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Black Sword (Decker's War, #5)

Page 33

by Eric Thomson


  Moments later, they heard footsteps in the bullpen, then Yang filled the open doorway. He caught sight of Decker and Talyn, both in uniform, taking their ease with Ulrich. His face tightened in an attempt to restrain any show of emotion.

  “Hey, Manny,” Decker said raising his mug in salute. “How are they hanging?”

  Forty-Nine

  Seeing Yang’s jaw muscles work hard as he bit back a string of choice words, Talyn gave him her sweetest smile.

  “Did you find anything interesting in Peony?” She asked. “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay to greet you, but duty called.”

  Ulrich pointed at a vacant chair.

  “Please sit, Manfred. We four have matters to discuss before they spin out of control.”

  “What is Decker doing here, wearing his old uniform,” Yang asked through clenched teeth as he obeyed. “He’s still a convicted criminal and a deserter.”

  “Not anymore,” Ulrich replied in a sad tone. “Your attempt to prevent me from clearing his record failed. I was able to fix the errors you introduced in the system. Perhaps you didn’t consider that such a rash act would support Hera’s contention you’ve betrayed us. But we’re not here to discuss Major Decker or Commander Talyn, though I’m glad to see them home safe and sound.”

  “When did Black Sword recruit you, Manny?” Decker asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Yang gave him a disgusted look.

  “What in heaven’s name are you on about? Black Sword? Have you been reading too many childish adventure stories?”

  “Why did you raid Peony without my authorization?” Ulrich asked.

  “To secure Talyn and Decker, sir. I’ve come upon information they might have been involved in the abduction of a senior Marine Corps officer. I thought it best to remove them from the board before they could embarrass the Service.”

  “Are you talking about Colonel Allister Wynt?” Talyn asked. “As in this Allister Wynt?”

  She turned on her tablet and played the interrogation video.

  “The drugs made him delusional,” Yang said in a dismissive tone after watching for a few minutes. “There’s no such thing as a secret society of officers determined to roll back Admiral Kowalski’s reforms.”

  “Major Redmon says differently,” Decker interjected.

  “Ariane Redmon is a convicted criminal. She has no credibility.”

  “You didn't answer why you raided Peony without my authorization,” Ulrich said. “Using an action team requires section chief approval.”

  “To secure rogue agents, sir.”

  “That doesn’t tell me why you didn’t obtain my authorization.”

  “How long have you known Allister Wynt?” Talyn asked. “When did he recruit you?”

  “I don’t know this Allister Wynt,” Yang replied.

  “Then why are you pursuing the matter of his abduction. I would have thought it best left to the police?”

  “Because rogue agents — you and Decker — were in play.” Yang turned an indignant stare on his superior. “Why do you allow this charade, sir? These two have clearly overstepped their bounds and are imperiling the section’s existence.”

  Ulrich, in the same, patient, almost didactic tone asked, “Why did you raid Peony without my authorization? And why did you try to prevent any corrections to Major Decker’s service record?”

  “Because Manny’s an arrogant fool who thinks the rest of us are beneath him,” Decker said. “He resents the fact that amateurs like me are brought into the holiest of intelligence sections, while he’s condemned to a life of desk work.”

  “You are never to call me Manny, Major,” Yang growled.

  Decker gave him a sardonic grin.

  “We’re making progress. Manny acknowledges I’m a major, not a convict.”

  “When did Allister Wynt recruit you?” Ulrich asked.

  Yang’s voice rose to a shout. “That fool? He didn’t. I helped recruit him!”

  Dead silence filled Ulrich’s office as Yang’s words registered. The latter, realizing what he had said, looked away, his facial muscles fighting off a murderous rage.

  “Here’s the deal, Manfred,” the Special Operations Section chief said. “You’ll tell us what you know, point us at every other co-conspirator, and I will allow you to retire honorably.”

  “Bullshit,” Yang replied through clenched teeth. “I spill my guts and end up like Wynt.”

