Op File Revenge (Call Sign Warlock Book 1)

by J. Clifton Slater

  Benigna stood in front of the desk while the Colonel tapped reference tabs, scrolled back, read and rolled the brief forward. Finally, he placed the pad in the middle of his desk.

  “These are serious charges, Captain Benigna,” the Colonel warned while tapping the pad with two fingers. “You claim the Medical Division is willfully corrupting data in order to abduct a Marine NCO. One, Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich, who claims to be a Striker. Not only a Striker, but a Team Leader. Your data on those sections was a little light on supporting evidence.”

  “Yes sir, it is thin. I didn’t have time to contact Striker Command. And from your news, I don’t believe they will have time to research any questions,” admitted Benigna.

  “Did you attempt to contact the Striker training facility on planet Uno?” inquired the Colonel.

  “No sir. I didn’t know the Strikers had a training facility on Planet Uno,” Benigna said.

  “Let me make a call,” offered the Colonel as he picked up the pad and handed it back. “In the meantime, fix the section concerning Medical’s claim of top secret. They put a prosthetic device in a Marine and now they want to claim it’s a state secret. I don’t care what they say. If it’s a knee or the whole leg, our Marines fight and get injured. Once a prosthetic device is attached, it belongs to the Marine. And they can seek care at any facility they want. Fix that section to reflect reality. Now, get out of my office.”

  “Yes sir,” Benigna replied as he turned and left.

  He had more research to do on specific regulations. Once found, he’d list them in his brief. With his boss’ approval, he could focus on the case and not on preparing a resume.

  ***

  An hour later, the Colonel marched from his office directly to Benigna’s small desk.

  “Captain Benigna. You’ve just prevented a mutiny,” announced the Colonel to the entire office. “Sometime yesterday, Admiral Folkert took a break from planning the Striker’s part of operation Construction Station. It seems he wanted to speak to one of his favorite Team Leaders. He was informed that Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich was not in the system and somehow had been misplaced. Admiral Folkert is the creator of the Strikers and has several fans among the Galactic Council. He called the training facility and, before going back to planning the biggest military operation since the Great Schism, he issued an eight-word order to all Striker personnel before hanging up. Break things, hurt people, but find Warlock now!”

  “I don’t understand, Colonel,” confessed Benigna. “Why is this such a big deal?”

  “You’ve never served with a Strike Kill Team,” his boss informed Benigna and everyone in the office. “They were formed to take corridors after the Marines suffered so many casualties during the initial phase of shipboard assaults. Imagine your job is to attack down the barrel of a shotgun. That’s the ethos of a Striker and if their Admiral orders them to break things, hurt people, but find Warlock, that’s what they do. On a happy note, I was able to inform them that Marines Corps JAG, Command Station has her covered. We do have her covered, don’t we Captain Benigna?”

  “Not exactly Colonel,” Benigna whispered. “She has an appointment on the medical deck this morning. I had hoped to talk with her afterwards.”

  “Get me a pair of Marines,” the Colonel instructed. “Big ones with orders to find and protect Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich. Now listen up people, the Fleet Marine Force has an operation planned and we are going to give them our full support.”

  Chapter – 17 Reality Check

  Throughout Command Station sections, departments and divisions prepared for the coming operation. From the Navy and Marine Corps Command staffs who aided in the planning and would give big picture advice, to Food Services who distributed snacks to all working levels and readied premade meals. Communications opened additional channels to prevent overloading the network. Every area that could reach across the sector and support the operation to take back Construction Station geared up, planned, and got ready for the long hours to come. Chief among the resources were the remote surgeons on deck seven of the Medical Division.

  Shipboard surgeons could become overwhelmed or they might lack the expertise for specific procedures during the military operation. To give the injured access to specialists, Medical on Command Station staffed the best cutters in the service.

  The surgeons operated in suites remotely connected to mirror-image suites on warships. But, their surgery was performed on projections of the patients. On the linked warships, robotic arms, guided by the remote surgeons, operated on the living Sailors and Marines.

