by Chris Hechtl
“Don't talk. It's a bitch, believe me I know. Just relax while you've got the chance. We'll work your tail off again in an hour so better enjoy it while you can.”
He nodded once.
She patted his shoulder again and then went back to checking on the rest of the crew.
When she went over to the section chief, he looked up. “How's the kid?” he asked.
“He's good. Doc said it was a good dose, but he'll be back on his feet in an hour after they finish the treatments. Don't expect him to say or hear much,” she warned.
PO Daily nodded. “The kid did good. He did it right,” he said, pitching his voice to make sure the others around them heard the acceptance.
“Good. He's one of us after all,” the bosun said as she went on her way. She was pretty sure the kid's problem with hazing was a thing of the past.
~~~^~~~
Commodore Dwight Harris looked at the plot and grimaced. The battle was almost over, and he'd missed most of it.
“We'll get there shortly, sir. We're almost in range. They keep changing heading though, so it catches us off guard even with the neutrino detectors. They faked out twice,” his staff navigator said apologetically.
“I don't think it matters,” Dwight replied with a shake of his head. He nodded his chin to the enemy fleet icons. “If I were them, I'd cut their losses and pull out. They have to know they can't win.”
“Yes, sir. But we still have to try.”
“Oh, most definitely. They could screwup. They could delay. We might get lucky. Who knows?” He wasn't so certain however.
~~~^~~~
Berney finished his report, sounding stunned by the losses. Admiral Mueller and all three dreadnoughts with him were gone. Just like that they were gone. SAR shuttles were out, but they didn't expect to find much. Several ships in the rear had been damaged, but the bombers had focused on the capital ships.
“We've got more incoming fighters. We've changed course but the conflict in our rear has limited our ability to maneuver. Also, the enemy is trying to move in to take advantage of that,” Jeremy warned.
“Captain Albu got a piece of the enemy cruisers. He shot himself dry doing it though, sir. He's asking for orders,” the chief of staff finished.
“It's over,” Cyrano said as he shook his head. “All ships prep for jump,” he ordered.
“Sir?” Sedrick asked dully.
“Order the fleet train to jump now. They need to get clear before the enemy gets within range of them,” Cyrano ground out. “Jeremy, make for the jump point but get our hyperdrives online. We need to jump.”
“Yes, sir. We're outside the jump zone though, sir. We're inside the limit.”
“I know. We'll have to take the risk,” the admiral said with a shake of his head.
“SAR is out. We've got fighters and bombers out too,” Berney warned hoarsely. Hours of passing on commands and stress had taken a toll on his vocal cords. “I don't know if we can recover them in time, sir.”
“Do what you can. Pass on the recall order now and get busy with the hyperdrives. We're done here,” the admiral said, grinding his teeth. He was a fool; he knew that now. Too many people had paid the price for his foolish pride. He couldn't take that back. But he could try to save what he could. He owed the living that much.
~~~^~~~
Trajan listened to the reports of the enemy hyperdrives charging. “They've slacked fire and recalled their fighters and bombers. We've got a clear road in to their ships,” Commander Bleakly reported.
“Can you get in there and do more damage before they jump?”
Commander Bleakly didn't respond for an agonizing moment. Trajan was well aware he was crunching the numbers. When he saw motion out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head to his staff navigator. She was shaking her head in a silent no.
“Myra says no,” Trajan said.
“My Artoo unit says the same. We might do a little damage, but we could get caught up in the works,” the CAG said, sounding disgusted.
“Keep chasing them but …”
“Sir! The enemy fleet train has just jumped,” a rating called out, cutting Trajan off.
“Very well,” he said, acknowledging the report.
“The screen has changed course for the enemy ships and gone to flank speed,” Ensign Four Eyes reported.
“They'll never make it,” Trajan said. “Never mind. Bring our people home, Bleakly, let them run. We'll catch up to them another day,” he said.
“Aye aye, sir.”
Chapter 57
Antigua
Word got to the Guild leadership that April had been compromised and that a major black investigation in the DOJ was underway. When the local chapters of the Assassin's Guild, Information Guild, and Thieves Guild held their monthly shareholder's meeting, the problem was discussed. “She's too public. This was bound to happen,” one of the Godfathers murmured.
There were six Godfathers in the Antigua chapter of the Assassin's Guild. Each had risen to their rank through years of ruthless and tireless work. Some might see them as sociopaths. They were effective at blending in, having families, doing regular jobs, many were pillars of the community. Not one had a public tie to organized crime. They were clean as fresh snow and planned to stay that way. None of them associated with psychopaths like Skeletor. They all knew he drew too much heat upon himself with his actions, not something they or the Guild wanted.
In other words, they had a lot to lose. Any sort of public exposure was bad. They'd had enough of that nonsense with the McClintock incidents.
“We know they know she is tied to something. Our sources in the DOJ are very vague however; it is too compartmentalized. Just the idea that they know something is unpalatable. We have to cut off the source before it brings us down,” another Godfather stated.
