by Lauren Dane
Carina had wandered the compound, asking where YaYa had been. No one would meet her eyes. No one would tell her anything, and her father had yelled at her and made her leave the room when she’d asked him. Her mother had counseled her in very strong terms to stop asking, telling her YaYa had gone and wouldn’t be back and there was nothing Carina could do about it but stay alive.
That had been the year she realized there was no one to save her. No matter how much her mother loved her, it wasn’t in her mother’s power to save her, should her father decide Carina needed to disappear, too. Carina needed to remember that. Needed to remember no one was safe.
There was no way she could help anyone if she stayed. If she got this information out, there were those, men who used to be part of her father’s inner circle, who had a decent chance of winning in a bid to run the Imperium. It might end up saving her little brother’s life.
Scared or not, she had to act.
The passageway continued to slope downward until she finally reached the crawl space in the drying lofts in the stables. Being full dark, the area was deserted, so no one saw her enter and climb down to the floor below.
Her mother wasn’t in the tiny laundry room at the rear of the stables when she arrived, so Carina visited the animals, loving the quiet there, the soft sounds of a horse’s nicker, or the purr of a barn cat, the soft rumble of the targas after having worked all day plowing the fields or hauling goods from town to the compound.
In those moments she felt remarkably safe and even happy. She could be a person with potential she could define for herself. But it was a fantasy, a dream made of smoke, as it was for most citizens of the forty-seven Imperialist ’Verses. Freedom shouldn’t be a stolen few moments in private. It shouldn’t be a fantasy.
She thought then about what they’d started out as, and felt the loss keenly.
Caelinus was mainly agricultural. Generations ago, when they’d chosen it to be the Core of the Imperium, the first supreme leader had done so on purpose. Fruit of the earth was the heart of any civilization. Therefore, it would be made the centerpiece of their new world. There would be technology and slick cities, too, but Caelinus, with her harsh environment, was conquered by her people, tamed enough to feed and house them. They were no soft lot like their distant brethren in the Federation.
This notion still appealed to Carina. This was the heart of her people. Pity her father didn’t seem to remember that.
By the time her mother arrived, agitated and slightly out of breath, Carina felt far more resolved about leaving. They both drew into the shadows of an alcove at the rear of the stables.
“It’s done.” Retrieving a vial from her pocket, she screwed the lid off and shook out a small, silvery tab. The chip would be applied to her skin, the entry would take her blood into the chamber and lock the retrieval of the data to her key only. And she had to be alive for the chip to be retrieved.
“Here now. Let me get this in. You will have to leave with a moment’s notice, so be ready at all times. Pack a bag and leave it in the passageway.” A twinge of pain and the slither of the chip as it inserted itself into her skin and then deeper.
“This is the oddest thing I’ve ever felt,” she whispered to her mother.
“It’s safe. Your father’s men use this technology all the time.”
“You know a lot more than I ever thought you did. I’m sorry I underestimated your cunning.”
Her mother kissed her cheek with a sad laugh. “We wait now. I will try to hold this courtship off as long as I can. They need to arrive before the nuptials take place. I can’t help once Alem takes you to Fortuna. I’ve communicated to them that this is a matter of some extreme urgency. Nor have I revealed to them, or you, the full extent of the information. Enough to let them understand the gravity of the situation and keep you alive at all costs. The less you know, the better it’ll be for you.”
Carina took her mother’s hands. “Please come with me. He will be murderous when he finds out.”
“Let me do this. Please. Carina, I failed you so many times. I can’t help in any other way. I can’t save you from this disastrous marriage. You have no choice. If you do not leave, you will be with him, that monster, that cruel, evil man, and I will have to watch from afar as my status falls and you will be broken until you are either gone or a shadow. I can’t protect you in any other way. Let me do this.”
“I will leave, and I’ll let you help me. But you can come with me and do that, too. If this information is as important as you say, they’ll take us both, or they won’t get it. He’ll kill you!” She kept her voice down, but it was impossible to disguise her panic.
“This is my place, Carina. I am his wife. He’ll know I helped you if I go. I’ll stay and be shocked when you’re gone. I’ve lived a lie for my entire life, I can continue to do so. Once I know you’re safe . . . perhaps I can go later. But he watches me so carefully at times, other times he forgets I exist. I cannot know which he will do on which day. It’s too risky. I can keep him distracted when you go, keep his eye on me. It’s impossible any other way. Once he discovers you gone, he’ll send Skorpios to find you. You will have to run, darling. You will have to hide and flee for your life. I’m too old to do that. I can’t keep up. There is no other way, and I will not discuss it further. I’m expected in his chambers shortly, so I must go. Keep alert. You’ll know when it’s time. I love you with all my heart, Carina. You’re the best thing I’ve ever done. Be strong and make a difference; you have a destiny far beyond this place. Live and become the woman you’re born to be.”
Before Carina could argue further, her mother spun and hurried away, leaving Carina alone in the dark where no one could see her tears.
