by Andria Stone
But it hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, and the end was devastating. Maybe after delivering a just sentence, peace would find him.
A soft plasma burst disturbed the silence. Two more. A fourth one.
It was finished.
Kamryn hung her head to say a silent prayer for Colonel Sorayne. Her eyes stung. The lump in her throat made it hard to swallow.
Mark hugged her. She didn’t pull away.
Axel joined them. “Mission’s accomplished. Light it up.”
***
Mark lobbed his last beaker toward the cryopods. A massive blue flame roared up, faded to yellow, orange, and red at the outer edges. It gained enormous strength, spreading around the room in less than ten seconds.
They watched for a moment, then turned in unison to hurry out of the building and into the waiting limo. No one spoke.
During their trip to the spaceport, Kamryn sent a message to London confirming all three were returning, followed by orders for Captain Malone to prepare for departure. Axel sat, arms crossed, staring out the tinted window. Mark kept an eye on him for any signs of mental stress. What he saw was a heavy dose of fatigue wrapped in a layer of acceptance. The same things Mark had experienced after slaying Coulter.
Behind them, a series of explosions echoed in the darkness, each more violent than the last. Axel breathed an audible sigh of relief. Kamryn returned the comm he’d left in London and rested her hand on his knee until the driver pulled up to the MAVREK-II.
Copilot Nguyen welcomed them aboard. “Glad to see everyone made it back. Malone says we’re airborne in twenty seconds, so harness up.” She ran back to her station as they prepared for liftoff, the interior lights dimming to a steel blue.
Mark didn’t want to hang around any longer than necessary, especially after committing arson on foreign soil, but Malone couldn’t have…
Wait.
Mark tapped his comm, “Captain Malone, does your speedy exit have anything to do with someone snooping around our ship?”
“Yessir, it sure does. Two someones, to be exact. Miss Ohashi’s new surveillance system didn’t signal an intrusion. However, we’re not taking any chances. To be on the safe side, we need to take a roundabout route to London, if you get my meaning.”
“I do. As long as we don’t run out of gas, take whatever precautions you feel are necessary.”
Malone chuckled. “Nguyen and I have decided to take a detour down to Cape Town then jink north across the continent while we monitor for anyone tracking us. Stay in your harness unless we say otherwise. I hope none of you ate dinner, you might be in for a wild ride. Also, I suggest you alert the rest of the crew in London to be on the lookout.”
“For what?” Mark asked.
“Bad guys.”
“Kamryn?”
“I heard. I’m on it.”
Axel contacted Nik Roman at TIS, requesting additional security be sent to the London hotel.
The ship gained altitude and accelerated eastward, leaving the Mumbai area behind. Captain Malone executed a tight right turn, angled south, and pushed the ship to full power. They swept over the Arabian Sea, employing evasive tactics to identify any would-be followers.
“Sir, I’ve solicited a little unauthorized assist from a couple of my former Space Command associates,” Nguyen broadcasted. “They analyze traffic patterns over the African Continent. We’ll receive an alert if they pick up something suspicious.”
Mark racked his memory for who might have known they were in India. Less than an hour ago, he’d witnessed Valerie’s admission of conspiring with Colonel Olivia Rushing. He shuddered from flashbacks of the cuffs being snapped on him, then being blindfolded, stunned, and tormented by her. Mark’s money was on Rushing.
Had Valerie communicated with Rushing since arriving on Terra? Could Rushing have contacts in India?
A dreadful thought crept into his mind. General Dimitrios had sent Rushing to replace Sorayne. Did that implicate him?
No. Absolutely not. Mark refused to give it any credence. He pushed the thought away, but it didn’t go far.
Chapter 25
After hours of internal conflict, fueled by strong, brandy-spiked coffee, during which many scenarios had been considered and dismissed for the sake of his people if things went south, Mark Warren had finally made his decision.
He intended to confront Colonel Rushing in the safest place possible: General Dimitrios’s office at TMD Headquarters in Virginia. If he convinced the General that an active duty TMD Colonel was guilty of treason, she’d be arrested, and probably tried in the media long before a military trial ever began. The aftermath would be horrendous. Every media outlet on the planet would crucify the TMD for failing to uncover the treachery within its ranks.
