by Chris Hechtl
Jethro frowned as the woman laid off for the moment. He had a breather, and he needed to recover and do something with it. He thought hard.
“No, that would have taken all the fun out of it,” the female assassin said. “And he wouldn't have had the time to appreciate it,” she said wickedly, dark eyes gleaming. “I'm savoring every moment,” she said with a grin as she licked her lips.
Bast helped him. She moved his head, then painted an arrow on his HUD. He couldn't see, but he could see the HUD through blinding white. She directed him to look out the view port window. He realized her intent at once and acted on it before the bitch killed him. He turned on the window, anchored himself.
The assassins looked up warily as the robots came alive. “What the hell?” one snarled. “Look out!” he said as a robotic arm swung his way. He ducked in time, but the AI had only used it as a distraction. The robotic arm nearest the outer hatch door had already come alive, and its plasma torch had heated up to a bright blinding white. She swung the arm away much like a round house punch then back with full force. The robotic arm slammed into the window, blowing it out with its super-heated cutting torch and a ton of force.
Jethro felt the rush of air and an impact as things flew towards the breach. He managed to stay alive, doing his best to wrap his injured arms and legs around the leg of an anchored drill press. But he knew he was seriously injured, if the vacuum didn't kill him he'd bleed out in seconds. He grunted as a stool hit him but grimly held on for his life.
The male assassins were killed in the explosive decompression, one had been sucked out the window and crushed, another had sucked into it head first and had been decapitated. His body floated off. The Asian female used her whip to try to secure herself, and then climb hand over hand. Jethro reached out and sliced it with his claws. He caught a claw, ripping it out, but the leather and metal parted under his withering strength. She screamed silently, and then slammed into the wall near the port hole. Her body was dragged to it until a massive bench slammed into the porthole blocking it.
Still, most of the air had been evacuated in the breach. Miss Persephone gasped, reaching for her throat to try to breath, panting as her lungs imploded. She struggled, clawing at her throat, seeming to scream, eyes wide. She finally knew what many of her victims had experienced. Her vision clouded as the water in her eyes flash froze. Finally she was still.
Jethro watched her die with hating eyes, fighting the urge to breathe. He felt the cold, felt the fluids in his eyes freeze. He exhaled before the pain got worse, but then closed his mouth, feeling ice crystals form around his nostrils and in his mouth as the cloud instantly froze in front of him. His training took over as did his implants, fighting to keep him alive. You could survive vacuum briefly under the right circumstances. He turned, trying to move by sheer force of will but a terrible weight crushed him down, down down into blackness.
Chapter 31
Jethro's implants and Bast kept him alive. The AI directed his/their implants and his nanites to shut down everything including consciousness to keep his core alive until help could arrive. He woke in the infirmary with Doctor Thornby and a few medics he didn't recognize. He was hoarse, his vocal box and throat badly damaged, but alive. His eyes fluttered, and then he fell asleep once more.
He woke again in a regen tank briefly. A hose and IV were attached to him. He looked around, seeing vague forms on the other side of the glass. He looked at his hands then felt himself drifting once more.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
When he was sufficiently recovered to be transferred out of the critical unit, Jethro was moved to a bed under the wary eyes of a squad of Marines in powered armor. He awoke in a private room, one that stank of antiseptics and cleaning agents.
One of the first things Jethro recognized was Bast's comforting presence. She rubbed his cheeks with her phantom caresses and purred. He tried to calm her, but eventually his own exhaustion and her insistent purring lulled him into a doze again.
Once Jethro was awake and at least semi-coherent, his room was invaded by no nonsense people he barely recognized. Most were officers he realized hazily. The interview was conducted by NCIS, Naval Intelligence, the Veraxin Sheriff Trask, and a representative of the Pyrax Justice department. They already had his implant recordings since he broadcast them. He had set them to repeat so they were all over the station. The justice department people were a bit put out over his compromising their investigation and potentially contaminating things. Jethro didn't care.
