by Jay Allan
Nearly a kilometer away from each other they had the same thought…Erik Cain…what the hell did he pull off now?
“Hang on, Jake. I’ve got incoming orders.”
“Yes, sir.” Carlson’s stomach tensed, and the relief he’d been feeling drained away. He wasn’t sure why…he just had a bad feeling.
Brown was only gone a few seconds. “Jake, I’m back.” There was a pause, a long one. “I’ve got orders for you…”
Carlson listened quietly, but he knew what was coming. He could tell from Brown’s voice. His stomach clenched the rest of the way, and he could feel the sweat building up around his neck. He could hear the words before Brown even uttered them.
“Pursue the enemy. Attack.”
Chapter 24
Alliance Intelligence HQ
Washbalt Metroplex
US Region, Western Alliance, Earth
Alex sat quietly at the conference table, seething with anger but hiding it well. She was alone, but she knew that meant virtually nothing. A hundred people could be monitoring her, and she’d never know it. Alliance Intelligence could spy on virtually anyone anywhere…but deep in their own building there almost nothing they couldn’t be monitoring.
She was wearing a pair of silk pants and a tunic…hers, though she still hadn’t been back to her apartment yet. She’d been a guest of Alliance Intelligence since Stark’s men had pulled her out of the Washbalt slums. At least, she thought, they put me in one of the VIP housing units. They could just as easily have thrown her into Sub-Sector C, she supposed. The maximum security detention and interrogation unit of Alliance Intelligence was one of the most feared places on Earth. It wasn’t someplace she wanted to end up…death was a far better option if it came to that.
She ran her fingers over the soft material of her tunic. The outfit had cost more than a Cog family earned in a year. It was one of several appropriate articles of clothing she’d found waiting in her new quarters. It was hardly surprising that Stark’s people had been in her flat ransacking her closets, but she found it unnerving nevertheless. It had been many years since Alex Linden was on receiving end of that kind of treatment. Normally, she was the one violating someone’s privacy, and she didn’t like being back on the other side. Not one bit.
I suppose that’s the point, she thought, tamping down on her rage as she did…this is all about showing me my alternatives. Stark was nothing if not a master of manipulation, something Alex knew better than anyone. If he wanted me dead, she thought, I’d be in a ditch somewhere already.
She moved around in her chair, unable to get completely comfortable. She was restless and itchy, and she found it hard to sit still. It was the Mindblast; she hadn’t realized how addicted she’d gotten. The best she could figure, it had been two weeks since she’d had a hit, and the edginess had already peaked. The withdrawal from the drug was fairly moderate, certainly nothing she couldn’t handle. But it was unpleasant nonetheless, and a distraction when she needed to be at her best and sharpest.
They’d treated her wounds, at least. The bites were already completely gone; she couldn’t even see where they’d been. The cut had been deeper; it was mostly healed, but her leg was still a little tender.
Her mind was sharp, at least…clearer than it had been in months. She’d been confused and uncertain for a long time, but her field reflexes had snapped back into shape. Seeing Sarah had shattered her single-minded resolve and challenged everything she’d believed for so long. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her sister…the hatred and anger were still there, mixed now with affection she’d thought long dead. But that was something she’d have to face later. Right now she knew she was in a fight for her life. A twisted contest of some sort, no doubt, but she didn’t kid herself. Garret Stark had the upper hand right now, and she knew he was trying to decide whether he should keep her alive or not. All the personal uncertainty and pain was still there, but Alex Linden was a survivor above all else, and she needed her wits now.
She heard the door slide open, but she resisted the urge to turn. She’d been careless on Armstrong, but now she was focused, ready. “Hello, Gavin. How have you been?” Her voice was neutral, non-committal…she might have been greeting an acquaintance at a cocktail party.
“I am well, my dear Alex.” That voice…she hadn’t heard it for two years. Charming, polite…but something else too. Something that sent a chill through her body. “Happy to see you still have those eyes in the back of your head.”