  “No.” Ulrich shook his head. “For old times’ sake, Manfred, for the missions we ran together, if you buy back a measure of honor, I’ll keep my word. Give us everything, then retire and never dip a toe in politics or Fleet affairs again. You can live to a hundred and twenty unmolested for all I care.”

  “Considering how many have died because of his betrayal, I think that’s a bit over the top, sir,” Decker said with an edge of anger.

  Talyn laid a hand on his arm.

  “Shush. You’re not helping.”

  He glanced at her only to meet imploring eyes. She gave him an encouraging nod.

  “There was a time,” Ulrich said, “when an officer who’d disgraced himself would be locked in a room with a weapon and a single round of ammunition. If he shot himself, his comrades would bury him with full military honors. If he didn’t, he would be tried and when found guilty, executed by firing squad, and buried in a pauper’s grave. I’m offering you one better.”

  “You should take it, Manfred,” Talyn said. “Otherwise, I’ll work my way around your conditioning. It’ll no doubt take a long time, and the pain will be incredible. Plus, there’s a good chance you’ll end up mostly paralyzed, with no chance of rehabilitation. But you’ll talk. I’ve honed my techniques on more insurgents than I care to remember.”

  “You have my word,” Ulrich said. “Cooperate, and I will spare your reputation as well as let you retire honorably. Black Sword need not know you’ve returned to the fold before leaving for greener pastures.”

  “What would you do with any hypothetical information I may or may not be able to impart?” Yang asked.

  “My duty to the Fleet.”

  Yang stared in silence at the table for a long time. Then a mental dam seemed to burst without warning.

  “Do you realize a lot of this is your fault, Decker?” Yang said, looking up at the Marine with a defiant stare. “You and others of your kind perverting the Fleet’s ideals. I suppose I might not have succumbed to Black Sword’s promises were it not for your return from a life of slavery. Captain Ulrich taking you into the Special Operations Section as a field agent at Hera’s urging, when you had no training or experience whatsoever was an unforgivable wrong. It cheapened the hard work and sacrifices we made to get here and introduced fatal amateurishness into a deadly serious business.”

  Zack met Yang’s gaze with emotionless eyes and took a sip of coffee.

  “Around the time Decker and Hera were chasing Amali, against every bit of advice I gave Captain Ulrich,” Yang continued, “Grace Berglin, then a commodore and the counterintelligence division’s chief of staff, befriended me. We chiefs of staff of the various Naval Intelligence sections meet regularly to coordinate our respective activities, so she had occasion to notice my growing disillusionment. Though I didn’t know Berglin was one of Black Sword’s senior members at the time, I came to realize she was carefully grooming me over a period of months.”

  “This would explain why Black Sword’s existence never came to our attention,” Ulrich said. “With Berglin now a rear admiral and counterintelligence’s number two, that organization has been thoroughly compromised.”

  Yang nodded.

  “Indeed. Through Berglin, I gradually met other officers in the CNI branch unhappy with the nature of the Fleet we served, and we formed a bond of sorts. They had established an informal data exchange to help each other nudge things into what they believed was the right direction. After Decker’s formal entry into the Special Operations Section, I joined them so I might keep Captain Ulrich’s worst impulses in check. N
o one else saw the dangers I did. Once I had committed myself, Berglin formally inducted me into Black Sword.”

  He paused to compose himself and search for his next words.

  “Once firmly inside Berglin’s circle, I was asked to make a note of other disillusioned officers ripe for the picking. I came across Colonel Wynt at a meeting to discuss the coordination of covert operations, and he struck me as someone else fed up with the status quo. Berglin didn’t allow me to bring Wynt into my circle but had another member recruit him. She preferred that I be known by as few people as possible, due to my position.”

  “Are you responsible for our missions failing with increasing frequency?” Talyn asked.

  “In part.” His dismissive shrug and detached tone pointed at a lack of contrition. “The Special Operations Section was increasingly acting against the Fleet’s best interests.”