“A blade like this one”—Daniel moved his wrist just so, producing a razor-sharp blade he could kill with in seconds—“can be secreted easily, and the material is invisible to most scans.” Another movement of the wrist and the blade flew, buried to the hilt in the neck of the tactical model across the room. “Kill and be gone before anyone is aware there’s a problem. You need no ammunition, no time to charge or load the weapon. A blade can be your most effective tool as long as you keep it clean and sharp.”
The soldiers in the room, most of them younger than his nephews, watched. Some of them—those he took note of—moved their wrists experimentally, trying out what he’d done. Those were the ones he’d want on his team. He had no need of those men and women who waited to be taught. If they wanted to be Phantom, they had to do better than that.
Phantom Corps was small so it was rare to have any openings for new Operatives. But they often worked with the special teams, a good fit for both. So he knew what sort of soldier they looked for.
Wilhelm had insisted some years ago that Daniel teach knife work courses to all new military corps recruits. From that group, he passed on recommendations for those he thought would be good for the special teams. It was a wholly different kind of mental challenge, and he relished the new opportunities he’d been given over the last several standard years as he’d advanced.
He eyed a student standing a few arm’s lengths away, nodding his approval of her throwing technique.
“You know you have it right when you do it without thinking. You’ll have to get in closer to use a blade, which is a drawback. Still, stealth is an important weapon. Time is the enemy. Detection is the enemy. Get in. Remove target. Get out. There are no questions, there are no hesitations, there is only your mission. Hesitation will get you killed. If you’re dead, you’ve failed your mission.”
Some minutes later, as he’d been demonstrating some hand-to-hand knife work, a messenger came in with a summons. A summons he couldn’t refuse.
Daniel held still for the retinal scan at the doorway to Comandante Ellis’s offices. The panel beeped, and the door slid open, revealing two heavily armed men who nodded to him and stepped aside.
There were public receiving offices, but this was the heart of where Wilhelm Ellis really worked,
where he commanded all of the Federation Military Corps.
The assistant stepped out from behind the soldiers and handed each of them a hard copy file. “Operative Haws, Operative Solace, Comandante Ellis wishes for you to review this information while you wait for him.” Must have been important to put on paper; most of the time it was an electronic file. “Go on through. He’ll be with you shortly.” She indicated their path with a wave of her hand.
They settled in the comfortable (but not too) waiting area, opening the files to read the information. A silent but quite lovely woman brought out cool drinks and some light food before disappearing again. Sipping the fruit juice, Daniel sighed inwardly as he read, pretending to wait patiently. Patience was not one of his strongest traits, but he was trained well enough to fake it. Sitting beside him, his friend and fellow operative, Andrei, did have patience, though it wasn’t necessarily what others would perceive as a virtue. Andrei could wait, utterly still, for hours until an opportunity to take out a target presented itself. And he did it with clarity, calm and what at first glance might seem like little emotion. Some might think Andrei either liked killing or didn’t care that he killed.
Daniel knew better, of course. Andrei didn’t enjoy it, but he did it well and he did it for a cause he believed in. That seemed to be enough for him, and Daniel agreed.
There were those who did like it. Those who lost the ability to draw the lines they didn’t normally cross. Over the years he’d been with Phantom Corps, Daniel had known a few. Some had to be bounced out totally, while others had rotated out for some period of time and came back slowly.
Perspective was difficult to keep sometimes when one was confronted with something horrible. Each experience with it brought a man closer to the darkness lurking within everyone. Maybe it was because he was raised by a person he considered a failure at being a man, but Daniel was especially sensitive to trying to do the right thing, even when it was difficult. Especially when it was difficult.
It had been fascinating to end up as a mentor to these younger corpsmen and women. In all his life, he’d never felt as if he had any moral foundation, certainly not enough to pass on to others. He’d been good at tracking and killing, and he’d been satisfied with it. It wasn’t until he began to take on more responsibility that he’d begun to discover there was more to himself, more to the corps than what he’d thought.
It had surprised him to discover how good he was at connecting with his people, how proud he was that they sought him out when things began to get to them. To share their burdens and ask for advice.
He was glad of that especially now as he knew the political tensions between the Federated Universes and the Imperium continued to accelerate. Things had been precarious and on the verge of exploding for the last nearly two standard years. The treason trials of those who’d collaborated with the Imperialists to bomb Federation citizens in Federation territories as well as raising money and selling munitions to the enemy had made some things worse, even as the open nature of the process had put many at ease about Family Rule. The frequency with which Daniel found himself moving farther and farther out from the Core and closer and closer to Imperial territory alarmed him. But there was nothing to be done but continue to try to stem the rising tide of war, or at the very least, ensure victory for the Federation should war finally break out.
Until then and as always, he worked to deepen his connection with those he loved and to keep his roots deep in the world where one didn’t need to know the angle of a knife to the chest to kill instantly.
Just that morning he’d been laughing and eating breakfast with his mother and brother-in-law Marcus at his sister Nyna’s café. Abbie had been well, and they’d all stopped over so his mother could drop off some things for the baby. Things felt normal, calm. He carried that inside him, an anchor to keep himself grounded, a shield against the darkness he knew he carried within.
