eyes flashed dangerously.
Wil
smiled slightly, waving his fingers to get her attention. "May I
put my hands down, Commander?"
Matilda
gave a terse nod. "Where I can see them."
Slowly,
he lowered his hands, keeping them in full view. "Could you
maybe?" He gestured to the point of her weapon, motioning down.
Lowering
the barrel, she kept her eyes on him.
©
Dellani Oakes 2018
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