The Iron Admiral: Deception

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The Iron Admiral: Deception Page 4

by Greta van Der Rol


  “Commiserations are clearly appropriate,” Leonov said, a hint of a smile hovering around his lips. “No, this is a bit more important.”

  More important than Allysha?

  Leonov sat in another chair and steepled his hands. “You were followed today. By this.” Using his comlink, he projected an image of a nondescript skimmer carrying two people. “One of your escort vehicles noticed and went to investigate. These two know their business; they pretended they were going to a factory to put us off the scent.”

  He brought up the two men’s profiles; Liam McNeill, late of Ullnish, looking for a job on an all-human world. Kris Hybent, a buyer for the Quartermaster chain on Hildebrand.

  “Their IDs check out—face matches, voice prints, all the usual checks. But my people put trackers on them.” He grimaced. “Our friends found them both and transferred them to a skimmer, then stole another

  skimmer and disappeared.”

  “Smart.”

  “Very. I’d hoped that these two fellows would lead us to Sean O’Reilly.”

  “You think he’s in Malmos?”

  “I can’t be certain. You know how hard he is to track. We thought we’d found him on Kentor but he disappeared a few days ago, not long before this fellow McNeill arrived. And it’s interesting—this McNeill fellow has a chip but we can’t track it for some reason.”

  “Really? That sounds like something Allysha could do. Or maybe O’Reilly. According to Allysha, he’s good.”

  “I’m wondering if this McNeill fellow is O’Reilly. Either way, we need to find these two.”

  “You think this was about Allysha. What makes you so sure? It might have been unrelated, some half-brained assassination attempt on me.”

  “Perhaps. If that’s the case I still want to find them. Something’s happening out there. The ptorix are too quiet, the GPR is too quiet. Just consider this.” He ticked the points off on his fingers. “We know Tisyphor was GPR and whatever they wanted from Allysha they didn’t get. Van Tongeren was killed within a day of being released, a professional hit job which is what they’re known to do with failures.

  O’Reilly has disappeared and this fellow McNeill can’t be traced. Let’s assume she was the target, which means somebody is still chasing her but we don’t know what for. And then again, if it isn’t the GPR after Allysha, then we still need to know who they are and what they want.”

  Saahren leaned back into his chair.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “That we do nothing and we see what happens.”

  Something about the way Leonov said the words chilled his blood. Not again, surely not. “Forget it, Vlad. I’m not going to put her into danger again.” First Brjyl, then Carnessa. And on Carnessa she was nearly murdered. No, not again.

  Leonov rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I knew you’d say that. But—”

  “No.” Saahren smacked his hand down on the arm of his chair. “Absolutely not. You’re not going to dangle her on a line like some… some bait for a fish.”

  “Chaka, please. Let’s look at this rationally. Nobody wants to hurt her. Nobody. They want her to do something. We keep an eye on her, and when they make a move, we’ve got them.”

  “Use her again, you mean. No, Vlad. It isn’t going to happen.”

  “Chaka, the GPR wants her for something. We still don’t know what and we’ve run out of ways of finding out. We’ll look after her, I promise you.”

  He drummed his fingers on the chair. There had to be some other way. Therehad to be. “They might be planning a major hit on a casino or something. She could certainly manage that without breaking a sweat.”

  “Well, then we know that. But you don’t think that’s likely.”

  Saahren stared at his old friend. No, he didn’t. More likely a guidance system, something to break through security in some way. Choices, damnable, impossible choices. He stood and went back to the window, his fingers absently tracing the scar on his right cheekbone. He wished he could see her, talk to her. But right now, he’d probably just make things worse.

  He turned back to Leonov. “All right. But make sure she gets some training in how to look after herself.

  Send her to Werensa. And don’t let her out of the compound until she’s had a week with him. And make

  sure she always has an escort—a team that won’t make mistakes.”

  Leonov nodded. Saahren saw the relief in his eyes. “Werensa’s a good idea. And don’t worry; we’ll keep her safe.”