  “Sending fellow agents to their deaths didn’t bother you?” Ulrich asked in a soft voice.

  “I may not be quite as cold-blooded as Hera, but I’m hardly a sentimental fool like some.” His eyes briefly rested on Decker. “This is a war for the Fleet’s soul and through it for the Commonwealth’s future. People die in war.”

  “Which other Black Sword members do you know, Manfred?”

  Yang rattled off a list of names, mercifully short, but all of them officers working for the CNI. It was enough to send an icy spear through their hearts. Then he slumped back. An unexpected flood of relief loosened his taut features as if the confession had liberated something vital within him.

  Ulrich, after a moment of reflection, stood and went to his desk. He picked up a tablet and let his fingers dance over its screen.

  “Commander Yang, I have regretfully accepted your request to take early retirement. As of one minute after midnight this morning, you have no longer been on active duty. Please turn your credentials over to Commander Talyn.” He then touched his communicator.

  “Security,” a disembodied voice said, “PO Yeltchin speaking.”

  “This is Captain Ulrich in Special Operations. Commander Yang has just this moment retired from active duty and needs an escort out of the HQ complex.”

  “I’ll send someone over right away, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Ulrich cut the comlink and said, “Manfred, it pains me to see things end like this, but it remains better than the alternatives. We will, of course, never speak again. Try to make what you can of the time you’ve purchased with your honesty.”

  Yang dipped his head once, face set in stone again. They waited in silence until a craggy-faced petty officer knocked on the door.

  “Sir, PO Tarkel. I’m here to escort Commander Yang.”

  “I appreciate your promptness.” He turned to his former chief of staff. “Goodbye, Manfred.”

  As Yang stood, Decker gave him a jaunty mock salute, while Talyn merely nodded. Then he was gone.

  “What happens now?” Decker asked.

  Ulrich ignored the Marine.

  “You know what you must do, Hera. Make sure he doesn’t suffer.”

  “Yes, sir.” She, in turn, climbed to her feet and vanished.

  Decker stared at his commanding officer with dismay writ large on his square, honest features.

  “Did you just order Hera to kill him?’

  “Yes.”

  “That means you lied. You promised to let him retire honorably.”

  “Think back to my words, Major. Did I at any time promise to let him live out his days unmolested? No. I pledged to let him retire honorably, which I did.”

  “But you said you didn’t care if he lived to be a hundred and twenty.”

  A cold smile tugged at Ulrich’s lips.

  “Excellent memory, but that throwaway sentence did not offer him long-term survival. I can’t allow Manfred to warn his allies, or seek refuge with them. Nor can I allow him to live while others died due to his treachery. I dare say Manfred knows he won’t see another sunset. He’s carried out his share of post-confession terminations.”

  “Then why did he spill his guts anyway?”

  “Several reasons, most likely. For one, Hera’s threat was real, as she’s no doubt told you by now. Agents who’ve been conditioned against interrogation can still be made to talk if you know how. It’s a rare skill, one we don’t publicize, and it makes the worst torture seem tame. He was also clear-headed enough to understand he had no way out. Thus, for his extended family’s sake, for their honor, an accidental death after retiring with an unblemished record was the only practical alternative. And finally, I dare hope he nurtured some regret at letting himself be roped into Black Sword’s schemes, but we’ll never know.”

  “I see. Remind me to stay on your good side, sir.”

  Ulrich chuckled.

  “Major, if ever you get on my bad side, you won’t live long enough to find out. But I can guarantee a funeral with full military honors. However, I wouldn’t worry. If working here hasn’t corrupted your sense of right and wrong yet, I doubt you’ll ever go so far as to betray your comrades or the Fleet. Or do something else that sullies your personal integrity as a Marine Corps officer.”

  “What happens to Admiral Berglin and the many other traitors polluting the CNI branch?”

  “At this point, I’m not sure. Carrying out wholesale arrests, abductions, or assassinations isn’t an alternative.”

  “So they get away with it.”

