With the bandages in place, he couldn’t know that the mutilation had been staged. He would never learn that Sid’s “crazy” accomplice was his DSA partner, Jack, who had dressed for the part. During Sheldon’s toe removal, Jack had created a realistic noise by pressing the spinning blade of the cutting tool against a piece of leather he had placed at the base of the chair. At the moment he’d started cutting the leather, he’d taken a sterile pin in his other hand and pushed it into the skin of Sheldon’s second toe. The throbbing ache Sheldon felt had been from a spring clip with a stiff coil Jack had used to pinch the same toe. Once the toe “removal” was complete, the two agents had tricked him into thinking he was seeing his own appendage by showing him a piece of candy covered in red syrup.
But to Sheldon, it was all savagely real. His umbrage rose and then deflated. Part of his brain suggested reasons and rationalizations for his past actions, but he didn’t believe them himself. This woman, Bonnie, was right. He’d been expecting a knock on the door, either from the Kardish or the Union, for many years. Like a man on the run who had gotten caught, he could finally rest. His nightmare was over.
He brought his attention back to her instructions.
Bonnie was no longer playing the role of the good cop. “You must decide right now and at this moment. You may choose to be imprisoned in a dark hole. A hole buried so deep you’ll never see sunlight or another person. Wait, that’s wrong. You’ll see interrogators every day. And they’ll treat you the same as you were this morning. Did you know that they can cut off a piece of you every day, a painful bloody piece, and continue doing it for years? Literally, Dr. Sheldon, for years. And you won’t wake up all bandaged when it’s over. No, you’ll sit there and suffer until the next day, when it’ll start all over. Every day. For years and years and years.”
“Stop! I’ll cooperate. Please stop.”
Bonnie changed modes. “Here it is, Dr. Sheldon. Tell me when you don’t understand. You will live your private and professional life like nothing has changed. You will not alter your routine or relationships in any way. You will confirm to your public and confidential contacts that the crystal is on schedule for delivery to the Alliance. We will be watching you always to make sure you act as instructed.”
“You mean you’re going forward with it?” He was incredulous. “After what I just told you, you’re actually putting the crystal on the Fleet ship?”
Chapter 11
Sid sat with Cheryl in a room a few floors down from where they’d been interrogating Sheldon. He watched her as he summarized what they had learned and realized he was glad she hadn’t been present to see the questioning. Portions of his tradecraft weren’t pretty, and he wanted her to view him in a positive light.
“Sheldon confirmed that the Kardish have a quarter million three-gens in their inventory,” he said. “He believes they’re all up on the ship. For the past couple of years, they’ve been leaning on him to make more. He seems confident they’ll be using these crystals for whatever their master plan is. He doesn’t seem to know what that plan is, though.”
“And what about Criss?” she asked. “Is it one and done? If they get him, will they leave?”
“Sheldon says that they’re deadly serious—his words—about getting Criss. But I don’t know if he even knows what that means. He talked about them blowing up the world if they don’t get their way, but my sense is that he was trying to build drama. And he seems to have no idea when they’ll leave.”
Sid put his feet up on the chair next to his and leaned back. It was becoming a long day. Cheryl got a message and moved to the back of the room to chat quietly. He started to get up and give her privacy, but she waved him back to his seat. It sounded like she needed to make some decisions about her ship and didn’t care that he heard.
He watched her as she concentrated on her work. He could not imagine a more beautiful woman. We were great together, he thought. He became momentarily ticked off at life for forcing him have to choose between her and duty.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she returned to her seat.
He watched her get settled in, her legs draped over the armrest, and had a thought. “Suppose the Kardish are using us to produce crystals for them. We’ve done that, so our relationship seems primed to move into its next phase. It would be really confusing if they kept orbiting and collected a pile of four-gens as that production gears up. What would be the point of it all?”
“And why aren’t they producing crystals themselves?” Cheryl asked. “Their technology is clearly superior to ours. What’s that all about?”
* * *
Cheryl looked up when Jack popped his head in the door and announced, “It’s time for a nice cool beer or three. Come on. I’m buying.” He started down the hall without checking to see if they were keeping up. “The first round, anyway.”
She and Sid exchanged a glance and then followed Jack. He led them a few blocks away to a funky pub where they crowded into a small booth. Jack sat on one side, and Cheryl squeezed in tight next to Sid on the other. Her leg pressed against his, and the physical connection was electric. She was having trouble concentrating and wondered if Sid even noticed.
Sid and Jack had a brief debate about bottles versus pitchers while Jack activated a newly installed security feature on his com. Given the recent developments, the DSA had provided them a modification to block incoming and outgoing signals in their immediate vicinity. As long as they remained alert for direct human observers and kept the conversation sufficiently vague, they would have privacy to discuss operational issues.
“A huge team is now putting Victoria Wellstone under a microscope,” said Jack. “She’s being watched around the clock, teams are visiting everywhere she’s been, we’re digging through her records, and every poor bastard she’s ever even talked to is getting the treatment.”
Their pitcher of beer arrived. Apparently, observed Cheryl, fresh draft carried the day. Jack poured for everyone, downed half his glass, and belched.
