by Chris Hechtl
“Mechanical trigger, sir. No electronics to speak of,” the bomb disposal lieutenant said.
“He would have smelled the explosives,” the general stated.
“Are his senses that acute, sir?” the lieutenant asked, blinking. The general merely stared at him. After a moment, the Neomutt raised his hands in surrender. “Hoookay, I obviously don't have need-to-know there I guess.”
“You guessed right,” the general replied dryly. But he knew his reaction was a dead giveaway to the lieutenant anyway. So be it he thought.
“Now what, sir?” Lieutenant Whitman asked. He glanced at Lieutenant Schneider and then back to the general.
The general grimaced. “Move his quarters. Don't put his things anywhere until he returns. That way they will keep guessing,” the general ordered.
The Neochimp nodded. “Aye aye, sir. And the incident?”
“NCIS and JAG will want their take on it of course. But it's all classified as of this moment. Interview the witnesses but remind them this is classified and to keep their mouths shut,” the general ordered, eying the duo.
“Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenants replied in unison.
“Anything else I need to know? Any sign of an accomplice?” Both Neos shook their heads in the negative. The general inhaled and then exhaled slowly. “Okay.”
“Sir, what about that reunion party the cat is planning?” Lieutenant Whitman asked quietly as Lieutenant Schneider moved away to address his team.
“We'll have MPs there. I don't think I can cancel it. It would raise too many suspicions,” the general said, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin as he thought hard. “I honestly didn't think they would get to him here. That was remarkably stupid of me. I underestimated how badly they want him dead.”
“We still don't know if this was authorized or not, sir,” the lieutenant reminded him.
“True. It might be a lone wolf, but it might not be. There is an open contract out on him. I'm …,” the general cut himself before he reveled anymore of what he knew. “Never mind. We'll have to step up security. Valenko's division will work. I might get my hand into it or sick Valenko on the project or security,” the general mused.
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said unhappily.
“We'll keep him busy when he gets back.”
“They are en route now, sir,” the lieutenant replied. The general grimaced again. “I'll get on that move. We'll need to clean up here. People are going to notice.”
“I know. And the more we don't answer, the more questions will follow. Use the following cover story: the suspect was delusional, suicidal, but threatened a bomb before he died by cop. We had to take the threat seriously.”
“Works, sir,” the Neochimp replied as he made a note. “Open and shut. People won't want to talk about it much other than to ask why he did it and why no one noticed.”
“Good. And the more they ask about him, the more the assassins will feel uncomfortable. Hopefully, they won't kill any cutouts before you can get your hands on them,” he observed.
The lieutenant winced and then nodded. “Permission to get on that before they do, sir?”
“Get going then,” General Forth replied with a nod.
“Aye aye, sir.”
<)>^<)>/
Gunnery Sergeant Shep looked on as the general left the crime scene. It wouldn't do to sigh in relief, though he was tempted. “Do we have an ETA on the subject's return?” he asked, turning to an assistant. Jethro was good troop, a fellow boot of F Platoon, and he had no intention of letting an old friend die on his watch.
“No, Gunny. He's due back by evening, but there is no telling if he'll be delayed in transit or for how long,” the private said.
The MP Gunny flicked his ears. “Okay, we're supposed to clean this up before it becomes more of a circus than it already is,” he said. “Start working on that. NCIS has finished with the forensics, right?”
“Yes, Gunny.”
“Good.” He turned to see the Neochimp ONI lieutenant striding over to him. “Secure the video footage. I'll see what our temporary boss has in mind for final marching orders.”
The private's eyes strayed to the looming lieutenant before they snapped back to the gunny. “Yes, Gunny.”
“Get out of here,” the NeoAlsatian said with a flick of his head as he turned to the lieutenant. “Yes, Lieutenant Whitman? How can I be of help?” he asked politely.
<)>^<)>/
Once NCIS and the MPs had their marching orders, Lieutenant Whitman settled into the security office and called up the recordings of the entire event. He watched them for a long moment all over again before he made another copy and deleted the originals.
