"How much do you know, Excellency?"
"These people are professionals, Commander. We kept the man sedated so he wouldn't kill himself before we could interrogate him but as soon as we began to arouse him for questioning he poisoned himself and died within a few minutes."
"How did he manage to kill himself in spite of all your precautions?"
"As I said, Commander, these men are professionals. An autopsy revealed that he had an implant that he could trigger somehow. The man must have been extremely disciplined, he was able to trigger that implant in spite of still being heavily drugged."
"What do you wish to do?" asked Kresge.
"For the time being, we would like to move Faiza and Amanda over to the Greyhound. The fanaticism of these people knows no boundaries and we fear for the safety of the two young women. With the two of them on the Greyhound, there will be at least one less distraction for us. Naturally, we will transfer Dr. Carlisle over as well."
"You are releasing her from her diplomatic duties, then?"
The Ambassador smiled, "She hasn't been operating in that capacity since the attack on the Istanbul back at the Nexus, Commander. Lieutenant Harvick is an excellent liaison and really all we need. We need the Ensign's undivided attention on these new plans, now more than ever. It would be nice if she could still spend a little of her time interacting with the two girls though. She is an excellent role model and the three of them seem to work well together. Their unique wrist computer communication capabilities have proven to be particularly valuable on more than one occasion."
"I'll see that it is arranged," replied Kresge. "What about your infiltration problem?"
"With the two girls safely off from the Istanbul, we can get to work in earnest. I will keep you apprised of our progress."
***
As the meeting broke up, Seamus O'Connell went over to talk to Carlisle.
"Tamara? Could I have a word?"
"I guess so," replied Carlisle, her expression noncommittal. The two of them went to the very front part of the now nearly empty hold. Kresge had left to have a private discussion with the Ambassador and Harris was talking about crew arrangements with Murdock and Hawkins but the rest of the personnel had filed out and were on their way to get started on their various assignments. The two Spacers, father and daughter, faced each other.
"Before we part ways and I go out on this expedition, I have a proposition for you, Tamara," said O'Connell, quietly enough so that only she could hear him. His daughter eyed him warily.
"Okay, I'll listen but I'll tell you right now that I don't think you'll be able to change my mind."
"Hear me out."
"Fine. Go ahead."
"I want to ask you to come back out to the Donegal when you finish your stint in the Navy. I'm not getting any younger and I won't be able to keep this up for very many more years. The Donegal is paid for and you could just step into my shoes and make a decent and honest living."
"I don’t' know, Father..."
"You're the best pilot I've ever trained, Tamara. Way better than I am and I'm a damned sight better than most!"
"What about Collin? I can't believe that he isn't interested."
"Collin? Your brother is too young and I don't know if he'll ever have the patience."
"But he does want to do it?"
"I haven't asked him."
"Why not?"
O'Connell looked embarrassed. "We had a pretty bad fight about a year ago and we haven't spoken much since then."
"I see, something like the row you and I had before I left for the Naval Academy? I think I'm sensing a pattern here."
"I don't think it’s the same at all," said O'Connell. "He's reckless and irresponsible, you were never like that. At your worst you may have been a little too eager, but you've always been able to calculate the odds and take the right action."
"Where is he now?"
"He's working at the Piedmont Station. Last I heard he wasn't doing too bad. He's the foreman of his shift."
"Well there you have it, Father. Collin is your man. Give him some more time to grow up a bit more, away from your...influence and I'll bet he'll surprise you."
"You always have been a stubborn one, Tamara."
"I wonder where I got that from?"
"I can see that this is going nowhere. I need to get going. Think about it, Tamara. I'll be talking to you again."
"Okay. Father...?" she paused for a moment before continuing, "...be careful out there."
O'Connell gave her a lopsided smile and they embraced briefly before he left her alone in the front of the compartment. Carlisle watched him as he strode through the hold and through the hatch into the main corridor and shook her head. She headed for the exit herself.
"Ensign Carlisle?" said Kresge, "Frank Talbot wanted to talk to you if you have a little time."
"Certainly, Commander. Where is he?"
"He said he'd be in the starboard stateroom."
Chapter 23.
UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 4, 2599.
Tamara Carlisle rapped softly on the door to one of the staterooms that Helen Murdock's cargo ship, Greyhound, was outfitted with.
"Ah, Ensign Carlisle," said Talbot as he opened the door.
"You wanted to see me, Sir?" said Carlisle.
"Yes, yes of course." He motioned her inside. "Do come in. Please, have a seat."
She came in and accepted the pro-offered chair, one of two that faced each other across a small, round table. The chairs and the table were all permanently welded to the deck.
"Would you like some coffee? I just grabbed one of the carafes from the briefing room. It's absolutely fresh."
"Thank you, Sir. Some coffee would be nice," replied Carlisle.
Talbot poured the beverage into two chipped, ivory-colored mugs, each of which had a blue line-drawing depicting a stylized Greyhound in full stride adorning the side. The Ensign accepted a mug with a mumbled thanks and Talbot, the other mug in hand, sat down across from her in the other chair. He blew gently across the top of the hot coffee before taking an experimental sip.
