EMPIRE: Intervention (EMPIRE SERIES Book 13)
Page 28
“Like Paul Gulliver.”
“Like Paul Gulliver. Exactly. At the same time, no one else in the Stauss organization knows, not even Dieter’s son Bernd.”
“That’s amazing, sir.”
“Yes. You know all about secrets, and keeping them, from your time in the military, Ms. Turley, but that much you need to know. The only other thing you need to know is that we work, exclusively and directly, for the Emperor. We are his personal, private intelligence organization. Any assignment comes directly from the Emperor.”
“Like Julian, sir?”
“Officially, no. Julian was completely Dieter Stauss’s operation. The Emperor, you see, cannot interfere in colony affairs.”
“And the Stauss organization just happened to assign one of your operatives to Julian?”
“That’s my official position, Ms. Turley.”
“I see.”
Turley did see. And given the Empress’s involvement in her own situation, both at the beginning and the end of the operation, the ‘orders’, if you could call them that, probably came through the Empress.
“As for who we are, we are the sixth section of the Imperial Police.”
“There is no sixth section of the Imperial Police, sir.”
“Exactly, Ms. Turley. We appear on no organization charts, we appear on no budget projections, we appear in no internal documents. We do not exist. We are just called Section Six. Outside of the organization itself, only four people know of our existence. And only the Emperor can give us assignments.”
“Why would the Empress know?”
“The organization was her idea, Ms. Turley. Future Consorts of either sex will probably not know. The current Empress is an exceptional person.”
Turley nodded. She could certainly see the utility to the Emperor of having such an organization, to perform tasks that were not possible or workable within the machinery of the official government. And knowing that every assignment came directly from the Emperor was appealing. It pulled at the very heart of her bone-deep loyalty to the Throne.
“Where is our headquarters, sir?”
“Here, Ms. Turley. In VR. There is no other headquarters. The VR address you responded to does not exist. It has already been erased from the system. You will have a contact mail address, and that is it. Orders will come to you from randomly named people, from mail addresses that do not exist.”
“How will I know if they are valid, sir?”
“Any valid communication from Section Six will include the letters D-X-A, as a typo. As if someone fat-fingered the letter ‘D’ on a keyboard. And, if something seems particularly outré, you can use your contact mail address to query the validity. The communications you receive will necessarily be very brief, and aimed at goals rather than methods. You will be given extremely wide latitude to craft solutions and implement them. At the same time, I expect reports to be complete, frequent, and thorough.”
Turley nodded.
“I understand, sir. And training?”
“We do not train our operatives, Ms. Turley. We only recruit people who already know what they need to know. The only thing you really need to know, which you probably already suspect, is that we can do things within the Imperial government that are otherwise impossible, like fake VR identities, inspect bank records, and the like. You probably already know that from the Julian operation.”
“Yes, sir.”
“As for compensation, that will be handled by Stauss Interstellar, through your cover identity. Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well, Ms. Turley. We will likely not meet again. Most new agents do not meet me – and this avatar is a fake one in any case – but your recruitment did not come in through normal channels. Good luck, and welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Conner cut the connection.
President Chapman came out to the spaceport to see them off, and the event drew a crowd. Former President Ann Turley was extremely popular on Julian.
The revelations about the top echelons of the Equality Party had been a shock. There had been very little blowback from Turley’s summary execution of the ten conspirators in the attempted assassination of Chapman. Many of Julian’s citizens had suddenly realized how close they had come to the abyss once more.
Ann Turley had become a hero.
They made their good-byes, and there were lots of hugs and handshakes. Chapman was there, and Gunderson, and Colin Noyce and the four other former judges, Anita Blackwood, Friedrich Baum, Malcolm Barrymore, Tom North, and many others. There were quite a few tears as well, including from Turley.
“I was serious when I said to stay in touch, Ann,” Chapman said. “We all owe you a great deal.”
“Good luck, Mark. To you and to Julian.”
One last hug, and Gulliver and Turley boarded the shuttle up to the freighter ICV Vladimir Sorokin for the trip to Alexa.
It was Liberty Day, the first anniversary of the overthrow of the Mieland regime. It had been named a planetary holiday in perpetuity, lest the people of Julian forget how close they had come to ruin.
Tim Keegan and his wife and kids were having a picnic with Aaron Corcoran and his wife and kids. The former captain of the Julian Free Militia and the former captain of the Julian Secret Police had become unlikely friends. Their wives had also become friends, and their kids, and, only a year after the two men had faced each other in combat, they were as close as brothers.
They had their Liberty Day picnic at the President Ann Turley Dam Recreation Area, known locally simply as Turley Park. The weather was beautiful, with a cool breeze off the lake breaking the heat of the sun.
They lay on the grass and watched the boats on the lake while their kids squealed and splashed on the beach.
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