He pocketed the chip he'd downloaded the recordings onto and then exited the security room. “Captain Smearof, if you don't mind, could you do me a favor and delay Sergeant McClintock a bit? Nothing critical about it, we just don't want him to go to his old dorm right off,” the lieutenant typed out with his fingers on a virtual keyboard as he walked back to his office. “He's due in sometime this evening, but we're not sure when.”
<)>^<)>/
Lt Colonel Dana Harley finished her morning jog, downed a sports bottle of energy drink, and then took her shower before she dressed and snagged an energy bar on her way to work.
Jogging and regular PT helped her to keep her cool while her staff assembled her force for movement. She'd thought just going through a colonoscopy was bad. She hadn't anticipated the sheer logistical planning involved with moving so many warm bodies that was entailed or the other hoops she'd have to jump through along the way.
She'd been sorely tempted to hand the crap over to Valenko once or twice along the way, but it seemed like there was finally some light to be seen at the end of a very long tunnel she thought as she chewed through the last of her energy bar. She climbed the steps to her admin building and accepted a cup of coffee from the guard as she logged in.
She took an appreciative sniff, then a sip as she made her way through the halls to her office. They were almost there, she knew. She had just about everybody she wanted. Her stride slowed slightly as she noted a recruiting poster on the wall. It was of a Neocat. She snorted. She of course wanted McClintock the moment she'd heard about his arrival. She'd tried repeatedly to get him before each of the brigades had been fissioned into divisions but had been denied. She found out she, like Valenko, couldn't have him. He was destined for something else, which sucked.
But if she couldn't have him, at least the others weren't getting him either. Scuttlebutt said he was due to ship out soon.
Ever since she'd heard the bear had been trying to get the old F Platoon band back together under his banner, she'd hung on to her people jealously. She had a mental side bet that Colonel Archibald Pendeckle had as well, and Jersey had flat-out told the bear he couldn't have Captain Mm'beki.
She liked her driver Ris'ha as well as Brutus and Senjix. They were good troop, though she wished sometimes that Senjix would show a little more initiative and stop coasting. He'd be a leader like some of the other F Platoon graduates had turned out to be if he stepped up. Not that she was willing to complain about his performance as a staff sergeant. She just knew he could do better if he tried harder.
Major R'nz, her Veraxin XO, was working out quite well. Archie's loss was her gain. He should have known better than to get impatient and step all over his people like he had. She couldn't blame him. She too would have been eager to get to Protodon if she had managed to snag that assignment, but she probably would have trusted her people a little more to do the job. That show of a lack of trust had been R'nz's undoing. He still smarted a bit when Archie's name or Second Division's name was mentioned, or his old brigade for that matter, but he'd get over it eventually.
She paused when she noted Brutus was busy dealing with something. From the way his brows were knit, the Neogorilla seemed about ready to get worked up about something. As she wandered closer, she noted his rising fur. “Problems, Brutus?”
she asked as she took a sip.
He turned to her and then shot to his feet. She waved him back down casually with her free hand. He took his seat sheepishly. “We're having some trouble with the marines who went on liberty. A few got into mischief, and we're catching flack. Plus, we need to get them out of hack or we'll be short ….” He waved a hand helplessly.
“Anyone I know?” she asked as she snapped her fingers. He picked up his tablet, flicked a large thumb across it to send the file to her. From her tone, he knew she implied that she better not know them.
“A few of our usuals who can't figure out when to and not to throw a punch,” Brutus said.
“As if you never had that problem,” Dana said dryly.
He chuffed in amusement. “Hey, I'm a married man now. I don't go bar hopping,” he said.
“Marines,” the colonel said as she pursed her lips and scanned the records. There were a dozen rap sheets there, far more than she'd like to have seen.
“When aren't they getting into trouble on liberty? It is a tradition, ma'am!” Brutus said, spreading his hands wide. He nearly knocked over a potted plant before he hastily caught it in time.
