Hard Strike

by Eric Thomson

  “It figures ComCorp would come into the equation.”

  “Termoli’s another habitual attendee at Locarno, but Magda also dines with him at least once a month.”

  “Did Financial Crimes pick up on that?”

  Bonta nodded.

  “When they were looking for evidence Annear might be complicit with Sorne. She also has occasional dealings with people lower in the Deep Space Foundation’s food chain and those of Sorne’s various businesses, and ComCorp. But no one who’s come to our or the Gendarmerie’s attention. One last item of note, Magda retained Sorne’s company, CimmerTek Security Solutions to provide bodyguards. But according to my Gendarmerie contact, if rumors are true, she has a small mercenary company at her disposal, most of them operating from the hunting lodge south of Archeron which is reputedly a small fortress. And that’s it, Chief.”

  “What did you find, Arno?”

  “Two things. First, our Magda’s quite the traveler, and second, she cleaned out Pavel Yagudin in their separation agreement. Painfully so.”

  “Why would she clean him out? The Annears are as wealthy as the Yagudins.”

  “Yes.” A sly smile split Galdi’s beard. “But from what my Gendarmerie contact told me, Magda’s relationship with a mother obsessed by politics was never particularly good, and she fell out of favor with Bronwen after her father’s death over a dispute about the provisions of his will. The falling out, apparently, was of epic proportions with Magda threatening Bronwen’s life. As a result, without easy and unrestricted access to the Annear fortune, she had little besides Yagudin’s money to finance her lifestyle.”

  “Right.” A thoughtful frown creased Morrow’s forehead. “I see the outline of a picture.”

  “You and me both, Chief,” Galdi replied. “And judging by the look on her face, our good sergeant is also seeing it.”

  “What about the travel, Arno?”

  “Until about eighteen months ago, she left Cimmeria once or twice a year, mostly with Pavel on business trips around the sector. Then, shortly after they separated, she took a long trip to Pacifica on one of the White Star liners, Cymric. Of course, her booking said Pacifica, but she could have left the ship at any other port along its route. Confirming it would take weeks. Soon after her return from Pacifica, she did the Rim Sector circuit twice, but on various freighters, such as Thebes and Xenophon. Again, finding out where she stepped off would take weeks, but Thebes’ stop before Mission Colony on the latest run was Merseaux and before that, Scandia.”

  “Hmm.” Morrow sat back and studied Magda Annear’s image. “Do we know why she split up with Pavel Yagudin?”

  Galdi shook his head.

  “No. But Financial Crimes believe Yagudin and Sorne to be bitter rivals beneath the apparent cordiality. Their differing views on political matters might play a major part in that.”

  “Political views and fundamental values, if you ask me,” Bonta said. “The Yagudins, Pavel included, enjoy a well-earned reputation for integrity. Louis Sorne, wouldn’t know integrity if it bit him on the rear end.”

  “So I understand.” Morrow’s fingers briefly danced on the tabletop. “I’d like to see a timeline. When did Magda first become chummy with Sorne and Termoli? When did she join the Foundation’s board of directors? That sort of thing. Add in her travels and the familial difficulties with her aunt, mother, and husband. And anything on Hakkam’s role as her godfather.”

  Bonta nodded.

  “Give me a few minutes, Chief. I’ll throw what we know up on the screen.”

  “Are you thinking Magda fell into Sorne’s orbit and at his urging, offered herself to the Coalition because she became disenchanted with her family?” Galdi asked. “Considering her profile on Cimmeria and her access to the sector’s power brokers, she’d be one hell of an asset. Who would suspect Senator Annear’s daughter of conspiring against the Cimmerian government on behalf of offworld interests?”

  “Who indeed? Yes, that’s my working theory right now.”

  “You understand what that means, right?”

  “I do. Hera and Zack could have walked into a trap as evidenced by their location signals vanishing at Magda’s lodge. Our friends may be masters of disguise, but they’re hardly perfect, and she saw them in person only a few days ago aboard Thebes.”

