by Sam Schall
President Harper had come close to revealing the Midlothian conspiracy to Congress. Never would Ashlyn forget how, just minutes before Harper was scheduled to address Congress, she spoke out against telling them about the Midlothian connection. She, who hated politics and, if she were honest, most politicians, stepped in the middle of the game. She reminded Harper they didn’t have a direct tie between Hughes and the Midlothian government. Intel hadn’t had a chance to go over all the information contained in the Callusian databases. For all they knew, Hughes had been working on his own or for a shadow group of Midlothians. They needed more before they publicly accused an ally of treachery.
Harper hadn’t liked it but when the others present, including his Secretary of State, agreed, he’d agreed. Ash knew it was only a matter of time before he changed his mind. Nor did she blame him. She’d prefer the direct approach as well. Let Midlothian know what they did and force them to either admit their betrayal or to reveal who was behind it.
“General, will you make sure I have access to all of Colonel Ortega’s reports and communications since taking command of the Warlords?” Ashlyn tried to think what else she might need. “In fact, if I could have access to all mission pertinent comms from the Warlords as well as Admiral O’Malley, I’d appreciate it.”
“Consider it done.” Okafor made a quick note. “I will include Hammer’s reports as well as the AARs on the mission that cost him and the others their lives.”
Ash swallowed hard against the anger and sorrow that returned at the mention of her former CO’s death. “Thank you.”
“I know I don’t have to say this to either of you, but we need to keep an open mind about what’s been happening in the Tenasic System. It would be easy to assume this is another instance of betrayal by the Midlothians or, worse, that there are still some of those responsible for betraying you, Ash, still in Fleet. I’ve already contacted Rico Santiago to look into things for us and I’ve briefed SecDef and SecNav. Their orders are simple, Ash. Your Marines and the naval contingent are to do everything you can to reinforce Taskforce Liberator and hold the system until replacement forces arrive or you are to bring home our people.”
“Understood, General.” Ashlyn thought for a moment. “Do you have an idea about which ships will be sent?” That would tell her a great deal about how seriously FleetCom took the current situation Taskforce Liberator faced.
“Nothing has been set in stone yet, but my guess it Admiral Tremayne will send part of First Fleet, possibly supplemented by elements from Second Fleet.”
It made sense. First Fleet was assigned to the home system. By using elements from it, they wouldn’t have to wait for transport to arrive. However, First Fleet had suffered losses of manpower and equipment on the last mission. That was why elements of Second Fleet remained nearby. By using elements from both, home system defenses would not be impacted too heavily.
“You have a great deal to do between now and when you ship out, Colonel.”
Ashlyn sat up a bit straighter at the change in the general’s tone. They were back on the record and she knew it.
“I’ll get it done, Ma’am.”
“I know you will.” She glanced at her chrono. “We’ll meet again at 1700 hours. Will that work for both of you?” She waited until both Elizabeth and Ashlyn nodded. “I want your preliminary departure plans at that time, Ash, as well as the other little assignment I gave you. Until then, you’re dismissed. Liz, we still have a few things to discuss.”
Ashlyn stood and braced to attention. Then she turned and left the office. Before the door closed behind her, her mind was racing as she considered everything that needed to be accomplished before her next meeting with Okafor.
“DAMN IT, I will not let this turn into another Arterus mission!”
Helen Okafor, as well as Secretary of Defense Linden Klingsbury and Secretary of the Navy Norton Hollingsworth watched as President Derek Harper paced the length of his office. Anger radiated off of him. The muscles of his jaw worked, and one hand fisted at his side. Throughout their reports, he had said nothing. But, with each passing moment, his expression grew harder, his eyes flatter. When he learned the requested reinforcements had not been sent, he’d all but exploded out of his chair. Now he wanted answers, answers they couldn’t give him – yet.
“Which is why we’re dispatching forces to reinforce the taskforce as quickly as possible, sir,” Klingsbury said.
“Tell me.” Harper leaned against his desk, his expression not quite as stormy as before.
Klingsbury looked to Hollingsworth and nodded.
“Mr. President, elements from both First and Second Fleets will be leaving the Home System as soon as all personnel report back to their ships and supplies have been loaded. This second taskforce has one mission: to reinforce Taskforce Liberator and hold the system until replacement forces arrive or to bring our people home if the system can’t be held.”
“When?” Harper pressed.
“Realistically?” Hollingsworth asked and Harper nodded. “Two days. Even though Second Fleet is in system, it will take time to move the elements around so we don’t leave the Home System open to attack when the taskforce ships out.”
“We also need to get the Marine contingent and its equipment in place, Mr. President,” Okafor said.
“Who are you sending?”
“The equivalent of two companies of the Devil Dogs, Mr. President, as well as half their LACs. Moving that many Marines and their equipment, especially the LACs and all their maintenance crews need, takes time.”
“Command?”
“Ashlyn Shaw will be leading the Devil Dogs. She’s been breveted to the rank of colonel,” Okafor answered.