He smiled at his sophisticated contribution and continued. “Victoria has developed a convolution of corporations that own companies that own subsidiaries that own divisions. It goes in circles, and it’s quite effective at hiding her activities. Crystal Fabrications sells a lot of crystals in small, legitimate transactions. It turns out that many of the purchasers are part of her network. These outfits then centralize the purchases and transfer them in bulk to the Kardish vessel.”
Cheryl lifted her beer and stopped before taking a draw. “How does a race show up on an alien planet, integrate into society, and start a sophisticated scam in only a few months?”
Sid expanded on the thought. “If they look and talk and act like us, maybe the Kardish have been here for hundreds of years, and we never knew it.”
As exhaustion and the amber brew relaxed them, the three strayed from shop talk. Jack regaled Cheryl with story after story of adventures he and Sid had experienced together. Their wild exploits amused her, and even correcting for embellishment, she was amazed at the places they’d been, the chances they’d taken, and the impact they’d made.
As she listened, two things fascinated her the most. The first was personal. It appeared to her that Jack’s stories were supportive of Sid. Sid was sophisticated. Sid was calm and cool. Sid led the way. Sid saved the day. She wondered what Jack knew about their previous relationship and if he was somehow trying to repair past damage.
The second was professional. She noticed that once a minute, Jack scanned the room. He never stopped talking or laughing or being a part of the group. But it seemed as if he were tracking everyone in the pub, mentally recording their location and what they were doing. She watched him do this over and over, and then became curious if Sid did it as well.
She shifted her position in the booth so she could see Sid more directly. Given the tight seating, her movement caused her leg to push even harder against his. He turned to look at her and saw her looking at him. He smiled and patted her knee. Wrong message, s
he thought. I wasn’t playing footsies.
Story time continued with Jack relating yet another fantastic tale. And then she saw Sid scan the room. He did it just like Jack, only shifted by half a minute. He had Jack’s back and Jack had his. They were partners.
She was happy for Sid that he had found his place in life, though she couldn’t deny the emotional tug-of-war that battled in her head and heart that it didn’t include her. Yet at this time and in this situation, she chose to enjoy the moment.
They were most of the way through their last beer when Sid said, “We need to have a heart-to-heart with Criss. It’s time we moved the dial up a few notches.”
“Stand back,” Jack winked at Cheryl. “He’s entering improviser mode and has a plan coming together.” Looking at Sid, he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“Remember Madrid?” asked Sid.
“Which time?” responded Jack, grinning from ear to ear.
“C’mon, pal.” Sid grinned too. “An irresistible force meets an immovable object?”
Jack clapped his hands. “Oh yeah, stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
They both cracked up laughing, seemingly convinced they were a comedy team who’d just created a detailed strategic plan to address a world crisis.
Cheryl looked back and forth from one to the other, laughing too, though she wasn’t sure why. “Is this a puzzle I can figure out, or is this one of those ‘you had to be there’ things?” She sipped her beer. “Hmm. Wait.” She paused as her thoughts gelled. “An irresistible force meets an immovable object. You’re talking about Criss and the Kardish.”
Sid pointed at her. “The captain scores.”
She looked off into the distance with unfocused eyes, still thinking. “He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. You’re going to stick Criss in the middle of us versus them.”
“Ding,” said Jack, ringing an imaginary bell to show she was correct.
She drained her beer and let out a small belch. “But how do we know what he’ll do? What would motivate him to choose us over them?”
Sid and Jack raised their glasses and said in unison, “Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.” They downed the last of their beers in celebration of the moment, and seemed to drift momentarily away. She wondered if they were thinking about their crazy time in Madrid.
* * *
“Okay,” Sid admitted as they were gathering their things to leave. “The plan needs more detail, but the basic parameters seem fixed. We have us, we have them, and we have Criss as the lever in between.” He stepped back so Cheryl could crawl out of the booth. “We’ll be at Crystal Fab tomorrow and can brainstorm ideas with Juice and Criss.”
They made their way outside the pub and started up the walkway. Cheryl and Sid were side by side, with Jack following close behind. Without consciously thinking it through, Sid moved to put his arm around Cheryl.
As he lifted his arm, Jack roared at the top of his lungs. “Sid! At your nine!”
The volume and urgency in Jack’s voice drove Sid to act. He grabbed Cheryl by the shoulders, yanked her forward, and used his leg to sweep hers out from under her. His actions caused her to plummet to the ground, and he fell above her, absorbing his weight in his hands and toes. He gathered her head and legs in his arms, pulling her into a ball, using his body to shield her from the unknown danger now at his back.
At the same time, Jack dove behind a garden planter on the walkway. He hit the ground and tilted his head to peer around the barrier. The man had moved, and it took Jack a brief moment to relocate him. With a quiet zwip, a bolt of white energy discharged from the assailant’s weapon. The bolt flew above Sid and Cheryl, hitting the outside wall of the pub and creating an impressive impact crater.
Jack, weapon already primed while he was mid-dive, swung his arm from behind the planter and returned a shot in kind. Zwip. The bolt hit the man in the chest. He collapsed and didn’t move. Jack scanned forward and backward, looking for any other danger. Sid, now up and with his own weapon primed, joined Jack in searching and assessing. Except for the fallen man, neither of them could identify a further threat.
