‘This might sound a tad melodramatic or even paranoid…’ I began.
‘Oh, surely not?’ came a sarcastic female voice. Atria.
‘…but I cannot stress enough, the secrecy of this operation. We don’t know who our opponents are, whether they’re friendly or hostile.’
‘Surely, hostile?’ Flavius looked up. He sounded surprised at having to ask.
‘Well, not necessarily. The thing that bugs me is that Aidan isn’t dead.’
‘True,’ Flavius said. ‘That’s quite strange, even benevolent.’
‘Precisely. Given the level of threatened violence and the opponents’ professionalism, it’s illogical.’
‘We’re not crossing somebody else’s operation, are we?’ Flavius asked.
‘Not that we can see,’ confirmed Daniel from the side. ‘We’ve checked the whole spectrum, other agencies, everything. Absolutely nothing on the joint watch net. Intel are running a box at the moment, tracking everything at home and office. Maybe they’ll come up with something.’
Somebody snorted.
‘We don’t know if they’re foreign or home-grown,’ I added. ‘But from what I saw and heard in Aidan’s office, my money’s on home-grown.’ I caught some angry looks at that. If the bad guys were so competent, they could only have come from within the intelligence or law enforcement communities.
‘Gods, this is a blind one,’ said Atria.
‘Totally.’ Just that word unsettled my audience. None of us was used to this. We practised scenarios concentrating on the fundamentals, banking the experience so that when the tactical situation fell apart, as it did on occasion, and you didn’t have time to think about what to do, the training clicked in automatically. We trained hard to make drills mirror operations to the extent that live operations ran like drills, but with added intensity, sometimes regrettably with blood. We knew how each other thought, so could adapt fluently when the situation was different from the intel to hand before the start of an operation. Here, the problem was that we had nothing to hand apart from the plan of Hirenses Associates’ offices.
‘Right,’ I said, ‘let’s pull this together. Firstly, no breath of this operation to anybody outside this room. We act as if we are running a training session. Although we have a go from the legate, this operation does not exist.’ No reaction.
‘Next, I’ve drawn up a plan with allotted tasks.’ I messaged their el-pads. The puzzlement in their eyes changed to concentration as they read and absorbed their instructions.
‘So, Phase I must be completed by tomorrow afternoon; reports by 16.00, please. Those not already in the field meet outside the back practice room tomorrow at 17.00 when we will appear to go for a run in the woods with suitably filled backpacks. If there are no other questions, we’ll break until tomorrow.’ I turned to Novius. ‘Nov, I’d like you to stay, please.’
They pulled themselves out of their seats and left. I smiled my thanks at Daniel, and he went off to find out if Intel had uncovered anything.
‘Right, Nov, how do you see this working? Tell me what you need.’
‘Well, you know this instant cut-off you want, we can—’
A knock at the door. I grabbed the pyramid and shoved it in my pocket.
‘...so that’s how I see the new equipment for the team,’ he concluded in a slightly tense voice as the quaestor strode in.
‘Sorry to interrupt, Captain, you seem to have an outage. I’ve been trying to contact you for the past thirty minutes.’ He didn’t look at all sorry and glared when I didn’t react. ‘I need to test your comms unit,’ he growled. ‘Now.’
‘Quaestor, we are in the middle of a meeting here.’
‘The quicker I test it then the quicker you can resume your meeting.’
‘Of course, I would be delighted to cooperate and support your efficient approach,’ I said. ‘Will my equipment requisition be treated with equal dispatch?’
‘Humph!’
He scanned my ear and mouth units. He grunted and left with the same grace as when he’d arrived, not quite closing the door. I just hoped he didn’t need to scan anybody else who’d been at our meeting and see the same outage: using a pyramid within the Praetorian building was forbidden. I pushed the door closed and jammed a folded wedge of flipchart paper under the lower edge.
‘Right, Nov, let’s have a look at your ideas,’ I resumed, pyramid back on the table.
