by Sam Schall
“Liz?” Tremayne looked at the pandemonium beyond the clear doors.
“Corporal, send for Colonel Santiago and contact General Okafor,” she said, cursing silently even as she issued her orders. “I want the block cordoned off. Capital security will want to take point but, until further orders, we will be in charge of security.” She watched as he stepped back to do as she said. Then she turned to Tremayne. “Stay here. Brief Okafor when she gets down here. I need to take control out there.”
Grimly, Tremayne gave a quick nod. Then she pulled her own comm. Elizabeth didn’t wait to see who she was contacting. There was too much to do and, if they didn’t act quickly, the shooter would get away.
Her breath caught as members Harper’s security team helped knelt on the ground near where she’d seen the president and her daughter go down. The president told them to get back as he rolled to his hands and knees. Before he could stand, several of his guards grabbed him and all but dragged him into the aircar. Moments later, it sped away, leaving the rest of them to figure out what happened and who was responsible.
“Loco, anything?” Connery called as she hurried to Elizabeth’s side. “Ma’am, you need to get inside. I have this,” she added, taking the woman’s arm and turning her away from where others knelt near where she’d last seen the president.
“Angel?” she asked softly, barely daring to breathe.
“I’ll find out. I promise. But I need you to get out of the line of fire.” When Elizabeth didn’t move, Connery stepped in front of her. “Ma’am, please. I promise, I will do everything I can to make sure Angel’s all right. But I can’t do that if I’m having to worry about you.” She swore softly when Elizabeth remained rooted where she stood. “General Shaw, with all due respect, you are not in armor and you aren’t armed. You are a distraction and a danger right now. Please get your butt inside and wait there until I come to you.” Not waiting for Elizabeth to respond, she motioned to one of the Marines exiting the building and ordered him to take her inside.
“Artemis, we have a preliminary trajectory,” Talbot said as he hurried in their direction.
Elizabeth jerked out of her escort’s grasp and took a step forward. “Where?” she demanded as Okafor joined them.
“The Midlothian embassy.”
“Lieutenant Connery, take what Marines you need from here and set up a perimeter around the embassy. Call in the Devil Dogs. Once they are in position, move in. I don’t give a damn if the ambassador tries to prevent you from entering. Someone shot at the president and, in the process, injured Angel. We will find the shooter and they will face justice.,” Okafor said. coldly. “Understood?”
“Understood, ma’am. Loco, call it in. I’ll get things organized here.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and looked to where her daughter lay. Blood pooled under her. Seeing it, she fought the panic rising in her. Ash wore her armor. That would have protected her from the worst the projectile could have done. The armor would also be working to stabilize her conditions. All they had to do was make sure the medics got there quickly, before she lost too much blood.
God, who had done this to her?
More importantly, why?
Moreau rolled to her knees and began breaking down her rifle. Quickly, carefully, she placed the pieces in its carrying case. All she had to do now was get out of the embassy. Once she had, she would disappear into the panic on the streets below. In a day or two, she’d send confirmation of the hit to Watchman. Then her life would be her own again. She’d get off Fuercon and recharge. She’d return. There were loose ends to be tied up. But they could wait. The rest of it was done and she felt better than she had in years.
She snapped the case lid shut and smiled. Her smile froze and her relief at having completed her mission flowed away as the unmistakable feel of a muzzle pressed against her temple registered. Icy fear lay heavy in the pit of her stomach. Before she could react, a hand reached around her and relieved her of her rifle case. Another hand shoved her to the rooftop. A knee was painfully planted in the small of her back. Panic set in and she tried to fight. Except she couldn’t. There were too many of them, too many hands holding her. Forcing her arms behind her back. Her wrists were secured, and she was roughly hauled to her feet.
She found herself face-to-face with both the ambassador and Fertig. It didn’t make any sense. Then it did. They had decided, for whatever reason, to work together. That put her at a disadvantage. All she could do, for now at least, was wait and pray they didn’t kill her outright. She didn’t think they would. They would still have Watchman to answer to – unless he’d authorized this action. No, he wouldn’t have. She still had value to him.