At their first meeting, Mark hadn’t bowed to Rushing’s authority, and in the end, she’d extracted her favorite style of revenge. Had they left Mars, Valerie’s coup might have succeeded. His refusal to leave, however, had unequivocally resulted in Victor Parker’s imprisonment, including hundreds of others. It had cost Valerie Parker her life, and no doubt it would cost Rushing more than he’d ever know. Mark intended to handle this alone, not wanting anyone else drawn into the dangerous position of having to face Rushing with their evidence.
Again, Captain Malone arranged to land at a private spaceport outside London, thereby reducing the likelihood of being followed. The TIS security personnel escorted their three remaining crew members aboard, and Malone was airborne without delay.
On the flight home, Mark prepped Ohashi, from a layman’s point of view, on the intricacies of incorporation: patents, trademarks, and copyrights, including the licensing and sale of proprietary software. He planned on delivering Ohashi to their attorneys before heading to TMD Headquarters.
“Ohashi, can you build a small device that will record continuously?”
“Of course,” Ohashi said. “You mean now?”
Mark nodded. “A thought crossed my mind when we were in India. Do our chips continue to emit a signal if we’re…deceased?”
“Yes. It’s not biologic. It transmits a signal until it’s removed. Or until the signal’s hampered or interrupted, like while you were in the field dampening section near the reactor core of the Mars Space Station.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
When the ship landed in the early morning hours at their home base in Lexington Kentucky, the whole crew celebrated. They filed out, delighted to be on Terra, breathing fresh air, surrounded by a stand of maples adorned in a full spectrum of vivid autumn colors. The rectangular tarmac sat a half mile back from the road, running parallel to the two-story MAVREK Enterprises office building facing the main thoroughfare. A row of eight remodeled condos enclosed the east end. Their property encompassed 50 wooded acres—equivalent to 45 football fields—with no neighbors for twenty miles in either direction; a perfect location for this extraordinary group of people who kept an unpredictable schedule, wore off-world clothing, with not one, but four pale bronze spacecraft.
Eva ran toward her condo, hollering, “I’m taking a long bubble bath and then I’m going to sleep in a big bed for two days!”
Everyone went their separate ways, looking forward to similar pleasures.
Mark pulled Malone aside. “Captain, I need to take Ohashi to our attorneys in Norfolk. While she’s there, I want to hop down to HQ. If you’d rather give this to Nguyen, it’s okay by me.”
“No sir, I’m good. Just need to shower, shave, eat, and grab a fresh uniform. I’ll be ready when you are. Rather fly than hang around here sitting on my ass.” Malone rolled his eyes. “It’ll give Alexis time to pamper herself.”
Mark first sent a message to Dimitrios on his secure channel, requesting a private meeting on the Martian situation, adding that he had solid evidence a TMD officer had committed treason. Since the general had briefings during the morning, he granted Mark an appointment after lunch. Before getting into the shower, Mark set up a meeting with their attor
neys in Norfolk, then notified Ohashi. He finished his personal hygiene routine in record time, checked himself in the mirror, wishing he had time for a haircut; it was nearly long enough for a ponytail. He looked more the part of a bohemian artist minus an earring and facial tattoos, about as far from his TMD former self as he could get.
Taking special care to strap on his vest, Mark secured knives in his boots and dressed in gunmetal gray leathers; his last pair without any bullet holes or blade gouges. He substituted black coffee for breakfast, nervous energy prompting him to roam around the interior while he mentally organized his presentation for Dimitrios.
Mark paused in front a spare bedroom-turned-lab for all his new toys. He planned to start a synthetic biology business in the future, experimenting with cellular agriculture.
How long before he’d spend time in there again? His degree hung on the wall gathering dust. He admitted to feeling more like a soldier of fortune than a scientist.
Soon. He’d return to science soon, once he’d neutralized this final Coulter-Parker-Rushing conspiracy. If, in truth, it was the final piece of the puzzle.
