No Remorse, page 12
Considering the Coalition and its Sécurité Spéciale minions employed groups such as the Confederacy of the Howling Stars for their dirty work that discovery didn’t surprise either of the two Naval Intelligence officers.
Bivins and Leppell were no choirboys. They’d broken many laws while carrying out their orders. Enough for years, if not decades in a penal colony. But their actions were merely those of useful idiots in the service of a secretive agency doing the SecGen’s bidding.
In Decker’s estimation, neither Leppell, nor Bivins merited a summary, cold-blooded execution — unlike many of the Sécurité Spéciale agents who’d crossed Talyn’s and his path. But with Leppell’s body cooling in the engine room, waiting for disposal, and Bivins having undergone a professional grade interrogation, both needed to vanish. They couldn’t risk anyone wondering whether Annekka Bayle and Dmitri Rauck might actually be the two Fleet agents heading the Coalition’s most wanted list.
“Done?” Decker asked his partner when she fell silent.
She nodded, eyes still on their captive. “Done.”
“In that case...” Decker’s Pathfinder blade flashed in the low light as he pulled it from a sheath strapped to his left forearm.
He stepped forward to grasp Bivins’ head with one hand while jamming the dagger into his right ear with the other, killing him almost instantly.
“There. Now you can’t say I don’t take my turn at doing the wet work.”
“I appreciate your gesture, but since I am what I am, you should leave such matters to me. See to the welfare of your soul instead.”
He gave his partner a tight, humorless grin. “I love you too, darling. And my soul’s doing just fine. Let’s bring this one to where his buddy is waiting and prepare everything for your static engine test.”
**
“Harbormaster, this is Haukka,” Talyn said, “We’ve completed our engine tests and are ready to reconnect the gangway tube.”
“Acknowledged, Haukka. Stand by. Harbormaster, out.”
She pushed away from the command console and stood. “There. Our late friends Leppell and Bivins are no more than stripped atoms, and the harbormaster’s office didn’t ask about them when we requested permission to disconnect from the docking arm.”
“How long until they’re missed, do you think?” Decker asked from the tactical station where he’d been getting reacquainted with the ship’s ordnance.
“Not that long. Eventually, word will filter back to their superiors on the planet that someone’s taken charge of Haukka and they’ll wonder why their bully boys didn’t step in.”
“Since we still need to figure out what happened with Garrett and why the Sécurité Spéciale is so keen on getting their hands on him and the ship, let’s hope the next operatives they send up will be a cut above basic utility-grade gorilla. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck paying their Scandia field office a visit.”
Talyn snorted derisively. “I can just picture you barging in with a cheesy smile to ask why they have a hard-on for an undercover Naval Intelligence ship. But to answer the question you didn’t ask, no, I don’t think it’s connected to the disappearance of your daughter and former spouse. Besides, they could be back home already because there’s no foul play involved.”
“You don’t really believe that last bit, do you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What next?” Decker climbed to his feet and stretched.
“Talk to the Breidablik police about Garrett. Do a little sleuthing of our own. And if that produces nothing, fly Haukka to the Kollsvik spaceport. Look in on the inspector working Saga’s case. Wait and see what comes crawling out of the woodwork once people realize the ship flown by Mattias Kenly, known import-export scofflaw, is under new management. Maybe even scope out the local Sécurité Spéciale office and see if we can do them a lot of mischief while we get a handle on their newest plans in this system.”
“You’re the mission commander. But before we leave, I’d like to run a full inspection of the main systems. Just because the AI let no one aboard doesn’t mean there aren’t problems waiting for that critical moment when we’re a few dozen meters above a busy spaceport, attempting to land. I especially want to send a droid to do a full outside inspection so we can be sure no one stuck limpet mines into various nooks or crannies. That means we won’t be lifting off for a while, not if we’re to play detective at the same time. It’s a shame your Constabulary friend isn’t doing her thing in this system. Finding Garrett Montero would be right up her alley, since she already knows him in a way.”
