A Dark and Dirty War, page 14
“Then why would the Special Security Bureau be involved in the Athena matter?”
Holt grimaced. “Let me count the reasons. Number one — to discredit the sovereignists at the SecGen’s orders.”
“The SecGen would see his own daughter placed in jeopardy?”
“After two terms in power, Lauzier assuredly has the SSB under his thumb, and he’s not the type who hesitates or concerns himself overmuch with ethics, morality, and the law. Power is his god; its pursuit is his life’s work and to hell with his eternal soul. Sara Lauzier is no different, and she’s chummy with the SSB director general. If he’s involved, then so is she. Reason number two — creating a new piracy threat on the frontier will scare colonists into demanding more protection from a benevolent Earth rather than more independence.”
“One incident isn’t enough.”
“No, but what if this was the first in a series, orchestrated by the SecGen’s tame security service?”
She nodded. “Plausible. Keep going.”
“Reason number three — to discredit the Fleet. Never mind we can’t pursue pirates into the Zone openly, and our Q ships are scattered. The fact we couldn’t stop them in the first place will be bad enough publicity.” A thoughtful expression crossed Holt’s face. “Perhaps the political junket itself was set up to create a crisis along the Rim. Whoever’s behind this never figured we’d dispatch a powerful task force so quickly, and to hell with the Treaty. They counted on us dithering and thereby tarnishing our reputation.”
A dangerous smile, one which reminded Holt of Siobhan Dunmoore, tugged at Kowalski’s lips.
“Unfortunately, they didn’t think we might give command of that task force to the one officer who can effect a successful rescue.” The smile vanished. “Why leak this now? Surely the SSB are aware we would scrutinize them mercilessly for involvement.”
He gave her a shrug.
“They can still achieve their aims. In fact, if Siobhan fails, so much the better. Not only did we — the Fleet — violate the Treaty of Ulufan, but we also couldn’t even accomplish the mission, and why? Because we put a superannuated captain, ripe for retirement, in command. Yes, we know she’s the best for the job, but the optics, once this is made public, will be terrible. No one cares anymore about the raid on the Shrehari home system a decade ago. People will only see a war hero who couldn’t hack it in the peacetime Navy. So I’d say the SSB is sitting pretty right now, and that gave them the impetus to leak word of a politically inspired plot.”
“Which means Siobhan must succeed at all costs.”
Holt nodded.
“The one advantage we have is our partnership with the Colonial Office and, through it, the ability to communicate with her. They distrust the SSB as much as we do and keep their subspace radio network in the Zone a secret. At this point, considering the Colonial Office probably isn’t reading our encrypted mail, you and I and two of my officers tasked with supporting the mission are the only ones who know she’s headed for Galadiman. And that’s thanks to the Shrehari, by the way. They watched Vuko leave Kilia and gave Forenza a heading as she jumped at the hyperlimit. Forenza sent it to Siobhan, who reached the heliopause three hours before Vuko.”
Kowalski let out a snort. “Who’d figure our former enemies are more trustworthy than parts of our own government.”
“Siobhan?”
— Twenty-One —
“Madame Lauzier, your presence is requested.” The man, one of the pirates, pressed into service as crew, bowed his head as he filled the door to the small lounge.
“By whom?” Lauzier, whose eyes were on the reader in her lap, didn’t bother looking up at him.
“The Commodore, Madame, who wishes to speak with you since you’re the most notable person among the passengers.”
When Lauzier raised her head, she glanced at a puzzled Amali and gave him a languid shrug.
“Perhaps I’ll finally find out what’s been going on since these people so rudely interrupted our cruise.” She stood and turned toward the strangely deferential pirate. “Let’s go.”
They met a couple of Lauzier’s fellow prisoners along the way. They gave her blank stares as if the sight were beyond their comprehension. But then, Lauzier was increasingly isolated by choice, allowing only Amali and a few others in her presence, and she no longer seemed approachable. It was as if she’d divorced herself from the rest of the junket’s participants since Athena dropped out of FTL for the last time.
