Another shrug. A flicker of a charming smile.
Halliwell gave a slow nod. “How did you find out about it, I mean about the misinformation campaign?”
He would admit to being impressed she’d made the connection between the second suicide bomb attempt and insurgent tactics in Iraq. And chagrined he hadn’t thought of it himself. It had taken the insurgents time to adapt their tactics, as the Americans learned to block their moves. But the second bomb attempt hadn’t been a reaction. It had been part of the plan. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that terrorists in this galaxy could come up with the same plan as terrorists in their galaxy. It did stretch credibility, though, considering any type of terrorism was new to the galaxy. Her elegant brows rose. It was kind of relief that it was both of them. Just one would have been too Spock.
“It’s what I do.”
It wasn’t enough, and he let her know that with a look.
“I look, I listen, I gather information, I find patterns, connections, and put them together to create hypothesis, then I try to find out if I’m right.”
She didn’t mention using lethal means and neither did he. It still shocked him that she was the Chameleon. It had taken his superiors the better part of his refit to get the Major to agree to her deployment on the Doolittle and then only because she was already doing a job onboard the Nimitz. The Major didn’t like his asset being so far out of his control. He’d pretended he didn’t know about his sealed orders, hoping to find out what skin the Major had in the game, but if she knew, she hid it well.
Was her disclaimer sincere or SOP? While Dr. Smith couldn’t have known about the Chameleon, his description of the needed skill-set to bring them home had led them to the Major and this asset.
“How would you find out about my information problem? You weren’t in the galaxy when it started.” In a small way it helped to know it wasn’t limited to his ship, since he’d been on Earth for refit since the end of the battle two years ago, but it still pissed him off.
Her lashes swept down, a pause and then they rose. “I got curious. Hacked into the Doolittle’s computers. Tracked some transmissions. Once I knew what to look for, it wasn’t that hard.”
Ire did a comeback. “Into mine?” He could almost see her consider whether to tell him the truth.
“I needed to know, sir.”
She made insubordinate seem reasonable. He wanted to stay pissed, but why bust her chops for taking a short cut to knowledge when he was the beneficiary?
He rubbed his face. “I hear what you’re saying, Doc, but you don’t know him like I do.”
“You think I’m naïve.” Now she sounded amused.
She couldn’t work for the Major and be naïve. He knew that. “I think you like Giddioni. I think that might cloud your mental clarity.”
Color tinted her cheeks, but her gaze stayed fixed on his. “I’m sure he’d come after me without blinking if he knew my mission. He’s ruthless and clever. He’d have to be to keep his position, to do what he did during the war with the Dusan, to lead the counter insurgent Ojemba.”
She hadn’t denied liking Giddioni. “And you want me to let him, or his people on my outpost?”
The first hint of frustration broke through her calm. “It suits him to have you controlling the outpost right now.”
“And you know this how?”
“They have more ships and men than we do. He could have taken it any time the last year.”
She had a point.
“So why hasn’t he?”
She shrugged. “I can think of several reasons, but I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.”
Could have fooled him. Felt like she was browsing through his at will. The quiet reason in her voice made frustration spike again. “Share a few. It’s not so obvious to me.”
“If you’d been properly briefed it would.”
Halliwell gave her his Look.
“The bombing targeted the alliance and both of you. Maybe there’s an internal power struggle he’s dealing with. Lots of unrest in the galaxy. Could be he thinks it’s better for him if people are pissed at us and not the Gadi.” She frowned. “Has to be a point when that won’t work. And he can’t afford to let us figure out the tech, or he’ll piss off his people and lose the leadership.”
“So you think he thinks we can’t do it?”
“I don’t know what he thinks, sir.” She gave him a mildly exasperated look. “He might believe no one can do it. Even if we never figured out the bulk of the technology, what has been unlocked is remarkable enough to want to control. No question that securing the outpost would solidify his credentials with his people in an election cycle.”
“Which is when?”
“Not clear. Soon, I think.”
“So I pretend to give them access because he’s our best ally until he decides he’s not?”
“You can’t pretend. It’s not like you won’t know when he makes his move.” A pause. “And you need to tell him about our people.” This in the cool, neutral tone again.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Sir.” She rubbed between her brows, the crack in her calm oddly endearing. “Him understanding your motives would be useful for a couple of reasons.”
“And they are?” He was still skeptical, though he could admit, she’d impressed him—which was what she’d intended.
“If he understands that your goal is to get your people back, he’ll learn something important.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“He learns that you won’t be easily dislodged. He has to know how we feel about leaving people behind.” She stared at him for a long moment. “He’s seen how we fight, that we don’t give up. Information about the capabilities of the outpost has been controlled. He knows some, but not all it can do. If he commits to this war, before we get our people back, we might not go quietly back to our own galaxy. Maybe he is afraid we’ve figured out more than he knows. He could attack and we could hold our ground. He has to know that there won’t be a second chance to be friends. He has to know that would cut him off from—”
“—the Key will never return to this galaxy, no matter what he thinks he knows.” It was his turn to rub his face. “You think he’s still hoping?”