And now he sat in a room accessed only by a single, guarded entrance very few knew about. Most within the government and military thought they were special assistants to House Lyons and the Office of the Comandante. That ignorance kept them safe, kept their missions safe and made Daniel’s life a lot simpler when he interacted with his family and nonmilitary friends. To most he was a contractor, a consultant of sorts to the military.
Everyone had secrets. Daniel’s was just bigger than most. Those who suspected, like Abbie, and those who knew were a very small and, fortunately, very honorable group who all pretended to go about their business totally unaware Daniel was an assassin.
Business indeed! He preferred to get back to his classes. The last thing he needed was to have to wait around all day to deal with Ellis. Not that his wishes mattered. Ellis called, and they came because he asked it. Any of them would give their lives for the man who’d saved those same lives at some point when they’d all been younger and in a bind.
Phantom Corps belonged to Ellis. They were his creation and existed under his power. Very few people knew just exactly what they did, and Daniel liked it that way.
Each operator within Phantom Corps had his or her own story about how they’d come to know Wilhelm Ellis, their own complicated feelings about him as well as their feelings about Phantom Corps. Not that any of them spoke about it very often. Their pasts were their own to share or not as they chose. Most didn’t want to think about what landed them in that dingy little windowless room where they were all taken after they’d been remanded into the care of the military.
Daniel had been young and scared. His sister had been in the hospital, recovering from an assault that nearly took her life. She had faced reconstructive work, rehabilitation to be mobile again and years of assistance to get past the mental and emotional damage she’d suffered with the broken body.
He sat in lockup, charged with a host of crimes, all of them against Family members. No job, no one to count on and a dark future. But he’d done the right thing. He’d saved Abbie, and that was worth whatever he’d had to face.
Into that room walked a man so tall and imposing, Daniel had to fight the urge to stand and run. Instead, he’d listened as the man had outlined what he thought could be a second chance for Daniel. A chance to prove those who’d accused him wrong. A chance to rise and learn and be a leader and protector.
Daniel had listened, asked a few questions, weighed his scant options and had signed the papers. Ellis had become more than a mentor, and outside his immediate family, the first person to really believe in Daniel.
That had changed his life. Changed his trajectory, and he’d become someone better.
Phantom Corps was his family.
Enough of that. He made the choices that put him in that chair and in the end, he was satisfied with his life.
The information on the pages in his hands filled him with dread. A stillness washed through him as he began to extrapolate outward, applying the facts, adding them to what he already knew.
There was activity at the Edge. People disappearing. Mercenaries had become more rampant and in some cases, more violent. Information leaked through: something was up on the other side, and now, apparently, new information had come to light.
He’d fallen into the information so deeply, the planning and deciphering of many possible approaches, he didn’t hear the connecting door open until someone spoke. “Go in now, Mr. Haws, Mr. Solace.” Ellis’s assistant looked to be approximately three hundred standard years old, but Daniel had no doubt the man could kill with his bare hands.
Ellis waved them to sit as he ended a comm. The man behind the giant desk with the communications console at his back was one of the most important and influential in all the ’Verses. He dwarfed even the furniture he used, but Daniel knew from experience the man could break into a building, acquire information from a sealed, guarded comm room and escape without a single sound. He may have been at least six foot eight standard feet, but Wilhelm Ellis was stealthy and graceful in ways most people never expected, which only made him more formidable. D
aniel respected Wilhelm Ellis, looked up to him as he would a father. Gods knew his own father wasn’t worthy of admiration or respect. But he’d certainly never make the mistake of underestimating him.
“This is going to take a while. Hold all communications unless they come from Roman Lyons himself.” Comandante Wilhelm Ellis didn’t look up from his work as he gave the order. It wasn’t a lack of respect toward the assistant, but the opposite; Ellis just assumed it would happen and be done correctly. If he didn’t, the man wouldn’t have been in Ellis’s employ.
He typed out a quick note before turning back to Daniel and Andrei, giving them a smile that most would have found disquieting.
“Boys, and how are you?”
“Busy these days, sir. I trust you received our debrief of the last trip to Corazon?” Corazon was a ’Verse on the Edge, teetering dangerously toward Imperial influence. They’d dealt with some local militia, people who had a decent relationship with the mercenaries running the Edge. It would be a very good thing to have them on the side of the Federation. Mercenaries often had information long before anyone else; it was just a matter of getting them to share it.
Ellis indicated the screen to his left. “I received it. Well done as usual. I hear you debriefed Roman on this and your previous mission. He seems to be satisfied with you as a liaison.” From Ellis this was high praise. He motioned to the files with a tip of his chin. “Did you review those?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve evaluated it, and I’ve spoken to Roman.” Ellis nodded shortly at Daniel. “I need you to go to Caelinus and pick up a passenger.”
Daniel had a feeling it was moving in that direction. Hells, he hated these trips into Imperial territory. It was dangerous and tedious, and he had to risk exposing their people on the other side.