“Not interested. I’m taking up fishing,” responded Diosa. “I’ve had enough of chasing down bad guys to last a life time. Being a secret agent has no appeal.”
“Have you ever been fishing?” asked the man before answering his own question. “It’s boring and when you do catch a fish, it’s smelly and messy.”
“Goodbye,” instructed Diosa as she brutally stabbed a piece of meat.
“Two things before I go,” insisted the man as he swiped his PID over her device. “If you change your mind contact me.”
“And what’s the other thing,” asked Diosa.
“Don’t sign anything from Admiral Enrico,” he said as he stood. “Just a word to the wise.”
Diosa glanced down to see the name, Eiko. By the time she looked up, he had vanished.
“Save your breath, Agent Eiko,” Warlock mumbled. “This girl is through with being a target.”
After stuffing another morsel of beef in her mouth, she collected her tray and placed it in the cleaning system. Then, she rushed from the mess deck heading for the Marine Corps JAG office.
***
“Captain Benigna. I don’t know what the Admiral wanted me to sign,” confessed Diosa. “But he was insistent to the point of threatening to bring charges against me for not signing it.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t straighten out, Master Sergeant Alberich,” the JAG officer assured her. “As soon as my computer unscrews itself, I’ll request a copy, have a look at it and send you my recommendation.”
“Thank you, sir,” she acknowledged. “I’ll feel much better with a second pair of eyes on the target.”
As soon as Warlock marched out of the JAG office, another Jag officer asked, “What was that about?”
“Nothing special,” Benigna replied. “A retiring Master Sergeant is fighting with Medical. Not surprising, they want her to sign documents and she is refusing. Probably holding out for more of a percentage for her injuries. Odd thing, I can’t access her files.”
“She looked pretty fit from my vantage point,” the officer teased. “What are her injuries?”
“I don’t know. I’m sending for the document now,” Captain Benigna said. “As soon as my computer finishes rebooting.”
Chapter – 16 Sealed Data
The JAG officer hit ‘send’ and his request went to medical records. Three minutes later, he received a call from his Colonel.
“Captain Benigna, please see me in my office,” the head of Marine Corps JAG, Command Station ordered.
“What have you done now?” the other JAG officer asked as Benigna got up from his desk.
“I haven’t the foggiest notion,” the Captain responded as he walked to the Colonel’s office. “But I guess, I’m about to find out.”
Benigna marched into his boss’ office to find creased brows and a scowl on the Colonel’s face.
“It’s too late in the day and I’m too deep in my career to have a Navy Admiral chewing my butt,” the Colonel advised. “You had a walk in who isn’t cooperating with medical. Did she inform you she was under psychiatric care? And that her records are sealed because of a possible breach of Galactic Council security?”
“No, sir, she did not inform me of either,” Benigna confessed. “She simply asked that I review a document.”
“Send her a message and tell her to sign the paperwork,” ordered the Colonel. “Keep it basic and full of legalese, that always confuses the enlisted personnel. And Benigna, do it tonight so you have this off your desk in the morning. And, I can tell Admiral Enrico that we’ve handled it. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Benigna assured his boss.
“Dismissed. And have a good night.”
***
The JAG Captain sat down heavily in his chair and stared at the viewer screen. One quick message and he’d be free for the evening. Another problem solved and a sick Marine could get the help she needed. His fingers hovered over the keyboard but they wouldn’t lower and begin typing. Instead of crafting the message, he reached for the Station phone.
“NCO housing? This is Captain Benigna from the JAG office,” he spoke into the phone. “You have a Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich staying in your quarters?”
“Yes, sir,” the housing Lieutenant replied.
Why would a security risk and a mentally disturbed Marine be allowed to wander the Station? Why wasn’t she confined to the medical deck?
“I’m looking into something and need your help,” Benigna requested. “Where did Master Sergeant Alberich come in from?”