Harper nodded. “The taskforce commander?”
“Miranda Tremayne,” Klingsbury said. “With Admiral Collins remaining in-system with Second Fleet, she felt it wouldn’t weaken our defenses for her to lead the taskforce.”
“I want to meet with both she and Colonel Shaw before they ship out.” He closed his eyes for a moment and focused on remaining calm. “Now, why were the requests for reinforcements not fulfilled?”
“We are still looking into it, Mr. President,” Klingsbury said. “Sir, before you ask, there is nothing to indicate this is another betrayal like the one Colonel Shaw and her people suffered on Arterus and after.”
“And the reason they needed the reinforcements?”
“We won’t know for sure until Tremayne and the taskforce get on station, but there is nothing – so far – beyond suspicion that the Midlothians are involved. FleetCom made sure the details of the mission were kept under wraps and there were no Midlothians on any of the ships that comprise Taskforce Liberator.”
“In other words, you’re telling me to keep my temper and hold my tongue.” Harper did not look or sound amused.
“Very respectfully, sir,” Klingsbury said.
“For now, I will. However, if we get any information, I don’t care how minor it might be, as long as it is credible, I will go public with it. I will not let those bastards do any further harm to Fuercon or our real allies.”
“Mr. President, I believe I speak of all of us when I say we’d like nothing more than to deal with not only the Callusians but the traitorous Midlothians as well,” Okafor said, her voice as hard as his had been. “But we must move with caution or we risk our other allies turning against us.”
Harper frowned and then nodded. She was right. That didn’t make it any easier to accept, however.
“Your suggestions?” He returned to his desk and took his seat behind it. Then he waited, appreciating the fact none of them rushed to answer. That meant they were considering their responses and not simply telling him what they thought he wanted to hear.
“Deontay Moore has been working with the Midlothian ambassador and has not only a good working relationship with him but an excellent insight into the man’s mind,” Klingsbury began. “Let me read him into the current situation and set him to sniffin
g out what he can find. Trust me, if he doesn’t want someone to know what he’s thinking, they won’t know it. They won’t even guess it.”
Harper considered the suggestion for a moment and then agreed. “Make sure he understands how important it is the Midlothians not realize we are on to them.”
Or at least some of them, he corrected mentally.
“Understood, Mr. President.”
“What we need to avoid at all costs is a multi-front war,” Hollingsworth said and the others agreed. “We have found no evidence anyone besides the Midlothians have been working with the Callusians. What we don’t know is if our allies have been betrayed by them as we have. I believe it is time to start asking some very carefully phrased questions.”
Harper drew a deep breath and held it. Part of him wanted to agree without hesitation, if for no other reason than to know, once and for all, if they were about to go to war against odds they had no chance of beating. Another part, however, hesitated. All it would take was one slip of the tongue by someone to tip off the Midlothians and, were that to happen, he had no doubt those responsible would go to ground until safe for them to resume hostilities with Fuercon.
“How do you propose we do it?” he asked. He wouldn’t say no outright, not without hearing what Hollingsworth had in mind.
“We don’t go the political route. Let a few trusted Navy and Marine officers and NCOs do it. If there is the least bit of scuttlebutt about Midlothian out there, they can find it.”
“Helen?” He looked at the Marine Corps Commandant and waited as she considered the suggestion.
“It’s a good suggestion, sir. I would add to it that we need to carefully select who we let in on the secret and ask to poke around. But, overall, I like the idea.”
“The pull together a list of who you think we can call on and who they would try to speak with.” He looked at the others, making sure they understood what he was asking. “We’ll meet again in two days to discuss it.” He leaned back and waited until they checked their schedules and nodded in confirmation. “Now, any other suggestions?”
“One.” Now Klingsbury leaned forward, his expression as serious as Harper had seen in a very long time. “As Hollingsworth said, the last thing we can afford is a two front – or more – war. At the same time as we are sounding out our allies about any concerns they have about Midlothian, we start serious discussions about invading Callusian space. A join invasionary fleet meant to end this war once and for all.”
A predatory smile touched Harper’s lips. “Do it. Draw up your preliminary proposal and get it to me ASAP. No word about it goes beyond this room and those absolutely necessary to draw it up. Let’s not tip our hand to the enemy, or to Midlothian, until everything is in place and underway.”
He stood and leaned forward, palms on the desktop, his expression deadly serious. “I want this war ended but I will not sacrifice Fuercon or its allies in the process. One step at a time, starting with getting reinforcements to Taskforce Liberator. I want final plans for that operation on my desk by end of business today.”
The others stood, recognizing the dismissal. Once alone, Harper sat and reached for his comm to signal his admin to send in his next appointment.
4
Midlothian Embassy
New Kilrain, Fuercon
D’ANIL KALMÁR, MIDLOTHIANS’ ambassador to Fuercon, leaned back and blew out a long, worried breath. Six months. That was how long he’d held this assignment. Six months in which he’d quickly learned there was more to what was going on than his superiors were letting him know. Months in which his paranoia had grown to almost uncontrollable levels. After more than three decades in service to his homeworld, he knew a setup when he saw one and he had no doubt he was sitting smack dab in the middle of one. The problem was someone else held the trigger and could pull it at any time, leaving him to take the blame.
