Author: C.R. Daems
Date: 2018-08-10 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Military Science Fiction; Fiction; Space; Fantasy; Mystery; Military Fiction
Description: Anna's success as the Eastar NIA station chief has catapulted her into the position of Director of NIA Stations. Anna is uncomfortable with the promotion and bored. She has a master chief secretary, a lieutenant aide-de-camp, and fifteen commanders and their staff to do the work. But she suspects not all of her commanders are happy with their new, very young admiral or are doing their jobs. But she has no way to observe those commanders as their stations reside on distant systems. A personal request from Admiral Webb to look into a friend's missing daughter solves the bored problem and provide
Publisher: Talon Novels

RED ANGEL: BOOK IV

The Red Admiral

By

C. R. Daems

Red Angel: Book IV: The Red Admiral

Copyright © 2018 by C. R. Daems

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from C. R. Daems.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9983251-4-9

ISBN-10: 0-9983251-4-7

Check out all my novels at:

crdaems.com & talonnovels.com

CHAPTER ONE

Star System: Eastar - A New Beginning

CHAPTER TWO

Star System: Eastar - Getting adjusted

CHAPTER THREE

Star System: Eastar - When Is an Anomaly Not an Anomaly

CHAPTER FOUR

Star System: Eastar - Chasing Ghosts

CHAPTER FIVE

Star System: Eastar - A Disturbing Pattern

CHAPTER SIX

Star System: Eastar - Seeking Answers

CHAPTER SEVEN

Star System: Stone Ring – Adopted Sister

CHAPTER EIGHT

Star System: Sudan - Games

CHAPTER NINE

Star System: Zaspa – Old Friends

CHAPTER TEN

Star Systems: Amend – Smooth Sailing

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Star Systems: Oxax – Homecoming

CHAPTER TWELVE

Star System: Undisclosed - Selections

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Star Systems: Fire Rock

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Star System: Oasis – A Reminder

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Star Systems: Westar

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Systems: Shadows Rest

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Star System: Undisclosed - Inside Information

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Star System: Safe Harbor

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Star System: Undisclosed - Excuses

CHAPTER TWENTY

Star System: Truth Star

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Star System: Black Water – Too Much Excitement

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Star System: Holy Star

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Star System: Undisclosed - Choices

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Star System: New Zheng

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Star System: Eastar – Home at Last

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Star System: Eastar – Bread Crumbs

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Star System: Sudan – Insights

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Star System: Undisclosed – Decision Time

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Star System: Eastar – Waiting Results

CHAPTER THIRTY

Star System: Eastar – One in the Hand or Two in the Bush

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Star System: Undisclosed – Job Training

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Star System: Eastar – The Fourth Option

CHAPTER THIRTY- THREE

Star System: Undisclosed – Concerns

CHAPTER THIRTY- FOUR

Star System: Eastar – Repercussions

CHAPTER THIRTY- FIVE

Star System: Eastar – More Repercussions

CHAPTER THIRTY- SIX

Star System: Eastar – More repercussions

CHAPTER THIRTY- SEVEN

Star System: Eastar – More Bread Crumbs

CHAPTER THIRTY- EIGHT

Star System: Undisclosed – Frustration

CHAPTER THIRTY- NINE

Star System: Eastar – Complications

CHAPTER FORTY

Star System: Fire Rock – Default Options

CHAPTER FORTY- ONE

Star System: Fire Rock – Good News, Bad News

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Star System: Eastar – A New Adversary

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Star System: Eastar – The Search Continues

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Star System: Eastar – The Lists

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Star System: Eastar – Reasonable Proof

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Star System: Eastar – Time for Some Action

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Star System: Truth Star – Demolition Act I

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Star System: Black Water – Demolition Act II

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Star System: Undisclosed – Rage

CHAPTER FIFTY

Star System: Holy Star – The Demolition Continues

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Star System: Oxax – A New Complication

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Star System: Shadows Rest – The Den of Thieves

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Star System: Zaspa – The Circle of Truth

UNITED ALLIANCE OF STARS

SPACE MAP

CHAPTER ONE

Star System: Eastar - A New Beginning

I stood staring at the fourteen uniforms hanging in my closet. They had never been worn. They were a gift from my mother and had arrived a few days ago from the tailor. Naval uniforms didn't come off the rack for a fifty-kilogram, one-hundred-sixty-three-centimeter frame. The uniforms looked picture-perfect with all the appropriate ribbons and rank insignia—for a fifty-year-old officer.

"I can't wear these," I whined, feeling like a child staring into her mother's closet—or like someone trying to decide what to wear to a masquerade party. The uniforms were for a woman officer, one with much more experience than I had. I wanted to bang my head against the wall in the hope I was having a nightmare and would wake up. I would look passable in a lieutenant's uniform—or in a stretch as a young lieutenant commander—but these damn uniforms had rear admiral braid and insignia. I'm going to be the focus of everyone's attention, I lamented. Not in admiration or even normal curiosity, but with incomprehensible disbelief or as a bizarre prank while others would inevitably speculate on how I managed to achieve my meteoric rise in rank. I could just imagine the wild theories.

I sighed, staring at the uniforms while trying to decide which would be the least conspicuous. I would have preferred the summer khaki uniform, but it was early spring. I finally settled on the dress blues and donned them reluctantly.

When I exited my room on the second floor, I froze at the stairs, imagining they led to a guillotine where crowds waited to watch and cheer my long-overdue fate. I smiled, deciding that image was a bit over the top…but not by much. Today I would officially begin my new duties as the Director of the Navy Intelligence Agency's (NIA) fifteen stations, my new Eastar station chief was due to arrive, and I had to select an aide-de-camp I wasn't sure I needed or wanted. He'll probably be older and have more time in service than me. I cringed at the thought.

"Daughter, breakfast is getting cold," Alexa said, standing at the bottom of the steps smiling.

"See, Mother, even you think this is funny!" I half shouted. "I feel like it's Halloween and I'm getting ready to go out for trick-or-treat."

"Whether that is true or not, no one laughs at a rear admiral unless they want to wash their career down the proverbial toilet. Come down to breakfast. Your security detail will be here soon."

"Yes, Mother," I said and thumped my way down the stairs with their navy-blue runner and past the many pictures of navy cruisers hanging on the wall to the right of the stairs. Each picture had the name of the cruiser and a brief synopsis of its encounter with pirates, raiders, or enemy cruisers. They represented encounters in which my mother, who was retired Captain Bellona, or I had participated—she as the captain of a war cruiser and me as an NIA agent chasing criminals. The lone exception was a Free Peoples Union (FPU) cruiser on which I had been imprisoned and tortured. Mother had been reluctant to hang it on the wall, but I had insisted. Nightmares had to be faced, not ignored.

When I reached the last stair, Alexa grabbed me in a tight hug, deftly avoiding the venomous krait resting somewhere on my person. He had adopted me at age four, and as a result, he’d saved my life. Ours was a symbiotic relationship: he fed off my blood, and in so doing, his poison kept my deadly Coaca Virus in remission. After twenty-six years, he was no longer a snake. He was a beloved companion I had long ago named Red.

"It's going to be a…horrible day," I continued to whine. "New people, new responsibilities, people speculating…"

"Do you remember your first day as the Eastar NIA station chief?" Alexa asked.

"Yes." I smiled. "I set off the weapon detector and security thought I was some kind of a teen-aged terrorist wearing a poor disguise."

"As I remember it, that day went well. You've made good friends and have been successful," she said, patting my hand. "I've adopted the philosophy that helped you survive your early days—take one day at a time. I've found it's liberating not trying to guess the future."

I laughed. "Thank you, Mother. I've been future-surfing and dwelling on all the bad things that can happen rather than all the good things that are happening. I've a wonderful mother I love, work I enjoy, good friends, and all the evil people who wanted me dead are either deceased or in prison." I finished my coffee—which was more milk than coffee—just as the doorbell buzzed. I rose, feeling like weights had been lifted from my shoulders. Alexa had not only saved me from a nightmare life by adopting me but provided a sanctuary that kept me sane.

When I opened the door, Colonel Pannell stood appraising me. He was tall, around one hundred eighty-six centimeters. He had a muscular build with no excessive fat, although he was now well into his forties, and his clean-shaven, angular face was beginning to show lines of age. His brown hair was cut short—so his ears showed—but remained thick. He nodded.

"It suits you, Admiral Paulus," he said without smiling and quickly added, "and it is well deserved."

"Thank you, Paul. And I'm still Anna. But I'm considering having my hair dyed gray and walking slow with my shoulders bent."

Paul laughed. "That would ruin your pit-bull, bloodhound image," he said, alluding to Vice Admiral Lutrell's description of me after the Raiders project, where I had her investigated as part of our inquiries.

"Okay, let's go see what exciting things await us today," I quipped.

"I would rather it be a quiet and boring day." He didn't smile.

"Can't have it both ways. Quiet and boring fits the gray-haired admiral, whereas exciting goes with the pit bull, bloodhound image."

"Is she giving you a hard time, Paul?" Alexa asked as she approached.

"She's trying to adjust to being an admiral." He smiled and waved for us to leave. Since I had no known threats on my life, Pannell had agreed I could use my skimmer to take Alexa and me to work. But he insisted I still needed an armed escort. When I asked why I still needed security, he had smiled. "So I'll have security in place when you find the next bunch of bad guys to chase…and in case someone thinks they can still collect the Wanted Dead reward the hijackers had placed on your head."

* * *

When I entered the naval headquarters building, each of the five security stations had twenty or more persons waiting in line. I had just entered the end of the line for station two when a senior master chief approached me.

"Admiral, please follow me," he said and waved me toward the front of the line.

"Chief Gomez, this is a little embarrassing," I said, leaning toward him.

"Less so than everyone speculating why an admiral is standing in line." He grinned. "Maybe they would think you're not an admiral."

"Thank you, Senior Chief, for reminding me who really keeps the ship operational." I smiled, grateful for his perceptiveness and alertness.

