Moving Target

by Melissa Good

  "But you bought their pitch hook, line and sinker." Mike reminded her. "They played you good."

  Michelle shrugged. "Just as good as Quest played us all."

  "Excuse me," Graham spoke up at last. "What is it we intend to do about this?" he asked. "It is almost end of the day. We are not complete in these projects, and it is all apparently to no purpose."

  Now, here was the tough part. Dar glanced at Kerry, and raised her brows slightly, the invitation implicit in the motion.

  Good nerd, bad nerd? "Well, we had an idea." Kerry gamely went forward. "We thought that this whole thing was apparently designed to get on film a knock down drag out fight to the finish, right?"

  "Yeah," Shari agreed. "Preferably with the good guys winning."

  "Define good guys," Mike muttered.

  "So, what if no one wins?" Kerry asked. "What if it's a tie? What if we all join together and level the playing field, and just make sure everyone finishes successfully."

  Momentary silence. "What the hell would that do?" Mike asked.

  "Screw them over," Shari said, bluntly.

  Graham rubbed his face with one hand. "You are telling me that we should help each other? Why should we trust you?" He indicated both sets of women. "Why should we trust any of you? You've been cat-fighting each other for weeks. Now you are standing here, and you want us all to work together? It's insanity!"

  Kerry glanced past them to the admin building. She spotted Cruickshank emerging with Quest, both of them looking around. "Uh oh."

  Dar focused on what she was looking at. "We're out of time," she said. "Listen, I don't really give a crap if you trust us or not. The fact is we're done."

  "But powerless." Michelle interrupted her.

  "No." Dar shook her head. "We have power. I could have just grabbed the jackass over there and been done with this if I wanted to." She stood up as Quest discovered them. "So here's the plan. We go to our areas, and whatever you need done, call me. If you had your crews bought out from under you, I'll send people. Got a technical problem? We'll find a way to fix it. We've got two hours."

  They only had seconds to decide. Quest and Cruickshank were headed their way.

  "Call you." Mike looked like his head was going to explode. "This is nuts, Dar."

  "Lose or tie. Pick one, but do it now," Dar said, as she already started to edge away from the group.

  "We're in," Michelle said, briskly. "Expect my call about our satellite."

  "All right." Mike scowled. "I'll need techs." He backed off and checked his watch, then turned and hurried off, breaking into a jog toward the pier his ship was in.

  Graham stuck his hands in his pockets. "Not sure you can help us," he commented mildly. "We're short a bit of gear--supplier ran out."

  Kerry cleared her throat, loudly. "Hey, Michelle?"

  Michelle had halfway turned around to beat a hasty retreat, then turned back around to face him. "Call me." She lifted a hand, and then turned again, heading off in the opposite direction.

  Dar and Kerry were left alone to face the music. Kerry suspected it would be an exceptionally tuneless polka, and she decided maybe retreat was a better option. "C'mon, Dar. We've got stuff to do." She took hold of her partner's arm and started tugging.

  "Roberts!" Quest yelled.

  "Ms. Roberts." Cruickshank moved to intercept them. "Wait...I've got some questions for you!"

  "Dar, we better get out of here. Anything we say could blow it." Kerry uttered.

  "Right." Dar lifted a hand. "Sorry. We've got work to do." She turned and urged Kerry ahead of her, heading down the strip of grass that bordered the seawall.

  "Stop! Roberts! Get back here!" Quest called. "Stop!"

  "Glad the wind's so noisy." Kerry broke into a trot, then a jog. "Did you hear anything?"

  "Nope." Dar loped next to her. "Not a damn thing."

  "Me either."

  "Roberts! God damn it! Stop!"

  Don't like it when someone else takes charge, eh? Dar smiled grimly as she let the echoes fade behind her. Well buddy, get used to it.

  KERRY WAS STANDING in the raised middle platform; the central figure in a sea of milling techs. The front doors to the pier building were locked, though she thought she'd seen one of the camera crews loitering around outside a moment ago. "Okay folks, listen up."

