Fire from Ashes

by Sam Schall

  Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. She trusted Santiago to find the answers, but it couldn’t happen soon enough. Before she could say so, the sounds of someone approaching from down the corridor reached them. She opened her eyes in time to see Okafor climb to her feet. Elizabeth pressed the palm of her right hand to the floor and prepared to stand. Before she could, Okafor told her to stay where she was. She would handle this.

  Too tired emotionally and physically to argue, Elizabeth obeyed. She watched as Corporal Connery, along with Adamson and Talbot, approached. Connery and Talbot wore light armor. Adamson, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches, wore MARPAT. All were armed. Seeing the case Connery carried, Elizabeth frowned slightly. As they neared, the brigadier general wondered what had happened now.

  “Report.” Okafor spoke softly but the command was clear.

  “Teams of Devil Dogs and Warlords are alternating guard shifts here at the hospital and the Santos’ home. They will continue to do so until the colonel is released or until we are sure everyone responsible for her being injured have been taken into custody. So far, all shifts are being covered by volunteers and I have received messages from not only the other Marine units on-planet but from naval personnel as well saying they wish to assist,” Talbot answered.

  “We have increased security around HQ and the space port, ma’am,” Anderson said as she shifted a bit uncomfortably on her crutches. “I’ve also been coordinating with President Harper’s security force. We will be informed if additional assistance is needed there.”

  “Excellent.” Okafor paused for a moment and, even though she couldn’t see the general’s expression, Elizabeth had a feeling she was thinking hard. “Inform your people that they are to tighten surveillance on their targets. We will proceed with the next phase of the op as soon as we receive the go-ahead. You may tell them I expect that to happen soonest.”

  “Ooh-rah, Ma’am.” There could be no mistaking the newly minted captain’s desire for vengeance. “With your permission, Ma’am, how’s the colonel?” Adamson looked past Okafor to where Elizabeth sat against the wall.

  “She’s conscious. The doctor’s with her.” She wanted to be able to say more, to reassure two of her daughter’s closest friends and the young woman she knew was fast becoming a friend, but she couldn’t, not until she knew more.

  “Ma’am, if she needs anything, you’re to let us know,” Talbot told her.

  “I will, Loco.” She smiled at the Master Guns’ surprise at her use of his call sign.

  Before anything else could be said, the door opened and Dr. Ahern stepped outside. Seeing him, Elizabeth climbed to her feet. With Okafor at her side, the others just behind them, she waited, her mother’s fear overriding everything else. Then, when Ahern smiled and reached out to lightly rest a hand on her shoulder, her knees felt as if they’d buckle under the weight of her relief.

  “Ash?”

  “She is going to be fine,” he assured her. “I’m not going to lie. It will take time. She’s got at least a month, possibly more, of recovery time ahead of her, but she will be all right.” He paused, making eye contact with each of them. Then, as the sounds of others approaching reached them, he looked down the corridor. He waited until Abe and Kate joined them, their expressions as worried as Elizabeth’s had been, before continuing. “As I was saying, Colonel Shaw should make a full recovery. She is responding well to treatment, but she still has a long road ahead of her. I anticipate she will be off-duty at least a month and on limited duty for at least as long afterwards. As I told you when she came in, her injuries were serious. We were lucky she wore her armor and that Corporal Connery acted as quickly as she did.”

  Relieved, Elizabeth looked at Connery and nodded once. Later, she’d make sure the young woman knew just how much she appreciated all she’d done for Ashlyn. Then, reaching for Abe’s hand, she turned her attention back to the doctor. “When can she start having visitors?”

  “In a day or two.” Ahern pinned them all with a firm look. “I understand you need to give her the outline of what happened. If you don’t, she’s only going to worry and that isn’t good for her. But that is the only thing close to dealing with her duties she is to have anything to do with until I say otherwise. She needs to focus on getting well and nothing else right now.”

  “We understand,” Okafor assured him.

  “I also want you to go home and get some rest, General Shaw. Your husband or daughter can spell you for a few hours.”

  “But,” Elizabeth started to protest.

  “I understand, truly.” Ahern’s expression softened. “But you haven’t slept in more than a day. Just as she doesn’t need to worry about the regiment, she also doesn’t need to worry about you.”

  “Mom, you and Dad can take Jake home. I’ll sit with her until you get back,” Kate said softly.

  “We will be glad to take turns sitting with her as well, ma’am,” Adamson said. Talbot and Connery nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll set something up,” Okafor said before Elizabeth could respond. “You three go check on her now. Let her know everything is all right.”

  Elizabeth nodded and motioned for her husband and daughter to go ahead. Then she turned to Connery. “Corporal, might I ask what you’re up to?” As she spoke, she motioned to the case the young woman held in one hand.

  “I thought the colonel might feel a bit better with some of her own clothes, ma’am.”

  Elizabeth nodded and did her best not to smile. She had no doubt there was more than clothes in the case. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit to discover Connery had packed a few “toys” that would help keep Ashlyn safe should an assassin manage to somehow get past the guards outside.

