Renegade Patriot

by Oscar Andrews

  He left the room, intending to make a quick and discreet departure. He had taken no more than three steps down the corridor when Brad arrived, walking straight toward him with a friendly smile.

  “Hey Neffy, it’s just your shadow. Where do you think you’re headed off to?”

  Not knowing what to say, Neffy cleverly improvised by telling the truth. The exact truth, though in a sarcastic voice. “Well Brad, what do you think? I’m escaping from lockdown to go back to New Atlantia, complete my mission and clear my name. Want to tag along?”

  Neffy had no idea what to expect in response. In fact, he had no idea why he had just admitted what he was up to in the first place. It was just a moment of insanity, a roll of the dice. His heartrate shot up, and it was all he could do to keep from hyperventilating. If Trent woke up, or if Brad decided not to play along, then he was in even more trouble than before. And why would Brad ever play along?

  “I seem to remember that a certain Captain Klingerman has an important hearing to attend not very long from now.”

  “Is this hearing as important as prototype technology that could potentially open a black hole in the middle of the New Atlantian solar system? On the surface of the planet actually?”

  Brad seemed to be thinking about it, but Neffy expected to have to fight him. He shifted his weight a little, as discreetly as possible, hoping the highly-trained agent wouldn’t notice. If Brad said no, he would go for the sucker punch and run the other way. Not much of a plan, but the best he could do under the circumstances.

  Brad grinned very broadly, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “You know what, Neffy? Now that I think of it, I was never ordered to keep you from going anywhere. I was told to follow you around and to be your babysitter. So yeah, I’m coming.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Moving through the carport while avoiding holocams was not exactly easy, but it was well within the skill-set Neffy and Brad had both been trained for. They were even able to talk about their situation while they did it, dodging from one car to another and occasionally ducking behind an obstacle to plot their route.

  Neffy wanted to know a thing or two. “Why were you in that corridor anyway? Don’t tell me it was a coincidence. Was Trent really having you watch me that closely?”

  Brad glanced both ways, picked an angle where no holocam would see them, and set off with confidence from one source of cover to another. “No, not exactly. The truth is, I was a bit worried.”

  Neffy scoffed, “Worried? That I might do what? Tase Trent from behind and run out?”

  Of course, that was exactly what he had been thinking of doing, but he didn’t do it. Letting your boss gorge himself to sleep was nowhere near as wrong as actually tasing him from ambush.

  “You mean you didn’t? You’ll have to tell me how you got out of there sometime. But no, I wasn’t worried about Trent at all.”

  “There’s not much to tell. Trent gets sleepy when he eats too much. And a little wine doesn’t hurt.”

  Brad raised one eyebrow as if impressed, probably by the fact that Trent had been sharing a meal with Neffy. He may not have realized how close the two of them were. “A student trick then.”

  “You might say so. But if you weren’t worried about Trent, then what were you worried about?”

  “I was worried about you. Trent goes a little too far sometimes.”

  “Trent goes too far? What do you mean exactly?”

  “He goes too far. Do you really want all the details?”

  “Just what are we talking about here, Brad? Interrogations?”

  Brad shrugged. “I’m talking about a lot of things. Peter Trent has a lot of power, and he uses that power how he sees fit. Making sure he gets to question certain people the way he thinks they should be questioned…a lot of things. Sometimes he goes too far and people get hurt.” He stopped himself talking. “I’ve said too much,” he muttered.

  Neffy lapsed into horrified silence. He thought he knew Trent as well as anyone, but this was a hint of something much darker than he had even glimpsed. They made the rest of the journey across the carport without a word, which did make avoiding the holocams a little bit easier.

  Brad looked both ways again as if to check for an ambush, then stopped at exactly the sort of matte black car you would expect a highly trained covert agent to drive. “This is me, Neffy. You’re the co-pilot. Nobody drives my baby but me.”

  “Not a problem,” said Neffy, “It’s smarter anyway. The authorities might be looking for my face before long, but they’ll pay more attention to the pilot than the co-pilot.”

