Loyalty to the Cause (TCOTU, Book 4) (This Corner of the Universe)

by Britt Ringel

  To make matters worse for the agent, “Truesworth” was now openly taunting Internal Security, and especially Jennings, in two additional missives Heskan “received.” The latest message divulged that Jennings’ gambit to blanket his agents across the entire planet had been a poor one.

  Brewer’s gnarled fingers pressed hard onto the top of his oak desk as he spoke. “Why would you spread your forces so thin to look in such insignificant areas of Pallene?” The secretary pointed down at Heskan’s datapad in front of him. “This message was sent from the restaurant across the street from the capital building! He is laughing at you, Aaron! With good cause!”

  Jennings seethed but remained silent.

  Brewer’s tone of scathing invective transformed rapidly into that of a caring father. “Garrett, I believe you are correct. This latest correspondence suggests that this madman’s endgame is rapidly approaching. Agent Jennings’ underestimation of this lunatic has allowed him unfettered, and seemingly ethereal, access on the planet’s surface but the man grows tired of taunting us. Soon, he will act.”

  “He never used his datapad, Mr. Secretary… none of them did,” Jennings protested. “We’ve searched and searched. We’ve checked close to a petabyte of security footage with facial recognition software. This man and his accomplices may as well be invisible!” The I.S. field supervisor lamented while raising flustered hands into the air. “I’ve followed standard procedures but nothing has worked.”

  “Your incompetence is directly responsible for our predicament,” Brewer admonished as heat returned to his voice. “Your strict adherence to procedure when what was truly required was inspired thinking has pushed us to the brink of disaster.” Cold, almost alien eyes narrowed at Jennings as Brewer menaced, “What if this man accomplishes his objectives? How many good citizens will die because of your failures? How will you explain to the General Council your allowance for this amateur to operate with impunity?” Brewer shook his head in disgust before adding with a touch of concern, “And I will not be with you, Agent Jennings. I will be explaining to Madam Fane why I granted an obviously incompetent agent operational control over the matter.”

  Jennings opened his mouth, thought better of his response and closed it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Brewer glared wordlessly at him. After an excruciating period of silence, Jennings finally said, “I haven’t failed yet. Truesworth hasn’t moved against us or the Hollarans thus far.”

  Heskan could not resist the opportunity to throw grease onto the fire. “By the grace of God…”

  Hands morphed into fists and daggers flew from Jennings’ eyes as the security agent shot to his feet.

  “SIT… down,” Brewer commanded. “Garrett’s analysis is accurate. My skillful manipulation has, temporarily, stayed this maniac’s hand. The fact that Garrett has dangled possible cooperation with his scheme is the only reason that you, Mr. Jennings, still have the tiniest bit of slack in the noose around your neck. But Garrett is right; this man is growing suspicious and he will soon tire of playing games in favor of a more direct approach.” Brewer regarded Heskan and asked, “What kind of approach is the question.”

  Heskan took his eyes from the clenching muscles in Jennings’ jaw and gazed at the elder statesman. “Mr. Secretary, it’s obvious that Truesworth intends to strike a blow not only to the Hollarans but the Republic itself.” Heskan’s raffish smile bespoke great confidence. “I know this man. He lacks finesse. Look at the prisoners’ escape from Kite. It was simple and straightforward. In fact, if Agent Jennings had not pulled his agents from Kite, this all would have been prevented.”

  “We needed those agents to collect the Hollarans after Phoenix self-destructed,” Jennings objected.

  Heskan ignored the man. “Jack Truesworth will move forward in the simplest way possible. If his targets are both the Hollarans and our government, and I’m quite certain that they are, then his most likely field of battle is right here.” Heskan pointed straight down at the desktop for added emphasis.

  “The orbital,” Brewer confirmed. “I agree. How else could he take revenge on the Hollarans? But what of his hatred for our Republic? The Anthe Council is on the surface…”

  Heskan tamped down the brilliance of his smile as he delivered his next line with a heady concern. “But there is someone who is far more important to the Republic than the Council, Mr. Secretary. A new council could be appointed in a matter of hours but Truesworth could not strike a more devastating blow to the Republic if this single man were assassinated.”

