Special Forces 01

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Special Forces 01 Page 6

by Honor Raconteur


  Sara had a hand clamped over her mouth, but her eyes were twinkling with merriment, glad to see the new brothers getting along so well. “I’m beginning to understand the gravity of the offense. Well. You’ll have to extract your well-deserved revenge elsewhere, Arystair. I need to get supper started, or we are all going to starve.”

  “Roger that.” Rys casually slung the boy over his shoulder, upside down, carting his victim out of the kitchen.

  ***

  Anne Dorian was having a really a rough morning.

  She’d spent her entire break getting the necessary books from the library for her English paper, and didn’t have the time to swing by and deposit them in her locker. Her lack of foresight and planning meant she’d been forced to haul them around for nearly two hours. Annoying didn’t begin to cover her extra burden. Maybe if she didn’t keep dropping one or more of them, she wouldn’t have minded as much.

  Just trying to keep them all balanced was impossible. Right when she thought she had finally come up with the magic combination, one would squirt out from under her arms, hitting the floor again.

  I need an hour in an empty room for some primordial scream therapy!

  Biology ended, finally, and the lunch break started, which meant she had to finesse her way through the crowded hallways and somehow avoid dropping any more books. If one got loose out there, it could be kicked from one end of the hall to the other like a hockey puck. This was not going to be a picnic. Maybe if she ran a few of her excess books to her locker...no that would just make her late.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  Anne half-turned her head to see a tall, well-built redhead standing next to her. She recognized him as the new kid in school, and had heard conflicting stories buzzing about him. Reportedly, he was a foster child, living with the Bloch family. Some people said he was very polite—others swore he was a troublemaker. Whatever he is, he sure is nice eye candy. Yum! Yum! Wait, what did he just call me? “Did you just say ‘miss?’ ” she asked in open amazement.

  He paused, uncertainty crowding his features. “I’m sorry, isn’t that the correct mode to address you?”

  I think the people who said he is polite were right on the money. “Probably not among teenagers, no. My name is Anne; ‘miss’ would blow right by me!”

  He nodded in understanding. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anne. My name is Arystair. Would you like some help with all of those books? They seem to winning the battle to end up on the floor.”

  Not only was he polite, but he was volunteering to help her. Wow. So it wasn’t a myth? Gentlemen really did still exist in the world? “I would really appreciate some help,” she answered gratefully. “My locker isn’t far from here. If you wouldn’t mind carrying them that far for me, I would be forever grateful.”

  “Of course, ma’am, that’s no problem.”

  He honestly hadn’t just followed up the “miss” with “ma’am,” had he? She watched in amazement as he easily gathered up all of her books, on the first attempt, without dropping one of them. He just stood there with them tucked under his arm, where they stayed like obedient dogs, and waited for her to lead the way to her locker.

  Finally realizing that he was waiting on her, Anne snapped out of it, grabbed her backpack and led him out of the classroom.

  He navigated the obstacle course all the way to her locker, without dropping a single book or getting run over. She would have bet even money this morning that was an impossible feat. She closed her locker with a satisfied click and smiled up at him. “Thank you so much, Arystair.”

  “You’re welcome, ma’am.”

  She held up an admonishing finger. “Don’t ma’am me either.”

  He looked briefly frustrated and confused. “Then how do you address people your own age here?”

  Okay, that settles it. There’s no way he’s from Bijordan. For one thing, his accent is slightly different. It sounds…softer, somehow, and more clipped. This good looking guy was a very interesting puzzle, and Anne could never resist the challenge of a good puzzle. Or a great piece of eye candy, for that matter. “Tell you what, Arystair. Let’s go get some lunch, and I’ll try to explain the nuances of addressing teenagers.”

  You’d think she’d just tossed a lifeline to a drowning man. “Would you? I feel like I’m navigating deep space with a half-charted map.”

  Why did that metaphor sound comfortable coming out of his mouth? “Sure, it’s no problem. But we better hurry before all the good stuff is gone.”

  To Anne’s complete astonishment, he actually bought her lunch, as well as insisting on carrying her backpack in the bargain. He said it might be too heavy for her to manage along with her lunch tray.

  Anne had no idea which heaven this angel dropped out of, but she was absolutely not complaining.

  Okay, all of those people that said this guy was a dangerous troublemaker obviously have no clue what they are talking about, or they were bald faced liars. I’ve never met a bigger teddy bear in my life. She eyed him sideways as they settled outside, under a huge shade tree. She could tell just by the way that he was interacting with her that he had no idea who she really was.

  Perhaps she should introduce herself, but decided against it just yet. She needed to observe him more closely and ask a few questions before she let herself hope for anything as unexpected and rare as this guy. “So, Arystair, where are you from?”

  “Fourth Colony.”

  Oh boy. Those two words just explained a great deal. Anne had heard a lot about Fourth Colony from her father over the past few years. From everything she had learned this poor guy must be in the middle of a major culture shock. “Ah. I’m beginning to see the problem. We do things very differently than you’re used to, I’m sure.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know!”

