by Eric Thomson
“Understood. Let me see what I can do in here with what I presume are people loyal to the Cimmerian constitution and its duly elected government, if Annear targeted them for death. Take Joubert to Howard’s Landing and lean on him. Names, dates, everything. Then I’ll have a long discussion with Director General Dubnikov, Prime Minister Calvo, and Governor General Valerian. We’ll see who squirms the most.”
— Forty-Four —
Two blurry shapes, almost indistinguishable from the background vegetation slipped through the dense, primeval Cimmerian forest without noise or leaving a trace. They soon crested a low hill overlooking the prairie-like expanse of grass surrounding the Mill Haven Minimum Security Village, known by some as Cimmeria’s Gilded Cage. It housed only the non-violent wealthy and powerful who’d fallen afoul of star system or Commonwealth laws.
The larger of the chameleon ghillie-suited intruders quickly found a suitable spot overlooking Mill Haven’s lavish exercise yard, almost one and a half kilometers away. He assembled a bipod-equipped Falkenberg Longbow Mark Five railgun topped by a Hammer Optics sniper scope while his companion put together a more powerful spotting telescope, also manufactured by Hammer Optics. The gun was a twin to the one that killed Gustav Kerlin and came from the armory of Number 6 Company, B Squadron, 1st Special Forces Regiment, as did the ghillie suits and the spotting scope.
Once they were satisfied their gear was ready and functional, they crawled through the last bit of undergrowth and into position, invisible to anyone more than a few meters distant, including the prison’s perimeter sensor array. At least until the sniper powered up his railgun to prepare for the kill shot.
Sniper and spotter waited almost an hour for their target to leave the cottage he shared with three other inmates. Unlike the day before, when they’d carried out their reconnaissance, a younger companion accompanied the old man.
“Hakkam is with the target,” Talyn said in a whisper so low only Decker could hear.
“Twofer?” Zack Decker replied in the same tone.
“Sorne’s the priority. If you can’t put a clear bead on Hakkam, don’t try. Terminating him isn’t essential at this time.”
“Roger.” Decker pulled the railgun’s stock hard against his shoulder and slowed his breathing. Louis Sorne’s lined, sagging features filled the sniper scope.
“I’ve acquired the target.”
Talyn studied Sorne and his companion one last time.
“You’re weapons free.”
Decker’s thumb flipped on the power pack, and within two seconds, a green dot appeared in the scope, signaling the railgun was ready to fire. He took one more breath, released half of it, and then applied gentle pressure to the trigger.
The back of Sorne’s head exploded like an overripe melon striking concrete. Decker shifted his aim until Fast Tony’s swarthy face filled the scope. The Deep Space Foundation’s chief executive officer seemed rooted to the spot, incapable of processing what had just happened to his superior.
“I can take a clean shot at Hakkam.”
“Fire.”
Another stroke of the trigger and Fast Tony joined his boss in a messy death.
Talyn took a few seconds to examine both bodies and their immediate surroundings.
“Clean and clear. We can withdraw.”
They were already well away from the tree line when a lugubrious alarm siren echoed over the countryside. This time, they didn’t bother masking their trail, preferring to trade speed for concealment. Sorne was merely the latest in a long list of targets requiring termination with extreme prejudice to finish choking off Magda Annear’s attempted revolution.
With Cimmeria in disarray since the unsuccessful attempt to murder Locarno Conference attendees three days earlier, it would take the Gendarmerie a significant amount of time to react. And considering the identities of the victims, Decker and Talyn doubted investigators would carry out anything more than a perfunctory search for the assassins.
They reached their rental car, parked in a secluded spot near a woodland lane before the alarm ceased wailing, and stripped off the ghillie suits. Decker dismantled the gun and stowed it in a hard case which bore the manufacturer’s seal while Talyn did the same with her spotting scope. Then, they drove off at a sedate pace, two tourists taking in the sights north of Howard’s Landing.
**
“Chief, you need to hear this.” Arno Galdi burst into Morrow’s office, trailed by Master Sergeant Bonta.