"Ah...perfect!" He looked directly at the young woman over the top of his mug, with the index and middle fingers of his right hand looped through the handle and his left hand cupping the other side of the mug. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Ensign," said Talbot. "I thought I'd better talk to you before things get really hectic again."
"That’s not a problem, Sir. I'm surprised that you have any interest in me."
Talbot took another sip and set his mug down on the small table between them.
"That's part of why I wanted to talk to you."
"I'm not sure I understand, Sir."
Talbot thought carefully for a moment, deciding just how to lead the conversation. Finally he said, "You underestimate your abilities by several orders of magnitude, young lady."
Her head drew back.
"You flatter me, Dr. Talbot, but I'm not sure that I can agree with you."
"You don't have to agree, your academic record and your accomplishments during the entire duration of this mission pretty much speak for themselves. This last bit with the battleship projectors and the idea of taking the fight to the Sheik are just the most recent of those accomplishments."
Carlisle reddened slightly and looked like she was about to disagree but instead she simply said, "I'm not sure what to say...thank you, Frank."
Talbot continued, "One of my professors used to have a saying: 'Of those who are gifted, more is expected.' It used to infuriate me until I finally realized he was correct. Here's another of his sayings, though I must warn you that it's far from being politically correct: 'If you are of average intelligence, then half the people you meet are dumber than you are.'"
Carlisle gave him a look. Talbot continued, "And if you're in the upper one percent of the entire human race, as you are young lady, then you're smarter than almost everyone you come in contact with!"
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The ensign shook her head and said, "I've done okay, but I think you overestimate my abilities. I had a lot of trouble getting through the academy. This mission is my last chance to prove myself."
"Did you know that you're one of the highest-ranked students to graduate from the Academy in the last five years?"
"Um...No, Sir, I didn't know that."
"You're also an instinctive tactical genius, were you aware of that?"
"Where are you going with this, Dr. Talbot?"
He wore a very serious look as he continued.
"What I'm saying is that you have that rare combination of extremely high intelligence and superb tactical instincts that enable you to almost instantly analyze difficult tactical situations and come up with solutions, 'Instinct and intellect,' my old professor would have said. If you'd only done it once, that would be one thing. You, on the other hand, seem to be able to do it almost at will!"
"Thank you, Sir, but..."
Talbot interrupted her. "Haven't you figured this out yet, girl?" he said, shaking his head.
"What do you mean?"
"The Brass has got you jumping through hoops and causing all sorts of negative issues with your self-image and your self-confidence. Well, just don't you believe one bit of it! The Federation Navy needs you and other officers just like you badly. Very badly!"
"I'm not sure I understand," said Carlisle, her look perplexed.
"I'll spell it out for you. The Navy always needs some officers who can operate 'outside the box.' Don't get me wrong, they also need people who do play by the book and follow the rules. The problem is, in war and especially in the heat of battle, the book is way too often inadequate for the situation. Especially when it comes to dealing with these terrorists, traditional methods can only take you so far."
"I guess I hadn't thought of it that way before. I...don't know what to say."
"You mustn't get cocky but if you just continue to do your best, and stop second guessing yourself, you'll be more than fine. Trust your instincts, girl, from what I've seen they've been dead on most of the time!"
Talbot thought he detected the light of understanding in her eyes.
"You also need to do a few things just for yourself, Ensign. I know that the current pace of events hasn't left time for any of us to do much recreating but you know the old saying "all work and no play?" Well it's true. Think of some things that you really want to do, just for you, and find a way to do them!"
"Maybe when things slow down a little, I could find some time," said Carlilse.
"I apologize if this little pep talk caught you off guard, Ensign. Admiral Loftgren at the academy is a personal friend of mine. He asked me to enlighten you about a few things if I had the opportunity. Strictly off the record, you understand."
"Thanks...I guess?"
Talbot smiled at her. "Would you like a warm up?"
"Yes, that would be nice."
The lecture over, the two of them chatted about Carlisle's current research project with the logs from the Veritian derelict while they each finished another mug of coffee. She thanked the old engineer before she left.
"Thanks, Frank, I'll think about what you said," as she departed.
"Good luck with those logs from the derelict," said Talbot.
Chapter 24.
UTFN Reclamation Center, on board Meridian Imperial Diplomatic Ship Istanbul, January 3, 2599.
As soon as he got back from the planning session on the Greyhound, Ambassador Saladin held an emergency meeting with Captain Nassar of the Istanbul and Commander Hussein, the head of his personal security detail. The meeting took place in Nassar's briefing room right near the bridge of the Istanbul.
"We need to determine who else on board our ship belongs to the group responsible for this assassination attempt," said the Ambassador.
"I would take a hard look at the 'Sheik of New Cairo,'" said Hussein.
"The man we put in the brig after the attack on the Ambassador at the Santana Nexus?" asked Nassar.
"The same."