  Brad laughed. “Yeah, I guess. You’d better learn to live with it now though, Neffy. You’re an outlaw.”

  “If I’m an outlaw, you’re an outlaw too.”

  Brad started the vehicle. “Not at all. I’m just enjoying my love of childish pranks. By the way, you’d better strap in now.”

  As the car took off, Neffy checked for the last known coordinates of the Aegelweard and the Troy, intending to hail the latter when they dropped out of hyperspace and got into range. Everything depended on speed now and he didn’t intend to waste a moment if he could help it.

  As the car climbed up into high orbit, it occurred to Neffy that Brad was a talented pilot. Smooth to the point of being slick, just like his personality. It was good to have such a competent person by your side – if you could trust him.

  And that was the question, wasn’t it? Could he trust him? The smooth piloting skills and the slick personality were not encouraging in that regard. They implied competence, yes – but pick-up artists and politicians had that same kind of slickness. Who was Brad really?

  Neffy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “So, uh…let me ask you something.”

  Brad was looking at one of the holoscreens, but he smiled easily. “Sure.”

  “Why exactly did you decide to help me? You’re disobeying orders here. Trent’s orders. You could get yourself in a lot of trouble.”

  Brad laughed as if Neffy had just said something a little ridiculous. “You’re the one disobeying orders. I’m just following you, as instructed.”

  “Come on. Trent really didn’t tell you to keep me from leaving?”

  Brad held up his right hand as if swearing an oath in court. “Not that I recall, your honor.”

  Neffy laughed as well. But then he thought of something. “You’re the one driving the car, Brad. Hell, this is your car! How can you say you’re following me if I’m just along for the ride in your own personal vehicle?”

  “You’re technically the co-pilot,” Brad pointed out, “although I can’t say you’re helping much. But I can always tell them you held a gun on me. Don’t worry Neffy, I’ll think of something if I ever need to.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Neffy shook his head in silence, marveling at Brad’s easy friendliness. He had always assumed Trent’s special ops people would be cold and humorless. Guys who would answer every attempt at levity with a frigid “Sir?” and a raised eyebrow. Brad wasn’t like that at all, though. In fact, he didn’t seem to worry about much of anything. Was it easygoing good humor or sociopathic charm?

  Neffy found Brad likeable and impossible to trust for the exact same reasons. If he was ever going to figure out how to take the man, he would need to know more.

  He decided to start with an innocent question, the kind of thing people normally ask each other. “So, how long have you been working for Trent?”

  Brad made an adjustment to one of the settings on the holoscreen in front of him while he thought about it. “Well, let’s see. I went through the standard basic training course in Vienna about ten years ago. That’s when they picked me for this other program under Col. Trent. Experimental special ops school in Thailand. Nice incentive program.”

  “Experimental special ops school, huh? Sounds fancy. What kind of skills did you pick up there? Infiltration? Espionage?”

  Brad grinned but didn’t say anythin
g.

  Neffy kept pushing. “Peace Keeping? Crypto-security? Cyber-defense? Assassination?”

  Brad’s smile was a little tight now. “Well, that got dark quickly.”

  “Deflection?”

  Brad threw his hands up in mock surrender. “You know as well as I do that I can’t say anything about what I learned in my special ops training. It’s all top-secret. Highly classified.”

  “Surely not for a fellow disciple of Col. Trent. We work for the same man, Brad.”

  “I’m not sure we do. You’re an outlaw, Neffy. Remember?”

  “As far as I’m concerned I’m a Federation Peacekeeper on an assigned mission. I just had to, uh, be a little flexible with the mission protocols.”

  “Flexible enough to get a warrant issued! Not that I’m judging. But why do you want to know about my special ops background anyway?”

  “Maybe working for Trent has made me paranoid, but I feel like there’s something here I’m just not getting.”

  Could it have something to do with his past somehow? Something to do with all the experiments? “Did you ever take a class with a Dr. Cole? The cognitive researcher?”

