Wings of Steele 3: Revenge and Retribution

by Jeffrey Burger

  Derrik Brighton took a deep breath, unhurried, deliberate. “I apologize for the deception Admiral; I assure you it was absolutely necessary and no affront to you personally or professionally.” He reached into his uniform tunic...

  Steele's hand dipped and emerged from under his leg, hybrid 1911 in hand, appearing from its hiding spot. “Slowly Mr. Brighton, don't do anything foolish...”

  The Commander raised his hands, “I wouldn't think of it, sir.” He pointed at his tunic, “May I retrieve my ID?” Steele nodded curtly and the Commander reached into his neckline, pulling the linkless serpentine chain around his neck, his clear, holographic military ID appearing, sliding it over his head and laying it on the desk next to Maria. He readjusted his position and crossed his legs at the knee, his hands resting in his lap as before. “It is true, I am with MI6, I have been for many years...” He paused, eying the Marines at the door, “What I'm about to tell you is all classified, Admiral...”

  “They stay, Mr. Brighton. Get on with it.”

  “Very well,” he acknowledged. “My position with MI6 is legitimate but it is my cover...” He pointed at the ID on the desk, looking at Maria, would you be so kind as to scan my ID please?”

  Maria glanced at Jack and got an approving nod, passing the card near the reader, the computer pulling up his UFW military records and displaying them on the screen at the work station.

  “Now a retinal scan...” added Derrik.

  Maria picked up an e-Pad and held it out as he stared at the unit, the screen projecting a green bar passing slowly across his eyes. She sent the scan to the computer and a new screen popped up, overlaying the first. “Passcode?”

  Derrik took the e-pad and typed in a lengthy series of information, hitting send. “Alright, it might take a while for it to verify and provide everything we need...”

  “In the meantime?” asked Steele.

  “In the meantime, I shall explain what the data will prove out.” He leaned comfortably back in his chair. “My position with MI6, while useful, is not my true assignment; I get more information from them than I give... In fact, Derrik Brighton is not my real identity...” He looked at each person before continuing. “Like Professor Edgars, who really is my Uncle by the way, I was not born on Earth. I am an alien. My real identity is Major Durock Brithauz. I am a special agent with GIS... I came to Earth as a young man with Uncle when he had the position I have now.”

  Steele raised a dubious eyebrow, “GIS?”

  “GIS; Galactic Intelligence Service. GIS works separately but in concert with MIS, Military Intelligence Service. While their scope is generally limited to military secrets, treason and military espionage, GIS has a much broader base covering smuggling, terrorism, espionage, governmental intelligence, infiltration, etc. There are places where our services overlap and we coordinate efforts, but for the most part we operate autonomous of one another.”

  “And Walt was a part of this GIS?”

  “Yes, Admiral. Colonel Walter Edgars. He is retired, of course.”

  “Of course.” Steele's face pinched in contemplation, his lips pressed tight. “And when did he retire, Mr. Brighton..?”

  “On... Veloria...” he replied slowly.

  Jack's eyes narrowed, boring holes into Brighton, or Brithauz, or whatever the hell his name was... The muzzle of the 1911 charged particle blaster found its way back toward the man sitting in the chair, “Are my wife and son safe...?”

  “Absolutely!” Brighton replied without hesitation. “In fact, that's primarily why Uncle decided to retire. He felt it necessary to protect your family and the stability of Veloria. That entire region of space relies on the stability of Veloria. Being retired he knew he could not be reassigned, he could remain there. He felt with his expertise and connections he could spot any threats, neutralize them before they came into play. Just because he's retired does not mean he has lost his connections, influence or resources.”

  “We will be able to confirm this?”

  “Yes, Admiral. The retirement was strategized and planned. It was intentional to secure the region and keep an eye on it. GIS and MIS both approved the decision. There's a lot of information flowing through that system, and with him there, they have eyes and ears they can trust.”