Morrow, trying to organize her notes from Alan Joubert’s latest round of interrogations, looked up with an irritated grimace.
“It better be good. DCC Maras is waiting for my report. She’s meeting with Governor General Valerian, Prime Minister Calvo, and Director General Dubnikov at New Government House in an hour to discuss the way ahead.”
“Should be interesting, if Valerian was in cahoots with Magda.”
“He’s a born survivor and one of Cimmeria’s leading citizens, the type able to dance between raindrops and keep dry. Now, what do I need to hear?”
“Sergeant Bonta just picked up electrifying news over the Gendarmerie’s emergency band. Someone assassinated Louis Sorne and Antoine Hakkam in the Gilded Cage’s exercise yard. A long-range sniper from what the Cimmerian Correctional Service is saying, possibly using a railgun.”
Morrow’s eyes widened enough for Galdi to notice. His rumbling chuckle filled her office.
“I think we can stop mourning Commander Talyn and Major Decker. I was wondering why Mikado and the Marines were no longer accepting our calls.”
“And why suspected DSA activists were turning up dead everywhere,” Bonta added.
“If they’re responsible for Sorne and Fast Tony, then how did they escape from the nature preserve before the bomb detonated?” Morrow tapped her lower lip with an extended index finger. “Arno, can you pull air traffic control records for the hour before and after the explosion?”
“You think the Marines who were on their way that night diverted over to where we last saw their locator signal and picked them up? But why make us believe they perished?”
A spark of understanding lit up Galdi’s eyes before Morrow could answer.
“Of course. Freedom of action. Neither we nor the Cimmerians would approve of wholesale terminations. Nor would Prime Minister Calvo be pleased to know about the Fleet carrying out armed operations in his star system without so much as a by your leave, never mind the extra-judicial execution of Cimmerian citizens. But if we don’t even know whether they’re alive, let alone leading what seems to be an extensive direct action against the DSA, we can’t stop them.”
“Precisely. And that leaves me in a quandary much like the one I faced on Aquilonia. Do I share what we discussed with Maras, or do I let events take their course?”
Galdi’s shrug spoke volumes.
“We’re talking about mere suppositions, Chief. Unless someone claims responsibility for the rash of assassinations over the last couple of days, I doubt the Gendarmerie will ever find conclusive evidence, and unless Maras claims federal jurisdiction, those deaths remain a star system responsibility, not ours.”
“In other words, forget about this conversation? Is that what you suggest, Arno?”
“The DCC has enough on her plate helping our Cimmerians friends deal with the fallout so Prime Minister Calvo can keep his grip on power while Magda’s sympathizers are unmasked and arrested. Or at least those who survive SOCOM’s purge.”
“Speaking of the devil, did our Gendarmerie colleagues ever find out where Magda went after leaving Cimmeria Hall? If we can believe the governor general’s claim, she excused herself shortly after news of the DSA’s failure at Locarno got out.”
“No, Chief. Do you still want me to check air traffic control logs for the night of the explosion? It seems rather futile under the circumstances.”
Morrow let out a soft sigh.
“No. Anti-terrorism is a Fleet responsibility. Whether I like their methods or not, we’
re in no position to gainsay them.”
“Agreed.”
“And I won’t discuss our conversation with Maras. It would only muddy the waters even though the idea of SOCOM carrying out a lex talionis style operation in a sovereign star system offends the career cop in me.”
“Consider us in a war, Chief. That’s how Decker and Talyn look at it, and I can’t find much fault with their interpretation, not when the enemy won’t hesitate to kill civilians in job lots using military ordnance.”
“I’m with the inspector,” Bonta said. “The only thing I can think of is that miniature supernova blanking out the horizon two nights ago, and how many would die if the DSA set one off at the heart of Howard’s Landing. Let Major Decker’s Special Forces friends hunt those bastards down with extreme prejudice. They seem to be doing fine so far. We’ve not heard reports of any further explosions.”
Morrow glanced from one to the other and sighed again.