  Brewer’s eyes widened. “Of course.” He reached for the controls on his desktop and said, “Joseph, double the guard to my office immediately and recall Secretary Neal from Pallene.” After severing the connection, Brewer gazed at Jennings. “You will augment the security detail tasked with screening passengers onto Envoy-Three, immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jennings popped up from his chair, shot a lethal look at Heskan and exited the office.

  After the door closed, Brewer rocked back in his chair and praised, “You’re gifted with a tactician’s eye, Garrett. You have the special ability to look at several pieces of a puzzle and see how they fit together.”

  Heskan dipped a shoulder humbly. “Thank you, Mr. Secretary. I don’t know about gifted but I have watched you and maybe learned a couple things.”

  Brewer smiled, possibly genuinely, and replied, “Garrett, you were made for this line of work. Now, we must ensure that this band of renegades is stopped before they reach the orbital.”

  “Agreed, sir.” Heskan furrowed his eyebrows with deep concern. “But I believe we need to think bigger. To date, Truesworth has frustrated us at every turn. I’m worried that if we underestimate him again, he’ll turn up inside the Hollaran cells somehow and execute them before we know it. The man certainly has had no trouble eluding Jennings for the last two and a half weeks.” Heskan lowered his voice to a whisper. “What if we moved the Hollarans to a secret location?”

  Brewer wiped his brow with a silken handkerchief before shaking his head. “That’s impossible, for now. The transport ship is not scheduled to arrive for another four days and neither the orbital nor Envoy-Three has the capacity to securely hold that many prisoners outside of the orbital’s confinement facility. Even then, we’ve packed the Hollies in like freight.”

  “I am not thinking permanently, sir. Only if we discover that Truesworth is moving against us,” Heskan offered. “If we get some notice that Truesworth is implementing his plan, wouldn’t moving his targets to a secret location make it impossible for him to succeed?”

  Heskan resisted the urge to shiver as Brewer’s reptilian eyes coldly regarded him. “Where would we hold them?” Brewer asked. “What do you have in mind?”

  Heskan leaned away from the secretary and centered himself on his seat. He inhaled slowly as if considering the question and finally answered, “I don’t know, Mr. Secretary.” Heskan paused briefly and then allowed his eyes to widen in enlightenment. “Like freight! Sir, you’re a genius! Why not move them down to the commercial deck and stow them in a cargo container? They’d be completely confined, we would only need a couple guards…”

  Brewer laughed aloud. The sound came out halfway between a bark and a cough. “Garrett, that is brilliant.” Heskan watched as Brewer’s mind played over different scenarios. Finally, the secretary said, “Word of this failsafe cannot go beyond this room. If this plan were leaked and Truesworth were to get wind of it, our prizes would be in great jeopardy.” Brewer nodded to himself as if validating his internal debate. “You will arrange this personally, Garrett, and we will only implement this if we have sufficient warning. Our priority remains eliminating the traitors before they even step foot on the orbital.”

  “Indeed, sir,” Heskan agreed. He pursed his lips and looked pensively aside.

  “What now?” Brewer asked.

  Heskan shook his head and smiled dismissively. “Nothing, sir. Just a bad thought… What if Truesworth attacked the orbit
al from outside?”

  Those dark, evil eyes squinted at Heskan again. “You need to be more clear, Garrett.”

  “Just, sir,” Heskan fidgeted, “what if he tried to commandeer a ship with weapons and started firing on the orbital.”

  “Sixteen men cannot take over a military vessel, Garrett, and how would they even board one?” Brewer snorted and added, “These are not your Parasites. You’re beginning to overthink this.”

  Heskan knew he had pushed enough and relented. “Of course you’re right, sir. I’m just trying my hardest to think of all the angles.”

  Brewer eyed Heskan with a slight askance and warned, “I’ve given you a great deal of latitude, Garrett, but don’t mistake that as license to espouse half-baked opinions.”