  Brad’s easy demeanor was showing signs of strain. He started rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand as if something was making him uncomfortable. Neffy wished Ally was there to read Brad’s cues, but he recognized the telltale signs of slight anxiety.

  “You know, I do remember reading some papers on cognitive research by a Dr. Jones, but I was never in his class. Not my area of focus. Nothing by Dr. Cole anyway. I shouldn’t be talking about any of this!”

  “Alright. I wouldn’t want to get you in any more trouble than I’ve already gotten you in. If you don’t need me to do any piloting I’m going to catch some sleep.”

  Brad looked relieved. “Yeah, sure. I’ll wake you up when we drop out of hyperspace.”

  Before turning in, Neffy sent off an e-DNA message to Fred asking him to find out whatever he could. There’s more than one way to brew macca, as the saying goes.

  +++

  Diane’s face on the holoscreen looked mildly confused, as if she wasn’t certain why anyone would be calling her. The room behind her looked clean and spartan, a few pieces of functional furniture tastefully arranged. The place looked like it had been put together by some minimalist self-help guru. Or an AI designed by a minimalist self-help guru. Fred instantly drew the connection with Neffy’s own tendency toward aloofness. His mother Diane must not have been the warm and affectionate type.

  He cleared his throat, awkward as always in social interactions. “Mrs. Klingerman? This is Fred.”

  “Mrs. Kling...? Oh, yes. Neffy’s friend. Hello, my dear.”

  Her “dear” sounded fake and wouldn’t have made much sense anyway given their minimal previous interaction. It wasn’t the most sincere way of maintaining the social graces. She must feel as awkward as he did.

  Diane seemed to be waiting for him to say something. “Can I do something for you, Fred?”

  “I found out something about Brad.”

  Diane frowned. “Brad?”

  “The man Col. Trent assigned to Neffy. He claims to have Academy training, but…he doesn’t. No student matching his name or vital records ever went there. In fact, there’s no record of him at all before about two years ago. Law enforcement databases show nothing. As far as the system is concerned, he barely exists.”

  Diane’s frown deepened. “I am quite sure Col. Trent wouldn’t lie to us. So this man isn’t who he says he is? That is concerning, but there has to be a reasonable explanation. Were you able to find out anything about him at all?”

  “Only by implication. He doesn’t have much of a footprint, but it’s not nothing. The locations I’ve been able to trace him to suggest a military connection. His personal behavior patterns also fit that profile. But there isn’t much. It’s almost as if he’s been erasing his footprints behind him as he goes – or as if someone’s been doing it for him. Wiping his trail clean.”

  Diane, if anything, looked relieved. “There, you see? Some sort of military background, classified for security reasons. In Neffy’s line of work, that isn’t so worrisome.”

  Fred thought he detected something below the surface, something her bland refusal to face the facts couldn’t totally cover up. This woman had devoted her whole life to the Federation, and she trusted the chain of command more than her own common sense. Yet she wasn’t sure. She had never really seen this side of things. Special ops and secret identities…it was clearly too much for her.

  She raised one hand to her head as if she had a headache. “But what does it mean?”

  “It means that Brad may be very dangerous. And worse than that, we can’t be sure who he’s really working for. It may not be the Federation in the first place.”

  Even if she wasn’t the warmest of mothers, Diane’s concern for her son looked real. Her hands worked at the air as if she was trying to grab a hold of something. She slapped the table in front of her in frustration. “We should probably tell Col. Trent!”

  Fred shook his head. “Col. Trent might be in on it.”

  “I can’t believe that, Fred. We need to get this information to Neffy – just in case.”

  “I tried. I sent the intel over to Neffy, but he seems to have turned his locator off so I have no way of knowing if he’s even seen it. I hope he has. I hope it makes him think twice.”

  “What do you mean, Fred? Think twice about what?”

  “You know, Mrs. Klingerman. Doing anything…Neffy-ish.”