  There was a palpable air of anticipation in the room. Mark leaned on the counter she was standing behind, a look of almost smug triumph on his face. "It took a lot of busting ass, but damn if we didn't do it, huh boss?"

  Yikes. Kerry now faced a completely different dilemma. They'd pushed their team to the limit, and the guys and gals hadn't disappointed them. Now she had to tell them that basically, their efforts had been for pretty much naught. "Guys, I've got something a little difficult to explain here."

  Her team settled down and looked up at her trustingly. Kerry had a moment of flashback, to the day she'd stood in front of a very different team for a very different reason, with much the same looks directed back at her.

  Then, she'd saved them from unemployment, and in the process saved herself from going back to a life of oppression at home. This time? Well, this time, she just had to tell them she'd led them down a slightly crooked path. Not really so bad, was it?

  "First off, I want to thank you all for all the killer work you've done over the past week," Kerry said. "I appreciate it, Dar appreciates it, and not least, the company appreciates it. You made it all happen."

  Everyone grinned.

  "However." Kerry leaned on the counter, giving them all a very wry look. "There were some things going on here that we didn't know about."

  "Uh oh," Mark said.

  "So, the bottom line is, now that we've gotten our stuff done, we need to help everyone else get theirs done too."

  Everyone stared at her, jaws dropping open a little. It would have been comical if Kerry wasn't so conscious of the minutes ticking away. "Guys, please just trust me on this one. I'll explain later, but we're almost out of time. I need to split up some teams, and send you all over to the other ships."

  Mark covered his eyes with one hand. "Ohmyfriggengod."

  "Holy crap." Carlos blurted. "We're going to help them now?"

  "Yep." Kerry shifted a few pieces of paper. "Once we all finish, I can tell you the rest of the story. It's quite a story. But Dar wanted me to let you all know--despite what we're going to have to do--the only real winners in this entire shebang are standing right here in this room."

  The techs fell silent, the buzz in the room dying out as they absorbed the compliment.

  "We are the best. We proved that." Kerry went on. "Now, we have to take it a step further, and take this project to a different level. So," she exhaled, "let's get going. Grab yourselves a pop, and your gear, and I'll call out names in a minute."

  The techs stirred, and started moving. Mark waited for some space to clear, then he propped his chin up on his fist. "Um, Kerry?"

  "I know." Kerry held a hand up. "Just go with it, Mark. The whole thing's a farce."

  "Huh?"

  "It's fake. It's a whitewash. It's not real. The ships aren't going to sail anywhere. It was just one big charade for the cameras."

  "No shit?"

  "Ma'am?"

  Kerry turned to find their security guard standing there. "Yes?"

  "Those people at the door are not taking no for an answer." The guard pointed. "They're starting to get real mad." Past him, Kerry could see the filming crew, Cruickshank, Quest, and others all clustered near the door, banging on it. "Yikes."

  "Whoa." Mark blinked.

  "Take this list and get these guys over to the ship in slot 12." Kerry handed Mark a piece of paper. "Hurry, and whatever happens, tell everyone not to say anything to anyone about what we're doing. Just keep quiet."

  "Huh?"

  "Mark, we've been in the dark for weeks. Now it's our turn to pull one over on these people." Kerry told him. "Got me?"

  Mark hesitated, then grinned sheep
ishly. "Not a clue boss, but if you say shut up, no problem." He took the paper and scanned it. "Okay!" His voice rose. "Following names get your asses over here!"

  Right. Kerry ran a hand through her hair. "Okay." She faced the guard. "Let me just get a mouthful of something and I'll go take care of those guys. They say what they want?"

  "Ms. Roberts." The guard supplied promptly.

  "Well, there you go. She's not here." Kerry gratefully accepted a bottle of grape soda from Carlos. "Thank you." She took a sip of the cold beverage and considered what she was going to tell the reporters. A grin crossed her face, and she chuckled a little. "You want a story? All right. I'll give you one."

  She stepped down from the platform and headed for the door. "Time for you to chase your tails."

  DAR DUCKED BEHIND a container, watching as one of the filming crews hurried past her toward the entrance to Michelle and Shari's pier building. She slunk out after them and waited for them to pass the crew gangway, then she scooted up the metal walk and into the ship's hold.

