No Remorse, page 34
“What do you mean?”
“The man — Montero, I believe his name was — you sent here to comfort Sera Lagman. He served as an object lesson in cooperation for our dear hosts.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Tested his conditioning. Sadly, it worked. Perhaps I should test yours since it appears Trulock wasn’t able to do so. Where is Commander Talyn, by the way? With the prime minister, perchance? Maybe we can set up a link and show her your final moments unless she does as she’s already been told.”
“Ready when you are.”
“I don’t think so, asshole.” Decker turned a contemptuous grin on his foe. “FIRE.”
Four of the sitting room’s windows suddenly found themselves the proud owners of precise holes, courtesy of four plasma rounds. So did the four henchmen. They crumpled noiselessly to the ground. Decker drew his blaster and aimed it at Spaeth.
“Game over.”
“Come now, Decker. You won’t just execute me in cold blood. That’s not your style. Let’s discuss this like fellow professionals.”
“I am not your fellow, and you’re not a professional but a criminal. I gave you the chance to walk away. But proposing to sell Commonwealth citizens, especially people near and dear to me into slavery, on top of fomenting the overthrow of a legitimate government and murdering a Navy officer means there’s no getting away from the death penalty. Don’t worry. I’ll let your bosses on Earth know you won’t make it back for the annual Sécurité Spéciale cockroach ball.”
Decker stroked his blaster’s trigger. It coughed once. A smoking hole appeared where Spaeth’s nose once adorned his face and he keeled over on his side, dead. “We’re five for five, Pegasus.” He turned to the women. “Sorry you had to witness that.”
Berneiser, the more composed of the two nodded.
“You won’t find me disagreeing with your actions, Major Decker. Not after what he did to that poor man. It was awful.”
Ingrid, still mute, simply stared at him with incomprehension, as if she was still processing the sudden and violent change in circumstances.
“Where did they put Lieutenant Commander Montero’s body?”
“You’ll find him in the next room.” Berneiser pointed at a closed door. “He was a brave man, you know.”
Decker nodded. “One of the best. How did Spaeth find this place? Dahlstein told us it was secure.”
Berneiser shrugged. “I don’t know.” But the sudden look of horror in his former spouse’s eyes told him everything. The Sécurité Spéciale officer had used his hold on Ingrid. He briefly wondered how they communicated, then decided it was a question best left unexplored.
“And Montero?”
“He showed up last night, a few hours after Spaeth. They killed the poor man this morning after trying to interrogate him all night without success.”
Vinn’s troopers came through the door in matched pairs at that moment, weapons held high. “Is everything clear, Major?” Sergeant Paulus asked the moment she spotted him.
“Five tangos down. There’s a dead friendly next door. Lieutenant Commander Garrett Montero.”
“Shit. He used to be the 811th Pathfinders’ NILO when I served with the squadron years ago. Great guy. Complained more about jumping than Commander Talyn, but as solid as any of us.” Paulus pointed at two of her people, then at the door. “Secure the commander’s remains.” She turned back toward Zack. “QD called for our taxis. He’s landing them in the front yard. Commander Talyn says we’re to bring Sera Berneiser and Sera Lagman to Hamar. They’ll stay with the prime minister for now.”
Berneiser nodded and climbed to her feet. “Come, Ingrid. We need to pack our things. I doubt we’ll ever come back here. You can chat with Zachary later.”
Decker admired the older woman’s steely temperament in the face of events that would traumatize most people. That quality likely helped propel the Reform League to power.
**
“Promise you’ll come back and visit, Dad. I don’t want to wait another twenty years.” Saga wrapped her arms around Decker’s neck, tears streaming down her face. “And get kidnapped in the bargain.”
“I can only promise I’ll try, Punkie. The Fleet sends me where I’m needed and not where I want, which is why your mother and I couldn’t make a go of it.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask.”
“Promise you’ll take care of your mother? She’ll need time to forgive herself, even though Spaeth gave her no choice.”
“I will. You can be sure of that.”
