by Terry Mixon
Before the noncom could say anything, Brad rapped his knuckles on the table. “Focus, people. We have a new job.”
That got their attention.
“We’re escorting a science ship out to Io.”
“That doesn’t sound very exciting,” Marshal murmured.
“Neither did escorting a liner,” Jason said with a smirk. “Wait for the other shoe to drop.”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’s another shoe waiting in the wings?”
“If it was something that straightforward, you wouldn’t be having a meeting like this. We’d just pull out of MOSO and get on about our business. You hate meetings.”
“Now I’m going to have to start having random meetings to keep you guessing,” he told the tactical officer.
Shelly elbowed her boyfriend. “Thanks, genius.”
That got laughs from around the table.
“As it turns out, you’re right,” he told Jason. “The escort job is a cover. Fleet needs us to play siren.”
The tactical officer frowned. “Like an ambulance?”
Saburo shook his head with a sad look at the confused man. “You really should read books with more words and fewer pictures. A siren was a mythical being that lured sailors to their deaths on the rocks with only their sweet voices.”
“That doesn’t make any more sense than running around going ‘woooo-ooooo.’ What does that even mean?”
“It means we’re bait,” Randall said in an irritated tone. “Fleet expects someone to come looking for us.”
“Essentially true,” Brad said. “It turns out the slavers are kind of miffed at us. They put out a bounty of a million credits on Heart.”
That produced the expected silence around the table as they all digested the news.
“That seems a little extreme,” Shelly said. “I don’t recall ever hearing about pirates or slavers putting any prices on other ships. They take their risks and move on.”
“Something about Heart worries them,” he said. “The price is for the verified destruction of this ship. Not her capture.”
Marshal frowned. “First they steal the computer, and then they want the ship taken out. Yeah, that does sound suspicious.”
“Wait,” Jason said. “Someone stole the computer? This is the first I’ve heard about this. I used the damned thing an hour ago.”
Mike gave him a pitying look. “Before the refit, genius. Right after Brad captured the ship. Someone broke in, trashed the helm console, and stole the computer core. They wrecked all the peripheral equipment, too.”
The engineer turned his gaze to Brad. “They missed something.”
“Sounds like,” he agreed. “Or at least they’re worried they did. The commanding officer on Eternal thinks this ship is more heavily connected to the slavers than we thought. Two of the dead bodies from the raid where I captured this ship are connected to the upper echelons of the slaver organization.
“I can’t go into the details, but she suspects they have Fleet penetrated. She wants to send us out to lure in a few more slavers to see if we can shake some information loose.”
“Sounds risky,” Shelly said slowly. “There’s no guarantee that we’ll get anything other than hired guns. Or that we’ll survive the attack if they come in force. Maybe we should sit this out and tear Heart apart until we figure out what makes her so important to them.”
“We’re going to do that, too,” he assured them, “but we’re not going to sit on the sidelines. We’ll take the fight to the slavers. And, through them, the Cadre.”
The thought made him grin savagely, evoking a similar expression on Saburo.
“Finally, I and my people get to kick some ass,” the mercenary noncom said.
“I sure hope so. You’ll need to make sure you have everything you need to board an enemy ship. We want live prisoners.”
“I’m already set,” the noncom said nonchalantly. “Mike might need to get some gear for us to board wrecks after the fighting, though.”
“Don’t try to teach your grandmother how to suck eggs,” the engineer sneered. “We’re already set for that.”
Now it was Saburo’s turn to look confused. “Why would anyone want to suck eggs? Just scramble them and be done.”
“Anyway,” Brad said over Mike as he tried to respond. “Everyone needs to get ready to depart within the next twenty hours. The science ship is real and has a schedule. The part the slavers and pirates don’t know about is that we’ll have a silent escort of our own this time. A trio of Fleet’s light corvettes are going to shadow us like we did Louisiana Rain.
“When the bad guys come calling, they’ll wait until the enemy is committed and then strike. The hope is they can chase the other ships down and force them to surrender. Apparently, they’re rigged with more engine than they need and will be able to generate more thrust than just about anyone. Us included.”
Once he was sure they’d all caught the gist of what he was saying, he looked at Randall. “Mike, I want you to lead the effort scanning the ship for anything missed during the investigation and refit. If the slavers want the ship dead, then we need to know what they think we have.”
He looked a doubtful. “We pretty much tore Heart apart during the refit. I’m not sure how we could’ve missed anything significant.”
“Consider this a professional challenge, then. Get help from anyone with spare time, including Jim. Now that I think about it, you’ll just have to wait to serve out your sentence. Life is too short to wait on this.”
The engineer nodded. “I’ll start compiling a list of places. I think we need to start with your cabin. If there’s a hidden compartment with secrets powerful enough to generate this kind of reaction, it’s probably in there. Somewhere.”
“If they found some slaver muckety-mucks, then it has to lead back to a slaver base or someone’s identity,” Marshal said. “The fact they wrecked the helm console leads me to think it’s the first one.”
