Speculative Fiction Showcase: Collision Course (In Love and War, Book 5) by Cora Buhlert

Monday, September 17, 2018

Collision Course (In Love and War, Book 5) by Cora Buhlert

Release date: August 29, 2018

Subgenre: Space opera, Science fiction romance

**About Collision Course:**

Once, Anjali Patel and Mikhail Grikov were soldiers on opposing sides of an intergalactic war. They met, fell in love and decided to go on the run together.

Now Anjali and Mikhail are trying to eke out a living as mercenaries on Metra Litko, an independent world on the galactic rim, while attempting to stay under the radar of those pursuing them.

Anjali and Mikhail are working a routine bodyguard job. But things quickly go awry, when an assassin bypasses all security measures to shoot the wrong target… or does he?

Anjali and Mikhail set off in pursuit, only to find themselves confronted with a figure from Mikhail's past who could threaten their newfound freedom.

This is a novelette of 8000 words or approximately 27 print pages in the In Love and War series, but may be read as a standalone.

Excerpt:

Mikhail walked over to the edge of the roof, put aside his rifle and sat down, armoured legs dangling over the edge of the roof. Anjali abandoned her post — not that there was much to watch anyway, since Grigorian wasn’t even here yet — and settled down next to him. And so they finished their meal in companionable silence, while casting longing looks at the Plasma Café across the street and its bright pink neon sign that promised “Tasty Doughnuts” in letters a storey high each.
“Maybe…” Mikhail said, “…when all this is over and Grigorian is safely back in his mansion again, we could go over there and have coffee and some doughnuts.”
Anjali smiled. “Doughnuts would be nice…”
Mikhail had introduced her to doughnuts shortly after they’d come to Metra Litko, amazed that Anjali had never had any, even though there was a Rajipuri pastry named balushahi that was similar. And though Anjali did not much care for either Republican cuisine or the food found on the rim, she’d nonetheless quickly fallen for doughnuts. Just as she’d quickly fallen for Mikhail.
“…but I’ll have tea.”
“Something to look forward to then,” Mikhail said, “Once this mission is over.”
On the street far below, large groundcars were floating up to the Ostrowsky Hotel to spit out men in dark suits and women in evening gowns. The guests were beginning to arrive. Though no sign of Grigorian yet.
A drop of water landed on Anjali’s nose, quickly followed by another that dripped off the sleeve of her utility jacket.
“Great. Now it’s starting to rain, too. For of course, there couldn’t be just one day without rain on this misbegotten world.”
Rain was not good during a sniper mission. It impeded visibility and could mess up the trajectory of the shot.
Beside her, Mikhail suddenly stiffened.
“What is it?” Anjali wanted to know.
Mikhail relaxed. “Nothing. I just got some kind of interference on my com implant. Apparently, it doesn’t play well with the external commlink.”
As if on cue, both their commlinks buzzed.
“Showtime,” the gravelly voice of Pavel Horacek, commander of the security team on his mission, sounded in their ears, “Grigorian is on the way.”
Anjali and Mikhail promptly sprang into action. Anjali settled herself behind her Marcasona Mark IV sniper rifle again, her gaze sweeping the street through the scope, while Mikhail adjusted his own rifle.
Through the scope of her rifle, Anjali watched Grigorian’s big groundcar float up to the entrance of the Ostrowsky Hotel, where it came to a halt. At once, several other members of the security team surrounded the car.
“All clear,” Pavel’s voice announced through the commlink.
One of the security guards opened the door. Arkady Grigorian emerged, dressed in a formal black suit. He was a bulky man with olive skin, oily dark hair and a pencil-thin moustache, whose upwards twisted ends made him look like a villain from a bad vid drama.
The guards attempted to hustle Grigorian inside, but — like so many people who hired security specialists — he completely failed to listen to them and instead insisted on lingering outside the hotel. He held out his hand to help his date for the night exit the car.
Grigorian’s plus one was a striking woman with glossy black hair swept up in the kind of hairdo that was impossible to archive without a styler. Her body was swathed in a gorgeous red gown that gave Anjali wardrobe envy. At the woman’s throat, on her ears and at her wrists glittered jewellery that looked like very much the work of a Rajipuri goldsmith. Must have been purchased at Thuzar’s House of Fine Jewellery then, cause Thuzar was the sole importer of Rajipuri jewellery here on Metra Litko, Anjali had seen the prices he charged. Grigorian was clearly generous with his gifts to his girlfriend. But then, he could afford it.
Anjali thought of the gold and garnet pendant she wore around her own neck. “Unlike us,” she thought.
“Idiot,” Pavel’s voice sounded in their ears, “Hangs out on the street to wait for his girlfriend. Even though he’s in danger and she’s perfectly safe, cause no one cares about Grigorian’s arm candy du jour.”
Once more, the security guards tried to hustle Grigorian and his girlfriend inside. And once again, there was a delay, when the heel of the woman’s shoe caught on the carpet outside the hotel.
At the edge of her field of vision, Anjali spotted a flicker of movement. She swept her scope towards the movement and relaxed, once she realised that it was only a patron exiting the Plasma Café. The man pulled up the collar of his synth-leather coat against the rain and hurried across the street.
Anjali swept her scope back towards the entrance, where Grigorian and the security team were still trying to get the shoe of his girlfriend free from wherever it had gotten stuck.
All of a sudden, the woman collapsed, a spot of darker red blossoming on her gorgeous gown. Grigorian cried out, while the security guards piled on top of both of them.
A split second later, Anjali heard the shot.
“Target down, target down,” Pavel’s voice yelled in her ear.

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About the In Love and War series:

About Cora Buhlert:

Cora Buhlert was born and bred in North Germany, where she still lives today – after time spent in London, Singapore, Rotterdam and Mississippi. Cora holds an MA degree in English from the University of Bremen and is currently working towards her PhD.

Cora has been writing, since she was a teenager, and has published stories, articles and poetry in various international magazines. She is the author of the Silencer series of pulp style thrillers, the Shattered Empire space opera series, the In Love and War science fiction romance series, the Helen Shepherd Mysteries and plenty of standalone stories in multiple genres.

When Cora is not writing, she works as a translator and teacher. She also runs the Speculative Fiction Showcase and the Indie Crime Scene and contributes to the Hugo-nominated fanzine Galactic Journey.

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