Duty and Obligation

by Sean Benjamin

  This pattern carried over into his career after he was commissioned. He was always an officer in small ships where he taught and protected his enlisted people while having no problem pointing out the stupidity within the system. The result of all this took time to manifest, but it did happen. He was promoted with his peers through the junior officer ranks but was passed over for promotion to commander twice. However, this lull in his career allowed the people immediately junior to him to pass him in seniority. They were the people who liked him, and they now sat on the promotion boards and command selection boards. Wilson was selected for promotion the third time. He got command of an old corvette and continued teaching his younger officers and enlisted. His ship earned a reputation for professionalism and execution. After giving up his command, he was transferred to the staff of Admiral Trevor Levant in the Electra System. This was the first time in his career he was not assigned to shipboard duty. He served on the staff for one year. When the captain of the destroyer Brodie was unexpectedly medically retired, Admiral Levant surprised everyone by installing Commander Wilson as the new captain. When Wilson was promoted to the rank of captain, Levant gave him Destroyer Squadron 22. He was the most junior captain to have such a command billet in the Royal Navy. His performance in the Battle of the Electra System more than justified Levant’s faith in him.

  “Captain Jack, you old sea dog!” said Skyler as she embraced the bearded man and kissed him on his bearded cheek.

  He smiled at her. “I love being manhandled by pretty women.”

  They separated but stayed close for quiet conversation. They were in the main corridor of the surface headquarters on Wanderlust and the foot traffic was heavy as officers and enlisted moved past in a near continuous stream.

  Jack said, “I understand you paid the ransom and got Mackenzie out of her hostage situation, and she is here now.”

  “Took a year of semi-good work to get her spaceworthy again, but she is out there. Since I’ve been here on the planet, she has probably sprung a couple of leaks.”

  Jack smiled wide. “While you were retrieving her at Zelenka, I assume you had time to visit that bloody twit Sinclair.”

  Now Sky grinned. Jack Wilson was the only person in the Royal Navy who could call Queen Alexis I, monarch of the Aurora Empire, “that bloody twit Sinclair” and get away with it. He called her that at The Academy and never quite got around to stopping. Sky knew the Queen wouldn’t mind. Alexis loved Jack as much as Sky did.

  “I did visit her. She is well and misses the Navy.”

  Wilson nodded. “The Navy misses her.” He flicked his hand around him at the foot traffic. “Look at what we got commanding us.” Even though he was a senior officer now, he had never been a fan of them and saw no reason to start now. He leaned a little closer to Mallory. “I assume you are in communication with her. Please convey my thanks for what she did for Giselle. Visiting her in the hospital was kind enough but to ensure she got her promotion and a follow-on posting was above and beyond. I am forever in her debt.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way, Jack. You know Alexis has always thought highly of Giselle. How is she?”

  “She likes teaching at The Academy, and I like her being out of harm’s way. Win-win.”

  While Jack Wilson had been in command of Destroyer Squadron 22, his wife, Commander Giselle Reynaud, had been captain of the destroyer Sallet in that same squadron. At the Battle of the Electra System, both of their ships were lost, but Sallet was hit especially hard. Less than half the crew got off, and they had carried a badly wounded Giselle Reynaud with them. She recovered from her wounds but lost something along the way. Maybe it was due to the wounds. Maybe survivor’s guilt. Maybe she loved her ship and her crew just a little too much. Maybe all three.

  When it became obvious that she had changed, the Royal Navy was going to invalid her out of the military at her current rank of commander even though she had been selected for promotion to the rank of captain. At The Academy, Giselle had been two years behind Wilson in the same class as Mallory and the future queen. They had all been in the same company. The Queen kept track of many people from her academy days and soon learned of the situation. She intervened and the situation quickly changed. Giselle was promoted and reassigned to The Academy.

  Skyler nodded to show she would pass Wilson’s thanks to the Queen. She changed subjects. “What brings you here to Wanderlust?”

  “Passing through on the way back to Electra with my shiny new Spinnakers that will become ships of the ol’ Two Two. Most of my ships were so badly damaged in the Electra System fight, we just did minimum repairs and have been waiting for the new and improved models. Finally, we got ‘em and are headed home.” He leaned in close to Mallory. “It might not be for long though. Rumor had it that new Admiral of the Union Grayson Volney is putting together an offensive and will pull ships from everywhere for it, even from Home Fleet.”

  Wilson’s face registered his disgust and Sky easily understood it. Lord Douglas Cunningham, Defense Minister, kept two Royal Navy composite squadrons under his direct personal control. Admiral Hargrove commanded the Hounds from Hell. Admiral Volney led the Death Dealers. Hargrove was a junior admiral and his rank was appropriate for his command. Volney held the rank of high admiral and was actually too senior for his billet. The feeling among the officer corps was Cunningham was protecting Volney and would send him to a new posting when convenient for the Defense Minister. So it turned out to be. Volney was recently promoted to admiral of the union and given broad authority to form a task force for offensive purposes. Nobody beside Cunningham and Volney thought that Volney being in command of such an operation was a good idea, but Cunningham had the only opinion that mattered. Rumor had it that Cunningham had to overrule Admiral Wu, the CME, on this appointment.

