by Daniel Gibbs
Seconds ticked by as Petrov sat mute, his mind caught like a trapped animal trying to process a no-win situation.
“You have fifteen seconds to comply,” Feldt intoned. “Do not test me. You should know better.”
I can’t… I must… what have I done? Petrov’s life flashed by his eyes as he reached for a small button, protected by a cover. He inserted his key into the lock and lifted the cover, his hand shaking as he hesitated.
“Hey, boss, you ready to go? Those Terran Marines are almost here!” his second mate called through the ship’s intercom system.
“I’m sorry,” Petrov said quietly, his voice full of sadness. He pressed the button with a second to spare of Feldt’s deadline. The roar of an explosion filled his ears, and flames shot through the enclosed space. There were a few seconds of pain so horrific, he almost went mad, before it all faded away. As his consciousness faded away, he pondered if he’d spend the rest of eternity in flames for what he’d done throughout his life.
“Conn, TAO! Master One destroyed, sir!”
Hanson glanced down from the tactical display where he’d been watching the VBSS team’s progress toward the freighter. “By what?”
“Internal explosion, sir,” Ruth replied as she peered at her screens. “It appears they executed an intentional self-destruct, sir.”
“Communications, get the Marines headed back to the Lion. Get SAR in space, check for survivors,” Hanson said.
“Highly unlikely anyone survived that, sir,” Ruth said as she glanced back toward him.
“We have a duty to try, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hanson sat back in the CO’s chair, staring forward. What kind of criminal blows themselves up to avoid capture, rather than try and escape? Even if they were scum, that’s a horrible way to go. He felt a few seconds of pity before focusing on what was next for the mission. Nothing more for us to do but wait. He returned to his previous boredom—standing watch for the next four hours.
13
A few hours later, David found himself in a conference room within the Terran Coalition embassy on Gilead, listening to a loud debate between Eldred, Nelson, and General Wright. Qadir sat to his right, a scowl on her face. I know how she feels. We’re being fed bullcrap and everyone at this table knows it.
“The government of Gilead must register extreme displeasure with the destruction of a ship in orbit of our planet, Colonel,” Nelson said, his face red.
My, he plays the part well. “We didn’t blow it up.”
“You fired on it!”
“We had information the freighter was a front for drug traffickers. When our Marines attempted to board the vessel, it self-destructed.”
“Just how did you happen to get this information, Colonel?” General Wright asked.
“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Eldred interjected before anyone else could speak. “The Terran Coalition doesn’t discuss sources and methods with any non-Canaan-Alliance signatory state.”
“We only extended limited authorization for the CDF to operate in our territory, Colonel,” Nelson said.
David sat back in the chair. I can’t tell them the truth “The truth is, we intercepted a communication that led us to target the freighter.” He smiled thinly at the room. “Everyone knows CIS has outstanding technical surveillance abilities.”
An aide slipped into the conference room and handed a folder to Nelson, whispering in his ear.
The suit-clad bureaucrat nodded and pored through the document. As he did, his eyes popped wide open. “Well, Colonel, looks like you guys had your intel right for once.”
Wright glanced at Nelson. “The freighter was carrying Orbita?”
“It had a load of Orbita large enough to kill a hundred million people. And Edward Feldt was on board, according to our DNA scans.”
“What?” Eldred thundered.
Nelson looked between her and David. “Yes. You’ve been trying to get him for some time, haven’t you, agent?”
“If you think I’m going to believe that Feldt would put himself on a freighter carrying product, you’re nuts. It’s obviously a plant, a fake. Something. No way. He’s too smart.”
“DNA tests don’t lie,” Nelson replied, his arms crossed in front of him.
“We’d like to review the data and rerun the tests,” David interjected. “While I trust your people and processes, we’ll need to verify it. This doesn’t change anything. There’s an organization out there to shut down.”
Wright snorted. “You’re not up on Edward Feldt, are you, Colonel? He is the organization, as you put it. Without him, they fold in a month.”
“I find it difficult to believe.”
“Believe it.”
Qadir, who had been atypically silent, picked this moment to make her presence known. “I agree with the assessments of my colleagues. CBI will not be satisfied without independent corroboration.”
“No harm in sharing our findings and the DNA samples, Nelson,” Wright said. “If you happen to obtain any further signals intercepts, I’d appreciate a heads up. We’ve been trying to crack Feldt’s organization for years.”
Nelson raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips together. “The general is right,” he finally ground out. “We’re happy for any help you can offer.”
“Good,” David said. “I think we’re done here for now, then.”
It didn’t take much encouragement for the Gileadean delegation to spring out of their seats. “Thank you, Colonel. We’ll be in touch,” Nelson said as a goodbye, hurrying out the door without further small talk. The rest followed him in short order, leaving David, Qadir, and Eldred alone.
Eldred stood and shut the door before securing the lock and pulling a small device out of her pants pocket and activating it. “White noise generator,” she explained, dropping it on the table. “Thoughts?”
“They’re lying.”