***
Mark had left Ohashi in the capable hands of their attorneys an hour ago. For the past sixteen minutes, he’d been sitting in Dimitrios’s stately office, explaining the evidence the general would soon see. Once Mark transferred the vids from his tablet to the screen on the general’s desk, the images sprang to life.
An unhealthy color rose on the general’s face as he viewed the image of Victor Parker identifying his sister as Colonel Sorayne’s murderer. He’d seen it before, but was again overcome with emotion. Dimitrios loosened the close-fitting, upright collar around his fleshy neck, took a deep breath, and queued up the next vid. It showed six TMD armored soldiers arresting Mark for treason, followed by the planted file of the Australian politician with the Bolivian spy, plus the doctored classified advertisement from the Barcelona cathedral. Then the coup de grâce: Valerie identifying two Martian soldiers and Colonel Olivia Rushing of treason.
Dimitrios fired off a message to General Ryan Lance, his counterpart on Mars, with the names of Parker's two collaborators. He turned to address Mark, steepling his fingers together as he arched a brow. “I haven’t been informed of Valerie Parker’s arrest.”
“She wasn’t, sir.” Mark looked Dimitrios straight in the eye, leaving no question as to her fate. “But I assure you, every bit of information we’ve supplied is the unvarnished truth. Have the vids analyzed. Give me a halo interrogation with SP-27. I’ll submit to whatever questioning you think is necessary. I can’t speak for the rest of my team, but feel certain they would, as well.”
The general pounded his meaty fist on the desk; everything quivered. “There’s no way you could have known. However, I received an encrypted message this morning from Colonel Rushing. She claims to have proof you’re the one who has engaged in treasonous activities.”
“I’m not surprised,” Mark replied. “This could be a he-said-she-said stalemate. Or you could test me while Mars is verifying Valerie’s allegations about the two MMC soldiers. At least that will give credence to the other statements.” Mark leaned forward. “Might I ask, sir, how Rushing was selected to replace Sorayne?”
Dimitrios grimaced, shaking his head. “She initially requested the mission. Yet I chose Sorayne, instead.” Dimitrios cupped his head, clearly suffering a measure of guilt for Sorayne’s death. “Afterward, I sent Rushing.”
“When is she expected to return?”
The general glanced at the time on his screen. “Her ships have landed, she’s due to report in ten minutes.”
Mark prepared for a war of words, beginning the moment Rushing entered the general’s office. One tactic he’d used before, which really pissed her off, was to smile as if he had the upper hand, which he did. Her tell was a twitch at the corner of her left eye.
He didn’t have long to wait. The second Rushing crossed the threshold, her spit and polished attitude crashed. Her facial lines deepened, lips pressing together in a thin line, hands balling into fists, a striking contrast to the pristine uniform she wore adorned with several rows of medals aligned on her chest.
Exuding self-confidence, Mark adopted an amused smile as he rose to greet her. “Good morning, Olivia.”
Rushing cast a savage look in his direction, otherwise ignoring him as she came to attention, giving a smart salute to Dimitrios.
“Let’s get right to this, shall we? Both of you have leveled serious charges of treason against the other. Before I decide whether to turn this over to the JAG Corps, I must determine the strength of the evidence,” Dimitrios said. “If you have any, Colonel Rushing, please produce it now.”
Resentment furrowed her brow at the order. In silence, she fished a minuscule drive from her pocket and handed it to him.
Dimitrios viewed the vid, then sat back to cross his arms. “How did you acquire this, Colonel, and from whom?”
“Sir, I received it from an anonymous source while on the Martian Space Station.” Her raspy-voiced reply hung in the air like a cloud of smoke.
“When, exactly?”
“Five days ago.”
“And you had Dr. Warren arrested immediately, yet failed to file an incident report or transmit the data. Why?”
Rushing’s face took on a feral quality. “The information was so damning, sir, I believed it needed to be investigated immediately.”