“Will you be needing anything else, Ambassador?”
Kalmár glanced up, careful to keep the distrust from felt for the woman standing in front of his desk from showing. Technically, Elwyn Fertig was exactly what she looked like. No one looking at the small, trim brunette would think she was anything more than his administrative assistant, and possible bed partner. He knew better. She had made her role very clear upon his arrival at the embassy that first day. She was Alexander Watchman’s handpicked operative. Midlothian’s Intelligence Czar put her in place not so much to spy on their allies but to make sure no one at the embassy betrayed Midlothian’s best interests as defined by Watchman. Fertig was the man’s blade and Kalmár had no doubt she would gladly slit the throat of anyone her boss pointed her at.
“No, that will be all.” He waited until she left his office before blowing out a long breath. A thing bead of sweat ran down his spine. If she knew what he suspected, his days would be numbered. Fortunately for him, and for his continued survival, he hadn’t lasted as long in politics as he had without learning a few tricks of his own. The first of which was to never, ever let a potential enemy know you had identified them as such.
He hoped it was enough.
Alone, he one again opened the latest report the embassy had received from Fuercon’s Foreign Affairs Advisor. The fact the Callusians taskforce had tried to invade the system was not new. The media had been filled with reports about the attempted invasion for the last few weeks. They had hailed Admiral Tremayne and others, including Colonel Shaw, as heroes. Any opposition to the resumption of the war had been silenced. Funny how the enemy knocking on your own door tended to do that to people.
The report appeared to be straightforward as ever. But Kalmár had the nagging suspicion there was more to what happened than the report said. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. What he didn’t know for sure was what Worse, he feared he could guess. If he was right, it would explain much of what he’d seen and felt over the last few weeks. He closed his eyes for a moment and said a quick prayer he was wrong. He swallowed hard and his sense of unease turned into a stone of fear and suspicion.
Thinking about what the report said – and didn’t say -- Kalmár stood. A moment later, she stared out the window behind his desk. Instead of seeing New Kilrain’s skyline, a sight he usually took pleasure in, he saw distant battlefields strewn with broken bodies. Black armored Marines moved ever forward, pressing their advantage. Unit insignias flashed in the setting sun and he swallowed hard to recognized not only the insignias but the location as well. As he did, he reminded himself it was just his imagination, his own paranoia eating away at him. He needed to get hold of himself before he betrayed his doubts to anyone, especially Fertig.
But, if he was right, the information missing from the Fuerconese report only confirmed his fear there was much more to what happened during the attempted invasion and it was that much more that worried him.
Biting off a curse, he returned to his desk. He closed the report and ejected the ‘chip containing it from his datapad. Then he slipped the chip into his pocket. Out of sight of the monitors he knew Fertig had placed in his office, he carefully slid the chip in the hidden slot in his pocket watch. Fertig had once asked him why he carried the replica of such an ancient timepiece. He’d shrugged it off, explaining it as one of his several odd habits. But the truth was that odd time piece had many times been used to carry data he didn’t want anyone knowing about.
“Ambassador?” Fertig looked up from whatever she had been working on as he stepped into the outer office.
“I’ll be leaving for the day, Elwyn. Please make sure you copy me the latest update of my schedule for tomorrow before you leave.”
She looked at him, her hazel eyes narrowed slightly. Then she smiled and nodded. “Of course, Ambassador. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Other than staying the hell out of my office and my comms?
“No, thank you though.” She might think herself an expert at the game, but he’d been playing it much longer than she had. “Finish up the day’s correspondence and then go home
. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, he left. As he made his way through the embassy and outside, he made sure he did nothing out of the ordinary. He stopped and chatted with several of those he encountered along the way. He nodded to the security guards inside the embassy and paused long enough to thank the military guards at the gate. Then he stepped into his waiting car, giving the driver an address across the capital from the embassy.
“Shall I wait for you, Ambassador?” the driver asked as he parked in front of one of the many non-descript high rises in this part of the city.
“No, Anton. I’ll send for you when I’m ready to leave.”
With that, he climbed out of the aircar. As he made his way to the building’s entrance, he listened as his driver pulled into traffic. A slight smile touched Kalmár’s lips as he pressed his palm to the security plate next to the entrance. The doors swung open and he stepped inside. So far, no one, not even Fertig, had figured out the building was simply a ruse. He let the others think he had a lover, or at least a prostitute he frequented, living there. The reality was much simpler. He paid the management a nice fee to let him use the building as a cover.
A few minutes later he stepped off the service elevator and into the sub-basement. Motion activated lights came on as he moved further away from the closing doors. Some of his tension eased as he quickened his pace. This was always the tricky part – making sure he covered the distance between the building where he’d been dropped off and his next destination before Embassy Security decided to send someone in to check on what he might be doing.