No Remorse, page 24
The taxi dropped Talyn in front of a wrought iron gate that pierced a wall protected by sensors and what Talyn suspected were remote weapons stations. Decker chose that moment to come through the manor’s front door. He wasn’t alone. The man at his side, although thinner, older, and weaker looking than the Marine, was surrounded by an invisible, yet deadly nimbus she recognized as a kindred to her own.
He was another soulless human, capable of anything to further whatever cause he served. And in this case, the cause was that of the Coalition and its ambitions, since he was evidently Sécurité Spéciale, one of the SecGen’s henchmen. A senior one if her instincts were correct. To see her partner at ease with such a man, and wearing a similar dark business suit, made her feel even colder inside.
What price did they put on Saga’s life? His loyalty, which she thought to be inviolable? No, she couldn’t believe he would give up that which defined his very being — the deeply held sense of honor that made him Zachary Thomas Decker, Commonwealth Marine Corps. Her partner was playing a long game.
Decker smiled and raised his hand in greeting. “You took your time.”
The gate slid aside silently, and Talyn stepped through, eyes never leaving the Marine and his shadow.
“Welcome, Commander Talyn,” the latter said, with a brief bow of the head. “I am Spaeth, although Major Decker no doubt has several other, likely unflattering names for me. As you might surmise, I’m an officer in the Sécurité Spéciale, the organization you and he have just joined.”
“How does that work?” She asked with a sardonic smile. “I don’t recall volunteering for the SecGen’s Own Scumbags.”
Spaeth shook his head in mock exasperation. “Try to be polite, Commander. If you’ll follow us, Major Decker will explain the situation. Once you understand your and his position, we can discuss the mission for which we’ve recruited you.”
She glanced at Zack who returned a nod so faint, anyone else might miss it. But the expression in his eyes told her he was dead serious about cooperating with the Sécurité Spéciale. At least on the surface.
As Spaeth led them into the manor, he glanced over his shoulder at Talyn. “I assume you’re armed, Commander. We won’t take your weapons but please do nothing regrettable until you understand the situation.”
“So you’re saying I can do something regrettable once I know?” She smirked at him.
“I see you share Major Decker’s questionable sense of humor.”
“The big guy rubs off on me.”
“In more ways than one,” Zack added.
“What is this place, Ser Spaeth?” She asked.
“Saemund Manor belongs to the Scandian Security Intelligence Agency, which has temporarily turned it over to us. They use the manor mostly as a training institution. But its underground facilities have been turned into a black site not much different from the ones Naval Intelligence operates on Caledonia and elsewhere.”
“Charming.”
“I can show you around if you wish, but we’ll be working in the institutional part of the manor, above ground. Major Decker can tell you about the black site beneath our feet.”
Talyn looked around as they walked down a long corridor pierced by numbered doors on either side. Here and there, the odd bit of decoration on the walls provided a modicum of color. “The place looks very pedestrian.”
“But it has excellent amenities for people such as you or me.” Spaeth stopped at an open door and waved them through. “Major Decker has much to tell you. I shall return when he’s done.”
“You’ll be listening?”
Spaeth inclined his bald head. “Of course. Trust is a dirty word in our business, don’t you think?”
“Trust has its place, provided one verifies.”
“Perhaps.” Then, Spaeth vanished into the hallway, and the door to the small conference room slid shut with a soft sigh.
“So...” Talyn slowly walked around the oval, imitation wood table, examining her surroundings. “We work for the Sécurité Spéciale now, do we? You’ll need to explain because I feel like I’ve stepped through the looking glass and might meet a giant rodent at any moment. Switching loyalties at my age isn’t as easy as it might be for a youngster such as yourself.”
Decker pointed at two adjoining chairs. “Why don’t we sit? This will take a while to explain.”
**
Talyn studied her partner’s face when he finished telling her about his abduction, meeting Saga in a virtual reality environment and Spaeth’s threat to sell his daughter into slavery.
“You’re sure it was her?”
