Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3)

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Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3) Page 14

by Michael Anderle


  “We did not expect you all to arrive so soon,” he began, “and pulled Leo off leave to join us. I believe it’s what...four a.m.?”

  He nodded. It would be about that, now, and his wife would still be asleep.

  “Four a.m. where he’s stationed.”

  All eyes turned to regard him, and he noticed exactly who was present. The Navy contact had warned him, but she hadn’t been able to be specific—not on an open line. “Our guests have arrived early,” was all she’d said.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he managed, and more than one delegate waved his apology away.

  The Meligornian was especially gracious. “We are glad you came,” she said and her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

  Leo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, the Meligornians were glad to see him. They’d known Earth had a specialist on their intelligence service but had yet to meet him. Now, they could put a face and a name to him.

  He managed a smile and a Meligornian acknowledgment from a distance. “Likewise, Honored…”

  “Speaker,” she clarified. “For I speak for my people on this matter.”

  The chief caught himself frowning and quickly forced his face to smooth into polite interest. Speaker was not the title Meligornians used for their intelligence people but for their alien liaison officers, which he knew from the files she definitely was not.

  He hoped the commander had his systems locked down.

  When he glanced down the table, he noticed that Herman Turing, his counterpart for Dreth intelligence, looked severely unimpressed. A glance at the Dreth delegate revealed why. That individual appeared very much like a cat that had finally found the cream and looked forward to devouring it.

  Leo stifled a sigh. Well, that’s two of us who’ll need new assignments. And if we ever discover who the dick-for-brained fuck-knuckle was who sank both our careers, I’ll see him shafted so far, he’ll need two mirrors to dress in.

  For a brief moment, he wondered who hated them both enough to put them in the same room as their alien counterparts, but the commander tapped the folder in front of him and glanced toward the door. The junior petty officer took the hint and closed it. Leo hoped it was sealed tightly because he had identified the intelligence representatives of every race in the Federation and knew it would be one hell of a coup if anyone could eavesdrop on the meeting.

  He might have worried about that more except Commander Geodine now addressed the meeting. The man activated the screen at the end of the room and directed their attention to it.

  “As you all know,” he began, “we have uncovered a group of rebels based out of the Dreth consulate in what used to be Germany.”

  The look of satisfaction on the Dreth representative’s face melted to one of distaste and the look he shot Herman suggested he’d like ten minutes alone with the man. Leo decided he and his colleague wouldn’t go anywhere without an armed escort for several years to come—and even then, their safety wasn’t guaranteed.

  That thought made him hope to hell that someone had been sent to guard their families—or that the room was sealed until it happened. The commander continued to speak but a covert test of his mobile showed the room was locked down for all outside communication.

  Well, that’s something, at least. He relaxed a fraction.

  “May I ask how you came by this information?” the Dreth asked, his voice deceptively calm.

  Geodine’s mouth tightened and he failed to stop the shift of his eyes toward Turing. “That is not a question we can answer,” he said and the chief froze and held back the urge to groan and rest his head in his hands.

  The man had essentially told the entire room that Herman had been one of those involved in the operation and that their operatives were still in the field. He slid a sideways look at the Meligornian and saw her watching him intently, the smile still curving her lips.

  At least someone was happy.

  The Dreth certainly weren’t. The representative’s deep voice reflected suppressed outrage and anger. “Your preliminary brief was interesting,” he said and gestured toward the screen. “Please. Continue.”

  Commander Geodine cleared his throat and his gaze flicked around the table. He looked for all the world like he knew he’d made a mistake but couldn’t work out exactly what it was. No doubt their post-meeting debrief would be an interesting one.

  Leo hoped there would be alcohol involved—and a good supply of it—but not yet. For now, he needed to hear what had gone down because the delegates might have received a report, but he hadn’t. He’d been on leave and his wife was already very unimpressed.

  “We don’t see you for months at a time, and now this,” she’d begun, hugged him, and stalked back to bed.

  There would, no doubt, be more words when he returned and he wondered if his marriage would survive this time. He hoped so because he couldn’t keep her safe if it didn’t.

  Geodine continued. “So far, we’ve identified twenty of them, which makes it the largest of any terrorist cell we’ve uncovered. Its members come from all three races of the Federation, which is why you have all been called”—he inclined his head toward Turing and Winthrop—“and why we have called in our specialists.”

  The Dreth placed both hands on the edge of the table, leaned back in his chair, and the look of satisfaction returned. “We had wondered.”

  The smug expression faded when the commander continued. “They identified members of your own organizations operating within the cell.”

  Indrawn breaths from the four representatives from both alien species revealed that this particular little tidbit hadn’t been included in the briefing file. Geodine looked at his chiefs. “And now you know why we have compromised their security. You needed to understand that we were serious about the threat, and they were all we had to offer.”

  He regarded the two men with some regret, and Leo knew Herman’s face mirrored his own, even as he worked to bring his expression back under control. They’d deliberately thrown them to the wolves?

