Crap! He was right again. The Kristang would not leave four Ruhar alive when they recaptured the Glory. They would either kill the Ruhar, or take them prisoner. Chotek had forbidden us to do either, and I didn’t like the idea of killing or kidnapping four hamsters anyway. I was trained by the military, and I abided by a military code of conduct, and I had a military sense of right and wrong. If someone is an enemy of my country, or in this case, an enemy of my species, I could take direct action to neutralize that threat. Meaning, I could kill them in most cases with a clear conscience. My drill instructor in Basic Training told me the job of an army, any army, is to kill the enemy and take territory away from them. If anyone couldn’t stomach that idea, they didn’t belong in the army.
The idea of killing four Ruhar, just to maintain our cover, made me sick. Dr. Rose, with her different set of sensibilities, might consider four Ruhar lives to be reasonable collateral damage in a covert operation. I couldn’t do that, not yet.
In all the hours Dr. Rose and I had spent thinking about how to take the Glory, we had never considered that our boarding party, disguised in Kristang armored suits, needed to behave like Kristang. Real Kristang would never leave four Ruhar alive behind them.
Unless.
Unless the Kristang had a good reason for doing just that.
Great. Now all I needed was to think of a reason why a Kristang boarding party would not kill or capture the four Ruhar crew.
The good news was, I had a couple days to think of a reason for Kristang to behave that way.
All that flashed through my mind in a heartbeat, after my boss asked the question. “Yes,” I replied to Chotek, “we will need to provide a rationale for the Kristang leaving four Ruhar alive and free. We have several possibilities for such a cover plan,” I lied outrageously, “and we wish to refine those possibilities before presenting them to you. Sir, at this point, the sole decision that needs to be made is whether we continue along our present course, or divert to Paradise. If we divert to Paradise, we will have time to refine our plans to capture the Glory, and we can always abort that operation at any time. Diverting to Paradise will not pose any risk to us arriving at the negotiator rendezvous point on time.”
“Colonel, you are asking me for more time to turn in your homework assignment?” Chotek asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m embarrassed to say, but, yes.” Crap. With the homework comment, he made me feel like I was a dumb high school kid again. And knowing Hans Chotek, the diplomat skilled in manipulating people, that is exactly what he intended.
Chotek took a deep breath. “If nothing else, this will be another interesting test of your inventive planning skills. Colonel Bishop, you may divert the ship toward the Paradise system. I do not want us within one lightyear of Paradise, until I have reviewed and approved a plan to capture the Glory. If I do not approve a plan, we let the Glory go on its way, and we proceed to the mock attack with our Q-ship by itself.”
“Understood, Sir.”
Before going back to my office, I stopped by a supply cabinet and requisitioned a particular item, then went to visit Skippy in his escape pod mancave. “Hello, Skippy.”
“Hi, Joe. Hey, what, what is that?”
I pulled a foil package out of a pocket and tore it open; it was something I had gotten from the Supply cargo bay.
“Is that a rubber?” He shouted.
“In your case, Skippy, it’s a CAN-dom,” I said with a grin.
“Oh, very funny, Joe. You’d better not- Hey!” He screamed as I stretched it over his lid. “Get that off of me!”
“You scared people when you faked that air leak in Cargo Bay Six. That was a dick move, Skippy. You were being a dick, and this is what goes on a di-”
“NOT FUNNY!”
I stepped back. His new costume wasn’t as cute as some others, and I only put it in halfway, so the other half with the tip flopped down in front of him. “I don’t know,” I laughed so hard I almost blew a snot bubble on the deck. “It’s funny to me.”
“Ooooh, you better get this off of me RIGHT NOW!”
“If you want to be a dick, this is what you wear.”
“Joe, you get this disgusting thing off me right now or-”
“Or what, Skippy? You can’t move, remember?” My zPhone beeped.
“Uh, hey, Colonel Bishop?” The voice was hesitant, it was one of our US Air Force pilots.
“Yeah?” I was almost choking with laughter.
“Um, this is Lieutenant Reed, I’m in Cargo Bay Two, and, um, one of our nukes just went active? It’s showing a ninety second countdown to detonation. I, uh, I thought you should know, Sir. Uh, hmm, now they’re all active. You didn’t, uh, plan this?” Her voice ended in a squeak.