VIII
Everything was in place. I hoped Aidan could hold out. I thought about calling by as Amaelia the jogger, but she wasn’t due for another couple of days (and with the infamous Decima). I could go back to the old stand-bys: pizza delivery, neighbour seeking help, courier drop-off. But Intel were watching and I didn’t want to cross their operation.
Back home, I went for a swim. We had a beautiful pool in the basement. Irrationally, I regarded it as my personal property and, more rationally, tried to use it every day. The hypnotic rhythm of length after length, back and forth, in the warm, moist atmosphere settled my thoughts as well as calming my body. Water flowing intimately over my skin always gave me physical pleasure. Dappled light dancing on the mosaic walls enhanced the seductive dream-like ambiance in the pool area. I felt myself blending with the water and drifting…
My semi-stupor was broken by a discreet cough.
‘Sorry to interrupt you, lady, but the Countess would like us to meet in half an hour’s time to discuss the family day.’
Crap. I swam over to the edge where Junia stood like some implacable messenger from the gods.
‘We’ve postponed it twice.’
Hours of talking nicely to, let’s be honest, fairly boring people who all they shared with you was a name and a few genes. I should have felt ashamed at feeling like that, but didn’t. I tried to stare her out, but she refused to budge.
‘Very well, Junia, you win.’
Sitting in my grandmother’s office, making faces at Helena who’d also been dragged in to help, I tried to be constructive, but it was boring. Nonna and Junia had it zipped up so all we did was drink wine and make rude comments about family members.
‘Where on earth shall we seat Lucius Mitelus Superbus?’ Junia frowned over her table plan.
‘Not next to me!’ No danger, really. I was on the top table and he was a nobody. His wife Valeria was nearer as a second cousin.
‘Nor me,’ squeaked Helena, realising she was much more vulnerable. ‘Gods, if anybody had an appropriate cognomen, it’s him!’ She was right: he thought his branch should be senior with him as head of the family. He was a pretentious, arrogant jerk with bad breath and a creepy smile. Although I knew this social stuff was important to the family’s powerbase, I didn’t need it when I was trying to concentrate on the operation. I yawned.
My grandmother looked down her long nose at me and said briskly, ‘Well, I think we’ll finish for now – Carina Mitela looks as if she is falling asleep. We’d better not disturb her.’
Junia and Helena sat there immobile and silent.
‘I apologise, Nonna, I did not intend to be impolite.’
‘We sometimes have to turn our efforts to less welcome areas and carry out duties towards others which we would rather avoid.’
She frowned at me like Mr Olsen, my high school principal, used to when I’d failed an easy exam. I felt fifteen years old and just as embarrassed.
I was still smarting from my grandmother’s reprimand as I gulped down my coffee. I hated being in the wrong. It overshadowed all the right things you’d done and crippled your judgement of things you still had to do. But she was right. I had a privileged position and needed to pay some attention to the balancing obligations and responsibilities. But I didn’t have to like it.
When I decided I’d beaten myself up for a sufficient time, I went along to the nursery to see the children as they went to bed. Conrad was already there, tickling Tonia’s toes while she giggled hysterically. Around the corner, Allegra was combing her hair in front of her mirror. She stared intently at her reflecti
on; her mouth was set in a straight line. Such a solemn face for a six-year-old. She’d inherited my bright blue eyes, but the red brown hair came from my mother. I picked Gil up, kissed him. He smiled. My heart fluttered. He giggled and burrowed his head into the fold of my arm. Allegra broke her gaze and still carrying Gil, I went through into her room.
‘Hello, darling,’ I said. ‘You look as if you have some serious thoughts in there.’ I stroked her forehead.
‘Great Nonna says I’ll have a long tunic and palla for the family day and must behave myself with grace and decorum. What’s decorum?’
Where to start? I was in no way qualified to answer, but I tried. ‘I see it as doing the right thing, in a polite way, but not allowing yourself to be pushed around by anybody else. But, hey, Allegra, if you do it wrong, just smile. They’ll forgive you.’
Helena looked over at me and frowned.
‘Oh,’ Allegra said, ‘I thought it meant standing there being bored, not saying anything while the grown-ups commented on how much you’d grown.’