She turned, slowly, with no sense of urgency. “It takes more than eyes, Gavin. You should know that.” She’d almost called him Number One, but she wanted to draw at least somewhat on her closeness with him. The two had been sexual partners for quite some time, though she wasn’t foolish enough to think that would stop him from having her terminated. She couldn’t take familiarity too far or expect too much from it; she knew that. An appeal to friendship or affection would be weak and ineffectual…and an attempted seduction would be obvious, clumsy. No…casual familiarity was the way to go. She glanced at him with a friendly smile. She almost suggested they get right to the point, but she decided to stay silent and let him move the conversation.
He walked across the room, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. The Directorate’s meeting room was palatial, a wood-paneled bastion of power and privilege, its wall of floor-to-ceiling windows providing a kilometer high view of the Washbalt skyline. To the northeast was a cluster of similarly majestic skyscrapers, the government buildings that housed the Politicians and their staffs…the people who ran the Alliance. Who thought they ran the Alliance, at least.
“Alex, my dear. I am so pleased that we were able to find you and extricate you from those terrible circumstances.” Stark’s voice was impossible to read, as usual. To anyone listening, he was expressing genuine concern. Alex knew better, yet she still couldn’t get a feeling for what was truly going on in his sociopathic mind. “You must be more careful in the future.”
Alex almost sighed, but she caught herself. Be patient, she thought to herself…play along with his little farce. “Indeed, Gavin. I am most happy to be back inside the Core.” She paused, then added, “It has been quite some time since I frequented neighborhoods of that sort.”
Stark leaned back in his chair, eyes focused on her. He wasn’t leering, and there was no sign of anger in his expression. He just stared over with a moderately concerned look on his face. “Perhaps we should discuss the future.” He paused, his glance unchanging. “I must say, I am a bit confused about your visit to Armstrong and some of the…shall we say, decisions, that you made there.” His voice changed slowly, almost imperceptibly. He was getting serious…there was a tone there…pointed, almost threatening.
“Gavin, I know I performed poorly on Armstrong.” She knew she had to express some sort of remorse or regret. It had to be just right. Too much and he wouldn’t buy it…or he’d take it as weakness and assume she was beyond salvation. That would be a ticket to Sub-Sector C or, more likely, just a quick disposal. “I was not adequately prepared to handle my sister. I experienced some vestigial feelings I hadn’t realized were there, and it threw me off-balance.” She spoke calmly and coolly, her tone not changing at all. “And the First Imperium incursion and Erik Cain’s resulting absence made it impossible for me to execute my mission.”
Stark didn’t respond immediately...he just leaned back in his chair watching her closely. “Number Three…you are very aware of this organization’s policies on matters such as this. Indeed, you have been instrumental in carrying them out on more than one occasion.”
Number Three, she thought…he’s giving me a ray of hope, suggesting I can maintain my position. But the threat was obvious too. Alliance Intelligence tended to deal harshly with agents who’d strayed far less than she had. “Yes, Gavin, I am.” She’d almost called him Number One, but she decided taking his lead so obviously would be pandering, weak. She considered elaborating, offering a further explanation for her behav
ior, but she stayed silent. It was better to hold back, to give out information slowly.
Stark sat quietly, his eyes boring into hers. Finally he stirred, shifting slightly in his seat. “Alex, I never ordered you to harm your sister.” His tone was different, not apologetic certainly, but the tiniest bit softer. “Sarah Linden is of no interest to me or this agency. You may deal with your sister in whatever manner you deem appropriate. Forgive her or terminate her…I do not care.”
Alex was quiet, considering Stark’s words. He sounded sincere but, of course, that mean nothing where the head of Alliance Intelligence was concerned. Gavin Stark was a true sociopath and a pathological liar. But it was all she had to go with. “I understand.”
“However…” His voice became darker, more ominous. “…your affection, if any, for your sister can never again interfere with your duties.” He took a deep breath and paused. “Never.” The word was dripping with menace. “Do we understand each other, Alex?”