“We’ll only know for sure if we find it or capture someone on this mission,” Brad said. “Someone we can convince to talk.”
Saburo smiled coldly. “I can make them talk.”
Brad was willing to bet he could.
The intercom came to life. “Captain, you’re needed at the airlock.” It was another one of the mercenaries.
“It sounds like we’re done here,” Brad said. “Our lives depend on getting everything ready. This time, we know they’re coming for us. Either this trip, the next one, or one after that. Let’s use that to our advantage.”
He rose to his feet and headed for the airlock while they talked among themselves. Once again, he had a visitor. Two this time, with one he recognized.
Brad opened the airlock and smiled at the two women standing outside. “Lieutenant Greer. You’re about the last person I expected to see on MOSO. Didn’t I leave you at Io? And who is your friend?”
The Fleet investigator returned his smile. “I get around. May we come in? I’d rather not discuss business in a public area.”
“That sounds suitably mysterious. Come right in.”
Once he had them inside the ship, he led the pair to his office and once more closed the hatch for privacy. This time, he chose to pull out a spare seat and join them in front of the desk.
After they were all seated, he gave them his full attention. “What’s going on?”
“I’m actually here to make an introduction,” Greer said. “My associate needs to make sure you believe what she has to say, and I was the most convenient way to make sure that happened.”
She turned to the tall woman sitting beside her. “This is Kate Falcone. She’s an agent of the Commonwealth Investigative Agency.” The last bit was said in a low voice.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a spy?”
The woman smiled, an expression that accentuated her hawk-like features. “When I need to be. I’m more of a troubleshooter, though. I find fires and put them out.
“If you
need a suitably spy-ish name, though, you can call me Agent Falcon. If you’ll allow it, I need to ride with you on this mission. I’m hoping to meet a few old friends.”
Brad considered the woman for a long moment. “Why?”
“Because, like you, I don’t trust that Fleet can do what needs doing.”
He slid a sidelong glance at the Fleet investigator. She didn’t seem all that perturbed at the statement.
“She’s right,” Greer said. “The Cadre and slavers have connections inside Fleet that give them word of any operation against them. Their success in evading major raids makes that a certainty.
“Worse, I think the rot goes higher. I’m sure the Commonwealth government itself is riddled with powerful people in the pay of, or even directly profiting from, the slave and piracy trades.”
“That’s a strong statement,” he said slowly. “Why tell me?”
The smaller woman smiled. “Because I have confidence that you aren’t working for the Cadre or the slavers. I can’t think of anyone else I can be so certain of. Well, except for Agent Falcone.”
The agent laughed. “Nice save. I’m touched, of course. The fact that I came to her with instructions to introduce the two of us also plays some role, I’m sure.”
“Of course it does,” the Fleet investigator said as she rose to her feet. “That concludes my part of the program, I’m afraid. I’ll have one of your bridge officers escort me out, Captain. Good hunting to you both.”
Brad watched her leave and saw Shelly rising to meet her. Satisfied that the woman wasn’t going to wander around his ship, he returned his attention to Falcone.
“We were just discussing what we could do with prisoners. My combat team leader is convinced he can make them talk, if we manage to get our hands on a few live bodies.”
The woman nodded. “If we’re talking about low-level people, sure. Bigger prizes will keep their lips firmly shut. Or, worse, convince you they’re little fish. They have too much to lose.
“That’s how I can help. We’re very likely to get our hands on someone of significance, if we play our cards right. I’m trained in extracting information.”
“I heard what Greer said,” Brad said, “but I’m not convinced she told me the whole story. Why trust me?”
“Because you have so much to pay them back for, Captain Madrid. Or would you prefer Mantruso?”
That really set him back on his mental heels. Shock was quickly followed by the cold burn of rage in his gut. “I hadn’t expected to hear that name again. How did you find out?”
“Hard work. Once the agency became aware of you, I started asking questions and having other agents do the same. No one had ever heard of Brad Madrid. The first place we could link you to was where Freedom found you.”
The woman smiled a little. “If you’re wondering how Commodore Bailey knew, it’s because I told her. Don’t worry. Only a handful of people have that information, and even less know about Brad Mantruso.”
“I’d prefer to keep it that way,” he said slowly, forcing his unexpected anger back down. “If the Terror knows I’m coming for him, he’ll take steps to see that I’m stopped.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Like having the slavers put a bounty on your head, just like they did your ship? Probably. Put your mind at rest. Only my director and I know you went Dutchman from Mandrake’s Heart. Neither of us ever put it into any report.”
“How do I know you or your director aren’t working for the Cadre or slavers?”
Falcone shrugged. “It depends on how paranoid you’re willing to be. You know what they say. The only way three people can keep a secret is when two of them are dead.”
“I think we can safely say I’m not that paranoid,” Brad said dryly. “How did you find me?”
“Several of our agents compiled lists of overdue ships in the general area you were found. Once I had that, I started going over the crew manifests. Records are never complete, but your uncle didn’t have a reason to hide your presence. I matched your face.”
