by Clare Dargin
“Ask the XO.”
Frustrated, she stamped her agitation down. “I did. He’s not talking.”
He looked away and paused as if to think. He sighed.
“Just cooperate with him, and everything will be fine.”
“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” she asked, barely maintaining her composure.
“What do you expect me say?” He approached her.
She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. That it was just procedure, and her team wasn’t under suspicion for some wrongdoing she had no idea about.
“I expect you to tell me what’s going on.”
“Like what?”
“Like who was that guy in the CIC the other day giving crappy advice on how to extricate a victim in a known hostile environment? Or why are the XO and his gang of MP’s rambling through my team’s stuff?” she demanded, raising her voice.
“Dial it down, Chief,” he warned.
Shocked, she stepped back.
“So that’s how you want to play it?”
He straightened his pose. “You think this is a game? Well, wise up!” He spun around and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
A part of her was tempted to chase after him and demand answers, but she knew her place. She wasn’t his wife; she was his soldier. “Shit.”
Nothing in her life made sense. Not her relationship with her husband nor her job. What was the point? She felt like a weathervane turning in the wind, in a million directions.
Leaving the room, she made her way to the passageway outside the CIC. Footsteps sounded behind her.
“Chief,” a man’s voice called out.
Caitlin stopped and turned around. It was the same man from the CIC the other day. She noted the silver leaf on his lapel. “Yes, sir?”
“May I speak with you?”
“Of course, sir.”
He escorted her into the room she had just left. She stood at attention near the center as he shut the door behind them.
“Chief Warrant Officer Driskoll, I am Commander Gadison, and I would like to ask you some questions. Please sit.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I understand you are here with your unit?”
“Correct.”
“They are a specially designated Maritime Special Operations Force?”
“That is correct, sir.”
“What are the primary tasks of your team?”
Caitlin paused. “Sir, may I ask a question?”
The information he was asking was classified, and she wasn’t willing to give it up to just anyone, whether in uniform or not. Besides, if he was Intel, wouldn’t he already have access to that type of information?
“Certainly.”
“Who are you?”
“I am who I stated myself to be,” he replied.
“Permission to rephrase?”
“Granted.”
“Which Command do you represent?”
Commander Gadison chuckled. “Your file says you are smart.”
He leaned back and crossed his legs. “I am not at liberty to say. However, you are authorized to give me your full cooperation in my questioning. Is that understood?”
Caitlin remained silent, unsure of what to make of him and his intentions.
“Chief Driskoll, I can assure you my clearance is higher than yours.”
“Everybody’s clearance is higher than mine. Where are you from? I can tell you’re not from this ship.”
“As I asked before, Chief, what are the primary tasks of your team?”
“That information is classified. And considering your security clearance I am sure, sir, you will have no problem obtaining it.”
“Are you refusing to answer my question?”
“No, sir. I am refusing to divulge classified information.”
“I can have you arrested.”
“Thank you, sir. I can use the rest.”
He looked away and smiled. “Okay, I see where this is going. You’d better cooperate with me, because your future depends on it.”
He appeared unimpressed with her less than cooperative attitude.
“Once again. Will you reconsider?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well?”
“I have, and the answer is still no. When I have proof of who you are, it will be permissible for me to do so.”
She studied his insignia, seeing if she recognized his Command. Her thoughts became fuzzy. Suddenly, she had the desire to do exactly what he wanted. Caitlin sat forward and leaned on the table. She refocused her gaze and stared at the desk. Slowly her thoughts cleared.
“Did you find it interesting?”
“What, sir?” She squinted at him. Her vision became as hazy as her mind.
“The news of the research station’s status.”
“I do not follow, sir.”
“The station’s status. Did you find it interesting?”
“I found it to be tragic.”
“How so?”
“The loss of life.”
She fought with every fiber of her being to maintain her reality. Though her mind said obey, her spirit yelled no.
“The scientists, the mission on the planet. Did everything turn out as planned?”
“I don’t follow.”
“The killing of the people in the facility, the theft of government property.”
“Are you nuts?” She stood pushing away the chair.
“How do we know your team didn’t kill those people on the planet and then claim they were killed by unknown combatants?”
“That’s ridiculous. You were monitoring our signals the entire time. If shots were fired, you would have heard them,” she replied, shocked they gave someone so dim such rank.
“Someone killed those scientists and now we have two more bodies, plus missing bottles of Cryotherazine. You want to explain that?”
“Not really.”
“Did you or your team steal bottles of Cryotherazine?”
“What?” Caitlin jumped to her feet. “They give it to us for free!”
“Did I push a button, Chief? Did I make you mad?”
Caitlin stared him directly in the eye and smirked. “Don’t you have relatives you should be turning in?”
His jaw tensed, and his eyes became set like stone. “Sit down. That’s an order.”