“Yes, Gavin.” She let her tone soften slightly. It was dangerous to play mind games with Stark…he was better at them than everyone else. But she needed him to think he’d gotten to her, at least a little.
“So I can count on you?”
She paused, just for a second or two. “Yes, Gavin.” She almost told him he could depend on her, but that seemed fake, transparent. “I am ready to get back to work. With no distractions.” Better. More professional, less pandering.
Stark watched her as she spoke and for a considerable period after. “OK, Alex.” He smiled and stood up slowly. “Then I need you back on Armstrong…and wherever else your mission takes you. General Cain is currently battling on the surface of Planet Sigma 4 II. If the campaign to defeat the First Imperium is successful, the war will be over.” Stark stood with his hand on the backrest of his chair, his eyes glinting coldly. “In that eventuality, you may do whatever you choose with your sister…but you must kill Erik Cain. He is a grave danger to our future plans.”
She didn’t look away, didn’t move at all. “Of course, Gavin. I assure you, nothing will interfere with me this time.”
He stood quietly for a few seconds then he nodded and walked toward her. “Very well, Alex.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather folder. “Here are your documents and credentials.” He gently laid the small pouch on the table. “Welcome back.” He turned and started walking toward the door.
“It is good to be back, Number One.” Her voice was cold, focused…just what she knew he wanted to hear. She leaned back, watching him leave the room. Her thoughts were racing…should I move against him now? She had hidden resources, assets and tools Stark knew nothing about. For a few seconds she seriously considered making a play for the top spot.
No, she scolded herself…don’t be a fool. Stark would be watching for that now; she knew that much. And he had hidden resources too, probably many more than she did. No, she thought grimly…I have to pass my test first, win back some of his trust. “I’m going to have to kill Erik Cain.”
Stark walked slowly down the almost dark corridor, the echo of his quiet footsteps the only sound breaking the eerie silence. The building above housed an import-export business selling rarities from the colonies to Washbalt’s privileged elite. Though ostensibly owned by one of the larger megacorporations it was, in fact, nothing but a cover for Gavin Stark’s most secretive operation.
No one working above even knew these subterranean levels existed. They were accessible only through a series of AI-controlled checkpoints. It would be easier to sneak into the Presidential Palace than to penetrate Stark’s heavily defended lair.
He turned and stood in front of a non-descript plasti-steel door, waiting quietly while the AI conducted a DNA scan. “Number One, confirmed.” The door slid to the side, revealing a drab room with a small table and 4 chairs.
Stark stepped slowly inside, extending his hand to the small, gray-haired man standing next to the table. “Dr. Zenta, welcome to Washbalt. I hope your trip was comfortable.”
Zenta reached out and took Stark’s hand. “Yes, it was fine. But I fail to see why it was necessary for me to come here at all. You know we are at a critical stage in the plan. I have much work to do.” His tone was annoyed, impatient.
Stark caught the anger he felt welling up inside him. This pompous fool scientist, he thought…he has no idea to whom he is speaking. Stark imagined throwing the arrogant ass into Sub-Sector C for a while. It was an appealing idea, but not realistic. Not yet, at least. Zenta was crucial to his plans and, for now, he was irreplaceable. “I regret taking you from your work, doctor. However, I felt it would be too conspicuous right now for me to travel to Facility Q.” Stark pulled out a chair and sat, gesturing for Zenta to do the same. “But I have important issues to discuss with you. Matters that cannot wait, I am afraid.”
Zenta sat across from Stark, an expectant expression on his face. “Then you mean to launch Operation Shadow soon?”
“Immediately, Dr. Zenta.” Stark sat totally still, staring into the scientist’s eyes as he spoke. “That is why I summoned you here.” He’d chosen the word ‘summoned’ very deliberately. It had an imperious sound to it, a subtle reminder of who was the master here.