Agent Sekim and Lieutenant Teague led the interview. Questions came from the others, but they only confused him. Jethro checked his IFF and realized the JAG lawyer hanging in the background was Lieutenant Jeremy Lavot, acting G-7 and current Judge Advocate General of the system. The suits behind him were blurry, he didn't recognize them. The buzz of questions continued, but it was hard to stay alert, and he mumbled a lot of the answers. He yawned, hoping they'd get the hint. When that didn't work he feigned sleepy so they left him to sleep.
On the second visit, they came during his lunch. He was alert and ready to get it over with. He knew he'd be in for it; they'd probably insist on three or more follow-up interviews. At least they had sent someone he could tolerate, he nodded to Teague and Agent Sekim. He recognized both. A new being came in as well. The Veraxin JAG lawyer advised him of his rights. He frowned. “Am I...arrest?” he croaked out.
“Absolutely not!” Teague said, shaking her head. “No way, you've been cleared by the highest levels. Clear cut and dried case of self-defense. We've already downloaded your implant recordings plus...others. And the ones you dumped,” she said wryly. Jethro looked at her, ears forward. She rolled her eyes. “Relax kitty, you're off the hook. The powers that be said it. You are golden,” she said eying the lawyer.
“I still have to follow protocol, ma'am,” the ensign said stubbornly.
“Do it somewhere else. You're crowding the patient. You can observe from out here,” the nurse said pointedly. Quietly the lawyer withdrew.
Jethro sighed in relief.
Teague and Agent Sekim both noted the sigh and snorted. “Yeah, I know, but they are a necessary evil,” Agent Sekim said.
“Yeah, true. If they can get their act together. I admit they are getting better,” Teague said. “We do have a job to do. What you say may lead us to other things, things we overlooked. So no detail is too small. Smells, impressions, all of it,” She said.
“Pull up a seat, both of you please,” Jethro said, waving a weak hand. “Hard to talk though,” he said, voice croaking once more. He felt cold in his throat.
“Here,” Irene said, putting a straw next to his muzzle. “Try to text if you have to. We can do more later. But let's get what you can think of now,” she said.
Slowly they drew him out, having him go through the day leading up to the attack. Did he recognize he was being followed, the usual. Finally they seemed done or at least done for now. “So, that's it?” he asked. “What did you find out?” he asked.
“Normally we don't tell a victim about an investigation until it is closed. But...” Irene looked at her partner. Agent Sekim shrugged. “Since you rather neatly killed them, and well...anyway, loose ends,” she said with an uncomfortable shrug.
Jethro flicked his ears. For an intelligence officer to give him information instead of just demanding it...and then never giving anything back in return...that was something for the record books.
“Miss Persephone aka the Reaper,” she used air quotes, which amused the panther greatly. “...Fell for the oldest mental trick, the monologue of a criminal about to win. They really wanted others to understand them sometimes, if only for the brief moment before their victim dies. They never really think the victim will get the upper hand, and she was good. She didn't lower her guard. But she liked them to build hope, to think they might somehow win, and then she'd swoop in like some sort of raven of death to finish the job,” Teague said, shaking her head. “She was a real sicko; a sadistic woman
who wanted to savor the mental as well as the physical torture. We've recovered her recording devices. She was foolish enough to set them up to record the event.”
“I didn't see any,” Jethro croaked in reply. His throat hurt again but only briefly. He felt a cool soothing, either from his implants or Bast's nanites. Irene gave him another sip of water.
The lieutenant shook her head. “They were well hidden. We found the remote on her body. They were outside any sort of network though. We've...well, I shouldn't be telling you this, but we've entered her quarters and secured a vast library of files. Sicko is actually putting it pretty mildly.”
Jethro closed his eyes. He could well imagine what was in them. He nodded.
“Why Hrriss?” he managed to get out.