“Just a second, sir,” the Lieutenant responded. A few seconds later, the housing officer came back on the phone. “It’s odd Captain but, other than her room assignment, there’s no originating destination or other information about the Master Sergeant. The fields have been wiped clean.”
“Alright, thank you for your help,” a dejected Benigna said before an idea occurred to him. “Lieutenant. Do you have the name of the Marine who checked her in?”
“Yes sir. As a matter of fact, he’s the Sergeant of the Guard for tonight,” the Lieutenant offered.
“Thank you again,” Benigna said as he hung up the phone.
Her files sealed and her trail being erased. It appeared someone wanted Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich to vanish. The Captain shut down his computer, grabbed his cover and left the JAG office.
***
“Master Sergeant Alberich? Yes sir, I remember her,” the Sergeant responded. “She came in on a medical boat from the Glynis Gavin. I asked her why she didn’t take advantage of the assigned bed on the hospital deck. She said she been in sickbay for six weeks and was tired of hospitals.”
Benigna’s frown elicited a response from the Sergeant.
“Did I do something wrong, Captain?” he asked.
“No, you did fine,” Benigna assured the NCO. Then a thought came to him and he added, “Sergeant. This is an ongoing legal matter. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention our talk or the subject to anyone. At least until this is cleared up.”
“You can count on me,” the NCO assured him as he rendered a hand salute. “Sir, if there’s nothing else, I have rounds.”
“Nothing else, Sergeant. Dismissed,” Benigna ordered. He half-heartedly returned the salute because his mind was onto another idea.
If he sent a request to the JAG office on the Battleship, it would take days to get a reply. And his Colonel would hear about it long before he had any answers.
The Glynis Gavin carried as many Marines, Aviators and Sailors as a small city. As he walked towards the Command Station’s communication center, he began scrolling through his PID. After twelve years as a JAG lawyer for the Galactic Council Marine Corps, he had accumulated a long list of Marines he’d helped. Some of them were bound to be posted on the BattleShip. Still, if any of them knew Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich and her history, it would be pure luck.
***
“I’m sorry Captain. I wish I could help, but I’ve never heard of Master Sergeant Alberich,” the Corporal informed him. It was the ninth call and so far, the Master Sergeant was as big a mystery as when he’d first entered the voice link module. Checking the time, Benigna realized he’d been on the phone for three hours. He was beat and disgusted with himself for wasting an evening.
Looking down at his PID, he saw one more name. Although it was fourth watch on the BattleShip, he had communications connect the voice link.
“This is Captain Benigna from Command Station JAG,” he said with a scratchy throat and a fatalist feeling. “I need to speak with Lieutenant Femke. Yes, I know what time it is. I’ll wait.”
Fifteen minutes later a woman’s voice came on the link, “This is Lieutenant Femke. How may I help you, sir or ma’am?”
“Lieutenant, this is Captain Benigna from JAG,” he stated. “Do you remember me?”
“Captain, every time that Corporal opens his mouth to say something stupid, I remind him, he could be in the brig cleaning toilets and making ti
me with some big dude,” Femke replied. “What can I do for my favorite JAG lawyer, sir.”
“This is a long shot. But, do you know a Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich?” he asked.
“That crazy Striker,” Femke said as she began laughing.
Benigna’s heart sank. After all his efforts, the Master Sergeant was a mental case and should be locked away. At least he tried. Then the Lieutenant got control of her emotions and came back on the line.
“Captain, if Warlock needs anything, you let me know and I’ll take leave to come and help her,” the hard driving Marine combat officer informed him.
“I thought you said she was crazy?” begged Benigna. “Help me out here. Is she insane?”
There was a pause as Lieutenant Femke gathered her thoughts. Then she began a shortened version of a story.