Decker’s reunion with Ingrid was as awkward as he’d feared, though they carefully tiptoed around the matter of Spaeth forcing her to betray Berneiser. But after the first few days, during which he oversaw Vinn’s Marines helping the Scandia Regiment and loyal elements in the Police Authority arrest traitors, they settled into a reasonably comfortable relationship.
Saga joined her mother at the prime ministerial residence, safe behind a curtain of armored soldiers, two days after the attempted coup, allowing Decker a brief facsimile of family life before orders from Caledonia poured in. To Decker’s relief, the Grand Admiral even sent his personal approval of the Scandia Regiment helping Dahlstein’s government per the latter’s formal request, thereby enshrining fiction as fact.
Talyn, with a few of Vinn’s more experienced operators, rolled up the last of Spaeth’s operation, though she left the local Sécurité Spéciale field office to its own devices. They never found out why the locals were interested in Montero’s Mattias Kenly identity, or Haukka. But a week after the attempted coup, with the situation on Scandia settling, Sorcerer and H Troop were ordered home. Separate orders recalled Talyn and Decker aboard Phoenix and instructed both Q-ships to sail in company.
He’d already made his farewells with Salminen, Gulliksen and the Scandia Regiment, promising to visit at the first occasion. When he released Saga, Prime Minister Dahlstein entered the residence’s main room.
“I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye as well, Major. Though you won’t get that sort of hug from me.” He stretched out his hand. “Thank you for risking your career to keep this planet from erupting in violence, and please thank your superiors for their support, even if it was after the fact. The road ahead will be long and arduous. But things are looking up.
“Viveca Nygaard just announced her resignation as governor general. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court will fill the position in the interim. I don’t doubt the People’s Alliance will soon oust Rollo Ilsberg as well. Too many of its members are horrified by his actions. However, I fear cleaning out the security services will take time. Thankfully, we can count on Vaino Salminen to rebuild the National Guard as an apolitical organization. He’s just accepted my offer to become chief of staff and replace Karlsen as soon as his retirement from the Army comes into effect.”
“General Salminen, eh? I can’t think of a better man for the job. The Army’s loss is your gain, sir.”
“It is indeed. Please pass my government’s sympathies to the families of Lance Corporal Dannik and Lieutenant Commander Montero.”
Decker, impressed that Dahlstein would remember the names, nodded. “I will.” He heard the door open behind him, then Talyn’s familiar footsteps. “I believe my commanding officer is about to whisk me away.”
“The Fleet waits for no one,” Talyn intoned with mock solemnity. “Prime Minister, a pleasure. If offworlders give you grief again, call us. We run a reasonably good extermination service.” Then, she turned to Saga. “Honey, I promise I’ll try to keep your father safe, but he has a mind of his own. I was glad to meet you, and am a bit jealous Zack has such a lovely daughter. Take care and good luck with your doctoral examinations.”
“Thank you, Commander — Hera.” Saga planted one last kiss on Decker’s cheek, then wiped away the tears. “Fair winds and following seas, Dad.”
“Talk to you soon, Punkie.”
**
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was dusty in here,” Talyn commented once the Scandia Regiment aircar taking them to Phoenix lifted away from the residence. “But then, I’ve always known there was a tight bundle of emotions beneath that thick shell.”
Decker gave her the rigid digit salute. “No editorial comments from the childless gallery.”
She winced. “Ouch. Good thing I have no feelings to hurt.”
The Marine relented with a sigh. “Those twenty years I lost with Saga bother me more than I thought. But I’ll give Ingrid credit. She raised a fine, upstanding human being.”
“Who shares your DNA. You’re a stand-up guy through and through who was there during her most important early years. I’d say part of the credit is yours as well.”
He leered at her. “Flattery will get you everywhere, but let’s wait until we’ve gone FTL.”
“How was Ingrid?”
