Storm Force: Book Three of the Last Legion Series

by Chris Bunch

  “So let’s consider that he goes at least back to those guns that Larix/Kura shipped in back during the ‘Raum rising. We didn’t get him then, were mostly lucky we were able to grab the bangsticks.

  “Next, how much you want to bet Snoopy was somehow involved with that flipping explosion that took out Aesc, and started the Musth War?”

  “No takers,” Angara said. “Especially since not one single freedom fighter bigot has claimed credit for killing that Musth. Two big operations, one perfect, one stopped by accident, and we’ve got to assume he’s been feeding Redruth everything we do for a long time. We’ve got to nail him before we can do a full-scale move against Larix/Kura.

  “You said you had a rotten idea, Jaansma.”

  “We set up another sortie, this one for Kura. But this one should look real only till the ship lifts off. We watch in every direction while we’re putting it together, hoping to snag our boy.

  “The problem is, of course, is that it’ll put everybody around Kura on full alert for a while, which’ll queer any attempt to really do a sneak against them for the near future. Plus, if we don’t get Snoopy, what’s the follow-up? I’m blank.”

  “This is the third time I’ve heard you boot that idea around since last night,” Njangu said. “I don’t like it any better than you, or than I did the first time. But maybe there’s a way to make it nastier, so our friend doesn’t catch on.

  “The only problem is it’ll screw somebody’s life up for a good while, and there’ll always be those who don’t get the correction later. We nail an innocent, loudly shout we’ve got Snoopy, and hope the real agent relaxes enough to get careless.”

  Hedley thought, then pulled at his nose.

  “That’s definitely shitty, Njangu. I think we ought to try it. But let’s not just screw up one guy’s flipping life. Let’s go for half a dozen.”

  From Matin:

  Force Breaks Spy Ring

  Scandal Rocks Legion Ranks

  By Ron Prest’n

  Leggett City — Six ranking officers of the Confederation Force were arrested early this AM by the military’s internal counterintelligence section, and charged with espionage and high treason. The six, whose ranks range from Haut to Alt, are accused of being members of a deep-cover spy ring, working for an unnamed extrastellar government.

  Matin, however, with its usual skill, learned from confidential sources that the government is almost certainly that of Larix and Kura, once considered one of Cumbre’s closest allies, but now regarded as having imperialist designs on our system.

  Mil Jon Headley, head of the Force’s Intelligence Section, told Loy Kouro, Matin’s publisher, that this ring has been operating for some time. “We estimate these agents have been working against us since at least the Troubles with the ‘Raum, and further are likely involved with the assassination of Musth Leader Aesc, which began the recent misunderstanding with that culture.

  “We’ve suspected the existence of such a network for some time,” Headley continued, “but continued our investigation until we were sure we had discovered all agents. We then made our arrests, and have all suspects in custody at a remote location, where full debriefing will be made.”

  Confessions are expected, and the trial will be public, and is expected to be held within the next three months, as soon as the military judicial system finishes preparing its case …

  “Son of a bitch couldn’t even spell my name right,” Hedley complained.

  “It could be worse, boss,” Garvin said. “He could’ve asked for pictures of those poor bastards we’ve got hiding out in the boonies until the heat goes down.”

  “Why couldn’t we have just arrested Kouro?” Njangu said. “He makes a pretty good enemy agent, from where I sit.”

  Loy Kouro was Jasith Mellusin’s ex-husband, an abuser, and a longtime enemy of Garvin’s. He also had been one of the most eager collaborators during the recent Musth War, and had been jailed after the Musth defeat by the Force. Criminal charges hadn’t stuck, but there were several megacredit civil suits pending.

  “That’s what I like about you,” Garvin said. “Every now and then, you do stick up for your friends.”

  “Have to. You owe me too much money.”

  “Awright, you two,” Hedley broke in. “Phase I is under way. Now, let’s … oh shit. Forgot to tell you. Both of you are due at sixteen hundred hours on the parade ground. Full dress.”

  “What for?”

  “Reenlistment ceremony. You’re going to provide an awesome example for the new blood.”