“A father can tell, Hera. There’s no way they could fake it.”
“I can think of a few ways, but they involve things that might kill her. What if she’s already dead, or a mind probe vegetable?”
“Do you expect me to take that chance?” Decker’s fingers touched the back of her left hand in what looked like a caress, but was, in fact, a tactile language taught to Special Operations agents.
We play along to gain time, find out where she is.
Talyn placed her right hand over Decker’s.
And help overthrow the government?
“No, I don’t, Zack.”
What if we’re tools to be discarded afterward? She tapped. Or worse, means to compromise the Fleet?
“As a wise man said, where there’s life, there’s hope. Saga’s only hope is for us to switch sides.”
We can fuck up the overthrow and still look like we’re cooperating.
“You understand that once we’ve compromised ourselves by helping the Sécurité Spéciale, there’s no way back. We’ll be following in Manfred Yang’s footsteps.”
Decker chuckled. “Actually, we’ll be doing one better. You and I will work directly with the SecGen’s minions rather than a cabal of deluded officers led astray by the Coalition.”
“And if I say no?”
“Our new friends will deal with you while I carry out the mission. I won’t let you do anything that’ll end up with Saga as some alien bastard’s flesh doll deep inside the Protectorate Zone.”
“I could kill you right here and now before Spaeth’s gorillas can intervene.”
If saving her means chaos, she must be sacrificed.
Talyn held her partner’s stare until Decker nodded his grudging acceptance. “But we’ve been a team for too long, Zack. Let’s see where this takes us. In other words, I’m with you.”
We’ll sort these assholes out.
Talyn gave him a final caress. I hope you’re right.
Spaeth chose that moment to return. He gave them an ironic smile. “I’m glad to see you’re intimate enough to hold hands. That means my extra motivation will be as effective as I’ve hoped.”
Decker gave him a dangerous glare. “What do you mean?”
“I believe you’ll work with us to save your daughter from a fate worse than death, Major, but Commander Talyn has no such motivation. She couldn’t care for Saga Lagman’s fate if she tried. It’s just not in her. Your fate on the other hand...” Spaeth turned his eyes on Talyn. “Believe me when I tell you this. Should you fail to follow our orders, Major Decker’s daughter will be sold into slavery, and he will die.”
“How do you propose to kill him, considering every attempt on his life so far ended in failure?”
“When Major Decker communed with the lovely Saga in the VR environment, we planted something akin to a mental bomb in his subconscious. Given the proper instructions, it will kill him by tricking his brain into believing it was under chemical interrogation. You can guess what happens once his conditioning kicks in.” He paused for effect before continuing. “The human psyche is a powerful thing, Commander. You’ll find that contrary to Naval Intelligence, the Sécurité Spéciale has not shied away from weaponizing it. As I was telling Major Decker, we ran a very promising project a few years ago. It produced enough results before its abrupt end to give our scientists a way of using virtual reality as a control mechanism.”
Talyn snorted in disbelief to hide a sinking feeling in her gut as she connected Spaeth’s words with Doctor Sakal’s research, interrupted only when Decker rescued her from Coalition servitude. “I find that very hard to believe.” When she glanced at her partner only to see understanding dawn in his eyes, the sick feeling solidified into an indigestible knot.
Decker now knew beyond any doubt the meaning of that brief mind touch after meeting his daughter in the VR environment.
“I don’t find it hard to believe because I felt it happen without knowing what that was.”
Spaeth’s smile broadened. “Good. We won’t waste time with a demonstration that can be extremely distressing. Now we’re on the same page, we can move forward. Time is of the essence. We hoped to see you on our team well before today, but you’ve been incredibly hard to catch. I was wondering whether you cared for your biological daughter, Major Decker.”
“We rarely respond to invitations delivered via illegal means, Spaeth,” Zack replied. “Though I wonder if you clowns know legality from a tear in the fabric of space.”