  “Very good.” She nodded in appreciation and started back to Ash’s room. She paused at the door and turned back. “MJ, I’ll take you home. I promise I won’t be long. Loco, I’m trusting you and Freya to keep my daughter safe.”

  With that, she opened the door and stepped inside. Ashlyn was going to be all right. She had to believe that. Nothing else was acceptable.

  Ashlyn carefully changed positions. As she did, she clenched her jaw against the pain. She’d been injured worse before. That was the cost of being a Marine in wartime. But she didn’t remember it hurting so badly. Nor had her mother been around those first few days afterwards, worried and hovering. That was bad enough. Worse were the grim faces of the Marines standing guard inside, and she suspected outside, her room.

  When she first regained consciousness, their presence sent her pulse racing fast enough a nurse had come running into her room. Before she even realized why fear shot through her like a wildfire, Elizabeth had sent everyone from the room. Understanding, guilt, even anger darkened her mother’s eyes. Then, carefully helping her change positions, the woman had apologized. None of them had considered what Ash might think to wake and find herself under armed guard.

  At least now she knew the guards were there to protect her. The Tarsus penal colony was behind her and those responsible for sending her there had met their justice. At least most of them had. She had no doubt some had managed to escape but, if she had anything to say about it, that wouldn’t last long. However, for the moment at least, she needed to focus on recovering.

  “Do you need more pain meds?” Elizabeth asked in concern.

  “No.”

  She did, but she wasn’t going to tell her mother. She had spent much of the last three days sleeping because the doctors had kept her pumped full of drugs. Part of her understood. Her body needed time to heal. Even with the nanites doing their magic, it was going to take time to recover and it was going to hurt – a lot. Everyone seemed so worried and so determined to make sure she didn’t suffer any more pain than absolutely necessary. While she appreciated it, she also needed answers and she wouldn’t get them if the doctors put her under again.

  “Ashlyn.”

  She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. It was bad enough her mother, not to mention her fath
er and sister, had been hovering since she first regained consciousness. Now Okafor stood next to her bed, looking as concerned as Elizabeth. The commandant had arrived a few minutes earlier along with Rico Santiago. His presence was the real reason she did not want another painkiller yet. She wanted – no, she needed – to know what he could tell her about what happened.

  “I promise I’ll let you know if I start hurting too badly.” That was all she’d give them. Now it was their turn, whether they liked it or not. “What about the shooter?”

  Instead of answering, Santiago looked first to Okafor and then to Elizabeth. Seeing it, Ashlyn all but growled in frustration. If she could have done so without hurting badly enough she’d possibly lose consciousness, she would have crossed her arms. Of course, the effect wouldn’t be as dramatic as if she could do so while on her feet. But she knew better than to even try that. If she did, assuming she managed to stand before her mother forced her back onto the mattress, she’d fall on her face.

  To her embarrassment, both Elizabeth and Okafor looked at her and chuckled. As they did, she narrowed her eyes, glaring.

  “You were right, Liz. She does look exactly like Jake when he doesn’t want to do as he’s told,” the commandant said, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “I’d remind you the doctors said I wasn’t to stress about anything but that might be considered insubordinate,” Ashlyn muttered. “I might even be tempted to remind you that, after being the target of a conspiracy for so long, holding information back from me might trigger my paranoia.”

  For a moment, no one said anything. They didn’t need to. Their expressions said it all. Each of them looked surprised by her comment and then angry. She had a feeling they weren’t angry with her but with themselves. Elizabeth cursed softly. Then she bent and carefully helped Ashlyn as she tried to sit up some. The bed adjusted to her new position and Elizabeth tucked the sheet around her waist before lightly kissing her cheek.

  “We didn’t mean to upset you, Ash. It’s just that we’ve been so worried.”

  “I know, Mom. But you have to understand that the not knowing is harder on me than knowing the truth.” She waited, watching her mother until Elizabeth nodded slowly. Once she had, Ash turned her attention to the others. “Rico?”

  “When you’re stronger, you can review the full report, Ash.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he gave her a look that had her snapping it closed. “But I will give you the high points, such as they are.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked with more than a trace of suspicion.

  “Quite simply, we have more questions now than we did before.”

  She cursed softly. How long would it take to finally get the answers they needed? How many more were going to have to die before then?

  “Just tell me.” She nodded in thanks as her mother handed her a mug of coffee.

  “We have the shooter. Thanks to Lieutenant Connery’s fast thinking, a team of Devil Dogs traced the shot’s trajectory to the Midlothian Embassy. When they arrived, they didn’t have to storm the gates as they were prepared to do, In fact, the ambassador and members of the embassy’s security team were waiting for them. They had the shooter in custody and were ready, even willing, to hand her over.”

  Ashlyn frowned. Had they been wrong about the Midlothians or was the ambassador playing some kind of a game to throw them off the scent?

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Evan Moreau.”

  Ashlyn hissed in pain as she sat up straighter. Instantly, Elizabeth was there, easing her back against the mattress. Before she could ask if Ash was all right, Ash waved her off. Moreau? Maybe now she’d get answers to some of the questions that had been plaguing her for so long.

  “And?” She drawled out the word.