"You’re welcome, Admiral Paulus. We wouldn't want to keep Master Chief Stamm waiting, would we, ma'am?" He nodded toward Stamm, who stood in the hallway entrance to the elevators, and handed me my new identification card, which now had my admiral rank and new position.

"Definitely not, Senior Chief," I said.

"Corporal Mann, turn off the security scanner for Admiral Paulus. She's authorized to carry a weapon," Gomez said to a young, freckled-face man monitoring the checkpoint. When he nodded, I slid my new ID through the slot, the bar released, and I passed through. Stamm stood appraising me with a satisfying expression.

"Ma'am, I thought I'd escort you to your new office and we could discuss your schedule."

"Thank you, Master Chief. I'm not looking forward to today, so anything you can do to make it run smoothly will be appreciated."

"That's what I'm here for." To my surprise, when the elevator opened, no one rushed in. Stamm waved me in, and when no one joined us, he pressed the button with eighteen in red numerals. "Rank has its privileges. Admirals ride alone since their offices are on the eighteenth floor or higher and would have to wait while it stopped at five to ten intermediate floors if the elevator were full." He stood looking at his tablet. Less than a minute later, the elevator opened into a large reception area, where a master chief sat behind a large marble counter.

"Welcome aboard, ma'am," the chief said as he saluted me and then motioned to Stamm to proceed to our right. Stamm stopped about halfway down the hallway and opened the door. I stood mesmerized by the sight. The room was twice the size of my current…no, old office. A wooden executive desk with a beige leather chair sat five meters from the door and was not only larger than my current one, but the wood was a beautiful dark reddish brown. The floor was covered in a navy-blue carpet with the NIA seal in the middle: a ghost-white image of a jellyfish on a dark blue background partially covering a silver trident. The outer circle had the inscription Naval Intelligence Agency. Three padded high-backed chairs sat to one side along the wall, and a sidebar ran along the opposite wall. I walked around the room in a trance. Seeing a door and not sure where it led, I opened it and found a small bathroom. When I looked back, Stamm was smiling. I couldn't blame him. I probably looked bewildered, like someone who just woke in a strange place with no memory of how she got there. I walked behind my desk and stood looking out the floor to ceiling window, admiring the spectacular view of the city, and eventually sat.

"Yes, Carl. I feel like I must look, overwhelmed and…petrified. I've stepped into a strange world where I don't understand the rules."

"That's why you have me, ma'am." He hesitated for a moment, looking at his tablet. "I thought I'd give you an hour to get settled and I could acquaint you with your new access. You can now see the personal files for all the personnel at the NIA stations. And you can review the catalog of accessories available for your office." He smiled at my jaw-dropping expression as I scanned the page he displayed on my desk monitor. "I've scheduled your new Eastar station chief, Commander Damon, at ten and the prospective aide-de-camps for this afternoon."

"What time?" I asked, dreading those interviews.

"Whenever you get around to it." He grinned. "An aide serves at the admiral's pleasure and is on call twenty-four-seven."

I laughed. "So you have them in training."

He nodded. "It's the cost of getting to train under the NIA's resident wizard."

* * *

A knock at the door and a second later, Stamm's head appeared. "Ma'am, Commander Damon is here when you're available."

"Send her in, Master Chief," I said as I considered the upcoming protocol. As a commander, a salute wasn't normally required in one's office. I may stand to greet the person but entering an admiral's office wasn't the same. I didn't really care, but as Lulltrel and the Sharat inquiry board had made perfectly clear, protocol was important to maintaining discipline. As I sat pondering the issue, Damon entered the office, took two steps into the room, braced to attention, and saluted.

"Commander Damon reporting for duty, ma'am," she said but couldn't stop a traitorous twitch of her lip that wanted to turn into a smile. I couldn't blame her, seeing this small young girl dwarfed behind a huge desk and wearing an admiral’s uniform. She must have noticed something, because she immediately continued. "Sorry, ma'am. I'm so excited to be here working for you I can hardly stand still."

I returned her salute, smiled, and stood, coming around the desk. "Get something to drink if you want and have a seat," I said. Damon was also petite with an elfin face, playful smile, and wild, curly blond hair. She shook her head, which made her hair dance as if alive, but waited for me to sit. I put out my hand and she took it. "Welcome aboard, Damon. Unlike you, they had to drag me here kicking and screaming all the way. But I have to admit, I loved being the Eastar NIA chief and I'm going to miss it."

"Quite frankly, I was surprised you picked me," Damon said, looking a bit sheepish.

"I've been told I have an unorthodox style. I wouldn't know, as I've been promoted too fast to acquire the experience to understand the difference. But I value honesty. I'll be very disappointed if you tell me you agree with me when you don't." I held up my hand to stop her from saying anything. "To be honest, you should know you weren't my first choice. I offered the position to Commanders Sinclair and Shrader. But they each have recently become engaged and didn't want to move."

"Being third after Commanders Sinclair and Shrader is very respectable." She grinned, then lowered her gaze. "I've talked to Commanders Newman, Atkins, and Cooper…"

"That was smart," I said. "I imagine the rumor mill has too much information and much of it is conflicting and without context."

She nodded. "You're the most talked-about officer in the navy and ironically by people who never knew you. I preferred to talk to people who know you. They agreed your style was different, but they loved it and said they learned more from you in a year than their entire previous time in service." Damon gave me an award-winning smile. "They were delighted you were promoted and even more so that you will continue to be their boss."

My cheeks felt warm under her gaze. I rose. "Well, Commander, are you ready to meet your new staff?"

"A bit nervous, but yes," she replied with an impish grin. "I'll bet the feeling is mutual."

"I selected them from the candidates each NIA station sent me. I asked for candidates who were interested in moving to Eastar, which means the candidates weren't necessarily the best person from each station. My selections considered time-in-grade but also other factors in the individuals’ last three performance reports. I selected three junior lieutenant commanders." Who are all around my age, I mused. In fact, Damon was two years older. "They need the experience of managing a small section, which this assignment will give them, but they look promising."

"If you don't mind me asking, ma'am, why did you select me?"

"Because you didn't want the position as an opportunity to get promoted but rather to chase bad guys," I said, realizing I had passed over a couple because I sensed they thought Eastar a stepping stone to advance their careers. That wasn't a negative in itself, but I wanted someone who loved the work more than the prestige.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm hoping you can dig up some more bad guys for us to chase." Her bright blue eyes danced with excitement.

"Personally, I hope we've demonstrated that the UAS is not a safe place for criminal activities. For the past two years, my life has been a little too exciting."

* * *

The first aide-de-camp candidate to enter was a junior grade lieutenant with enough time-in-grade to be eligible for lieutenant rank. He had red hair, a round pale face, and looked younger than his twenty-five years. He was average height and soft-looking, although not overweight.

"J. G. Anders reporting as requested," he said in a nervous, cracking voice. After I returned his salute and his eyes settled on me, they went wide like saucers. I couldn't blame him. He was only a few years younger than me, and I didn't look older than my age.

"Have a seat, Anders," I said. After he did, I continued. "Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp?"

"My father is a retired navy lieutenant commander. He said it was the best way to get to know the right people," Anders said, unable to take his eyes off me.

"Why me?" I asked, curious in his reasoning although I already knew I wasn't interested in him after hearing his reason for applying.

"My father said you must be well-connected because you are the youngest admiral in the navy." He blushed, indicating his father must have insinuated more, which he was smart to omit. I let him tell me a bit about his background—navy brat, attended college with average grades, accepted into the navy as an ensign, and received average reviews at an administrative position with Naval Personnel.

The next candidate was a tall, athletic-looking man with a stern, angular face and brown hair cut close to his head. I concluded he was into sports and the ladies, judging by his smooth, good-looking features, sparkling eyes, and the cocky way he entered the room. He was twenty-six, and like Anders, had received average reviews.

"Ma'am, J. G. Summers reporting as ordered," he said loudly as he held his salute.

"At ease and have a seat," I said, waving to the chair in front of my desk. He frowned slightly as he scanned me while sitting. "Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp, Summers?"

"I thought it would be a good way to finish my naval obligation," he said. With a little probing, I found that the navy had funded his education in turn for a six-year commitment. Judging from our conversation he liked sports and women but not work.

The third candidate was, to my surprise, a full lieutenant and several months older than me. He was tall, had an oval-shaped face with wavy, dark brown hair cut just above the ears, and he was clean shaven—overall a good-looking man.

"Ma'am, Lieutenant Banner reporting as requested," he said, just loud enough to be heard.

"At ease and have a seat," I said after returning his salute. He gave me a quick appraising look as he sat and an unconscious nod to some question he or someone else had.

"Why do you want to be an aide-de-camp, Banner?" I asked. I had thought that was a simple question, but the answers I was getting weren't what I had been expecting and I wasn't impressed.

"I want to be your aide-de-camp, Admiral Paulus. I've researched your career and I think I can learn a lot from you. It's a diversion from what I want to do, but I think it will benefit me in the long run."

"And what is it you want to do, Banner?" I asked. This is what I had expected—sort of—a goal of some kind.

"I had originally thought cruiser duty, but I'm hoping a few years with you will help me make a final decision. I had heard you enjoyed cruiser duty but your…krait," he nodded to my shoulder where Red lay watching or maybe evaluating Banner, "makes that impossible."

"That was true initially, but my experiences have caused me to change my mind. I've enjoyed my time on cruisers but wouldn't want to be crew if I could."

"Because of your promotion?" he asked, looking interested.

"No. I don't care about rank. I would not like the responsibility for so many lives. A captain makes decisions that impact the lives of hundreds and indirectly thousands more. No, I'm content chasing bad people, which I hope has a positive impact," I said, knowing I was content in the NIA. "Wouldn't you be better off as an aide to someone older and with more naval experience?"