“We are fairly certain he wasn't involved. I believe,” she shot Agent Sekim a look. He just looked back at her. “I still believe he was bait. Bait and someone they knew you'd have to protect, thus exposing yourself.”
Jethro nodded. He hated it, hated himself for not saving his friend. But he'd known instinctively that Hrriss was on his own, and known instinctively what the Lieutenant had said was true then. He'd come to accept the death, but he didn't like it.
“Your therapist... Ensign Chelsi...” She shook her head again. “We're still looking into her. I'm not certain how she got assigned your case or how much she was involved. Obviously, she was dirty; but how much...” She shrugged.
“She told them about the neck pinch,” Jethro croaked.
“Don't talk, text,” the intel officer urged. He texted her the same message. She frowned thoughtfully, one finger tapping her lower lip. “Maybe...” she said and then nodded. “That's a link anyway. I'll try to see if she was recruited or...” she shrugged.
He texted to her that to him it didn't matter; she was dead. She frowned. “True,” she said, cocking her head. “But we may uncover something, another link to someone else. It's all part of the investigation. We have to pick them and their lives apart right down to their birth.” She looked at her partner, but he merely rolled his eyes.
Jethro snorted and then sighed. His eyes fluttered again. It was hard to stay awake. He felt his attention drift.
“We'll let you rest,” Lieutenant Teague said, patting his cloth-covered foot. “Get well soon, Gunny,” she said.
He nodded and heard her and the others quietly withdraw. He tried to let his mind drift, to relax. After a while he dozed.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
The command staff met at their weekly meeting. It was pretty much a given that they would meet early, since the entire system was in an uproar. Throwing in an attack on the senior Marine noncom in the system and the betrayal of several military personnel in that attack meant they obviously had a lot to discuss. Major Pendeckle was supposed to be included but he was absent, on the outer edge of the system cleaning things up again.
“Why didn't they just shoot him? You know just walk up and shoot him? Gas him? Or poisoned him like they did Enrique? Stuck it in his food? A server could have poisoned him...”
“They did try. With a trank gun though. And for some reason they let him know it was coming. Sloppy,” Lieutenant Lavot said.
Horatio frowned. “I know, it doesn't make sense. They wanted him alive for some reason. Something about a warning to others. And we don't know who these people are. They made it obvious there are others though.”
“Other people we need to be on the lookout for. Great.”
“Hey, at least we know they are out there now,” Matilda said. “I didn't,” she growled, shooting a glare at Monty.
He spread his hands apart. “You didn't have a need to know. The more people we told...”
“And quite frankly, he didn't trust you. Any of us. He doesn't trust his own mother with a secret,” Horatio said eying the intelligence officer.
Monty nodded. “The more people who know a secret the more chances of it coming out...or becoming a problem.”
“Yes, but if say, you keep everything to yourself and something happens to that brain of yours...” Doctor Thornby said acidly, eying him.
He nodded. “Which is a problem, yes I know doctor. And yes, keeping everything in written form is also a problem; it is vulnerable to interception or destruction. But finding people to trust is...tricky.”
“Yes, we did trust a few people we shouldn't have,” Matilda said, shaking her head. She looked at Thornby. “What I want to know, what a lot of us probably want to know is how they got around the bots in their implants. Shouldn't something have flagged them for treason?”
“Or during their initial security check you mean?” Monty asked, intercepting the question as Nara Thornby opened her mouth. He waved a hand. “I've got this,” he said, leaning forward. “It's simple in a way, no matter how hard you try to hold onto something the more others find a way to break it. And there are ways around the locks. I too thought they were prefect. We've been finding out differently over the past several years.”
“I see.”
“It all comes down to trust,” Monty said.
“Well, trust and timing. I'm wondering about their recruiting. Did they go in as spies and assassins, or were they recruited later? That would explain why they passed the initial tests.”
“But not the ethics,” Thornby mused, taking a sip of coffee. She set the cup down after a moment. “But anyone can be corrupted over time.”