I pressed the button to mute my phone. “SKIPPY!”
“What?”
“You know damned well ‘what’? Deactivate. The. Nuclear. Warheads.” I could not believe that was something I would ever have to say. Holy shit my life had gotten way off track somehow.
His voice was muffled. “Sorry, Joe, I can’t hear you, I’m wrapped in a can-dom. Major Simms and I have a hot date tonight.”
“Not funny. About the nukes or Simms. Stop it.”
“You stop it. You started it, you big jerk.”
“You started-” I could tell this kindergarten conversation wasn’t going anywhere. “Did you learn your lesson not to be a dick?”
“Fine,” he huffed. “Yes, I learned that you can be a dick, but I’m not allowed to.”
“Close enough.” I pulled the offending item off his shiny beer can. “The nukes?”
“The nukes are sleeping soundly again. I just have to check that their timers are functioning properly every once in a while, Joe.”
“Uh huh. Why do I not believe you?”
“Because you’re still hurt that your parents lied about Santa, so you don’t trust anyone?”
I gasped. “Santa’s not real?”
“Oh, shit,” Skippy groaned. “Did I ruin that for you? I’m sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to- hey, wait! You’re laughing. You jerk! You already knew about Santa!”
“Ya think?”
“Ooooh, that makes me so mad. Who’s the dick now?”
“Can we call it even, Skippy?”
“Sure, why not?” He sighed. “Otherwise, this will go on all day. Damn, I should have suspected something was going on when you pulled a rubber out of the supply cabinet. I was hoping you would make a balloon animal; there is certainly nothing else useful you can do with one of those things.”
“Talk to you later, Skippy.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Colonel?” Sarah asked quietly when we got back to my office. “We have a plan for why the boarding party will not be acting like typical Kristang?”
“Ha!” Skippy’s avatar danced on the table, bent over with laughter. “No way! Joe is a lying dog. He lies like a rug! Joe, when Chocula asked that question, you panicked, right?”
“Absolute panic,” I admitted, giving Sarah a weak smile.
“I knew it! But, Joe, it took you only a moment to recover. You totally pulled that one out of your ass, and you did it in a split second. Oh, ho!” the avatar danced joyously. “Damn! Once in a while, your brain somehow manages to move at lightspeed.”
I appreciated the rare praise. “Thank you, Skip-”
“Why does your brain normally work like a freakin’ glacier, then? A glacier with a busted leg. Moving through quicksand. And dragging a-”
“We get the idea, Skippy.”
“I’m just sayin’, why-”
“We get the idea. Do you have an idea for why a Kristang boarding party would be nice to the Ruhar?”
“Huh? Me? No way, Jose! This is your problem, monkeyboy. This reminds me of that ‘Far Side’ cartoon of the cowboy on a horse, being chased by indians. The cowboy wants the horse to run faster, and the horse says ‘Hey, they’re not chasing me’. Hee hee! Your home planet getting wiped out by pissed off aliens
would be a disaster for you, but only mildly inconvenient for me. Hmm, now that I think about it, that might just possibly be entertaining for me, in a sort of-”
“Skippy! Not funny.”
“Oh, I wasn’t joking. Anywho, I told you the Glory will be all alone and vulnerable. Figuring out how to take that ship is your problem, cowboy.”
“You don’t have any suggestions for us?” I asked with little hope.
“Try holding your breath, Joe? If you’re not breathing, you can use both of your brain cells to think with.”
Sarah burst out laughing, waving a hand at me to apologize.
And my day just kept getting better and better.
Since neither Sarah nor I could think of why a group of Kristang would not act like murderous hateful MFers, we split up to think about it. She went back to the science lab, even though things there were awkward now that everyone knew she was a CIA officer. I went to the galley to get a cup of coffee, more to burn time that for any other reason. Also, I needed a change of scenery; my cramped little office was not inspiring me to think up a brilliant idea.
Of course, I got there as Margaret Adams was emptying the last dregs of the coffee pot into her mug. “They’re making more, Sir,” she nodded toward the British team that was in charge of staffing the galley that day.