"I don't think so," he said, giving me an assuring smile indicating this wasn't a whim but a thoughtful decision. "He or she would have lots of experience, but you can't teach someone experience. I don't think there are any officers under full admiral who have your achievements." He pointed to my ribbons.

"Many of those are from being in the right place at the wrong time," I said, wondering what he hoped to gain from exposure to me.

"I suspect those encounters resulted from careful decisions and the actions you took." He shrugged. "Right or wrong, I believe serving you would benefit me."

"All right, Banner, the job is yours if you want it…but understand I don't know what an aide-de-camp is supposed to do or why I need one. You and I will have to determine how we can mutually benefit from the arrangement."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

I tapped on my tablet's icon for Master Chief Stamm, and seconds later he was in the room.

"Master Chief, this is Lieutenant Banner. He has agreed to be my aide-de-camp. He appears to know why he wants the position, which is good, but I don't know what an aide is supposed to do."

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Banner. You made a good choice." Stamm said looking pleased. "The position is a perk and a status symbol accorded to flag rank. Basically, aides are available to fetch and carry, and some admirals use them that way. But the decision is yours. He serves at your will, as do I." He smiled and gave a small head bob.

"Master Chief, why don't you take Lieutenant Banner—" I began but Banner interrupted.

"David…or just Dave," he said, then looked a bit sheepish.

"Take David and get him settled. I understand there is an area with desks for the aides, and he'll need a badge… Sorry, Master Chief. You know better than me what he'll need and should and shouldn't do. I will contemplate life after being the Eastar NIA chief." I waved them off. Banner braced to attention, saluted, and left with Stamm, smiling.

CHAPTER TWO

Star System: Eastar - Getting adjusted

"This is ridiculous," I said as Banner set a cup of my coffee-and-half-milk drink down next to me and went to sit next to Stamm in one of the chairs against the wall. Damon sat to my right at the conference room table. "I have fifteen NIA chiefs reporting to me and you're the only one who bothered to attend."

Damon laughed, and her hair seem to join in as it danced to her head's movement. "Shameful," she said, her eyes bright with amusement.

I sobered. "How are you settling in, Damon?" I asked, wondering how she and her new staff were adjusting.

"Everything is new, so each day is busy and exciting. But I like your choices for section chiefs. Lieutenant Commander Abbott has a background in computers and has developed a software program that shows what each of his reports is working on and their current status. They update their status daily. He's given the program to Lieutenant Commanders Tucker and Cook, giving each access to the other's projects. I like their attitudes. They are competitive, but it appears good-natured." She went on to explain their projects, which were mostly petty robberies. "Nothing exciting. I've been hoping you'd discover something interesting, ma'am."

"How can I when my reports don't attend my staff meetings?" I asked in mock frustration. In truth, I felt their absence was a potential problem.

* * *

"How did you like cruiser duty?" I asked Banner as he delivered me my morning cup of coffee.

"I spent two years on the UAS Cruiser Scylla, where I was assigned to the environmental department. I found the assignment interesting but didn't feel challenged—"

"Ma'am, Admiral Lulltrel would like to see you at your convenience," Stamm interrupted, listening to an incoming call via his earbud.

"Check my calendar. I'm sure I have a few minutes to spare her sometime next week," I said, looking to Stamm, who pretended to check his tablet. Banner looked worried as his gaze went from Stamm to me and back again. "Or I could drop everything and get my butt to her office before she notices I'm not standing there waiting to enter," I said as I rose, snagged my jacket out of Banner's hand after he had barely managed to remove it from the coat rack, and double-timed out the door Stamm was holding open. When I reached Lulltrel's office, which was now only at the other end of the hallway, her aide, Lieutenant Commander Spalding, had the door open. I entered, braced to attention, and saluted.

"Have a seat, Anna." She waved to two padded chairs as she rose and took the one opposite me. "Admiral Webb would like you to do him a favor." She shook her head before I could respond. "No, that's not a polite order. It's a real favor since it has nothing to do with NIA. But Webb is a good boss and told me first to ensure I was in the loop, and he wasn't subverting the chain of command. You don't have to agree to help, or you can agree and just go through the motions… Except that's not your way, is it, Anna?" She gave a small snort.

"Are you comfortable with his request, ma'am?" I asked. "You're a good boss, and I wouldn't want to do anything you weren't comfortable with."

"Thank you, Anna. Yes, I'm comfortable with you talking with Webb and you doing whatever you feel appropriate. I'll leave it to you to tell me whatever you think is relevant for me to know." She tapped on her tablet. "Spalding, see when Admiral Webb will be available to talk with Admiral Paulus."

Before we could finish our coffees, Spalding knocked and peeked in.

"Ma'am, his secretary said now would be a good time."

I stood, saluted, and left for the stairs, since climbing two floors would be faster than the elevator. When I arrived, the door was open and the lieutenant on duty waved for me to go in. I entered, braced to attention, and saluted.

Webb returned my salute and waved for me to sit as he rose to join me. "Lieutenant Grimes, get Admiral Paulus and me some coffee. Anna, a fellow officer and friend, a General Guzman, had his daughter go missing several weeks ago. He claims the police aren't doing anything to find her and asked me to help. I know this is a local police matter…but I was hoping you would take a look and give me your impression." He sipped the coffee his aide had put in front of him as he awaited my response.

"Sir, I'd be glad to talk to the police, but I can't guarantee they'll give me access to the case files or that they'll even be willing to discuss the case with me."

"All I'm asking is for you to do what you can. I think the request would be better coming from you than me."

* * *

"Carl, would you see if you can get me an appointment with the Eastar Police Commissioner," I said, then quickly added, "at his convenience." I had dealt with Commissioner Kinard before and thought we were on good terms, but the police tended to be very protective of their domain and didn't tolerate outside interference. Asking to be briefed on their actions and findings would top their not-in-your-lifetime list.

A short time later, Stamm jerked me out of my musings. "Ma'am, you have an appointment with Commissioner Kinard for eight hundred hours tomorrow at the police headquarters building."

"Carl, I'll go straight there tomorrow. I don't know when I'll be back—hopefully by noon. If I'm delayed, I'll call and let you know," I said, hoping Kinard didn't dismiss me two minutes after I told him what I wanted. When Carl left, I sat back and pondered what my involvement with the NIA station chiefs should be. I didn't want to interfere in their day-to-day activities but felt I'd be remiss if I limited my interaction to reading their monthly reports. By the time I left work, I had a cruiser-sized headache.

"You look worried, Daughter," Alexa said as we met in the hallway outside our rooms after I had changed out of my uniform and had a wash. "Trouble or just the stress of a new job?"

"I don't think admirals work. They have master chiefs or lieutenants as guard dogs, aides-de-camp to fetch and run errands, and a staff to do the actual work," I blurted.

Alexa laughed. "Boredom? Is that the problem?" she asked and laughed again, pointing to Red, who was partially wrapped around my neck but whose small red head and part of his body hung limp on my chest. "Looks like Red is also bored."

"He's probably caught my headache. I have a staff of fifteen commanders but only one attends my staff meetings."

Alexa laughed once more. "So you're bored."

"I'm concerned. I have absolutely no contact with them," I said as we proceeded down the stairs and took our seats for dinner. Against tradition, Alexa had a round table that could seat eight rather than a more formal rectangular one. She hoped it made her guests less conscious of others’ job positions or rank. As we did Carla, the cook, placed salads in front of us.

"They are commanders, so it shouldn't be necessary to watch them closely." This time Alexa looked serious.

"Mother, how would you like to captain a war cruiser where your navigator resided in the environmental department, your weapons officer in the Marines area, your communications officer in the dispensary, etc., and you had to communicate via a runner." I threw my arms up in exasperation. Alexa choked on the salad she was chewing. I jumped up and stood patting her on the back, ready to help further if necessary as she fought to clear her throat. When she finally stopped coughing, she began laughing.

"That's an image that is going to be hard to forget. But I see your point. I would imagine most flag officers would consider that a bonus—less work, therefore more time to enjoy the prestige. Speaking of that, how did the interviews go?"

"I selected an aide-de-camp and I like him. But neither he nor I know what he's supposed to do." I lowered my head onto the table and banged it several times. "Oh, Admiral Webb wants me to do him a personal favor."

"That's good, isn't it? It will give you something to do."

"He wants me to poke into an ongoing police investigation that has no naval involvement," I said to clarify the potential problem and then added, "I'd rather stick my bare hand into a beehive to get sweetener for my coffee."

Alexa sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the table and began choking again. When she stopped, she began laughing. Eventually she sobered. "I never realized there were so many problems to being an admiral," she said and laughed again.

* * *

Dressed in a navy-blue pantsuit with a light-blue cotton blouse open at the neck, I walked into the lobby of the police headquarters building fifteen minutes early because I wasn't sure what delays I might encounter getting to the Commissioner's office.

"Can I help you?" a young police officer asked as I approached the information counter, which sat prominently in the middle of the lobby. Behind the black marble counter were several security lanes where badges, destinations, and luggage where checked. I had intentionally left my multifunctional weapon, Mfw, with my security detail, whom I had asked to remain in the lobby. I hoped I'd be relatively safe in a building swarming with police.

"Yes. I'm Miss Anna Paulus and I have an eight o'clock appointment with Commissioner Kinard."

The young man frowned as he examined his monitor. "Can I see some identification, ma'am? This says Admiral Paulus." He smiled. I smiled back and handed him my NIA identification badge. He blushed and returned it along with a visitor's badge. "The commissioner is located on the tenth floor, Admiral. This pass will get you through the security and authorize you to be on the tenth floor."

"Thank you, Officer," I said and headed for the security gates. I had no problem and was glad I wasn't carrying a weapon. On the tenth floor, a police sergeant directed me to Kinard's secretary and I arrived ten minutes early.

"You can go right in, Miss Paulus. Commissioner Kinard is expecting you," said the middle-aged woman secretary. Although smiling, she looked confused—probably because Kinard had listed me as an admiral and I was wearing civilian clothes and didn't fit the image of an admiral. She knocked and then opened the door to a room about the size of my office. When I entered, Kinard rose and came around his desk to meet me.

