Hunting Dalia

By Gabriella Bradley

Framed, unable to investigate the crime she has been accused of and clear her name, Dalia stands trial and receives four life sentences without parole. However, the new leader on Xydlan has requested her extradition and by order of Earth's leader, General Karreman, the judge agrees. Taken into custody by the Xydlanians, she is resigned to her fate. There will be no trial on Xydlan, of that she is sure. Will they behead her? Send her to the pyre? Her life has come to an end. There is no hope left. The night before departing for Xydlan, a sound wakes her, and two figures come to her assistance. Two men with heads like dogs. Dalia is sure she's already been executed, and she's entered the afterlife. She is going to face her final judgement…

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Sep 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781487433567

Book preview

Chapter One

Dalia Ramadan, an undercover agent for Earth’s division of the UBI, the Universal Bureau of Investigation, left the large auditorium and hurried to the elevator. She’d been attending an emergency summit meeting where General Fornon’ka, from the planet Tiluaja, had just been voted for and sworn in as the new universal president.

This universal summit had originally been scheduled to take place in a week. However, thanks to the assassination two days prior of Universal President Ovo’khan of the planet Xydlan, the council had called for an emergency meeting of all world leaders. Most of them were fortunately already on Earth for the wedding of Veronica Karreman. The few leaders that weren’t able to arrive in time for the unexpected urgent summit sat in via video conference.

On Xydlan, Emperor Z’o’lo’kron had been quickly sworn in as the planet’s new leader to replace Ovo’khan. Z’o’lo’kron now carried the honorific of admiral since all royalty and regal titles had been abolished long ago. But the public still referred to him as emperor.

Most of the leaders of planets that were members of the Universal United Ruling Syndicate, commonly called the UURS, were in attendance to place their vote for the new universal president. They would continue the meeting to discuss other matters that had originally been slated for next week’s meeting.

Dalia had been ordered to attend the summit undercover, so she went disguised as a reporter. She wasn’t the only undercover agent present. Security had tripled in fear of another assassination attempt, this time on the newly sworn-in president. Or worse, a bomb. The whole building had been inspected from top to bottom before anyone arrived, and everyone attending had been thoroughly scanned and vetted.

Dalia had witnessed the shooting of Ovo’khan and had hardly slept since the assassination. She had spent whatever free time she had trying to piece it all together. Without results. There was no tangible rhyme nor reason for the homicide except for public dissatisfaction. But why? President Ovo’khan was a good man, had been immensely popular with many people, and had done his position justice.

The meeting was in full swing when she had received a text message ordering her to leave her post at once and report to UBI headquarters. Now. Immediately.

Why the sudden rush? Why pull her from her assignment? They had more questions for her. That’s all she was told. Couldn’t they have waited until after the summit was over? She sighed. She’d repeated the tale of the assassination so many times that she could almost recite it from memory. If they would let her be, she could continue her investigation. Which, so far, had led nowhere because she hadn’t had enough time.

She was stumped, although it was early days, and she’d had to work her investigation in between her shifts. She could hardly wait until all the leaders and delegates had left Earth so she could concentrate on the case full time. That’s if the UBI allowed her. But she didn’t see why they wouldn’t. She was one of their top agents, and she had an invested interest in this particular crime.

Once she reached the underground parking, she glanced around and saw no one. She quickly got into her vehicle, yanked off the blue-haired wig, and tossed it onto the passenger seat. She removed her blue contact lenses and wiped the excess makeup off her face. Then she locked her weapon in the glove compartment and started her aircar, setting it on auto-drive. While the vehicle took her to headquarters, her thoughts drifted back to that fateful night.

Universal President Ovo’khan and his wife had arrived on Earth early from his home planet, Xydlan. They were here to attend the wedding of Veronica Karreman, the daughter of Earth’s leader, General Karreman. The event was to have taken place a day before the canceled annual summit. Due to the assassination, the wedding had been postponed.

Dalia had been one of the agents assigned the undercover job of tailing President Ovo’khan as additional insurance for his safety. She had protested the assignment. Sure, Ovo’khan was the most important figure in the universe... But really? Who would even dare make an attempt on the man’s life? After all, Ovo’khan already had a full protection detail. He was surrounded by his own security team and secret service agents assigned by the United States division of the UBI. So why was it necessary to have undercover agents in place as well to follow and protect him? Although currently, extra protection was provided for all visiting leaders because of the many demonstrations that had occurred of late. Many of which had been quite violent. And not just on Earth. With Ovo’khan being so much in the public eye, he received special treatment.