“Don’t the British drink tea?”
“They drink coffee also,” she replied with an amused smile. Staff Sergeant Adams often had an amused smile when talking with me, like I was still a dumb recruit and she needed to make sure I didn’t blow my foot off with a rifle.
“You like our new coffee mugs?” I held up my mug, which had the pirate-monkey-on-a-flying-banana logo that was now the official symbol for the Flying Dutchman.
“Yes, they’re nice,” she had a twinkle in her eyes, remembering my original crude sketch for the logo. “That reminds me, Sir, we talked about an official motto for the Merry Band of Pirates, but we never did anything about it.”
“A motto?” Somehow, I did not picture Adams as someone who cared about mottos, or mission statements or anything like that.
“Every unit has a motto,” she replied with a shrug.
Skippy’s voice came from the zPhone on my belt. “Clearly the motto of the Merry Band of Pirates should be ‘Trust the Awesomeness’.”
“Uh, no. I like ‘Climb to Glory’,” I suggested.
Adams gave me a look that my mother used to give me. “That is the motto of the Army 10th Infantry Division. You shouldn’t favor your old unit, Sir.”
“Uh, you’re probably right,” I admitted, stung.
“How about ‘Striving for Competence’?” Skippy suggested.
“No.”
Skippy sighed. “You’re right, Joe, nobody would believe that this outfit would even dream of competence. Maybe something like ‘Less fun than a barrel of monkeys’?”
“No.”
“Uh, ‘I made potty all by myself’?”
“NO!”
“Or ‘I’m not wearing any pants’?”
“Oh boy.” It went downhill from there. And that is how we ended up with ‘Trust the Awesomeness’ as our unit motto.
When Adams finished laughing and was able to speak again, she poured coffee into my mug and changed the subject. “I heard we have a plan to capture this Kristang frigate, the Glory, but there is some problem? Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, I-” Why not ask her advice? I lowered my voice and gestured her over to an empty table. “Our resident spy and I have been trying to think of a reason why a group of Kristang would not act like typical Kristang.”
“How’s that?”
“If we send a boarding party over to seize the Glory, Chotek insists we not harm the Ruhar crew, and we can’t kidnap them either,” I explained. “I agree with him, but it makes the operation impossible. Any real Kristang boarding party would kill the Ruhar, or take them prisoner. That’s why I say we need a reason why Kristang would not act like Kristang.”
Adams gave me another one of those infuriating smiles, and sipped her coffee. “You’re asking the wrong question.”
“I am?” Damn it, the question of why our boarding party could not act like Kristang has been Chotek’s idea, but I had bought into it.
“Sir, the question is not why a group of Kristang would not act like Kristang. The correct question is, why would they act the way you need the boarding party to act?”
“Uh,” that sounded like the exact same thing to me.
“A Kristang warship was captured by the enemy, and a group of Kristang are taking it back. The boarding party leaves the Ruhar crew behind, as witnesses, right?”
“Right.” Witnesses. The Kristang boarding party would leave the Ruhar behind as witnesses. “Right!” I got it. “The Kristang who take back the Glory are not the same group of knuckleheads who lost the ship to the enemy.”
“No, they are not,” Adams seemed pleased that I had caught onto her idea, like I was puppy who learned a new trick. “The boarding party is a group of Kristang who want to humiliate the punk-ass Swift Arrow clan who let the ship be captured by the enemy. They want the Ruhar crew to report who took the ship back, so everyone knows.”
“Brilliant! All we need is for the boarding party to wear insignia of a clan that is a rival to the Swift Arrows. Skippy?”
“I have been listening,” his voice came from the zPhone on my belt. “Sergeant Adams, that was very good thinking, I applaud you. Joe, how long did you wrack your brain about this problem, without any result? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Oh, shut up,” I was feeling humiliated in front of Adams. “Ok, if you’re so freakin’ smart, which clan should the boarding party pretend to be? Which clan is the biggest rival of the Swift Arrows?”
“That would be the Great Claw clan.”