"I still can't believe you and I survived investigating Vice Admiral Lulltrel. Although you had P1A authority at the time, I thought you would be court martialed and I'd be assigned to a desk job for the rest of my career." He laughed. "I'm surprised you aren't in uniform. As a newly promoted admiral, I would have thought you would have to be forced to take it off. But you don't care about rank, do you, Anna?" he said more as a statement rather than a question. "Or you wouldn't have had Lulltrel investigated."

"I wanted it clear I'm seeking a personal favor, which has nothing to do with the navy," I said.

"It couldn't have anything to do with General Guzman's missing daughter?" he asked, and I nodded. "Then you were ordered—"

"No, sir. Neither Admiral Webb nor Lulltrel would do that. They know the case is a local police matter. But General Guzman is a personal friend of Admiral Webb. He asked me as a personal favor to see what I could find out, hoping it would help ease the worry of his friend."

"Although I understand his concern, Anna, Guzman's an asshole. We told him what we knew—which admittedly wasn't much—but he got abusive," Kinard said. I nodded, understanding. "I like you, Anna. And because I believe you may have a useful insight, I'll let you see the file and talk with the detective who caught the case." He tapped on his tablet. "MaryAnn, have detective Gonzales bring me the Guzman case file." He smiled. "This shouldn't take long. I imagine he's using the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator." Sure enough, Gonzales arrived just after Kinard had made us coffee.

"Gonzales, this is—"

"Anna," I said.

"Anna. Despite her young age, she's a certified bloodhound and a colleague. I've agreed to let her look at the Guzman case."

For the next two hours, Gonzales went over what they had discovered in the course of their investigation: Susan Guzman was in the second half of her sophomore year at the Eastar Institute of Technology, working on a degree in Mechanical Engineering. Her grades were excellent, a four-point-seven grade average. She dated but didn't have a steady, liked parties, but was not a regular attendee. She drank alcohol and occasionally popped mild drugs but wasn't an addict. And by all accounts, she wasn't a virgin but was selective. In general, a good student who wasn’t indulging in any reckless behavior. It had been three weeks since she disappeared without a trace. She was last seen at the school cafeteria around nineteen hundred hours and reportedly had indicated she was going to the library to study for a test the next day in her Engineering Mathematics class. The library workers thought they saw a girl answering to Susan's description the night in question but weren’t positive.

"In our experience, girls that disappear usually fall into one of several categories: those who choose to leave home because they rebel against their parents' restrictions, are being abused, or for a boy. Kidnappings and murders are rarer, maybe less than five percent of the cases. Frankly, because Susan's father was a general, we went the extra mile. We interviewed everyone known to be in the library that night, students in her dorm, her friends, and checked the cameras around the campus, train stations, and space port. Since then, there has been no activity on her credit card," Gonzales said, obviously frustrated. "This is one of those rare cases where the person vanishes, like a magic act—poof."

"Do you get many magic-act cases?" I asked, wondering how common it was for someone to just vanish—an anomaly or not.

"They used to be very rare, but over the past few years I've seen more. Still rare, but not as much as before," Gonzales said and pursed his lips in thought.

Kinard laughed. "I see that bloodhound nose expanding and getting closer to the ground."

"Commissioner, I know you don't have the manpower to pursue…anomalies, but with your permission I'd like to satisfy my curiosity. It's actually the reason Admiral Lulltrel brought me to Eastar—I love puzzles."

"That's how you discovered the marines-for-hire syndicate, if I remember correctly," he said more as a question.

"Yes, sir."

"What are you going to tell Webb?" he asked, staring at me.

"That you went out of your way to satisfy me and that I thought your investigation was extremely thorough," I said, returning his gaze.

"And if I allow you access?" he asked.

"I'll report my findings to you for your action unless I find a problem that extends to other systems. But in any case, you get the information first."

Kinard smiled. "If it were anyone else, I would suspect they would be seeking personal gain. But after the marine-for-hire scandal, you turned everything over to us to take action. Hardly the response of someone seeking personal gain."

"Sir, lieutenant was the last rank I was comfortable holding." I didn't smile. Kinard roared with laughter.

"Anna, I actually believe you. All right, I confess I'm also interested. Gonzales, you can help the NIA get the access they need to look at this…anomaly."

* * *

"Carl, ask Commander Damon to see me when she's free…and Banner," I said over our intercom link and went back to contemplating what my involvement with my staff should be. I didn't want to micromanage their stations but worried their isolation may overlook something that could be relevant when all fifteen stations were considered. Thankfully, a knock at my door interrupted my musings, which were just giving me a headache. Banner stepped in and closed the door.

"Have a seat, David," I said, and he retreated to a chair against the wall. He had just sat when there was another knock and Carl peeked in.

"Commander Damon is here," he said with a grin. When I looked at the clock, only five minutes had elapsed. I smiled realizing, that was what I did when Lulltrel said she wanted to see me—drop everything and take the stairs two at a time to avoid having to wait for the elevator.

"Send her in, Carl." I grinned back. Damon exploded through the door, still breathing hard, and saluted.

"Commander Damon reporting as requested," she said in a rush. Her face was flushed with excitement.

"I think I heard you say you hoped I'd find an exciting project for you, didn't I?" I asked, producing a frown.

"Yes, Admiral. I do remember saying something to that effect." She beamed a playful smile at me and her eyes sparkled.

"Lieutenant Banner, get Commander Damon whatever she'd like to drink."

"Water," she said. When she sat, I began.

"General Guzman's daughter went missing several weeks ago. The general, for whatever reason, felt the police weren't doing enough and were withholding information from him. He asked Admiral Webb for help, who asked me to look into the matter."

"That's tricky. It's clearly a police matter and they wouldn't like anyone interfering," Damon said, frowning in thought, probably remembering a similar incident.

"True. But I've had dealings with Commissioner Kinard and he was kind enough to have Detective Gonzales, who was in charge of the case, walk me through what they found. In general, none of the normal reasons for children to run away exists as far as they can determine. Her relationship with her parents appears good, her grades are excellent, which would indicate she wasn’t depressed or distracted, and they ruled out excessive drug use and a serious relationship. As Detective Gonzales said, she just went poof, like in a magic act."

"What was your conclusion?" Damon asked.

"The police were very thorough," I said.

"And you want me to…?"

"It appears to be an anomaly, which I'd like you to explain," I said remaining serious.

"Explain?" her eyes went wide in surprise.

"Right now, it's a small project for your boss. We'll call it Magic Act. I'd like you to look at the last three or four years to determine whether any similar cases have occurred, what they have in common, and the number that were eventually solved. You're to contact Detective Gonzales. You won't have a problem, as the commissioner has authorized him to work with us. You're not to share the project with anyone except Lieutenant Banner, Master Chief Stamm, and those you might have working on the project."

"You're expecting…?"

"You to tell me what happened," I said, like it was obvious.

"But you said the police were thorough," Damon said, looking nervous.

"Yes, but they didn't solve the case. Humor me. I don't like unexplained anomalies, or maybe I'm just bored and hoping you can solve that problem."

CHAPTER THREE

Star System: Eastar - When Is an Anomaly Not an Anomaly

Damon bolted up as Banner called attention just before I entered the Condor Conference room. It was one of three shared conference rooms on the eighteenth floor. The room was named after a UAS cruiser which managed to stop three FPU cruisers from attacking the planet Westar during the border war some forty years ago. Condor was the smallest of the three conference rooms, with a capacity for ten at the oblong table and another fifteen along the walls, which made it ridiculously large for my staff meeting—only four people were attending, not counting my ever-present security and Red. Although the room was the smallest, like all the admirals' conference rooms, the chairs reclined and rotated and were finished in a plush navy-blue leather. The table was a unique dark purple hardwood from the planet Black Water and the room contained the latest electronics gadgets.

"At ease," I said, feeling foolish, but knew I couldn't and shouldn't tamper with tradition—too much. Flag officers required the room be called to attention when he or she entered. As I sat, I noticed that Damon had a devilish smile.

"You knew what we would find," she blurted, "Commander Cooper said you were a witch," she said but added quickly, "A good witch."

"And what did I know that I sent you to find?" I asked, maintaining a serious face, although it was hard watching Damon trembling with excitement. "Sit before you explode."

As she sat, I felt Red emerge and wind around my neck with his head on my shoulder facing Damon. "Even Red is interested," I said.

"That's eerie, ma'am." She nodded toward Red. "Anyway, I've spent the last week with Detective Gonzales reviewing the missing persons files. He was very cooperative. When I had questions, he even called in the detective who investigated the case to answer them. We've narrowed the list to six young women over the past three years. We actually looked at a total of five years but found no similar cases in either the fourth or fifth year. We found one case three years ago, and two last year. This year has had two, including Susan Guzman. And this year has eight months to go. When Gonzales told the Commissioner, he got involved. He concluded they would never have found the…apparent trend, as there are over fifty cases a year and there are five detectives who investigate missing person reports." She laughed. "He said only someone like my boss could figure it out." Smiling she looked back at her notes. "Three of the girls were in college, but the other three had found jobs straight out of compulsory school. Three were blonds, one redhead, and two brunettes. And their heights varied from one hundred sixty to one hundred seventy-eight centimeters," Damon said and then cocked her head as if to ask what now.

"And your conclusion?" I asked, trying not to smile at the shocked look on her face. She remained silent for a long time.

"There appears to be a pattern here that doesn't conform to normal reasons that people go missing. For one thing, none of the seven have turned up or were reported as having been seen. But I don't know what that suggests."

I smiled. "You obviously talked to Commander Newman and he warned you I don't like guessing," I said. She gave a wry smile and nodded. "Good. The trouble with assumptions based on guessing is it can lead you down the wrong path and cause you to miss the right one. What we know at this point is that Susan Guzman isn't an anomaly. What we need to determine is whether the seven cases you found are related."

