He held her close. “Thank you for accepting.” Kissing her, he slipped an arm round her waist. “Let’s have drinks before dinner, and then I’m going to bore you with a description of a little show we put on at the end of our last round of trials for a patrol ship called Hyperion. I believe you know the ship?”
“Hyperion? You bet I know her. She’s actually a diplomatic yacht, but that’s secret. Wait a moment, you put on a show for her?” She studied him. “What sort of show?”
He laughed. “An impressive one, I hope! We did a close pass of the Hyperion, launched all our strike craft and some of the ship’s barges, then recovered them again before entering transit. Specially requested by our dear Mr Brown.”
“I wonder who he had aboard? Seems like he wanted to send them a subtle message, don’t you think?”
James Heron laughed. “Who cares? Some politician no doubt. Now, Felicity, where would you like to have dinner? Here or somewhere more comfortable?”
“My choice, James?”
“Your choice, my dear.”
“Then let’s smash a few more regulations.” She turned in his arms and pressed herself against him. Their lips met as she unbuttoned his jacket and slid her arms around his waist. “Ever heard of dinner in bed? And it might turn into breakfast in bed, you never know….”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Drinks forgotten, he led her to the bedroom where their lips met and words became unnecessary.
Yelendi Dysson had a lot to consider as she stared at the huge screen that currently displayed Pluto and its moon Charon. The moon was almost as large as the planet it orbited. She’d known for some time that Fleet Security were getting close, but she hadn’t realised how close. Now she faced a choice in exchange for her assistance in finding Felicity Rowanberg: she could disappear into a boring nondescript role, or she could continue in her current role but as a Fleet double agent.
Or, I could be exposed and face a court for sabotage, she reminded herself grimly. This seemed unlikely given the protection and freedom she currently enjoyed, but it remained a possibility.
That last hadn’t been said, and probably would not be, at least not by Theresa Hollister or her boss, the Admiral. They weren’t that crude, but the threat existed.
Yelendi had become increasingly disillusioned by her bosses in the Interplanetary Consortium. She knew about their ‘research’ projects on the colony planets they had taken control of, and it disturbed her. The stated objective of the Consortium was to develop these planetary worlds to the benefit of the settlers, but as far as she could see, that wasn’t happening. The evidence pointed to something very different taking place.
Now that she’d had a long and private holo call with Admiral Burton, she made her decision.
Theresa Hollister handled the details of the transition.
“Yelendi, I’ve arranged a little diversion. We’ll get you to a rather exclusive resort on Earth, and you’ll have the necessary links and tickets to get back to the Dock from there.” Theresa smiled. “The registers will show that you’ve been enjoying a little jaunt around the islands, and you’ll have a discreet escort. Anyone checking your story will find a complete trail.” Theresa smiled. “Including all the usual holiday holographs.”
“I see.” Yelendi paused. “Were you that confident I could be persuaded?”
“No, we weren’t, but we prepared for all eventualities. As you’ll discover, we keep our promises and look after our friends.”
“I think I’m going to need a lot of looking after. My Director has a certain reputation, and the Chairman—well, he’s not above arranging for Board members to leave the Board and vanish.”
Theresa nodded. “We’ve heard rumours. Is he the likely link to the Pantheon? Sounds more like a crime lord.”
“Good analogy. He and a few others. You really don’t want them as enemies.”
Theresa laughed. “I think we already are as far as they are concerned.” She looked up as the Lieutenant-Commander joined them. “Yes, Jeff?”
“Orders, “Commodore. We’ll be in Earth orbit in an hour. I’m to rendezvous with a shuttle. I’m afraid you’ll have to use my gig for the transfer, Ms Dysson.”
Chapter 27
Death of a Cat
Bast had planned her move against Dylan Raddeck with her usual care, though it was a little cramped by the loss of her team, and by the prolonged use of the DNA masking substance she used. Reluctantly, she’d had to abandon her plan to kill Captain Heron—for now, she said to herself—but there’d be other opportunities once she’d reestablished herself and built a new team of agents.