  As a result of the shuffling of personnel, supplies and equipment, Diosa got bumped from the lift three times by critical loads before she caught one to the fifth deck.

  “Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich. I have an appointment with Doctor Everhard,” she explained to the receptionist. This one was bigger than the one on duty yesterday, she thought looking at the muscular Sailor.

  “Of course, Master Sergeant Alberich,” he said pointing towards the curved wall. “Door three. The Doctor is expecting you.”

  Warlock marched to the door and opened it without knocking. She stepped over the threshold to find Livina Everhard frantically flipping pages on a pad.

  “Should I wait outside?” Diosa inquired.

  “No, no. Come in, I’ll just be a second,” replied Livina. “We’re clearing our schedules for the operation.”

  “What operation?” questioned Diosa.

  “The Fleet is moving on Construction Station in about twenty-three hours,” explained Doctor Everhard. “The entire Medical Division is rescheduling to clear time for round the clock operations.”

  “I can come back,” offered Diosa.

  “No, you are a priority,” Livina assured her. “Now, yesterday you claimed I had a dilemma. Can you expound on that terminology, Diosa?”

  Warlock reached up and removed the goggle before speaking.

  “You don’t have my complete file so you know nothing about me,” Diosa explained. “And apparently, you don’t have my medical records or the specifics of my eye surgery.”

  “I have enough to begin,” Livina assured her. “For instance, you claim to be a great warrior. A Striker and beyond that a Striker Team Leader. From what I understand you’ve been telling everyone who will listen about your adventures.”

  “Ma’am, I haven’t talked to anyone about my adventures,” Diosa said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “There is no need to get defensive, Diosa,” Livina said as if calming a child having a tantrum. “Please enlighten me.”

  “My name is Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich. I am a Striker Team Leader and I guarantee you, I’ve seen more combat than almost anyone on Command Station,” announced Diosa. “My call sign is Warlock and I had a psych exam before shipping off from the Striker Training Facility.”

  “My, but that sounds like an exciting life,” Livina commented. “But tell me, if you are a Striker Team Leader, what were you doing at a training facility?”

  “Requalifying, ma’am,” Diosa said keeping her voice even and level. “I was injured on a Constabulary Escort ship and underwent cell therapy on Planet Dos.”

  “If you were on a Constabulary Escort ship, tell me about the Empress’ forces,” Livina inquired.

  “Unfortunately, you are not cleared for that information, Livina,” Diosa informed her. “See ma’am, a dilemma.”

  “Nice deflection, Diosa, but it didn’t answer my question,” insisted Livina. “Let’s chat about something else. Tell me about the treatment for your wounds.”

  “On Orbital Station, surgeons injected me with juvenile cells and replaced my broken thigh and shoulder with an organic mesh and more cells,” Diosa described realizing she was doing a poor job of explaining. “After healing, I reported for Striker training.”

  “Let’s get to your eye surgery,” Livina suggested. “We’ve already covered what you call Striker training.”

 
“After finding the ship busters on the tramp steamer, my gunship got caught outside the Glynis Gavin. I managed to remove a maintenance hatch and get my team and the pilot across,” Diosa gave the doctor the details. “Ions leaked in through a crack in my helmet and destroyed my right eye.”

  Everhard raised her eyebrows and stared at Diosa’s eyes.

  “Despite your vivid tale of dashing adventure, your eyes seem fine,” Livina observed. “Could it be the headaches you’ve been having? Sometimes pain behind the eye can feel like pressure from the eyeball.”

  “Doctor Everhard. As I tell my team, I don’t get headaches, I give them. And my right eye isn’t natural,” Diosa insisted. “It’s a bionic eye.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Livina but there was no conviction in her words. “Tell me, Diosa. Or Warlock if you prefer, did you have a happy childhood?”