“Afraid I’d bring up the fact she fed the Villa Three Lilies location, among other secrets, to Spaeth and his henchmen. I think Ingrid will live with the guilt forever. But seeing her again like this reminded me our divorce was probably for the better. We can at least be friends now. She wants to step away from politics, for what that’s worth, but after meeting the redoubtable Alisa Berneiser, I can only wish her luck.”
They watched Hamar fade behind them, then settled back in companionable silence for the rest of the trip north. A few hours later, Phoenix joined Sorcerer in orbit. By the time Scandia’s sun rose over Hamar the next morning both ships were in hyperspace, speeding away from the Rim Sector.
— THIRTY-THREE —
“Commander Talyn, Major Decker, I’m pleased you could make it.” Colonel Martinson, the 1st Marine Special Forces Regiment’s CO waved them into his office. They, like Martinson, wore full dress uniform, with medals and awards, and carried sheathed swords. “You’re here for the funerals, I gather. You heard Garrett Montero is being interred here in Fort Arnhem, right? He had no family and made no specific requests. Since he was a NILO, it seems only right.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, sir,” Decker replied. “As a matter of fact, we have a special request. We’d like to join the escort itself. It’s the least we can do for Lance Corporal Dannik and Lieutenant Commander Montero. We owe them more than we could ever repay.”
Martinson looked at each of them in turn, then nodded. “Permission granted. Artur Letts, the officer commanding C Squadron, who you might remember, is in charge of the funeral escort. I’m sure he won’t object. But I want something from you in return, Major.”
“Sir?”
“You know you’ll never serve with the 9th Marines again. No one who transfers to special operations ever goes back to his old unit, especially officers who work for Naval Intelligence. I’d say you’re truly one of us by now. Don’t you think it’s time you acknowledged your real home?”
“You want me to re-badge, sir? Put up the winged dagger. Now?”
“That’s what I implied. You’ll even skip indoctrination week. I’ll give you a bye.” Martinson smiled at Talyn. “Has he taken a hit on the head recently?”
“Several.” She nudged her partner. “The colonel is right, Zack.”
Decker drew himself to attention. “It would be an honor to join the 1st Special Forces’ regimental family, sir.”
Martinson stuck his head through a side door. “RSM, Major Decker has kindly accepted my invitation. If you’d like to help me do the honors.”
“Sir!”
When Zack saw his old friend Augustus Vanlith march in, black rosewood cane tucked under his arm, he broke out into a broad grin. “How the hell did you end up as regimental sergeant major without me knowing?”
The two men exchanged a vigorous handclasp in preference to a bear hug, for fear of tangling their impressive medal racks. “They posted me in while you were gallivanting across the Rim Sector. HQ finally stood down the 251st. Kal Ryent’s a lieutenant colonel now, over at JSOC, in your neck of the woods.”
“Good for you, Gus. It’s a deserved honor. And good for Kal, though I’m sorry to see a kick-ass outfit like the 251st struck from the order of battle.”
“Our run was longer than most.”
Martinson cleared his throat. “You two can catch up later. Right now, we need to outfit Major Decker with the proper insignia so he can escort Reg Dannik and Garret Montero to their final resting place as one of us.”
“I have just the thing.” Vanlith fished a beret badge, two small collar insignias, and two metallic shoulder titles from his tunic pocket. “If the colonel would take care of the big one, the commander and I can put up the little bits.”
Once the swap was concluded, Martinson held out his hand. “Welcome home, Zack. The new regimentals look good on you. I’m sure Reg Dannik would have appreciated you wearing the winged dagger for his last parade.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“RSM, Commander Talyn and Major Decker will march as part of the escort.”
“I figured they might. Major Letts and C Squadron will be glad they’re aboard.” Vanleith glanced at the time. “We need to head for the chapel. The service starts in ten minutes.”
As they were walking out, Decker asked Talyn in a whisper, “Did you know about this regimental transfer?”
“Of course. The commodore suggested it. You won’t be an intelligence operative forever, and neither will I. For the good of the Fleet, you’re best employed here once the day comes.”
“Oh.” Decker experienced a brief flashback to his disturbing dreams. “When will that be?”
