Counterstrike

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Counterstrike Page 8

by D. J. Holmes


  “You’re my wife,” James complained.

  “And the Empire is your responsibility dear,” Christine responded, “especially when I’m like this.” Her expression changed as her face softened. “Don’t worry, I’m only teasing. I have needed you these past few days. So has Jonathan.” She gently raised her left hand and patted the side of her bed. James watched carefully to see if there was any sign of pain on her face. Her left arm and leg were both encased in advanced metallic casts that gave her some movement as her bones set. According to the doctor she had fractured both her ulna and radius at several points. Happily, James didn’t see any grimace or other signs of discomfort. “Come and sit beside me,” Christine requested, her tone changing again. “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” she said seriously.

  James didn’t like the sound of that, but he moved over and sat where Christine had indicated. “What is it?” he asked tentatively.

  With her injured arm, Christine slowly picked up a datapad that was sitting at her fingertips. “What date is it?” she asked.

  James rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you know what date it is. Let’s not play games.”

  “Okay,” Christine said with a nod. “We both know what date it is. That means we both know what date the fleet was meant to depart for phase one of plan Counterstrike. Two days ago. “And yet the fleet is still in orbit and you’re still here.”

  James felt his anger rising. “Of course I’m still here. Look at you. You were almost killed! What did you want me to do? Abandon you when you were barely fit to stay awake for more than a few minutes? Leave Jonathan alone with his maids?”

  Christine gently placed her hand on James’ thigh. She looked away for a second as she adjusted Jonathan. “I don’t want this to be a fight,” she said in a conciliatory tone when she looked back. “I have needed you here. That’s true. But the fleet has been delayed for two days. We can’t let that continue. We don’t know who attacked me. But whoever it was, we can guess why they did it. They don’t like the Empire; they don’t believe it’s the only way we can defeat the Karacknids. Heck, they may not even really believe the Karacknids are a threat. Though after what they did to Earth, that I cannot fathom. In any case, if their attacking me delays our attack against the Karacknids, then they will have succeeded in destroying the Empire. We need to get our ships moving. You know that far better than I do. Our window of opportunity is closing. It may already be closed. The fleet cannot dilly dally in orbit any longer.”

  “The fleet is not dilly…,” James began and then cut himself off. Taking a breath, he tried again, “A few more days until you’re up on your feet may not change anything. Admiral Ya’sia and the others understand.”

  “I know they understand,” Christine responded. “They’ve all sent me warm messages. But that’s what they would say. They can hardly demand that you leave your wife’s sickbed. But I bet that’s what they’re thinking. Do you know why? Because it’s what you would be thinking if it wasn’t me lying here. It’s what I am thinking. The doctors have assured us I will make a full recovery. My life is no longer in danger. I can look after Jonathan just fine now,” Christine said as she tilted forward to give James a better view of Jonathan feeding. “There’s no need for you to remain here. Not when so much is at stake. Can you promise me another few days’ delay, or even a week, will make no difference? None at all?”

  James wanted to say yes simply to win the argument. But Christine would know he was lying. The part of him that wasn’t a husband and a father was screaming that every hour could prove vital. “No,” he finally said. “I can’t promise that. You know I can’t.”

  “What is it that you think you can accomplish by staying by my side? Are you going to perform some kind of advanced operation to get me to heal quicker? Do you have a medical degree you’ve been hiding from me?”

  James ground his teeth together. “You know I don’t. You can stop with your arguing. I know what you are trying to say. But it is not my head forcing me to stay by your side. Someone tried to kill you. They are still out there. They could try again. They could have contacts in the Palace. How else could they know about your shuttle’s flight plans? I cannot leave you until I know you are safe.”

  Christine snorted. “Safe? If you wait until then, you’re going to be here a long time. You know we have enemies. Even if we catch whoever did this, how do you know there are not others plotting something similar?” Christine squeezed James’ thigh. “I know why you have been here. I know how much you love Jonathan and I. I appreciate it, of course I do. You leaving will not change how much I know you love me. But if you won’t leave me and see to your duty, I will start to get upset. Your love for me cannot compromise the safety of our people. I will not allow that.” Shifting position, Christine changed tack before James could reply. “And what about our allies? It’s not just our fleet involved in Counterstrike. There are Alliance fleets all through Alliance space working according to the timetable you have drawn up with Alliance High Command. Do they know our fleet has been delayed?” Before James could answer, Christine let go of his thigh and reached for her datapad. She waved it in front of him. “I know they know. I have a message from Admiral Jourm himself requesting an explanation as to the delay.” Christine looked away from James. “This is not something I’m prepared to debate. You know the right thing to do. I know the right thing to do. We know what must be done. So please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

  James closed his eyes as he let out a deep breath. Every fiber within him wanted to argue or simply refuse Christine. But as always, she was right. Counterstrike was a carefully planned grand operation that included a number of fleets spread across more than a thousand light years. It was incredibly risky. Delaying was throwing everything in jeopardy. “You’re right,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so filled with concern. I’ve hardly thought about anything else.”

