by Britt Ringel
The severity of the question erased Covington’s smile in a heartbeat. She swallowed as she considered and finally answered, “You tell Mum that her daughter gave her life protecting Seshafi and sacrifices such as that shouldn’t be left to only the average citizen.”
Danzy produced a small card and pushed it across the table to Covington. “I’d like to see you again, tomorrow, at this time and place. Be prepared to spar.”
Covington accepted the card. “Don’t I get to ask you a question?”
“Not yet.”
* * *
“Madam Assistant Secretary? Are you still here?”
The dim glow from the computer screen was the only light source in the corner office. The soft light smoothed Faith Lawson’s features as she looked toward her personal assistant. “Yes, Ruth. I’m just trying to get these numbers to match up… or, as we call it, Tuesday night.”
“Secretary Lawson, you should let your undersecretaries do that,” the assistant scolded mildly. “That’s what they’re paid for, ma’am. It’s late. You should get some rest before the appropriations meeting tomorrow.”
Lawson brought a weary hand to her forehead. The numbers on the screen had become a blurry mess, both figuratively and literally. “Why do they never match up exactly?” she wondered aloud. “Why can’t the Republic keep accurate accounts?”
Her assistant cocked her head to one side in sympathy. “It’s the nature of the beast, Madam Secretary. I’ve been the personal assistant to the Assistant Secretary of Appropriations for over twenty-five years and I can tell you that our books never match exactly.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard,” Lawson insisted.
“It’s a big, big Republic, ma’am. For what it’s worth, I’ve never seen Appropriations keep such an accurate account in all my years before you were promoted.” The older woman began to back away toward the door. “Get some rest, ma’am,” she reminded before closing it.
“I will,” Lawson promised, more to herself than her subordinate. She mumbled as she returned her attention to the computer screen, “I just need the aggregates on nav-buoy maintenance for the Chaldene system.” Drawing a circle on the screen with her index finger, she captured a portion of a field report and dropped it inside last year’s budget request. Silicon circuits juggled the hundreds of variables against a simple algorithm and spit out an answer.
Lawson’s fatigue nearly caused her to overlook the discrepancy. What the hell? She squinted at the screen, searching. The amount, while tiny compared to the overall budget for buoy maintenance, was still ten times over the requested amount from last year.
She groaned and looked toward the ceiling. “Did you add an extra, damned zero, Faith?” The groan turned into a growl as years of frustration welled up inside her. She typed savagely at her keyboard to save and close the file. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!”
Lawson spun in her office chair to face large wall screens set to window mode. New London’s finance building was in the heart of Birmingham. Artificial light from the large city brought a warm glow to the darkened sky. Lawson’s view, seventy-five floors up, softened the cruel edges of the urban center, giving it a welcome, nearly peaceful visage. Below her, thousands of aircars were traveling down Birmingham’s FR-12, the major airway through the city. From this distance, lights from individual cars appeared to merge with the cars around them to form the illusion of a single, writhing snake. The illusion was mesmerizing to behold.
So many single points of light, blurred together to deceive the eye, she thought poetically.
Inspiration struck.
Lawson spun back to her computer and searched for a five-year-old file. The quest took nearly half an hour. She had almost given up hope before stumbling upon the old financial report that she had apparently mislabeled years ago. Within it, she inspected the expected financial requirements for two star systems on the Republic’s northern border. Noting the total cost, she compared that sum to the amount that was requested the year before and calculated the variance. The amounts were small compared to the overall Space Navigation Maintenance Budget for the Republic but the numbers differed by a factor of ten.
Lawson pulled up her most recent budget request from Chaldene. The difference between the amount spent last year and requested for the coming year, again small in the grand scheme of finance, was a factor of ten.
The Assistant Secretary of Appropriations scrutinized twenty-six more star systems over the next six hours and found the pattern repeated twenty-one times, dating back as long ago as five years.
