The Thin Blue Line (The Empire's Corps Book 9) (v5.1)

by Christopher Nuttall

  ... And then arrested the leader of the snatch squad.

  He stared at her in frank disbelief. There were so many contradictions surrounding her appearance that he knew she had to be playing a role. She looked young – he would have placed her age at twenty-five, perhaps younger – and yet she held herself with the ease of a seasoned officer. Indeed, despite being cuffed and searched, she didn't look helpless. Glen’s instincts were screaming at him, warning him that this was no one to underestimate. And he thought he would have known better than to underestimate her even if she hadn't saved his life.

  And lost Isabel’s, he thought, with sudden bitterness. But at least she saved the body.

  Talk,” he repeated. “You broke into my house.”

  “You didn't answer the door,” Belinda Lawson said. “I knocked. Twice.”

  “No one answers the door here,” Glen muttered. He’d expected someone trying to rob him, with an excuse prepared if the apartment had actually been occupied. And he’d given Helen strict orders to ignore anyone knocking at the door. The thought of what might have happened if someone had broken into the apartment when she was alone was horrifying. “I normally have people buzzed through the security gates.”

  “Oh,” Belinda said. She sounded torn between amusement and irritation. “Do you know who I am?”

  Glen shrugged. “A snatch squad leader of surprising competence?”

  Belinda’s nose wrinkled at his words, as if she’d smelled something bad. “I assumed you would have read my file,” she said. “Didn't you have a chance?”

  “Not really,” Glen said. There had been too many other files to read and, truthfully, he hadn't expected much from their escorts. They’d been incredibly lucky he was wrong. “I assumed you’d been conscripted, as they wouldn't have wasted experienced officers on us.”

  “True enough,” Belinda said. “My file – officially – states that I was a military policewoman before I retired.”

  “I'm sure that made you popular,” Glen grunted. Military policemen were rather less popular than regular policemen, at least among the ranks of those they patrolled. “Or is that a lie?”

  “Yes,” Belinda said. “I’m a Marine. A Pathfinder Marine.”

  Glen looked at her, then started to laugh. “You are a Marine,” he repeated. He allowed his voice to become sarcastic. “Correct me if I'm wrong, young lady, but aren’t Marines supposed to have bald heads? Your hair is long enough to touch your shoulders. And why are you wearing that awful uniform anyway?”

  “A Pathfinder isn’t supposed to look like a regular Marine,” Belinda said, without heat. “And I'm undercover, which is why I’m wearing this uniform.”

  “I think I’ve seen far too many posers in my time,” Glen said. “Do you know how many criminal thugs claim to have military experience? They get paid more if they manage to convince their masters that they can actually fight.”

  And yet, despite the sheer unlikelihood of the situation, he couldn't help wondering if she was telling the truth. She’d displayed genuine combat skills during the riot, rather than running around screaming or firing madly into the maddened crowd.

  He took a breath. “Prove it.”

  Belinda looked up at him and smirked, then flexed her arms. The handcuffs shattered. Glen stared as pieces of chain fell to the floor – he’d checked the handcuffs personally before he’d signed for them and they were in excellent condition – and then watched as she tore the bracelets off her wrists. And she’d done it so quickly that he hadn't had a chance to raise his gun. If she’d attacked him ...

  “Enhanced strength and reinforcement,” Belinda said. She ran her fingertips along her arm, trailing the bone. “A normal human, no matter how strong, could not have done that without damaging herself.”

  “True,” Glen said. He glanced at her wrists, but the skin seemed utterly unmarked. If she was that heavily enhanced, she had to come out of a government facility. “How did you manage to pass through the security sensors?”

  “I know how to spoof them,” Belinda said. She rose to her feel, her blonde hair spilling around her heart-shaped face. “Can we talk now?”