“A belief in the power of the Key is deeply buried in their myths and psyche, sir. A return of the Key is tied to peace in this galaxy.”
“If I let them on the outpost, they’ll find out what it can do.”
“They’ll know what they suspected all along. That it is impressive and challenging.”
“What if it makes him want it more?”
She sighed. “He wants it bad, sir. Not sure he can want it more.”
Halliwell released breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “He’s a devious bastard.”
“Yes.”
“But you still like him.”
Her eyes widened. She shrugged.
“And the Major?”
“He doesn’t like us to get attached.”
Halliwell almost smiled at that. That wasn’t what he’d asked and she knew it, but he didn’t push the issue. “You shouldn’t get attached to Giddioni either.”
“I don’t get attached, sir.” A flicker of a smile, then she sobered, her gaze connecting with his appeared filled with resolve. “You’ve got to buy me more time to do what I was sent here to do.”
“I’ll talk to him.” It embarrassed the General to sound so sulky. He took some satisfaction from the fact that the Leader was under attack from his people, too, though he shouldn’t feel this way if she were right and Giddioni was the only thing stopping a war. Just how vulnerable was the Leader? He wanted to be well clear of Gadi space if things went south. “What will you do?”
“I need to get to the outpost, sooner rather than later.”
He nodded. This was a plan he could get behind. The people they’d lost through the portal haunted him. “I’ll assign a driver—”
“I can drive
myself.”
He started to frown. He didn’t send his people out alone.
“I’d rather keep my departure low key. I fixed it so that the infirmary staff thinks I’m back with the diplomats, and the diplomats think I’m still in the infirmary.”
“You already planned to leave the ship? Before you knew what I wanted?”
She didn’t sigh, but he could tell it was a near thing. She gave a slight shrug.
“But you couldn’t know what I wanted.”
“I didn’t have to know what. I knew where.”
She was right. She was a bit creepy.
“And if someone presses to talk to you?” Like the Leader.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something, sir.”
She frowned, considering things he couldn’t begin to suss out. Her waters ran still and deep.
“I already set up a paper trail.”
“Why?” If they had a traitor or traitors on board he didn’t want her exposed to them.
“Outpost security won’t let me stroll into the secure areas with my current ID, but I made sure the trail was muddy.” That almost smile flickered on her face again. “No one tracks me that I don’t want, sir.”
“I believe you,” he said, dryly. He wasn’t sure he trusted her yet, but he did believe her.
“It is how I earn my pay, pitiful as it is.”
This time the grin stayed put long enough for him to study it. She wasn’t just young, she was lovely. How did she manage to hide that?
“Is there anything you don’t do?” His almost indulgent tone surprised the hell out of him. She worried him, though he shouldn’t feel that way, knowing who she was, who she worked for. When was the last time anyone had her back—if they ever had? And with the sympathy, came the question: Was she playing him? How would he know?
She thought for a minute. “Windows? I always streak them.”
“Anyone in ship who is likely to notice you’re gone?”
“Just Briggs. I’m his dance partner.”
If she’d told him that first, they’d have got along better and faster. No one got anything past Briggs. Not that he trusted her yet. The Chameleon could fool Briggs, too.
“He’ll know anyway. He’s the person we need to get your ride.” Briggs had a couple of the Garradian ships they’d pirated parts from before the war. An unofficial craft would be a good choice for an unofficial trip.
“You have a devious mind, sir. I like that.”
That explained why she liked the Leader. He scowled, thinking of the upcoming meeting.
“Best get it over with quickly.”
She had to be a mind reader, despite her protestations. He gave her a look. It bounced off.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve sat down with the enemy and played nice. And try to remember that, whatever he did two years ago, anything you’ve heard since isn’t necessarily true.”
“Most of it probably is.” He had another thought. “Doesn’t it bother you he has all those wives?”
She even had an answer for that. Her explanation of Gadi mating practices interested him, though he wished they didn’t.
“I hope they all give him hell.”
“I’m sure they do, sir.” She paused, her expression turning serious. “About your leak…”
“I want to know names, Doctor. I want to know who gave our C-4 and insurgent tactics to terrorists. And who’s been feeding me false information.” And he didn’t want any damn qualifications or excuses. She was on his turf now and she’d damn well deliver. What he was asking was possible.
She came to military attention with a jerk. “Yes, sir. If you’ll check your computer, I did make a start. As far as I can tell right now, it’s limited to the diplomatic corps, though it’s not clear who all is involved yet. You’ll need help from the Leader with the Gadi connection, though I did mark some interesting video for you to look at.”
“It’s been three days since the bombing, Doc.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m not usually so slow. I’ll try not to let it happen again, sir.”
Slow? He looked forward to seeing what she could do when her time wasn’t cluttered up with a bomb and patients. His nod was short, but approving. “You’re dismissed.”