  Turing pushed out of his chair but the commander’s voice was quiet. “Sit down, Herman.”

  He froze and looked at his colleague. Leo jerked his head at the table and Turing hesitated.

  “Please, Herman,” Commander Geodine added, and after a moment, the man sat.

  Once he was settled, his superior officer continued. “After this briefing, we will allow you to speak to them to verify their roles—under close supervision, of course. For now, I am afraid we must focus on the current situation.”

  Leo’s head spun. Focus? After that little news grenade? Was the man completely insane?

  Apparently not, because he didn’t stop. “Being a Dreth consulate, the Federation Navy has no jurisdiction—”

  He held his hand up as the Dreth moved to speak. “And being on Earth, the Dreth cannot bring in the personnel they require in order to intervene. Earth would not allow it.”

  From the way he said it, that had already been verified. He looked at the Meligornian.

  “Also, despite there being several Meligornian representatives involved, Meligorn does not even have a territorial claim on the area, which is why—”

  “We could send a team,” the Dreth officer interrupted. “We could drop them directly into the consulate grounds. Not a single unauthorized Dreth need touch Earth soil.”

  “You would still need Earth air space and concerns have been raised about whether or not the drop could be orchestrated to ‘miss’ and be accidentally retargeted onto something more strategic for Dreth.”

  Despite his resentment, Leo had to give the commander this—the man was astute enough to know better than to try to continue after making a statement like that. The Dreth representative was on his feet with a roar, and his colleagues rose too.

  The Meligornians pushed away from the table, stood, and took several steps toward the wall.

  Clearing the line of fire, he thought and didn’t budge an inch. Truly, they might as well shoot m
e now.

  He rested his chin on his hands and glanced at the Dreth. As the other Navy representatives moved back, he noticed Herman had remained where he was as well. The two of them exchanged glances and, for the first time since this nightmare had begun, smiled.

  Seeing their look, the Dreth suddenly laughed and dropped into his seat. He grinned at the two men and wagged his finger at them. “You don’t get out of it that easily.”

  The Meligornian rolled her eyes and led her delegation in re-seating themselves. “Nice try, Mr Winthrop.”

  Leo opened his mouth to protest her use of the civilian term but closed it again. The way things were going, he might actually own that title sooner rather than later. At least his wife would be pleased.

  “I take it you have a solution to offer,” the Meligornian prompted and the room stilled.

  There was only one person any of them could think of who might get away with the task. Oh, hell no, Leo thought, but Geodine continued, oblivious to his concerns—or despite them, of course.

  “The Witch and her team are human and, as such, are already on the planet.”

  “There is one who is not,” the Meligornian reminded them and slid a sly glance at her Dreth counterpart. He glowered but remained silent. The commander sighed.

  “Yes, but since he has been accepted into the Witch’s company and operates within it, he does not suffer the usual restrictions applied to Dreth citizens visiting the planet.”

  The representative’s mouth dropped open and was quickly closed.

  The commander went on. “And as you are all aware, the team are all citizens of Dreth, meaning they can operate on Dreth soil and are thus free to enter the consulate grounds without restriction.”

  A soft murmur ran around the table and he waited for it to die down.

  “We have called them in,” he said when the response had settled and all eyes were once again focused on him. The Dreth and Meligornian showed signs of outrage so he raised his hand and continued. “They have the floor plans for the consulate. The real ones,” he added and fixed the representative with a stern glance, “and not those filed with the Earth Council.”

  “But—” The alien scowled and fixed Herman with a stern look. “You and I will definitely talk.”

  To Leo’s surprise, Herman laughed. “That’s still not something you can know.”

  From the sound of it, the specialist on Dreth intelligence had decided he would make the representative’s life as difficult as he possibly could. The look on the Dreth’s face said he’d come to the same conclusion but that he would enjoy it, anyway.

  Commander Geodine brought their attention back to the screen. “Be that as it may, they have the real floor plans and are on standby. When we are ready, we’ll send them in. Until then, however, we continue to observe the rebel sympathizers and wait for the right time to strike.”

  Both alien representatives leaned forward.

  “Make sure the Morgana’s team is always ready,” the Dreth advised. “We might not have much time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  On a pirate ship not far from the demise of a four-ship pirate pack, a Teloran prepared to contact the approaching fleet. Darkness surrounded him and flowed through him.

  Once he’d ensured that his cabin was sealed, he initiated the privacy measures he’d installed without the pirates’ permission and waited. The Master did not take long to respond.

  If he hadn’t known what the Master was, he’d have thought the call was expected. The connection between them would have given his leader only a moment’s warning.

  “Tell me you have welcome news.”

  “I do not. The Advance Leader remains unfound.”

  “And your search was thorough.”

  “Yes, Master. It was thorough.”

  “And undetected.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “The coordinates were correct.”

  “Yes, Master. They were verified by three different sources and the debris field confirmed the battle site. Traces of our energy remained but the Leader did not. We entered covertly and departed undetected.”