  Glen looked at her for a long moment, then returned his gun to his belt. If she meant him harm, she could have killed him by now, the moment he’d relaxed after snapping on the cuffs. It had been brave of her to let him cuff her – he might have shot her at once or found something capable of holding her – and he felt a flicker of respect. And he found himself wondering if she was telling the truth.

  “We can,” he said. “Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

  “Milk, no sugar,” Belinda said, as she followed him into the kitchen. “I ... hi!”

  Glen turned to see Helen, staring at the older woman. “This is Belinda,” he said, quickly. “She’s come to visit.”

  Helen looked doubtful – how much of their conversation had she overheard? – but nodded and went back into the lounge. Glen hadn't really spoken to her since he’d returned from the station, choosing instead to sit in his room and brood. He felt a stab of guilt as he sorted out two mugs of coffee, then motioned for Belinda to take one of the chairs. She sat, with all the daintiness of a cat. Up close, now he knew what to look for, there were more signs of intensive training in her movements.

  “I’m looking after her,” he said, by way of explanation. He hadn't missed the puzzled look Belinda had thrown at Helen. Glen’s file would not have mentioned a child living with him, either natural-born or adopted. “It’s a long story.”

  Belinda crossed her legs as she sipped her coffee. “Mine is also a long story,” she said. “The short version is that I was sent here to make sure the conference, the conference the Governor just made public, goes ahead without a hitch.”

  Glen’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have any reason to believe it would be threatened?”

  “Quite a number,” Belinda said. She shrugged, expressively. “Do you have any idea just how many factions there are that would like to see the Empire shatter?”

  “I could guess,” Glen said. “Do you have any information on specific threats?”

  “No,” Belinda said. “I would venture a guess that most people haven't heard of the conference, not until now. But your Governor had to invite others and word might be spreading.”

  “Very well,” Glen said. He sighed. “And do you have a prime suspect?”

  Her eyes darkened, long enough to worry him. “I suspect that someone is planning trouble,” she said. “There are too many worrying signs. The warehouse full of weapons might just be the tip of the iceberg. But I don’t think it’s the Nihilists, unless they’ve learned how to be patient.”

  “Explain,” Glen ordered.

  “The Nihilists believe that life is ultimately futile and ending it, for themselves as well as others, to be the only sane response,” Belinda said. “Their attacks on the planetary infrastructure fit in with the pattern we saw on Earth, but they were too weak to succeed and only managed to place the security forces on their guard. The attacks were worse than useless, from their point of view.”

  “I concede the point,” Glen said. He’d wondered the same himself. “But who else would be mad enough to launch attacks that could have devastated the planet’s population?”

  Belinda’s blue eyes met his. “They started with a plan that was doomed to fail from the start,” she said. “It makes no sense, so I started wondering if they meant to fail. And then I started wondering who benefited from the failed attacks.”

  Glen frowned. “But no one benefited from the attacks.”

  “Someone did,” Belinda said. “The attacks – and the riots – gave the Governor a chance to declare a state of emergency and take supreme power for himself. And he’s been using snatch squads like mine to round up political and corporate enemies, people who might stand in his way. He’s now in control of the entire system, without anyone to oppose or countermand him.”

  Glen felt his blood run cold. He’d never considered the p
ossibility, except ... it did make a certain kind of sense. Without Earth, Terra Nova was the most important planet in the Empire. Whoever controlled Terra Nova would be in a good position to become Emperor in his own right, or at least shape and control the successor state as it took on shape and form.

  “The warehouse,” he said, slowly. He’d wondered why the Nihilists hadn't hastened to scatter the weapons across a number of safe houses as soon as possible. “Were we meant to stumble across the weapons?”

  “It’s quite possible,” Belinda agreed. She rubbed her chin, thoughtfully. “The Governor might be trying to ensure that he is in the best possible position to take power.”