“You clowns?” Spaeth’s tone was deliberately mocking. “Surely you mean we clowns, only don’t mistake appearance for reality. We do things for the betterment of humanity that are beyond anything Naval Intelligence, and the Fleet as a whole can contemplate. Or perhaps even comprehend.”
“Such as weaponizing the human psyche against its will.”
Spaeth inclined his head. “Just so.”
“How is that for the betterment of humanity?”
“Come now, Commander. Surely an experienced operative such as yourself understands that it is not the act itself but the results that count.”
“One can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs, or suborn a Marine officer and his partner without kidnapping and threatening a young woman’s future.”
“See, you understand.” Spaeth gestured toward the door. “Shall we repair to the briefing room and introduce you to your mission? As I mentioned, time is fleeting, and I’m sure the major’s daughter would like to resume her doctoral studies.”
**
The briefing room was empty save for Evil Pixie, whose real name was Trulock. Sécurité Spéciale officers didn’t seem to have first names or at least none they’d admit owning. Perhaps the SecGen didn’t pay them enough to afford one. They took seats around a conference table while Trulock switched on a wall-sized display.
“In four days,” Spaeth began, “the Scandian government, under the leadership of Prime Minister Dasco Dahlstein of the Reform League, will ask parliament to hold a vote enacting new legislation. And word is Dahlstein can count on the minor parties to give him more than the required two-thirds approval, thereby enshrining the new law as an amendment to the Scandian constitution. It will disrupt the long-standing balance of power in this star system. The ripples will be felt throughout the Rim Sector if not across human space.
“For many reasons, most of which you can probably guess, the SecGen and his administration wish to prevent Prime Minister Dahlstein from carrying out his intent. For the greater good of the Commonwealth, of course. Dahlstein has rebuffed representations made by the Commonwealth High Commissioner to Scandia and the Scandian Governor General. This leaves us no options other than to remove his government.”
“You remember that direct interference in star system affairs by Earth precipitated humanity’s last civil war in which billions died, right? That the intra-human peace we’ve enjoyed since is based on respect for star system sovereignty?”
“Of course, Major. But in this case, a sizable part of the population, including the most important citizens, believe Dahlstein cannot be allowed to continue destroying what previous governments built over the last few decades.”
Decker exhaled noisily. “Sizable does not mean a majority, Spaeth. I daresay the majority is happy at the respite from years of People’s Alliance corruption and misrule, and is equally pleased with the prospect of never having to live through another multi-generation political dynasty.”
“But that majority does not include those with the most stake in Scandia and its interests, be it here or elsewhere in the Rim Sector. I’m talking about the civil society and business leaders whose endeavors give this planet its high standard of living, something Dahlstein and his people are imperiling by their appeal to the blind prejudices of an unenlightened citizenry. In any case, I don’t intend to debate planetary politics with you. Earth gave us a job and an explanation why this is necessary. I’m sure you’re familiar with Alfred Lord Tennyson and his most famous poem.”
Decker nodded. “Ours not to reason why.”
“Consider it one of the Sécurité Spéciale’s unofficial mottoes. May I continue?”
“Sure. It’s your mission briefing.”
Spaeth touched controls embedded in the table’s surface, and a man’s image materialized on the display. Lean, hard-faced, and dapper, he wore his blond, almost white hair in what Marines called a high and tight.
“Prime Minister Dasco Dahlstein.”
The image of a woman joined Dahlstein’s. She was handsome, well-coiffed with long platinum tresses. Although appearing somewhat older than the prime minister, she shared his elegance and steely look of determination.
“Alisa Berneiser, the Reform League’s number two and many say the true power behind the prime ministerial chair. This pair represents the greatest threat to Commonwealth interests in the Rim Sector. They’re widely reviled among those who still see Scandia as a progressive star system in sync with Earth’s vision. Your mission will be to assassinate them this Friday, immediately before the parliamentary vote, thereby clearing the way for a national government of salvation under the leadership of the People’s Alliance. The Alliance will be called on to do so by Governor General Viveca Nygaard, who also shares Earth’s vision, and form a new cabinet with emergency powers until fresh elections can be held under the existing laws.”
