Hard Strike

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Hard Strike Page 21

by Eric Thomson


  Morrow gave Decker a curious glance.

  “I can ask the Financial Crimes Division if they know. Are you thinking cui bono? Who might profit from Silfax’s destruction?”

  “If the Coalition is funding this terrorist movement through local friends and hangers-on, it will make sure they don’t suffer losses.”

  “Eliminate victims and focus on more likely suspects to sniff out the inevitable money trail that leads to the DSA.” Talyn nodded in agreement. “It’s not much, but anything helps at this juncture.”

  “So we can cross Valerian Industries off the list of terrorist financiers?” Galdi asked.

  “Provisionally. One automated cargo ship, which might have been due for the knacker’s yard anyway, isn’t much of a loss compared to something like the Silfax Mining Complex.”

  The inspector caressed his luxuriant beard while he considered Decker’s statement.

  “So you think the Cimmerian governor general’s family could be involved in something designed to destabilize the very government ruling this system under the aegis of a Valerian? Interesting.”

  “The Coalition’s ultimate goal is to strip sovereign star systems of their independence and make them answerable to Earth rather than their citizens. Success would create a lot of opportunities for well-placed supporters to gain more power and riches, especially if they’re no longer forced to contend with such inconveniences as the will of the people.”

  Bonta turned a smirk on the Marine.

  “There you go cheering folks up again, Major.”

  He winked at her.

  “Story of my life, Sergeant. Sit me down with a vintage Shrehari ale, and I could tell you tales guaranteed to make the most optimistic among us lose faith in humanity.”

  “Sadly, he’s not joking,” Talyn said. “And on that note, maybe Arno can tell us what his Gendarmerie contact found out about Alasdair Malter, Alek Mannsbach, and Magda Annear?”

  “Magda was seen arriving at the Archeron spaceport yesterday morning aboard a privately chartered shuttle. She departed the spaceport in an aircar registered to Pavel Yagudin, who owns what they euphemistically call a hunting lodge in the Uttara Kuru foothills, so it’s probably safe to assume that’s where she is at the moment.”

  “I thought Magda and her husband weren’t on speaking terms these days,” Decker said.

  “She could be the lodge’s sole occupant under their separation agreement. Besides, Yagudin left Cimmeria a few weeks ago on business. He has interests in every corner of the sector.”

  “Okay.” Decker rubbed his chin. “Interesting, but it doesn’t tell us anything useful other than she’s not staying with her mother.”

  “The Senate is in session, which means Nerys Annear is on Earth.”

  “What about Malter and his alter ego Mannsbach?”

  “My friend gave me a data dump of everything the Cimmerian government has on both names. You’ll like this. According to the records, Alasdair Malter died in an accident eighteen months ago. Apparently, you interrogated a corpse on Mission Colony.”

  Decker’s eyebrows crept up. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Talyn.

  “Any chance he was lying about his real name?”

  She shook her head.

  “No.”

  “I should say not. As soon as I saw Malter was long gone, I checked the biometric data you copied from Mannsbach’s ID against that in Malter’s dossier. It matches,” Galdi said. “The story gets better. Alasdair Malter was a known member of the Cimmerian Unity Institute, one of the radical fringe groups absorbed by the DSA along with the Initiative for Democracy and the Solidarity Movement. He was an assistant professor of social history at Archeron University.”

  “How did he die?”

  “In a climbing accident. He was part of a group, mostly Unity Institute members, on a two-week expedition in the Uttara Kuru Mountains. Apparently, Malter’s lost his footing while the party was crossing one of the deepest ravines in the entire range. As he tried to recover, his safety harness failed, and he fell hundreds of meters into an underground river.”

  “Convenient. I suppose they never found the body?”

  “Of course not, Commander. The Uttara Kuru region is an untamed alien wilderness where several dozen bold spirits lose their lives every year because of overweening ambition and unrestrained curiosity. His wasn’t the first body to vanish without a trace. Based on the testimony of eight witnesses and a forensic analysis of their gear, it didn’t take long for the courts to declare Malter deceased due to misadventure.”

