by Sam Schall
“To start, Harper has actually carried through with his campaign promise to disband the Defense Council. He appeared before Congress just a few hours ago and announced that he’s sent notice to the members of the Council, formally notifying them of the council’s dissolution.”
Moreau blinked in surprise. The Defense Council had been created by administrative order more than three decades earlier. During the last war, President Boothe Markham had filled the Council with those he owed political favors to. He’d effectively managed to use the Council to cut Congress out of almost all decision-making when it came to the war, even finding ways to pass on budgetary issues to the Council. That had served him well until FleetCom had changed tactics and started giving nothing more than lip service to the Council. The resulting victories caught the public’s attention and approval. The average citizen was tired of all the years of war and all the atrocities committed by the Callusians. Nothing short of a full surrender by the enemy would satisfy them. Nothing Markham said or did swayed them and it had led to his defeat in the last election.
But for Harper to disband the Security Council so soon after taking office. . . .
“Again, not that surprising. I’ll admit, he did it sooner than I expected but we’ve discussed how it was inevitable, especially considering the platform he ran on.”
“That’s not the worst of it, Evan.”
Now every internal alarm she possessed sounded. Kannady never called her by her given name. Even though they’d known one another for years, it was a line he never crossed, partly because she was an employee – albeit one with very special skills – and partly because he would never see her as his equal. Not that it bothered her. She’d learned very early in her career that it was best not to form attachments with those she worked for. They might be her employer one day and her target the next.
“Tell me.”
“Ashlyn Shaw is back on-planet.”
Moreau’s anger spiked to almost uncontrollable levels. She couldn’t believe it. Of everything he could have said, this had to be the worst. It was certainly the most unexpected. So much effort and so many months of planning, bribing, and blackmail had gone into the effort of making sure Captain Ashlyn Shaw had been taken out of play. Moreau had done everything possible not only to make sure Shaw was convicted but also that those involved in the set-up never suffered an attack of conscience.
Kannady had paid extremely well to insure Shaw had been discredited. What he didn’t know, and never would, was that Moreau would have gladly done the job for free. Shaw had been a thorn in her side for years, an irritant she hadn’t been able to get rid of. Then Kannady had offered her the opportunity to do exactly what she’d spent so many nights dreaming of. It might not have meant the bitch’s death but it had been almost as good. She could still see that haunted, stunned expression on Shaw’s face when the guilty verdict had been read. The only thing that would have made it better was if Shaw had known who’d been behind her downfall.
But now, without warning, that irritant was back and her return could bring an end to it all, including Moreau’s own life. Somehow she had to find a way to insure Shaw never learned the true circumstances behind her court martial. If that meant more lives had to be taken and more bodies made to disappear, fine. That was her job after all.
“How? More importantly, why?” Thank the saints her voice didn’t betray her emotions.
“I don’t know.” There could be no mistaking his anger. Good. She had to keep him focused on that. Maybe then he wouldn’t think too much about her own reaction.
“Then how can you be sure she’s back?”
“Because one of my contacts in the security complex saw her.”
She closed her eyes, thinking hard. If Shaw was back, why hadn’t the media picked up on it? They’d be running the story non-stop, especially if the bitch had been pardoned. So she had to assume that hadn’t happened, not yet at any rate. Not that it made her sudden reappearance any easier to accept.
“Was she in custody?” She had to know everything he did. Then she could plan her next move.
“What?” He looked at her in confusion and then nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yes. My contact said she was chained.”
“Good. That means they don’t know what happened.” She got to her feet and crossed to the bar. It might not be smart, but she needed another drink.
“But why bring her here?”
“She’s still technically a member of the military. It could be that she committed some sort of offense at the penal colony and they brought her here to face additional charges. It could be any number of other reasons, none of which are bad for us.” She poured herself another whiskey and then turned to face her. “But it could also be that Tremayne is holding true to her campaign promise to look into the charges against Shaw and has convinced others in the government to play along. If that’s the case, you could be in for some very bad trouble.”
“I think you mean we could be in for trouble,” he corrected, eyes flashing dangerously.
“Of course.” Let him think that. She had back up plans to her back up plans. If this should suddenly turn bad, she would have a new identity and be off-planet within the hour.
“This is your mess to clean up, Moreau. I don’t care how you do it, just make sure it doesn’t wash back on me.” He stood, all but tossing his now empty snifter onto the table next to the sofa. “I don’t want that bitch saying anything that might cause Harper and his cronies to start sniffing in my direction.”
“How much collateral damage are you willing to accept?”
“I don’t give a damn if the entire capital city goes up in flames as long as it doesn’t harm any of my holdings.”
“Then consider it done.”
“Don’t fuck this up, Moreau.” He jabbed a finger in her direction. “You’re as deep in this shit as am I. Our partners won’t accept anything that might put their plans in danger.”
“And I don’t take kindly to being threatened.”