She saw Raddeck depart for some social function, she assumed, based on his attire. “Enjoy yourself,” she murmured as she watched him step into the transport pod. She crossed quickly to the door of his suite, and minutes later she was inside. It was almost too easy to find the material she needed to extract his DNA to prepare the masking cream.
One reason she was such a successful assassin was her attention to detail, but the weeks of using the cream to maintain her disguise as the hapless dock technician were taking their toll. Details slipped her mind occasionally, and concentrating was sometimes hard. She’d used the time she had available to study her target, learn his mannerisms and speech patterns, and food and clothing preferences. Most of this was possible with the right programs and access to the dock AI system. The hours she’d spent in the Fabrication Unit had been well spent, supplemented by frequenting places where she could observe him. The lack of her usual team had created a number of difficulties, and though she wondered how Security had managed to take them down so quickly, she didn’t waste time worrying over it. Now she knew who he associated with and his sexual preferences—vital information if she was to escape detection in such a high-profile role.
Checking all the most likely places for the material she needed, she soon had enough to make the gel to coat herself with his DNA and to mask hers. She wasn’t worried that this would take several hours, though. Even if the Raddeck returned earlier than she expected—and her study of him suggested he would not—she had most of the night. Besides, all the other preparation she needed to do would keep her occupied, and her victim would not be in a position to object anyway. Seated at a mirror, she began to build a replica of his face onto her own. Slowly the woman from the fabrication unit transformed herself into Dylan Raddeck, Deputy Director of Client Relations and Liaison.
Her intended tactic was to greet the victim disguised as himself. The momentary paralysis while his senses tried to process being faced with himself would give her the opportunity to kill him. Her chosen weapon, a needle projector, was nearly silent, did little physical damage and was very fast acting. That would give her time to complete the final transformation with the fingerprint replication. She would also need the clothes he wore, in case she was seen by someone who had been with him earlier.
Her plan was simple. Kill him, take his ID and the vital authority chips, go to the shuttle dock and get a seat on the first Earthbound shuttle available. She had the specification for the Vanguard’s new particle beam weapon. It was her ticket to retirement. Her family were among the most wealthy in the world, but she wanted to vanish altogether, and that meant a complete break from family and everything to do with her former social circle. That took more than money, and she’d made sure she had plenty of that.
She used a portable DNA scanner to check the cunning prosthetics that modified her anatomy to a male build, and smiled when its indicator displayed the ID of the man she had taken on.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” she said to herself.
Piet Brandeis stood. “She’s in Raddeck’s suite, sir. We have her in the bag.”
“Raddeck is at Ricci with Captain Heron.” Mr Brown paused. “I’ll make sure they don’t leave until we’re ready. Wait for my order.”
“Yes, sir.” Piet watched his superior leave. He’s up to something. He knew the Admiral well, or as well a
s anyone could, and he recognised when the Old Man was not sharing his thoughts.
He set to work getting his men into position to spring the trap, or whatever his superior decided was appropriate.
With the leaders assembled, he called up a holo display. “This is the suite deck. The one we’re after is this one, B1412. The only legitimate way in or out is via the door here. It opens into this small lobby, then into the main living room. Our target is currently in this space.”
“If that’s the only way in or out, she’s a sitting target, Boss.”
“Unfortunately, there is another way someone with the knowledge and flexibility can get in. Here. This is the core air circulation shaft. It’s how they got into Commodore Hollister’s suite. It can also be used to get out. Bast, our target, is agile enough to get through the ventilation duct in the suite and into the main shaft.”
“Wondered how they got into Ms Hollister’s place without using the door. Bloody hell. She said the person who shot her stepped out of the vent, but we thought she was delusional from the shock and pain.”