  “And Alek Mannsbach?”

  “He’s an immigrant from Merseaux who arrived on Cimmeria about eighteen months ago, shortly after Malter’s death.”

  “What a coincidence,” Decker said in a droll tone.

  “Oh, I’m not done yet, my dear Major. Would you care to hazard a guess who sponsored Mannsbach so he not only had a job upon arrival but would enjoy early admissibility for citizenship?”

  “The Deep Space Foundation?”

  Galdi tapped the side of his bulbous nose with an extended index finger.

  “Indeed. Louis Sorne’s pretend not-for-profit. Needless to say, the Cimmerian government knows nothing about Mannsbach’s history before his arrival, but in the year and a half since, he’s been a model citizen. Would you like to guess his primary place of residence?”

  “Archeron?”

  “Right again.”

  “He works, or rather worked for one of Sorne’s subsidiaries as a traveling sales executive, the Kusan Export Corporation.”

  “Not a bad cover for someone going around the sector handing Mayhem bricks and untraceable credits to radical groups who dream of revolution. Anything else on Mannsbach?”

  “Other than he left Cimmeria one month ago for Mission Colony and hasn’t returned, no. I’ll give you everything I received from my friend so you can peruse it at your leisure.”

  “We can peruse it during our flight to Archeron,” Talyn said. “Zack and I need to become Eva Cortez and her personal goon, Piet Yorik. They’re on Cimmeria because things went sideways on Mission Colony. We’ll approach Mannsbach’s boss at the Kusan Export Corporation and pick it up from there.”

  “Do you intend to apply the same interrogation techniques you used on Mannsbach?” Morrow asked.

  “I’d rather use guile and worm my way into the DSA, but time is short. We will do whatever is necessary to find the MHX and neutralize the radicals.”

  Morrow crossed her arms and gave Talyn a hard look.

  “Keep in mind that as a law enforcement officer, I cannot condone anything that would violate star system or federal law. If it becomes known we feds, Fleet or Constabulary, are subjecting citizens to illegal interrogation, or worse, how do you think the Cimmerian authorities would react? There are many ways to help push a government deeper into crisis. A serious rift between star system and federal law enforcement because the latter willfully ignored a planned violation of the former’s laws is one of those. Unsanctioned interrogation of their citizens by the Commonwealth military is about as serious as it can get for sovereign star system governments.”

  “Even if an incalculable amount of lives are at stake?” Decker asked in a harsh tone.

  “An argument as old as humanity, Major. If we show the same blatant disregard for the law as our enemies, we lose the moral high ground and more importantly, our legitimacy in the eyes of civilians. Besides, any Constabulary member who has foreknowledge of an illegal act, such as unlawfully detaining and questioning citizens, must act lest he or she become the target of a PCB investigation. It’s one thing to bandy about the notion of interrogating and terminating terrorists with extreme prejudice in idle conversation. But you’re now actually planning to carry out an unsanctioned operation involving Cimmerian citizens.”

  “So what’s the answer, Caelin?” Talyn asked, her right eyebrow cocked in question. “We wait until the Gendarmerie amasses evidence that’ll stand up in court before rousting kn
own enemies of Cimmerian democracy? You want to tell the families of the next victims you’re sorry we couldn’t stop the DSA in time, but at least we kept the moral high ground?”

  Anger wiped away Morrow’s usual stoicism.

  “That’s bloody unfair, Hera, and you know it. Cops who disregard the law in small matters end up thinking they’re above it and that’s when civil society unravels. You play by your rules, questionable as they might be for people like us, and we play by ours. It’s best if we don’t cross the lines separating us because once we do, there’s no turning back. What happened on Aquilonia was something I don’t care to repeat. I often questioned how I can keep heading the Rim Sector detachment of the Professional Compliance Bureau after letting myself be roped into signing off on the fiction you created. As a result, I’d rather not find myself in a similar position unless it’s in extremis, and since we cannot, as yet, even exercise jurisdiction over the Silfax and Valerian Theta incidents, we’re not close to that point.”