I burst out laughing, which set Gil off giggling into my chest. I stroked his soft hair. ‘Well,’ I replied, ‘I’m not very good at it, either. Nonna told me off earlier for not behaving properly.’
Allegra’s eyes came out on stalks. ‘You?’
‘Yes.’ I chuckled. ‘Here’s the thing, Allegra, let’s you and I watch out for each other on the day and make a secret signal to each other if we think the other one is losing it.’
‘Deal,’ she said, using the English word.
‘Deal,’ I confirmed.
When they were all tucked up, passing through drowsiness on the way down to sleep, Helena waved off the light and ushered Conrad and me out .
‘Honestly, you two are a piece. I settle them for bed and you come along and hype them up.’ She waggled her red-lacquered finger melodramatically.
Helena had given up, she said escaped from, teaching other brats and now educated my brats. She said she could shout at them without censure as they were family. This was an act she put on. My children were wonderfully looked after. Allegra delighted everybody she came into contact with. She was quick, and charmed her way into and out of anything she wanted; maybe something to watch as she got older. The twins were just hitting the terrible twos, but Helena was a past mistress of the art of distraction.
She paused, turning to look at me. ‘Are you all right? You seemed only half there this afternoon. Aurelia was really pissed with you.’
I made a face. ‘No, everything’s fine. I just have a difficult training exercise coming up and I have to impress the new legate,’ I said, glancing at Conrad who gave me a little smile. ‘I heard he’s a real horror, so I’m shaking with nerves.’
‘Yeah, right.’
IX
“Catherine MacCarthy” rang Hirenses Associates next morning about her missing umbrella.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Macarti,’ said Sextus after a brief pause, ‘I can’t see one anywhere. Perhaps you left it on the shuttle?’
‘No, dear, I’m sure I had it when I came to see you, and I’ve lost track of it after that.’
He sighed. Silence.
‘Oh, well, I’ll drop in later or tomorrow morning. Please give my love to Aidan.’
I was in the field room checking kit for the operation when a priority message with a caution tag came through from Sepunia. I didn’t know her that well: she’d sat quietly in meetings offering careful supplementary remarks like a good number two when Aburia was giving her reports. For her to use a caution tag was really something, which is why I sauntered down the corridor to Sepunia’s open door in the Intel room like I was on a casual Sunday outing.
‘Salve, Sepunia.’ I knocked on the door frame and smiled. ‘Anything for me to brighten up a dull day?’
‘Hello, Carina, nice of you to drop in. Come in and sit down,’ she chirped at me. We were like a couple of girls sorting out our social calendars. I closed the door and she flicked the smartplex windows to frosted. Her face dropped from bright and breezy to one hundred per cent serious.
‘The surveillance team reports that Aidan is travelling in his normal pattern between home and office,’ she began, ‘but he’s either in the company of, or in direct sight of, a minder. We’ve identified four other definites, plus another two possibles. I can’t confirm the last two, but they appear more frequently than they should if they were the general public.’ Sepunia handed me printouts with photos. ‘I’ve run these images from the public surveillance feed and the box against our database and the custodes one and found no matches.’
‘So who are these guys?’ I studied the images. ‘Wait a minute, they’re all guys – there are no women.’
‘Exactly. How do you think that’s relevant?’
‘Not a clue, but it’s weird, and weird almost always means something. Okay, that’s really helpful. Thanks, Sepunia,’
She looked at me, obvious curiosity in her eyes, but didn’t push it.
Reports came in from about three onwards: Livius was in situ and would remain there until the start; Novius’s framework was ready; Atria was serving coffee with a smile across the road; Flavius had already mended a pipe, taken in mail and cleaned the hallway in Aidan’s office building – the perfect concierge.
We were ready.
By 11.00 the next morning, Aidan was sitting in the PGSF barracks, looking pale, drinking tea and recovering his breath. Both his apartment and office were secure and guarded, a new receptionist installed in his office, and a note on the website about family bereavement.