The guest lobby, a broad, well-lit compartment with a wood-paneled reception counter, was where, in better times, live humans greeted new arrivals rather than AI holograms. Wall-sized displays, now dark, covered most of one bulkhead while the main door, which would open when the ship was docked, dominated another. As they entered, Lauzier noticed that the third door, leading to parts of the ship passengers only visited by invitation, stood open, with another armed pirate standing guard. Of the commodore, there was no trace.
Lauzier’s guide led her past the guard, through the door, and toward Athena’s bridge, which she’d visited several times before the hijacking. But just short of it, the entrance to the captain’s quarters stood open, and the pirate ushered her inside. The woman who’d been sitting behind Roy LeDain’s desk stood as Lauzier entered.
Tall, thin, middle-aged, she struck Lauzier as the archetype of the icy blond, with pale, shoulder-length hair framing a narrow face that was primarily sharp angles. Intense blue eyes beneath brows that seemed almost white stared back at her with a calculating wariness. She wore a black merchant officer’s tunic and trousers, the latter tucked inside knee-high, shiny boots. Her quasi-uniform’s sole adornment was a small silver star on her tunic collar.
“You must be the Commodore.” Lauzier took a seat without waiting for the mercenary’s invitation, eschewing the usual niceties. “I presume you own a name to go with that splendid title and shiny star?”
After a moment of silence during which the woman sat and studied Lauzier, she said, “At one time, yes. But I decided it served no use in this line of business.”
“You’re ex-Fleet?”
“Like everyone in this organization. We’re the ones cut adrift after the war when the Armed Forces returned to a peacetime footing and decided we were surplus to requirements.” She shrugged. “It happens after every conflict. I head our private military arm, and for this contract, because of its size and importance, I’ve taken personal command of the task force.”
The Commodore must have seen something in Lauzier’s eyes because she added, “I retired as a post captain after several starship commands and senior appointments, so you need not worry about my qualifications. They are impeccable. Shall we discuss the next steps? The contract stipulates I would take orders from you once Athena arrives at this rendezvous.”
“Is someone in pursuit? Other than the so-called rescue force?”
The Commodore nodded.
“Unfortunately, Captain LeDain sent an emergency message with visuals before we seized his bridge. That message shot up the Navy chain of command like an aviso pushing the upper hyperlimit bands. Fleet HQ formed a task force at Starbase 30 to find this ship and did so in record time. They’re even seeking Shrehari permission to enter the Protectorate Zone, as per the relevant articles in the Treaty of Ulufan. The warning I received provided no further details. Since we don’t enjoy the luxury of subspace communications between our bases and the Commonwealth, I depend on dispatch runs by our sloops.”
A flash of anger crossed Lauzier’s patrician face.
“Damn.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. The Navy doesn’t know where we are, and it will almost certainly take weeks, if not months, to find us, considering peacetime constraints. This operation will be over well before then.”
“Let’s hope so. The Fleet can’t rescue us. It would raise too many questions. Now, my orders. You will remove several passengers from this ship and dispose of them.”
The mercenary’s pale eyebrows crept up.
“Dispose of? And what, pray tell, does that mean, Madame Lauzier?”
“They’re never to be heard from again. How you do it is your problem. The people who hired you will shortly announce they ordered Athena’s hijackers to execute prisoners if Earth doesn’t issue a proclamation announcing Rim Sector colonies will unconditionally attain independence within the year.”
“The government won’t do that.”
“Of course not. But our rescue will be nicely timed so that only the people who aren’t on the list I’m about to give you go home. And that is the only explanation you’ll hear. The contract stipulated no questions asked.”
She inclined her head with what Lauzier deemed as proper deference.
“Of course, Madame, but if you’ll permit me a final one?”
Lauzier made a hand gesture indicating she could ask.
“May we sell the people on the list as indentured workers deep inside the Zone where they’ll never escape nor meet any honest human trader?”