“You wish to eliminate her,” an Information Guild leader asked.
“Yes. It is our way.”
“She hasn't talked,” the Guild leader protested. “She has turned over those who have.”
“And look where that led us!” another Guild leader said in disgust. “Too much exposure! We need to cut this off. People are getting sloppy.”
“We've forgotten the old Federation, how it was run,” a Thief leader whispered.
“All those in favor?” a Don asked, setting a dagger in front of him pointed at her image as tradition dictated.
One by one the other guild leaders voted as well. When the Information Guild leaders realized that things were not going for their member, they fell in with the majority.
“Then it is settled. We'll set up the contract,” a Don from Antigua Prime stated.
“We tried once, right? That didn't work,” another Don said. “She's more careful now.”
“We didn't try that mugging. It was a rogue op. We disciplined those involved. They didn't know Miss O'Neill was one of ours at the time.”
“Pity it had failed.”
“At the time, we were more concerned as to why someone had acted without permission. Only now we are concerned as to how it was stopped. Now we know why. How much does the DOJ know? What about Irons?”
“Too much. She is a source of information. She's also very high profile. What do you want to do?”
“We'll try again. Eliminate her and her handler. We'll have to make it look like some nut job. Set it up.”
“We have two candidates on hand. We can put them into position but feeding them the material to get them fixated on Miss O'Neill to give us the proper backstory will take time. What about her security detail?”
“They are far enough back to give her some semblance of privacy. I think if we arrange a distraction, then we can move in before they'll have time to react.”
“Understood.”
“Set it up. No loose ends. I want everyone involved sanitized afterward just to be sure. The burnt hand teaches best.”
“Yes, sir. They won't have anything to bring back to us.”
“Let's h
ope not. The admiral's going to be pissed when this happens.”
~~~^~~~
“It's going into the final phase,” Yorgi said after he read the report. He looked over to Admiral Irons. “We need a final go on this, sir. The ship is in place. The people are in place. If they wait too long ….” He looked imploringly at the admiral.
Admiral Irons just sat there. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, there was no way he could. It was unpalatable, but it was reality.
“Admiral, John …, I know this is painful …”
“We'll do it when I say so, a full sweep. But only on my go,” the admiral said as he rose and left.
Yorgi frowned. Geni cocked her head on his HUD. He shrugged too.
~~~^~~~
April was starting to hate her meetings with her handler. Ever since the mugging, she hadn't been happy about it. She'd been nervous, and that had been plain to the woman. The woman hadn't said anything of course. Of course, she couldn't come out and confirm or deny that she had been involved.
But April knew something was up. She had replayed what the muggers had said over and over to her. She'd had a few sleepless nights over it.
She sat on the bench and looked around. She could see the Secret Service agents. She was of two minds about them being there, even if they were in the distance. She wondered if the woman would show up or not. She hooked her ankles together and swung them like a child would for a bit. She looked longingly over to the playground nearby. For some crazy reason, she wanted to be a child again. Perhaps it was because she wanted to be naive and protected? She snorted mentally at herself. Grow up, April, she thought.
~~~^~~~
Asina was not happy about the assignment, but a job from the Guild was nonnegotiable. It would be simple though; she'd arranged to have the poison ring. One move and it would deploy the pin. All it would take was a scratch. The other woman wouldn't realize she had been given the poison until she died in her sleep later that evening.
It was a simple plan she knew. It also took her out of the equation, and the poison was one the Guild had used for centuries. It had fooled any who looked into the suspicious death. Only an extremely in-depth toxicology screen as well as a special autopsy within hours of the subject's death would be able to spot the proteins as they broke down.
That still didn't make the woman any less nervous about the job. She knew they were being watched. Doing it under the nose of the much-vaunted Secret Service would be a thrill, but only if she pulled it off.
She huffed and puffed as she tried to keep her pace. She didn't want to look out of sorts. It was just another ordinary day for a jog she reminded herself. Stay in character.
“Ma'am, you'll have to come with us,” a voice said as she rounded the next bend and went into a down slope momentarily out of sight of the target.
She paused as a Neoleopard dropped out of the nearby tree in front of her.
She braked fast and put her hands up. “Look, I don't have any money,” she said nervously. She felt someone behind her and turned to see a human in a business suit come up behind her. A third in a tactical vest made her blink and suck in a breath.
“Don't do anything stupid,” the leopard warned.
She realized she was being arrested. There wasn't much she could do about that. When the Guild found out, she was a dead woman. She might as well go out on her own. She clenched her hand, opened it, and then clenched her fist driving the pin that had deployed in the underside of the ring into her palm.
The leopard's eyes narrowed as the agent on her right grabbed her hand.
“Ring, something …”
She went to scratch the guy, but he held her wrist in a grip like iron. She felt something tear at her chest.
“Too soon,” she gasped out as she fought to breathe. Her vision swam. “Too …”
“Shit! She's coding!” a voice snarled. She dropped to the ground as hands tried to help her. But then she knew no more.