She saluted, then turned with military precision and headed for the door.
“Doc?” It wasn’t relevant, but he was curious. “What’s your rank?”
Her hand on the door, she gave a half shrug. “Must not be impressive. The Major is always pulling his on me.”
“You don’t know?” How was that possible?
“It’s not need to know.”
“Bastard.”
An almost smile twitched the edges of her mouth. “Didn’t realize you’d met him, sir.”
No reason to wonder why she and Sara Donovan were friends.
* * * * *
Hel looked around the small healing room, not looking for forgotten items. He’d arrived with just the clothes he’d been wearing and he hadn’t accumulated much since. There was nothing to forget but the drab colors and Delilah. He had a sinking feeling that both would be difficult to get out of his head.
Whatever illusions he’d had about a casual encounter with her had been burned up in the heat of the kiss they’d shared in her office. Something in him had shifted when his mouth had covered hers. He could, he would shift it back. Helfron Giddioni would not allow his destiny to be ruled by a woman, no matter how interesting she might be.
His mind was adamant on the subject, his body not so much.
He wanted her. This was not a surprise. He’d wanted her since the moment he’d seen her at the reception. If circumstances had been normal, he’d have pursued an alliance mating with her and satisfied his craving, put it in its proper place and moved on, but the General would never agree. Beyond Halliwell’s dislike, was the reality that Delilah was not just a woman within the Earth expedition, she was a resource.
She’d been brought to this galaxy for a reason. Hel felt this to his core, though the reason was obscured by Delilah herself. She was multi-faceted, constantly shifting, dangerously clever and, he conceded, the female version of himself. Was that her appeal? Was it just a need to assert his dominance?
The thought was almost a relief. It was something he could live with. It would, he decided, be good for him to get off his vessel and back into his normal life. This place, these people—Delilah—threatened his certainty that he had his world, his life, under control. No, not them, the bombing had done this. He would give no ground, not inside his head or in his life. He turned toward the door, determined to leave.
General Halliwell was the last person Hel expected to see in the opening. Even more surprising, he entered and shut the door behind him. When Halliwell crossed his arms over his barrel of a chest, it was almost a relief. That was normal.
“Can I help you, General?” Hel rose to his feet, meeting the power play with one of his own. His senses were tingling with warning. If the General wanted him dead, now was the time to do it.
“I will support your request for access to the Kikk outpost. Assign someone you trust to liaise with my security officer and start picking a team.”
Just like that. Hel studied his face, looking for the deception, the trick. The General had fought this from the moment the outpost had been located. He could not, he would not, concede without a good reason.
“You are serious.” Hel didn’t make it a question, though it was one.
“I am.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve given orders to start transferring your people to your medical facilities. I understand they are ready to receive the wounded?”
Hel nodded, still wary.
“Send me your people’s ETA when you know it.” His gaze bored into Hel for a long moment. “The recent bombing was a failure of both our security efforts.”
“Yes.” This was a concession he hadn’t expected. He’d been sure the General would use it as another reason to keep them out. He wanted to as
k what had changed, but the General wouldn’t tell him. At the moment, it was enough to know he felt partially culpable for the incident.
The hard gaze studied him again. His nod was short and sharp. “I’m going to arrange secure, direct communication. For now, I’d prefer to bypass the diplomats.”
Hel’s eyes widened at that. “They are the bane of my existence as well.” It was illegal, of course, but legal contact hadn’t worked. Hel was willing to take the risk. This might, just might, be enough to stave off war. Then again, his unofficial sources were sending him some very disturbing reports about power brokering on the Gadi ruling council. He didn’t need those warnings to feel a chill down his back. He’d allowed himself to linger, to get distracted; now it was time to refocus on his political priorities.
“You’re leaving for Kikk soon?” His tone was curious, none of the anxiety he felt bleeding through into his words. He didn’t think his enemies would make another try at the General or his ship, but he hadn’t expected the attack at the reception either. His world had changed. He needed to start expecting the unexpected. Hel believed he still controlled most of the fleet, but that could change if his supporters thought he was too weak to lead.
It would be interesting to see the next move, assuming he survived his arrival on the planet. He’d survived worse than this, but he would take nothing for granted. He’d already begun to make discreet arrangements for the safety of his mother and sons, not that his mother would thank him for it.
“As soon as your people are dirt side,” the General said, his hard gaze hitting Hel’s.
Hel held his gaze as he said, “That is wise.”
The General’s eyes widened, signaling the warning had been received.
Hel thought he’d leave but he stood there, letting the silence build.
“Was there something else, General?”
“We have some people missing.”
The words sounded forced, unlike the General. Hel felt like he’d missed something. “Missing? Since when?”
“It happened during the battle with the Dusan.” The General paced toward the door, paused and turned to face him, his hands clasped behind his back. “On the outpost, there are these doors, portals, we call them. You go through and end up—”
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