  She smiled back without exactly meaning to. “Now, getting back to that original question you asked me, we don’t use polite terms when addressing people our own age. Not unless we’re mad at them, or we’re joking around. Hey You, works pretty good to get someone’s attention. If you’re too polite to say that, just say Excuse Me.”

  If she hadn’t known better, she could swear that he was memorizing every word she was saying. “I see.” He frowned slightly, thinking. “I’ve been told several times by people to not use ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am.’ Is that a general rule, or can I only dismiss such formalities when invited to do so?”

  Anne spent the remainder of her lunch break explaining etiquette. Oddly enough, she thoroughly enjoyed their conversation. Arystair was one of those people that absorbed everything you told him — she never had to repeat herself, and he never forgot what she said. It was both flattering and at the same time nerve wracking. She found herself being more careful and precise with her words than normal, not wanting him to quote her saying something ridiculous.

  By the end of lunch, Anne had come to two conclusions. One, this was the kind of guy that would make a really good friend; and two, he was definitely going to be her friend, if she had anything at all to say about it.

  Chapter Five

  Rys well understood that using any military base as a meeting place would destroy the cover of “sabbatical high school student” that all of SF01 was currently maintaining. Obviously, meeting in a base’s conference room was out of the question. Of course, that brought about the question of what would be the best place to meet? Everyone had debated this for a long while, throwing out different ideas, but finally a general consensus was reached that any veteran’s home would be secure enough, if the appropriate measures were taken.

  They’d asked a few discreet questions, hacked a few files, and discovered that there were three homes that had the necessary clearance to be around a mission this highly classified. One of them happened to be the Dawlish’s — Gremlin’s foster parents.

  When Rys arrived that evening, he discovered that finding a place to park in front of the modest two-story house had bec
ome a challenge because of everyone else’s arrival. Frowning, he checked the clock — no, he’d arrived ten minutes early, like usual. Yet there were seven cars already in the driveway and two parked half on the street. Had he missed something…?

  A little concerned, he got out of the van and headed for the front door, eyes automatically sorting through the various vehicles around him. Five he recognized as belonging to the various computer experts in SF01 and the Dawlishs’. Two of them had government plates, meaning that someone had decided to join their little information party.

  They’d been exchanging information with each other for the past two weeks. Rys knew that some of the emails had been cced to Bijordan Intel as well. Maybe… Shaking his head in bemusement, he raised a hand and knocked on the door.

  Katherine Dawlish, Bijordan Naval Captain, Retired, promptly opened the door and smiled at him in welcome. “Come in, Captain Savar.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” He gave her a covert scan as he stepped inside the house. Every dark hair on her head was perfectly in place, shirt and pants crisply pressed, and the fine wrinkles on her face framed a happy smile. Well, she didn’t look like anything upsetting had happened. Taking that for a good sign, he continued, “We’re very grateful you let us commandeer the premises for the evening.”

  She gave him a casual salute and a wink. “My pleasure. It feels like the old days, actually. Now, everyone decided to use the den. It’s this way.”

  Rys followed her down the hallway and to a back corner of the house. He caught glimpses of different rooms as he walked. Everything was pristine and in immaculate order. The furniture looked a little worn-in and outdated, but he didn’t see anything in a state of disrepair. He doubted anyone could beg a speck of dust to settle in this woman’s house, either.

  Captain Dawlish gave him a quick smile as she reached for the door handle and warned him cheerfully, “Brace yourself!”

  Rys shot her a look of alarm. Brace himself for what?

  Then she opened the door and he knew.

  Six different folding tables had been set up like a rough and ready command center. On it there were laptops, printers, what looked to be a miniature satellite dish and far too many cables running in every possible direction. Seven computer geeks sat in front of their respective computers, talking over each other in a computer code that Rys couldn’t even begin to follow, their fingers flying over the keyboards.

  It put him eerily in mind of a bad science fiction movie. The part right before aliens invaded or something blew up.

  Not sure if he wanted to walk into a place where angels feared to tread, Rys hovered in the doorway. He sensibly chose not to try and talk over the crowd but opened a mental line and pinged Gremlin.

  Gremlin?

  It took a second before he answered, and his dark eyes never left the computer screen. In fact, he kept his position perfectly. Gremlin’s dark hair was more tossled than usual, his trim frame tucked into itself in the chair, his usual posture while hacking. How long had he been sitting there? “Yes, sir?”

  Ah…where did the Bijordan Intel people come from?

  “Oh, I called them in, sir. I thought they needed some practical hands-on with the finer points of hacking.”

  Well, if anyone could teach them, it would be Gremlin. I see. Are you hacking?

  “Yes, sir.”

  I thought this was supposed to be an intelligence swap and meet?

  “It started out that way, sir. Then Boyce noticed something odd about the Novan’s network system, and we went in to do a more thorough check, and…”

  Things grew from there, I understand. Rys just shook his head in resignation. This was not the first time something like this had happened. Gremlin had never quite broken the habit of investigating first and then updating his superiors later. So what have you turned up?

  “Quite a bit, sir. I think I know what’s going on, but Captain, if you’ll just give me thirty minutes I think I can give a much more thorough briefing. Right now I’ve just got a working theory and only a little data to back it up.”