Chapter 34
“No keikogi and hakama?” Joab asked as he stretched his shoulders. He stood in the center of the room like he owned it.
“I won’t be wearing them in a fight,” answered Covington. She had already stretched before entering the large room with a padded floor but did again out of nervousness.
From a corner, Danzy stated, “This is just an evaluation of your close-quarters technique, Aoife.” He looked pointedly at Joab. “No broken bones or dislocations… no injuries that might put one of you out of commission for more than a day or two… understood?”
“Yeah,” Joab agreed while pulling a thickly padded glove over his cybernetic hand. He looked across the matting and glowered. “So, marine martial arts and aikido, huh? Anything else on your resume?”
“Weapon-taking, weapon-retention,” Covington answered. “A little work with a tantō.”
“Knife fighting?” Joab looked skeptically at his opponent. He began to circle her slowly as he spoke. “The best martial artist I ever knew taught me that the smartest defense against a knife-fighter was to run away, because if you encountered someone crazy enough to carry a knife instead of a gun, they’d cut you to ribbons.”
She circled with him while assuming a neutral stance. “Well, most of my practice was aikido tantō dori,” Covington admitted. “What am I getting myself into?”
“I thought I’d surprise you,” Joab said before stalking straight toward her. He curled his fingers into fists and raised them high but away from his head.
Covington immediately began backing away, appraising the giant’s stance. “Ugh,” she groaned. “Muay Thai?” A devilish smile crossed her face. “I hope that means your ground game sucks.” She willed herself to concentrate on the man’s torso.
Joab smiled darkly and took a second confident step toward her before unleashing a simple snap kick. Covington reacted in a blur, stepping to one side while stroking swiftly downward with her left arm to redirect the momentum of his leg away from her body. No sooner had his foot passed harmlessly to her right than the lithe woman stepped forward, arm flashing up and forward, smashing the inside fold of her elbow against his throat. Joab had little choice but to accept the energy by rolling backward onto the mat.
“Not bad,” he commented, looking up at her. “I didn’t expect you to enter and do an iriminage.” He lifted himself off the mat and brushed the hair from his eyes. Again, he slowly circled while closing the distance to arm’s reach. He launched a swift jab with his gloved fist destined for her jaw.
Covington reflexively raised her right hand higher and swept it forward and out while sidestepping the blow. She gritted her teeth against the pain of the deflection.
“Nice work,” Joab complimented again. “You didn’t attempt an aikido technique; you just went with a simple block.”
She shook her head while keeping her guard up. “That was too fast. I’d never be able to grab your hand before you retracted it.” She smiled slightly. “Try me with a cross though.”
Joab closed the gap and feinted a right cross then immediately followed with a push kick. The bottom of his large foot connected with her sternum and kicked out, sending her flying backwards. He let a nasty sneer spread over his face while his smaller opponent landed hard on her back.
Covington rolled over quickly and was back on her feet in seconds. Joab could see the stinging blow had watered her eyes but also witnessed a growing heat with
in her pale, green orbs. She launched herself at Joab with a growl and delivered a ferocious jumping side kick that Joab could only partially block. The impact staggered him but a heartbeat later, Joab’s meaty right fist drove straight toward Covington’s chin. The agile woman deflected the incoming blow with lightning reactions but this time brought her right hand under the bruiser’s wrist before clamping her other hand over his fist. She jerked violently on his thumb while pushing forward with her right hand. Joab’s own momentum worked against him as he sought to pull back his captured hand and his opponent’s forearm return technique forced him off balance, backwards and onto the mat. Hands still applying torque, Covington quickly stepped around the prone man to place him into a shoulder lock. After proving control, she released her grip and backed away.
“How are you with hand attacks?” Danzy asked as Joab rose to his feet.
Covington and Joab circled slowly once more as she answered. “My sincere attacks with aikido are a little weak,” she admitted. “I use the strikes I learned from the marines. To be honest, I’m more comfortable with defense than offense.” She flashed a speed jab toward Joab’s jaw who easily parried with a block that knocked her right hand inside and downward.