  Glen cursed under his breath. If it was the Governor ... there was no real hope of bringing him to trial. He could take what they had to Patty, but she’d point out that they had nothing more than suspicions, without any real proof. And even if they did have proof, who would try the Governor of Terra Nova? Three-quarters of the men and women in high places owed their positions to the Governor. They’d resist any attempt to remove him from power.

  “We don’t have any proof,” he said, out loud. Just about everything the Governor had done, even snatching his political opponents, could be justified. He needed to keep the peace long enough to hold the conference and sort out the Empire’s future. “And it could easily be someone else.”

  Belinda’s eyes flickered. “Like who?”

  “Someone who benefits from seeing Terra Nova go up in flames,” Glen said, frankly. “Hell, do we have any proof that the existence of the warehouses, and someone manipulating the rioters, is connected to the conference?”

  “... No,” Belinda said. “But the Governor is still the most likely suspect.”

  Her face twisted. There was something personal there, Glen was sure, or he couldn't read people at all. And that meant that Belinda would hardly be impartial on the subject of the Governor. She’d be predisposed to believe the worst of him. And, even if she was right, it would blind her to the facts.

  “Then someone could easily be trying to cause a disaster without being aware of the conference,” Glen offered. “The Nihilists could have lost their senior leaders in the warehouse and their subordinates are lashing out desperately, without a clear plan.”

  Belinda snorted. “Wishful thinking,” she said. “And how do you account for the arrival of outside commandos?”

  “Point,” Glen said. The Nihilists had proven themselves immensely difficult to eradicate, just like any other organisation composed of fanatics. Earth had never managed to crush the movement right up until its final days. “But were the commandos working for the Governor or someone else?”

  “They wouldn't want the weapons to fall into the hands of real Nihilists,” Belinda offered, dryly. “Fanatics are dangerously unpredictable.”

  She sighed. “We have to make sure the conference goes ahead,” she said, “all the while watching our backs.”

  “And we have to consider all possibilities,” Glen said. “How do I know you’re not here to stop the conference?”

  Belinda looked oddly hurt. “Because I wouldn't have come to talk to you if I intended to sabotage Island One,” she said. “I would have sneaked onto Island One as part of the security detachment and done my dirty work there. If I managed to get myself into the security forces on the ground, it wouldn't be much harder to get onto Island One.”

  “It will be once I'm in charge,” Glen said. “I’ll make sure that everyone boarding the station is scanned thoroughly.”

  “Good luck,” Belinda said, dryly. “I think we should work together.”

  Glen studied her for a long moment. She wasn't Isabel, he knew, and she was a dangerous rogue element. What if she was involved in the plot, even though her actions made no sense if she was involved? She was right. All she really had to do was keep her head down until the time came to sabotage the conference. But there were too many imponderables for him to be happy about anything.

  Logically, he should inform Patty of her presence and ask for orders. And yet, if the Governor was behind the entire plot – for whatever twisted reason made sense to him – asking for orders would be a form of suicide. He knew what to do when confronted with a thief, a rapist or a murderer, but political crimes were beyond him. What was the right course of action?

  “Very well,” he said, finally. It would be better to have Belinda under his wing than running loose on her own. “I’ll request your presence as part of my security team.”

  “That would work,” Belinda assured him. “And you’d have a good reason to ask for me.”

  “I suppose,” Glen said, shortly.

  He stood up and started to pace the tiny room. “I think we should take advantage of the next two days,” he added. “I’m going to find out what happened to the source, the one that betrayed the warehouse.”

  “I may be able to tease it out of the computers,” Belinda said. “My implants have built-in hacking software.”

  “Brilliant,” Glen muttered. “That’s how you got through the security network, isn't it?”

  “More or less,” Belinda confirmed. “But my level of augmentation is quite rare. Few people can endure so much enhancement, much less operate effectively afterwards.”

  “Even a hidden nerve-burst implant can be dangerous,” Glen muttered. He’d heard plenty of horror stories about people with hidden augmentation breaking out of custody or murdering policemen when they were caught. “Is there a way to counter it?”