"Any suggestion, ma'am?" Damon asked, frowning in thought.

"Start with what they have in common. I'd like you to give the commissioner a profile he can use to predict the next woman who will go missing without a trace."

"What if they are random or unrelated?"

"What if they aren't random and they are related?"

"How will that help the Commissioner? That's likely to include hundreds of women."

"It won't. But it will please your boss."

"Yes, ma'am. I can see why the Commissioner would want such a profile." She gave me an elfin smile.

* * *

"Ma'am, I'm confused," Banner said as he set a cup of coffee on my desk. "How can such a profile help the commissioner?"

"It can't."

"But Commander Damon said—" Banner began but I interrupted.

"Damon knows I want the profile. Therefore, the real question is, why do I want the profile if it won't help the commissioner?" I looked at Banner, who slowly nodded. "We now know Susan Guzman's disappearance isn't an anomaly, since there are other similar cases. The next question is whether their disappearances are related. To determine that we need information: did they know each other, participate is some activity together or separately, etc. When we have that information, we will be able to make an informed decision. Right now, any conjecture would be guessing.”

* * *

"At ease," Lulltrel said as she entered her conference room and sat. Her staff hadn't changed, but everyone was now a rear admiral, lower-half, because of our success in catching the hijackers and the marines who were part of the marines-for-hire syndicate. "Well, Paulus, how does it feel to be an admiral?"

"Embarrassing and boring," I blurted. Seeing shocked faces around the table, I quickly added, "The real problem is that I haven't been able to determine if being an admiral is boring or whether I'm bored because I'm not doing something I should."

"What do you mean, not doing something you should?" Lulltrel asked, leaning forward with amused interest.

"I have fifteen commanders reporting to me but only one attends my staff meetings. You have to admit that could be boring. But is that the way it should be?"

"But they will be sending you monthly reports. That's like having a monthly staff meeting with all fifteen of them," Byrnes said. He managed the NIA school, called the Academy, which taught new recruits the essentials of being an NIA agent. He was in his late forties, average height, and had a full beard and mustache that gave him the look of a college professor. And his laid-back, philosophical manner reinforced the look. He had a sharp mind and was constantly searching for ways to challenge the recruits to be creative.

"How would you like to manage the recruits from your office using monthly reports they sent you on their progress?" I asked which elicited smiles and snorts.

"But your direct reports are commanders, not students," Byrnes said, implying that was a different situation.

"Not so different. The students want to pass the course and the commanders want to get promoted. Those are strong motivations to omit, ignore, or embellish their reports," I said and heard Lulltrel snort, obviously thinking about the monthly reports from the NIA station chiefs before I was assigned to monitor them.

"That's human nature and we learn to read between the lines. You managed to identify the hijackers and the marines-for-hire activity when you were the Eastar station chief," Leyva said. He managed the NIA's Forensic Department. Leyva was also in his forties, but he was clean-shaven, and his light brown hair was receding at the temples. He frequently looked like he had stayed up all night at work but was meticulous at his job.

"True. It's easy to read between the lines if you can observe that individual. Not so easy when you don't know them and can't see them. And yes, I discovered two criminal organizations, but how many have I missed?"

"You're talking to the NIA's resident bloodhound," said Hadley, the NIA Data Collection Chief, with a laugh. Hadley was a tall, slender woman in her early forties. Her angular face and black hair pulled back in a ponytail would have been intimidating if not for her warm smile. "She's bored now that she's chased all the criminals out of the UAS."

"Yes, being an admiral can be boring, but most of us don't reach flag rank until we're old enough to appreciate the easier pace. Even so, admirals are paid for their experience and to guide their assigned organizations. Ninety-five percent of our jobs could be adequately handled by most competent lieutenant commanders. It's the five percent where we earn our pay." Lulltrel scanned everyone in the room before continuing. "Like coercing you to accept the Eastar NIA station chief position." She smiled at me. "But I understand what you are saying. Do you have a solution or suggestion?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a today person, and today I'm not only bored, I'm concerned I'm not doing my job," I said, being truthful.

"When you figure it out, Anna, let me know because I'm interested." She looked around the room. "Anyone else bored and need extra work?"

"No, ma'am." Came the unanimous chorus. My face felt warm seeing everyone grinning at me.

"Paulus, join me in my office," Lulltrel said as she rose and left the room. When we arrived, she waved toward two padded armchairs off to the right of her desk. As we sat, her aide put two cups of coffee on the table between us. Lulltrel's was black and mine a creamy brown color. I nodded my thanks. "Well, what did you find out, if anything?" she asked, obviously referring to General Guzman's daughter.

"The police were very cooperative. They not only let me see the case file but had the detective in charge of the investigation there to answer my questions. Their investigation was very thorough."

"Apparently the general didn't think so," Lulltrel said, eyebrows raised.

"I suspect the general may have treated them like soldiers under his command and ruffled the commissioner's feathers. General Guzman was rightly upset, but the police aren't to blame. His daughter is just one of many missing persons. Given their limited resources, I believe his daughter's case got special consideration."

"I hear some reservations." She gave me a knowing stare.

"Ma'am, with the commissioner's permission, I'm looking at the case," I said, not wanting to speculate on the reason.

Lulltrel shook her head. "You think the police missed something," she said with certainty.

"It's possible. I'm having Commander Damon follow up on a few questions I have."

"What do you want Admiral Webb to tell General Guzman?"

"That the police were very thorough in their investigation but were unable to discover what happened to her and have no leads to pursue at this time."

"Oh, that will be a showstopper," Lulltrel said, shaking her head.

CHAPTER FOUR

Star System: Eastar - Chasing Ghosts

"Well, David, are you sorry you decided to be my aide-de-camp yet?" I asked as he placed a cup of coffee on my desk. Banner, Stamm, and I were having our early morning preview of the coming workday.

"Ma'am, if you don't mind me saying so, you have an interesting style of management. I've never had an opportunity to observe a flag officer in action, but the commanders I've known are more…decisive…aggressive. Do this, do that, get your head out of your ass, ensign…" he paused with an embarrassed grimace but continued when I gave a small smile and nodded. "You're more…conversational, inquisitive. I would have expected something like: Don't question me, or just do it, or I want it on my desk tomorrow, not Because it will please your boss.

While I sat thinking about the difference, Carl snickered. "You don't do things for our boss because she ordered you to. You do it because you don't want to disappoint her and because you know there's a lesson in what she's asking and it will be worth doing. And if you think the admiral is a pushover, Banner, you never want to upset her." Carl looked far off, like he was recalling something before his expression turned serious. "Not much scares a grizzly old master chief like me, but Admiral Paulus can and has." Carl smiled at me then added. "Newman."

"It probably comes down to who you admire and want to emulate," I said, uncertain whether Carl was right or not. "The people I admire and who are my mentors do what they do because they love their work. They aren't driven by glory, recognition, or promotion and therefore have nothing to prove."

"Then to answer your question, ma'am, I'm glad I decided to be your aide-de-camp. I think you have a lot to teach me."

* * *

"Ma'am, Admiral Lulltrel," Stamm said, holding the door open as she strode by him, looking worried. I rocketed to my feet, causing my chair to spin backward. She looked distraught. But before I could worry about the reason, she spoke.

"Sorry, Anna. But Admiral Webb wants you to brief him and General Guzman on what you discovered about the general's daughter. That's very unfair, as you will be the bearer of very bad news and will take the blunt of Guzman's anger and grief. If you don't mind, I'd like to go along."

"Thank you, ma'am. That's very considerate," I said, appreciating her concern and the effort to protect me. She waved for me to follow her and turned right toward the elevators. "I'm not as young as you, Anna, and prefer the elevator to the stairs. When I was younger, I used to use the stairs when Webb called." She gave a quiet laugh at the memory.

The door was open when we reached Webb's office. As we entered, Webb and a man in a marine uniform with four stars stood looking angry. Although not tall—he and Webb were about the same height—he was broader in the shoulders with a weightlifter's build. His hair was cut close to the scalp and his face square and craggy. I felt like a matador facing a raging bull, preparing for the final do-or-die clash. But worse than that, I could feel Guzman's crippling pain over the loss of his daughter like banderillas protruding from his back, draining his strength, and making him rage with anger and straining to lash out and kill. Everyone could sense it, but my connection with Red—who was currently wrapped around my neck with his head on my shoulder, looking at the general—made the feeling overwhelming and I felt dizzy. It took all my strength to stand at attention and salute.

"Well, what did you find?" Guzman shouted. To my surprise and embarrassment, Red hissed as he rose several centimeters off my shoulder.

"Gordon, I know you're worried about Susan, but Admiral Paulus is not the enemy. Besides, the antivenin if that krait bites you is apparently a painful two-day experience," Webb said, taking Guzman's arm and leading him to one of the four chairs arranged in a circle around a glass-topped wooden coffee table. The glass was engraved with the Navy insignia: a gray-haired man, Jupiter, holding a trident shooting lightning bolts in one hand and a shield with the UAS colors in the other. Behind Jupiter were storm clouds, and around the edge were the words The United Alliance of Stars Navy. "I sent Admiral Paulus to see what she could find about the status of the investigation into your missing daughter. Sit and she'll tell us what she discovered," Webb said as he guided the man to one of the padded chairs.

"That they don't give a shit that my daughter's missing. Just another runaway in their feeble minds, and therefore not worth their precious time. It would cut into their lunch break," he shouted. Everyone tried to calm him down, which I thought unnecessary. If the rampage released some of his pent-up frustration, I thought it beneficial.

"Well?" He glared at me.

"You're right in a way—"

"Told you," he shouted at Webb. I ignored his outburst and continued.