  Christine’s hand returned to his thigh as she smiled at him. “That makes me love you all the more. But you’re more than my husband. You’re our Emperor and Grand Admiral. You have a fleet to lead.”

  “I do,” James conceded reluctantly. He hated to admit it. But his duty was clear. He took a moment to watch Jonathan then he gently lifted Christine’s hand off his thigh. Still holding it he stood. “This is not goodbye. I’ll go now and find Alfaro and start the process of getting the fleet ready. They’ll probably be able to depart within the next six hours. As soon as I put things in motion I will be back.”

  Christine squeezed James’ hand and then moved it over to stroke Jonathan’s head. “We’ll be here waiting,” she replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll be in good hands when you leave. Johnston has more than tripled the marines guarding us. He’s even added a special forces marine to each team.”

  James let out a deep breath. “Okay, I relent. I’ll go and speak to Alfaro and then I’ll be back.”

  *

  Rather than come right back, James made a slight detour after speaking with his Flag Lieutenant and confirming that the fleet was just waiting for orders to break orbit. After knocking on the office door, James tapped its entrance command. Recognizing his security clearance, the hatch slid open. General Johnston was still sitting at his desk as James entered but thanks to his lightning quick reflexes he was on his feet in a flash. “Emperor,” Johnston said. “It’s good to see you. I’m glad Christine is doing well.”

  “As am I,” James replied. “Thank you for the extra security,” he added as he moved towards Johnston’s desk. “Please take a seat, this won’t take long.”

  “Of course Emperor,” Johnston said as he sat back down. “I suppose you want an update on how the investigation is going. I’m afraid Admiral Russell is somewhere in orbit. He is following a lead with our customs officers.”

  “That’s all right,” James assured him. “I’m sure you’re as abreast of the situation as he is. What have you found out so far? I need to know everything.”

&
nbsp; Johnston looked away from James for second before looking back. “I’m sorry to say that the investigation is still very much in its infancy. At the minute we’ve only got two real leads. Neither of which has borne any fruit yet.”

  “Tell me where they have led so far,” James followed up.

  “Certainly,” Johnston said as he reached over and grabbed his datapad. “You remember that we suspected the shooter had been recording the attack.” Johnston waited just long enough for James to nod. “We eventually managed to trace the signal, it was relayed through twenty-two different sites but we tracked the final location down to an unoccupied apartment in Nice. So far though that trail seems to have gone cold. We know someone, probably two people, were physically present in the house when the attack took place. We’ve found trace elements from two different sets of clothing and the energy usage from the apartment suggests someone was using electronic equipment for several hours over the time period of the attack.” Johnston began to shake his head. “Sadly, we haven’t managed to pick up any DNA traces, nor have any of the imaging devices outside the apartment or nearby picked up any suspicious activity. We’re expanding our search across several nearby blocks. We may get lucky and pick up a face or even a form that we can match with someone in our databases. But the more time that passes the less likely that is.”

  James balled his hands into fists as he listened. Whoever had organized the attack on Christine’s shuttle had been less than two hundred miles away during the attack. That in itself was a smack in the face. As if the attacker was laughing at how close he could be and yet still shoot down Christine’s shuttle with impunity. “And the other lead?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

  “We have ID’d the shooter,” Johnston answered. “But it hasn’t led us anywhere I’m sorry to say. He was a nobody. A low-level technician in a recycling plant named François Sault. Both of his parents were killed in the Karacknid attack on Paris. We think someone got to him and blamed his parents’ loss on you and Christine. As you know, a number of groups are suggesting that you started the war with the Karacknids. In any case, due to his loss and isolation we suspect he was an easy recruit. He was evacuated from the suburbs of Paris after the attack and was living in Toulouse. As far as we can tell he didn’t make any friends and was struggling to find work. With the right incentive and encouragement, he would have been an easy mark. Clearly, he didn’t suspect being double crossed. I don’t know what Sault thought was going to happen after launching the missile. There was no way he would have got off that mountain without being discovered. All of that points us towards a well-organized group who has experience in turning vulnerable people to their cause. But that doesn’t narrow down our list of suspects. We are tracing Sault’s movements over the last several months. At some point he had to be recruited and he needed some basic training in using a hyper velocity missile. Then someone had to hand off the weapon to him before he travelled to Switzerland. It’s going to take time, but whoever armed Sault can’t have left no breadcrumbs. Eventually we’ll find one of them.”

  “And the weapon itself?” James pressed.

  “We identified most of its serial number from the debris, it led us to a batch of launchers built in China for their marines fifteen years ago,” Johnston explained. He shook his head and shrugged. “I’m afraid that trail has gone cold too. After the Karacknid attack on Earth and the merging of the UN forces into the Imperial Marines, the records of the missiles were lost. They could have been stolen or simply misplaced at any point over the last two years. I don’t think we’re going to learn anything more from the launcher.”