“That can’t be helped. Will the AI work with you?”
“Sure. My little virtual buddy hasn’t forgotten the good times we enjoyed together during the Garonne insurrection. I’m guessing you want to visit the local cop shop right away?”
“It would be wise since we’re probably expected after expressing concern for Brother Mattias’ welfare. It would seem strange if we didn’t follow up as soon as possible.”
“Right.” Decker nodded once, then inspected his partner with a critical eye. “I see no bloodstains or anything else suspicious marring your fancy business suit. How about me?”
She returned the favor. “You’re good as well, meaning we made two clean kills. Spending half a year behind the lines, so to speak, didn’t do us much harm. Armed?”
“And dangerous. I thought I’d carry friend Bivins’ needler instead of my Shrehari hand artillery, as you like to call it.”
“Great minds and all that. I have Leppell’s.”
“We shoot and the ammo traces back to... what?”
“Not us. That’s good enough. And strangely, my loads are non-lethal.” Her lips twitched dismissively.
“So are mine. How did they expect to kill us?”
“We’ll never know for sure. My best guess would be needlers to put us under, followed by catastrophic decompression in a secondary airlock with the bodies shoved out once the ship is well away from here.”
Decker grunted. “Assholes.”
“The Sécurité Spéciale doesn’t hire nice people. Give me a moment to change the ship’s access codes. Then we’ll go.”
— FOURTEEN —
The Scandian Police Authority’s Breidablik station wasn’t difficult to find. It sat at the center of the domed habitat like a spider in its web, watching through a sophisticated surveillance network which, unfortunately for Decker and Talyn, didn’t extend to the port facilities.
Those were under the jealous eyes of the harbormaster’s own security service, which, not infrequently, was ordered to ignore a given docking arm for a specified period, no questions asked. Free ports offered anonymity so long as the letter of the law remained intact though its spirit be grievously wounded.
A duty sergeant in Scandian blue, ensconced behind a high counter running almost the full width of the sparsely populated public lobby, looked up at Decker and Talyn when the sliding doors hissed closed behind them.
“What can I do for you?” He asked in a deep baritone that seemed to match a square, rough-hewn face framed by short red hair and an equally flamboyant, but longer beard. A true descendant of the ancient Vikings if Decker had ever seen one.
“My name is Annekka Bayle. This is Dmitri Rauck. We’re employees of the Universal Exports Corporation, which owns the trader ship Haukka. Our superiors sent us here to take charge of said ship and inquire about our colleague Mattias Kenly’s disappearance. We would appreciate a few minutes of the investigating officer’s time so we might report back to our corporate headquarters on Captain Kenly’s status.”
The sergeant nodded once and pointed at a row of chairs set against one wall, where a dozen people of various descriptions sat in silence, eyes averted. “Please wait there while I inquire.”
Less than five minutes later, a side door opened without a sound. A slender, tall woman wearing warrant officer’s bars on her collar stepped out and headed straight for them.
“Sera Bayle, Ser Rauck?” When the agents stood, she continued, “I am Senior Investigator Thais Chaskiel. You are here about Mattias Kenly’s disappearance?”
“We are,” Talyn replied with a polite dip of the head. “He’s a valued colleague and member of the Universal Exports family.”
“I am charged with the case. If you will please follow me.” Chaskiel gestured toward the still open side door.
She led them to an interview room that exuded all the charm of a prison cell, with uncomfortable, utilitarian furniture and a bleak decor. It reminded Talyn of nothing so much as the one she’d occupied on Aquilonia station during the Shovak murder investigation. She repressed a smile at the memory of her verbal sparring with the investigator at the time, Chief Superintendent Caelin Morrow.
Chaskiel motioned them to sit across the table from her. “Before I discuss the case with you, might I see identification that proves you are employed by Universal Exports?”
“Certainly.”
Both agents handed over their fake credentials. The Scandian examined them with great care, her wrist-mounted sensor acting as a scanner, before handing them back without comment.