  “Doctor Everhard. Livina. Whatever? You don’t know me at all,” Diosa declared as she stood up. “And you aren’t listening or believing anything I am saying. So, I’m leaving.”

  “I’m listening Diosa. You are a Striker. The Navy gave you a bionic eye,” Livina listed. “You’ve been on Constabulary warships. And you want to leave. Unfortunately, we have a lot of work to do. I must insist you stay.”

  From behind her back, Doctor Everhard pulled a tranquilizer pistol. Without hesitation, she fired a dart into Diosa. When the Striker stayed on her feet and staggered towards the door, Livina shot another dart into her back. Warlock’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

  “Definitely a form of schizophrenia,” Livina said loudly. “The patient has withdrawn into a world of fantasy and delusion. Orderlies, please come in. Take Diosa to a padded room. I fear she will be violent when she awakens.”

  The door opened and two Sailors wheeled in a stretcher.

  “We were worried about you, Doctor Everhard,” one commented as they picked Warlock off the floor and placed her on the stretcher. “When you challenged her delusion.”

  Lifting the tranquilizer pistol, Livina blew on the barrel as if clearing smoke from a six shooter. “I had her under control. And, be sure to turn off her Personal Information Device.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied as they wheeled Master Sergeant Alberich out of the room.

  ***

  Doctor Everhard left her office and walked to the lifts. While she waited for an empty car, she questioned her methods. It was obvious, based on the reports she’d received that Master Sergeant Alberich lived in a made-up world of adventure. But, the Marine NCO seemed so sure of herself and Diosa was correct. Livina didn’t have all of the Marine’s records. Shaking off the feelings, the psychiatrist entered an empty car and pressed the button for the eighth level and the Medical Divisions Administration Offices.

  She exited the car and found a Marine sentry at the lift and another at the top of the stairwell. On the admin deck, Sailors, nurses, doctors and technician passed each other without looking around. Their faces buried in handheld pads as they rushed around preparing for the Construction Station mission.

  “Is Admiral Enrico available?” she asked at the reception area.

  “Just a second Doctor,” the Lieutenant requested as he typed. Seconds later, he glanced up and announced. “The Admiral will see you now.”

  Livina walked around the desk and opened the interior door.

  “Doctor Everhard. As you can imagine, I only have a few minutes. What can I do for you?” Enrico inquired. Three new view screens and two pads plus his usual screen crowded the surface of his desk. Almost hidden behind the equipment, the short Admiral had to look around a screen to see her. “I hope your section is staged and ready for the operation.”

  “Mental Health is ready Admiral,” Livina assured him. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’ve committed Master Sergeant Alberich. She’s in a padded cell for her own protection.”

  “You have?” stated the Admiral. For a fleeting second, a look of sheer ecstasy crossed Enrico’s face. Then he caught himself and the look of joy was replaced by a deep frown. “The poor woman. Is she as troubled as I suspected?”

  “It’s difficult to say until I do a physical examination and a complete work up,” Livina informed her boss.

  “No, no! Don’t do a physical,” blurted out Enrico. “What I mean is, you don’t have the time right now. After the operation, I’ll have an Internist do the examination. As long as Master Sergeant Alberich is comfortable and not a danger to herself or others, leave her alone. We, or rather, you can begin treatment after the Construction Station operation.”

  “I’ll proceed as you suggest, Admiral,” Livina replied. “I do have my staff’s schedules to review.”

  “In that case Doctor Everhard, you are dismissed,” Enrico ordered.

  Livina, in her clinical training and practice, had dealt with many forms of mental instabilities. From depression to mania to outright delusional beliefs, she’d found treatments for them. Many required sessions of psychotherapy to teach coping skills. Or as in a case like Master Sergeant Alberich, the schizophrenia required medication.

  The symptoms that all mental health professionals struggled with were personality disorders. Even that field of illness was broken down in two categories. Psychopaths displayed extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior making them easier to diagnose.