  “Or even more recently via video as their real selves if she has people inside the Gendarmerie or the government. Didn’t Hera leave word this morning at the dead drop she thought someone followed them from Howard’s Landing? We call her and Zack Super Spooks in jest, but two against fifty of CimmerTek’s best, mostly veterans of various police, military or mercenary organizations?”

  “I know, Arno. We can’t blithely go to Colonel Joubert with this information, in case his team is compromised.”

  “If he’ll even entertain the notion Magda Annear could be on the enemy’s side. She’s hardly what one sees when picturing murderous radicals determined to overthrow a legitimate, democratic star system government.”

  “Which is precisely the point, I suppose, if she’s to be the designated savior who’ll put things right after Calvo asks the governor general to dissolve parliament and call for a government of national salvation.” Morrow exhaled noisily. “Besides, DCC Maras won’t let us mount an operation against the lodge, not even surveillance, without Gendarmerie approval, never mind buying into my theory.”

  “Chief, I drafted a rough timeline based on what the inspector and I dug up so far.” Bonta nodded toward the display.

  “It’s no smoking bomb crater,” Morrow said after studying the results of Bonta’s work. “And completely circumstantial, but I’m sure something happened to Magda Annear shortly after her father died.”

  “Agreed, Chief. But what can we do with this information? As you said, neither Joubert nor DCC Maras will see it as anything more than speculation. Magda is one of Cimmeria’s leading citizens.”

  “Pray our Super Spooks can talk themselves out of whatever trap might have caught them.”

  “Or that their promised backup gets here before it’s too late.”

  Morrow abruptly looked at her communicator.

  “Colonel Joubert is calling. I’ll route it to the main display.”

  Bonta’s timeline faded away replaced by the Gendarmerie officer’s face.

  “Good afternoon, Chief Superintendent.” Joubert wore the expression of a man overtaken by events.

  “Colonel. To what do we owe the honor?”

  “Director General Dubnikov has questions for Commander Talyn and Major Decker. Could I speak with them?”

  “I’m sorry, but no. They’re following up on an idea and are incommunicado at the moment.”

  “What idea would that be?”

  “They didn’t say.”

  A frown creased Joubert’s high forehead.

  “Where did they go and when will they be back?”

  “The where is Archeron. When, I don’t know.”

  “That’s very inconvenient.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Thank you, Chief Superintendent, but no. If you hear from them, please call me. I’m heading to Locarno within the hour.”

  “Oh? The annual conference? It’s still on, even under the circumstances?”

  Joubert nodded.

  “Yes, it is. More than half the participants come from every system in the Rim Sector and arrived before the DSA began its campaign. Besides, the organizers see a cancelation as yielding to terrorism, and that isn’t on. But it means a tripling of security. The Gendarmerie canceled all vacation leave, and Prime Minister Calvo placed the National Guard’s rapid reaction units on active duty. As of this morning, Locarno is the most heavily defended spot on Cimmeria. I’ll be the anti-terrorism team’s liaison with the joint Gendarmerie and National Guard Locarno Conference protection task force.”

  “I see. Try to enjoy yourself nonetheless. It’s blessed with some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet.”

/>   “Thank you, Chief Superintendent. Goodbye.”

  Joubert’s image faded as the display returned to standby mode.

  Morrow exchanged a puzzled glance with Galdi.

  “What do you figure that was about?”

  “Couldn’t say. Perhaps the added duties imposed by the conference is causing just a bit of unneeded stress.”

  “Or his people noticed Decker and Talyn taking a flight to Archeron and he called with a bullshit excuse to confirm the sighting,” Bonta proposed.

  Galdi and Morrow stared at the sergeant for a few seconds.

  “Why use an excuse instead of asking outright?” The latter asked in a thoughtful tone.

  Galdi made a dubious face.

  “He didn’t want it to seem as if the Gendarmerie’s been tracking Commonwealth officers?”

  “Possibly.”

  “I’m curious. Why didn’t you use the occasion to mention Magda Annear in passing, Chief? Open the conversation and feel him out? She’s a regular Locarno attendee, one with a high public profile.”