Even as she pinned him with a firm look, she hoped he didn’t realize just how badly his last comment had shaken her. Those partners he spoke of didn’t accept failure from anyone. She’d known that when she first agreed to deal with Shaw for him. Even then, she’d known better than to get involved but the chance to finally get Shaw out of her life had been too tempting. Damn it, that bitch could still be the end of her.
The end of all of them, unless she figured out how to deal with her once and for all.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Kannady. I’ll make sure she never sees the light of freedom.”
And I’ll be finalizing my own escape plans just in case.
* * *
For the next two days, Ashlyn Shaw ate, slept and exercised. Her routine in the brig was much the same as it had been in her cell at the military prison. There was comfort in routine, something she’d never really understood until her freedom had been ripped from her. But it was also a defense mechanism. No one worried about what she was doing as long as she did nothing out of the ordinary.
Besides, following routine meant she had the freedom to think about what was going on and why.
The only problem with that was she still didn’t know why she’d been brought back to the capital. After the rather disastrous meeting with Tremayne and Collins and then the visit from Major Santiago, she’d seen no one but her guards. While they were a bit more talkative than those at the prison, they were no more likely to answer her questions – were she to ask them.
What troubled her, though, was the concern, possibly even worry, she sensed in them. There was a grimness to them that reminded her all too clearly of how those she’d fought side by side with during the war had felt during those dark days. Were things really as bad as Tremayne had alluded to?
Did she really care?
As she moved from pushups to sit ups, she frowned slightly. One thing the last two days had taught was how much she’d come to rely on the prison’s grapevine. Even w
hen she didn’t see anyone but the guards, word still reached her about how her people and others in the penal colony were doing. She had none of that here. The only thing she knew for sure was that she seemed to be alone in this wing of the brig and that did nothing to reassure her. Why would they have brought her back and yet continue to keep her in isolation?
What still surprised her, what she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around, was the one change she knew had occurred since she’d last been on-planet. When she’d heard the guard addressing Tremayne as “Senator”, she’d been sure she’d misheard or that it had been yet another trick by the commandant of the penal colony to break her. Then, when she’d finally lost control and had rolled off the bunk and confronted the newcomers, she’d been forced to admit it was her former mentor standing before her. Had Tremayne been drummed out of the Service or had she voluntarily left? More important, what did it all mean?
She finished her sit ups and climbed to her feet. Three steps and she stood in front of one wall of her cell. She bent at the waist, placed her palms on the floor and kicked up into a handstand. Slowly, carefully, she bent her elbows, lowered herself toward the floor, her heels lightly scraping the wall as she did. Then she straightened her arms again. Think. She had to think.
She couldn’t forget the worry she’d seen reflected in Tremayne’s eyes, heard in her voice as the senator asked her to just listen to what they had to say. It had been more than worry for her. That had been there, plain to see, when she first faced Tremayne and Collins and they’d seen the effects of the last two years on her. But she knew there was more to their worry and that is why she’d been brought back to the capital. What it was and what it ultimately meant for her and her team was still something she couldn’t guess.
Her team. God, that as her one regret. They’d followed her into Hell and most had paid the ultimate price. The rest might as well have. But she’d avenge their loss and their families’ pain. She didn’t know how, but she would.
Of course, that assumed she ever saw freedom again.
Chapter Three
Miranda Tremayne paced the small conference room like a caged animal. She was furious. She’d been furious for the last two days, ever since her futile meeting with Ashlyn Shaw. She was angry with Shaw for being such a stubborn pain in the ass. She was furious with the military tribunal that had convicted Shaw and the others simply because it had been politically expedient to do so. The evidence, such as it was, had been flimsy to say the least.
No, not evidence, innuendo and the need for a scapegoat because the former Secretary of Defense and his political cronies hadn’t wanted to admit one of their own had not only issued illegal orders but had then covered them up. They’d willingly sacrificed Shaw and so many others in the process, not to mention how they’d betrayed all those still willing to lay their lives down to keep Fuercon and her allies free.
Tremayne’s fury had turned into something she’d barely been able to contain after meeting with Rico Santiago the night before. The major had arrived at her home, exactly as her admin had arranged, his wife on his arm. To anyone who might be watching, they were nothing more than a happily married couple coming to spend an evening with friends. What those potential spying eyes wouldn’t have seen was how Anna Santiago had retired to the game room with Tremayne’s grown daughters while Tremayne and the major disappeared into her study. There they’d stayed until well after midnight, reviewing what they knew about the so-called evidence against Shaw and all that had happened since her court martial.
Tremayne had suspected all along that Sorkowski and O’Brien had not only lied in their reports about what happened that fateful day, but had actually altered Shaw’s original orders and then made sure her protests were “lost”. But to see actual proof of it and then to remember how many people had died, Marines and civilians. . . Damn it, she should have pushed harder to find out what happened the moment she got Shaw’s message and realized just how concerned Shaw had been about that last assignment. By the time she’d learned Shaw and the others were being brought up on charges, the damage had been done and records had been altered.
Damn them!
