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Vengeance from Ashes (Honor and Duty)

Page 3

by Sam Schall


  “Ma’am, I’ve been looking into certain events concerning this individual for months now. I can’t tell you why, not over the com. But I can tell you I was very surprised when I discovered that she was no longer on Tarsus and was, in fact, just a few floors below my office in the security complex.”

  “Then I think it is past time for two old friends to get together,” Tremayne said.

  “Agreed, ma’am. I’d be mighty appreciative if you’d send the invitation through my admin with the time and location.” That way no one would think to look too deeply into why they were meeting. Fortunately, they already had the habit of meeting every month or so for drinks.

  “I’ll do that,” she assured him. “I look forward to our meeting.”

  And so do I, he thought as he ended the call.

  He leaned back and shook his head. The morning had certainly been filled with surprises and that was something he didn’t like. No intelligence officer did. Now he had to find out how Shaw’s transfer had slipped under his radar. Then he needed to get ready for his meeting with Tremayne. It was clearly time for them to compare notes.

  But there was one thing he wanted to do first. He wanted to see Shaw and he wanted to do it without anyone else in the office knowing.

  Well, that was easy enough. Santiago smiled to himself as he entered a code into his desk link that would forward any messages to his personal link. Then he pushed to his feet and crossed to the bookcase against the far wall. It might not be the most original method he could have chosen to hide the secondary exit from his office but it sufficed and no one had asked any questions yet. Of course, they had looked at him more than a bit strangely when he’d had the bookcase installed and when the books had been delivered. He had no doubts some of his staff had never held a real book before. But he was a throwback. He loved the feel of a book in his hands. So, he’d let his passion also be his cover.

  His fingers found the right pressure points to activate the release for the bookcase and it swung silently away from the wall to reveal a narrow door. Next to the door was a security panel coded only to him. He pressed his palm to the panel and then stood still as the scanner activated. Facial and biometric recognitions passed, the inner door opened and he stepped through, pausing only long enough to make sure the bookcase swung shut behind him.

  Every senior intelligence officer in the capital knew about the passages that ran throughout the security complex but he doubted many had used them. Too often the men and women in his position had been put there through family ties and had never seen battle nor run a covert operation. He’d been an exception. For more than fifteen years he’d been one of FleetCom’s best intelligence operatives. Much of that time had been spent behind the lines, gathering intelligence to help win the war. For the last seven years, he’d trained the next generation of intelligence officers, making sure they learned from his experience. For the last year, he’d been FleetCom’s senior intelligence officer in the capital and had been doing his best to make up for all the mistakes his predecessors had made.

  Three floors down, he paused before another door and waited. The video pickup indicated the corridor beyond was clear. Satisfied, he entered the code that unlocked the door and he stepped out, closing it before anyone appeared. A quick look over his shoulder and a slight smile touched his lips. If someone didn’t know where to look, they would never know a door was there.

  “Major, we didn’t receive word you’d be coming down,” the corporal in charge of the current watch said as Santiago rounded the corner, surprising him and the two privates manning desks near him.

  Monitors along the wall showed a dozen cells, only one of which was occupied. As Santiago watched, the prisoner continued to move from one exercise to another, each one progressively more difficult. The Marine in him approved and so did the intelligence officer. Shaw was not only keeping herself in shape but it wouldn’t surprise him one bit to find out she was using the exercises to keep her guards from guessing she was planning something. At least that’s what he’d do and he had taught her.

  “I need to see the prisoner, Corporal.”

  “Sir, we haven’t received authorization–“

  “Shall I contact Senator Tremayne and Admiral Collins for you?” His tone bit and his eyes were hard as he reached for his comm-link.

  “N-no, sir.” The corporal swallowed hard. Then he nodded to one of the privates. “Escort the major–“

  “That won’t be necessary.” Santiago waited until realization dawned on them. As an intelligence officer, he had every right to be there and he was also one of the very few people who would be able to activate and deactivate the security field for the prisoner’s cell.

  The corporal nodded and entered the security code to let the major through the door into the cell block. As the door slid shut behind him, Santiago allowed himself a slight smile. There were some benefits to having the reputation of not suffering fools kindly. Of course, the three would soon learn first-hand that reputation had been well earned. The fact they had simply taken him at his word and hadn’t contacted either Tremayne or Collins meant they’d soon be standing before their CO explaining why they’d violated procedure.

  A few moments later, Santiago stood before the door to Shaw’s cell. She was executing a set of perfectly executed fingertip pushups. He waited, wondering if she’d acknowledge his presence. When she didn’t, instead moving on to sit-ups, he nodded in approval. She’d maintained the discipline he’d come to expect of her when she was a young officer fresh out of the Academy. In fact, she’d honed it until it was not only her weapon but her armor as well.

  Even as a part of him regretted the fact she’d had to do it, another part approved. Of course, if it kept her from listening to him and trusting that he had her best interests at heart, they’d all be up the proverbial creek.

  Without a word, he deactivated the security field and stepped inside. The first indication Shaw gave that she was even aware of his presence was a startled glance in his direction when he didn’t reactivate the field. Then the mask was back in place and she went back to her sit-ups.