Zenta’s eyes widened with excitement. “My life’s work…about to come to fruition.”
“Indeed, doctor.” Stark had to acknowledge that Zenta was a genius. He’d achieved something that had eluded Earth science for two centuries…something Gavin Stark was going to put to stunningly practical use. “I believe the time is right.”
In truth, Stark knew he had no choice. Implementing Plan C, and the subsequent Shadow Project, had been enormously expensive. He’d managed to hide the unauthorized expenditures, mostly with a massive campaign of fraud, cover ups, and assassinations. But even he was running out of ways to disguise the massive costs. If he didn’t launch the project now, it was going to be discovered. And the consequences of that would be catastrophic to Gavin Stark and his ambitions.
“What about the war? Shouldn’t we wait until that is over?”
Zenta’s question was a reasonable one. Stark paused for a few seconds, deciding just how much he wanted to share with his scientist ally. “I am privy to intelligence from the front, doctor. As we speak, General Cain and his ground forces are mopping up on the enemy planet. Admiral Compton has already defeated the First Imperium fleet in the system. Although it is not yet general knowledge, I believe the war will be over very shortly.”
Stark’s explanation was pure fiction, based only passingly on the actual facts of the campaign. But outside the highest levels of government, the First Imperium threat had been downplayed enormously. The elites were scared to death already…the last thing they needed was panic-stricken masses rioting in the streets. Zenta could believe Stark’s words because the scientist had never been privy to just how serious the danger truly was.
“I will be meeting with General Samuels this evening, at which time I will instruct him to activate his portion of the plan.” He slid his chair out and slowly rose. “You may return to Q and commence full activation, doctor. It is time.”
“Yes, I will return at once.” Zenta’s excitement was obvious. He’d been working on the components of Shadow for 30 years. Now, finally, he would see his work in action.
Stark walked toward the door and out into the hall, his mind deep in thought. His actual reasoning for launching Shadow was considerably different from what he had told Zenta, something only another cold-blooded psychopath could truly understand. He had no idea whether Garret and Holm and the military would find a way to defeat the First Imperium. But if they failed, he was certain the navy and Marines would be virtually destroyed in the effort. There would be no second chances, no fallback lines of defense. If Garret was defeated, it wouldn’t matter what Stark did…there would be no consequences to his launching Shadow if civilization was going to be destroyed anyway. Indeed, the Shadow project would be the only hope of defeating the enemy if Garre
t’s people failed. And if the military succeeded…they would come home to find they were too late to stop Shadow. The game would be over, and Gavin Stark would be the only winner.
Chapter 25
First Imperium Sector Base
Planet Sigma 4 II
“Let’s move it, people.” Colonel Eliot Storm was watching his tactical display as he barked out orders to his Marines. They’d had no intel at all about the size or layout of the enemy base…the outer hull was impervious to scanners, just like First Imperium ships. But now his scanning units were feeding him a flood of data, and his AI was constructing a schematic of the place on the fly.
They hadn’t run into any resistance yet. Their entry point seemed to be an out of the way spot. All they’d found so far were vast empty storage areas with huge rack systems along the walls. It wasn’t Storm’s place to speculate on the design of the enemy base, but he was pretty sure these were the storage units for the battlebots and Reapers they’d been facing since the war began…the First Imperium equivalent of barracks. Other than subtle differences, racks rather than bunks, for example, the base didn’t seem all that different from an Alliance facility.
His group came to an intersection, the third they’d found. “Sergeant Jamison, take your section down the south corridor. Reiger, take yours north.” He wasn’t going to be able to detach half a platoon down every hallway they found, but he didn’t know what else to do. The scanning results were still incomplete, and they had no idea where any of these corridors led…or which ones might have enemy forces lurking in them.
“Colonel Storm, we’ve got the high-powered scanners set up now. We’re getting good readings. You can ignore those lateral corridors. They just lead to more troop storage areas, all empty. Post a pair of guards down each just in case, but you can recall the sections.”