“Okay. Back to work helping the Gendarmerie, folks. I’ll brief Maras on the latest we squeezed out of Joubert, which I think is about the extent of what he can tell us short of letting Commander Talyn use her illegal methods.”
“When do we hand him over to the Cimmerian authorities?” Galdi asked.
“Once the Commonwealth Chief Prosecutor for the Rim Sector decides whether he wants to retain jurisdiction on the grounds Joubert aided and abetted terrorism, or let the locals take him on charges of fomenting treason against the star system government.”
Galdi rolled his eyes.
“Great. He’ll be in our cells for the next eighteen months.”
“But not our problem. Once I declare us finished, Maras will dissolve the ad hoc task force, and we return to normal duties. Joubert will belong to the Major Crimes Division from that moment on. After recent events, Maras won’t feel generous enough to let Assistant Commissioner Kristy Bujold fade into early retirement. We may well be leaving for Mission Colony before the week is out.”
“Praise the Almighty. I prefer our regular responsibilities, onerous and unpopular as they might be.” Galdi suddenly froze and held up his hand. “I think my ears picked up something on the Gendarmerie band in my office. Give me a few seconds.”
He ducked out but returned in under a minute.
“The Gendarmerie finally obtained a search warrant for Magda Annear’s hunting lodge. That was the officer in charge reporting. They found a dozen bodies, every one of them shot in the back of the head, execution style, including the elusive Hadar Wilborg, who seems to have been interrogated by an expert. The place was ransacked and basically trashed, the bodies dead for at least a day, probably longer.”
“Major Boldt’s Marines or our friendly Super Spooks?”
“No idea, but my money’s on the Marines. Whoever did it left a note saying they recovered just over fifty kilograms of MHX-19 and eight detonators, all of which are no longer on the surface of Cimmeria.”
Morrow made a face.
“I believe they call that chutzpah, but it’s nice of them to let the gendarmes know.”
“I hope those fifty kilograms represent every last bit of the aptly named Mayhem.”
“There have been no further explosions since Locarno,” Bonta pointed out. “Either Wilborg told his executioners where to find every remaining bomb, or Locarno was the last one.”
“We’ll probably never know.” She glanced upward as if to indicate the heavens. “Our answers are about to sail away with Mikado.”
“I’ll be content if Commander Talyn and Major Decker are aboard as well.”
A faint buzz sounded and Morrow glanced down at her communicator. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“If they’re not yet, they will be soon.”
“How do you figure, Chief?”
“I just received a message from an anonymous source. It said I kept my promise.”
Galdi’s eyebrows shot up.
“Talyn?”
“Without a doubt. Before she left Aquilonia, Talyn promised me she would do her utmost to avoid using us as patsies again and bring me in as a full-fledged partner.”
“Which she did to a certain extent.”
“To a great extent, Arno. We would never take part in the cleanup phase because as much as I believe the people responsible for Silfax and the near miss in Locarno deserve to be struck from the human race, I’m a cop. I cannot do anything other than apply the law as written. Talyn and Decker are under no such moral or legal constraints.”
“Thankfully,” Bonta said in a soft tone. When Galdi and Morrow turned their eyes on her, she asked, “What? We each play a role in keeping humanity safe. Theirs is simply more primal than ours.”
“I suppose you’re right, Sergeant,” Galdi replied. “As someone said long before our species spread across the galaxy, people sleep peacefully in their beds at night only because rough men and women stand ready to do violence on their behalf.”
“And on that note,” Morrow climbed wearily to her feet, “time to head for home. I think we did everything we could. The rest, what our SOCOM friends didn’t sort out, belongs to the Gendarmerie.”
— Forty-Five —
Decker glanced through the private shuttle’s aft porthole when his peripheral vision caught the unlit hangar’s personnel door opening.
“It’s show time. Magda just entered.”
“It’s about bloody time. She’s the last loose end now that Boldt’s people recovered the remaining MHX. I’d love to know where Valerian stashed her for the last three days.”
“We can always ask.”
Decker rechecked his blaster, out of habit rather than need, eyes straining in the darkened passenger compartment before settling back in his well-padded seat, one of two facing the starboard door. Talyn occupied the other.