  The door closed behind Leonov. Saahren stared around the apartment, opulent as a penthouse in a premium hotel. With even less soul. If there was no hint of Allysha in her apartment, there was no hint of him here. The place provided him with a convenient bed, nothing more. He probably didn’t need another drink but he was going to have one, anyway. He poured another generous measure of Lochandor into his

  glass. He sat, stretched out his legs and swirled the liquor around.

  Kira.

  Years had passed since he last relived that day. He had suppressed the memory, forced it into some dark corner of his subconscious, caged and impotent, until that stupid boy unlocked the fury. The images rolled in his mind like a news broadcast, himself as a skinny twelve year old.

  “Mother,” he shouted as he burst through the front door, “we have to go. The mercenaries are coming.”

  “Your father will take care of it, Chaka.” She sat in a chair, rocking her grandson to sleep.

  “No.” He shook his head and grabbed her arm. “No. Father’s been captured. I think Haldar is dead.”

  The hand rocking the cradle stopped. At least he had her attention.

  “How do you know this?”

  “Mother, come on.” He pulled at her arm. “I followed them. I saw it. Come on, we have to go.”

  Kira came in from a bedroom. “What’s happening?” Her eyes flicked between Chaka and her mother.

  Chaka turned to his sister. Kira would help. “We have to go. The soldiers are coming.”

  She stared at him for a moment but she believed him. Chaka took the baby out of the cradle before his mother could stop him and started for the door.

  “Chaka,” his mother snapped as she stood.

  “Now, before it’s too late,” he urged.

  At last she seemed to understand. The expression on her face turned from disapproval to concern. A vehicle approached, then another, the roar of their engines loud and incongruous in the sleeping village.

  She glanced nervously at the front door.

  Chaka handed the child back to his grandmother and almost shoved her out the back door, Kira at his heels. They hurried down the path toward the forest just in time. A soldier burst through the door behind them.

  “There,” shouted the man. “Two of them.”

  Two of them. So they hadn’t seen his mother. She ran on ahead, burdened by the baby. Chaka slowed a little, touched Kira’s hand and dived down a side track. “Come on. We can out-run them.” She followed.

  From other houses Chaka heard screams and shouts, the hiss of energy weapons. He ran along the overgrown path, leaping over rocks and fallen timber, Kira at his shoulder. The soldiers followed, swearing. A little bit further and they’d be safe. Kira stumbled and fell. He turned back to help her up.

  And then it was too late.

  “Well, well,” gloated the one who held Kira. “A juicy little female. Just the way to end a successful campaign.” He groped her body with one hand.

  Chaka struggled, affronted, disgusted at what the man was doing to his sister. The soldier who held him laughed at his efforts and cuffed him around the head. “You can come too, boy. You can see what happens to traitors.”

  The soldiers dragged them both back to the house. They laughed as the one who’d caught Kira tore her clothes from her body and raped her.

  “Leave some for us, Hek,” called one as Kira cried out in pain.

  Chaka struggled but the man was too strong. “You want to watch this, kid
.” He held the boy’s head with a hard, calloused hand so he couldn’t turn away. “You might learn something.”

  He tried to close his eyes, but he could still hear her gasps and groans and her pleas for them to stop, they were hurting her, please, no, please.

  “Okay, my turn.” The man holding Chaka thrust him over to another man. Chaka looked at her then.

  Kira. Saw the terror and pain and helplessness in her eyes for just a moment, before she turned her head to face the next assault.

  They raped her again and again and each time her struggles and cries weakened. They made him watch, forced his head around when he tried to look away, taunted him, mocked him, assured him she was enjoying it. In the end, she lay on the floor, limp and silent, bruised and bloody. And the last thug said,

  “You watching son?” He waited until Chaka’s head was wrenched around. “We can’t leave any evidence, you know.” Still grinning, he pulled back her head by the hair and slit her throat. Chaka saw the spurt as the artery severed, felt the splatter of warmth on his cheek. Her body jerked once. Hot tears streamed down his face to mingle with her blood.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt for long,” said the man holding him.