Damn it, she should have fled long ago.
“Search her,” Fertig told one of the guards. “She’ll have at least three weapons hidden on her somewhere.”
“You bitch!” Moreau spat.
Fertig’s hand flashed out, catching the woman across the chin. Moreau cried out and staggered back a step before the guard stopped her, holding her upright. She tried to lash out with her right foot, but he sidestepped her. A moment later, he wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her head back, painfully exposing her throat.
“You shouldn’t have tried to get clever,” Fertig said. “This attempt to discredit those of us at the embassy will be your last mistake. But don’t worry, we aren’t going to kill you. The ambassador has a much better plan for you.” She smiled and lightly patted the woman’s cheek.
“W-what are you going to do?”
“You not only tried to implicate us in the plan to assassinate Harper, but you failed to kill him,” Kalmár said. “You also let your personal agenda take precedence over your orders. She you are going to be sacrificed. But, as Ms. Fertig said, not by us. We’ll leave that to the Fuerconese. We’ll turn you over to them. You will serve as an excellent example as to what happens to those who betray Midlothian.”
“You can’t.” She struggled against the hands holding her. “I know too much.”
Fertig glanced at Kalmár and gave him a nod. He inclined his head once and reached into his jacket pocket. Moreau’s eyes widened in fear. She struggled frantically as she recognized the vial he held. The hand wrapped in her hair once again pulled her head back. Other hands held her head in a steel-like vise. Fertig smiled as she reached over and covered Moreau’s mouth and nose, cutting off her air. Tears ran down her cheeks and soon her lungs burned from lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, Fertig removed her hand and she could breathe again. Instinct took over. Moreau opened her mouth and drew a deep breath. When she did, the ambassador broke the vial and held it in front of her mouth. Almost instantly, her mind numbed as the drug spread through her. Her struggles lessened to nothing in a matter of a minute or two.
The hands, all but the one twined in her hair released her. Her heart pounded and her brain screamed for her body to respond. But it didn’t. It wouldn’t. She knew it. She’d used this same drug many times before. She had seen its effects as her victims watched helplessly as she killed them. Or left them to die. Never had she thought it would be used against her. Damn them all. Did they think she wouldn’t have safeguards in place? She’d take them all down, even if they killed her.
“You really are doing one last service for Midlothian, my dear,” Fertig said as she motioned for the guards to lift Moreau to her feet. “You are proving to the Fuerconese that we aren’t the enemy. I’ll be sure to let Mr. Watchman know how well you performed this last mission for him.”
A moan of protest was all she could manage as Fertig reached for her face with one hand. In the other, she held a white capsule. As if she could hear the screams of denial, of terror, in Moreau’s mind, the woman smiled and lightly caressed her cheek with her thumb. “Don’t worry. This is just to throw the Fuerconese off the track. It won’t harm you – much.” She gently opened Moreau’s mouth and inserted the capsule. Her gloved hand firmly closes the woman’s mouth, crushing the capsule between her tee
th.
“You’d best return to your office, Mr. Ambassador. You can monitor what happens from there,” Fertig said as she bent and retrieved the rifle case. “I’ll report to you as soon as this trash has been dealt with.”
“Make sure the Fuerconese understand we will do everything we can to assist in their investigation,” he said. He looked down at Moreau and smiled slightly. “I’ll begin drafting our report to Watchman about what happened.”
Fertig nodded and motioned for the two security guards to take Moreau on. Unable to move her head to look around, all Moreau can see is the floor as she is dragged off the roof and inside the embassy. They continue down the corridor toward the life. No one spoke. No one made any attempt to ease her fears. Instead, once inside the lift, Fertig secured the doors and snapped her fingers. The guards held Moreau between them as the woman struck her first in the face and then the ribs. Time and again she struck. Unable to defend herself, Moreau wondered if the talk of turning her over to the Fuerconese had been a ruse. Then Fertig stopped and once again reached out, this time lifting her prisoner’s face.