  “Only from the inside,” Belinda said. “I can help you with that, if necessary.”

  “It will be,” Glen said. He took a breath. It was night outside and the curfew would be in full effect. “When are you expected back at your barracks?”

  “I have an appointment with my superior tomorrow,” Belinda said, “but I’m not actually expected back before then. They seem to find me surplus to requirements.”

  “Too competent to be wasted on a snatch squad, too new to be given a more trusted position,” Glen guessed. He knew he would give his eyeteeth for a handful of competent subordinates, particularly if he was in charge of the conscripts. But Belinda was beautiful as well as competent. “Or does he have something else in mind?”

  “I hope not,” Belinda said. She gave him a sharp look. “What do you want to do?”

  “You stay here,” Glen said. “There’s a couch in the living room – Isabel slept there once or twice, when she had a fight with her partners – and you can spend the night there. I’ll call the boss, get you transferred over to my command and look for the source. We can investigate just where the tip-off actually came from tomorrow.”

  Belinda hesitated, then nodded. Glen wondered just what was going through her head; if she was half as capable as she claimed to be, she wouldn’t be scared of falling asleep near him, even if he was a near-stranger. But then, he wasn't helpless either.

  “But I do need more proof of your credentials,” he added. “Is there any way to prove your identity?”

  “There’s a code you can send to the Imperial Army database,” Belinda said. She reached for a piece of paper and scribbled down a set of numbers. “You have to send it to the automated system you use for checking ID numbers, not the desk officer. You’ll get a response from them confirming that it belongs to a Marine.”

  “That doesn't prove anything,” Glen pointed out. “The code could belong to any Marine.”

  “Check the message path,” Belinda said. “You’ll find it comes right out of the Marine subsection of the datanet. They’ll certainly confirm the code could only be used by an active-service Marine.”

  She shrugged. “Details of active-service Marines are restricted, for obvious reasons,” she added. “It would be very irritating if someone ran my DNA against the files and discovered who I really was.”

  “Irritating,” Glen repeated. There were so many holes in the files that an entire battlefleet could fly through one without scraping the edges. “I suppose I’ll have to trust y
ou.”

  Belinda stood. She was taller than him, Glen noted, suddenly. He scowled, cursing his oversight. It hadn't been obvious from the way she moved and it damn well should have been. But it was another hint that she’d been very carefully trained to move, utterly unnoticed, through any environment. Any description he’d given of her would be badly skewed.

  “Yes, you will,” she said. “Because I think your entire planet depends on the conference going ahead, without delay.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Worse, the Civil Guard was entirely unsuited to any form of detective work. They could respond rapidly against open attacks, but they were unable to track down terrorists, such as the Nihilists. Indeed, their actions helped make the Nihilists far more dangerous. Local civilians, hating and fearing the Civil Guardsmen who were supposed to be keeping them safe, were often quite willing to supply help to the Nihilists.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Decline of Law and Order and the Rise of Anarchy.

  Belinda wasn't too surprised that Glen – she supposed she could call him Glen now – was still a little suspicious of her. She’d come out of nowhere, after all, when he was emotionally vulnerable and weakened. And she really had no definite way to prove her identity. Carrying anything other than the Marine code would have risked exposure, while the code itself could be used by any Marine. He had to consider the possibility that, augmentation or no, she was a poser,

  But she really had no choice, but to convince him to trust her.

  “I’m going to make a few calls,” Glen said. “Can you wait in the living room?”

  Belinda nodded. It was obvious that Glen wanted to check her out, then perhaps ask his superiors about their source in the Nihilists. She rose to her feet and walked into the next room, where the little girl was watching the viewscreen in a manner that suggested she was tenser than she’d like to admit. Belinda had no difficulty in recognising a lost soul, or someone afraid that the universe was going to change on them again. But why was the girl even here in the first place? Glen’s file hadn't mentioned a daughter or a niece.