  Garvin and Njangu stared at each other in horror.

  “No way out?”

  “Not a chance,” Hedley said firmly. “This is the old man’s idea.”

  “Aw, shit! Can we at least get drunk afterward?” Njangu moaned.

  “You have my permission to go drinking this evening, and the Legion’ll pick up the tab,” Hedley said. “Just be able to function by dawn, or thereabouts.”

  “You see,” Garvin said. “The Force never takes away with one hand but what it gives with the other. I’ll go call Jasith for transport.”

  • • •

  “I thought you boys were very pretty out there, marching around and saluting everything from flags to lapdogs,” Jasith Mellusin said as she zigged around a shuttle lifting off, ignoring the horn blast, and dropped her lim neatly into the valet parking area of the Shelburne Hotel. “Still are, in fact.”

  Garvin started to preen a bit, then saw Jasith’s tongue sticking well into her cheek.

  “So why didn’t you let us change?” Njangu complained. “You think I like going out in this costume? Makes a man too noticeable when he might want to slide out in an unobtrusive manner.”

  “But you’re with me,” Jasith said. “Which means you’re not only going to be pretty, but well behaved, too.” She slid out of the lim’s pilot compartment as she spoke, hand automatically extending a bill to the attendant with the casual arrogance only the very rich knew.

  “Good and pretty, both? How goddamned dull,” Njangu said. “I coulda called a shuttle and had a lot less hassle.”

  “But not the company of somebody as lovely as I am,” Jasith said. “Besides, one of my friends may be here and lonely.”

  “Jasith Mellusin,” Garvin said. “Pimp to proper patriots.”

  She kicked him accurately in the shins, then yelped. “That’s why sojers wear boots,” Garvin said smugly. “Heavy boots.”

  “C’mon, you two,” Njangu said. “Alcohol calls.”

  The Shelburne was D-Cumbre’s most exclusive hotel, the social center for politicians and Rentiers. Oddly enough, the management also welcomed the Legion’s Intelligence and Reconnaissance section. Or, if welcome wasn’t precise, no one from I&R had been barred so far, as long as her or his credits clinked.

  The main entrance was a sweeping semicircular drive, with low steps leading into the main reception area, with walls of tiny antique glass panes.

  As Garvin, Jasith, and Njangu went up the steps, the door slid open, and Loy Kouro came out, walking with the precision of the very drunk. Flanking him were two very large men. All three wore evening dress.

  The following happened very quickly:

  Kouro noticed Jasith and Garvin, and his face reddened.

  Jasith and Garvin pretended Kouro didn’t exist.

  As the two parties passed close, Kouro leaned over and said something in an undertone to Jasith.

  Her eyes widened, her face went white, and her hand came up to backhand Kouro.

  Kouro pushed her away, and she went to one knee.

  Garvin had Kouro’s arm, spun with it, twisting. The bone snapped loudly, and Kouro howled, clutched it.

  One of the large men hit a stance, launched a knife-hand strike at Jaansma. Garvin wasn’t there, turning away toward the second man.

  The second man lifted his hands into guard as Garvin stepped inside them, headbutted the man in the face, hit him hard in the gut with both hands, was away as the
man went down, vomiting over himself.

  The first man snapkicked toward Garvin, was well wide of his mark, and Yoshitaro had the man’s foot in both hands and lifted high, brought his own foot up, and kicked the first squarely in the crotch.

  The first man howled, stumbled back into Kouro, who was intent on his broken arm, who screeched at the impact, stumbled back, bounced off the glass-paned wall.

  Kouro saw Yoshitaro, face in a grimace, a meter in the air above him, legs curled. Njangu lashed out in a flying-mare kick and smashed Kouro through the glass wall, landed on his hands, and rolled to his feet.

  Glass tinkled, and hotel employees scurried.

  “Son of a bitch,” Garvin said. “What’d he say to you, anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jasith said.

  “Nope,” Njangu agreed. “I suppose it doesn’t. Not now.” He surveyed the damage. “Guess press-military relations have just hit a new low, hmm? Who the hell, by the way, were those two bruisers?”