He supposed this day was inevitable, but he’d hoped to put it off for a while. “And I can count on your discretion?”
The woman smiled widely. “Discretion is both of my middle names. I’ll never mention your past again. There’s no need. I’m much more interested in your current incarnation, Captain Madrid. We’re going to become great friends, I think. We both want the same thing, you see.”
Her voice turned cold. “I want to see every pirate and slaver floating dead in space. I will scour the system for them, and I feel confident you will help me.”
Brad nodded slowly and gave her a small smile of his own. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, Agent Falcone. Let’s discuss our hunt, shall we?”
Chapter Nineteen
They linked up with the science ship the next day, right on schedule. From his seat on the bridge, Brad watched it undock. He knew that Falcone was doing the same from the small cabin they’d loaned her.
He’d offered her a spot on the bridge, but she’d declined, saying she’d take him up on that when they had some real work to do. Blamed a backlog of work she needed to catch up on.
That was probably for the best, he decided. It gave him an opportunity to discuss the new situation with his crew in privacy. Which, he admitted, might have been her intent all along.
“The science ship is clear of her dock,” Shelly said. “They’re boosting clear of MOSO on minimum thrust.”
“Take us after them, John,” he said.
“Don’t we want to make it look like last time?” the pilot asked. “Like we’re not even with them?”
“No. We want any observers to see us going about our business. The longer they think we’re fat, dumb, and happy, the better. What about our hidden escorts?”
“No sign of them,” Jason said. “Odds are that they left some time ago and are waiting out there for us to come to them. Hopefully not too far out.”
“What are the chances we’ll see them once we reach them?”
“Pretty good, with our sensors, and we have every reason to be looking hard.”
The tactical officer turned in his seat. “What if they aren’t out there, boss?”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been spending too much time with Randall. They’ll be there.”
Privately, he had to admit he shared the same concern. If Fleet was as deeply compromised as he thought, this would be a stellar way to get rid of him. Send him on a throwaway mission where he expected secret backup and then let the enemy kill him.
Or have pirates meet him, pretending to be Fleet vessels. That would be an even better ambush.
He cleared his throat. “Still, it might be best to keep on our toes. I want weapons hot at all times, and we won’t trust any stealthed ships too far. Keep an eye out for an ambush from them, too.”
Jason’s eyes widened as he caught Brad’s meaning. “That’s sneaky. We’d walk right into their arms. Not happening on my watch.”
They followed the science ship out toward deep space and matched its speed when it went to full acceleration. The other vessel wasn’t nearly as fast as Heart, so that wasn’t a problem.
“Incoming signal from the science ship,” Shelly said.
Brad straightened. “On screen.”
The view of the other ship vanished and was replaced by an older man in a tunic that was somewhere between a uniform and casual wear. His beard was a deep white and he had laugh lines around his eyes.
“Hello?” the man asked. “I’m Dr. Garret Keller, lead scientist and mission commander on Marie Curie. Whom am I addressing?”
“Good morning, Dr. Keller. My name is Brad Madrid. I’m the commanding officer on Heart of Vengeance.”
The doctor smiled. “What a suitably ominous name. Well, I just wanted to take a moment to touch base with you about our intended flight plan.”
Brad raised an eyebrow. “We’re just going to Io, Doctor. I know the way.”
“I’m sure you
do, but my people heard something about an attack on a liner between here and Io right before we left MOSO. It might be best to take a more circuitous route.”
Brad allowed himself a smile. “We know all about that attack, Doctor. We’re the ship that was guarding the liner. We have no reason to expect that group has any interest in your ship, though we of course would like you to maintain a higher-than-average state of readiness in case there is any trouble.”
That was technically untrue, but he didn’t want to panic the researchers. If Fleet hadn’t informed them that they’d been selected as a stalking horse, it wasn’t his place to inform them. As badly as that made him feel.
Besides, there might be someone in their crew passing information on to the enemy. Let them think he was presuming this to be a milk run.
“I have to say that doesn’t completely assuage my concerns,” the scientist said with a frown.
“You’ll just have to trust us to keep an eye out for you, Doctor. It’s the best we can do.”
The man sighed. “I suppose so. Will you inform us if we’re in danger?”
“Most assuredly.”
“Then I’ll take that back to my people. Thank you, Captain.”
The transmission ended.
“I’m seeing something that might be one of our shadows,” Jason said. “It’s on the far side of the science ship. Not directly behind it, but close enough.”
“Can you send a tight beam at them, Shelly?”
She shook her head. “They’re too close to Marie Curie. They’d catch the edges of the transmission.”
“If we have one shadow, we have three,” he told the tactical officer. “Find them.”
“It might take a bit. They have really good thermal shielding.”
In fact, it took almost five minutes to locate a second ship. It was flanking them and significantly farther out.
“Target them with a tight beam, Shelly. John, make sure we’re not in a position where a reply will clue Marie Curie in on our concealed escort.”