“Great, then-”
“Ah! You didn’t let me finish, Joe. The Great Claws and the Swift Arrows hate each other with a passion that is intense even for Kristang. However, the Paradise system is far from Great Claw territory; it is rather unlikely the Great Claws would or could go all the way there just to pick up a beat-up old frigate. My suggestion is the boarding party pretend to be members of the Razor Tail clan. The Razor Tails are a very ambitious minor clan, that has recently been quite reckless in order to position themselves to benefit from a potential civil war.”
“Razor Tails, huh? Ok, sounds good. And you know what their clan insignia looks like?”
“Joe, please, you insult me. I am already fabricating Razor Tail insignias for our suits.”
“Problem solved, then,” I said happily.
“You’re going to tell Mr. Chotek now?” Adams gulped the last of her coffee.
Crap. “Uh, Sergeant, it would be best if you kept quiet about this. I, uh, I sort of told Chotek that I already had a plan.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she said with a wink.
“Thank you. Um, this is all great, except the Razor Tails will know they did not, in fact, recapture the Glory. And they sure won’t be bringing that ship back as a trophy.”
Adams tilted her head. “Why is that a problem? No way would the Razor Tails miss the opportunity to take credit for it anyway. With the Glory being in bad condition, it won’t be surprising if it disappears along the way.”
I explained our brilliant plan to Hans Chotek. A Kristang frigate would be hanging in empty space, all by itself, with only a skeleton crew of four Ruhar. It was a prize easily taken, and we had a solid plan to minimize the risk.
Chotek still didn’t like it. “Colonel, I commend you and your team for developing a plan to minimize the risk. There is still risk, and I am uncomfortable with that.”
Dammit. Chotek was ate up with following the letter of UNEF Command’s orders. “Sir, risk is a relative term. If this mission fails, there is a hundred percent certainty that we lose Earth. Any risk below a hundred percent is worth it. And this plan,” I tapped the display, “carries a low
level of risk with it.”
“We have our Q-ship, we can proceed with the mock attack.”
“Skippy had analyzed Ruhar psychology, and he strongly believes that a mock attack by a single armed merchant ship would not be perceived as a credible threat, Sir. We need a second ship, preferably a warship. A small, older warship that a clan would consider expendable. The Glory is perfect for this purpose.”
He was still hesitant. He picked up his tablet and examined the details of the plan again.
I pressed him to make a decision. “We can abort the plan at any point, up until the boarding party’s dropship enters their docking bay. Even at that point, the Flying Dutchman can jump away to safety if anything goes wrong.”
He didn’t reply immediately, and I knew to keep my mouth shut and wait. Hans Chotek needed to reach the decision on his own; if I tried to sell him on the idea, he would reject it.
He tapped the screen of his tablet. “The four Ruhar crew will not be harmed?”
Crap. I couldn’t openly lie to his face about the subject. “If they start shooting, I can’t guarantee no one will be harmed, Sir. Before we board the Glory, we will announce our intentions, and explain that all we want is the ship. That we want the Ruhar to survive. If there is any fighting, that is on the Ruhar. If the Ruhar do start shooting, my orders to the boarding team are to retreat and try negotiating again. Frankly, I think it is about fifty-fifty that one of the Ruhar gets an itchy trigger finger; that does happen in tense situations. The Ruhar know they ordinarily have no reason to trust the Kristang. My hope is the Ruhar will be persuaded by the fact that our boarding party does everything that can not to start a fight.”
His expression was still maddeningly unreadable. I suppose masking his emotions was part of his diplomatic training. Skippy probably could monitor Chocula’s pulse, blood pressure, skin temperature, brain waves and whatever else might provide a clue to what our official mission commander was thinking and feeling. I had no idea. The silence made me uncomfortable. This was the best plan we had been able to dream up and it was a damned good plan, an excellent plan. An imaginative plan. We had addressed every roadblock Chotek threw in our path, and still he hesitated. “Sir,” I shifted uncomfortable in my chair. “This is a lot to think about, it’s a big responsibility. We won’t need a decision for another six hours; after that the schedules of the wormholes we have to go through make it difficult for us to keep on schedule. I’ll be in the training bay, watching Major Smythe’s teams practice the boarding operation.”
Black Ops (Expeditionary Force Book 4) Page 24