  Rys vastly preferred that over no working theory and a lot of data to shift through. Still, he could wait thirty minutes for a more accurate picture. Especially since most of SF01 had yet to arrive. Why don’t I order dinner for everyone and you can update me when it arrives?

  “Sounds like a good plan to me, sir.”

  Rys took another look at the people around the room that hadn’t even turned to look in his direction. He doubted they’d even noticed the door had opened. Maybe he should step inside and have a quick word with the Bijordan Intel people…no, on second thought, he’d wait for Gremlin’s briefing.

  He stepped back out and softly closed the door behind him.

  “I see your survival instincts are well honed, Captain,” Captain Dawlish observed with a quirky smile crinkling the corners of her dark eyes.

  He responded, “I know better than to try and interrupt a computer geek when he’s fixated on something. At least, not without some kind of peace offering in hand.”

  She softly chuckled, waving him to follow her back toward the main part of the office.

  “I don’t suppose I could borrow your phone?” he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

  “Certainly, but why?”

  “I need to order a peace offering.”

  ***

  Everything seemed to arrive at about the same time. The rest of 01 came in small groups, and took a few minutes to exchange news about how their “civilian” lives were going. Rys, knowing full well how much they could all eat, ordered two dozen pizzas and the pizza delivery man was greeted with much cheer and back slapping. Rys took one box with him back to Geek Central and used it to lure the working men out of the room and back to the rest of the world.

  There not being any room in the house that could really sit all twenty-two of them, they retreated to the back deck and found any available corner or vacant space to sit and eat.

  Steve wound up sitting next to him. After consuming three slices, he leaned in and murmured, “So why do we have two Bijordan Intel officers here?”

  “Gremlin invited them. He said they needed some pointers.”

  “Ah.”

  The evening air was slightly cool and pleasant. Rys felt himself go a little lethargic because of the peaceful scenery around him and the nice, warming sensation of having his stomach full. He made himself stop after six slices, afraid that one more would send him into a drowsy state.

  When the last pizza box had been emptied, the relaxed ambience of the group fell away and they unanimously got down to business.

  Rys, as the most senior Captain in the group, took lead. “Alright, Gremlin. You said that you found something interesting.”

  “Boyce found something interesting,” Gremlin corrected with a quick thumbs up at his fellow geek. Boyce flashed him an acknowledging smile in response. “We’ve just been verifying it for the past few hours. Sir, this is far from conclusive, and I’d like to look at about a hundred more systems before we jump to conclusions, but it looks like there’s a piggy-back system on all of the Novans network systems.”

  Rys frowned. He didn’t like the sound of this. “And what does this piggy-back system do?”

  “It seems to have a two-part function.” Gremlin’s voice was painfully neutral as he spoke, his eyes tight. “Part one is that it taps into any network or device within range and makes a copy of it.”

  As the words penetrated, Rys felt his blood just drain from his face and his stomach gave an uneasy lurch. “How sophisticated is this system?”

  One of the Bijordan Intel officers responded grimly, “It can penetrate most firewalls, sir. Only the top two classified systems in the government could withstand its attack.”

  Rys felt like swearing. Not the answer he’d hoped for.

  “What’s part two, Bran?” Miles asked in a deceptively calm voice. “You said this thing was dual purpose.”

  “Part two is actually what w
orries me the most,” Gremlin admitted with a quick glance around the group. “The second function is to do an in-depth scan of the infrastructure.”

  A cold, heavy silence descended like a lead weight. No one had to voice the obvious: the only reason why someone would need a detailed blueprint of a planet’s infrastructure was if they were planning to either a) conquer it, or b) blow it up. It could possibly be a mix of both.

  Duane was the one to break the silence and ask the next obvious question. “Which Novans are carrying this thing around?”

  “That’s the part that we’d like to confirm by hacking another hundred systems.” Gremlin spread out his hands in a slight shrug. “From what we can tell right now, every Novan does. From merchants to tourists and everything in between.”

  Rys blew out a breath as he asked the next hard question. “Do they know? Are these operatives undercover?”

  “Another question I can’t answer until we can hack more systems. My gut feeling is…at least some of them are just innocent dupes.”

  Well, at least they had some notion of what Nova was up to. Now if they could only figure out what use all of this information would be put to. “Gremlin, I don’t have to order you to re-start your hacking party, do I?”

  Gremlin grinned at him like he’d just been handed tacit permission to do something naughty. “No, sir!”

  “While you hack, we’re going to figure out just how much information they’ve already got and how much they can get before we jam their systems.” Rys would also have to figure out how to condense all of this into a report that he could forward on. “Before you dig back in, give me a better idea of how much intel we have. How many systems did you hack?”

  “Well, I hacked four systems…” Gremlin turned in his seat to give the rest of his hacking companions a quick look. “Boyce did three that I know of, right? So that’s seven, and you did two, and you did two, and you had that merchie vessel that was such a pain in the arse, and you were trying to crack the Embassy—”

  The Bijordan Intel officer winced. “Never got in, either.”

 

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