  He waited until she finished her set before speaking.

  “All right, Ash, you’ve put up a good front, just as I taught you. But you can drop it now. Believe me when I say the guards are watching a video loop of you exercising and me standing outside the cell watching.” He waited, wondering how much time would pass before she responded.

  Ashlyn Shaw slowly stood and then dropped onto the edge of her bunk. Her eyes were wary, her mouth tight. Santiago felt his own mouth harden as he saw the scar marring her left cheek and another bisecting her right eyebrow. It was no wonder Tremayne had called him.

  “What do you want, Major?” Shaw’s voice seemed harsher than he remembered, almost as if she’d been screaming for a long while and had strained it.

  “I just had an interesting call from Miranda Tremayne. No, she didn’t tell me what you talked about and I didn’t ask. But she did ask me to look into what has been happening on Tarsus for the last two years. Since I was already doing so, I told her I thought it was time she and I shared information. But now I want – no, I need – to ask you some questions.”

  “Sorry, Major. I’ll tell you exactly what I told her. Until I know that my people are safely away from Tarsus and have received full pardons, I’m not talking. If you can’t accept that, then you might as well just send me back.”

  Santiago drew a breath, held it for a long moment and then blew it out. Her response didn’t surprise him but it did frustrate him. There were too many possible reasons for her reluctance to talk and none of them were good. So he had to find a way break her silence, at least enough to give him a clue about where to start looking for answers.

  “Kid, I know something’s going on. Anyone taking a look at you would. But I need to know what it is so I can put an end to it.” He’d always been honest with her and he wasn’t going to stop now. “I need you to listen to me, Ash. I’ve known you for a
long time. I helped train you, make you into the Marine you are–” Now he held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. “You are a Marine now and forever, kid. Don’t forget that. Don’t you ever forget that. It’s in your blood. But that’s not what I want to talk about.

  “I’ve reviewed your reports from before your court martial. I’ve seen your correspondence with Admiral Tremayne, Rear Admiral Sorkowski and Major O’Brien. I’ve also seen the original copy of your orders. I know you did your best to keep your people from being caught in the backlash caused by those orders. I’ve also found how Sorkowski had the orders altered after the fact and how O’Brien knew and didn’t say anything. I know they did it to cover their sorry asses. I know and can prove they were responsible for the loss of most of your unit as well as the civilian deaths that were the result of your orders as well as enemy reprisals. I can also prove that you not only warned Sorkowski and O’Brien about what could happen but that you also officially objected to your orders as being unlawful – not to mention stupid – and how you forwarded copies of your objections to Admiral Tremayne and others. Finally, I can show how those messages were delayed or miscoded so they wouldn’t be admissible at your trial. In other words, Captain, I can prove you were set up.”

  Shaw’s head snapped up, anger flashing in her eyes. Santiago nodded slightly. He understood. She’d sworn over and over again that the copy of the orders that had been introduced at her court martial hadn’t been the orders she’d received. Now there was proof of that and more.

  “Then why in hell haven’t my people been brought back here and cleared?” Her hands gripped the edge of her bunk so tightly her knuckles shone white.

  “I just found the information last night, Ash, and I have to make sure I can prove its validity.” God, didn’t she know how badly he wanted to do exactly what she asked? He wanted to clear all of them. Their convictions were a black eye to the Corps and to the military as a whole. He’d like nothing better than to be able to correct the miscarriage of justice. “That’s why I need you to talk to me.”

  He hoped thought she might actually relax enough to answer his questions. Instead, she shook her head, her expression closing again.

  “Major, whether you want to admit it or not, you already have what you need. If you need more, check my personal files. If the admiral – sorry, senator – doesn’t have them, my parents will. But that’s all I will say, at least until my people are freed.”

  “I’m doing my best, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d help me.” He took a step forward, stopping when she shook her head. “Ash, please.”

  For a moment it looked like she might change her mind. Then she pushed off her bunk and moved as far away from him as she could. When she looked at him, the anger reflected on her expression rocked him.

  “You want to know what’s happening at Tarsus, Major?” Her words were clipped, her voice harsh. “Take a look at the prison records. Compare the stats for the current leadership there to earlier administrations. How many people are sentenced there and how many actually manage to survive their sentences? Of those who do, how many are still sane?

  “If that’s not enough to answer your questions, then look at me. Take a good look, damn it!” She waved a hand at her scarred face. Before he could say anything, she grabbed the left sleeve of her jumpsuit and pulled. The sound of the shoulder seam ripping filled the cell. She dragged the material off her arm and tossed it onto the floor.

  “Look at this, Major. Look at what they did and know it is only a small example of what they’ve done to all of us.”

  Santiago’s stomach churned and bile rose in his throat. The skin of her bicep had been torn away from the underlying muscle and it looked as if it had been left to heal without proper medical treatment. Rough, discolored scar tissue hid the definition of the underlying muscle. Worse, he knew what had been on her arm where now there was only scar tissue. His own right hand reached up to touch his left arm and the Devil Dog tattoo he proudly bore. Every member of the Devil Dogs, past and present, had one. Shaw had as well – at least until someone had so cruelly removed it.