“But why?” He continued. “Judging by what Mikado gleaned from the Gendarmerie and Constabulary communications channels, he’s not even in play. Once we send Magda to join her followers in the great beyond, our work here is done. Calvo and his cabinet can decide whether it’s time for a new governor general.”
The characteristic mechanical sounds of a spacecraft door unlatching stilled Talyn’s reply. Then, it moved inward and slid to one side. Magda Annear climbed aboard. Preoccupied with thoughts of escape, she noticed nothing was amiss at first. Then, she touched the cabin lighting controls, dispelling the gloom. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared into the barrel of Decker’s hand artillery.
“Hello, Magda,” Talyn purred. “Nice of you to join us.”
“You’re supposed to be dead,” she replied in an accusatory tone.
“And you’re remarkably well informed for someone who disappeared seventy-two hours ago when her plan went sideways.” Talyn pointed at the seat in front of them with the barrel of her gun. “Sit.”
When she didn’t move, Talyn’s voice cracked over Annear like a whip, “Sit, or Zack will break your legs.”
“Surely there’s no need to use that tone with me,” Annear replied in a voice dripping with contempt. But she obeyed, eyes searching Talyn’s face for a clue to her destiny.
“What do you want? Thanks to Joubert’s fecklessness and your untimely intervention, my plans failed. You win. The Gendarmerie hasn’t issued an arrest warrant for me yet, but I suppose it’s only a matter of time considering Hector Valerian is playing elder statesman to Calvo’s avenging fury. But good luck finding the evidence and witnesses for a terrorism or treason conviction. At best, I might do twenty-four months in the Gilded Cage for attempted sedition. A vacation, nothing more.”
“Ask Louis Sorne how he enjoyed his. Oh, that’s right, you can’t. I shot him.”
“So the governor general was in on your scheme?” Talyn asked.
“Hector? He always comes out on the winning side. If I seemed a likely champion, able to suppress the dastardly DSA after they murdered most of the Rim Sector’s most notable citizens, we wouldn’t be speaking right now. But thanks to you, Calvo back
ed down from resigning and asking Hector to dissolve parliament. Don’t bother trying to hang something on him. The Valerians didn’t rise to prominence by accident. Now was that all? A ship is waiting in orbit to take me — well, away from here.”
“A Howler ship?”
Magda gave Talyn a feral smile.
“How did you ever guess?”
“The Navy seized it a few hours ago. Its captain told us where we could find the shuttle he sent to pick you up. Apparently, he didn’t need much convincing. It’s sad. You simply can’t find loyal help these days, not even among the most ruthless of criminal gangs. Speaking of help, your DSA no longer exists except for a handful of scared hangers-on, and CimmerTek will need a serious recruiting drive to replenish the ranks. If it doesn’t simply fold now that Louis Sorne and your favorite godfather, Fast Tony Hakkam, are supping with Satan. But I hear the funeral director business is experiencing a mini-boom this week. We also recovered the rest of the MHX-19 thanks to the late Hadar Wilborg. He turned out to be a good conversationalist during his final hours before entering the big sleep.”
“And that only leaves you, honey,” Decker said with a cruel grin. “The last important loose end. At least where Naval Intelligence is concerned. The Cimmerian authorities will no doubt be able to take care of the remaining details.”
Annear’s smooth forehead creased with a frown.
“Naval Intelligence?”
“More specifically, the Special Operations Division. We terminate folks like you who think they’re entitled to change governments against the will of the people.”
An unattractive sneer twisted her face.
“The people? Those bovine, flatulent heaps of protoplasm? They wouldn’t know proper government if it bit them. Humanity hasn’t advanced an iota since we kicked the Shrehari back into their sphere because the people would rather wallow in their delusions of adequacy instead of imitating our ancestors and claiming new worlds. The Empire’s invasion unified us. Peace returned us to the atomized, weakened state we’ve suffered since the end of the Second Migration War. That is about to change despite the mindless herds.”