"They have over fifty missing persons a year. Each human being precious to someone." I paused for that to sink in. "The police cannot commit their entire force or even half investigating one without neglecting the others. Given that, they do the best they can, giving more attention to those where there is information they can follow up on. They are reluctant to open their files to relatives because it wastes their limited resources." I held up my hand to stop comments. "The relatives would rightly question everything the police have done and suggest all sorts of things they should be doing. They would ignore the fact that the police are also working on other cases and that they don't have the time or resources to pursue every conceivable possibility no matter how unlikely. Although they didn't have to, the police commissioner not only allowed me access to the case file on your daughter but also had the detective who investigated the case available to answer my questions. In my opinion, the police spent more time on your daughter's case than normal even though they had nothing to go on."

"So that's it? Case closed?" he asked, although with less venom.

"No. It will remain an active case and they will follow up on any leads that develop. The commissioner also agreed I could continue looking into the unique circumstances of your daughter's disappearance."

"What do you mean by unique? She's a missing person like all the others," Guzman said defensively.

"The majority of missing young women generally fall into one of three categories: due to problems at home, involvement with a boy, or drug related." I held up my hand to stop Guzman from saying the obvious. "Their investigation concluded that none of those scenarios applied to your daughter's case."

"But you're continuing to look at my daughter's case?' He looked to Webb, his face showing relief. Webb looked to me.

"I'm looking to see if your daughter's case is an anomaly. If so, there is nothing I can do that the police haven't already done."

"Anomaly?"

"A rare or unusual event."

"And what have you found?" he asked.

"I'd be guessing, as I have too little information at this point in my investigation."

"Tell me—that's an order!" Guzman rose out of his chair, his face hard and his eyes lasers aimed at me.

"Do you order your officers to guess when they don't know an answer to one of your questions?" I asked, curious to know whether he would condone that kind of behavior. He glared at me but said nothing.

"Gordon, Paulus will keep me advised on her progress, and I will keep you up to date, Webb said, which ended the confrontation. Webb saw Guzman out but asked Lulltrel and me to stay.

"Care to share?" Webb asked, staring at me. He felt concerned and a bit amused. "Your new rear admiral is a bit of a pit bull, Lulltrel. It's not easy to back down the chief of the army and marines."

"She had a lot of trouble with adult-speak," Lulltrel said and gave a small chuckle. "But she's learned admiral-speak really fast." They both laughed then turned their expectant gazes on me.

"Guzman's daughter's disappearance doesn't appear to be an anomaly," I said. "It looks like a pattern of some kind but it's too early to speculate. I have Commander Damon gathering more information for me."

* * *

"Well, Daughter, how did your meeting with Webb go?" Alexa asked as we sat relaxing in the front room after a spicy chicken dinner and a strawberry crème brûlée dessert.

"Interesting. General Guzman was there," I said, thinking back to the incident.

Alexa snorted. "I've never met the man, but he has a reputation for being hot-tempered and short on patience."

"That's an accurate assessment, but to be fair, his daughter is missing and he's in a lot of pain."

"I'd be frantic if… I was frantic when you went missing. I wanted to get on the next spaceship to Westar and join the search."

"But you didn't."

"No. I knew everyone was doing everything they could and they would let me know as soon as they knew something." She reached out and grabbed me in a bear hug. "I was scared out of my mind."

I grinned. "He ordered me to tell him…no, to guess at what happened to his daughter."

"You aren't in his chain of command." She frowned. "What did Webb say?"

"Before Webb could respond, I asked Guzman if he asks his officers to guess." I gave Alexa a wry smile. "That sort of ended the discussion. After he left, Lulltrel said I had trouble learning adult-speak but had learned admiral-speak fast."

Alexa sat chuckling off and on all evening.

CHAPTER FIVE

Star System: Eastar - A Disturbing Pattern

"At ease," I said as Damon finished saluting, "and take a seat." I had decided to hold my staff meetings in my office since there were only four of us, and I had Banner arrange for drinks and snacks to be available. I preferred informal meetings, as I thought people were more likely to be thinking clearer if they were relaxed.

"Ma'am, I enlisted two of my group to help me. I hope you don't mind. I thought it would expedite the process," Damon began hesitantly.

"Good thinking. Just make sure they understand they aren't to discuss what they are doing with anyone not involved," I said.

"Why, ma'am?"

"Paranoia," I said. "Just in case it involves organized criminal activity. In that case, we don't want to alert them that we are investigating the incident."

"Do you think it does?" Damon asked.

I put my fingers to my mouth and pinched my lips. "How would I know? You're doing the investigating." I heard a quiet snort from either Banner or Stamm. Damon gave a sheepish nod and tapped on her tablet. A moment later a table appeared on my tablet, which I forwarded to Banner and Stamm.

"As you can see, ma'am, there doesn't seem to be any connection between the women. Two of the women attended Eastar University. They may have known each other but they weren't friends and didn't run in the same circles. Three had compulsory schooling and full-time jobs, but the jobs were at different companies. The sixth woman was attending a different college than the other two," Damon said, summarizing the lack of commonality between the women.

"I agree there doesn't appear to be a connection between the six women, but I asked for a profile that someone could use to identify the most likely next missing person. If you can create a profile that fits all the women, then it isn't random—otherwise it is," I said, trying to maintain a bland expression. "Let's make that next week's assignment. In other words, if I gave you comprehensive information on a hundred people, the profile should allow you to pick out the ones most likely to be kidnapped."

"Yes, ma'am," Damon said, deep in thought.

* * *

During the week, the monthly reports began coming in. They looked like the ones Lulltrel used to get—a summary that looked like items they would like in their yearly reviews and general information on the working or closed cases. Byrnes was right. They were each sending me a monthly report. And Leyva was right that I needed to read between the lines. That worked for Shrader and Sinclair, since I had worked cases with them and for Newman, Cooper, and Atkins, who had been my section chiefs. Ironically, their reports were complete, clear, and to the point and didn't require me to read between the lines. The others I didn't know, but I felt certain there were a couple of commanders who resented me being in charge and were playing some kind of a childish game that could interfere with them doing their jobs.

* * *

"Well, Damon, having fun yet?" I asked as I sat for my weekly staff meeting. I had been told she was working late and arriving early.

"Yes, ma'am. I was looking for excitement and found it. But I didn't realize how much hard work it involves." She grinned her pixy smile. "I went back and reexamined the women looking for what they had in common: places they visited, their activities, and overall attributes. None of the women were found to have visited similar places or participated in activities together, nor did they appear to have common physical characteristics like hair color, height, etc. But I believe I was being too specific. When I stepped back and looked, they had all reached the age of majority, were educated with a compulsory education or higher, were attractive, dated, attended parties but did not exhibit reckless behavior, went missing without a trace, and are still missing." She looked at me, seeking feedback. "Is that what you wanted?"

I nodded. "To qualify for the magic act, you must be:

- a woman, and attractive

- at least eighteen years old but not more than twenty

- graduated compulsory school

- working or attending college

- unattached

- active in parties, sex, and drugs but not reckless," I said while considering how that uniquely qualified the women.

"But how does that help?" Damon asked the question everyone had on their mind.

"That's a list of qualifications. The real question is whether that list is complete or partial—and what does that qualify a woman for?" I asked. "When we know that, we will know why the women disappeared."

* * *

"You've been in your new position for over a month now. So what do you think, Daughter?" Alexa asked as we settled down on our oversized curved couch, Alexa curled up at one end and me at the other. On occasion we sat with our legs stretched out and feet touching, like tonight, in affirmation of our strong mother-daughter bond.

"I think admirals are overpaid—"

Alexa choked out a laugh. "Overpaid?"

"Yes, Mother, grossly. They have extra-large offices, secretaries, and aides, and sit around waiting for some critical decision that may occur once in a year or two," I said. "Even Lulltrel said that any lieutenant commander could handle ninety-five percent of our responsibilities. We are paid to make critical decisions, which she said constituted less than five percent of the job."

"I gather that means my poor daughter is still bored." Alexa grinned.

"I would be, except for Admiral Webb's special request to look into Susan Guzman's disappearance."

"I thought you were finished with that. You told me the police let you examine the case file and you were satisfied they had been very thorough."

"That's the problem with Susan Guzman's disappearance and my absent staff. How do I figure out that five percent I'm being overpaid to do?"

"You get monthly reports."

"If their reports were like Adrian and Chris's, that would be adequate," I said referring to my old teammates, Commanders Shrader and Sinclair. "But I have the uneasy feeling that several of my commanders are either playing games or aren't qualified to manage an NIA station," I said, sounding as frustrated as I felt.

"What do you mean?" Alexa asked, leaning forward.

"The police did a thorough investigation but were unaware they’d had six similar cases over the past eighteen months. To me, that should require special attention. Commissioner Kinard agrees now that I've identified the problem."

"You're concerned that similar problems could exist at one or more of the NIA stations but you will never know." Alexa nodded in agreement. "But that's a police matter."

"Only if it’s a local matter…" I paused, wondering if that was what was bothering me. "Mother, what job would require an eighteen-year-old, attractive woman who had at minimum a compulsory education, who like parties, sex, and drugs but who didn't participate in reckless behavior?" While Alexa sat frowning, deep in thought, I continued. "And required that she leave home without telling anyone why or where she was going?"

"You already know, don't you?" Alexa's foot touched mine, acknowledging she understood it was what Red and I did—chase evil people.

CHAPTER SIX

Star System: Eastar - Seeking Answers

Lulltrel went around the room in her normal order—Byrnes, Leyva, Hadley, and then me. Nothing of interest had been raised during their weekly summaries.

"Well, Paulus, are you still bored and have you made any progress on figuring out your responsibilities?" she asked with obvious amusement. The others also looked interested in my answer.

"I'm not bored at the moment, ma'am, but only because I have two problems I'm not sure I know how to solve," I said, being honest. I may have learned admiral-speak, but I was still struggling with adult-speak—I was too honest and just said what I thought.

"Want help? I have three rear admirals. I'd imagine they wouldn't mind sharing their years of experience." Lulltrel nodded at the three and smiled.