  She smiled crookedly at that one, and Fred was surprised too by the thought that she might be holding back tears. Neffy’s recklessness was no recent development, but the risks he took still seemed to frighten her. She was losing her reserve, as if something had scared her enough to break through her armor. “Please call me Diane. But, oh…there’s more. There’s something else you should know. But I don’t know if I should tell you.”

  She bit her lip, and Fred motioned for her to continue. Diane took a deep breath.

  “I had a…visit. From two Federation agents, or at least that’s what they said they were.”

  Fred’s heart started beating faster. Federation agents? Just what was Neffy mixed up in this time?

  “What did they say?”

  No answer.

  “What did they say, Diane?”

  “They wanted my help. They asked me to use my influence – as if I had any! They wanted me to encourage Neffy not to…not to meddle.”

  Fred frowned. That didn’t make sense. As a Federation Peacekeeper, Neffy’s whole job was to meddle. To make sure the occasional local conflict didn’t get out of hand.

  “What did they want him not to meddle in?”

  “Things that don’t concern him, that’s what they said. That I should use my influence to get Neffy to stop meddling in things that don’t concern him. That I should ask him as his mother to leave his Federation work behind before it gets him killed. And don’t tell Neffy we had this little talk with you, ma’am. Those were their exact words!”

  She burst out crying, unable to control her emotions any longer. No matter what Neffy thought about her, she was scared for him. She had always trusted the Federation before. She had always known it was for the best. Now nothing made any sense any more. “I don’t even know who these people really are!”

  Fred made an odd gesture with his hand, as if he was trying to pat her on the back through the holoscreen. “It’s okay, Mrs. Kling…Diane. I’m sure Neffy will be alright.”

  “But how can you say that, Fred? How can you be sure?”

  “I can’t really be sure of anything. But I do know this. Neffy is a highly trained Federation Peacekeeper with serious survival skills. And it’s not like he hasn’t been through a lot already. He’s survived some tough situations. He’ll get through this one too.”

  “Thank you, Fred. You’re a good friend to him.”

  She pulled out a tissue from a b
ox on the table and dried her eyes, visibly embarrassed at the emotion she had just displayed. “So what can we do?”

  “I’ll do what I can. I’ll get through to Neffy somehow. But if you don’t know who those agents were, then we might have put ourselves in danger just by having this conversation. From here on out, we’re going to have to act as if we’re under surveillance. Understand?”

  Diane nodded helplessly, knowing there was little she could do to save her son. The tears still glittered in her eyes as Fred ended the call. He felt a sense of relief. Neffy’s mother was not the most comfortable person to have a conversation with.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The face of Commander in Chief Yasin Loiselle stared flatly at Captain Eryn “Xena” O’Shea from the holoscreen in front of her. The red sunlight of New Atlantia made everything in the room look faintly red, which seemed to make the CIC look even more severe. Xena was nervous, and it showed. The CIC was only irritated. Captain O’Shea’s agitated demeanor bothered her. Too much emotion in a leader was a sign of weakness, and it tended to make people hesitant. She had no time for hesitation.

  “I’m going to need you to make this quick, Captain. I have a meeting.”

  O’Shea adopted the same blank expression as Loiselle and gave her report. “Commander, I can’t get any updates from the FFS Troy about their operations at the outpost where the rebels are holed up.”

  “You were expecting updates?”

  “They ought to keep us in the loop! We’ve done everything they asked us to do. I’ve handed over every bit of intel they’ve requested, even when I didn’t see why it was relevant, but they…”

  Loiselle held a hand up to stop her. “No. The Federation is the only reason we’re not at war right now. Don’t disturb them. New Atlantia could still face charges if the rebels are found to have any association with our planetary government.”

  O’Shea started to protest, “At the Academy…”

  “You’re not in school anymore, Captain. They’re not going to reward us for our behavior like good little boys and girls, and they’re not going to clue us in when they don’t need our help. With any luck, the rebels will be found to be traitors to this colony as well as to the Federation and the crisis will be over. Until that happens, we want to keep them at a distance from ourselves as much as possible. Do you understand me?”