He shrugged out of Yang’s grip and took a step away, clenching his fists over the tight urge to smash Stanton square in the face. “You disrespect the commander like that again, and next time you’ll be eating my gun.”
“Sure I will.” Stanton shot him a smile, as though the threat genuinely amused him. “No one else is to see the prisoner. A specialized CI shuttle will be here to take her for further questions in an hour.”
“Take her where?” Yang demanded.
Stanton’s grin widened. “That information is classified.”
Yang’s shoulders tightened, as if maybe he was thinking about laying the agent out himself. “We need to know if there are any other CSS on board this ship.”
Stanton examined his hand, and Leigh caught sight of some blood spatter on the man’s otherwise pristine sleeve. “Oh, you need to know, yet you disapprove of my methods.”
He clenched his jaw over calling the agent about a dozen different names, all beginning or ending with the word ass. “Just tell us, does she know who the mole in the FP squadron is?”
Stanton stared at them for a long moment, an inscrutable expression on his face.
“No,” he said at last. “She doesn’t know if there is a CS Soldier in your squadron. In fact, she doesn’t know a single other CSS mole. It seems they’ve been smart in the way they go about their infiltration, keeping all the traitors isolated and ignorant of one another. That way, if they get caught like Hershel has been, they’ve got nothing to tell.”
Leigh cursed, rubbing the tight muscles in the back of his neck. “Then we’re no closer to finding out the identity of the mole in the squadron, or the person who attacked Recruit Wolfe.”
Stanton looked past them, toward the interview room, expression smacking of anticipation. “We have ways of getting certain details out of people, things they don’t even know they’re telling us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The agent’s expression gave him the creeps.
Yang shook his head. “I don’t think we want to know.”
Stanton returned his gaze to Yang. “You’re right. You probably don’t want to know. How about you take care of your issues, and I’ll take care of mine?”
“That’s all well and good, but it’s when those issue run together we’ve got a problem.” Yang backed up a step and turned away from Stanton. “Come on, Alpha, we’re not going to get any more information here.”
He shot the CI one last glare before catching up with Yang. “Sir, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but—”
“I know.” Yang strode stiffly along the passageway, his expression furious. “But he’s right. I’ve got no power over what Stanton or CI do, even on board this ship. The best I can do is go up to my wardroom and make some calls. Even then, I’m not likely to get any answers before the CI shuttle arrives.”
“This is turning into a damn mess,” he muttered. If Leigh didn’t find the squadron mole, and soon, there was no telling what else Stanton might do. The way things were going, people would start turning on each other, and rampant suspicion would blow the ship apart.
Chapter Ten
Mia tapped her fingers against the edge of the datapad while she waited for the routed connection to go through, which would give her access to the Knox’s main systems.
Most people would have said accessing the primary systems from a datapad would have been impossible. But most people didn’t want to be an aeronautical engineer. Most people wouldn’t have studied the specs of the UEF fleet’s battleships like she had. Of course, battleship specs weren’t available to just anyone, and when she’d been studying for an assignment and accidentally come across a pirated version online and downloaded it, she hadn’t exactly been on the right side of the law. And she may have taken her extra-credit classes on cybersecurity a little farther than was technically legal, because the challenge of getting in and out places had been the kind of thrill she couldn’t resist.
And she definitely wasn’t on the right side of the law right now. But she’d woken up in the small hours of the morning, and after replaying the attack in her mind, plus the conversation with Leigh, she needed to find out why the shooter had seemingly disappeared, maybe find some way to track him herself.
Because the idea that the person who’d tried to kill her was walking around the ship had settled like a low hum of noise in the background, keeping a constant shadow of apprehension lurking in the corners of her mind.
So she’d gone out into the hallway and lurked by the nurse’s station until she could snag a datapad. She felt a little sorry for whoever the device belonged to, because although she planned to wipe the evidence of her activities once she was done, she wasn’t an expert hacker and might leave a traceable footprint if someone went looking hard enough.
The datapad gave a low chime, indicating the connection had gone through. It’d been a while since she’d studied the specs for this class of battleship, so it took her a little longer than necessary to access the security logs for the surveillance on squad level. She watched the recording of the shooter running down the passageway, followed by Leigh a moment later. Her breath caught as Leigh narrowly avoided getting shot. She accessed the shooter’s transit route, then brought up the camera feed for the passageway where the assailant supposedly got out.
However, when the doors opened on the level below, the carriage was empty.
Frowning, she switched to the in-transit surveillance feed. It showed the shooter firing at Leigh before the doors slid closed. After that, the man kept his head angled down as he concealed the gun beneath his clothes. The pictured flickered and the man disappeared. Gone.
In one screen shot and then not in the next after the slight interference.
Since she didn’t believe in magic, the only explanation would be that someone had tampered with the footage. Leaning forward, she accessed all the transit-porter logs. The shooter’s transit hadn’t stopped and it was impossible to get off midtrip.