The lead agent shook his head as the woman's vital signs flatlined all at once. Obviously, the poison in the ring wasn't the slow-acting painless death she'd been told. He looked over his shoulder and then moved slightly to the rise in the trail and beyond to the bench. The mark was still sitting there oblivious to what had happened.
Well, that was something of a relief. He watched as she left, feeling the Neocat step up beside him.
“What about her?” the agent asked, indicating the departed red head.
“Let her go. We know where she is going.”
“Oh.”
“I don't envy her. This one got off lightly,” the lead agent said, indicating the dead woman at their feet.
~~~^~~~
Irma looked up with surprise when she saw a familiar red-haired woman in a yellow dusk jacket make her way through the outer layer of offices. She had been aware something was up; the brass didn't ask about April's movements with that intensity unless she was in for the long chop. That sucked, but that was the breaks.
But, April had returned. She was not sure what had gone wrong. “I've got to do that dratted jury duty tomorrow. You cleared my schedule?” April asked as she came over to Irma.
Irma nodded and returned to character with a minor jolt. “Yes, I did. How was your walk?”
“Fine. Nothing to complain about,” April replied with a shrug.
Irma frowned but then left a tablet with April as she went to her desk. She was tempted to contact her handler but refrained. She knew better. And they had better know she had no intention of doing the job herself.
As the day wound down, she finished up and then went to leave. When she got to the elevator to her apartment, she wasn't really paying attention to those around her. When she stepped into the car, there was a woman in a business suit and jacket there. The woman had her hair back in a pony tail and smiled at her.
That instantly struck warning bells for some reason. She decided to hold off. “I'll take the next car,” she mumbled when the man behind her pushed her inside. “I think we insist,” the man said as she eeped in surprise and dismay.
~~~^~~~
April had put off her jury duty as long as she could. She had filed the three extensions but then she was maxed out. Reluctantly, she had finally had Irma clear her schedule and go through with it.
When the day dawned, she got ready and then arrived early at the court house. It was beautiful, a marble faced Roman building complete with pillars near the park. She'd walked past it many times. She had even been on the steps a few times doing stories and interviews or getting tidbits of information. But she hadn't been inside for much. Any sort of lawsuits the company handled anyway.
Check-in was simple; she identified herself and logged in at the desk as instructed. They gave her information to read about why she was there, the role she had to play, and the options she had. She had already scanned it all. She had to turn off all electronic devices and couldn't access Wi-Fi until the day was over. If she was selected, she couldn't record the proceedings in any form. That included in the jury deliberation room. That part she hadn't anticipated.
Once in the jury pool room itself, she was bemused at being stuck in a room of people of various species. They were told to be quiet and just be patient, but most people ignored that and talked with each other softly. She was instantly recognized by everyone in the room and chatted and even gave out autographs.
When she was polled, she was relieved to be dismissed within a minute of both parties in the case finding out about her chosen career. The judge thanked her for her service.
“Well! That was easy! Irma was right again, I should have gotten through this earlier. I don't see what everyone was complaining about,” she said with a shake of her head as she headed to the exit.
But on the way out, she was intercepted. A pair of unsmiling agents came alongside her. “This way, Miss O'Neill,” they said.
“What is this about?” she demanded, suddenly fearful. “Has something happened to John?” she asked, eyes wide.
“We'll explain in a moment. We don't want it in public,” the lead agent stated.
Once they went through a warren of rooms, she was ushered into another room she instantly recognized as an interrogation room. “Look, I've got places to be!” She tried to reach out through her implants, but she was denied access to any Wi-Fi network.
“You are being detained for various reasons, Miss O'Neill,” the lead agent said as the door shut behind him. “Foremost being you are an agent of the Guilds,” he stated.
She froze instantly. She turned slowly and stared at him. “Guilds? I don't know what you are saying. I'm a reporter, I have rights …”
“Ordinarily, yes. And if you wish, we will call an attorney for you. But then things get complicated,” the lead agent stated.
“Why are you doing this? Does John know?” She looked from one agent to the other as the female agent pushed her gently down into the seat across from the one-way mirror. Her implants allowed her to see vague shapes of people on the other side.
“The appropriate people know you are here. Now, we have some questions. I assure you, we will get answers.”
“I think I want my lawyer,” she said, voice quivering in fear. If the Guilds found out, she was doomed.
“Okay, we can make the call,” the lead agent said as he took the seat across from her. He pulled out a manila folder and set it down and then opened it up and took out some images. He turned them to face her. “These have been taken regularly.”
She glanced at them and noted they were of her meeting her handler. She kept a stern lock on her composure. “I cannot confirm or deny that is a source …”
“Please,” the female agent said in disdain.
The lead agent gave his partner a quelling look and then went back to the images. He pulled out a few more. “As you know, you were being followed. Not just by paparazzi of course,” he said, laying down an image of a reporter with a camera.
“I know. John told me the Secret Service were monitoring me for my safety. But he assured me that they were discrete and wouldn't report anything I did.”