  Chaka avoided the first blow, but not the second.

  His eyes were wet. He lifted the forgotten glass in his hand and drank. The liquor was fiery in his throat.

  ChapterSix

  Allysha arrived at her office a few minutes late. She’d had a terrible night; she’d hardly slept at all. The events at Lake Sylmander replayed again and again, Saahren beating the young thug’s face to a pulp.

  He’d been so angry, so dangerous. She’d slipped into sleep and lived through what had happened to his sister, but this time the victim was her. She woke gasping, clammy with sweat, her mind full of the fading memory of an ugly man leering at her, a knife in his hand. When she finally managed to drop off again, Saahren took over. He’d rescued her and they’d made love. And then he morphed into Sean and the whole fantasy evaporated. Just when she was starting to get over him; when she was beginning to consign

  the past to history, where it belonged, Saahren pushed himself back into her life, insinuated himself into her heart again. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

  She’d tossed her bag into its usual corner before she noticed the flowers. Her shoulders slumped.

  Simple and lovely, the arrangement stood on her desk, five golden blooms tucked into bright green foliage. She didn’t need to read the note to know who sent them, but she read the message anyway.

  ‘Thank you for a wonderful day. Brad.’ Brad. Yes, he paid for them. But he would simply have given an order to his adjutant. Butcher, send some flowers to Miss Marten. She’d have to commend SenComm Butcher on his taste the next time she saw him. She hesitated. She could just throw them away. Yes.

  She’d do that after work.

  She walked through to the work room, where the five specialists she was training sat at their stations.

  Five pairs of eyes stared at her. “Morning folks.”

  “Well?” demanded Anna. “Tell!” She waved her hands in a beckoning motion. “Who’s Brad? What does he look like? Is it serious?”

  Allysha snorted. “You lot have been reading my mail.”

  “Of course we did,” Anna said, tossing her head. “The flowers are beautiful. So come on, who is he?”

  “Just somebody I used to know,” Allysha said. “He was in Malmos for just one night, now he’s gone.

  No, it’s not serious and the rest doesn’t matter.”

  Anna tossed a skeptical glance over to Sirikit, who grinned. “Where did you go on your wonderful day?”

  Damn it. Usually she didn’t mind Anna’s forthright approach to life, but this was something she didn’t want to discuss. Still, they wouldn’t let it go. Best to give them enough to satisfy their curiosity. “To the Cusang markets.”

  Hassan rolled his eyes. “How very romantic. Not my first choice for a hot date.”

  “Which is probably dinner at your apartment, right?” Todd sneered. “Or maybe breakfast in bed?”

  Hassan raised an eyebrow. “You have your fiancée; I like to spread myself around.”

  Todd’s brows lowered in disapproval, but Allysha smiled. He was a good looking lad, Hassan, with a reputation to match. He’d even tried to charm her for a while.

  “Shut it, you two,” Anna said. “I want to know about Allysha’s hot date.”

  “It wasn’t a hot date. He’s just a friend,” Allysha said. Not even a friend. “And then we had curry for dinner, and we walked by Lake Sylmander and talked about a few things.”

  “That’s more like it,” Hassan said, grinning. “Then what?”

  Allysha rubbed absently at a bruise on her arm. Then what indeed? “I went home and he left.”

  “How did you get that?” Tensan asked, pointing at the bruise.

  “Oh, I must have banged my arm against something somewhere. I don’t remember.”

  She was pleased when the IS interrupted to summon her to Admiral Leonov’s office.

  “Come in and sit down,” he said when she appeared in his doorway.

  “Well?” He leaned toward her across the desk, his chin supported on one hand.

  “What?” She folded her arms.

  “Come on, Allysha. How was your day with Chaka?”

  “Grand Admiral Saahren and I had a pleasant day.” She stressed the first two words slightly. “Except for the mugging bit.”