“Warlock dropped into the middle of a hell hole. Pulled three of my fireteams out of an ambush. Then, she and her team fought their way to another fireteam and saved them,” Femke reported. “She located six nuclear weapons and sat on them until my Marines and two of her team members were clear. She and the last two members of her team left the tramp steamer late. She managed to get the wounded pilot, a wounded Striker on board the Glynis Gavin through a maintenance hatch. All the while, the ships were underway and she stood in a stream of Ions. Sir, she held the gunship and the Battleship together with her arms and legs. You asked me if Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich is insane. The answer is yes. But Captain Benigna…”
“Lieutenant?” Benigna inquired after a few seconds of silence.
“She’s your kind of insane, sir. She never gives up,” Femke informed him. “Is there anything I can do for her? For you, sir?”
“No Lieutenant, I have what I need,” Benigna assured her. “Good night and keep your head down.”
“Always Captain, good night, sir,” Femke said before the line went dead.
Benigna leaned his head against the back of the module and exhaled. Master Sergeant Alberich had put herself in danger to save Marines and sacrificed her health to save her team and a pilot. This wasn’t a case of mental instability. There had to be another reason medical wanted her gone? Or did they want something else?
As the JAG officer exited the communication module, he typed on his PID and headed for a coffee shop.
***
Warlock’s legs sprawled across the deck, her spine stretched against the cushions on back of the chair. Her arms tucked comfortably behind her neck. With the goggle in place, she was relaxed and enjoying an action blockbuster video on the screen. Then, her PID buzzed and she paused the movie.
‘Coffee shop near the lifts on level seventy-three. Now! Captain Benigna. ‘
She reread the message as she slipped on her PT shoes and a ball cap. This wasn’t what she expected. The JAG officer must have found something in the Admiral’s document and needed to discuss it in person.
In the empty hallway, she walked to the lift and used her palm print to call a car. As she waited, memories of past missions came to her. Sadly, Warlock realized her days of standing in a hatch under enemy fire directing her team of Strikers were over. Life going forward would be boring. She entered the car and pressed the button for deck seventy-three.
***
“You are a Striker. A Striker Team Leader,” Captain Benigna gushed.
He was sitting at a round table in the back of the coffee shop. A large cup of black go-go juice clutched in his hand. The cup was half empty.
“How many of those have you had, sir?” inquired Diosa as she approached the table.
“Ah, two I think? Why didn’t you tell me you are with Special Forces?” demanded the JAG officer.
“Was, sir. The operational word is ‘was’ a Striker Team Leader,” she replied. “We don’t broadcast the fact but it’s in my records.”
Holding up a hand the Captain waved at the barista. When he got her attention, he held up two fingers. She nodded and soon two more large cups of coffee were delivered to the table.
“Your records are sealed,” Benigna explained once the barista was out of ear shot. “And a lot of your recent travel has been erased. The only thing I know is Medical wants you to disappear. Why?”
“That’s all news to me, sir,” Diosa replied. “I’m taking a medical discharge. As far as I know, I need a medical exam for the paperwork. And medical wants to examine me because of the surgery. As far as vanishing, that’s a mystery.”
“What about the psychiatric care?” he inquired.
“I was ordered to report to Doctor Livina Everhard. I didn’t know she was a shrink until I got to her clinic,” admitted Diosa. “My last psych evaluation was just weeks before my injury.”
“You were injured on your last mission. I heard about it from Lieutenant Femke. She said you were badly hurt,” questioned Benigna. “But you look fine. What was the nature of your injuries?”
Diosa lifted the goggle and blinked at the JAG officer. He leaned in and peered at both eyes. Shaking his head as if there was no difference between them, he rested against the seatback and shrugged.
“I lost an eye and suffered Ion poisoning,” Diosa informed him. “My right eye to be exact.”
“It looks, well natural. I can’t see any difference between them,” he admitted. “Why does the Navy want to examine it?”
“Because it’s bionic, Captain,” Diosa explained.
“Now you do sound crazy,” Benigna admitted. “What did Doctor Everhard say about your claim to have a bionic eye?”
“We didn’t finish the session,” Diosa answered. “I sense you don’t believe me?”