  Steele's mind was rolling history backwards, looking for something, anything, that he might have overlooked. “What about when we met?”

  “Sir?”

  “On the princess Hedonist. Was that an accident? Our meeting?”

  “Completely a matter of fate, Admiral. Fortuitous I might add. Although...”

  “Although what?” interrupted Jack.

  “Although once we got to know you a bit, we realized you were someone who required watching. Your whole group in fact.”

  Steele frowned, “Why is that?”

  “Because you had drive... a real homing instinct...”

  “And that's somehow bad?”

  The Commander shifted his weight, uncrossing and recrossing his legs in reverse. “In a spacefaring community you don't see that very much. When you can carry everything you own, family and belongings in a ship, home is where you are, where you go. People don't have the same attachment to places...”

  Steele thought about that for a moment. “Hmm, like an RV. Nomadic travel.”

  “If you think about it, Admiral, that's exactly how humanity spread throughout the stars. It's how we got to where we are today. And your desire, your group's desire was a little out of the norm for us to see. We were ordered to keep an eye on you...”

  “What the hell for?” interrupted Maria.

  “We weren't sure. They were unsure, collectively, what you might be capable of, what you might do to achieve your goal. I think initially, Control was more curious than anything else. But then when you took the Ynosa from Captain Kidd and claimed it for yourselves, renaming it the Freedom, that shocked them. They were very concerned.”

  Steele pinched his lips, “Concerned how...”

  “Concerned how effortlessly your group seemed to transition to violence, how willing others were to follow your leadership...”

  “Might I remind you, Commander, you and your Uncle were right there being violent alongside us?”

  “Derrik smiled, “I never said the operation was a bad idea Admiral... It seemed you had a good chance of success. Uncle and I wanted to do what we could to assure that success and to take down a wanted pirate in the process. Though to be honest, I found the execution of Kidd a little... savage.”

  Steele reached over and patted Fritz's head. “I think we'd have to disagree with you on that...”

  “Very bad man,” grumbled Fritz, articulating slowly.

  “I will say,” added Jack, thinking of Voorlak, “that my conscience and I had a discussion about that... While I am not proud of my actions, and initially felt regret, I don't know if put in the same situation today, I would react any differently. It feels to me like an instinctual defensive reaction when faced with pure evil. I have come to terms with it and I make no apologies, right or wrong...”

  “There is absolutely no doubt,” offered Derrik, “that Kidd was a completely horrendous waste of flesh. And whether he ever had a soul or not, is probably open for extensive debate. And I cannot even make the argument that he deserved better, because I can think of more deserving, hideous and gratuitous ways of killing him...”

  “So what are you saying then?”

  “It was the chilling way it seemed to come to you so easily. And that's what they were the most concerned about.”

  “And whose version of the events were they relying on to make that assessment?”

  “Mine,” admitted Derrik. “Because as you remember, Uncle was wounded and on his way to the infirmary during the event. Uncle did provide an addendum to the report of his observations and opinions, which carried considerable weight because of his experience and rank. Probably why they chose to continue observation and reassign us instead of the possible alternative.”


  Steel raised a questioning eyebrow, “Possible alternative, Commander?”

  “We were originally headed to new assignments. Mine in Phi Lanka, Uncle was heading back to UFW Directorate on Tanzia. They reassigned us both to follow you and your crew... the best way to do that was to be a part of your crew.” He looked down at his hands, wringing them together to release tension, a human moment, which he hadn't shown until this point. “Control wanted to be sure you weren't a Kidd in the making. Uncle was already convinced you weren't, I wasn't so sure... Power and control have a way of affecting people, eh? Even good people.”

  “I suppose... You haven't mentioned what the alternative was.”

  Derrik cleared his throat, looking Steele in the eyes, “It would have been relatively painless. And it would've looked like natural causes...” He sat back in his chair again, shifting his weight, “I'm glad time proved Uncle right.”