My report would detail how a middle-aged woman walking awkwardly (those inserts nearly crippling me), accompanied by her attractive niece (Maelia wearing her best spoiled pout), had called at Hirenses Associates earlier that morning, looking for the aunt’s umbrella. The minute after the two women entered the reception area, Sextus, the receptionist, was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. The niece, wearing a figure-hugging, electric blue dress that barely included a skirt, made straight for Aidan’s consulting room. The occupants – Aidan and Caeco – were stunned, momentarily by her smile and body, then by gas. The building security and comms lines had inexplicably blipped, but everything was back on line within three seconds.
The only exciting thing was outside. Two cars had collided. The drivers cursed and threatened each other; it progressed to a full-blown fist fight. One passenger had hysterics, and the coffee shop server ran out to help. A uniformed concierge tried to separate the two fighting drivers. The custodes arrived and arrested everybody they could lay their hands on. A number of people exiting Hirenses Associates were caught up in the custodes’ sweep along with several interested bystanders. Soon after the custody vans disappeared, a car transporter and city cleaning detail cleared up the mess, and the district went back to sleep.
Daniel was waiting for us with a security detail at the Custodes XI Station. Caeco, Sextus and the three bystanders were bundled into a secure vehicle and driven back to the PGSF. We were at the back garage door, about to clamber into an unmarked truck to follow them, when I heard an echo from the past.
‘Ha! I heard a rabble had been brought in, but I didn’t expect it to be this scruffy.’ A tall, bulky figure with a grin breaking up his harsh-featured face stopped in front of me.
‘Hello, Bruna.’
‘Hello, Lurio,’ I replied, grinning back.
‘Love the outfit,’ he snorted. ‘But you’d be so much better out of it.’
Everybody snickered. Daniel looked offended. He didn’t know that Lurio and I had briefly been lovers several years ago.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your team?’
‘Everybody, this is Commander Cornelius Lurio, DJ inner city commander.’ But I signalled them to move out. Shielding their departure, I turned to Lurio. ‘You remember Major Stern from the Pulcheria operation.’ I shot a warning glance at Lurio. Daniel didn’t know the inside secrets from that operation.
‘Yes, of course.’ He sc
anned Daniel’s face, nodded at him. Daniel gave a taut smile. ‘And your other friends…?’
‘Oh, they’re a bit shy.’
‘Well, you’d better get going. We’ll need to give this garage a good sweeping out now.’ His face suddenly dropped into solemn, and he ran his finger down my cheek. ‘Give me a call sometime if you’re ever fed up playing secret soldiers and want to rejoin a proper service.’
‘And up yours, too, Lurio.’
He burst out laughing.
‘What the hell was that about?’
‘Just a bit of inter-service banter,’ I said. ‘You know we worked together at the Department of Justice when I was a custos in his section.’
‘Yes, well. But he—’
‘Just keep your eyes on the road, Daniel!’
Surprisingly, we reached the PGSF barracks in one piece. I went down to the custody area to brief the Interrogation Service team who were to deal with Caeco, Sextus and the three bystanders. IS had already run the three against Sepunia’s images. So we’d missed one, possibly two other bad guys. I batted the wave of irritation away. They’d have gone to ground by now. Maybe the IS would sweat the names out from the three we’d bagged.
I heard Paula’s low voice at my side, asking if I wanted to start Aidan’s interview now.
‘Yes, let’s do it. You and me in the room; Atria and Flav to observe.’
A quick glance through the observation panel before we went in. This was the “friendly” interview room, furnished with two couches set at right angles to each other, a low table, two easy chairs and the standard water cooler. Bland chocolate-box pictures hung on three walls, a plain mirror on the fourth. The remains of a sandwich lay on a plate, and Aidan clutched a mug in his hand. Shoulders slumped, he was staring into the far distance as if his eyes had lost the ability to focus.
He jumped when we came through the door, spilling some of his drink on his pants. His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed hard and he switched his gaze between Paula and me. And then the apprehension in his eyes changed to something else – surprise.
Perfiditas Page 6