Ronin

by Jan Domagala

  “Yes, I suppose so, seeing as you’re in place and that you two seem to be getting along. Kurt, I authorise you to bring her up to speed,” Sinclair said.

  “Okay then, well in that case we have to consider that the Alliance had something to do with these guys. I mean they would’ve learnt fairly quickly that Howard was dead and it wouldn’t take much for them to learn that the project had been abandoned.”

  “And what, you think they sent someone to find out if that was true?” Sinclair probed raising an eyebrow.

  “Most definitely. Who else was on the project they could get near to? All the technical staff have been reassigned, the other test subjects have died, so that just leaves me, and I’m at home on leave. You don’t have to be a genius to work that one out, sir.”

  “I’m glad to see your thinking processes weren’t damaged by the project,” Sinclair said. Stryder smiled then said, “But of course you already came to that conclusion, hence Hardy being here.”

  “Just needed to see if you’d figured it out as well,” Sinclair said with a hint of a smile, then added, “Have you figured out what their plan was?”

  “They were ordered to take me some place where presumably whoever was paying them would take me off their hands. From what I can gather they were expecting me to be on my own; they were thrown a little by Hardy being here, but I got them to concede they were just ordered to make a smash and grab. The weapons were just to intimidate. When I told them it would be foolish to kill her, they said that their orders didn’t include killing anyone, but that they’d take her along and let whoever was paying them decide her fate. It was only when I pushed them that the weapons came into play, when they had no other choice.”

  “So whoever paid them is going to be rather upset that they got stiffed on the deal,” Sinclair said with a smile.

  “Upset is putting it mildly I’d say, and I would expect them to try again. I can’t imagine them giving up just like that. If it was the Alliance, they will have to verify our claims.”

  “That puts you two in the firing line. I’ll assign a detail to watch over you,” Sinclair said.

  “That won’t be necessary, sir. I know somewhere we can go and be safe,” Stryder said with a wave of his hand.

  “Do you think that’s wise Captain?”

  “I think it would be best if we appear to act as normal as possible, sir. If the Alliance send anyone else, seeing a team protecting us will tell them two things – firstly that we need protecting because the project worked, and secondly, that we’re on to them. If we act normally, carry on as if it was just a burglary that failed, we get to draw them in and force them to make another move. Then we nail them.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, I cannot allow that to happen.”

  “And why not, sir, might I ask?”

  “You know the reason; you’re a soldier with the Confederation Recon Delta for heaven’s sake. If that wasn’t enough, your knowledge of the project makes you a very valuable asset and one I cannot allow to be taken captive by a hostile force.”

  “Damn it, I knew this would happen. I’m no longer Kurt Stryder. Now I’m a commodity, an asset. Well I quit. I formally tender my resignation sir, effective forthwith. As of this instant, General, I’m a civilian.”

  “Okay, if that’s how you want it. I’ll order the team to put the bodies back, and I’ll inform the local Constabulary you’re ready to make a statement about them and those you killed up the road. Hardy, you’re with me. Seems we’re no longer needed here!” Sinclair said and turned to leave.

  “Do you really want me to make a statement with all the juicy facts about the project I’ll be forced to divulge under oath?” Stryder asked. They each knew the other was bluffing but neither could or would back down. It was left to Hardy to come up with the answer.

  “Sir, what if I went along with the Captain here to his secure place? I could send you sit-reps through the NI via an encoded channel. That way you don’t have to worry about him going rogue on you and you’ll be informed of our situation. Kurt gets his freedom and you keep a modicum of control, so everyone wins.”

  “Okay with me,” Stryder said, knowing that Sinclair would be more likely to agree if he agreed first, giving the General the final say and not making it appear that he had given in; diplomacy.

  Sinclair stopped, turned around to face them and said, “Okay, but you have to keep the sit reps coming in on time. We’ll process these goons and see if we can’t learn something from them. It’s fifteen hundred now, let’s say you make your first sit rep when you arrive at your destination then every twenty-four hours thereafter,” and without waiting for a reply he turned and left the room.

  Hardy turned to Stryder and joined him at the railing.

  “Well, that was easy,” she said. “Never thought he’d go for it. I thought he’d want to know where we are at all times,” she added.

  “He will,” Stryder replied.

  She looked at him and smiled as the realisation dawned on her.

  “Our implants,” she said. All Recon Delta Marines NIs were fitted with a nano chip homer initiated straight out of Basic. The chips could only be read by certain sensors; something the Alliance had not been able to crack.

  “He knew there was nowhere we could go without him knowing exactly where we are,” Stryder said.

  “We just got played,” she said, beginning to realise why Sinclair was so highly respected.

  “Oh yes, the General is indeed a master of the game,” Stryder said. There was something else he had wondered about again came to mind, which was, how had the project affected his implant? Had it affected his implant? Was that why Hardy had been sent to him with orders to keep him close? Were they finding it difficult to read his nanochip? It would make sense of Hardy’s orders to stay as close as possible.

  These thoughts he kept to himself for future reference. He might need to make use of that knowledge in the future, but for now he would act like he was unaware until he could test its validity.