  “You really must listen to my words more carefully, Major. I did not intimate there would be no action taken and no consequences for those involved. I merely stated they wouldn’t happen on a wholesale basis. We can’t afford to let the matter become public. Whatever occurs next is in the CNI’s hands.”

  “And what if he’s Black Sword as well?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Decker gave him a skeptical look.

  “How can you be sure of that? Your own chief of staff was screwing us blind for years.”

  “Let’s just say I trust Admiral Kruczek in the same way you trust Hera and leave it at that. If you have no further questions, I suggest you start on your mission report. In the meantime, I’ll put the wheels in motion to rehabilitate Major Redmon and return her to active duty.”

  Fifty

  Two days later, Captain Ulrich ordered every member of the Special Operations Section into the large conference room, which, after so many disappearances, left them with plenty of extra space.

  “Folks,” he let his eyes roam over the assembly, “it’s with a heavy heart that I have to announce Manfred Yang’s premature death from a traffic accident. What makes it so tragic is that hours before, I regretfully accepted his resignation and request to take early retirement. Manfred’s family has asked that we return his ashes to his home planet for a private interment. There will be no memorial service, again at the family’s behest.”

  Listening to Ulrich’s choice of words, Decker wondered how many of the veteran operatives in the room — what few remained — sensed the truth.

  “Manfred’s unplanned departure leaves me without a chief of staff to coordinate our operations, both internally and with our colleagues in other divisions. As I seem to find myself short of field agents as well, I intend to make it a rotational position for now. To that end, select officers between field missions will carry out the functions, starting with Commander Talyn. Her team just returned from one of its longest deployments ever.”

  Decker glanced at his partner, expecting to see dismay hidden behind a carefully composed facade, but he found faint amusement instead.

  “You obviously knew,” he whispered.

  “Obviously.”

  Zack raised his hand.

  “What will I be doing while Commander Talyn is making everyone else’s life miserable, sir?”

  “Whatever she wants you to do, Major. I haven’t dissolved your team. Consider yourself her deputy chief of staff if that pleases both of you. Now, if there are no questions, you may return to your duties. Hera, Major, my office pleas
e.”

  Once they were behind closed doors, Ulrich said, “I’ve briefed the CNI on Black Sword and the traitors in our midst. He agrees that a wholesale purge would not be in anyone’s interests, especially as it will alert Black Sword’s allies outside the Fleet. He has, however, agreed to a less drastic course of action that might give us equally acceptable results.”

  “We give them a stern warning to smarten up?” Decker asked in a facetious tone.

  Ulrich snorted with amusement.

  “That’s quite funny, Major, but not in the way you meant. In your drollery, you almost hit the mark. A few minutes ago, Rear Admiral Berglin received an order from the CNI to report to his office. You two will join her the moment we’re done here, and take her into custody. Then you will bring her to safe house Marguerite. Once there, you will show her Colonel Wynt’s remains, explain what happened, and why. You will answer any questions she has, but ask her none of your own. After that, you will return Berglin to the CNI’s office and release her from custody.”

  “The CNI’s hoping to turn her and possibly other Black Sword members into double agents, right?” Talyn asked.

  “Gratifyingly perceptive of my new, if temporary chief of staff. I trust you’ll agree that it’s a more elegant solution than a bloody purge, no matter how satisfying it might have been. Any comments, problems, or questions? No? Then go put the fear of God into Grace Berglin.”

  As they stood to leave, Ulrich added, “Before I forget, the CNI will raise Major Redmon’s case with Grand Admiral Larsson later today when they discuss this sorry business. He will formally ask Larsson to quash the charges and restore Redmon to active duty. I expect you’ll be able to drag her out of hiding by the end of the week.”

  *

  The Chief of Naval Intelligence, a wizened seventy-year-old vice admiral, waved them into his office and turned to the slender and much younger rear admiral sitting across from him.

  “Grace, these are Commander Talyn and Major Decker, from Konstantin’s section. Commander, you may carry out your orders.”

 

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