Covington’s eyes picked up the movement of Joab’s right cross counterpunch and she set herself up for a sidestep to her left. Using her right hand to direct the punch’s momentum past her right side, she retracted her left hand and executed another forearm return, ending the sequence with a shoulder lock.
Joab picked himself off the mat once more and asked, “Seen enough, Kyle?”
“Yes,” Danzy replied, looking at Covington. “Well, we’ve seen your marine range results and you earned pistol and rifle marksman qualification badges, not to mention a scout sniper secondary MOS.” He opened the door while suggesting, “Why don’t you get cleaned up, Aoife? Alden wants to have lunch with you in an hour.”
Covington nodded and quickly exited the room. Once clear, Danzy approached Joab. “So how was she?”
Joab removed his padded glove. “I liked the iriminage,” he growled. “That shows confidence. Most people want to back away from me. She’s also quick and her locks are solid but she needs to work on offense. Fighting isn’t a ‘you go, I go’ thing. A good fighter knows how to begin and end a fight in the first blow.”
“Are you saying ‘No’ then?”
“I didn’t say that, Kyle,” Joab answered crossly. “You saw her reaction to my push kick. Pure aggression, I can work with that. I only meant that she has room for improvement but, yeah, she can defend herself and she has the mindset needed to win a fight.” He ran a hand through his long hair to sweep it out of his eyes. “And her marksmanship is unquestionable. They don’t just hand out scout sniper badges.”
“But she’s got no real world experience,” Danzy countered.
“And you don’t get any until someone gives you a chance.”
“Well,” Danzy hedged, “let’s see if she passes Alden’s test.”
“I couldn’t,” muttered Joab.
* * *
“Faith, quiet!”
Lawson rocked back at the rebuke from her old friend. “What?”
Daniel Collins looked around the office suspiciously. When he finally spoke, it was in hushed tones. “Faith, how many searches have you done on this? Did you use just your computer?”
“What are you talking about, Dan?” Lawson asked.
“Answer the question!”
Her expression screwed into confusion. “I... I used my datapad and the computer in my office.” The man seated near her blanched. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be excited.”
Collins leaned close. “The stuff you’re showing me reeks of black money, Faith.”
“What?” she exclaimed. The corners of her mouth began to turn upward. “Dan, I think you’ve been watching too many holo-vids.” She gestured toward her datapad. “This is fraud, waste and abuse on a large scale but this isn’t anything so sinister.” She pointed more precisely at the columns of numbers across the screen. “Look at this. Over the last half-decade, I’ve found more than fifty separate instances where maintenance funding requests have been overinflated by a factor of ten for space navigation alone.” She punched at her datapad while explaining excitedly, “That’s just maintenance, Dan! Look how this pattern repeats itself with civil pacification equipment.” She used her finger to flick to a third screen. “And with satellite costs.”
Lawson swiped her finger across the screen to bring it into default mode. “Someone is getting very rich off this. When I inform my boss—”
Collins shook his head insistently. “You can’t say anything, Faith. In fact, you need to delete all this work and pretend you never found it… and pray they haven’t noticed.”
She stared incredulously at the man seated across from her. “Dan, what is wrong with you? Someone is cheating the Republic out of a fortune. When Internal Security is alerted—”
“They’ll kill you, Faith.”
Lawson’s jaw fell open. She sat stunned for several seconds before regaining her composure. “You don’t think I’m involved, do you? You know me, Dan. I’m not a crooked politician. I just happened to be the woman who took her job seriously enough to find these small discrepancies and piece them together.”
“Faith,” Collins implored, “please don’t tell the Minister of Finance. I worked inside Finance for over forty years before I retired. I’ve been your friend and mentor for twenty years. I’m telling you that you need to drop this before you get hurt.” He looked away briefly before asking, “Have you told anyone else about this? Have you noticed anyone following you? Have you started dating anyone recently?”
