13
We were obliged to wait for a Fugitives Retrieval shuttle at the Shen City docks. We could have transported our prisoner back ourselves but Sherry hadn’t wanted to take any chances. I couldn’t argue with her reasoning; it was a dead cert Mr Mac would have contingencies in place in the event of his capture.
“You’re late,” I told the two FR guards when they emerged from the airlock, both clad in body-armour and carrying stubby riot guns. One was a tall woman of Nordic appearance, the other stocky and Asian, sporting a pair of Raybans.
“We got diverted,” the tall woman said. “Priority pick-up on Minerva Station. I’m Vandeman, Prisoner Security.” She nodded to her partner. “He’s Kurota, the pilot.” Her gaze shifted to Mr Mac, sandwiched between Timor and Joe with his hands cuffed behind