“We couldn’t let them think you surrendered without a fight, could we?” the woman asked with a smile.
The elevator gave a slight lurch and started on its way down. All too soon, Moreau realized she had been dragged outside. Afternoon sun beat down on her. She watched as the marble entry hall turned to stone pavers. The guards’ boots sounded loudly against the pavers as they moved further from the building. Finally they stopped and she saw the base of the fence that surrounded the embassy. A low moan escaped her lips, the best she could do. Someone, she assumed it was Fertig, cuffed her behind the ear and told her to shut up.
“Lieutenant, here is your shooter. We discovered her on the roof of the embassy after finding the body of one of our secretaries,” Fertig said as the gate opened. The guards dragged her out and off of embassy grounds.
“What happened to her?” a woman asked as she lifted Moreau’s head and looked in her eyes.
“My best guess is she tried to poison herself when she realized she couldn’t escape. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.”
“Very well. The Fuerconese Marine Corps appreciates your assistance. It is my understanding that President Harper wishes to have a word with the ambassador in the next day or two.”
“Please tell the president that the ambassador looks forward to speaking with him.”
“I will make sure to pass on the message. Please let me know if there is anything else we can do to assist Fuercon.”
Moreau’s mind screamed in denial, in anger, as she was dragged off. All her careful plans, all her contingencies and they’d been for naught. How?
Damn it, how had it all gone so wrong?
23
The door slid open with a muted whoosh. As it did, Elizabeth drew a deep breath and braced herself. She didn’t worry about anyone getting inside in an attempt to hurt Ashlyn again. Short of bringing a full company of armed and armored Marines with them, no one without the proper authorization could get near the younger woman. The Devil Dogs, along with the Warlords, had taken it upon themselves to set up security for their injured CO. Not only were guards posted outside Ashlyn’s room, but others stood posts throughout the medical center. Unlike the hospital’s standard security, the Marines were not only armed but armored – and they were ready to do whatever it took to keep Ashlyn safe. Elizabeth knew she should tell them to go home but she couldn’t. Not until she was confident those responsible for injuring Ash had been captured. Besides, she had a feeling even a direct order wouldn’t be enough to send most of them away. They were as devoted to her daughter as she was to them.
Turning, hoping this time the doctors had good news, she braced herself for the bad. Even though they had assured her Ashlyn would eventually recover, Elizabeth had her doubts. How could she not when her daughter looked so pale and almost fragile as she lay on the hospital bed. From the moment Ash first said she wanted to be a Marine, Elizabeth had prepared herself for the possibility she’d lose her eldest child in battle. Military service meant sacrifice, often the ultimate sacrifice. But this…this she hadn’t been ready for. How could she be? Ashlyn had made it home safely once again, only to be struck down by a sniper.
Instead of seeing one of the many doctors treating Ashlyn, Elizabeth found herself face-to-face with Helen Okafor. Before she could brace to attention, Okafor shook her head. The expression on her face said it all. This wasn’t an official visit.
Without a word, the general moved almost soundlessly across the room to stand next to Ashlyn’s bed. A slight smile touched her lips, easing some of her worry, to see Jake curled up at his mother’s side. Then, in a very ungeneral-like manner, the woman rested a light hand first on Ashlyn’s forehead and then her cheek. When she looked up at Elizabeth, worry once again clouded her dark eyes.
“How is she?”
“I’ll live.” Ashlyn’s voice was soft and filled with pain. But her eyes no longer looked unfocused and, when she glanced down at Jake sleeping next to her, a slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Thirsty.”
Elizabeth poured a cup of water from the waiting pitcher. Carefully, she helped Ashlyn lift her head enough to sip from the cup. A moment later, her daughter lay back. Pain etched deep lines in her face, but she had a little more color. Reassured, Elizabeth set the cup on the bedside table and signaled the nursing station that Ashlyn was awake.