“Not today, nor even next month. I’m sure we’ll be hunting the Coalition as a team for several more years.”
**
“Funeral Party, slow MARCH.”
Drums began to beat the pace as the long column swung into motion. Two combat cars, each carrying a flag-covered casket on its back deck, rode side-by-side, followed by six pallbearers apiece. Behind them marched two troopers holding black cushions, one with Dannik’s jump wings and medals, the other with Montero’s. Two sergeants, each carrying a sky blue beret, Montero’s with a winged dagger badge pinned beside the Navy’s starburst and anchor insignia, closed the cortege. The escort, three columns of troopers from C Squadron to either side of the combat cars, marched behind Decker and Talyn while Major Letts and a full-sized military band opened the way.
Officers carried their swords reversed, tucked under the arm, right hand holding the hilt high while the left hand grasped the tip in the small of the back. The troopers held their carbines in a similar fashion, tucked under the arm, with the stocks resting in their right hands and muzzles pointing backward.
As the cortege left Fort Arnhem’s chapel and wound its way to the cemetery, a single set of bagpipes took up a slow, mournful lament. An anonymous voice in the escort joined the pipes, singing a song of loss and remembrance that was old well before humanity reached for the stars.
When the singer reached the chorus, everyone — the escort and the mourners following behind — took up the refrain, their words echoing over the hills. A shiver ran down Decker’s spine at the sheer emotion of the moment.
They finally reached the side-by-side grave sites, where the rest of the regiment and every member of the Pathfinder School waited. Decker was surprised to see the Commandant of the Marine Corps, the Chief of Naval Operations as well as the Chief of Naval Intelligence and Commodore Ulrich among the mourners.
Still marching to the slow beat of the drums and the wail of the pipes, the escort spread out to form a three-sided box around the graves. When the pallbearers lifted the caskets off the combat cars, Letts gave the order to present arms.
The mourners facing them raised their hands in salute until the caskets rested on their lifts over the open graves. As they shouldered arms, another surprise awaited Decker. Instead of the pallbearers removing and folding both flags, the cushion carriers and sergeants carefully placed their charges on the caskets.
“Attention to orders.” Colonel Martinson’s voice rang out over the quiet, almost bucolic cemetery.
The Commandant of the Marine Corps stepped forward. “In recognition for his selfless act of bravery during a classified mission, an act that without a doubt saved many of his comrades’ lives, Lance Corporal Reginald Dannik is hereby awarded the Medal of Honor.” He leaned over and placed the medal beside Dannik’s other awards on the cushion.
Tears welled up Decker’s eyes. The red tape ninjas at HQ finally got something right.
“Attention to orders,” Martinson repeated once the Commandant stepped back into the ranks of mourners.
The Chief of Naval Intelligence approached Montero’s coffin. “In recognition for a career of selfless service as an intelligence field operative willing to take on the most perilous classified missions, Lieutenant Commander Garrett Montero is hereby awarded the Cross of Valor.” Imitating the Commandant, Admiral Kruczek placed the medal on the cushion carrying Montero’s awards.
The four bearers retrieved their charges while a lone piper, walking on the ridge overlooking the cemetery, began to play Amazing Grace. The pallbearers then recovered the flags and folded them into precise triangles, with only one of the silver stars showing on the blue background. Since no family members were in attendance, Colonel Martinson accepted Dannik’s flag, while Commodore Ulrich took Montero’s.
“Firing party, take position.”
Ten troopers and one sergeant left the escort’s ranks and lined up in two rows of five, one row alongside each grave, with the sergeant taking position between them.
“Firing party, LOAD.”
Ten antique chemical propellant-based rifles came up, and ten breech blocks snapped back and forth. The piper segued into Auld Lang Syne.
“Firing party, PRESENT.” Five rifles pointed up at an acute angle over each casket.
“Escort, present ARMS.” Decker brought his sword up, hilt to the lips, then swung it down in a graceful arc until the tip almost touched the ground.
“FIRE.” The thunder of ten blank shots rolled over the escort and mourners.