  It was dingy, smelly, and as ratty looking as theirs was, only it was painted slate gray inside rather than the worn blue she was used to. There also seemed to be fewer rust stains on the steel plate walls.

  Other than that, same old, same old. A few crewmembers were morosely shoving boxes around, and they glanced at her as she entered. After a moment's interest, they returned to their tasks, apparently having seen enough.

  Hm. Should she feel insulted or grateful? Grateful, she decided with a nod, as she edged past two men carrying a large crate that gave off a scent of burnished copper.

  What would happen to them? Dar wondered. If this entire thing was a farce, then all their hopes would have been raised for nothing. She paused inside the door and looked at the crewmen, seeing something in their attitude that made her realize that they'd never been fooled at all.

  They'd known all along. In fact, Dar remembered, some of the crew on her own ship had even told her, but she'd been too focused to really listen.

  Damn. When she sat back and looked at it, how much of this farce had been there in front of her all along? How much of her attention had been distracted to the point where she'd almost missed it all?

  Ah well. Dar knew she had to shrug it off, since there was no way to go back and change it. At least now she did know what was going on, and was doing something about it. Better late than never?

  Something like that.

  She thought that the bridge and the mounting point for the satellite system would be in relatively the same place as theirs, and so she started up the steps two at a time. On the way up, she passed a few more of the crew, who brushed by her without much interest and kept going.

  Nice guys. Dar reached the main deck and left the crew stairwell, crossing through a propped open watertight door, and entered the atrium. Unlike her ship, this one seemed to be in a little better condition, and the crew on this deck was busy polishing the brass railings and doing other cleaning chores.

  One of the women behind the reception desk looked up as Dar headed for the main stairs. "Well, hello there," she called out, in an almost cheerful tone. "You're new."

  Dar gave her a brief smile and a half wave.

  "Smashing shorts!"

  Ah. Ugh. "Thanks." Dar wished for the stair landing, wanting to be out of the woman's line of sight. Kerry told her not to wear the damn shorts, and Kerry had been right, as she usually was. How could she really expect anyone to take her seriously when she dressed like a half assed redneck?

  Jesus. Dar sighed as she rounded the stairs and headed upward. I really do need to get the hell out of here. My head's so screwed up I'm going to sink the goddamned company if I don't. With that somewhat daunting thought on her mind, she jogged up the steps, dodging several officers strolling in the other direction.

  The hallways were empty up on the top deck, though. She headed down one long, long corridor freshly laid with carpet, shaking her head at the seemingly pointless expense. Ahead of her, she spotted the locked door that on her ship lead to the bridge and she headed for it, wondering if banging on it hard enough would eventually gain her entry.

  Fortunately, she didn't have to. As she came within a body length of it, the door opened and Michelle's head appeared. "Ah." Michelle spotted her. "Just who I was about to go looking for. Kerry said you were heading here."

  Not exactly what Kerry had thought, regardless of what she'd said, Dar reckoned. "Here I am." She agreed. "Let's get going. The damn reporters are crawling all over the pier."

  "I know I saw them." Michelle held the door open. "This way."

  Dar followed her through the senior officer's hallway, noticing that this ship, at least, had retained quite a bit of its glitzy interior. The walls were paneled in wood, and the carpet was new and expensive looking.

  They stopped in front of a door that Michelle shoved open. Inside was the cramped communications center. This room was pretty much identical to the one on Dar's vessel. She entered, ducking around a rack of satellite gear to find two men standing in front of the console, frustration apparent in their faces.

  "God damn it, Steve...I've already tried that."

  "Yeah, but did you get those guys on the phone with you? They said they had a fix for this." The shorter of the two men retorted. "I think they're full of crap, but if you don't have them do it, they won't admit they're wrong.'

  Dar took a moment to examine the equipment, as she listened to them argue. It was more or less the same as what she was using on the other ship, but there seemed to her to be too much of it. She turned and regarded Michelle with a single cocked eyebrow. "Three routers?" she asked, lowering her voice.