  Wilson leaned back from Sky as she nodded. She said nothing but her silence was her opinion. She and Wilson were like-minded on this topic. Jack returned the nod as he understood her stillness. He looked at his watch. “I would love to have a drink or meal with you, Sky, but we sail shortly.” He gave her his best winning smile and added. “One more thing. While retrieving my ships, I heard of the Queen’s visit to Hartley in Predator instead of in Spinnaker and how she named Cobalt as the Queen’s Own Destroyer. Lots of noses out of joint over that. Can’t see why. Predator has done more to win the war than any damn Spinnaker class has. Hell, Spinnaker herself hasn’t even been shot at yet. Cobalt has given good service for decades and was her own ship while she was in. She made good choices plus the added bonus of pissing off the bureaucrats in uniform. Tell her well done from me.” He paused and then added, “You know, for being an extremely marginal midshipman, she has turned into a damn fine queen. Who would have thought that?”

  They both laughed, exchanged a hug, and Wilson departed. Sky watched him leave with a smile on her face. She said a quiet prayer. “Please God, protect Jack Wilson. The universe needs him. And so does the Royal Navy.”

  Chapter 12

  The woman checked into the Benteen hotel under the name of Wanda Lisberg. She took an evening walk around the town and ate carry away food from a quick-meal restaurant. She retired early. At dawn, she was up for breakfast and a walk around the town square. Lisberg then went to the naval base and filled out several job applications for a variety of low skill positions. Afterward, she walked around the town while stopping at local businesses to inquire about jobs.

  Greg Paulsen understood the base visit but thought the town tour was overdone on her part. He knew Lisberg was just getting to know the area, but she shouldn’t have asked about jobs in the town. Nobody comes to Agra 2 to take a job as a maid or waitress. They were low pay and there was little chance for advancement in these family-owned businesses. He did admire her courage for coming to the sheriff’s office to inquire about any job there. Of course, she was just checking out the place, but still, Greg admired the cold nerve of it all. He knew Lisberg was a fake name and normally he would have wanted fin
gerprints, DNA, or a good image of her to run through a records search, but he knew he would be arresting her shortly so he could get that done then. Lisberg inquired about the possibility of farm work in the area. When Greg gave her the names of a few of the bigger farms in the area, she wrote them down. This would give her license to walk the nearby countryside with no suspicions being aroused. After all, she got the names and directions from the sheriff himself. Yes, Greg admired her guts.

  She walked five kilometers east of the town and did visit two of the farms along the way. She also noted the topography of the area. Paulsen had her watched from a distance by a variety of people. He was confident they could do a quick observation and then move on without arousing suspicions on Lisberg’s part. It didn’t provide continuous observation, but Paulsen accepted that the gaps were the price to be paid for not alerting the target.

  Lisberg returned from her area recon in five hours. She bought a cold drink and sat at a picnic table in the town square, ostensibly recovering from her long hike, but she was really observing the rhythm and routine of the town. Paulsen watched her briefly from his window before returning to his desk. While she was out, he had a listening device put in her room. Paulsen thought that wouldn’t provide a breakthrough in the case, but he had to go through the motions. If she was experienced, she wouldn’t take any chances by using comm in her room and would use a variety of safeguards when contacting her team.

  Paulsen knew Lisberg would move with care to avoid suspicion, but there had to be a time limit for the job. After all, Yardley might talk at any moment or she might be moved to a navy ship so would be out of reach. This time limit would make the hit team set up quickly for their attack. Paulsen knew Lisberg had to be under pressure to move this along. He could wait her out.

  Lisberg returned to her room. Three hours passed, and Lisberg left her room and made for the nearest cheap diner. The only addition to her afternoon garb was a light coat. She sat at a table in the back corner and ordered dinner. The deputy observing her called Paulsen. The sheriff told him not to go into the diner but to take images of any stranger entering or leaving the diner while Lisberg was in there. This had become standard practice whenever Lisberg ate as it could be the cover for a rendezvous of some sort.

  Lisberg finished her meal and scanned the customers while having one last cup of coffee. Finally, she rose and departed the restaurant. Dusk was closing on the town and darkness would not be far behind. She walked past her hotel and ambled around the town square. She strolled down a couple of streets and then returned to the town square to sit on a bench for ten minutes. She glanced at her watch and stood up. She walked with a deliberate pace to her hotel. She was not under surveillance the entire walk so had a chance to conduct some sort of drop off or pick up. Maybe she had done that, but she could just be killing time. That was okay if time was the only thing that was killed here.

  He checked with the deputy at a nearby desk who was monitoring the listening device in her room, and he reported Lisberg had definitely returned. The device heard her come in, move about the room and the bathroom, and settle down on the bed. All was quiet now. Both men sat back and relaxed.