  “That makes two of us,” retorted Jack. “So what are you still doing here then? Still observing? Still judging?”

  Maria was seeing information from GIS Control filling her screen. “Jack, you probably need to see this... Forwarding this to your TESS.”

  “Incoming information, Admiral,” announced TESS, her screen popping up. Jack grabbed a corner and enlarged it, the information flowing in:

  GIS Control, K-Star Sector Command

  Major Durock Brithauz, AKA: Commander Derrik Brighton

  Serial Number: Redacted

  GIS Control Handler: Vetry B'nock

  Current Attachment: Task Force Lancer, Carrier Conquest

  Force Commander: Vice Admiral Jack Steele

  Immediate Commander: Captain Paul Smiley

  Current Assignment: Operation Magic Pawn

  Accompanying the avalanche of information scrolling down the screen were photos, official agency seals and logos, past assignments, operations and accomplishments, personal information, medical records and contact information.

  “Hmm, Operation Magic Pawn...” The information finally stopped, Steele examining it carefully. “OK,” he waved, casually. “This is all very nice, very thorough. But because of past experience, let's just say I'm a skeptic. How could I confirm this..? I want to know what Magic Pawn is, and I'm assuming you're not going to tell me.”

  “You could call my handler, Vetry B'nock. She'd be able to...”

  Steele shook his head and waved it off, “Na, I don't know her...” He looked at Maria, “Let's see if we can get Admiral Kelarez...”

  “No, no,” objected Derrik, “don't do that...”

  “Why not?” asked Maria suspiciously.

  “Because he won't know,” countered the Commander. “Call Fleet Admiral Higdenberger, he's Chief of Staff of MIS and one of the Joint Chiefs of GIS. He'll be able to clear you and provide the information... I cannot.”

  “Can't or won't?” asked Jack.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  EARTH : RETRIBUTION and the HOUSE OF CARDS

  The blue and green marble surrounded by black looked like a piece of shiny candy to Steele as he viewed it from the shuttle's slit windows. Funny how un-black it was out here, the Milky Way spread out behind it. He wondered, if it was a piece of candy, what flavor it would be...

  It was a brief diversion to avoid thinking about what was really on his mind. Operation Magic Pawn. It was so disturbing he wanted it to be a bad dream as opposed to reality. He wished it was a bad dream, it was much closer to a nightmare. Of staggering proportions. Despicable, devious, evil, callous, showing a complete disregard for life or liberty, driven by immeasurable greed and an unquenchable thirst for power. Apocalyptic in scope. Nearly extinction level.

  His eyes watered with anguish as he stared at that shining orb, it's seven billion inhabitants, most of which were completely innocent of their fate, clueless livestock living out their days in ignorant bliss. The Shepherd in the seat next to him set his head on Steele's thigh, looking up at his human with one real brown eye and one green eye that glowed softly in the dark interior of the shuttle. “What the hell are we gonna do buddy?” he breathed.

  “Fix it.”

  No longer a simple dog's mind, Fritz was capable of human reasoning and intelligence. He was definitely smarter than many people Steele had met throughout his lifetime. But he wondered if the Shepherd knew how much was involved in those two simple words. If he could understand the width and breadth of the situation. He took a deep breath and stroked the top of the dog's head, “Yeah buddy, we'll fix it.”

  ■ ■ ■

  After completing the shuttle's shutdown, Lisa hustled across Revenge's bay, catching Fritz and her brother at the elevator, “You're walking better...” She held out his cane, “You forgot this...”

  He took it without a word as the door swished open, stepping in, “Mm, thanks,” he mumbled deep in thought.

  The three of them stood silently as the elevator carried them up to the command deck, the car slowing, the door swishing back open again. “What the hell happened after the Admiral made us leave the room, Jack? What's going on? And Brighton, you just let him go back to duty... I don't get it. I can't believe you trust him...”

  “He's a Brother...” said Jack quietly, heading for the infirmary.