  “Do you want to see more?” she demanded, tears pooling in her eyes. All he could do was shake his head. “Now think about this. Every day I’m here is another day those bastards are figuring out new ways to torment my people. I was warned before I left Tarsus not to say anything. If you’ve lied to me, if there is someone listening in on what I’ve said, my people are dead. If that happen, I promise you’ll die a very slow and painful death.”

  Santiago dragged his hand over his close-cropped hair. He had no doubts she meant every word she said. If her people were hurt because she’d talked to him, she’d find a way to hunt him down and kill him and he wouldn’t blame her. It was exactly what he’d do if their situations had been reversed. Well, he hadn’t lied to her and somehow he’d just have to prove it.

  But that would wait. It had to. He had other things to see to, things like making sure nothing else happened to her or to her people. Then he’d gladly help her avenge all that had been done to her and the others.

  “Ash, I promise, no one else has heard what we’ve said.” He spoke softly, knowing she wouldn’t believe him. “I’ll return when I’ve figured out how to keep you from going back and how to bring your people home.”

  She didn’t say anything. Instead, she returned to her bunk and stretched out, turning her back to him much as she had to Tremayne and Collins earlier.

  Damn it, just how deep was this can of worms going to turn out to be?

  * * *

  Evan Moreau touched the recessed button on the wall near her elbow and an almost inaudible swish sounded as the lock slid into place. At the same time, the lights came on. She blinked once even as she quickly scanned the room. Something was wrong. The sequence should have been lights and then lock. She ought to know. She’d programmed it that way the day she moved into the apartment. Damn it, she was getting sloppy!

  As her eyes sought out the intruder, a knife dropped into the palm of her right hand. Security in most buildings in the capital was such that it would pick up any sort of weapon but she’d learned long ago that certain alloys could pass undetected through the security fields. This knife was made of one of those alloys and it had served her well over the years. Hopefully, it would do so again.

  Senses alert, knees bent slightly, she waited. There! The faint sound of a breath. Her eyes cut to the far corner of the room where shadows still hung heavily. The intruder, whoever he was, wasn’t as smart as he thought. The fact he’d killed the light there and nowhere else in the room betrayed him. Well, he’d soon find out just how foolish it was to try to ambush her on home ground.

  “Relax, Moreau.”

  Abel Kannedy stepped out of the shadows. Hands away from his body, fingers splayed to show he wasn’t holding anything, he waited. For a moment, Moreau simply stood there, anger darkening her expression. He, of all people, should know how foolish invading her home could be. He’d seen what happened to those who crossed her. Hell, he’d hired her often enough to deal with his own enemies to know better than to try to surprise her. The fact that he’d taken this tact to meet with her meant trouble.

  But for whom and would she have to kill him before the night was over?

  With a smile she really didn’t feel, Moreau slid the knife back into its quick release sheath on her forearm and moved past him to the bar. She needed a drink. In fact, she needed a drink very badly. Not that she would allow herself more than one until she knew exactly why he was there.

  Then she’d have to consider changing her place of residence. She never should have let him know where she lived. That was a weakness, a potentially fatal one, and no one in her line of business could afford such things, not if they expected to live for long.

  “I’m assuming there’s a good reason for you to have risked life and limb by coming without warning.” She tossed back a shot of whiskey before pouring Kannady a brandy. It was better not to let hi
m know how badly his presence had shaken her.

  “There is.”

  “And?” She handed him a brandy and motioned for him to be seated on the sofa. That put his back to the door and hers to the wall, a much better position for her if trouble arose.

  “Tremayne and her lot have pulled a fast one.” He spoke softly. There was nothing in his voice or on his expression to betray his thoughts. But his hands told the story. His left hand held the crystal brandy snifter so tightly it was a wonder the snifter hadn’t shattered. The fingers of his right hand clinched into a fist that beat not so lightly against that thigh.

  “We’ve known since the election that it’s only been a matter of time before someone in the new administration did something that could upset our plans.” She shrugged with a nonchalance she didn’t feel and leaned back. “What’s happened?”

  Now that she was over the immediate shock of finding Kannady, she could think. She needed to put him at ease and find out why he’d risked both their lives by coming to her. Then she could figure out what her next move should be. She’d regret it if the time had come to move on but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d left one life to start another. Giving up an identity, even one she enjoyed, was a small enough price to pay to stay alive.

  For a moment, Kannady remained silent. Moreau waited, knowing he’d tell her what happened in his own time. As she waited, she searched her memory, trying to recall if there was anything she’d heard during the day that might be of concern. But there was nothing. So what had Tremayne done, or what did he think she had done, to cause him to risk so much?

  “Several things happened today that caught myself and our colleagues off-guard.”

  Kannady stood and moved to the bar, pouring himself another drink without asking. Moreau frowned but remained silent. His actions were so much in character that they didn’t surprise her. Wealthy and powerful, at least in his own mind, Kannady was one of those who did what he wanted, when he wanted and then hired people to clean up the mess. That was probably why he was there now. He’d made another mess and wanted her to make it disappear.

 

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