  * * *

  Heskan exited the docking tube connecting Envoy-3 to the orbital. He noted that twice as many sentries were stationed in the docking bay as there were when he had entered. Once around the corner from the white armor-clad guards, he shuddered with relief and headed directly for the orbital hotel room he had been occupying for the last ten days.

  It had been an excruciating couple of weeks and the tension seemed to increase by an order of magnitude with each passing hour. Heskan had been immensely disappointed, and worried, when he received no word from Vernay the night before. Even though last evening was the earliest she could have possibly arrived back in Anthe, the lack of contact was unnerving. When combined with the unsettling encounters with Brewer and the nonstop scrutiny by Agent Jennings, Heskan’s health had taken a serious hit. He was taking nearly twice the recommended dosage of a medication designed to relieve intestinal distress and once again was considering increasing the tablets he consumed almost constantly. “It’s in your blood,” Heskan thought, recalling Brewer’s statement. Like hell it is. I wouldn’t survive six months of this cloak and dagger stuff. His thoughts turned darkly toward Jennings. I never should have pushed him so hard in the meeting. Brewer isn’t the only one who can make a person disappear, you know.

  Heskan absentmindedly exited the lift he had been riding and entered the lobby of his hotel. He walked quickly to a second lift and used the voice activation in lieu of the manual controls to send it to his floor. The drone of the machinery was soothing. Where can Stacy be? What if they got caught, or worse? His stomach growled ominously. Relax, Garrett. Stacy is fine. Brewer doesn’t know. Everything is going according to the plan.

  Indeed, Heskan’s portion of the plan had gone almost too smoothly to date. Ensuring that Truesworth was not caught on Pallene when he was not there had taken care of itself and crafting “Truesworth’s” two e-mails in response to Brewer’s initial reply had been simple. However, fostering Brewer’s trust required dancing on a knife’s edge. Heskan believed he was succeeding. For reasons he could not fathom, Brewer had not seen through his pretense. It seemed Brewer almost wanted or even needed to trust him, or perhaps, it was simply the secretary underestimating him. Whatever the apparent cause, it had aided Heskan enormously when the time came to suggest the most audacious part of his plan: moving the Hollarans to a cargo bay. Heskan had two other contingency plans if Brewer did not accept the proposal, but they were inferior to simply placing the Hollarans inside a cargo container capable of transporting live animals and loading it directly onto the freighter Vernay would bring back from Erriapius.

  He approached his suite and sensors reacting to Heskan’s datapad unlocked and opened the door. Heskan strode into the finely furnished room and made a beeline for the bathroom. After several minutes of retching, he walked past his latest acquisition and out of the small lavatory. Heskan kicked off his shoes and moved close to the colossal wall screen in his bedroom. The screen displayed the view of a room thirty floors above a beautiful, oceanside cliff. In the distance, two sailboats were cruising with reefed, white sails under a stiff wind. The orange-red sun, synchronized to the orbital’s current time, was reaching for the azure horizon.

  Abandoning the intoxicating sight, Heskan sat on his bed and sorted his options for a suitable cargo container on the orbital’s commerce and trade pages. After settling on a container type, he composed an e-mail to Kite’s newest acting captain, Lieutenant, junior grade, Daniel Welch. Before he was finished, the simulated sun on the wall screen had vanished and the crimson sky had tinted black. Heskan arched his back to stretch and thought about what lay ahead. A lot of moving parts… so much that can go wrong. Damn, Heskan thought as he checked the time. It’s been nearly twenty-four hours and still no word from Stacy. Still on the bed, he simply fell backward and let exhaustion take him.

  * * *

  His datapad’s chirp jolted Heskan from a restless slumber. Anxiety spiked his blood pressure as he reached toward the end table. It’s going to be Brewer; he’s figured it out. Unwilling to face reality, Heskan tapped “Accept” but remained on his bed with a pillow covering his face. “Yes?” he mumbled through the soft padding.

  A female’s voice carried through the datapad speakers. “Sorry to wake you, Commander, but this is the front desk. You asked to be alerted immediately if you received any messages.”

  “Live or recorded?”

  “It’s just a text message, sir, titled ‘Request for interview.’ We received it three minutes ago. Shall I send it to your datapad?”