“No,” Lawson replied uneasily. “You make this out like it’s a bad spy holo-vid. Maybe the Republic worked like that half a century ago but not today. It’s a respectable government. I have a duty to safeguard the people’s money. I can’t shirk that; they’re counting on me.”
Collins stood abruptly and retreated toward the exit before turning to face his friend. “I like you, Faith. You have a good heart. You helped me a lot when Maggie died so I’m going to warn you one last time. Please don’t pursue this.” He placed a weathered hand on the door controls. “And if you insist on doing so, don’t mention my name or contact me again.”
The portal whisked open and her trusted friend of twenty-one years slipped away.
* * *
Aoife Covington entered Fair Trade at precisely 14:00, local time. She stood at the foyer in comfortable, dark slacks and a green top that matched her eyes, looking for Alden Wills. The dining portion of the restaurant was nearly empty; the bar held more people.
“May I help you, ma’am,” the smiling hostess asked while walking around her station.
Off to the left, seated at a booth near the bar, Wills flashed a mouth-watering smile and friendly wave. The man oozed confident sensuality. Covington felt her own face light up at the sight of him. “No, thanks,” she told the hostess while pointing toward Wills. “I see my party.”
As she walked away, Covington heard the hostess murmur, “Lucky girl.” She moved quickly across the bar and slipped into the booth.
“Hello, Aoife,” Wills greeted in a delicious baritone. “Can I offer you anything?”
She resisted the temptation to smirk at the remark and instead answered, “Hello. Are you having anything?”
Wills tapped subtly at the glass atop the table’s beverage strip with clear liquid inside. Covington swiped over her datapad and Fair Trade’s menu appeared. She quickly ordered tea.
Wills ran his fingertip over the rim of his glass and began. “Aoife, despite the acronym, ATAC teams prefer to avoid violence. The application of finesse almost always results in accomplishing our goal in a much safer and more cost-effective manner.” He withdrew his hand from the glass. “Not only does accomplishing a mission without body bags keep us well within the corporate rules for espionage but the lack of a bloody trail make
s it harder for our targets to trace our actions back to Seshafi.”
Covington nodded acceptance but asked, “Then why does each team have two combative technicians?”
“Why do you think?”
She looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Because no plan survives first contact with the enemy.”
Wills smirked. “True. However, it’s also because we are a team that works together to solve our problems. You see, Joab is not only a striker. Yes, it’s his primary function, just as it would be yours but Joab’s second role is to back up Kyle.”
Covington’s green eyes widened. “Joab is second in command?”
“Did I say that?” Wills answered with a measure of amusement. “I merely said in the event that Kyle isn’t the tactics tech, Joab assumes those duties. You see, each of us has a primary role we fill and a secondary.”
“What’s yours?”
Wills flashed his brilliant, white teeth again. “What do you think it is?”
Covington considered the question. “You back up Innocencia, don’t you?”
“Precisely. I do so because I have some affinity with silicon brains just as I do with ones based on carbon. Inn strikes… actually, quite hard.”
“So my secondary job would be doing what you do,” Covington guessed.
“Yes. Our team needs a secondary social technician who also happens to be female. The person you would be replacing, Marka, was very rough around the edges in that capacity. She was a good team member and a superb striker but I never could get her to apply finesse to her confidence game.”
“How did she do it then?”
“Let’s just say she used her distinctly feminine attributes... overtly,” Wills answered with a grin.
Covington’s eyebrows rode up her forehead as her cheeks colored. “Mr. Wills, I hope you’re not suggesting….”
“Certainly not, Lady Covington,” Wills agreed. “My expectations are much higher for you. You have over twenty years of experience in the gentry. You have that potential for sophistication and have witnessed the finesse we need in every ball you’ve ever attended. Surely you watched your father deal with corporate sharks.”