“Turns out Commodore Hollister’s observation was spot on. So we’re going to put a couple of your lads inside it. It’ll be a bit draughty, and they’ll have to be dead quiet—and there’s no room for full armour. They’ll have to make do with the new stuff instead.” He paused. “Phil, your team has the best people for this. Get them changed and in place.
The time with Felicity had flown by much too quickly. They’d walked the Connemara beaches, talked at length and indulged their passion. All too soon, though, it was time to return to duty, and in James Heron’s view, with one major question unresolved and unanswered. Now he was back in his “Captain” mode, the perfect host to this mixed group of his Command Team and the senior managers of the building dock, and a sprinkling of Fleet Administrators, Engineers and Advisers. Felicity was notable by her absence, her place taken by her deputy. The other absentee was Yelendi Dysson.
“James, it’s good to see you looking well and refreshed. I need to ask, are you wearing the armour we provided?” Mr Brown was at his elbow.
“Yes, sir.” James Heron was a bit caught off guard by this question. He set his glass down and glanced round reflexively. “Is Bast here?”
“No, but we know where she is. Get that fellow Raddeck into the office over there, will you. She’s after him, and we need him to take her down.”
James Heron hesitated. “You need him … ah, I’ll fetch him.” He grinned. “I wonder what his response will be to what I think you’re going to ask him to do.”
“He’s not quite the innocent he tries to show.” Mr Brown raised an eyebrow. “He’d give you a good run, James.”
“I’ll take your word for that, sir.” He hesitated. “One thing. I want to be there when you take her down.”
Mr Brown considered this for a brief moment then nodded. “Yes. I’ll agree to that. You’ve earned it.” He turned away, leaving the Captain to fetch the unsuspecting Dylan Raddeck.
“Dylan, a word, if you’ve a moment.” James Heron intercepted the younger man. Lowering his voice he said, “There’s a problem called Bast, and we need to talk privately—in here.”
“Bast? Here?” Dylan’s eyes darted about the crowded room.
“No, but you’re on her target list. Come with me.” The Captain herded his companion into the office and shut the door. “I believe you know Mr Brown. He’s not quite what he appears. He is in fact Admiral Burton, Head of Fleet Security, and he’s here to deal with Bast.”
Bast heard the door begin its movement. Instantly alert, she had her needle projector ready, charged and aimed at the optimum point for her expected target as he entered the living room. The care she’d taken to mimic his face and physical build would be enough to cause him to stop and stare at his doppelgänger. It would be his last sight of anything.
The lights came on as Dylan Raddeck walked nonchalantly into the room. As expected, he stopped and stared adape when he saw himself advancing toward him weapon in hand.
Eyes fixed on her target, Bast hesitated as James Heron appeared behind him. For a fraction of a second too long, she wavered, unable to decide which to make her target, then she snarled and fired a series of needles at Raddeck, a smug smile stretching her mouth as she watched them strike exactly at her aiming point.
The only problem was that he didn’t go down. Nor did Heron. Instead, the two men stepped nimbly aside, and an armoured figure behind them got off an accurate shot, but not a killing shot. It was intended to disable and disarm her, because Mr Brown had been specific: he wanted her alive.
She screamed in frustration as she went down, and though it took some effort, she turned her needle projector on herself and fired.
“Medics! Get the antidote into her!” Mr Brown strode into the room. Stepping aside he let the medical team get to the fallen figure, and turned to the ashen-faced Raddeck. “Don’t touch your clothing where those needles hit you.”
“Er, um … no, no, I won’t.” He swallowed. “I felt them hit, but this armour….”
“Yes, it stopped them. It can stop a few other things as well.” Mr Brown turned to the medics. “Well?”
“We may be able to save her, sir. The prosthetics absorbed most of the needle poison, but the antidote has neutralised it.” The medic looked at the assassin lying on the floor, twitching and barely breathing. “If I hadn’t seen this with my own eyes, I would not have believed it.”
