Read Online Wine of the Gods 05: Spy Wars by Pam Uphoff - Free Book Online Page A

the stunnings, and had decided against any pursuit at all. Then they headed south to pick up the trail of the Oners. It was time to collect some information on the other side of this three way confrontation.
     
    The Oner's transport was fascinating. They'd just about gotten used to seeing the metal cold-coffins floating along above the ground, when the Oners camped the second night at what must have been their forward base. Everything was well hidden, deep in a gully with steep edges, occasional overhangs and brushy willows. The two long sausage shapes were colored to blend in, and floated, despite being about the size of three large carriages. The coffins were stowed in one of the big floaters, and tents and small cans unloaded from the other. The low one man tents were erected under the willows. The Oners tapped the cans and set them aside for a moment. When they opened them the contents steamed.
    Bran sniffed. "Dinner." He slipped invisibly into camp and returned with two of them.
    Oscar snickered. "If we follow them very far we're going to have to hunt." He frowned at the label. "Now this looks a bit like old Arbish." He pushed the 'heat' button and set the can down as it warmed suddenly. After a moment, nothing else seemed to be happening, so he fiddled with a tab on top and got it open. Apparently the Oners cooked the same way Earth did. Too much salt in everything.
    Bran did the same. "I have a suspicion that those . . . things are fast. Any ideas?"
    "If we ditched two of the coffins we could hide behind the third one."
    "You are completely suicidal. I like that in a partner."
    "Yeah. What say we take on the looks of a couple of the noodles and stroll over there in a few hours?"
    "Sounds good to me."
    The Oner camp, never noisy, became utterly silent quickly. They ghosted quietly around to the vehicles and with a little work figured out how to open the storage compartment. The coffins were strapped to the ceiling of the low compartment, and only the exterior one was visible. Perfect. They snagged the first two, and floated them away from the camp. They couldn't bury them, or indeed, get them to go high enough to float away. They finally just tied their tow straps to the brushy willows, and jogged back to the floating sausages.
    "Why Egto, whatever are you doing out here so late?"
    Oscar jerked around in surprise. The Commander had Bran by the shirt front. The bug-eyed woman frowned at Oscar.
    "I never knew you Information Team people even knew how to sneak around. Need something from your personal gear?" The commander pushed Bran back against the vehicle.
    "I, umm."
    Oscar winced. Bran obviously realized they'd give themselves away as soon as they opened their mouths. Bran gestured vaguely, then reached back and pulled out his hip flask.
    "A present? For me?" The commander's voice dripped sarcasm as she took the flask and opened it. Oscar reached to the high frequencies and tried to dim all detection of spells, felt Bran doing the same . . . She took a sip. Blinked and took another.
    The bug-eyed girl stepped closer. "What is it?"
    "Wine." She handed the flask to her assistant and got both hands on Bran's shirt. "Alcohol on a mission? My, you do have a discipline problem."
    Oscar tried blocking the assistant as well, as she wrinkled her nose and took a bare taste. Her eyes went wide as the Commander kissed Bran, then ripped his shirt open. " Kael! What are you doing?" She backed away wide eyed, and absent-mindedly took a long pull at the flask. Turning, she ran straight into Oscar.
    Oscar leaned down and kissed her.
     
    The storage compartment was far from roomy, even with the two coffins gone.
    "One more floating drop like that and I'm going to loose my lunch." Bran moaned.
    Oscar snorted. "We didn't have any lunch. Old gods, I wish I could have seen the camp this morning." They'd left the women snoring on the grass and locked themselves in before dawn. Even worrying about being caught, he'd had trouble keeping his