Now, in the light of day, Tremayne’s fury hadn’t lessened one bit. She felt like she’d failed her protégé and the members of Shaw’s unit who had survived the mission only to be brought up on charges and sent to the military prison. So many had died during that last mission. The survivors had been made into scapegoats just to save a few political and military careers. She’d sworn two years ago that there would be justice for them, just as there would be for Shaw. Now that justice was close to becoming a reality. But it wouldn’t be easy, especially not if Shaw continued to be such a stubborn pain in her ass.
And where the hell was that guard with Shaw?
Before she could reach for her comm-link to demand – yet again – that Shaw be brought to her, the door slid open with a soft whoosh. Tremayne turned. Her expression hardened to see Shaw, shackled and sullen. Her wrists were secured behind her back. The chains about her ankles forced her to take short, shuffling steps. If that weren’t bad enough, the guards escorting her held her firmly by her upper arms, so firmly Tremayne knew they’d leave bruises. It was no wonder Shaw looked sullen.
Well, that was something Tremayne could deal with now.
“Remove the restraints, all of them!” she snapped and was rewarded with the sight of Shaw looking at her in surprise for one quick moment before the younger woman had herself under control again.
Good. Hopefully that meant she was in more of a mood to listen.
“Senator,” one of the guards began.
“I said to remove the restraints,” she repeated firmly. “And then leave us alone.”
“Senator, we can’t!” the second guard protested. “Regulations—“
“Regulations be damned,” she countered. “I suggest you remember that I am not only a senator but I am still an admiral in the fleet, even if retired. That means I outrank you by several orders of magnitude. If that isn’t enough, where do you think Captain Shaw can go? There’s only one entry to the room and you two will be on the other side. As for worry that she might try to harm me, let’s take care of that right here and now.” She turned to Shaw and prayed the young woman understood what she needed to say. “Captain, are you going to try to do anything foolish like attack me the moment the guards leave the room?”
For a moment, Shaw said nothing. Instead, she looked from the guards to Tremayne and back again. Then she shook her head, a slight smile – bitter and bemused at the same time – touched her lips.
“No, ma’am, I won’t try anything. You have my word.”
“There. You have your answer. Now release her and leave us alone.”
“We’ll have to report this to our CO, ma’am,” the first guard said as he removed the cuffs from Shaw’s wrists.
“You do that – from the other side of the door.”
She waited, her expression hard as the guards finished freeing their prisoner. If possible, her expression turned even harder as the second guard leaned in close to Shaw and warned her what would happen she even thought about doing anything to the senator. Instead of reacting, Shaw simply stared through him. Tremayne shook her head, not sure whether to be amused, impressed or worried.
“Ashlyn, please have a seat,” she said as the door slid shut behind the guards.
Instead of waiting to see if she did, Tremayne moved across the room and poured water for both of them from the pitcher sitting on the narrow counter against the far wall. By the time she returned to the table, Shaw had pulled out one of the chairs and was seated, her hands resting on the table. Well, that was one small victory. Now, hopefully, others would come.
“Ash, I know you have no reason to trust me but I’d like you to listen for a few minutes. I’d like to explain why we brought you back here,” Tremayne continued as she sat opposite the younger woman and handed her a cup of water. “And then I’d like you to explain a few
things to me.”
“Permission to speak, ma’am?”
Tremayne closed her eyes and willed herself not to react. Except when they’d been on duty and Shaw had been fresh out of the Academy, they’d never stood on this much formality. Was this another indication about what her life had been like at the penal colony?
“Ash, you never have to ask me for permission to speak,” she answered. “I wish you’d believe me when I say you’re safe now.”
“Ma’am, that may be but it won’t last, not if I have to return to Tarsus.” Shaw reached up and touched the scar marring her left cheek and then the streak of white at that temple. As she did, Tremayne wondered if she even knew she was doing it. “I meant what I said the other day. Unless whatever you want me for includes freeing my people, my answer’s no. I have no other choice. You can ask Major Santiago to confirm it for you if you like.”
Tremayne’s mouth tightened as Shaw confirmed one of her suspicions. She’d been sure Rico Santiago knew more than he’d told her the night before. When she’d tried to press him on it, he’d sidestepped the issue. He’d done his best to convince her she knew everything he did, but she hadn’t believed him. Now, sitting across from Shaw and seeing the determination mixed with fear reflected in her eyes, she realized why. Santiago never said he’d gone to see Shaw after learning she was on-planet. There was no way he wouldn’t have and, judging from what Shaw had just said, he’d not only seen her but she’d given him some sort of explanation for why she refused to cooperate.
He’d better be ready to explain because, if Shaw continued to be obstinate, Tremayne would be paying him a visit very soon.
“Ash, you have to believe me. I haven’t forgotten your people any more than I forgot you.”
* * *
She sat there, watching the admiral – no, the senator, she corrected – weighing what the woman said. She wanted to believe Tremayne. There had been a time when she never would have doubted the woman. But that was before she’d been brought up on charges and found herself, and the surviving members of her command, sent to Tarsus. The last two years had done a lot to destroy her ability to trust anyone.