David glanced at Qadir. “I’m not prepared to go that far, but if this Feldt guy is half as smart as he appears… yeah, no way he was on the freighter. It’s clear to me, though, he has complete control of his followers. That’s scary, and frankly, cult-like. Not even the Leaguers are quite as committed. When they’re beaten, most of the time, they give up.”
“I need both of you to help me,” Eldred said without further preamble as she glanced between David and Qadir. “Come with me into the no-go zone outside of the city first thing in the morning.
“CIS asking CBI for help? Oh, this must be desperation speaking.”
David couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m with Director Qadir on this one. CIS has a small legion of spooks here. Why us?”
“Because I can’t trust anyone. Good move, by the way, telling them it was signals intercepts. You also have to realize it won’t hold up. We need to make contact with ‘Z’ and get her out of there, along with whatever information she’s got on Feldt and his band of butchers.”
“Where exactly do you want us to go?” Qadir asked.
“The desert outside of the capital. It goes on for hundreds of kilometers in every direction. Some sections are inhabited, and they’re no-go zones for the government. It’s where Feldt thrives. He’s built entire towns out there, supplies water and food. In return, he forces the people to toil in his factories, producing drugs and other contraband.”
Qadir twisted her head and made a face. “This man disgusts me. May Allah strike him down.”
“We’re Allah’s instrument for striking said man down,” David said quietly. “I’d feel more comfortable bringing in a team of tier-one operators with us.”
Eldred shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not, Colonel. One beat-up aircar with a man and two women inside? That’ll pass just long enough for us to get in. Two or three helicars filled with military-age men and we’d have an all-out war on our hands. This mission calls for stealth.”
“At an absolute minimum, I want full kits and a special ops team on standby as QRF.”
“QRF?”
Qadir asked.
“Quick reaction force. They save our hides if this goes south.”
“You’ve got a deal, Colonel,” Eldred said as she smiled from ear to ear. “I knew CIS could count on its CDF brethren.”
Yeah, here goes nothing. David let out a belly laugh. “Don’t go getting too cocky, agent. This still has a lot of ways it can go sideways.”
“Probably will.”
“Agreed,” Qadir interjected. “It is almost time for mid-day prayers. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning, first light. It’s too dangerous to go now. We wouldn’t get to his compound until after dark and traveling out there in the dark is a death sentence from all the roving gangs.”
“Great. You’d think they could put this on the tourist advertisements?” David said, his voice full of mirth.
Qadir chuckled politely. “Should we go back to the Lion of Judah?”
“No need,” Eldred quickly interjected. “I’ve arranged for guest spaces for both of you here.”
David stood up. “Good. I’ve got plenty of paperwork to get done. The bane of my existence.”
To muted laughs from the two women, he walked out of the conference room.
For the second time in an hour, Edward Feldt hurled a glass across the room while simultaneously letting out a guttural roar. Made of an unbreakable polymer designed for space flight, it didn’t shatter, but it did make a loud noise as it clattered to the floor. He fell back into his plush office chair and stared at his computerized command center.
“Boss, you okay?” the voice of one of his most trusted lieutenants, Benoit, called from just outside.
“I’m fine,” he ground out. “Come in.”
The door swung open, and in Benoit strode. “Boss, it’s just one ship.”
“Just one ship?” Feldt asked. “I have a traitor in my midst!” The second sentence was delivered at a high, loud pitch. “To hell with the ship! I want the traitor found and tortured until I know exactly what they’ve done.”
“I’ve questioned my people, boss. Nothing.”
Feldt glanced up, rage coursing through him like a raging river. If anyone but Benoit had said that to me, I’d kill them. “What about the security scanners and cameras in the bay?”
“Been over them twenty times, boss. We didn’t see anything on the ship or attached to its hull while it was in the hangar. It’s possible Gilead authorities have been watching us.”
“We’d know,” Feldt replied smugly. “My payoffs ensure that. When you have half the government on your payroll, things leak out. Like the Lion of Judah being here. So no one seems to know anything?”
“No, boss.”
Time for harsh measures. “Inform everyone in the organization they have twenty-four hours to come forward. If I don’t know the identity of the rat by then, I’ll kill one member of their families.”
Benoit’s face blanched. “All of us, sir?”
Feldt met his ashen expression with harsh indifference. “Everyone. Let it be motivation.”
“Got it, boss.”
They’re all so whipped. “Good. Now get out of here and spread the word.”
“Yes, boss,” Benoit replied before he turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Alone, Feldt began to process his thoughts. While the leak in his organization was terrible enough, the Terran Coalition being present and apparently being approved to engage military action in Gileadean space was a disturbing new development. Perhaps I need some external assistance. He let out a giggle at the bad pun before punching up an encrypted vidlink to a League of Sol External Security drop account.
It took nearly thirty minutes for a picture laced with static to appear. “Authorize,” a disembodied voice said, the sound coming out of the speaker on his tablet.
“Feldt. Alpha, kilo, tango, six, eight, one. My voice is my authentication.”
“What do you want?”
“The Terran Coalition has arrived. They’re hunting for my organization. Because I’m moving your product.”
“Are you no longer capable of distributing our product?”
“I require… assistance.”