A crowd was gathering outside the pub. From long experience, Sid knew that the best course of action was to leave the scene as quickly as possible. Law enforcement would be there in seconds, and they didn’t want to be sidetracked with sorting through the administrative details of whatever had happened.
They helped Cheryl to her feet and scurried around a corner, taking a circuitous route and keeping their faces covered until they were back at the DSA facility where they’d interrogated Sheldon. Though law enforcement would certainly be able to track three people to that building, a courteous and officious DSA interagency relations staff member would do an admirable job of muddling the facts and stonewalling their inquiry.
Safely inside, Jack went up to brief the night commander and see what he could learn about the shooter. Sid stayed with Cheryl and looked after her.
In uncharacteristic behavior, Sid expressed his thoughts. “Damn, Cheryl. You hit the ground hard. Did I hurt you?”
“Stop, please. You’re one of the few people who know firsthand how tough I am. I fell. It hurt. The bruises will heal. You saved my life.” She stood up on her toes and kissed his cheek.
He pretended not to see the grimace on her face as she stretched the nasty scrape on her hip to do so. “I’m going to take you home,” he stated, uncomfortable having her travel alone until they learned more.
“I don’t think so, Sid.” His face fell and she added, “I do appreciate the offer, though.”
He watched her walk away and noticed the limp in her gait. I do know how tough you are, he called after her in his mind.
Jack came up behind Sid, and together they watched her move stiffly through the exit. “She okay?”
“Yeah, she’s gonna have some nasty bruises, but she’s as tough as they come.” Sid turned to look at him. “What’d we learn?”
“He’s a pro for hire.” Jack sat as he spoke and leaned back with his eyes closed. “That’s all we know. There’s an impressive string of cutouts and overlays that hide the payment and communications trail between him and his employer. When the analysts upstairs make a connection to the next person in the chain, they just find another layer of confusion. Whoever set it up did a frigging work of art.”
“It’s almost worthy of Victoria,” joked Sid.
Jack opened his eyes and they looked at each other. Sid’s offhanded comment hit a resonant chord. If Victoria Wellstone still considered Sid to be a psych specialist who could influence the placement of the four-gen on the Alliance, then she was certainly someone with the means, opportunity, and motive to eliminate him if she perceived him to be a hurdle to her agenda.
Chapter 12
The three had agreed to meet the next afternoon and travel together to Crystal Fab. Cheryl messaged Sid asking if he would show up early, and he arrived at their departure point to find her buying a coffee. She bought one for him as well, and they stood outside and sipped.
“Sid, I appreciate that you saved my life last night.” She paused because this was a hard conversation for her to have. She wanted to communicate a message about his actions without making it a personal criticism. Damn, just spit it out, she told herself.
“We’ve worked together professionally. Many times, in fact, though I admit it’s been years.” She searched for the right words. “You know what I’m capable of. Help me understand your thought process last night outside the pub.”
She watched as he toed the ground for a moment, and then looked up at her. “I guess there’re two people who can be upset with me. Jack’s my partner. I put you first. I need to make that right with him.”
She nodded in understanding and started mentally kicking herself. She hadn’t thought about that piece of the puzzle. This chat suddenly seemed like a really bad idea.
“And I shouldn’t have taken you out of the action. I guess I could have pushed y
ou off and separated us. Then we both could have helped Jack handle a response.”
He reddened at this admission, leaving her feeling distressed. Her goal was to have him treat her like the skilled professional he knew her to be. Instead, this chat seemed like she was trying to humiliate him. She watched him look down and start toeing the ground again.
“Damn it, Sid.” She set down her drink, put her arms around him, and hugged him. “I’m still trying to figure out how we can work together. Our past is muddling my present.”
She started to pull away and then felt his powerful arms wrap around her and pull her back in. He squeezed her tight and rocked her gently.
“Wow,” said Jack, walking up to them. “Whatever they put in that coffee, get me a double.”
Separating, they turned toward him. Sid kept a hand on the small of her back, and Cheryl had to acknowledge a twinge of happiness because he didn’t seem ready to let go.
As they traveled out of town, Jack activated his com’s new security feature so they could talk freely.
“Shouldn’t we let Criss hear us?” Cheryl said. “We’ll be going through this with him when we get there anyway.”
“I fear the Kardish are listening,” said Sid. “We need to ramp up our security procedures.”
Jack nodded. “I’m also worried about the possibility of leaks up the chain of command over at Fleet. There are too many people in that chain, and each link is a potential point of failure.”
“Cheryl,” said Sid. “I wonder if you’d agree to be temporarily assigned to the DSA so we have only one reporting chain to deal with. Our whole chain is one man, the secretary of defense, and we can trust him. A bonus is that he has the authority to get us pretty much whatever we need. That one change eliminates a whole set of worries over leaks and eavesdropping and whatever.”
“I can’t see them letting me keep command of the Alliance if I’m no longer with Fleet.” She’d worked way too hard for that opportunity and was not ready to sacrifice her recent promotion for this one case.
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