“I can’t tell you much about this case. The harbormaster’s office contacted us after Captain Kenly stopped responding to communications and his ship’s AI advised them he was not aboard and had not been for several days. It also informed the harbormaster that Kenly had placed Haukka on lockdown, meaning no one could board without the proper authorization codes.
“The harbormaster’s security office has a video of him leaving the ship three days before they raised concern about his inexplicable absence. That was the last piece of visual evidence found anywhere in Breidablik. He has not passed through any departure control gates, used his payment codes to make purchases or used his credentials for any other purpose. Our inquiries didn't find witnesses who encountered Captain Kenly since the day he left his ship.”
“May I ask about the investigation’s current status?”
“Certainly, Sera Bayle. We posted a ‘be on the lookout’ bulletin in public areas; the surveillance networks, both ours and the harbormaster’s are programmed to raise the alarm if Captain Kenly is spotted; finally, our police informers are keeping an eye out for your colleague. We cannot do more at this point. Besides, if Captain Kenly disappeared of his own volition, no crime has been committed.”
“Is there any way a body can leave this moon without passing through official channels?” Decker asked.
Chaskiel nodded. “There are many ways, Ser Rauck, as I’m sure you can imagine. None of them are legal, of course, but anyone using them is not concerned with legality.”
“Meaning Mattias Kenly could have been shanghaied and smuggled aboard a departing starship or shuttle undetected?”
“Sadly, yes,” Chaskiel acknowledged. “No surveillance system is foolproof.”
“And if you make it foolproof the universe will come up with a better fool.”
The Scandian warrant officer gave Decker a pained smile. “No doubt.”
“Do people vanish without a trace often? If so, it must be bad for business.”
“No more often than in any other free port along the Rim, Sera Bayle, or on Scandia itself for that matter. Most of these disappearances are likely voluntary, to escape obligations, enemies, or even the law. Or to set out on adventures. Unlike some places, we do not suffer from an organized crime problem, so involuntary disappearances should be rare.”
“No organized crime activity?” Decker asked with a skeptical smile. “Not even in the warehouse district? You’re fortunate. In my experience the crooked buggers always wiggle their way in, more often than not right under the local cops’ noses.”
“And yet it is so in Breidablik. Is there anything else the Scandian Police Authority can do to help you?”
**
“Wasn’t that special,” Decker grumbled once they were back out on Breidablik’s promenade, a broad avenue that cut through the middle of the habitat. “If the cops looking for Saga show the same amount of concern, I might as well find her myself.”
“Don’t borrow trouble ahead of time, Zack. You can’t blame Chaskiel. There are only so many avenues of inquiry open to the police. It looks like she explored the available ones. If Garrett went to ground voluntarily, no one will find him. And if the opposition picked him up, then chances are we’ll be putting another memorial star on the wall back at HQ.”
“Now who’s borrowing trouble?” He smirked at his companion. “Perhaps Garrett was nice enough to leave us clues. He’ll have expected the boss to dispatch a retrieval team for Haukka at the least, if not you and I in person. Although since you reached out to him about Saga and Ingrid, our showing up shouldn’t be a total surprise.”
They retraced their steps to the docks in silence, dodging other pedestrians, their eyes everywhere, looking for signs of surveillance or a tail. Once in their docking arm, Talyn said, “If our friend left us clues, we may simply not have asked the right question yet or looked in the right spot. He’s one of us, so he’ll know how to hide something only we can find.”
“The AI? As in feeding it a code that unlocks a hidden layer of data?”
“Perhaps. It would be a logical place to stash a message.”
“How do we figure out the magic password?”
She glanced up at a small, inconspicuous blister hiding a hemispheric video sensor on the docking arm’s ceiling. “We should ask Chaskiel for a copy of the sequence showing him leaving Haukka the day he went walkabout. The man always could speak volumes with the smallest gestures.”
“Ah, yes.” Decker nodded. “I heard he was handy with his fingers. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He nudged his partner and leered.