“At best, I view this as questionable data from an anonymous source against a respected scientist and former TMD officer.” Dimitrios’s color escalated to a ruddy shade as he continued. “Colonel, you should have passed this to Major Essex, since you had already been relieved of duties pending an investigation after being found in the company of mercenaries plotting to overthrow the Martian government.” The general finished on a high note with the veins throbbing on his forehead.
A double ping from the general’s system broke the tension. He held up an index finger, halting the discussion, while his eyes tracked the message on the screen. Mark leaned toward Rushing. He flashed her a toothy smile and whispered, “The truth will set you free, Olivia. But it won’t lessen jail time.”
When the General looked away from the screen, he gave a quick nod to Mark, then gazed squarely at Rushing. “Colonel, kindly place your comm, ID, and weapon on my desk.”
“Like hell, I will,” Rushing snarled. Her left eye twitched just before she lifted her hand.
Mark saw the glint of a barrel. Rushing shot at Mark as he dove to the right. His blood sprayed far across the general’s desk.
She twisted to face the general. Dimitrios spun to the left with incredible speed for a man his size. Rushing shot at him twice. The impact of two red flashes of energy drove him backward against a bookcase, where he dropped to the floor.
Mark sprang at Rushing, channeling the full force of his rage into an ultra-powerful blow to her left temple. He felt the unmistakable crunch of bone.
She never saw it coming. Rushing flew into the air, sailed across the room, and smashed against the far wall with the power of a high-speed train.
Time slowed to a standstill. Mark waited for reality to strike him with the consequences of what just happened. The adrenaline-fueled rage vanished, leaving him woozy, coupled with the realization he was deaf in his left ear.
Soldiers broke open the door. Half a dozen spilled into the office and held guns on him. One called for medics, one attended to the general, one attended to Rushing.
Blood streamed down his gray leathers, soaking into the carpet around his boots. Mark’s vision narrowed to pinpoints as his knees buckled. He collapsed into a chair.
Doctors in blue scrubs hustled in, lifted the two officers onto gurneys, then whisked them away.
That’s when everything faded to black.
***
Mark awoke in a pale green hospital room. The unappetizing scent of industrial cleaning agents floated in the air. He lay stock-still as memories of the scene in Dimitrios�
��s office flooded into his brain. Was the general alive? Was Rushing alive? Mark wasn’t handcuffed to the bed, so maybe he wasn’t under arrest. He’d hit her, though. Had he killed her?
A tight feeling twisted his gut. Shit.
The screen at his bedside beeped. Wireless electrodes on his chest and forehead transmitted his physical data. A jagged yellow line showed an elevated heart rate. Otherwise, he seemed healthy, except for a red line tracking the level of nanites in his system.
He’d been shot! He checked all his important parts, relieved to find they were there. He remembered bleeding, but from where?
The machine beeped again. The yellow line climbed at a sharp forty-five degree angle.
Mark closed his eyes, self-diagnosing his mental lapse as a temporary window of amnesia. Great—amnesia and flashbacks. At this rate, he’d be a prime candidate for an institution in no time. Probably the only inmate with the distinction of having a Ph.D. in Xenobiology.
A dark-skinned, female doctor in her mid-thirties wearing gold scrubs appeared at his bedside. “Dr. Warren, I’m Dr. Yar’Adua. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. You have visitors.”
General Dimitrios walked in wearing a black sling to support his right arm. Axel and Kamryn followed him.
“Warren, they told me you’d be coming around this afternoon, so I stopped by on my way back to the office. I'm sure you must have numerous questions, but Von Radach and Fleming can answer most of them. However, it is my duty to tell you Colonel Olivia Rushing is dead. She was guilty of treason. When ordered to surrender, she attempted to kill both of us, whereupon you defended yourself.” The general bent down to murmur, “You’ve got a wicked right hand, son.” Dimitrios straightened. “As a result, Rushing died from her injuries. All things considered, this was the best possible outcome. The case is now closed. It is also classified. No report of these events will be in the media.” His thick gray brows knitted together as his eyes locked onto Mark. “Ever,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir, acknowledged. I completely understand,” Mark replied. “General, how you are, sir?”