“Time or action. Tech Miller for one. We've looked into his records. He was demoted on Firefly after the Gunny accidentally found out he had been skimping on his maintenance duties. Apparently he held a grudge,” Decius said. He looked at the Intel officer. “A record check found that this morning.”
“I see,” Monty said. He cocked his head.
“But, I'm going to bet you knew that,” Matilda accused. Monty shrugged but didn't respond. “Quit playing the super spy. It's getting annoying.”
“There isn't much on the others. They were definitely cleaning up loose ends. Baker...we've gotten some word that he had a considerable debt to the casino. We're looking into that. Ensign Chelsi...” He frowned thoughtfully and then shrugged under Thornby's gaze. “I think you know.”
The others looked at her. She frowned accessing the files. When she did her eyes widened. “She had a few patients that died.”
“Yes. Suicide, but a few from natural causes as well. The current theory was that she was an assassin right in plain sight. One who specialized in poisons, since they are non-confrontational and the most common weapon of a woman.”
Matilda sniffed. He shrugged. “What did surprise me was her exposure. I'm not certain if she was a loose end or not. The deaths in her past lend some support to the theory that she was a member of the guild. But we may never know for certain.”
“What also surprised me was the exposure. All at once? Why? They could have killed them later. One at a time.”
“Miller mentioned his terms was that he would be in on the kill,” Lavot reminded them.
“True,” Monty admitted. “But that doesn't explain the others.”
“They did screw up though they were sloppy obviously,” Horatio said. Monty frowned but nodded. “A direct confrontation? Come on, you and I know better,” the Captain said. Monty nodded. Horatio nodded back. “How is the Gunny doing?” Horatio asked, looking at the Doctor as he changed the topic slightly.
“He's stable and healing. We pulled him out of the regen tank since it wasn't doing him any good. His...I can't get into details, but his unique metabolism and classified implants are dealing with the damage.”
“That's good to know. We need his kind. His grit. He's a doer, someone who gets it done. A natural noncom,” Decius said.
“True,” the Doctor replied with a nod. She picked up her coffee and took another sip.
“Do we know what we're going to do with him? He can't be under guard forever,” the Centillian said. “It is a waste of manpower and resources,” he said.
“Protecting an as
set,” the Doctor rebuked, eyes flashing in annoyance. She set her cup down but cradled it with her hands, seemingly drinking in the warmth. “He is still of much use to us, to the Navy and to the Federation. Besides, we owe him,” she pointed out.
“I know that. But how long will he tolerate the guards?” Decius asked.
“As long as they are needed.”
“And if it is for life? I do not know much of this...League of shadows or whatever they call themselves, but will they stop? Ever?”
“We'll make him a moving target,” Horatio said. “We'll transfer him out of the system but hold off on the orders until the last minute. We'll put a classified tag on his file and location, and encrypt his orders.”
“That doesn't mean another Quisling won't pass it on,” Ensign Barry warned.
“No, but I'm going to assume you can put a tag on his files and track anyone who does access them, any unauthorized or even authorized access,” Horatio said. The AI nodded.
“We could also use him as bait. Draw them in and then clean out entire cells,” Monty suggested.
The room grew quiet for a long moment. Matilda turned surprised and dismayed eyes on the intelligence officer. Lavot looked thoughtful. “It could work,” Lavot said. “It'd be tricky; entrapment if any were caught. But it could be done.”
“Anyone assaulting Federation military personnel is government jurisdiction,” Monty said. “And I'm betting we can twist some of the terrorism statutes since they are some sort of underground criminal organization.”
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Lavot said. “We don't have anyone in custody yet.”
“Just planning for the future,” Monty said. Lavot eyed him for a moment and then slowly nodded.
“Fair enough,” Horatio said. “But the plan to keep him moving still stands. As the Doctor said, we do owe him that much.”