The challenge of solving this mystery had energized her, chasing the last of the aching fog from her mind. She cross-checked other things, like maintenance logs, and had been at it for about an hour when she found a clue. Someone had messed with the transit ID numbers. Halfway through the trip, someone had reset the system and the security feed had then tracked a different car.
All she had to do was work out what ID the shooter’s transit had changed to, and she’d find his actual destination.
With a low thrum of excitement buzzing through her, she set to work tracing IDs until she found the feed she needed. She watched footage of an empty transit, where the picture flickered and the shooter appeared, as if from thin air.
“Got you,” she muttered, leaning closer to the screen and willing the bastard to look up. Unfortunately, he kept his head down until the doors opened on one of the ship’s lowest utility levels. Once she’d watched the shooter disembark, she switched the feed to outside, in the passageway he would have stepped into, but all she found was static. Someone had killed the cameras.
“Damn it.” She slapped the edge of the table the datapad was on and then slouched back against the pillows. Just when she’d thought she was going to discover the shooter’s identity, or where he’d gone, she’d hit a wall. But at least she’d worked out how he’d eluded the MPs. Of course, this meant he’d had outside help, and whatever his reason for being in the ready room, there was obviously something much larger going on here.
Her mind dredged up rumors she’d heard before arriving on the Valiant Knox, rumors that the explosion on the Ilari base had been an inside job, that the CSS had infiltrated UEF ranks. She’d dismissed the chatter as exaggerated, or simple speculation, because the idea that the CSS could have so successfully gained access to the UEF was as ridiculous as it was terrifying. But what if the rumors hadn’t been simple gossip? What if there’d been some truth to it? What if something similar was happening on board the Knox?
No. Surely people would know if that was
happening. She was letting her imagination run away with her. Getting a position on the Knox was hard enough even as a recruit or enlisted personnel of the UEF, let alone for someone with intentions of sabotage or betrayal. There were processes in place to make sure such a thing didn’t happen.
“Did someone else already bring you a new datapad?”
She glanced up at the familiar voice in the doorway, so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Leigh walk into the room. “According to personnel records, a new one hadn’t been assigned to you yet.”
He walked over, another datapad in hand, probably the one that had been assigned for her use. She started to slide hers, with all its incriminating information displayed on it, toward herself, but Leigh got to her and closed a hand around it before she could shut the program.
“Where did you—” He tugged the datapad out of her hands, expression hardening as he looked at the screen. “What the hell is this?”
“I can explain.” She reached out for the device but he kept it out of her range.
“I don’t think there’s any possible sane reason you could give for accessing the ship’s main systems. Or why you even know how to do that.”
Her heart thrummed against the inside of her chest. “Please, before you do anything, just listen. I know how to do it because I wanted to be an aeronautical engineer and studying ship specs was kind of a hobby. And as for the reason I did it, I was trying to find the shooter. I was accessing security footage and the transit-porter logs to see if I could track him.”
His tense expression hadn’t shifted, his impassive CAFF mask firmly in place as he stared at her. For the first time since she’d met him, she suddenly understood the reputation that preceded him.
“You were trying to find the shooter,” he repeated, sounding far from convinced. “A job you should be leaving up to the MPs.”
She lowered her gaze, the exact amount of trouble she was now in pressing down on her. “I know. I’m sorry. It was impulsive and stupid, but I thought I could get in and check without anyone ever knowing. I needed to know who he was.”
“Well I hope that reasoning is enough after you’ve left the Knox and the UEF, because there’s no way in hell you’ll ever serve again. You’ll be lucky if you don’t end up in a military prison.”
He started to turn away and desperation clawed into her chest. “But I found him.”
Her words made him freeze, his gaze coming back around to clash with hers.
“You mean you can identify him?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. I worked out that the transit ID system had been scrambled and he actually went down to one of the lower utility levels. He had to have outside help to trick the system so flawlessly that no one would notice. I almost missed it myself.”
“How could you— Never mind.” He sighed, glancing down at the datapad before looking back up at her. “Show me everything.”
He walked over and handed the datapad back to her and sat on the edge of the mattress, his shoulder and hip brushing hers, since the gurney wasn’t exactly wide.
Her anxiety wound down a notch now that he didn’t seem ready to run off and report her to Command Yang right this second. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t, but maybe she could convince him not to reveal her security breach, and in return she would offer to quickly and quietly leave the Knox. The thought made her chest tighten, so she pushed it away and concentrated on the datapad, showing him how she’d found the transit IDs had been scrambled, confusing the security feed, and then playing the footage of the shooter leaving the transit on the utility level.
“And what about this footage?” Leigh asked as she showed him the static when she tried to access the images on that level. “Can you fix it or find some other camera?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. This is where I got up to when you came in.”
“Okay.” He crossed one arm over his middle and dragged the other hand over his jaw, expression tense with contemplation. “What else can you do with this thing?”
She cut him a wary sideways glance, not sure how far she should be implicating herself. But she’d already been caught; it probably couldn’t get any worse from here no matter what she admitted.