  “Like I said, we have more questions than answers – again.” Santiago ran a hand over his short-cropped hair, his expression frustrated. “As we’d suspected, the Moreau identity is fake. It is also the best I’ve ever encountered. It’s no wonder she managed to live and work under it as a successful businesswoman here in the capital for years. Nothing about it sent up any red flags.”

  He turned and paced across the small room. Ashlyn watched, worried, as he stopped before the window and looked outside. When he turned back, he looked as if he might start punching holes in the wall any moment. That wasn’t good, not from him. One of the things that made him so good at his job was the fact he never let his emotions get the better of him.

  “Ash, I promise, I will find out who she is. No fake ID is beyond breaking, and I will break hers.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor for a moment. When he looked up, he blew out a breath before continuing. “As I’ve told General Okafor and FleetCom, what you have to understand is this goes beyond fake papers. Moreau changed her appearance with more than mere enhancements. She’s had extensive surgery. The specialists we’ve called in are still trying to determine just how much and to what extent. Right now, they are confident it includes facial and body sculpting, not just a change in hair color but in hair itself. That takes time and a great deal of money and hurts like hell from what they’ve told me. There’s more and it is in the report when you’re strong enough to go through it. Let’s leave it with the opinion that she looks nothing like she did before the surgery.”

  Ashlyn listened in growing concern as he continued describing what they knew and what they had inferred. Moreau somehow had the connections to remove her DNA tags from not only the computer records on Fuercon but from those records held by its allies. Of course, that assumed she had been off of Fuercon before her capture and Santiago would bet good money she had. Some of the treatments she’d received weren’t available on their homeworld or even in the system. That meant she had money and connections, both of which they had to find.

  “Right now, my people are working to track Moreau’s every movement for the last six months. We’re looking for her bolt-holes, other aliases she used and where she might have worked. I also have people, inside and out, keeping an eye on the Midlothian embassy and its employees. Despite what the ambassador has said, someone inside the embassy was involved in your shooting. They had to be. There is no way Moreau could have gained access to the grounds, much less the embassy roof, otherwise. The ambassador and his people are being helpful even though they have given us nothing to work with.”

  Ashlyn didn’t need to see the suspicion in his eyes to know they were being anything but. “What has she said?”

  When Santiago didn’t respond, she looked first to Okafor and then to her mother. Neither woman would meet her eyes. Frustrated, worried, she fisted one hand on top of the sheet. Then she turned her attention back to Santiago. “Rico?”

  “She hasn’t told us anything. She can’t.”

  For a moment, she looked at him, not sure she had heard right. “What do you mean she can’t? You said you had her in custody.”

  “We do.” He blew out a long breath and then gently sat on the edge of her bed. “Ash, we don’t know what happened. When the Midlothians turned her over to us, she was conscious but unresponsive. They denied doing anything to her. In fact, they suggested she must have taken some sort of poison or other drug just before they arrested her. The doctors who examined her once your Devil Dogs got her back to the security building found the remnants of a capsule in her mouth.”

  “But?” She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “Test results confirm the capsule’s contents wouldn’t explain her current condition.” He nodded when she looked at him in surprise. “Unfortunately, we have proof of no other explanation. Not that it fools any of us. However it was done, Moreau’s alive but locked in a waking coma of sorts. Until the medicals could figure out what happened and how to counteract it, she isn’t going to tell us anything.”

  Ashlyn nodded, frustrated she was stuck in bed. She couldn’t even get up to pace. Damn it, the woman who had targeted her, who had been part of the conspiracy that led to
her people dying and to others, herself including, being sent to the penal colony, was in their hands finally. But it did them no good. Worse, they now had a connection between the woman and the Midlothians. Santiago had been right when he said all they had were even more questions now than before Ash was shot. Unfortunately, it was a connection they couldn’t explore as long as Moreau remained non-responsive.

  “Ash, look at me.” Santiago waited until she did. “You aren’t going to be released to desk duty for some time. But that doesn’t mean you can’t use your mind. I plan to put you to work, starting right now. Here’s an image of Moreau. Do you recognize her?”

  Ashlyn looked at the image displayed on his datapad. To the best of her recollection, she’d never crossed paths with the woman. Still, there was something about her eyes, something familiar. She couldn’t place it. Nor did she mention it, for fear it was nothing more than an artifact of the drugs she had been on.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  Before she could say anything else, a single knock sounded at the door. It slid open. Instantly, everyone in the room snapped to attention. Where she lay on the bed, Ash tried to sit up straighter, only to be held down by a firm hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth hissed at her to stay put. That was followed by a direct order from President Harper to do as her mother said.

  “I can’t stay long,” he said as he moved to stand next to the bed. “But I wanted to thank you, Colonel. Your actions saved my life.”

  Ash shook the hand he extended. She had seen the video of the shooting. Even though she didn’t remember more than bits and pieces yet, the video told the tale. Something had warned her. She didn’t know what. But it had been enough. She had reached out and pulled the President back behind a quickly formed wall of armored Marines. A moment later, a split-second really, she’d been struck in the chest. Fortunately, Moreau – if she had been the real would-be assassin – wasn’t a long-distance shooter. If she had been, and if she’d taken a head shot, Ash wouldn’t have survived.