“There’s plenty of work waiting for us before we can take a break,” she warned.
“An hour or two of rest and recreation might jog the old brain cells.”
“First the video. I’ll call Senior Investigator Chaskiel when we’re aboard.”
**
“If the AI’s hiding something, it’s not letting on,” Decker said once Talyn cut the communications link with Chaskiel. “I can’t tell whether that’s because Garrett didn’t leave us an Easter egg in the data banks or my scintillating personality’s not enough to pierce through the security layers.”
“Let’s hope the video shows us more. It should arrive at any moment.”
“Excellent. I so love a cooperative cop.”
“I think our dear senior investigator was a little embarrassed by the paucity of news she could share with us.”
“Professional pride is a useful thing in the wrong hands. And yours can be so wrong sometimes...”
“I’m sure they can, Big Boy. Now back to work. Garrett didn’t march off into the sunset without leaving something behind.”
“Incoming data packet from the Scandian Police Authority,” a soft, disembodied alto announced.
“The AI has relearned how to speak?” Talyn gave Decker a suspicious glare. “I thought I told you my voice wasn’t an acceptable template for its audio subroutine.”
“First, that didn’t sound like you anymore. Garrett obviously fine-tuned its programming.” Decker ignored her snort of disbelief. “And second, I want to make sure we miss nothing by restricting communications to the odd chime and text displays. Haukka’s AI might hold the key to finding out why Garrett walked away from his assignment.”
“You hope.” She allowed herself an exasperated sigh. “But if I find the audio getting on my nerves, we return to the status quo ante, understood?”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Decker tossed off a facetious salute. “Shall we see what that data packet might be?”
“It is a video sequence showing Captain Kenly walking through the docking arm toward the hub,” the AI answered without prompting.
Talyn squeezed the bridge of her nose, exhaled and muttered in an irritated tone, “So it begins.” Then, louder, “Play the video on the main display.”
They watched Mattias Kenly, master of the trader Haukka emerge from the gangway tube and stride through the arm at a steady, if unhurried pace, seemingly a man heading out to do business. He wore the sort of dark, utilitarian clothes preferred by spacers — trousers tucked into boots, collarless shirt, jacket loose enough to hide a sidearm and equipped with enough pockets to carry a small arsenal. His long, gray-flecked chestnut hair was gathered in a queue at the nape of the neck. A neatly trimmed and groomed beard, more silver than brown, framed a strong chin beneath intense, watchful eyes.
“The earring’s a nice touch. If I didn’t know ahead of time he’s Lieutenant Commander Montero, of the Special Intelligence Operations Division, I’d take him for a real smuggler. It is Garrett, right?”
She nodded. “If it isn’t, someone’s gone to great trouble replicating his cover identity.” After the sequence ended, Talyn asked, “Did you spot anything?”
“Other than the fact he looked like a tax avoidance specialist whose latest batch of contraband is about to be seized and sold at auction? No. Let’s replay it in slow motion.”
The moving images froze and then faded at the end of the second repetition, this time at one-third speed.
Talyn said, “If Garrett left us a message or any sort of clue, it wasn’t something meant to be seen in this video.”
“Perhaps he thought it too risky, in case the opposition got wise and set about deciphering whatever he wanted to communicate. There’s no telling who can access the port’s surveillance network.”
“True. But you were right — he didn’t seem completely footloose and fancy-free, even though he kept it from showing too much.”
“And we’re no wiser than before. The answer is aboard Haukka. If Garrett was concerned with security, then it’s the only place in the whole damn system where he could be reasonably sure the bad guys wouldn’t find it.”
“Or rather, where he could be reasonably sure someone from Special Operations and only Special Operations would find it.” Talyn stood and nodded toward the open door. “While we let our minds work on the problem, why don’t we run that full survey you mentioned? I’ll monitor the droid inspecting our hull from the outside while you go deck by deck on the inside. Who knows — you might stumble across something useful.”