“You sense me with the eye?” Benigna asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“No, sir. It doesn’t take sensors to tell when someone mocks you,” Diosa responded.
She glanced around as if searching for something.
“What are you looking for?” inquired Benigna.
“Some way to prove I can observe stimuli that is out of your range,” Diosa mumbled. “When I think about it, it does sound crazy.”
Warlock waved for the barista to come over.
“Do you have children?” inquired Diosa.
“I have three,” replied the woman.
“Give me their names but lie about one name,” instructed Diosa. When the woman hesitated, Diosa added. “Please, it’s important. Breathe deep and relax then give me the names.”
The barista looked to Benigna and he smiled and nodded his approval.
“Sonny Junior, Peter and Rosemary,” she said.
As the woman spoke, Diosa felt her blood rise and detected a trace amount of ammonia.
“Sonny Junior, isn’t your sons name, is it?” guessed Diosa.
“No ma’am, he’s the Third,” the woman replied. “I have customers.”
“Go and thank you,” Diosa excused the barista. “I knew she was lying by a rise in her blood pressure and the ammonia in her sweat.”
Captain Benigna looked as if he would begin applauding for a magic show, rather than, show appreciation for a display of sensor capabilities.
“I’ve seen mentalists perform,” he said. “You are good but I know the tricks.”
“Stand up Captain so the overhead light is behind you,” directed Warlock. “Now turn slightly to your right and pull the sleeve of your blouse tight against your arm.”
Warlock focused on the material and the flesh underneath. Thirty seconds later she smiled and motioned for the JAG officer to sit down.
“You have a scar on the side of your bicep,” she reported. “And an eagle, globe and anchor on your shoulder. Nice tattoo, I might add. Looks like work from the Hydroxyl Station.”
“I was a young Lieutenant on my first posting with the fleet,” confessed Benigna. “So, you can see through fabric?”
“And I can pick up sound waves beyond normal hearing, smell exhaled carbon dioxide and ammonia in sweat, as well as build images from scattered light,” explained Diosa. “Oh, and the bionic eye can see co
lors. But, it’s not worth a darn in low light.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” suggested Benigna. “But you are a walking medical and science experiment. If I was part of, or the head of a medical division, I’d want to keep you close for further studies.”
“I can understand that. But I’ll be a civilian soon,” Diosa reminded him. “A few more days is all medical has to poke, prod and test me. Then, I’m out of here.”
“Unless,” Benigna began but trailed off into thought.
He jumped up and headed for the exit.
“Where are you going, sir?” asked Diosa
“Most likely to commit career suicide,” Captain Benigna said as he left the coffee shop and marched to the lifts.
***
The JAG Colonel arrived at his office early. Last night, the word came through channels to all division heads. In twenty-four hours, the Navy Fleet, two Marine Divisions and almost the entire Striker compliment would launch an assault. The operation, if successful, would take back Construction Station from forces of the Empress’ Royal Constabulary. Every department on Command Station would go on full alert during the operation.
His Marine lawyers and their Navy counterparts would be available twenty-four hours a day to assist the JAG officers assigned to the Fleet and the Divisions. No call would be ignored or question go unanswered. He had a lot on his mind when he pushed through the door.
“Good morning, Colonel,” a voice greeted him unexpectedly. “A minute of your time?”
“Captain Benigna. We’ve received a warning alert,” the Colonel informed the JAG officer. “I’m a little pressed for time.”
“It won’t take but a few minutes, sir,” Benigna promised holding out a pad. “I’ve prepared a brief for your review.”
“Have you been here all night?” the senior officer asked as he took the pad and walked towards his office. “Come. If I have questions I don’t want to have to yell for you.”
“Yes, sir. And thank you,” Benigna responded as he followed his boss into the private office.
“This concerns Master Sergeant Alberich,” he announced as he read. “I thought we settled this? Don’t answer, I’m reading.”
Op File Revenge (Call Sign Warlock Book 1) Page 15
