Crossfire Station, page 6
Tamura looked at Quinn for a long minute, nodded, then said, “I think I can probably go along with that, Lieutenant. Keep me informed about your findings, every step of the way, and once your investigation is concluded, we can make a joint report to our mutual superiors.”
Cracking a smile, Quinn replied, “As long as we have an understanding about the conduct of the investigation.”
“Do your job, Lieutenant. Just don’t prevent me doing mine.”
Chapter 7
“Lieutenant,” Cortez said, running to catch him as he made his way down the corridor. “I think I’ve got something.”
“You managed to get into the core of the network?” he asked.
“Huh? No, I did that last night. I’ve just got the first reports from the data miners I sent into the system. The hardware’s so old, it’s taken them a while to get going.” She held up a tablet, and said, “Except that eight months ago, someone ordered a massive increase in data storage. Treble the previous volume, and as far as I can work out, there’s no reason why. We weren’t using the storage we had.”
“Is it being used?”
“Not as far as I know. It’s locked into a separate partition, but it’s been effectively left blank. We’re talking about a ten million credit investment. That wasn’t going to be frivolous.”
“Who signed off on it?”
“That’s the other thing,” she replied. “Nobody on the station asked for it. IDC just did it. Though I figure you might be interested in two of the names associated with the work.”
“Dupont? I thought he was in charge of Traffic Control…”
“He was Acting Systems Administrator for a couple of months, while they were waiting for a replacement. It would have been a step up if he’d got the permanent job, and technically he was minimally qualified…”
Nodding, Quinn said, “So it would have looked like he was simply trying to earn points towards his next promotion. What about the other name?”
“Try Sergei Webb. He came out with the installation crew and stayed on afterwards, but not in the station administration. Freelance technician. Lot of them on the station these days.”
“Interesting.” He paused, then said, “How many people would have been on that installation crew?”
“Maybe a dozen. It’s not the sort of thing the local technicians could have handled. Though they might not have been IDC employees. Some of them could have been contractors. I think Webb was.” She paused, then said, “You think the installation was an excuse?”
“What sort of access would have been needed?”
“Integration into the network should have been simple enough. I had a look at the physical hardware, and everything checks out. I even ran a full diagnostic, no defects, nothing at all.”
“See if you can find copies of the work orders, everything they did while they were here on the station. That must be buried in there somewhere, and it’ll tell us where they went. I’m going to guess if there’s any contraband on the station, that’s when they brought it here. Track the names of all those involved, and pass them to Station Security.” He paused, smiled, and said, “You might suggest to Old Nick that he has them checked for cranial bombs.”
“If we pick them up, they’ll know we’re on to them.”
“That’s precisely what I want,” he replied. “Right now we’re working on their schedule. I’d like to start forcing them to work on ours, and the first step is to force them out of their complacency a little, make them think we know more than we actually do. Make them advance their plans.”
“Whatever it is, we’re not ready.”
He shrugged, and replied, “That’s not going to change any time soon. The best we can do is make sure they’re as unprepared as we are.” He paused, then said, “Follow up on Riley and Zhang, as well. I don’t think they were associated with Dupont except as camouflage, but there’s something there. I just don’t know what.”
“I’ll go over their files again when I get a chance,” she replied. “Good thing I watched all those old cop shows as a kid. Never figured I’d end up doing it for real, though.”
“The way things are going around here, you might end up running Station Security by the time we’re done.” He paused at the entrance of the Prospector’s Union, turned to the hacker, and said, “Make sure you keep all of your tracks covered. Don’t assume that the enemy is dumb. They aren’t. So far, our side has been playing the fool.”
“I know the risks, Lieutenant,” she replied. “They killed my parents…”
“And I don’t want them to kill their daughter,” Quinn interrupted. “This isn’t a matter of revenge. It’s about justice. And making sure that they can’t hurt anyone else. If it gets too personal, back away. I mean it.”
She looked into his eyes, and said, “I can’t, Lieutenant. I won’t.” She paused, then asked, “Would you?”
He returned her gaze, smiled, then said, “Probably not. Which doesn’t mean I won’t try and convince you to be sensible.” Turning to the door, he said, “Speaking of which, wish me luck. I think I’m going to need all the help I can get in there.”
With a nod, she said, “I’ll get to work right away. Maybe I can start making you some of that luck.”
“Thanks,” he replied, turning to the door, stepping inside.
The Prospector’s Union looked more like a canteen than a bar, a series of folding tables scattered around the room, beer served in cans rather than glasses, paper plates with snacks liberally arranged. To his surprise, Zhang was in the room, sitting near the back, engaged in deep conversation with one of the older pilots. The room was almost at capacity, thirty-odd people sitting around, their conversation brought to a halt as Quinn entered in his uniform, Wolfe smiling as he approached.
“Ah, Lieutenant Quinn. I’m glad you could make it. How’s the arm.”
“Hurts like hell, but I’m fine,” he replied.
“That’s Painless Pete for you,” a familiar voice said. Quinn turned to see a woman flashing a beaming smile, one of the few in the room, and she added, “Jackie Esposito. We met in the sky. I think you called me crazy.”