  “Yes,” he drawled. “Chaka says you are to be given an intensive, weeklong course in self-defense…” he raised his hand as she frowned, “…don’t interrupt and don’t bother to argue. The course will start this evening. Can you give your people enough to do or should they be redeployed for the time being?”

  “I could only keep them busy for a day or two at most. You’d best redeploy them.” She supposed the course made sense. If she could look after herself then he wouldn’t feel obliged to demolish people to save her. Which reminded her. “What happened to the fellows in the vehicle park?”

  “All four are well known young thugs with previous convictions for theft, assault, breaking and entering and so on. So don’t waste your time feeling too sorry for them.”

  “Yes, but what happened to them? The kid didn’t die, did he?”

  Leonov’s smile was not nice. “He’ll live. A broken nose, bruises, black eyes. None of them will be in a hurry to do anything much for a while.”

  “They were beaten up, weren’t they? I mean the rest of them. I thought he’d killed the one who groped me.”

  “If we’d given them to the police, we would have had to involve Chaka.”

  Allysha sighed. “Like I said to him. You think you’re above the law.”

  “Chaka doesn’t like rapists. He has a reputation for handing out rough justice on that score. I could tell you stories.”

  “Yes, well,” Allysha said half to herself. “I suppose you’d be like that after you’d watched your sister being raped and murdered.”

  There was something in Leonov’s expression. She met his eyes. “You didn’t know.”

  “I knew his father and all his brothers and sisters died in an uprising on Ceres. I didn’t know that.”

  She caught her lip in her teeth. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “Don’t worry. Nobody will hear it from me. Including Chaka. Did he tell you last night?”

  Allysha nodded. She remembered the look on his face, the pain in his eyes. She realized last night as she lay in her bed staring at the ceiling, what happened at Lake Sylmander must have been close to a replay for him. The beating was revenge for his sister but he’d torn through those boys like a hurricane unleashed as soon as the creep groped her. Yes, he did that for her. He could have waited for his security people to arrive. If he hadn’t been so brutal, hadn’t lost control, she could almost excuse his behavior. Almost.

  Leonov’s voice intruded. “Allysha, you probably know mor
e about Chaka Saahren than anybody in this building.”

  Yes, she probably did. She saw him again, blank-eyed and cold, as he beat the stuffing out of the guy who’d groped her.Chohzu the Destroyer.

  “What’s this self-defense training about?” she asked briskly, changing the subject. “Is it about the Lake Sylmander thing?”

  “Yes, I suppose that triggered it. We should have done it before. Whether you like it or not, your association with the grand admiral makes you a target. We’ll assign security people but it’s best if you can help yourself. You’ll train with Chief Under Officer Werensa. As well as martial arts and pistol handling he considers things like assessing situations, recognizing risks, how best to handle different scenarios. My clerk will send you the details.”

  “What should I tell my group?”

  “Tell them you’ve been sent to a senior officer’s training session to instruct in ptorix body language.” He concentrated for a moment. “Get the details from my implant.”

  Allysha shrugged. “Whatever you say, Admiral. You’re paying my salary.” She rose to her feet.

  “By the way, did you like the flowers?” Leonov’s eyes gleamed.

  “Very nice. SenComm Butcher has excellent taste.”

  He chuckled. “Chaka said you’d say that. He told me to tell you he picked them himself.”

  ****

  Allysha hesitated in front of Fleet building three and checked the instructions again. Yes, this must be it.

  The graphic on her implant flashed on the third door to her left. The door slid open as she approached and she stepped warily inside.

  A man stood in front of her, arms folded, still. He was of medium height, lean and wiry, his age anything from thirty five to fifty; an unprepossessing man, someone who would be lost in a crowd.

  “Chief Werensa?” she asked.

  He nodded once without smiling. “And you are clearly Miss Marten.”

  The climate conditioning hissed softly. She didn’t try to fill the silence with words, just looked at him.

  “This evening I want to find out what you can do so I can set a starting position. I’ve brought a colleague with me and I’d like you to defend yourself against his attack.” Werensa glanced over her left shoulder.

 

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