  “And that’s all you have,” James said as he sat forward, frustration filling his voice. “Surely given what we know about their M.O. you can at least narrow down the list of potential culprits? There are only so many factions on Earth that are hostile to Christine and I that have the capabilities to pull something like this off.”

  “You’re right Emperor, but our investigations into all of them have found nothing,” Johnston responded. “There’s no indication that the groups we’ve been monitoring knew about this attack. Most if not all have actually denounced it over the last four days. Whilst they want to see an end to the Empire, killing you and Christine is not how they’d like to do it. Of course, we haven’t taken them at their word but monitoring their communications and activities has not given us any indication that one of the groups we know about planned this.”

  “All right, so that’s as far as the evidence has taken you,” James acknowledged reluctantly. “Tell me, what do your instincts suggest?” As he spoke, James leant forward. He suspected this was as close as he was going to get to an answer before having to obey Christine and leave with his fleet.

  Johnston paused for a second before tapping on his datapad a couple of times and flicking his finger. A 3D image appeared as Johnston’s desk holo projector came to life. The image showed more than a hundred faces, each with a series of bullet points listed beside them. “These are all the main players we still have not accounted for from Governor Culthrapori’s militia on New Delhi. We suspect most of them have gone to ground on New Delhi. They’ll be rooted out sooner or later. Though a more detailed analysis of civilian traffic in the weeks after New Delhi joined the Empire suggests that several of them may have gone off world. Russell’s intelligence analysists think they just wanted to go into hiding.”

  “But you don’t?” James pushed.

  “It’s only a hunch at this stage,” Johnston replied. “But seeing as we’ve ruled out all the major factions that have been stirring unrest here on Earth and in the nearby systems. Either a new faction has formed, one that is more openly violent than the ones we know about, or enough of Culthrapori’s militia escaped to continue to function.” Johnston tapped on his datapad again. One image grew as the rest shrank. “This is Kilian Agarwal. Interrogation of the militia we captured indicated that he was Culthrapori’s head of counterintelligence. It was his job to infiltrate and root out the different groups agitating against Culthrapori’s rule. We never caught him on New Delhi and interrogating those from his team who we did capture indicates that Agarwal dispatched several agents out of the New Delhi system before we arrived. There’s no way of knowing where they were sent. But if they were sent here, then they have been here for more than a year. If they’ve been setting up a small covert operation since then, they could easily have the means in place to attack Christine’s shuttle. If Agarwal is involved, then he has the means and the motive. Culthrapori’s militia had no problem using violence on New Delhi and I cannot see why they would restrain themselves here. Not if they want revenge against you and Christine.”

  James stared at the image of Agarwal, his anger bubbling up within him. Johnston could be wrong. It could be some other group who had attacked his wife. Yet as he looked into Agarwal’s eyes, it was easy to imagine Agarwal was a cold-blooded killer. Johnston didn’t have to say it for James’ mind to follow his logic. “And if they had the means and motive to attack once. They’ll not hesitate to try again and again until they succeed,” he concluded.

  Johnston nodded slowly. “I’m afraid so Emperor. Even if they don’t specifically target Christine, they are likely to want to cause as much havoc as they can. If they were loyal to Culthrapori, then they’re already facing charges of war crimes on New Delhi. They have nothing to lose. That makes them dangerous.”

  “And, if they have counterintelligence training, almost impossible to hunt down,” James said as fear began to compete with his anger.

  “I’m afraid so,” Johnston agreed. “But we may have one thing working in our favor. If it is Agarwal and his associates, they will be very reluctant to use Earth’s public transport system. Every passenger in a shuttle or maglev train is checked and recorded. Look at the locations that have come up in the investigation so far.” Johnston changed the holo projector image to show a map of southern France and Switzerland. “Nice, Toulouse and the Imperial Palace. If I was
running a covert operation and had free access to Earth’s transport infrastructure, I’d recruit my shooter from somewhere far away from the apartment I intended to watch the attack from. And yet they are only a few hundred miles apart. That suggests we’re looking for someone or a group that are known to us. Their faces and files would set off alarms if they tried to get on a shuttle. Somehow they managed to get to Earth through our customs checks. That’s why Russell’s up there reviewing the security logs. But now that they are here, their movements may be restricted.”

  “So if their range of travel is restricted, they may still be in southern France,” James surmised, his eyes narrowing as he took in the major metropolitan areas Johnston was showing. “They could be there right now,” James added as his teeth tightened together.

  “They could, and that gives us an advantage. One more lead if you like. We’ve already increased checks on all people entering and leaving France, Spain, Switzerland, and Italy. We’re increasing surveillance drones and imaging devices in most of the cities as well. Without knowing who Agarwal’s accomplices are, we’re not expecting immediate results, but the more eyes we have on this area and the harder we make it for anyone to leave, the tighter we can put a noose around their necks. If nothing else, it means that if they do try something else, we’ll have a far greater chance of spotting them when they come out in the open.”

 

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