“Something like that, and I stand by every word.” He moved to stand next to Wolfe, and said, “I don’t know what you’ve been discussing before I arrived, but I’m here to tell you what the Space Corps is planning.”
“You bringing in a squadron?” a gruff, old man asked.
Quinn shook his head, and replied, “I’ve called for backup, but we’re not going to get a full squadron. We can expect some help to get here, but it’s not likely to arrive for a while. That means we’re thrown on our own resources until it gets here.” The crowd began to babble, but he pressed on, continuing, “Which means I’m going to need your help if we’re going to stop the raiders.”
“Just what does that mean?” the old man asked.
“For one, I need access to your sensor records, and ideally, the chance to gather your sensor data in flight.” Before anyone could reply, he added, “The Space Corps will treat all of your information was classified, and nobody will be allowed access to it. You’ve got my word on that.”
The old man rose, and began, “Look, Lieutenant…”
“Can I have your name, sir?” Quinn asked. “I gave you mine, after all.”
“Fair enough. I’m Sam Ramsey, and I’ve been running the Ring for ten years and change. Lieutenant, with all respect, I don’t know you. None of us do. All we’ve seen since you got here is that you gunned down three men in a bar and had a knife fight in my favorite breakfast place. That’s not much of a recommendation. We know you’re working with IDC. We know they’re after our data for their own purposes.” He looked around the room, and said, “We’re taking all the risks, Lieutenant. We deserve to get the rewards.”
“Yeah,” one of the others said, amid a chorus of supportive murmurs.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Quinn replied. “If that’s the way you feel, then there’s nothing we can do for you. I can’t protect you if you won’t share your flight data, and don’t try and tell me that any of you are filing even remotely accurate flight plans right now.”
“The Space Corps is meant to protect us,” a voice from the back said.
Esposito turned to face the new speaker, and said, “The way you fly, God himself couldn’t protect you, Jerrod. Let the man speak.”
“The raiders know where you are going,” Quinn replied. “That much is obvious at this stage. They’re out there, ready to steal everything you’ve found out there, and plan to use it to fund terrorist organizations.” He paused, then added, “Sooner or later, if this gets worse, IDC will decide to scream for help, and we’ll end up sending a carrier out here. By then, of course, more than half of you will probably be dead, and the rest will lose any claims they have in the system when the big dogs move in. You’re operating off the grid right now. That means you’re taking risks.”
“You haven’t got anything to help us anyway,” Ramsey said. “Some of us are thinking that we need to start helping ourselves, without giving over all of our information to IDC or their friends. No offense.”
“Just what do you mean by that?”
“I mean that we’re going to start arming our ships.”
Quinn took a step forward, and replied, “I think that would be a very, very bad idea.”
“Just what are you going to do to stop us?” He grinned, and said, “You talk a good game, Lieutenant, but…”
The man froze as he looked down to see the barrel of a maser pistol pointing square at his chest, and Quinn replied, “That weapon has less than a thousandth of the power of anything you might be planning to mount on your shuttle. One touch of the trigger, and you die. I spent a long, long time learning how to do that, and I spent even longer learning to become a combat pilot. I’m a certified ace, eight kills to my name, all earned in the Six Suns War. A war that started because some crazy men like you decided they needed to defend themselves. The Space Corps is the only armed organization permitted under the law. I’ll die to defend that law.” Holstering his weapon, he added, “You go into battle with the ships you have, you’ll wish I’d pulled the trigger.”
“You could have killed me,” Ramsey said, his face pale.
“Just giving you a taste of things to come. That’s how it works in a firefight. Two ships fly in, one flies out. One pilot lives, one dies. And in that game, it’s all about training and skill. You don’t have either. That guarantees that you die. Vigilante groups are fine when all you need is a club and a torch. Not with high-spec maser cannons and plasma lances. And anyone who thinks different is welcome to hit the simulators and take me on. If you win, I’ll help fit those guns to your shuttles myself. You won’t.”
“I might take that bet, Lieutenant,” Esposito said. “Just for fun.”
With a wry smile, Quinn moved back to his place, and said, “I get it. You don’t trust me. That’s fine. You need to start trusting each other. Don’t go out alone. Go in convoys, and let me know when you are departing, and at least a rough idea of where you are flying. I can be on standby to come and help if needed. Do that much, at least.”
Wolfe shook her head, and said, “This bunch aren’t going to work together that well, Lieutenant. Not all of them.”
“Then a dozen, or half a dozen. You ought to be doing that anyway, set up a proper search pattern, rather than duplicating work. If what I’m told is right, there’s enough money out there for all of you to share, more than the whole population of this station could spend in a lifetime. Right now, a few of you strike rich. More of you die. It’s going to go on that way until word gets out that a terrorist group is trying to find it, and that’ll force the Space Corps to move in and take over. I don’t want that to happen. Neither do you. But that decision is in your hands, not mine.” Turning to Wolfe, he added, “My fighter is armed and ready for action. If I know I’m needed, I’ll go onto five-minute readiness to launch. I can’t do that around the clock, so I’ll need at least that minimal level of cooperation if we’re going to make this work.”