The general public had protested heavily against a universal ruler from the beginning. They remained against universal domination, wanting their own governments back. In the USA and other countries on Earth, they wanted their own president, prime minister, ruler, or monarchy. It was the same on other planets as well. They wanted things to go back to what they once were. Thanks to an organization called Universal Saviors, people were spurred into protest marches on worlds throughout the universe. Many of them resulting in mini uprisings and violence and too many bombings and assassinations.

But Ovo’khan’s assassination had been the ultimate crime to surpass all others. Dalia sighed as her vehicle moved through the various transport tubes toward the offices of UBI headquarters. It didn’t take long to get there, and the aircar quickly found a space to park. The underground parking was almost empty and quiet, reminding her strongly of the night of the shooting. Leaving the vehicle running and ignoring the voice of the GPS, she leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, once again recalling what had happened that night.

Against the advice of his protection detail, President Ovo’khan had decided to attend the groom’s bachelor party held at a famous nightclub. It was a club frequented by high-class individuals, the very wealthy. A club to which the ordinary workman could not get a membership, and even if possible, much less afford.

Dalia had picked up the transmissions about the party, the president’s plan to attend, and the protests of his advisors and security detail. Of course, his little excursion had to be on her eight-hour shift. She had bought an evening gown, some fake expensive-looking jewelry, put on a blonde wig, and had head office get her a pass to get into the club.

She had gone ahead of the president and his entourage and entered the club’s underground parking on foot. After inspecting the parking floor allotted to the club, she waited for his arrival. It had been past midnight, so it was quiet. Some of the vehicles parked on the level had probably belonged to staff or to invited guests partying in the club upstairs. There hadn’t been many cars in the garage that night. The club had been closed to its general membership for the evening. Only those with invitations to the party that night had been allowed to enter. Why the president had chosen to arrive at the club so late, she’d had no idea.

It had all happened so fast, in a matter of seconds.

The president had arrived in a black airlimo, followed by one black aircar, and without his usual full protection detail. She’d been shocked at the lack of security, almost as if the president was playing hooky. The vehicles had parked next to the elevator in the two specially reserved spots. Only two secret servicemen had stepped out of the second vehicle. But as soon as they’d set foot on the concrete floor, they had collapsed, blood dripping from a large wound to their foreheads. The scorch marks around the wounds indicated phaser fire.

And the assailants hadn’t only aimed for the president and his men. Several phaser shots had whizzed past where she stood hidden, barely missing her. This led her to believe she had been spotted, and they needed to eliminate her as a witness.

The chauffeur had also stepped out and stood beside the passenger door of the president’s vehicle. He’d quickly ducked when he saw the agents crumpling to the concrete floor, shouted at the president not to get out, tried to shut the door, but too late. He, too, fell to the ground.

The president, already in the process of getting out of the limo, immediately swiveled to get back into it when several more shots whizzed. One caught him in the back of his head, the other in the center of his back, and another efficiently cut off his green tail.

Dalia had left her spot, carefully crouching and hiding among parked cars while dodging the phaser fire aimed at her. She approached the scene as fast as she could, her weapon ready. Suddenly, she’d seen two figures dressed completely in black, wearing masks, jump into a parked aircar right next to the reserved parking spots. One of them dropped a weapon, kicking it so hard that it slid toward the wounded president. They had again fired their phasers at her from an open window. She’d been able to dodge the shots while firing back at them, then at the car as it took off, and still shooting, she ran after it for a few seconds, but the vehicle was too fast.

For a split second, when they had jumped into their vehicle, she’d seen a small part of their faces. One had strange, yellow eyes. The other had blue eyes, with a scar from the eyebrow down and across the eyelid, deforming the eye. They had been dressed in black bodysuits and had worn latex balaclava masks that covered their whole head. She’d continued firing her phaser at the disappearing vehicle, but it was gone in seconds, and it had no plates.

Vaguely, she’d wondered where the two assailants