  “Come on, let’s get moving,” Stryder said.

  He packed a few things into a travel grip and said, “What will you do for clothes?”

  “I have some in a bag in my car not far from here, we can pick them up on the way,” she replied.

  “Okay, then let’s go,” he said and led the way downstairs to the garage.

  “Are you thinking of taking the sports hatch? I mean, it’s a little conspicuous, don’t you think?” she asked.

  “No, we’ll be taking the ATV, it’s possibly better suited for our needs,” he replied.

  When they entered the garage she noticed the ATV. The first time she had entered the garage under different circumstances all her attention had been focused on survival. This time though she was quite relaxed and noticed a lot more. She could see that the beautiful red machine Stryder had indicated was their way out of there.

  The garage was just that, a garage. A room large enough for his two vehicles, with enough space around them should the need for any maintenance arise. In one corner was a workbench with an array of tools arranged on shelves and that was it. She noticed the garage didn’t take up as much space as she’d imagined and wondered what else was on the ground floor.

  Stryder noticed her expression and said, “I’ll give you a proper tour of the villa when all this is over if you’d like?”

  Hardy smiled when she realised he’d read her mind and said, “Yes thanks, I’d love that.”

  “Okay then, let’s get moving,” he replied and threw his travel grip into the rear compartment of his CIV Champion ATV and climbed aboard on the driver’s side.

  Hardy looked at the All-Terrain Vehicle they were going to use. The CIV Champion was based on the military version called the Juggernaut, which was almost exactly what it was because once in motion it could handle almost any terrain. The Juggernaut was manufactured by the Rand Corporation, possibly the largest corporation in the Confederation who leased out patents to the manufacturers such as Celero
n Independent Vehicles but retained control of the rights.

  The Champion was not as large as its military counterpart, for there was no need for the troop carrying facility or weapons in the civilian version, but it could still seat seven comfortably. Sleeker than the Juggernaut, with more rounded edges, the Champion nonetheless still exuded power and stability and when Hardy climbed aboard and strapped herself into the large, comfortable front passenger seat, she felt safe.

  Stryder turned to her and asked, “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” she replied and actually found herself smiling. In spite of the danger they were in and all the threats to their safety they were about to face, she found herself enjoying it all. “Okay then, here we go,” Stryder said as he gunned the powerful engine and pulled out of the garage.

  10

  On Dalos IV, news of the failure to capture Stryder reached Captain Nokorovic, and he was furious. He’d, personally, picked the agent for the mission, and from these results he began to think his judgement might have been faulty.

  If General Solon learned of this he would have his head, of that there was no doubt. He would have to see if this was salvageable before he informed the General.

  As he sat at his desk pondering the situation, he reviewed his options. Undoubtedly this Captain Stryder and his new companion would have gone to ground somewhere they deemed safe. The asset he had in place had lost them and all the mercenaries he chose to use in his operation. This Stryder was fast becoming a serious pain in the ass and the harder he proved to capture, only bolstered the belief that perhaps the project had been a success after all.

  If the asset on the ground couldn’t locate them, then perhaps what they needed was some extra help.

  It was well known that Recon Delta Marines were each implanted with a nanochip tracker, which, so far, Alliance technology couldn’t duplicate or crack the codes enabling them to be tracked.

  What he had in mind was risky but as he viewed his situation, he decided he had little choice.

  Through his NI he accessed a secure comm channel and contacted Captain Pavel Temic.

  Col Sec Headquarters was on Earth, the centre of the Confederation in New York. Over the last five centuries, the city had changed beyond all recognition, but Col Sec HQ was situated approximately where the old United Nations building used to be.

  The HQ was a sprawling complex that stretched out over five city blocks. It had to be so vast because all Colonial business was conducted there. Its full name was actually the Colonial Confederations Headquarters. Col Sec, Colonial Security, the section that dealt with the security of the Confederation was, as the name implied, just a part of it and was situated below ground away from the prying eyes of everyday personnel and shielded from sensors.

  Col Sec itself was divided into two sections: Starforce, which was entirely military, and Intelligence Division, which was staffed by members of Starforce but was completely separate.

  General Sinclair was in charge of Intelligence Division.

  The mole secreted inside HQ was Joanne Watkiss and she worked in Intelligence Division. At the age of fifty-four she had never been married, never seriously dated anyone and still lived at home with her parents. She concentrated on her work, important work, which gave her access to Top Secret files, as she was a senior aide to General Sinclair.

  Thinking her life was exciting enough, something happened whilst on leave that proved she was wrong. She met a handsome stranger who swept her off her feet.

  Being away from work on her annual vacation, she had let her guard down.

  She was short at only five feet four, with a stocky build and dark hair and eyes in a face that was plain and therefore unaccustomed to having members of the opposite sex pay any attention to her. She was caught off guard one night when a tall, good-looking stranger asked if he could sit next to her at the bar. Thinking that he was waiting for someone, she agreed. When he struck up a conversation with her she was literally lost for words.