“Pretty much anything. Once you’re into the main systems, everything becomes available, from personnel rosters to the ship’s navigation controls.”
He shifted, spearing her with an intense look. This close, she could see the slightly darker rim around his gray-blue eyes. “That’s dangerous power to have. And anyone can do this from any datapad?”
“No, not just anyone.” She shook her head. “They’d have to either be a consummate hacker, or know the specs of the Knox down to the last detail.”
He tucked his other arm over his chest so both were crossed. “And which of these options best describes you?”
“I told you. I wanted to be an aeronautical engineer. I studied ship specs. Not just the Knox, but others, too.”
His brow lowered. “I can’t decide if I’m worried that your illegal activities started well before you arrived on the Knox, or impressed about how thorough you’ve been.”
“Consider yourself impressed, because I’m assuming from your reaction that no one else managed to work out how the shooter escaped.”
He didn’t reply. Instead he sent her a look that was almost exasperated. “Close the program and hand over the datapad.”
She gave a tight nod, anxiety wrenching through her once more. Her thoughts spun, trying to come up with a way to convince him not to report this major infraction, but knowing there was nothing she could say to save herself. He didn’t owe her anything and if he failed to report her activities and it was discovered later, he could also face losing his posting.
Once she’d exited the main systems and then wiped the evidence as best she could, she handed it over to him, shifting to the side a little so she could face him.
“I got it from the nurse’s station.”
One of his brows arched upward. “Are you kidding? I’m not putting this back. If anyone works out what you did and traces it back to this datapad, you’ll get some poor doctor or nurse in trouble, and they’ll probably still find you anyway.”
A small spark of hope flamed to life in her chest. “So you’re not going to report me?”
He set the new datapad on the table and then stood. “Right now? No. Tomorrow? I don’t know. This is serious, Mia. I need to decide how to handle it.”
“I could quit the FP program and leave, if it would make things easier. I’m injured anyway. I might as well call it. That way, it wouldn’t be your problem. You can pretend like you never knew about it.”
His jaw tightened. “I can’t do that, and you know it. And you are not leaving this ship, not with potentially dangerous knowledge of how to access the Knox’s main systems. If the enemy got their hands on you— Well, that’s a scenario I don’t even want to imagine.”
His words sent a mild shock jolting through her. He was right. If she got captured by the enemy and they worked out what she knew, it was the kind of information that could bring down the ship. A few years younger and a lot more naive, she hadn’t ever considered the larger implications of learning those ship specs; she’d just been feeding her thirst for knowledge and told herself she’d have an edge if she ever got the opportunity to apply for some kind of aeronautical engineering position.
“Okay, I won’t go anywhere.” Her voice came out a little uneven, and she swallowed down the tightness in her throat.
Leigh’s gaze softened just a touch as he stared at her. “I’m not trying to scare you, Mia, I was just stating a fact. And nothing has been decided about your position in the FP program. I haven’t talked to Bren or Seb yet. So there are several conversations that you and I need to have, but right now, I need to get to class.”
She nodded and then winced when the sudden movement caused her headache to return.
Leigh reached out and touched gentle fingers to th
e side of her face, making her freeze and her lungs stall. His gaze roamed over her as he traced what she assumed was the outer edge of the bruise. She hadn’t seen it herself, but the nurse who’d come to check on her earlier had said it was spectacular.
“You look like hell. Whoever that guy was, he sure did a number on you. Are you feeling any better?”
“Just a headache,” she managed to force out through the tightness in her chest, almost sounding like herself. If the words were a bit strangled, hopefully he’d assume it was her sore head.
“And your shoulder?” His hand dropped to the edge of her gown. “Do you mind?”
She shook her head, pulse picking up as he pushed the material to the side, revealing the pink scar from where the micro-laser had repaired the internal damage, as well as the layers of muscle and skin.
“It looks good, but you’ll want to be careful for a few weeks. When it happened to me, I would think it was fine and then something would make it pull and it’d ache for a day or two after.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Yeah, her voice definitely wasn’t sounding all that composed anymore.
His fingers lightly skimmed along her collarbone as he returned the gown to rights, and she tensed against a shiver she could feel creeping up on her. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment before he stepped back again.
“I saw Dr. Dalton on my way in here. She’s going to discharge you just before the end of forenoon watch. After that, I want you to head up to your dorm. Get some rest and don’t go finding any more trouble.”
“Okay,” she muttered, only just managing to resist rolling her eyes.
“What was that, Recruit?” Though the words were formal, there was a definite light glint to his gaze. Was he actually teasing her?
“Sir, yes, sir.” The reply came out sounding more like a question.
He gave a single nod, one side of his lips lifting in a small smile that made him look nothing short of adorable. Her stomach flipped over, and if she had been alone, she would have definitely slapped herself. Had she really just thought that the legendary, hard-assed Captain Alphin was adorable? That concussion must have really scrambled her brain.
Damage Control (Valiant Knox) Page 11