Wolfe looked at the prospectors, then back at Quinn, and said, “We’ll talk about it, Lieutenant. That’s all I can promise at the moment.”
Nodding, he made for the door, pausing and turning at the threshold to address the room once more, saying, “I’m willing to fight for you. I’m willing to kill for you. I’m even willing to die for you. That’s what the oath I swore says, what the uniform I wear means. All I’m asking you to do is give me a chance to help save your lives. If your pride, your precious data is more important to you than carrying on breathing, feel free to carry on as you are. If any of you want to help stop those bastards out there, you’re going to have to compromise. If you don’t, you’ll die. Good night.”
Without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving only stunned silence in his wake.
Chapter 8
Wolfe walked into Quinn’s office, a frown on her face, and said, “I’m not sure if the shock treatment worked or not, but Sam Ramsey’s going to take out a convoy of eight ships late tonight, around oh-three. He’s sending some of the flight details to you now. Not enough for you to be able to plot his flight path, but hopefully enough that you can ride to the rescue if needed.”
“That’s a start,” Quinn replied. “Everyone on this damn station’s more interested in working for themselves than for anyone else.”
With a shrug, the veteran pilot said, “That’s just the way it is out here.”
Before Quinn could reply, a light flicked on his desk, and he looked up to see the face of Kozlov appearing on his wall monitor, a dour-faced man to his right, looking away from the camera.
“Lieutenant?” Kozlov said. “We’ve got a message for you, a two-way hyperspace transmission from Space Corps Headquarters. For your eyes only, according to the file. Can I accept?”
“I’ll see you later,” Wolfe said, retreating from the office. Quinn waited for the door to close, then turned to Kozlov with a nod, and the image flickered out, briefly overwhelmed by paradimensional distortion before being replaced with the figure of a red-headed man wearing dress uniform, the flag of the Commonwealth hanging behind him.
“Preacher?” Quinn said. “Are you going to a fancy dress party?”
“Admiral Nguyen’s retirement, actually,” Lieutenant James Priest, one of Quinn’s old wingmen, replied. “Attendance was not optional. I’m stuck here finishing up the paperwork. Hope they don’t finish off the champagne before I get there.” He glanced down at his wrist, tucking the dull metal of the bionic replacement under his sleeve, and added, “I’d rather be on the flight line.”
“Give it six months, you’ll be back in the cockpit again. Is this about my request for reinforcements? Don’t take this the wrong way…”
“Commodore Nakamoto’s rejected it. You’ll get the official word in a couple of days. On paper, we can’t spare the ships or the personnel. Word is that there’s some political trouble here, but I don’t know the details. Way, way above my pay grade. I thought I’d break the news myself.”
“Damn it, Preacher, I didn’t ask for fun. We’ve got a real problem out here. People are dying, and I’ve got a suspected Nationalist terror cell working to do God knows what. I can’t handle that with a few reservists.”
“You might not have to.” He paused, held up a tablet, and said, “I’ve got a ticket off the station for you.”
“What?” Quinn asked. “I thought…”
“This was never meant to be an exile. Commander Li figured you’d get a ground assignment for a few months, maybe at the Academy, maybe at one of the reserve formations. You’re the best pilot the Forty-Fifth has, and he knows it. Even if the two of you don’t get on.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
With a smile, Priest said, “Anyway, he pulled a few strings, I pulled a few strings, and I’ve got a transfer ready to file. You’d go on immediate leave, and a ship would be coming to pick you up in a few days, take you back home to Schirra Station. Word is that Red Flight hasn’t been the same without you.”
“How the hell did you pull that off?”
“Come on, liaison officer to a frontier station? That’s the sort of job you give to someone to tick off the last year before their pension, or someone you want to hide out of the way. You didn’t do anything justifying that sort of a posting, and we managed to convince Personnel that there’d been a mix-up. All you have to do is approve, and you’ll be home in two weeks. You can give a full report of anything you’ve found out there in person when you get back, before you get back to the squadron.”
Quinn paused, and said, “This is voluntary, right?”
“Of course, but come on, this is…”
“Then I’ll stay here.”
Priest’s eyes widened, and he said, “I don’t think you understand.”
“I understand well enough. Well enough to realize that you’re offering me a bribe. Maybe you think you’re doing me a favor, and maybe you are, but someone is pulling strings to get me off this station. I don’t think there can be much of a coincidence that just as I apply for reinforcements, someone figures that I’m safer back at Schirra.”
“Max, look, this…” Priest paused, then said, “What’s keeping you out there? What’s the story? Nobody else on the station has reported a problem. Nobody. I don’t know what you’ve found, but what can you possibly do about it on your own, without support, without backup? The best you’re going to manage is to get yourself killed, and for what? Some ten-credit space station with a cargo of ungrateful Starborn? Is that really worth dying for?”
“I seem to remember that I swore an oath to protect the people of the Commonwealth. I don’t think there was an exception clause allowing me to only help the people I personally like. Someone’s operating a fighter squadron out here, Preacher, and all evidence suggests that I’ve found a functioning Nationalist cell operating in the rings of Goliath.”