  Hours went by as the small hours of the morning came. Yardley went to sleep in her cell. The surveillance deputy drowsily listened on his headphones. Paulsen should have gone home, but Lisberg’s stroll around town was bothering him. The more he considered it, the more it had the feel of a final recon before a mission start. He spent the hours in his chair pondering the developing situation. He didn’t think Lisberg had a comm device, but she could have gotten one during the walk. She didn’t have a weapon either, but she could have gotten one of them too. Both were small enough to hide on the body. Lisberg’s recent stroll meant something. He would have thought she would have returned to her room right after dinner. Keep a low profile and limit exposure to necessary trips only. She had worn a light coat while eating and on her walk. Really not needed as the weather was nice enough to go without. He frowned. Maybe the coat wasn’t for warmth but concealment. She picked up something on her stroll. Could have been done easy enough.

  Paulsen’s comm buzzed, and he noted the navy base was on the call readout as he picked up the receiver.

  A voice immediately talked to Paulsen. “This is Lieutenant Coravich. I’m the base watch officer, sir, and have been told to tell you of any incoming vehicles not of a routine nature. We have detected a shuttle coming in fast on the far side of the planet. No idea what ship it launched from. Not answering challenges.” There was a pause and then he added. “It headed straight for the surface and is down in the clutter now. We’ve lost it. Only had it for a few seconds.” Another pause and then Coravich added, “We have already informed Drake, and she is getting ready to get underway under the XO’s command.”

  Paulsen thanked the officer for the information and terminated the call. That shuttle coming in could be smugglers or some other criminal activity, but Paulsen didn’t really believe that. He assumed it was tied to Lisberg. He was also sure she wasn’t stretched out on her bed getting a good night’s sleep. She must have a way of communicating with the shuttle so she could pass the coordinates for its landing zone and subsequent hideout. Maybe her stroll around town ended up with her picking up a comm unit supplied by an associate at a dead drop.

  Paulsen thought through a variety of possibilities, each one more farfetched than the last. He could do nothing but wait for the attack if he wanted to capture anyone and, at the same time, get Yardley scared enough to see the reality of her situation so she would talk. He pondered a moment longer and then sat up straight in his chair as realization hit him. He knew they had it figured all wrong. Lisberg wasn’t the bird dog. She was the shooter. She had picked up a weapon, maybe two, on her walk and was now waiting for the shuttle to get closer before moving on the sheriff’s office to complete her task. The incoming shuttle wasn’t bringing anyone in but would take her out after the job. Paulsen considered this new idea. It made sense. Uncomplicated and direct. Few moving parts and a simple timeline. Just the kind of plan the AC would produce when considering this small town with local yokels as law enforcement.

  Paulsen stood up and moved to the window that looked out onto the square. He slapped the surveillance deputy on the shoulder as he went by him to ensure the man was alert. There were just the two of them between Lisberg and Yardley.

  “It’s happening now,” he said calmly. He stepped to the edge of the window, separated two closed blinds with his right hand, and peered out into the night. He saw nobody, but he didn’t really expect to. She would be smarter than that. Paulsen thought for a moment as his deputy joined him at the window. All the office windows were covered with wire mesh in front of the glass. Nobody could break a window and throw in an explosive. The closed blinds meant nobody could see inside. The front door was the only entrance. It was reinforced steel as was the frame it sat in. The door could take many shots from a standard shooter before giving way. He thought about how he would do the attack. He would be simple and direct. Come in the front door blazing away with one or two weapons and kill everyone. Lisberg would figure on one or two lawmen and one prisoner. The elements of surprise and shock would aid her in overcoming the numbers, and she knew the layout of the office from her earlier visit. The attack would be over in ten seconds. Paulsen had no idea how she would meet the shuttle, but he was more worried about staying alive at the moment.

  He turned to his companion and nodded toward the door. He couldn’t lock it. The door was never locked so locking it now would be a giveaway. Once Lisberg pushed against the locked door, she would know her attack was stopped. Shooting up the door to get inside would only alert the lawmen who would immediately get to cover in the office and prepare for anyone coming through the door. Upon discovering the locked door, Lisberg would vanish in the night. Paulsen needed her, preferably alive, but dead would work too. It would prove to Yardley there was a plan to kill her. He couldn’t lock the door, but he could semi blo
ck it. There were the two heavy filing cabinets on the wall next to the entrance door. The two lawmen moved one cabinet to directly behind the door and twenty centimeters away from it. Paulsen figured Lisberg’s plan would be to push the door open fast and barge in with a shooter or shooters in hand. The blocking cabinet would bring the door to a sudden stop and her attack with it. There would be a narrow opening as the door opened and then jammed up against the cabinet. A narrow opening that he could shoot through while Lisberg was jarred by the sudden stop with her body right up against the door.

  The two men moved the second filing cabinet to the other side of the door, the side where it opened. Paulsen would be behind it with only his shoulders and head exposed while he was shooting.

  “Get behind the receptionist’s desk,” Paulsen instructed his deputy. “If she gets me, start blasting the door.” He smiled at the man. “But only if she gets me.”

  The deputy nodded nervously. This would be his first shootout. Greg had had four such incidents as a Potenkan detective. He flashed back to them and recalled two of them had included Cathy Putinsky on his side. He wished she was here. She would cover his back. Or would want to be in front herself. Either way was good with him. Experienced backup would be a godsend right now.