A faint sneer appeared on Lauzier’s face.
“Squeamish, are you?”
“I’d rather not waste the opportunity for extra profits. This is an unforgiving business with tight margins, and it would please me to see the useless drones surrounding you finally do honest work for the first time in their lives.”
“Just be sure they’re never heard from again; that’s all I want. Now, if you’ll call up the passenger manifest, I will point out those you will remove one at a time, every twelve hours, starting today and in the order I tell you.”
Half an hour later, the same mercenary escorted Sara Lauzier back to her lounge in the passenger section, where she was joined by Amali, who closed the door behind them.
“So, what was that about?”
“From what the chief pirate told me, we are bargaining chips in a radical attempt at blackmailing Earth on behalf of colonial sovereignists in the Rim Sector. My father should have received their demands for an immediate path to independence by now along with the threat that the pirates will execute us one by one if the Commonwealth government drags its feet.”
Amali lost every bit of color in his face.
“Oh lord. This is a nightmare. Will you tell the others?”
“And cause immediate panic? No.”
“I disagree.”
She gave him a contemptuous look. “And I don’t care.”
The door to the lounge opened, and two armed pirates entered, heading straight for Amali. He understood immediately and turned crazed eyes on Lauzier.
“Help me!” The words came out as a croak.
The sheer terror writ large on his face was answered by a faint, almost imperceptible look of detached amusement on hers.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Vitus.”
The pirates seized him by the arms, and one of them pressed a spray syringe against his neck. Within moments, Amali was nothing more than a barely conscious automaton, capable of walking with help and not much else.
As the guards took him away, Lauzier murmured, “Always keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Your brother will now be in my debt forever.”
And by having one of her seemingly closest confidants go first, suspicions hinting at her involvement would be muted. Besides, Vitus Amali was tiresome as only a younger, perpetually dissatisfied brother of the most powerful CEO in the Commonwealth could be.
**
When Holt, via a secure comlink, finished briefing Kowalski on the hijackers’ demands, dutifully transmitted from the SecGen’s office to his own by a counterintelligence mole, the latter sat back with a thoughtful expression.
“I still smell a setup, but at least things are moving again. Any idea how those demands were received?”
“With a fair amount of anger and not a bit of badly hidden panic. Lauzier can’t bend, of course, not even for his daughter, but I can promise you if she dies, he’ll make sure the Rim Sector colonies stay under Home World rule forever.”
“See, that’s the sort of thing which makes me think this isn’t what it seems. There’s more at play here, I’m sure of it.”
“Your instincts are good, Kathryn, just like Siobhan’s, and I agree, there has to be more.” Holt tapped the desktop with his fingers, eyes on Kowalski as he let his thoughts roam free. She stared back, lips pressed together. “We already figure the hijacking is a way of discrediting the sovereignists and the Navy. What if executing passengers isn’t about making Earth bend to the colonies’ demands but Lauzier getting inconvenient members of the Commonwealth elite out of the way to help his daughter’s bid for the Senate and soon after that, the top job?”
“Charles Lauzier?” She sounded dubious. “He’s ruthless and amoral, but his being involved in this is too risky. Sara Lauzier on the other hand? Why not. I’ve always figured her as a controlled psychopath, and we know she’s in tight with the SSB — on her father’s behalf, of course, but still. Sara has boundless ambitions and even fewer scruples than Charles. Or rather, where he has residual scruples, she has none whatsoever.”
“Let’s hope Siobhan finds Athena before the ranks of the elite are thinned out, no matter who is running this increasingly bizarre show.” Holt raised his hand as he glanced to one side. “Hold on. One of my desk officers just forwarded an ‘urgent, operational’ I should read while you’re on the link.”
After a few moments, he looked up at Kowalski again.
“Another SSB leak, this one hinting that they’re preparing a rescue mission because the Navy can’t be relied upon.”
She took a deep breath.