  “Something held me back, but don’t ask what that was, Arno.” She paused, chewed on her lower lip for a moment, then said, “Please see if we can access one of the Navy satellites in geosynchronous and put eyes on Annear’s hunting lodge.”

  “What do I say if they want to know why?”

  “Tell them it concerns an ongoing federal investigation, and I’m asking under the applicable memorandum of understanding between the Armed Services and the Constabulary.”

  — Thirty-Six —

  Collette, this time unarmed, entered the suite after a perfunctory knock on the door shortly after thirteen hundred hours.

  “Our chief executive invites you to the midday meal.”

  “How kind,” Talyn replied. “We accept, of course.”

  “The dining room is at the end of the hall. Please follow me.”

  She turned around and, after a last glance over her shoulder, led them to a room as big as their entire suite. A table with four place settings but easily capable of accommodating twenty occupied its center, beneath a long, rectangular lighting fixture made of stained glass joined by thin copper molding. A settee group occupied one corner, near a bank of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the distant Uttara Kuru range, while a wet bar occupied another.

  Allyson stood by a side table near the bar where she’d laid out their weapons, communicators, and bags. But when Decker came toward her, she raised a restraining hand.

  “Only once I receive permission to return your belongings. Please help yourselves to a drink instead.”

  According to Decker’s internal clock, almost twenty minutes passed before Hadar Wilborg entered and joined Allyson. Then, the woman who bore a haunting resemblance to Zack’s lost love, Avril Ducote, swept in and headed for them, eyes locked on Zack’s. It took every bit of his willpower to stay impassive, but something in her gaze told him he’d failed.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Magda Annear, chief executive of the Democratic Stars Alliance. Welcome to my lodge.” She offered Talyn her hand. “You must be Eva Cortez, of the Mission Colony Freedom Collective.”

  “I am.” Talyn nodded at her partner. “And he’s Piet Yorik, my head of security.”

  Annear gave Decker a polite nod. “Ser Yorik.” Then she turned back to Talyn as if dismissing him as a bit player. “I heard of Gustav Kerlin’s tragic death at the hands of a professional assassin, Sera Cortez. Please accept my deepest sympathies.”

  “Thank you and call me Eva.”

  “Do you know who carried out the deed? Political rivals? Or was it a personal grudge?”

  Talyn shook her head with an air of regret.

  “No idea. It could be either. Gustav made several enemies over the years. But my inclination is to call it political since someone blew up the kilo of MHX-19 Alek Mannsbach gave us and thereby destroyed our beach house and its immediate surroundings.”

  “Most unfortunate.”

  “I’m hoping the colonial administration deems it a meteorite strike, but we left before hearing any official declaration on the matter.”

  “And made good time. You arrived here when? Yesterday or the day before? The ship I was traveling in briefly touched down at Ventano spaceport two days after Gustav’s death, and I arrived only the day before yesterday.”

  Annear put on a quizzical expression and paused to let Talyn explain how they reached Cimmeria from Mission Colony.

  “We have friends in the interstellar shipping community, Magda. One of them, who prefers to remain anonymous because of his business dealings, did me a favor and pushed his drives as hard as he dared.”

  “Your anonymous friend wouldn’t be someone with a penchant for body art, perhaps?”

  Talyn let a smile briefly cross her lips.

  “I couldn’t possibly comment.”

  “Funny, but I figured you might say something of the sort. Fair enough. Everyone is acquainted with people who’d rather stay in the shadows.”

  Annear’s gaze dropped to the items on the side table. She reached out, grasped Decker’s Shrehari blaster, and examined it from every angle.

  “Now where did I see this unusual weapon before?”

  “They’re not uncommon among Marine Corps and Army veterans,” he replied. “A trophy rechambered for our power packs and ammunition. You might have seen them carried by security personnel over the years.”

  “No. It was quite recently.” She put it back and picked up Talyn’s blaster. “This one seems familiar as well.”