  “Damfino,” Garvin said. “Rent-a-goons, maybe. Or sports journohs.” He kicked a bit of glass. “Good thing the Legion’s picking up our tab. I’ll bet this one’ll be expensive.”

  “It surely relieved my tensions and anxieties better than a simple old drunk,” Njangu said dreamily. “Pity the son of a bitch appears to be still breathing.”

  • • •

  “Brawling in public,” Caud Angara growled. “In dress uniform, to boot. Savagely attacking, without any reason, and hospitalizing the publisher of the biggest holo on Cumbre. Plus two of his aides.”

  “Yessir,” Jaansma said. He and Yoshitaro were at rigid attention in front of the Caud’s desk.

  “Any explanation?”

  “Nossir,” Yoshitaro said.

  Angara considered them, picking up a piece of paper from his desk.

  “Mister Kouro has declined to press charges against you. His com said he preferred to let military justice deal with you two miscreants, since he considers it to be far more severe.” Angara grunted. “I am not fond of civilians expecting us to do their jobs for them.”

  He sighed. “Knowing Mister Kouro and his, shall we say, personality quirks, and certain … personal matters about you, Mil Jaansma, I can theorize about the actual course of events.”

  He tore the paper in half, deposited it in his wastecan.

  “I’m taking no official response to this matter, either as far as punishment or reprimands in your file. You will, however, be held responsible for the repairs to the Shelburne, which seems fair.

  “Also, both of you are on my unofficial villain list. I don’t want to have any other problems from either of you until I tell you it’s authorized to be rowdies. Understand?”

  “Yessir,” the two chorused.

  “I’ll also suggest you can get back into my good graces the quicker you catch that damned spy. That’s all. Dismissed.”

  Garvin saluted, and the two, moving like clockwork figures, left-faced and went to the door.

  “Jaansma!”

  Garvin stopped. “Yes, sir?”

  “After the hoo-raw, did you two ever get your reenlistment drink?”

  “Nossir. We didn’t figure it was a good night for boozing.”

  Angara nodded, and the two went out. After a moment, he shook his head, grinned, and turned to other matters.

  • • •

  Yoshitaro looked at screens. “Okay, here’s my theory on our agent. Since Redruth hasn’t spent much time on Cumbre, he must’ve hired him out-system. I’d guess Snoopy is either a native of Larix/Kura, or maybe a Cumbrian native who spent some time on those planets, long enough to get bought or subverted.”

  “Sounds logical,” Hedley said from where he sprawled on a couch.

  “It’d be a lot simpler if everybody on Cumbre had an ID card,” Yoshitaro said. “We could just look up anybody who’s been around Larix and Kura, haul ‘em in, and take out the thumbscrews.”

  “Hell of a note, hearing you say that,” Garvin said. “Considering your background.”

  Hedley looked curious. Yoshitaro decided this might not be the time to tell the boss about his background as a professional thief, lock-breaker, forger, arsonist, strongarm man, and general layabout.

  “Actually,” Hedley said, “you’d have a problem even if you could roust everybody in who knows anything about flipping Larix/Kura. Before you two got shipped out here, that was the main shopping vacation for the Rentiers. If we hauled all of those rich pigs in and started asking, you know they’d gossip, which I’ll assume would go straight back to Snoopy.”

  “So everything stays at ground zero until we nail him,” Garvin said. “All right, Cent Yoshitaro. Let’s hook the snake.”

  “Right,” Njangu said. “We’ve hopefully got Snoopy relaxed with our phony spies all locked up. Now I think it’s time to begin our operation against Kura.”

  • • •

  Hedley scanned the printout.

  “We’re sure … as sure as we can be … this includes everybody who had any knowledge of our penetration attempt against Larix?”

  “We were sloppy, boss,” Njangu said wearily. “But not that sloppy. We did try to keep a need to know on things.”

  “And you trust the Force enough to be assuming the leak to Snoopy was from a civilian source?”

  “Not me,” Yoshitaro said. “I mistrust everygod-damnedbody. But Garvin said we can’t spread ourselves too thin.”