  Michelle held her hand up. "We paid to have a network design engineer come in here and give us the definitive solution. That's what he gave us." She edged away from the two men, and motioned Dar to follow her.

  Amiably, Dar did. "He gave you cat crap on a stick." Dar advised her. "Let me guess...did he work for the hardware vendor?"

  Michelle nodded.

  "And you didn't catch on to him wanting to sell pointless hardware to you?"

  Michelle sighed. "Sometimes you have to trust the experts." She looked pointedly at Dar. "Like now, for instance. So since we're short on time, mind rolling out your brain cells and dusting that possibly redundant hardware with them?"

  "Kennel your puppies." Dar returned the banter, and turned, standing back and waiting for Michelle to clear the riffraff out of the way. She spotted a laptop and went over to it, flipping it open and reviewing the screen, as well as the cable that connected the back of it to the equipment rack.

  "Hey." One of the men finally noticed the scruffy vagabond in their midst. "Can I help you?"

  Michelle took him by the arm. "Not even if I bought you an Einstein injection, kiddo. Take your buddy and go find some ice cream somewhere, hum?"

  "But, ma'am," Steve protested, pointing at Dar who had already oozed into position in front of the gear and was pecking at the laptop contentedly. "Who is that?"

  "Shoo." Michelle gave him a gentle push toward the door to the communications room.

  "But..."

  "Shoo."

  Dar smiled, as she got to work, getting into the configuration of the equipment and studying what it was supposed to be doing. She typed a command and reviewed the results, frowning and shaking her head a little. "Jesus."

  Michelle had taken a position up around the corner of the rack, where she could watch without standing on top of Dar. "That doesn't sound good." She glanced at the small porthole in the room. "And we're running out of time."

  "Well." Dar stepped back and looked at the rack. "I could spend a few hours untangling that configuration."

  "We don't have a few hours."

  "I know." Dar reached for the cables in the rear of the rack and started ripping them out in handfuls. "So I guess I'll do it the easy way."

  Michelle covered her eyes. "Oh crap." She sighed. "It took that guy four days to put that
stuff in."

  Dar snorted, finishing ripping out the cabling and ending her destructive activity, only to dive into the laptop with a piratical chuckle as she reset everything to its defaults. "Look at it this way. It wasn't working."

  Michelle sat on the edge of one of the desks, rubbing the back of her neck. "Yeah, that's true," she muttered. "Story of my life lately. Nothing's working."

  With her back turned, Dar was sure her widening eyes were hidden from view. She hoped against hope that Michelle's comment wasn't the beginning of a sensitive chat because she knew that definitely was not her forte--at all.

  So she kept her nose in the screen, starting the configuration of the main unit as she tried to assemble a new design on the fly and crossed her fingers she wasn't going to have to call Kerry for help.

  "HI." KERRY SLIPPED through the front door and closed it behind her, facing the reporters with a neatly dredged up pleasant smile. "What can I do for you folks?"

  Cruickshank was caught by surprise. She'd been banging on the door and had turned away to come up with some better method of getting attention and hadn't expected Kerry to come out. "Well, ah, yes. Ms. Stuart. Right."

  "That's me." Kerry agreed.

  "Well, thanks for the offer, but we're really looking for your boss," Cruickshank said.

  "Really? Me too."

  "What?"

  "Me too." Kerry drew the woman aside and lowered her voice. "She's missing. I can't find her. After we got back from being at sea, she disappeared."

  It was the last thing the reporter expected. "But, I saw her with you not twenty minutes ago!"

  Kerry didn't miss a beat. "That was after we got back," she said. "Anyway, if you find her, can you let me know? The hyperbaric thermoelectric generator she built is giving us a little problem. I think it needs adjusting."

  "The what?"

  "Well, we had to get power somehow," Kerry told her. "Dar didn't want to wait for the ship to fix it. We're coming up on a deadline here."

  Cruickshank collected herself. "Uh, okay. So, let me make sure I understand you right . You mean to tell me Ms. Roberts..."

  "Please, call her Dar. She hates formality."