"Byrnes is right that I have monthly reports, which could somewhat compensate for the individuals not being present. But that assumes the reports are complete, unbiased, and truthful—"

"You think they aren't…complete or truthful?" Byrnes asked, then added. "You have to accept that all reports are biased to one degree or another."

"True. If the reports were from Commanders Shrader or Sinclair, I could read between the lines, as I know each of them personally. But they have nothing to prove, so their reports tend to be complete and accurate. And they would be happy to answer any questions I had."

Lulltrel interrupted before I could continue. "Any of your reports would be stupid to refuse to respond to your queries. And even if they didn't like it, they would keep it to themselves. The system doesn't permit lessor ranks to argue with admirals."

"Not directly, but indirectly by misleading statements or omissions or misdirection. For example, I heard a rumor… How do you prove he or she didn't hear a rumor? It's hard to read between the lines as Leyva suggested if you don't know the person," I said, pausing to look at Lulltrel. "I can't prove it, but I think I have a few commanders who are either not in the right position or are doing just that." Contrary to what Lulltrel had suggested concerning helpful advice, the room was silent. No one appeared to have any suggestions.

"And what are you contemplating?" Lulltrel asked, leaning forward, obviously interested in my answer. I almost laughed as I noticed the others do the same.

"That's sort of related to my other problem." I shrugged. "I had Commander Damon review the last several years of unsolved missing persons cases to determine whether Susan Guzman was an anomaly. When it turned out she wasn't, I had her, with the Commissioner's permission, research the six cases and attempt to build a profile of the missing women. It turns out the women didn't know each other, didn't frequent the same places, and didn't participate in similar group activities like church, sports, or clubs. But we can write a wanted ad that would fit each of them perfectly: young woman who has recently reached her majority, unattached, attractive, enjoys parties, sex, and recreational drugs but is not reckless," I said, noticing Lulltrel and Hadley's deepening frowns while Byrnes and Leyva had slight grins. "Must leave friends and family without a word," I said into the silence.

"What did Commissioner Kinard think?" Lulltrel asked. "Sounds like organized kidnapping."

"He agrees and has assigned a detective to investigate," I said, having talked with Kinard and turned all of Damon's findings over to him. It was, after all, strictly a civilian police matter. He thanked me for keeping my word to turn all my findings over to him for action but wasn't happy about the mess I had given him to deal with.

"It's not a NIA problem but…you wonder…and don't trust…" Lulltrel paused, staring far off in thought while nibbling on her lip. Then she snapped alert. "Commander Spalding, tell Admiral Webb's secretary that Admiral Paulus has an update on the Guzman case." Lulltrel sat drumming her fingers on the table while looking at me. "You want to determine whether this is a local matter or a larger problem, but you know the other system police commissioners aren't going to like the NIA poking its nose into civilian crimes. And even if they would allow us to look, you don't trust the local NIA station chiefs. Is that about right?" she asked. Her eyes were closed and her head was slowly moving back and forth.

"I'm not bored anymore," Hadley quipped.

"I like being bored," Lulltrel said but didn't smile. Lulltrel looked to the back of the room where, to my surprise, Pannell stood. He nodded to some silent exchange with Lulltrel. "Everyone except Paulus is dismissed. Anna, wait for a minute. Unless Admiral Webb is in a Rejuvenation Unit, I think he will want the update right away." She gave me a long, intense stare. "You know you can't fire commanders without some justification, and there is nowhere to move a full commander within the NIA."

"Can I demote them?" I quipped, although in some cases that would be a good thing.

"Not without cause and a lot of paperwork," she said, shaking her head and finally grinning. "The space gods know we have a lot of officers who have been promoted beyond their capabilities." She sobered. "Not you, Anna. No one your age should be able to survive the responsibility I've forced on you…but you have and continue to. In your quiet, unorthodox way, you consistently exceed all my lofty expectations."

I didn't know what to say or feel. I hated the rank and the increasing responsibility. Seeing Lulltrel's eyes, I realized I was kissing Red's small red head. I laughed at Lulltrel's surprise. "As strange as it seems, ma'am, I wouldn't trade Red for a cure to the Coaca Virus."

Before she could respond, Spalding peeked into the room. "Ma'am, Admiral Webb said he was free." Spalding grinned. "Lieutenant Grimes told me he rescheduled a senior captain to be free."

"Guess you're late for your appointment, Paulus," Lulltrel's voice rang with amusement.

"Grimes said the Admiral wanted you, too, ma'am." Spalding couldn't hide the amusement in his voice although he made a valiant effort. Lulltrel rose, shaking her head in resignation. When we arrived, the door was open. We entered, braced to attention, and saluted.

"This must not be good if you didn't want to attend," Webb said, looking at Lulltrel. I know Susan hasn't been found, so what's up, Paulus?" Webb came around his desk and waved toward three chairs sitting off to the side near the wall. "Three coffees, Grimes…one half milk."

"Sir, Commissioner Kinard has been very cooperative and allowed me…" I went on to explain what Damon had found during her investigation. Then I showed him what we determined they had in common. "I know the NIA isn't responsible nor do we have any authority in civil crimes, but I'd like—"

"To poke your nose into their case records and you know they aren't going to like it," Webb said, smiling. "What are you looking for?"

"To determine whether it's a local problem, in which case it is none of my business, or whether it extends beyond the local systems—"

Again Webb interrupted. "In which case it's still not NIA's concern or part of its jurisdiction," he said, watching me. I nodded my agreement, feeling deflated. I was drawn to puzzles like salmon were drawn back to where they were born, to spawn. "That's the bad news; however, when I returned your P1A badge after you had solved the hijackers and marines-for-hire cases, the core committee—the three most influential members of the UAS Committee—wanted to know more about you. They concluded that you have always acted responsibly and that you have excellent analytical skills based on your previous four cases. They reasoned that the committee would need someone like you over time to look into sensitive matters for them. They decided to make your P1A authorization permanent and gave it to me to hold. I'm authorized to give it to you at the committee's request or for any project I deem appropriate. I merely have to inform them of what you are looking into." He walked back to his desk, pulled out an envelope, returned, and handed it to me. I stared at it in shock:

On the first line: PRIORITY ONE AUTHORITY by order of the UAS Committee

On the second line: The UAS Seal

On the third line: Anna Paulus, UAS Special Agent and my picture

On the fourth line: the signatures of the three UAS Core representatives

And on the back of the card was my encoded identification information: DNA, eye scan, and fingerprint information.

"I'll inform the committee you are looking into kidnapping victims for a possible organized criminal link across the UAS," he said as he sat. "And I'll arrange for a cruiser to transport you wherever you need to go."

"Thank you, sir. If you don't object, I'd like to list this trip as an annual review of my NIA stations just in case the problem turns out to be an active criminal enterprise," I said, not wanting to alert anyone to my real purpose. Webb nodded.

"I suggest we don't mention this to General Guzman, unless you want him accompanying you." He gave a small snort. "And although I wouldn't blame him, he would be a hindrance." He paused, giving me an appraising look. "I hope you don't find any links to the other systems. It's bad enough we have a problem on Eastar. But I wouldn't bet against your instincts. Keep Lulltrel informed and she'll keep me up to date."

* * *

"You're very quiet, Daughter," Alexa said when we retired to the living room.

"I told Lulltrel what I was working on at her weekly staff meeting. She decided I needed to brief Webb…" I spent the next hour explaining what had happened.

"Are you going to be all right?" Alexa asked, referring to my capture by the hijackers and my need to sleep in her bed because of my recurring nightmares. To be honest, I wasn't sure. I had always missed Alexa when I was away from home—my sanctuary. But after the ordeal on the FPU cruiser Shark, Alexa was all that kept me sane.

"Mother, have a picture of your face put on a T-shirt for me," I said, knowing it may be silly or childish or a sign I was unstable, but I didn't care. I planned to use it as a cover for my pillow. Alexa must have understood, as she grabbed me in a bear hug and I felt her tears.

"I'll have several made. Keep in touch daily. I don't care the cost," she said finally, holding me at arm's length.

I laughed. "I'll keep in touch with Damon on the pretext of keeping Lulltrel up to date and include a crazy-number encoded message for you. No one will say anything, as I'm an admiral. I'll consider it one of my perks."

* * *

Four days later, I was called to Webb's office. When I arrived, he waved me to one of several padded high-backed chairs where an elderly woman captain sat. She rose as I neared. She stood a good twelve centimeters taller than me and had a thin, wiry build. Short, curly black hair cut just below her ears framed a stern face with bright intelligent eyes that dissected me.

"Elaine, this is Admiral Anna Paulus. Paulus, this is Captain Elaine Martz. She has command of the UAS cruiser Taranis, which is being assigned as your transportation," Webb said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Admiral Paulus. I'm looking forward to our sojourn and hearing the truth behind the many rumors I've heard about your companion." She nodded to Red, who was peeking out from my jacket near my neck.

"I call him Red, and he's my favorite topic," I said, pulling him out of my jacket and holding him up as he wrapped around my arm. She inspected him cautiously. "He never leaves my person, so you will always know where he is."

* * *

Alexa took the next two days off and we shopped, took in shows, and ate out each night, trying to get as much time together as we could since I would be leaving the following day and would probably be gone several months.

"Have you decided which sites you'll visit first?" Alexa asked as we sat on our couch enjoying our last night together. I had my feet touching her warm feet, feeling safe and loved and wanting desperately to hold on to the memory for the many nights to come—alone with the nightmares. Dr. Renata had given me a prescription to help me sleep, but I hoped I could survive without the drugs. My ordeal on the Shark still haunted my dreams. Fortunately, Renata had managed to get assigned to the Taranis medical staff to look after Red and me because of the Coaca Virus.

"My first inclination was to visit Chris and then Adrian since I'm comfortable with them, but Stone Ring and Westar are at opposite ends of UAS space, and I doubt Captain Martz would consider that a reasonable itinerary." I grinned. Alexa nodded agreement. "Being the wimp that I am, I'm still going to start with Chris, then work my way north, stopping at Sudan, Zaspa, Amend, etc. until I reach Westar. Then I'll start back south toward Eastar and home. That should limit our travel time to around thirty-five days."