  “He's a Mason?”

  Steele rubbed his face, “He's an Ancient Knight's Templar...”

  “Like you...” she replied. It was more a statement than a question.

  “No. I'm a Knight's Templar. He's an Ancient Knight's Templar...”

  “What's the difference?” she frowned.

  “About five-hundred-thousand years.” His hands were shaking and he was sweating, something he hadn't been aware of until that moment.

  “He's not that old...”

  “No, of course not. But his order goes back that far... It appears all of Masonry does. It's freaking me out a bit.” He wiped the perspiration off his forehead, “He spoke perfect Aramaic...”

  “Is that a language? How did you know what it was..?”

  “Not sure, something with the translator... I just knew. Aramic was the oldest form of language ever recorded on Earth, dating back to 700 B.C., it's what Jesus Christ spoke...”

  “Whoa...” She gently steered her brother through the infirmary doors and to the first bed, easing him down, lifting his feet up. “You look a little pale, I'm going to go get the doctor.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Maria stood with Lisa near the bed, an IV bag dripping into Jack's arm as he slept, a small device near him blowing pure oxygen across his face. “Is he OK?”

  Lisa nodded, “Doctor said he overdid it today. Didn't have enough fluids or food. His blood sugar was way low.”

  “Did he say what went on when we had to leave?”

  Lisa leaned back against the wall, “Nothing about Operation Magic Pawn, which has me really worried. All he could say when he was falling asleep is we need to find mom and dad and get them out before the World burns...”

  Maria's eyes went wide, “Before the World burns? What the hell does that mean?”

  “I don't know but I'm scared. Even If I'm not going to live here anymore I don't want that...”

  A scream of panic from another part of the infirmary cut her off, the two women sharing a curious glance. They both darted in the direction of the commotion, leaving Fritz laying on the bed at Jack's feet.

  Still laying in the MPOT, a frightened Mercedes Huang was doing her best to fight off the nurse changing her dressings. The nurse, reaching in through the stasis field, tried to calm her to little effect.

  Arriving together, Maria moved the nurse aside, “She doesn't understand you...” She slapped the button on the MPOT shutting off the translucent blue shimmer of the stasis field, reaching into the torpedo shaped capsule. “Mercedes! Mercedes!” She gripped her firmly by the shoulders, “Agent Huang! You're safe, you are safe...” Mercedes stopped struggling, her mouth open, no sound coming out. “You're alright...” Maria assured her. “Remember me? Maria Arroyo? Quantico..?” Ma
ria could see a bright spot of recognition, “That's right, the Academy. Listen you've been shot. You're going to be alright but you need to let the nurse finish your dressing, OK?”

  Mercedes nodded silently.

  Maria held her hand, “I'll stay right here. We're going to turn the blue screen back on, it won't hurt you, it just holds the air in; like an oxygen tent.” The blue screen wavered back into view, Maria still holding her hand. “See? You can reach through it,” she added, lifting Mercedes trembling hand through the static, letting it ease back down.

  “Am I on that thing?” Mercedes asked weakly.

  “Yes, you're on the black ship. And yes, the nurse is an alien. The doctor is an alien too. You can't understand them yet, you don't have a translator. You'll get one soon.”

  “Steele?”

  “He's here. You did a good job. Thank you for that...”

  “The robot?”

  “Robot?” frowned Maria. “Ahhh, the Marines. Those are armored suits. There was a man inside there, a Space Marine.”

  “Huh. Alien?”

  “Yes, most are aliens. There are people from Earth out here too though.”

  They were looking at each other through the glass side of the tube, Mercedes' eyes wet, “Will I get to go home?”

  Maria took a measured breath, looking into her eyes. “I seriously doubt it. Your mission is over, Mercy. It seems anyone who goes back is instantly a pariah. Look at Steele...”

  “I wasn't with them, you know... Doug, the leader of the team, he was obsessed...”