  She paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

  “I hereby counsel you to avoid breaking Cimmerian and federal laws. Should you nonetheless do so, the Commonwealth Constabulary will disavow any knowledge of your intentions and cooperate with Cimmerian authorities in the investigation and prosecution of any crimes.”

  “In other words, don’t tell me what you intend and don’t get caught.” Decker nodded once. “Gotcha. Could we impose on you to book us flights on the next suborbital run across the Borrachas Sea?”

  Talyn climbed to her feet.

  “Caelin, seeing as how the Gendarmerie implemented heightened security measures, would it be possible to obtain credentials under our cover names, allowing us to pass through their controls with our sidearms?”

  “Will your sidearms be used to commit unlawful acts?”

  Decker raised his right hand and said in a solemn voice, “I swear my gun is for self-defense only.”

  Morrow studied Zack’s guileless face before giving him a grudging nod.

  “I’ll make the necessary arrangements right away. And the credentials will be in your real names, with rank and branch of service identifiers, not in whatever cover names you might plan on using to cover your tracks. You can become Cortez and Yorik once you’re in Archeron.”

  Talyn inclined her head.

  “Fair enough. Thank you. There’s one more favor I’d like to ask, Caelin.”

  “Yes?”

  “In case Zack and I go silent for whatever reason, we still need a way to stay informed of events and communicate with you. Something like a dead drop.”

  “If you’ll allow me, Chief,” Galdi said. “An encrypted node on the darknet, something idle searchers won’t find. I can set one up in a matter of minutes. You’ll be able to access it from anywhere, given the exact address and passcodes.”

  Morrow glanced at her inspector with eyes narrowed in thought.

  “I suppose it makes sense. Go ahead, Arno.” She turned back to Talyn. “And I’d like to ask for something in return.”

  “Sure.”

  “I assume your communicators come from the Naval Intelligence equipment stores?”

  “Yes. Dual function. Anyone without the codes to access the classified part will think they’re no different from civilian versions.”

  “Can the spy half send a location signal to the Navy satellites orbiting Cimmeria, one that the bad guys can’t decode?”

  “Yes, although anyone with the right gear will notice that signal even if they can’t make out what it is and where it’s addressed.”

  “Turn it on and show me how to query the satellites.”

  “Are you worried about us? Don’t be. We’re used to operating without backup.”

  “Humor me, Hera.”

  “You’ll need to connect with Sixth Fleet HQ’s downlink node.”

  “We already have access to it.”

  “In that case...” She fished out her communicator and tapped its screen with her thumb in an irregular rhythm. “There. Done. I’ve sent you the identifier.”

  “Zack as well, please.”

  “Roger, that.”

  Morrow’s communicator chimed once again. She gave it an irritated glance, then her eyes widened by a fraction.

  “Prime Minister Calvo’s office is calling. I’ll put in on the main display.”

  — Thirty-One —

  A young woman’s grave mien replaced the Constabulary arrow and scales of justice. “Chief Superintendent Morrow, my name is Kamille Filteau. I’m one of the prime minister’s aides. He wishes to speak with Commander Talyn and Major Decker. Are they available?”

  Morrow zoomed out the conference room’s video pickup.

  “As you can see, they’re with me.”

  “Thank you. Please stand by for the prime minister.”

  Filteau’s face dissolved and the Great Seal of Cimmeria briefly took its place before the star system’s head of government appeared.

  Matthanias Calvo bore a striking resemblance to the images Decker once saw of statues and bas-reliefs showing ancient Athenian politicians. Gray-haired and bearded, with a shiny, high forehead, sharp nose, thin lips, and forceful, deep-set eyes, he struck the Marine as someone able to separate lies from the truth. He wore a somber expression.