  Totally charming, he soon put her at her ease and he introduced himself as David Grant. They spent a wonderfully relaxed evening, talking, laughing and she was quite surprised when she noticed the time was close to two in the morning. He, being the perfect gentleman, offered to see her to her room. Finding herself more than a little tipsy and in a euphoric mood, she agreed.

  The night, of course, didn’t end there though. At her door, not wanting what was possibly the best night of her life to end, she plucked up enough courage to ask him inside for a nightcap.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said his voice rich and husky.

  Once inside any thoughts of a nightcap were quickly dispelled when he leant forward and kissed her on the lips. One thing led to another and soon they were in bed, their swiftly discarded clothes tangled on the floor.

  That night she experienced what she had been missing for most of her adult life as he brought her expertly to orgasm after orgasm until, finally, they both drifted off to sleep, exhausted as dawn was breaking.

  The rest of her vacation was much the same and by the time she had to return to work she was hooked.

  Totally in love with a man she hardly knew, she found it unbearable to be away from him. Nevertheless they parted and she went back to work dreaming of what might have been and waiting for the call he had promised to make, but somehow never did.

  After three months of waiting she had reached the point where she’d decided that their time together had been one of those things she’d often heard about but never experienced – a holiday romance. She had resigned herself to the fact that she’d never see him again when he made the call.

  They met and spent the night together in a hotel and she knew then that she would do anything, give anything, for it not to end.

  By the morning he knew he had her.

  David Grant was in fact Captain Pavel Temic of the Elysium Alliance.

  He began to ask her about her work on their weekly trysts. At first it was general interest but before long the requests for data started, small insignificant details at first to test her. When she refused he failed to turn up for their next date. The following week, though, she was there waiting with exactly what he’d asked for.

  Now over a year later they had worked up to Top Secret data and she was finding it more and more difficult to cover her tracks. When this last request came in, she knew she was in trouble.

  His requests for data had become more and more difficult to get away with. Acquiring what her lover wanted was not the problem as being a senior aide to the head of Intelligence Division afforded her unlimited access to Top Secret material. No, the problem was concealing her tracks so that no one would be aware that the material had even been looked at, let alone stolen.

  When Grant had asked her for the Recon Delta codes it was towards the end of her working day so there was no chance to retrieve it from the computer, cover her tracks and pass the information on to him. She spent the night wondering about the consequences of her actions over the last few months. Passing on data about the project being conducted on Outpost Station Five had been a blessing and afforded her a full weekend of uninhibited sex with no thought or concern of the consequences. Later she learned that all but one of the test subjects had died. That wasn’t her fault, surely?

  She was no fool, she soon became aware that her beloved David Grant had ties to the Alliance, but by that time she was past caring.

  Then he asked for the whereabouts of Captain Stryder, the only survivor of the project, which she knew from various reports, had been deemed a failure. But she also knew of Sinclair’s doubts, a little fact she had kept from Grant. Why was that? She often wondered. Had her conscience started to reaffirm itself?

  The attack on Stryder at his home could only have meant one thing; that it was directly due to her passing on his whereabouts to Grant, of that she was now certain. It was the first time she had been confronted with the consequences of her actions. Those consequences almost cost the lives of Stryder and
Hardy, the young Marine they sent to keep tabs on him, and did cost the lives of five men who tried to capture them.

  Where would it end?

  Wracked with guilt she decided not to pass on the information.

  Out of habit, when the opportunity arose, being left alone at a terminal, she searched for and then downloaded the data onto a data card.

  Having arranged to meet him for lunch she barely made it in time. She was determined to tell him, face to face, that this was a request she couldn’t fulfil.

  One look into his eyes though and she melted as usual and handed over the data card. The sex that followed was great, as always, but when she returned to work the guilt returned and she spent an hour in the toilet crying.

  When someone found her in such a state she hurriedly made up the excuse that she’d had some bad news about a relative and was sent home.

  As soon as Watkiss left the hotel room, Temic passed the codes onto Nokorovic via an encoded subspace burst transmission.

  On receiving the data, Nokorovic smiled with relief. Now he had something of value to pass onto General Solon, which would counter balance the abortive snatch attempt on Stryder.

  Now, no matter where the elusive Captain went, they would find him and this time they would capture him.

  Nothing would stop them now.

  11

  The asset stationed on Celeron, Captain Pavel Norsky, was awaiting further instructions from Nokorovic. He was in his early thirties, what was known as a fast track officer, and hoped to be a major at the end of his mission there. He was tall, lean and handsome with black wavy hair and dark flashing eyes. His looks and easy charming manner had secured him a position in bed with many of the opposite sex.

  He had come to Celeron posing as a trade negotiator who was mixing business with a little pleasure. In that way he could warrant his frequent visits into Jacksonville to recruit the troops he thought he might require and his visits to Haven, the local tourist resort. The decision to recruit local muscle rather than import some with him was a sound one at the time. Local muscle worked for money and was already on site, whereas to import some with him threw up more problems, such as having to deal with customs. What he hadn’t considered, though, was just how good Stryder turned out to be.