  “ ‘Kay,” Hedley said. “Now, get your ass out there and talk to all participants again, and make sure they didn’t just happen to forget anybody.”

  “Slave driver.” But Yoshitaro said it with grudging respect.

  • • •

  “Hey, Njangu,” Ben Dill said. “I got a small confession to make.”

  “Don’t tell me the baddie we’re looking for is you?” Since Dill had been party to the blown mission into Larix, nobody had bothered to run the cover story about the phony Kura operation past him.

  “Yeh,” Dill said, and bared his fangs. “Went and bribed me for two honeys and a roast felmet under glass.”

  “I should’ve known that was why your breath smells the way it does. What’s the confession?”

  Dill told him. When he finished, he spread his hands. “Sorry. But we were in a hurry.”

  “You just remembered that?”

  “No.” Dill looked shamefaced. “Alikhan had to remind me.”

  “Fine,” Njangu snapped. “Now be sure and remind me if you happen to remember anything else, like you’ve got an aged aunt who’s head of Redruth’s security.”

  “You mean I didn’t mention her already?”

  • • •

  “Cent Ben Dill to pick up some charts,” Dill said. “Requisition YAG One-Nine-Eight.” The Musth beside him didn’t speak, but his head darted back and forth.

  The clerk took off her glasses, scowled at the alien, then lifted a security case from under the counter, set it down, a little too heavily.

  “Thank’ee,” Dill said, scrawled a signature, and the pair left.

  The clerk looked around the airfield office. Her supervisor and another clerk were still working.

  “Could you take the desk for me, ma’am, for a couple of minutes?”

  The supervisor nodded, taking her folder to the desk. The clerk picked up her belt pouch, and headed for the bathrooms.

  • • •

  “Bingo,” the tech said. “The scan picked it up right away. We’ve got ‘Eleven’ and ‘Scrambling.’ The rest of the transmission’s coded.”

  “Enough?” her tweg asked Yoshitaro.

  “More than,” he said, turned to the four military policemen in the back of the Grierson, parked a few meters from the spaceport’s administrative building. “Take her. Don’t let her use an L-pill, and make sure you grab all of her possessions. Get in and out, fast. She’s got no rights. No talking to anybody, no lawyer, no nothing.”

  • • •

  “We’ve got an agent,” He
dley said. “I’ve got our analysts looking for others. But so far, this Pon Wrathers is all we’ve got.”

  “Bear down,” Angara said. “The clock is running.”

  • • •

  The room was very big and felt like it was far underground. An air conditioner was running somewhere, just loud enough to be annoying. Pon Wrathers stood in a pool of light. There was a desk in front of her. Sitting behind it was a man, hidden in the shadows. There was a small box on the table.

  “I wish a lawyer.”

  Silence.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Njangu Yoshitaro.”

  “What are you? Some sort of policeman?”

  Again, silence.

  “Why am I being held?”

  “Who do you suppose you’re spying for?” Njangu asked.

  “I’m not a spy!”

  “Then why did you make a coded transmission just after giving some officers of the Force classified navigational data?”

  “I made no transmission! That scrambler was planted on me by one of those thugs who arrested me.”

  “You’re either naturally quick, or well trained,” Njangu said. “Did you realize you were working for an agent of an extrastellar government?”

  Wrathers jerked just slightly. “I did no such thing! I want a lawyer!”

  “Let me apprise you of something, Wrathers. You don’t know who I work for, what agency of the government. Perhaps I’m not working for any government. The Rentiers used to run their own police and death squads, remember?”

  Wrathers blinked.

  “If that were the case, your asking for a lawyer is a joke,” Njangu went on. “You ought to be more concerned about what could happen to you, here, alone, in a strange place, when no one on the outside knows anything about where you are.”

  “Who are you? What are you doing to me?”

  Njangu waited silently for a moment. It was interesting being on the far end of techniques he’d experienced as a youth on Waughtal’s Planet.

  “I’m doing nothing,” he said calmly. “Not yet. All I want is my questions answered. Why were you transmitting data in code?”

  “I already told you, I wasn’t making any transmission!”