She sat slowly. The chair scraped against the floor as she moved it closer to the table. Deep inside her mind, turmoil built up for disobeying a superior officer. She rubbed her forehead and brow and avoided looking at his rank and insignia. She knew it would only make things worse.
“If you come clean now, perhaps they’ll go easy on you.”
That was a lie. It was well known that any acts of terrorism or violence by an O-cryo against a regular meant instant death.
“I didn’t do anything—we,” she said, fighting for clarity, “didn’t do anything.”
She looked at the wall behind him. The clouds in her mind cleared. Her resolve began to build.
“You have an interesting record. Up until a few years ago, you were a nothing, a nobody. You were a bullet catcher on an icy planet with a one-way ticket to destiny. And now, all of a sudden you’re a warrant officer. How did you climb the promotion ladder so fast?”
“Because I’m good at what I do.”
“And that would be?”
“Killing chilly assholes like yourself.”
***
Keegan frowned as a soldier walked onto the bridge, wearing a holstered weapon on his hip. It was forbidden to do so for everyone except the chief of the watch, who stood guard at the bridge at all times.
But then again, nothing around here is as it should be. My wife is a part of my crew. I have an enemy spy on board killing people, and another one determined to send me to an early grave.
“Sir,” the sergeant said, handing him a piece of paper on a clipboard.
“What?” he barked.
“Bri
g log,” the man replied flinching.
It was standard operating procedure for the commander of the ship to approve or at least be notified of all detentions aboard the ship. And considering it didn’t happen very often, he was surprised to see it.
“Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, realizing his blunder.
The white sheet had only one name on it. As he read it, he clenched his teeth and tried not to snarl. It read “Chief Warrant Officer Caitlin Driskoll.”
***
Caitlin relaxed on the rack inside the brig. Sighing, she refused to worry about her situation. It wasn’t the first time she’d been behind bars on a ship and it probably wouldn’t be the last. At least she would have her meals delivered to her, and she could sleep in without the threat of missing muster. It was like staying at a resort only smaller.
“You have company,” a sergeant said, turning off the field that kept her inside.
“I do?”
The sergeant escorted her into the interrogation room. She glanced at Gadison who stood in the corner watching her enter. She sat down at the only table in the room.
“You again.”
“Ready to talk?”
“About what?” She sighed wearily.
“Who you are? You know I can make your life a living hell. I can end your career,” he threatened.
“Then do it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing either, considering I didn’t choose it in the first damn place. It chose me.”
Gadison pulled up a chair and sat close. He leaned forward and spoke in a soft yet firm tone. “I don’t know what you’re up to but I’m going to find out, I assure you, even if it means making you spend the rest of your days in Leavenworth.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Based on what, a few missing vials of stuff they force us to take on a regular basis? Come back when you have a real threat.”
Caitlin tried in vain to stifle the resentment building within her. Every day she served, she gave it her all. When would it end? The threats? The recriminations? How much blood did she have to spill before she got some respect?
“Follow your conscience; your kind has them, though you may not use it. Just tell me. Why did you kill the nurse? Did she figure out you are working for the other side?”
Her nails dug into her palms.
“Maybe while administering your meds, you talked too much. Said something you shouldn’t have. Admit it, you’re feeding intel to the enemy.”
Her rage spilled over. She slapped her hands on the table. “That’s a lie!”
Gadison smirked. “We know all about you. The O-Cryo Rebellion. You hate humanity. And you’ll do whatever you can to get back at us.”
“We have given our lives in service to our country and our planet. How dare you cheapen the sacrifices we made. We earned our rights!”
“And you’re getting back at us by helping the other side. But Ms. Driskoll, you picked the wrong team. The Verneans will kill you as soon as they look at you. Once they get what they need, you will be tossed aside like the garbage you are.”
Caitlin flew across the table, all restraint gone. She no longer cared who the man was or who he worked for. He had no right to make such accusations. Before she could reach him, she was pulled back.
“No!” she wailed. Tears stung her eyes.
Gadison glared. “Sergeant, take her back to her cell.”
She shook the other man off and straightened her shoulders. She gave Gadison one last look before she turned to the door, contempt clogging her throat. What did he know about her kind or what she’d been through? “I can walk back myself.”
***
“How the hell was I supposed to know she’s your wife? Even my security clearances have limits.” Gadison loosened his collar and paced the room.
Keegan had heard about the interrogation of his wife. His blood boiled. How dare Gadison do so on his ship without his express permission? And much less to the woman he loved. “What made you think my wife knew anything?”
Gadison ran a hand through his hair. “Drugs were missing and she’s an O-Cryo.”
“She didn’t steal the drugs.”
“I believe you, but—”
“She’s an original cryo, yes, but was at and not a member of the rebellion. I know because I was there. And considering no one cared to pay attention to that little fact, she, too, was given the AF neurotransmitters. The active perpetrators died in the fire. Everyone else was given the transmitters as a safety precaution.”
“My God.” Gadison stopped his pacing.