  “Thank you for making time to speak with me. Chief Superintendent, I’m aware our Gendarmerie doesn’t always play nice with your people, but those of us in the know appreciate your sense of duty.” His gaze turned to Talyn. “Commander, I can’t adequately express how glad I am that fate brought you and your colleague to our planet at this time of turmoil.” Finally, he locked eyes with the Marine. “And you must be Major Zachary Decker, the explosives expert.”

  “I’m not sure about the expert tag, sir. But I can distinguish Mayhem from Compound Mark Twenty-Two.”

  “I won’t even ask what this Compound Mark Twenty-Two might be. General Dubnikov speaks highly of the briefing you gave the Gendarmerie’s senior leadership earlier, and that’s enough for me.”

  “The general is most kind, Prime Minister.”

  “He’s also a good judge of people. A steady stream of generals, bureaucrats, and aides has briefed me ever since the Silfax Mining Complex vanished beneath a massive fireball, but none of them seemed to know a damn thing until you showed up.”

  “We’re at your entire disposal, sir. Ask, and we’ll do our best to answer.”

  Calvo let out a soft snort.

  “That’s the first time a federal official ever said anything of the sort in my hearing.”

  “We don’t consider ourselves federal officials in the bureaucratic sense, sir,” Talyn replied. “Major Decker and I are officers in the Commonwealth Armed Services, sworn to serve and defend without limitations.”

  The Cimmerian prime minister raised a hand by way of apology.

  “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “So far, I’ve heard little more than the sum of my advisers’ fears. We are not used to violent radicals, terrorists, or insurgents in this star system. Cimmeria has been mercifully peaceful since the Shrehari withdrew after the armistice back when my father was a young man. What has transpired since yesterday morning is beyond our experience. And more to the point, beyond the Gendarmerie’s and the National Guard’s experience. Granted, our homegrown radicals seem to have multiplied in the last two or three years even though we enjoyed a remarkable degree of civil peace for decades, but this sudden violence is inexplicable. Malcontents are a fact of life even in the freest societies, but they rarely use restricted military-grade explosives to demand what they call social justice.”

  “Certainly not the Mayhem compound, sir,” Decker replied, “but Commander Talyn and I have seen an escalation of tactics by various radical groups across the Rim Sector in recent months. Though none as extreme as what we saw at Silfax or the preplanned detonation which destroyed the Valerian Theta.”

  “And that is o
ne of my questions, Major. How does a group such as the Democratic Stars Alliance obtain an explosive compound so powerful the very knowledge of its existence is classified as top secret by the Commonwealth Armed Services?”

  “Once we find the answer to that question, sir, we will know who needs termination with extreme prejudice,” Talyn said.

  “Lex talionis, Commander? An eye for an eye?”

  “Special Operations Command’s unofficial motto, sir. The Second Migration War’s mass killings enshrined the principle of permanently removing perpetrators of atrocities from the human gene pool.”

  “An understandable sentiment, even if it runs contrary to many legal principles that served humanity well over the centuries.”

  “That’s because we dispense justice, sir,” Decker said, “not legalities. Too many innocents die when we tiptoe around the fact that there are people who simply need killing before they murder more innocents, such as those responsible for Silfax.”

  Calvo inclined his leonine head in acknowledgment.

  “I understand the sentiment, even though the idea of capital punishment dispensed extrajudicially disturbs the lawyer in me. But I didn’t call you to debate the philosophical differences between laws devised by human beings and natural justice, interesting as the subject might be. You said you didn’t know how the DSA obtained this Mayhem. Did it perchance come from a Fleet ammunition depot on Cimmeria?”

  “No, sir.” Decker shook his head. “Neither the Cimmeria Regiment nor the Sixth Fleet hold it in their inventories. It’s kept in maybe half a dozen places across the Commonwealth and Cimmeria isn’t one of those.”

  “You sound terribly sure of that, Major.”

  “I’m a Master Gunner, sir. Explosives are one of my specialties.”

  “So someone brought this devilish compound to our star system as part of a plan aimed at destabilizing my government.”

  “Yes, Prime Minister. And if the stuff is properly packed and hidden inside a shipping container, it’s virtually undetectable by routine customs scans.”

 

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