  Heskan bolted upright and nearly shouted, “No, I’ll read it from my room’s console.” He shot out of the bed, uttered a “thank you” before closing his connection and raced to the desk in his suite’s office. Once seated, he opened the generic account’s e-mail file. It was the only message in the folder.

  The message simply said, “How about a drink at 3?” That was all it needed to say. Heskan’s eyes darted to the time located on the wall screen; a storm had blown in and waves were crashing against the rocky coast. The time was 01:57. He left the hotel room at 02:01.

  * * *

  Social life inside the Anthe orbital never knew rest. Heskan walked briskly through the crowd on the commercial deck, weaving through the throngs of inebriated tourists, freighter crewmembers, and military personnel on leave. The noise along the congested promenade rivaled the volume typically encountered during the day.

  As Heskan approached The Ruddy Kingfisher, he showed credentials from his datapad to the door attendants to skip the queue. Groans mixed with cries of protest emanated from the outraged crowd but fell upon the deaf ears of the hulking bouncers. Inside, people and music filled the bar to capacity. The throbbing pulse of the beat threatened to burst his eardrums. Well, we picked this spot because it always seemed crowded. Heskan wended his way between groups crowded around tables or huddled in any available free space. He surveyed the crowd starting on the far left and searched the faces of each group, moving methodically to his right. A hand grasped his arm, startling him.

  “Captain, I’m sorry!” Vernay let go of Heskan to raise her hands up. Her giggle was lost to the pounding music but was followed by a shout. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Captain. Over here.”

  “What?” Heskan yelled back.

  Vernay pointed to a corner in the back of the bar. Heskan nodded and the lithe woman turned to take the lead. As Heskan’s eyes followed his former first officer, he noted the fit of her civilian shirt boldly emphasized her femininity. When his eyes subconsciously dropped lower, he quickly chastised himself. Dammit, Garrett, stop that! He looked up and saw two strangers jealously guarding a tiny, high table with two stools. It’s easy to forget she’s a woman when I’m so accustomed to seeing her as just a lieutenant. As they approached the table, he saw Vernay mouth a “thank you” to the couple standing near the sanctuary. The man gave Vernay the thumbs up and screamed back, “Thanks for the free round!” as he toasted in Vernay’s direction with a full mug of beer.

  Vernay swung around the table while Heskan took the second seat. He noted that her mug had a considerable amount of sweat on the outside but its contents appeared completely untouched. He leaned close to Vernay and shouted, “You made
it back.”

  The enthusiasm of the petite blonde’s effervescent smile did not diminish despite the tone of her voice. “Try not to sound so surprised, Captain.” She slid her datapad over the table toward him.

  Heskan saw the profile of a Loggerhead-class freighter. He tapped the image and Hussy’s schematics appeared. After several moments of inspection, Heskan looked up. “Great work, Stacy. We’re a go for tomorrow then.”

  Vernay shook her head. “Today!” she barked over the music. “We have to go today!”

  “What?” Heskan could feel the music vibrating in his chest.

  Vernay looked up in frustration and grabbed Heskan’s hand. She pulled him out of his chair. As they passed by the former guardians of the table, the woman smiled widely at Vernay and shouted, “You two make a great couple.” Vernay towed Heskan toward the exit as the other couple seized the vacated table. The couple exchanged knowing glances and smiles and the man uttered in admiration to his girlfriend, “That woman doesn’t waste any time.”

  Outside of the chaotic bar, Vernay guided Heskan to the front of a closed restaurant across the promenade. “We have to move today, Captain,” she repeated.

  “Why?”

  “I got Ensign May shot when we took Hussy,” Vernay explained with brutal honesty. “Ensign Gables was able to stabilize her but it was a long trip and she needs a doctor badly.”

  “What’s her status?” Heskan asked.

  “Critical. She’s been unconscious for the last three days. Gables can barely keep her hydrated and we have no way of feeding her intravenously.” The depth of genuine emotion washing over Vernay’s face made Heskan realize just how much he missed being around people who did not tell lies for a living. “Captain, I don’t think she’ll make it another day without a doctor.”