“W-what happened?” Ash asked.
“You were shot trying to protect the President,” Okafor said.
Ash’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “Don’t remember.”
“It’s all right, love. The doctor said that might be the case.” Elizabeth grasped her hand.
“Your mother’s right.” Okafor smiled reassuringly. “When you get out of here, you can remind me to never question when you suggest it might be a good idea to be armored. The fact you were wearing your light armor probably saved your life. It slowed the projectile and then kept you stable until medical help arrived.”
“Corporal Connery also proved she’s going to be every bit as good as Adamson or Talbot, Ash. Even as she called out orders to find the shooter, she was working to make sure your armor was stabilizing you. Her quick action probably saved you.” Elizabeth’s voice hitched and she cleared her throat. Ashlyn didn’t need to know how close it had been, not yet at any rate.
“W-was anyone else hurt?”
“No. The shooter only managed to get off a single shot. We’ll tell you everything after you’ve gotten some more rest.” Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder as the door once again opened. This time Ashlyn’s lead doctor stepped inside.
“Colonel, your mother and General Okafor are going to give us a few minutes alone so I can check you,” Dr. Ahern said as he stopped at the foot of the bed. “Your son can stay.” Now he grinned. “I’m not sure we could get him to leave you. He’s been very adamant about needing to stay and make sure you’re all right.”
Ashlyn smiled and ran a hand over her sleeping son’s head. When she looked up at Elizabeth, her mother saw her concern.
“You’re going to be all right, Ash. I promise.” She bent and brushed her lips against her daughter’s cheek. “I’ll be right outside. Dr. Ahern will send for me as soon as he’s done here.” The look she gave the doctor left no doubt what she’d do should he fail to comply.
She waited until Ash nodded and then she followed Okafor out of the room. The moment the door closed behind them, Elizabeth leaned against the wall. Without realizing it, she slowly slid down until she sat on the floor. Knees drawn up, head bent, she fought for control. Since arriving at the hospital, she’d refused to let her fear surface. She’d done everything she could to reassure the rest of the family, the Marines who arrived to check on Ashlyn and then all the others. She’d been strong so Jake wouldn’t know how badly injured his mother was. She had maintained, but she didn’t know how much longer she could continue doing so.
For hours she had stood watch outside the operating room as the doctors worked to save Ashlyn. Then she had followed as her daughter was moved to a room. In the hours that followed, she hadn’t moved from her daughter’s side. Even when Abe and Kate tried to get her to go to the cafeteria with them, she’d refused. She’d wanted to be there when Ashlyn woke.
“It’s all right, Liz.”
Okafor sat next to her. A laugh, slightly hysterical, bubbled up and Elizabeth shook her head. What would the staff, much less the two Devil Dogs standing guard on either side of the door, think to see a brigadier general and the Commandant of the Marine Corps sitting on the floor like a couple of kids?
“She’s going to be all right.”
She said it more to convince herself than Okafor. It was the mantra she’d repeated over and over again for the last twenty-four hours. She might finally be to the point of accepting it. Maybe if she told herself that often enough, she would finally believe it.
“I know she is.” Okafor rested a reassuring hand on her arm for a moment. Then she leaned back and stared down the corridor. “She’s going to want answers. We might be able to put them off for a little while, but it won’t last.”
“She’s not the only one who wants answers.” Anger laced Elizabeth’s voice. She wanted more than answers. She wanted time alone with those responsible for hurting her daughter. It wouldn’t take her long to get the answers they all wanted. Of course, she’d then have to turn herself in to face a court martial, but it would be worth it if it meant an end to the conspiracy against not only Ashlyn but their home system. “Have you heard anything?”
Okafor shook her head. “No. Rico promised to brief us as soon as possible. My sources tell me he hasn’t gone off-duty since the shooting.”