  “It’s a model in widespread use,” Talyn said, “easily obtained from any weapons dealer. I bought mine in Ventano,"

  “Still... I glimpsed weapons identical to these in the hands of mercenaries who called themselves Lena Taryen and Ned Sarkin a few days ago. They saved me from abduction while Thebes was crossing the Cimmeria system’s heliopause, so I suppose I owe them a debt of gratitude.”

  Annear glanced up at them, looking for a hint of something, but both operatives met her gaze with impassive eyes.

  “I gather I’m not the only one with unidentified enemies,” Talyn said. “Any idea who yours are?”

  “Not a clue, unfortunately. My saviors thought they might belong to the Confederacy of the Howling Stars.” Annear gestured toward the dining table. “Shall we sit?”

  “Confederacy? I’m not sure about that.”

  Wilborg caught Talyn’s eye and indicated the chair facing Annear while he and Decker sat across from each other.

  “Why?”

  “My friends in the shipping community are related. Let’s just say they wouldn’t go after those working to reform the Rim Sector’s politics. It wouldn’t be in their interest.”

  Annear spread the cloth napkin across her lap and nodded with a thoughtful air.

  “My thoughts, if not exactly, then near enough. Still, they would have succeeded without the mercenaries’ prompt intervention.”

  Serving droids filed into the room from the door behind the wet bar, each bearing a plate.

  “Our first course. This is native smoked Red Piscis, a fish analog similar to Earth salmon. I’d love to hear your opinion about its delicate taste. Enjoy.”

  When Decker sat back, his plate cleared of every last morsel, Annear asked, “How was it?”

  “Lovely. Best thing I’ve eaten since leaving Mission.”

  “I’m so glad. Might I ask you a personal question, Ser Yorik?”

  “Sure.” Decker picked up his wine glass and savored a sip of the Cimmerian Grigio while the droids switched out their plates. “We’re all friends here.”

  “When I entered the room, earlier, I noticed something in your eyes. Recognition, perhaps? Could I ask what it was?”

  Decker’s sigh wasn’t entirely feigned.

  “You bear an uncanny resemblance to someone who was once very near and dear. She died many years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He made a dismissive gesture.

 
“I’ve traveled many light years since. The heart heals. If not completely then enough to continue living.”

  “Indeed it does. Might I inquire about her?”

  “Sure.”

  Decker thought he felt Talyn tense beside him, a warning to reconsider revealing his innermost thoughts. But the Marine’s instincts told him neither Annear nor Wilborg believed they were the Mission Colony Freedom Collective’s leaders in exile.

  A bit of honesty might help dispel their doubts. Besides, fighting the urge to find out if there was a link between the woman in front of him and the one living in his memories was a lost battle.

  “You’re almost the spitting image of a long-dead merchant starship captain by the name Avril Ducote. I spent some of my happiest moments with her.”

  Neither Decker nor Talyn was prepared for Annear’s reaction. She leaned back and stared at them, as if robbed of speech.

  After a moment, Annear asked, “Avril? Are you saying you knew her?”

  A confused silence smothered the dining room.

  “Who was Avril Ducote to you, Sera Annear?” Decker finally said with a faint catch in his voice.

  Annear fixed a stare on him.

  “My half-sister. We shared the same father. Avril is the product of a relationship predating his marriage to my mother, one that happened far from the Cimmeria system. I never met Avril, and she never knew about me, but our father kept in touch until she reached her majority. According to him, we resemble each other to the point of seeming like fraternal twins. Or rather resembled if she’s dead. How did you come to know her and what happened?”

  “After retiring from the Armed Services, I worked as a starship security officer for a few years before settling on Mission Colony. I met Avril on Pacifica after my ship was paid off. She hired me, and it turned into more than just a working relationship. We became pair-bonded. One day, years ago, pirates wrecked and boarded our ship Demetria out near the Coalsack sector. We fought them, but Avril took a large-caliber round in the gut and without immediate medical care...”

  Decker shrugged helplessly, the pain of loss still shining in his eyes.

  “They took me captive and abandoned Avril in deep space. I eventually escaped but found no mention of Demetria or her fate anywhere. News of the attack never made it to Lloyds, and they simply wrote her off as lost, cause unknown.”