“Yea, the cryo soup.”
“That stuff is illegal.”
“It is now. But then it wasn’t for her kind. The prohibition only applies to the newest group—the volunteers.”
“I’ll release her from the brig immediately.”
“It’s been done. I’m not telling you this to garner your sympathy. I’m simply trying to get you to understand. You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
“Then who is committing these crimes? Who is killing our people?”
Keegan shrugged. He rubbed his neck, then looked up. “Have you seen Doctor Roesner?”
“No. There are thousands of people on board. How are you keeping track of everyone?”
“We have our systems and everyone has certain access, but she’s a civilian. There wouldn’t be a need to keep track of her unless she wanted to leave the ship….”
“So what are you saying?”
Keegan crossed his arms. “Maybe you should aim your suspicions at her and start your interrogations with her first.”
“Perhaps you should make a ship-wide broadcast.”
“And let her know we’re on to her? No.” The last thing he needed was a full-scale panic regarding a spy on his hands. “I’ll have the XO speak directly to the department heads. We’ll have them stay on the lookout for any unauthorized personnel seeking access to their areas, but I’ll have someone check the civilian quarters first.”
“I’ll get right on it. You talk to your XO.” Gadison stormed out without another word.
Keegan glanced at his gold wedding band. He could guess what his wife was probably feeling at the moment. If only he could go comfort her....
Chapter Sixteen
“Pardon me, ma’am,” a man said, to Jenny as he walked by her inside the CIC.
Situated on the third deck near the back, the ship’s nerve center was guarded by armed personnel. Fortunately, the dead lieutenant’s uniform made her look as if she belonged. She entered the darkened room and was assaulted by the noise of conversation and machinery melding into one.
She surveyed the workstations lining the perimeter of the room. Each contained vital information as to the location and mission of the ship. She only needed one.
“Specialist, can I help you?” a man asked, approaching her. He appeared to be in charge.
“Uh, sorry, sir. I was just on my way back to my station.”
“Where is it?”
Flustered, she surveyed the room, spotting an empty chair. “There…sir.”
“Carry on.”
“Yes, sir.”
Walking over to the vacant station, she sat down. She studied the screen. It was locked and could only be accessed by code. Reaching into her pocket, she removed a small cipher and placed it underneath the console. The screen flashed momentarily before coming to life. A menu system appeared.
She selected the item that tracked the ships trajectory and studied the information, pleased they’d be unable to complete their mission. Selecting the signals communication screen, Jenny input the code she had memorized. With the code accepted, she navigated to the area that was most important, tracking and identification. She tapped the cipher once again.
The words, “Identifier Accepted” scrolled onto the screen. The information she needed was securely transferred to the micro receiver in her pocket.
“Sir, I’m only trying to do my job,” she heard a man say.
“I am scheduled to be on
duty,” he argued. The conversation became heated and uncomfortably close.
Making sure the cipher was securely in place, she closed the file and then quietly slipped into a corner as the officer she’d spoken to earlier walked by accompanied by another Sailor. As they arrived at the station where she had been sitting, she slipped out the door and down the corridor.
Mission accomplished. Almost.
***
Freed from the confinement of the brig, Caitlin prepared herself to meet General Hollis. She had barely stepped out the door before receiving the notice Hollis wanted to see her ASAP. Still hurt and angry, she wondered how things could get any worse.
“Chief Warrant Officer Driskoll reporting as ordered, ma’am.” Caitlin spoke into the com beside General Hollis’ door.
The lock to the door clicked, opening it. She pushed it ajar and walked inside. Carefully closing the door behind her, Caitlin then stood at attention. The general’s quarters were just as she remembered when she and Beller had visited for their briefings as team leads. Its rich, dark décor and lush furniture was a nice change from the dull gray of the rest of the ship. From the corner of her eye, she could see the closed-circuit monitoring system, showing various areas of the ship that ensured the general kept her focus on all things.
“Thank you, Chief, for coming.” Neatly coiffed, wearing a dress-green uniform with a row of ribbons on her chest, Hollis had the brand of the Blanchard all over her. It was as if she carried its history on her shoulders. Caitlin could tell it was and would always be her home.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Hollis approached her with a short saunter, her arms nestled firmly behind her. She looked older than Caitlin remembered.
“Please sit,” she offered gesturing to the sofa across from a wingback chair in which she sat. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” Caitlin responded.
“How are you?”
“I am well, thank you.”
“Your team is faring well?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Everything is going smoothly on the ship for you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The hairs on her neck rose. The first time she served under the general’s command, she was just a number. Hollis had taken no personal interest in her at all. And now, all of sudden, she desired a personal meeting? This was not a good sign. Anytime a CO called a subordinate in for a personal meeting it was either for a disciplinary measure or approbation. Since she didn’t see any smiles on the woman’s face, she was sure it was the former. Bracing herself, Caitlin waited for the axe to drop.