“A little too much slavishly following tradition is in order then. I don't need to have to land on someone and mess my chain of command up. The word of the day is responsibility. If they don't drink and act responsibly, there will be hell to pay starting with their chain of command and ending with me,” she said tapping her chest.
Brutus nodded. “Yes, ma'am. I think I can put the scare of you, and well, me,” he said smugly, making a show of cracking his massive simian knuckles then clenching them into fists. “If, I handle it right,” he said.
“Good boy. Make sure you pass that on. Feel free to embellish the good parts to scare the bejeezers out of anyone who thinks I'm kidding,” Dana said.
Brutus cracked a smile but banished it instantly when she looked his way. “Yes, ma'am. Not a problem.”
Dana grinned again. “Good.”
<)>^<)>/
“So, you think you got something? A major lead, Lieutenant?” Captain Smearof asked as he eyed the Neochimp. He'd received the Neochimp's email and had agreed to stall the cat. Not that it seemed necessary; the quarters swap had already been completed.
“Well, sir, given the assassins keep it in the family, it's a safe bet that one or more of his relations, hell, his entire family quite possibly are in on the Guild. We're looking into it. Unfortunately, they are civilians on the mainland, so we have to bring the Fed justice department and locals in on the investigation. I need to do some careful briefings soon.”
“Okay. That makes sense given the other information we have on them,” the captain said with a nod. “So, your people are out rounding them up?”
“No, sir,” the lieutenant replied with a shake of his head.
“No?”
“We're observing. We want to trace their contacts and see if we can ID who is involved and also any message chains that they are using. If they don't realize we're on to them, they might let us see more than they'd like,” the lieutenant explained.
The captain frowned thoughtfully and then nodded. “Ah. Good point. I forgot to look at it from a spook's point of view,” the captain said.
“First order of counter intelligence once a potential leak has been identified. Watch, tap their communications, but don't interfere unless absolutely necessary,” the lieutenant said, practically quoting the manual.
“Gotcha. I'm too used to Shep and the black and white he lives in I suppose. You informed the family?”
“I'm going to monitor their reactions when we do, but I won't do it personally, sir. It'll also let us get a baseline and a peek into their home. If an ONI officer is involved in the contact, that might raise suspicions,” the lieutenant stated.
The captain nodded again. “Wise again. You really are bucking for that promotion,” he teased.
“We aim to please, sir,” the lieutenant said, practically preening.
“Well, keep up the good work. You've got to live up to expectations now,” the captain said, bursting his bubble a little. “Carry on,” he ordered.
“Aye aye, sir.”
<)>^<)>/
Word spread about the planned barbeque. It began to grow in proportion as friends and family were thrown in. “It sounds like quite the shindig," Captain Silverman said. “I don't have an official invite since I'm not F Platoon,” she drawled, “but I plan to crash it anyway since I know many of the people.”
“I think you'll be welcome, ma'am,” Staff Sergeant Senjix replied, clearly amused by his captain's antics or planned antics, he reminded himself.
Dana had been passing through the staff area on her way to a meeting. She overheard the statement and paused. “I'll drop in and make an appearance. Even though I'm not the legendary F Platoon either,” she said mock scathingly. She smiled.
“Um, yes, ma'am,” Captain Silverman said, turning to the colonel in surprise and then to the Neocheetah. Senjix shrugged helplessly but out of sight of their boss.
“The more the merrier, ma'am,” Senjix said.
“Good. “We've got another INTEL brief on Destria and the surrounding area. Best get to it,” the colonel said pointedly.
“Yes, ma'am,” the captain said with a dutiful nod. “You heard the lady,” she said to the staff sergeant.
Senjix rolled his eyes. In his opinion, they would have plenty of time on the trip to have dog and pony shows along the way. It was a good way to pass the time—not that anyone was interested in a lowly staff sergeant's opinion it seemed. “Coming, ma'am. Ma'ams,” he corrected as he followed the captain out of the bull pen to the meeting room.