“No one requires something from the League. The League decides what it will do on behalf of humanity, Mr. Feldt.”
Feldt leaned back in his chair and laughed. “You’re using me to push a recreational drug that kills its users. Don’t lecture me on what you’re doing for humanity. I don’t care. I want my money and the Lion of Judah off my planet. Send help, or I’ll cut a deal with them.”
“No one threatens the League of Sol.”
Feldt’s eyes focused on the camera built into his tablet, projecting complete confidence and cold resolve. “I don’t make threats. Only promises. Do something, or else.”
“We’ll be in touch,” the voice replied, and the connection cut.
The thin veneer of self-control almost cracked again as he picked up the tablet, and his hand went to hurl it. Stopping at the last moment, he set the device down and focused his breathing. This is no good. I must remain calm. Calm and collected at all times. Feldt’s mouth curled up into a menacing grin. “The League will do what I demand because I’ve got them over a barrel. When I’m done, I’ll do what no one else could. Defeat the Terran Coalition do-gooders and the Lion of Judah.” He leaned back in the chair and laughed. Then I’ll control Gilead for good.
Ruth strode through a passageway, nearly running into another crewman, she was so lost in her thoughts. She walked quickly, not wanting to test Hanson’s order that she only got thirty minutes with Taylor. After she rounded a corner, the medical bay was directly ahead. Pausing outside of it, she pulled her uniform shirt down and closed her eyes. I wish I had been there for him, rather than getting myself into a fight.
Pushing through the hatch, Ruth found herself in the middle of the busy medical bay as nurses and doctors tended to patients. She walked over to a blue smocked nurse. “Excuse me, but where is Lieutenant Taylor?”
“Bed sixteen,” she replied, pointing down toward a private room.
“Thanks.”
Ruth made her way down the rows of beds, pausing outside the room whose door was open. A voice behind her caused an involuntary jump.
“Lieutenant Goldberg?” Tural asked.
Ruth whirled around. “Uh, yes, Doctor,” she stammered.
“How’s he doing?”
“Lieutenant Taylor? He’s in a coma.”
Ruth’s jaw dropped open in shock. “I thought it was… I thought he was okay,” she said, fighting to keep her emotions in check and portray the stoic military professional.
Tural reached up and put his hand on her shoulder. “By Allah, he had enough of that infernal drug he should’ve died. Taylor is a strong warrior. He’s resting, and I have every confidence he will recover fully.”
“Then why is he in a coma?”
“Because the drug shut down half of his central nervous system. To put it in layman’s terms, his body is restarting itself.”
“Can he understand us? Hear us?”
Tural shook his head. “Most coma patients hear and see everything around them. I would act as if he could, Lieutenant. I’m sure he’d welcome the company.”
“Thank you, Doctor. May I sit with him for thirty minutes?”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate it, but why that specific period?”
Ruth blushed. “I, uh, got into a bar fight. I’ve been restricted to quarters by Major Hanson.”
“In that case, you’d better get to it, but I won’t tell on you if you’re just a few minutes over,” Tural replied with a wink.
Flashing a smile in return, Ruth walked into the room and sat down next to the bed. She took his hand in hers, and after a glance back to ensure they were alone, she squeezed it. “Robert, if you can hear me, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Hang in there and keep fighting.”
Tears streamed down her face as she stared at Taylor’s nearly lifeless body. A medical scanning band a
ttached to his wrist and connected wirelessly to a monitor for his vitals. Strong and steady, they showed he was stable. A multitude of thoughts ran through her head. Things she hadn’t said now seemed out of reach and regret surged to the surface. All the times I wanted to let him in, but I didn’t. She sat quietly, holding his hand until the timer she’d set on her commlink went off. Time to head back to my quarters. No, not yet.
Ruth stood and bowed her head. “Heal us, Adonai, and we shall be healed. Save us, and we shall be saved. For You are our glory. Send complete healing of every illness to Robert. For You, O God, are the faithful, merciful Physician. Praised are You, Adonai, who heals the sick of Your people, Israel.” After finishing the traditional Jewish prayer, she knelt at the bed and again took Taylor’s hand in hers. “God, I’m still struggling with this idea of a conversation with You… but here goes. Please help this man. He is decent and honorable, one of Your servants. Save him from the effects of this drug and allow him to wake up whole. In the name of Your Son, I pray, amen.”
14
Robert Taylor opened his eyes to find himself in the middle of blinding white light. As far as he could see, there was nothing but pure light. Where am I? His last memory was pitching forward into the conference table on Gilead. I don’t think I’m on Gilead anymore.
“Robert?” a voice called out.
Taylor whirled around, searching for its source. The musical lilt to the voice was so familiar, yet so distant. A hand touched his arm. His eyes moved to track the source of the touch, and he froze at the sight of a tall, thin woman in peak physical shape, with blonde hair and piercing green eyes.
“Rachel.”
“Good to see you remember what I look like.”
It was hard to fully make her out in the whiteness of the void, but the distinct facial features, hair, and bright smile of his dead wife were there. I’m losing it. He closed his eyes and reopened them. She was still there. “Rachel?”