“Now I know it’s a damned setup, Zeke. It can’t be anything else. What hostage rescue assets can the SSB deploy?”
“Most certainly more than we know about, but they use private military corporations for their dirty work, so this is probably what they mean. One or two agents controlling a mercenary operation.”
“Perhaps we should ask them exactly which system they’re targeting for the rescue. If it’s Galadiman, we’ll find our proof. Not that it’ll do us a damn bit of good.” Kowalski let out a soft sigh. “The SecGen’s minions are untouchable. But let’s concentrate on the current mission before we consider the SSB’s demise.”
“Absolutely, but at this point, there’s nothing else we can do. Either Athena is where Siobhan expects her, or she isn’t. Either someone with the last name Lauzier is setting up the Rim Sector colonies for a fall and targeting a not inconsiderable percentage of the Commonwealth elite for elimination or not. We simply can’t tell. All we have is supposition while Siobhan may or may not uncover the truth out there.”
A fey smile briefly lit up Kowalski’s face.
“She will — don’t worry.”
— Twenty-Two —
Dunmoore, coffee cup in hand, took the flag CIC’s command chair almost precisely five minutes before Task Force Luckner was due to come out of hyperspace at the Galadiman system’s heliopause. As usual, one-fourth of her RED One crew — this time Lieutenant Commander Olmos and Chief Petty Officer Second Class Hogan — were on duty.
Commander Pushkin, Chief Petty Officer First Class Guthren, and the rest of RED One showed up moments later, only a few steps behind their commanding officer. As Guthren sat at his usual workstation, he rubbed his hands with the glee of a craft master getting to work.
“I’m feeling good about this, Skipper, really good.”
Pushkin gave him an ironic look.
“So, you think Drex didn’t pull a dogleg at the halfway mark to head elsewhere, and this is where the pirates stashed our target? I should break out a deck of cards and see how lucky you actually are.”
“There’s no gambling in Task Force Luckner,” Dunmoore said absently as she read Salamanca’s daily status report.
The transition warning from the bridge cut off Pushkin’s reply.
When the public address system fell quiet, Guthren gave him a knowing wink.
“Luckier than the poor bastards who’ll feel the weight of our broadside in the next twelve hours or so, Commander. Remember, the Skipper is rarely wrong in these matters. She had Drex’s measure within moments. He probably knew about the Athena hijacking and is dead set on telling his bosses that we’re in town, looking for a fight. The bugger wouldn’t waste time making a dogleg as if we were watching for his departure vector after crossing the heliopause. Our Drex of bad memory wasn’t the most imaginative man in the universe. His brother isn’t either, mark my words. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lost his wartime commission during the reduction in force after the armistice, let alone joined the Howlers in a fit of stupidity.”
Pushkin grinned at him. “Don’t hold back, Chief. Tell us what you think.”
The warning klaxon sounded three times at that moment, and everyone in the flag CIC braced themselves for the brief, unpleasant sensation that accompanied transitions to and from hyperspace. But, when it passed, Dunmoore’s staff sprang into action without needing orders.
“All ships have emerged and are running silent.”
“I’m setting up optical links for the status reports.”
“Salamanca is looking for Galadiman.”
“No traces of Vuko or any ship other than ours.”
A faint smile appeared on Dunmoore’s face. It felt good to be a formation commander with a crack team running her CIC. A few minutes passed, then the status reports appeared on her command chair’s virtual display. No issues, as she expected.
“We found Galadiman’s current position, sir. I’m preparing the task force navigation plot. I estimate an eleven-hour jump.”
Dunmoore nodded at Lieutenant Commander Khanjan. “Excellent. Thank you. Signals, please query the Colonial Office subspace network to see if there’s a message for us.”
“Already on it, sir,” Chief Cazano replied.
“Thanks.”
She settled back and composed herself to wait as things proceeded at their own pace. It was the one aspect of formation command she’d never enjoyed overmuch. Finally, Cazano raised her hand.