"I agree," responded the Ambassador, "he would seem to be the most logical person to begin with." "Hussein? Can you bring up the security video for the time frame when the diplomats were coming on board for our summit meeting back at the Santana Nexus?"
"Certainly, Excellency," replied Hussein. The security chief spent a few moments retrieving the requested files. "Ah, here they are." Nassar's viewscreen switched to a video display that showed a string of diplomats coming on board the Istanbul through the ship's main airlock before being processed through a security checkpoint. Hussein ran the video on fast forward for a few seconds before slowing the feed to normal speed.
"There," said the Ambassador, "that man, right there. That is the Sheik of New Cairo."
Hussein froze the video.
"How many men does he have attending him?" asked Nassar.
"It appears as though he has three attendants," said the Ambassador.
"That man...there! That man is the one who attacked Sondia and wounded Shawndra," said Hussein. "The others are...they are deliberately hiding their faces, Excellency!"
"If we know that the man who just attacked Sondia is one of those three, then there could easily be at least two more of this false Sheik's agents onboard the Istanbul," said the Ambassador. "The attack on me and the attack on the Santana Nexus were perfectly timed to sow chaos. Because of the special circumstances, some of our normal security protocols had been bypassed. After the enemy ships opened fire, and in the confusion following our escape, it was impossible to keep order. When we got here to the Scrapyard, staff members for the various diplomats were assigned quarters. Do you suppose these two men claimed affiliation with someone legitimate and are currently hiding in plain sight?"
"Audacious and appalling but it would certainly seem possible, Excellency," said Hussein, shaking his head. "How do you wish to go about apprehending them?"
"With the Sheik of New Cairo in our brig, they would not be burdened by having to attend to anyone and, if they exercised a bit of caution, they will have been able to move about on their own, with no one checking up on them"
"It is a pity that we do not know what they look like," said Hussein.
"That is an unfortunate handicap," said the Ambassador, "but it is the hand we have been dealt. Since they do not seem to be associated with any of the other diplomats, they must have infiltrated the civilian crew, just as this dead man had done."
"It seems we need to talk to the Head Chef and the Chief Steward," said Hussein.
"I agree," replied the Ambassador, "but be discreet, Hussein. Make it sound like we need to discuss menus and seating arrangements. We must strive to avoid any type of action that might alarm these agents or any others we don't yet know about. Remember the attack on me back at the Nexus was attempted by members of the Aswan Haboob!"
"Ah...Yes," said Hussein, "Aswan Haboob, 'The Black Storm!' We mustn't forget that, even for a second. They are a most formidable foe, Excellency, all of them masters of disguise! Their agents could be anywhere or anyone." He frowned as another, more sinister thought occurred to him. "There could be other agents among the military contingent," he continued, "If we are indeed dealing with Aswan Haboob, then these enemies also represent some of the best infiltrators in the known space!"
"Do you suppose there could have been enemy agents among the crewmembers who were transferred to the Istanbul just before we left Meridian at the start of this mission?" asked Nassar.
"I hadn't thought of that," said the Ambassador. "I was under the impression that everyone had been thoroughly vetted. Nassar? Bring up the names of the newest crew members."
"You really think some of them might be infiltrators?" asked the Captain.
"I surely hope not but we simply must look into it," replied the Security Chief, "Of course there is always the chance that someone under deep cover has been in the crew a long time. Such a person would be very difficult to smoke out but we must consider all possi
bilities."
"We have two recent transfers, Excellency," said Nassar. "One of them is a part of the kitchen staff and the other is...this is bad, Excellency."
"What is it?"
"One of our newest crewmembers is a communications tech," said Nassar, "stationed near the bridge and assigned to Stage II communications."
"That's a perfect position for an enemy agent," said the Ambassador, "He would have easy access to communications and therefore the ability to share with the enemy what our plans are. There can be no more Stage II communications until we move that man and examine the records. I am relieved that we insisted that our meeting take place on the Greyhound this morning!"
"What do you suggest we do, Excellency?"
"We must do nothing to alarm either of these agents for now but both of those men must be carefully watched. We must ensure that no sensitive communications go through that technician from this moment on!"
"The Chief Steward and the Head Chef are waiting in your briefing room, Excellency."
"Very good, Nassar. Both of you, accompany me, if you please."
The Ambassador, Hussein and Nassar went into the briefing room and closed the door behind them. The Chief Steward and the Head Chef were chatting amiably about staffing arrangements for the next few days. They seemed unaware that anything was amiss. Both men stood up as the Ambassador entered the room.
"Samman, Jawad, as always, it is good to see you," began the Ambassador. "Please, do be seated."
The Head Chef made to hand over his electronic tablet with the menus for the next several days on it but the Ambassador waved it away.
"We can talk about the menus later. Right now we have to discuss matters of shipboard security."
The two men immediately became more serious.
"The man that attacked Sondia and Shawndra had been hiding among the kitchen staff," said Hussein. On the room's viewscreen, he ran the same clip from the security video that the officers had viewed just a short time earlier that showed Sondia's assailant boarding the ship.
Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus Page 87