  It was identifying the hidden actions of the sociopath where the profession fell short. With their lack of conscience and ego centered motivations, the sociopath’s symptoms lay beneath the surface and out of sight.

  After Admiral Enrico’s inappropriate emotional response to the news of Diosa being committed, Doctor Everhard began to question her own actions. Maybe she should have demanded full medical and service histories on Diosa Alberich. It might have been a mistake to rely on a redacted research paper from Diosa’s Neurologist and the summary report provided by Enrico.

  It troubled her until her PID buzzed. A scheduling issue required her immediate attention. Putting the Admiral out of mind as she typed, Doctor Everhard hurried down the hallway to the lifts.

  ***

  Once Livina left Admiral Enrico’s office he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. With Alberich committed for psychiatric evaluation, he could have her transferred to a facility on Planet Uno. There, with the help of an associate, he would keep her committed and study the human response to a human machine interface. His dream of being a Realm wide scholar and an authority on physical interactions with electronic stimuli was just days away. He didn’t even have to force Alberich to sign the commitment papers. Livina had done it for him.

  In the meanwhile, this bothersome Fleet operation was getting in the way of his destiny.

  ***

  The Orderly at the Mental Health Clinic looked up to see two large Marines crowd through the entrance.

  “We’re searching for Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich,” a Sergeant stated. “We have orders to escort her to the JAG office.”

  For personal reasons and so the patient committed for a mental evaluation didn’t suffer from prejudice or ostracization by other members of their command, the clinic did not acknowledge patients in any way.

  “Let me check my records,” the Sailor lied. He took a few seconds to scroll through a few screens before addressing the Sergeant. “No record of a Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich in my system. Sorry.”

  “Thank you. We’ll check with the wards and medical clinics on level six,” the Marine said as they both about-faced and marched from the clinic.

  “Who was that?” Livina asked from her doorway.

  “A couple of Jarheads looking to take Master Sergeant Alberich to the Judge Advocate General’s office,” the Sailor reported. “I told them we have no record of her.”

  “Good. Let them prosecute her after she’s healthy,” Livina said assuming Diosa was wanted for a crime. “How is the Master Sergeant?”

  “She’s still sleeping off the effects of your tranquilizer darts,” replied the Sailor.

  “I fee
l bad about the overdose, but when a patient goes manic, sometimes there is nothing left to do,” Livina explained.

  ***

  The Marines sent by Captain Benigna weren’t the only ones looking for Master Sergeant Alberich. Special Agent Eiko just didn’t realize it yet.

  While the departments on Command Station prepared for the upcoming assault on Construction Station, Special Agent Eiko was at work. Sitting in a cube deep in the back of the main communications hub, he scanned not messages to and from the fleet, but messages within the Station. Plus, any going out to Planet Uno, the Orbital Station or ships entering the space near Command Station. With techs rushing around opening additional links and clearing vital networks, especially the Remote Surgery connections, Eiko sat quietly in his cube letting his program scan the traffic.

  Subversive or traitorous words or phrases dinged on his screens. He quickly reviewed the chatter or PID messages and either discarded or saved the threads. Because he was busy gathering intelligence, his recruitment assignment lagged behind schedule. To help him track Warlock, he entered her call sign and Diosa Alberich in the search terms.

  He’d been at the task for a couple of hours when the words Warlock and Diosa Alberich popped up on his screen. It seemed JAG had contacted the Striker training facility. After reading the transcript, he saved it and went back to answering dings. She was covered according to the JAG Colonel and that was good enough for Special Agent Eiko.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a tech said as he tapped Eiko on the shoulder. “We need to reboot this station. It’s almost twelve hundred hours. You can go eat and we’ll be done by the time you get back.”

  A glance at his PID showed Eiko had been at the screen for over six hours.

  “What about my work?” he inquired without a hint of what he was doing.

  “All stations automatically run in the background during the reboot,” the tech assured him.

  “Give me a second,” suggested the Special Agent.