Dana led the duo into the room and then waited until everyone was seated before she began. “This isn't your usual dog and pony show; we'll save that for later,” she said with a nod to her INTEL team. “I wanted to let you know Hidoshi's World has been quiet, but my request to pull the Marines from there to act as a reserve has been denied. Not that a platoon of Marines and whatever militia supports they could scare up are much of a reserve to draw on in the first place,” she said. “I haven't put in for Kathy's World. The shipping time is too long so I don't think it's worth asking. Besides militia? Doing our job?” She sniffed.
“I don't know, ma'am, it worked out okay for Colonel White Wolf's people,” Lieutenant Queen said.
Dana eyed the lieutenant, then sniffed. “Showing your boss up isn't a nice way to start the day, Suzanna,” she said mock critically.
“Sorry, but if the shoe fits …,” the lieutenant said spreading her hands. Dana, like a lot of good officers accepted constructive criticism, which allowed her to work well with her people.
“You really are cruisin' for a bruisin' aren't you?” Captain Silverman said, shaking her head as she eyed the lieutenant. That earned a chuckle from the assembly.
“Okay, settle down,” Dana said. “What we know …,” she said indicating Major Zedeal. “Blake, why don't you take it from here?”
The chimera Marine intelligence officer rose from his seat and nodded to her. “Thank you, ma'am,” he said. He waited until she took her seat before he started in. “What we know about Destria is pretty basic and old. ONI is still going over what they got from the pirate transports they caught, plus the take from the ships that went there. They haven't passed it on to us; apparently, we're going to get it in Pyrax as we pass through. What I can tell you is it's your typical agro world. It's in a cul-de-sac system, but it has some space traffic since it produces not only a healthy surplus but also some medical supplies that are highly valued due to their scarcity. They have a moderate shelf life too, so they lend themselves to export. The same could be said of their textile mills. Now, we're going to use that as the basis of the shoot houses the engineers are setting up and the coders are programming for us to do our final training with the troops before we depart ….”
<)>^<)>/
“Time to go,” Giles said to Marisa
and her husband. The duo nodded quietly and gathered the kids up. They went out quietly and got into the car and drove off just before a police car turned the corner onto their block. Marisa looked into the rear view mirror to see the car pull up to their house. Their former house she reminded herself.
“It's clean?” Giles asked, glancing at her and then Bo.
Both adults nodded. “We followed the sanitation protocol. There is nothing left to find.”
“Good,” Giles said quietly.
“What happened? How did they find out about Pete?” Bo demanded.
“Pete got sloppy; that's what happened. He got caught doing something stupid,” Giles answered grimly.
Marisa looked at him, bottom lip quivering in suppressed anxiety and then looked down to stroke her twin daughters. Both girls were thirteen and knew what was going on but still didn't understand the implications.
“Pete … is he …?”
“He's gone. He did that part right at least,” Giles said.
“Oh,” Bo said softly as he glanced at his wife. Marisa kissed the twins on the head and closed her eyes in pain. “Oh,” Bo said again, softer as he looked out the window.
“We're here,” Giles said as he pulled up to a reefer truck.
“That was fast,” Bo said as he looked at the truck and the grocery store beyond. “I see. We go in and can co-mingle with the crowd. They'll lose us if they managed to follow us this far, right?”
“Something like that,” Giles said as he got out. He led the group around the corner to the open reefer. Puffs one after another silenced the Danver family forever. Each crumpled before they realized what was going on. One of the twins groaned softly. A second shot silenced her.
“Load them up and then get back to work. We'll deal with the mess later,” Giles ordered coldly as he strapped an apron on. He knew no one would notice the blood. This was a meat packing plant after all he thought. It was a pity they had to end an entire bloodline like that, but that was how it worked sometimes. Besides, the Danver family wasn’ old blood. They didn't have the Royal Jelly or genetic mods of the old lines. Therefore, they could be sacrificed.