  “The area was occupied?”

  “The area was under surveillance. The initial target had escorts for its departure.”

  “Describe this surveillance.”

  “Federation Navy. It looked to be searching.”

  “Our sources?”

  “Have an increased requirement to be circumspect.”

  “And he has not been found.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Is your sector ready?”

  “Our sector has almost completed its preparations.”

  “How long before those preparations are done?”

  “Perhaps seven Earth days more.”

  “No more than that.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “The armada is on schedule. The time frame will not change.”

  An Advance Leader himself, the Teloran felt a frisson of unease.

  “The Federation knows we are coming.”

  The Master laughed. “They know something is coming but they do not know it is us. We are something entirely new. Their knowledge means nothing to us.”

  “They know to look for an invasion.”

  “Eventually, they would have known. Now, they have time to prepare to kneel or die.”

  “I agree that they will have time to prepare, Master, but now they have a witch and she will have time to prepare, too.”

  “The Earth Witch is alone. She will not be enough to protect her own world let alone the worlds she has seen fit to adopt—and she does not know enough to be a threat. There is not one being in the Federation who can face us, even if they were able to know the time of our arrival.”

  “Understood, Master.”

  “Ensure your own preparations are not discovered or you will wish the Witch had found you instead.”

  As the Teloran Advance Leader bowed his head and murmured one final “Yes, Master,” before the transmission ended, the royal hall in Meligorn’s capital bustled with activity. Nobles and entrepreneurs alike filled the seats, all standing, and all eyes strained to see the arrival of the king and queen.

  Emissaries from Dreth and Earth and the Federation Navy waited in places of honor on the stage, each one frowning and thoughtful. This was a ceremony of great national importance, they’d been told, but that had been all the detail they were given.

  None of them knew what the ceremony was intended for, or why they had been called to witness it. The doors opened and they turned toward them as the royal couple swept in, accompanied by their guards.

  The musicians who had played quietly in the background until this moment moved from the quiet serenade to a royal march with a simple shift of melody and chord. Everyone in the hall stood more erect. Soldiers stood to attention and any who’d been seated rose hastily to their feet.

  The royal couple looked serious as though this was not an occasion for celebration but one much more somber. All their invitation had stated was that this was a ceremony for something for which they thought the time had passed.

  The king and queen approached the dais and she looked at the seat where Ambassador V’ritan usually sat. A shadow passed over her expression as though the occasion was more than serious—as if it held sadness, as well.

  Possibly aware that she was being watched, she drew her gaze from the ambassador’s empty seat. She dipped her chin to Elza, who sat alone with Brilgus at her side. Nothing more passed between them as the music accompanied the royals to their seats.

  The music died as the rulers took their places but instead of sitting, the couple took hold of each other’s hands and looked expectantly toward the door. As if on cue, the musicians changed their tune completely. From royal entry, it swung to stirring march and the hall’s great doors swung open once again.

  A single figure was momentarily silhouetted in the open doorway and Elza gasped. Brilgus laid a hand on her shoulder, and she reached up and covered
it with her own. The heavy tread of armored feet echoed through the hall, and the great doors boomed shut.

  Whispers of the “the ambassador” and “V’ritan” rustled through the crowd, punctuated by more gasps, but he looked neither right nor left. He marched forward and all present had time to study the armor that had replaced his traditional robes of office.

  Emerald-green and edged with lines of silver and gold, it resembled the armor worn by Earth’s space Marines, only much more advanced. He carried the helmet under his left arm, his elbow tucked above the pommel of a large falchion.

  His gaze found the face of his king and remained there as silence descended on the packed hall.

  The queen slid a furtive glance toward Elza. Her own heart ached with sadness and she could only imagine what V’ritan’s wife must be feeling.

  She was in time to see her friend raise a finger and wipe it quickly beneath one eye. The hand the woman had laid over Brilgus’ now grasped his fingers and she leaned into the bodyguard’s side.

  Oh, Elza, the queen thought. I am truly sorry.

  Feeling tears threaten her own eyes, she tilted her chin and focused on V’ritan.

  The ex-ambassador did not slow. His pace—the one he’d maintain on a battlefield—was swift and relentless. It was unswerving, too, and brought him to the edge of the stage. There, he shunned the stairs and vaulted from the floor to land before his king and drop swiftly to one knee.

  Despite the ripple that ran through his guards, King Grilfir stood fast. He’d watched his ambassador and advisor draw near and knew V’ritan would remain neither. His heart ached even as it rejoiced in his friend’s transformation, and he refused to flinch as he leapt toward him.

  Now was not the time to show fear. This was the time to show his trust and his utter and complete faith in his friend. His people would follow where he led but he had to show them the way.

  And the first step along that path was to trust this man.

  As soon as the new arrival had settled, he spoke. “V’ritan, Ambassador of Meligorn and Most Trusted Advisor of our family, it is with a heavy heart we accept that we have heard your wisdom as an advisor one last time.”

 

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