“So basically, our job is to precipitate a putsch against the duly elected government.”
“That’s the mission Earth has given us. I happen to share the opinion it’s the only way we can prevent further rifts between restive star systems and the Commonwealth government. An example to encourage others if you like.” Spaeth nodded at the display. “Commander Talyn, your target is Dahlstein, the more difficult of the two since he enjoys the protection of a special unit from the Scandian Police Authority. Major Decker, you’re to assassinate Berneiser, who I understand is a good friend of Ingrid Lagman, Saga’s mother. That gives you a way to move in without attracting undue attention. You have four days to prepare and deploy. Dahlstein and Berneiser must be dead by ten in the morning, Hamar time, on Friday.”
“What if we’re ready before Friday?”
“Then you will wait. Your actions are merely the trigger to set off a much larger sequence of events we’ve meticulously planned, events that depend on precise timing to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed and destruction.”
“Such as the National Guard securing the parliamentary precinct, no doubt. In case the deaths of the planet’s two leading political figures throws their party membership into disarray.”
Another thin smile twisted Spaeth’s lips. “Precisely. I’m glad to see you’re getting into the spirit of things. You’ll be granted access to the armory for whatever weapons and equipment you might wish, and of course the intelligence we’ve collected on both targets. Trulock will be at your disposal throughout the mission. Consider her your aide. And if you try to play us false, she’ll be your executioner. She has access to the levers that trigger punishment for non-compliance.”
Trulock gave Decker a hungry smile which he returned with a blown kiss and a leer.
Spaeth climbed to his feet. “If you need to speak with me, I’ll be around until tomorrow morning. After that, I’m expected in Hamar. Don’t disappoint us. You can expect a bright future working within our organization. The only alternative open to you is a painful death knowing an innocent will spend her life treated like an animal.”
“Well.” Decker rubbed his hands together with mock glee. “I’m convinced. Let’s pour starship fuel over Scandia and light it up bright enough our sainted SecGen on Earth will see the extent of his power when he gazes at the night sky over Geneva.”
“Wrong hemisphere, honey,” Talyn replied. “He must be in the land of your distant ancestors to see us torch this world and wait a long time for visible light waves to reach Earth. We’re better off sending him pictures via subspace radio.”
“How about you two comedians start preparing? We don’t enjoy the luxury of time and failure will guarantee a bleak future for Saga Lagman, not to mention the end of your lives.”
Decker gave his partner a look of exasperation. “Did you notice our new colleagues are masters at the fine art of being killjoys?”
— TWENTY-FIVE —
“Gimme another shot and a beer, Tolo.” A stout man bellied up to the bar beside Montero. His short hair, leathery face, and long-distance squint marked him as a career noncom, like many in this pub. It, and the one he visited with Talyn before she left to find her partner, seemed to serve as an annex to the Hamar Brigade’s sergeants’ mess. “Every time I think about the damn parade practice they laid on for Friday I get thirsty all over again.”
“You guys celebrating something, or are your officers getting bored?” Montero asked.
The noncom sized him up, eyes lingering on the tall glass of amber ale in the agent’s hand. “What’s it to you, stranger?”
Montero gave the man a crooked smile. “Twenty years in the Commonwealth Army before I cashed out and set myself up as an independent trader. I’ve lived through plenty of officer nonsense back in the day.”
“You were a noncom?”
“Sergeant first class, infantry, Cimmeria Regiment. The name’s Dmitri Rauck.” Montero drained his glass and caught the bartender’s eye. “Give me a shot and a beer as well. Put his on my tab.”
“That’s mighty nice of you, Dmitri. I’m Johan Eltham, Hamar Brigade, Scandian National Guard. I’m a company quartermaster sergeant. What brings you here?” Eltham studied Montero with the gimlet eye of an old soldier who believes he can spot bullshit in a microsecond.