Mr Brown snorted in disgust. “No bloody wonder we couldn’t damned well catch her. Get her down to our Medlab.” He motioned to the second medical team. “Look after Mr Raddeck. Make sure those needles in his clothes are neutralised.” His glance at the shaken civilian was amused. “I think you and I need to have a little chat, don’t you, Mr Raddeck?”
James Heron watched the interplay with detached interest. The Admiral fitted his role as Mr Brown perfectly. Utterly ruthless when he had to be, he was also protective of those who worked under him and of those he regarded as worthy of protection. Glancing at the unconscious assassin as the medics lifted her disguised body into a transport container, he felt a moment of pity and wondered why someone of her upbringing and social standing would make a living in this obscenely brutal and bizarre manner.
The Admiral caught’s James’s eye.
“Seen enough, James? Still prefer running your ship to joining me in watching everyone’s back?”
“I think so, sir. And, yes, I do prefer running a ship to this, necessary as it is.” He hesitated. “What now? There’ll be one hell of an uproar when this gets out, and her fellow Pantheon agents will want to even the score.”
“They might, but the media won’t get anything on it.” Mr Brown glanced at the shaken Raddeck now being attended by a medic. “Officially, this never happened. They’ll be told she got away and we’re still looking for her. We’ve found the remains of two more of her victims, and suspect there may be another. That will keep the Joint Police busy.” His frown deepened. “If we can pull her through, she’ll go to one of our special units until we’re ready to hand her over to the Justice Department.”
“What about Dylan over there? He looks a bit shaken.”
“He’s going to have a little holiday.” The Admiral smiled. “As soon as his boss gets back from hers. Speaking of which, did you enjoy yours?”
“My holi..? Oh, yes, my jaunt home to Ireland. Too short, but very pleasant.” He held the Admiral’s gaze. “I was lucky enough to have the company of a fantastic lady.”
Mr Brown laughed. “Glad to hear it. Felicity is taking another posting with our Intelligence Analysis Section.” He glanced at the Captain. “Sorry about that, James. You both need to focus on your careers right now, and according to the terms of your deployments, the Fleet gets to decide where you are needed most.”
Captain Heron held back his protest, though it took some effort to keep his annoyance under control. “I understand, sir. I take it this mission is now at an end? We can ex
pect DockCor to deliver fully now?”
“No, it isn’t over by a very long way, James, though we may have reached a turning point.” Mr Brown paused. “Dylan Raddeck is part of it, or at least part of a solution, I hope. You’ll hear about it sooner or later, but we’re facing something like a civil war, and this Pantheon scheme is part of it. I’m sure you’ve seen the media banging on about how expensive and wasteful the Fleet is, and how anything and everything can be done better by contracting it out.”
“Of course, sir. My brother-in-law keeps me informed of what some of our representatives say in the parliament, and I see a bit of it on the holo channels.” James Heron held the Admiral’s gaze. “What about these assassins? Where do they fit into the picture?”
“Some colony worlds have become what might be called corporate property with the settlers being reduced to little more than medieval serfs—property confiscated, forced to work for next to nothing—all done legally of course, if you can call it that. We’re close to finding out who is directing it.” He glanced to where Dylan sat, his face blanched, but with a bit of colour returning to his cheeks. “Very close, that one. Too close for my liking. As for destroying the Pantheon, that’s a lot more difficult, but now that we’ve caught this Bast woman, we have something to work on, something to point us to who they are and what they’re after.”
Chapter 28
Worked Up
The revelations from Mr Brown put several things into perspective for Captain Heron as he worked with his command team to bring his ship up to full operational capability. He heard in due course that Ms Dysson had returned to her post, but he’d had no opportunity to see her or talk to her. Dylan Raddeck took a short break then moved to new accommodation, and the project acquired a new Head Administrator to replace Felicity.
James was pulled out of his thoughts as Adriana entered.
“Ms Hollister to see you, Captain.” Adriana stepped aside as Theresa Hollister entered the office.
Captain James Heron: First into the Fray: Prequel to Harry Heron: Into the Unknown of the Harry Heron Series Page 29