* * *

Pannell picked me up the next morning at ten, as the Taranis wasn't scheduled to depart Eastar until seventeen hundred hours.

"Why so many?" I asked when I saw Pannell had brought fifteen marines.

"Knowing you, Admiral, I should have brought double that number." He shook his head. "Besides Red being worth a fortune on the black market, you have a tendency to upset really evil people. Actually, I would have brought more except I have the authority to draw on the Taranis's marine contingent. I'm hoping that's enough," he said and didn't smile. I didn't blame him for being paranoid. There had been many attempts on my life over the years, and we both had several purple hearts from the encounters.

We reached the Taranis just after thirteen hundred hours. Pannell took me to the front of the line, which was long, as it contained the last of the crew returning from planet-side leave.

"Permission to come aboard," I said as I approached the Lieutenant Commander on duty. From the look on his face, he had been expecting an admiral, but not one who looked his age and was accompanied by a marine colonel and a fifteen-person security team. He took my identification with a slight smile, probably thinking someone was playing a joke on him. But seconds later he straightened to attention, handed back my paperwork, and saluted.

"Welcome aboard, Admiral Paulus. Commander Shelden is waiting to escort you to your quarters." He nodded toward a tall commander with a closely trimmed full beard and mustache, who stood gazing in my direction.

As I neared with Pannell, he saluted. "Welcome aboard, Admiral Paulus. I'm Commander Shelden, Captain Martz's XO. She apologizes for not being here to meet you, but she's presently preparing the Taranis for departure." He paused, awaiting any comments. I stood stunned that the captain felt she should be present to greet me when I arrived. "I assume you're used to that reaction," he continued, smiling, obviously referring to the duty officer's disbelief.

I nodded. "I don't blame him. I'm about the right age for a fast-tracked lieutenant commander," I said as I followed Shelden.

He gave a hearty laugh. "That may be true, but you have enough medals for a full admiral," he said after a long look at the ribbons on my jacket.

"I'm thinking of dyeing my hair gray and walking bent over," I quipped and bent my shoulders, lowering my head slightly.

"I don't think it will help. We'll just have to get used to it." He gave me a warm smile, and I could feel him relax. "This," he stopped and opened a door into a medium-sized room with an oval table that could accommodate eight to ten persons, "is your conference room." He walked a few steps down the hall and opened another door. "This is your office." The room had a desk and was large enough to accommodate several people. "And this is your quarters," he said, opening the next door, which had what looked like a double-sized commander's room and a private bathroom. "And here," he walked across the hall and opened another door, "is a small dining room where you can have your meals served."

My mind spun. If he opened one more door, I was going to need psychiatric therapy. "Your aide, master chief, and Colonel Pannell also have rooms in this section." He paused, awaiting my comments, but I was speechless and suspected my mouth was hanging open. He didn't notice or ignored my silence and continued. "Captain Martz wanted to invite you to dine with her at twenty hundred hours and wanted me to confirm that our first stop is Stone Ring," Shelden said.

"Thank Captain Martz for the dinner invitation. I look forward to it and answering any questions she may have. And you can confirm Stone Ring is our first destination." I retrieved my tablet and found the note I wanted. "I have a tentative schedule…for you and the Captain. Where should I send it?" I asked.

"Shelden02," he said. I nodded, typed in the address, and touched Send.

* * *

"I appreciate you joining me for dinner," Martz said as I entered her private dining room. My head was still spinning. I was used to it being an honor for me to be invited to dine with the captain. Now it appeared it was an honor for the captain. It might take me longer to learn to think like an admiral than it did to learn adult-speak. "I hope you don't mind that I invited Colonel Russo—the marine commander—and my XO."

"No. But what I tell you is for you three only. It may turn out to be an unnecessary precaution, but I'm a little paranoid. Red," he appeared, as if I had called him, and wound around my neck with his head on my shoulder, "is worth over a quarter million credits, and the last couple of criminals we chased were very vindictive. They didn't like me interfering in their business and decided to retire me early."

"And the reason for your security…" Martz looked to Pannell standing in the back of the room, "and the multiple Purple Hearts," she said, eyes wide, staring at my silver clusters on the ribbon. I nodded.

"Colonel Pannell is an excellent man, but if you need additional help, General Guzman has let me know I'm to support you." Russo laughed. "He said you were small but tough as a battle-hardened gunny, which I took to mean he couldn't intimidate you. That's impressive, since he can melt the buttons on your uniform when he's upset. A good officer, but explosive." Russo was several centimeters shorter than Shelden but wider in the shoulders, and he looked to be all muscle. His hair was cut short and his square face had a weather-worn look.

"Admiral Webb didn't tell me much more than I was to be your chauffeur to transport you anywhere you wanted to go," Martz said. "And that you had P1A authority."

"I'm the Director of the fifteen NIA stations. I'm new and planning to visit each station as a get-acquainted tour. That's true. But the real justification stems from our investigation into the disappearance of General Guzman's daughter…" I went on to explain what we had found. "This trip is an attempt to determine whether those circumstances are unique to Eastar or have wider implications that could indicate a criminal operation across the UAS. That is the reason for the P1A authority."

"And because kidnapping is a civilian crime and not under the navy's jurisdiction," Martz said, lips pursed in thought. "I hope it's not organized crime operating UAS-wide, but I feel a lot better knowing my guest isn't using the Taranis for sightseeing."

Over dinner I learned a little about Russo, Shelden, and Martz.

Russo had joined the marines after compulsory school. Because of his excellent scores at the marine's introductory school, he had been allowed to attend officer training and had qualified. Over his twenty-year career, he had been part of several operations that quelled rebel uprisings. These successful actions had put him on a fast track to Colonel. He had never married, preferring cruiser to planet-side duty.

Commander Shelden had a fairly routine naval career. After graduating college with an engineering degree, he joined the navy. He did well as an engineering officer, and early on, he had a chance to transition to Bridge duty as the navigation officer. He had never been a captain, but a tour as XO on the heavy cruiser, Taranis, would qualify him and put him at the top of the list. He was forty years old and had eighteen years of service. He had been married and had two boys with his ex-wife. They had separated because of his frequent cruiser tours.

Martz, on the other hand, had attended the Navy Academy and graduated in the top one percent of her class before being assigned Bridge duty. She had rotated through all the positions and was made captain well ahead of her peers. She was in her late forties and had been a captain for over ten years. She had never been married, saying it wouldn't be fair on any children.

"It's interesting," Martz said as we sat with our after-dinner drinks. "You're the most talked-about officer in the navy…no, make that the military, yet you are the least known. Most of the tales come from people who never met you but heard it from someone who also never knew you." She laughed.

"My parents died of the Coaca Virus. I caught it too…" I went on to explain about Red finding me and my early years. I also talked about the hijacking and marines-for-hire cases since they were recent and of special interest to everyone present.

"That explains the problem. NIA doesn't publicize its cases or its people's involvement; therefore, people have to speculate based on hearsay. The hijackers are a good example. The vids had plenty about the navy's involvement but nothing about NIA. They made it sound like we magically found and destroyed them."

* * *

The next day Martz invited me to her staff meeting, introduced me, and made it clear I was welcome on the Bridge. Colonel Russo also invited me to a meeting of his senior people and made it sound like I was General Guzman's friend and was welcome in the marine area.

"I'm not sure what your duties are on this trip, but I thought it was better than you sitting with nothing to do on Eastar," I said as I met with Banner and Stamm the next day over breakfast in my private dining room.

"Run interference, errands, and anything else you need done, ma'am," Stamm said, smiling. "Sailing with an admiral is a treat. A heavy cruiser and a suite of rooms."

"As this is a working trip, I think you'll find things for us to do," Banner said as he sat a cup of coffee down in front of me.

"Our first stop is Stone Ring. Commander Sinclair is the NIA chief and a person I consider my adopted older sister. We were teammates on the Smugglers and Raiders projects. At each station I'm going to need an appointment with the police commissioner." I went on to explain I hoped they would cooperate without having to use my P1A authority. "That part of my visit isn't to go further than the NIA chiefs."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Star System: Stone Ring – Adopted Sister

When I departed the Taranis, Chris was waiting with a warm smile. As I approached her expecting a hug, she straightened to attention and raised her hand in a salute which she held, waiting. I was so shocked, I didn't immediately return her salute. When I did, she completed the salute, raced toward me, and grabbed me in a hug, which I melted into. I loved Chris like a blood sister.

She held me at arm's length. "My little sister an admiral. It's ironic. I remember saying I thought Adrian would make admiral and drag you and me to commodore, and here it's my little sister who made admiral." She hugged me again, ignoring Red, who lay on my shoulder. "It's great to see you and Red. I recognize Paul, but who are the others?"

"Lieutenant Banner, my aide-de-camp, and Master Chief Stamm, my mentor," I said, nodding to each. "Men, this is my best friend and adopted big sister who looked after a very naive juvenile's first several years in the navy."

"Ma'am, you did a great job," Stamm said, giving Chris a salute.

"Ma'am, I'm here to learn from her," Banner said, also giving Chris a salute.

"I can tell you her secret." Chris smiled at me. "She doesn't care about rank. She would be much happier as a Lieutenant Commander, but the NIA needs her as an admiral." She linked her arm in mine. "Come, let's go to the NIA office and you can tell me the real reason you're here."

* * *

"You think it's a UAS issue, not just an Eastar problem?" Chris asked after I had explained Susan Guzman's disappearance and the results of our investigation. "And you'd like to talk to the Stone Ring police commissioner."

"I don't have enough information at the moment to know, but it might be. The profile makes it feel like someone was recruiting women, except they go missing without a trace. In any case, it's a good excuse to visit my big sister and to see if I can resolve the issue one way or the other."

Chris arranged for a meeting with the police commissioner for the next day, then gave me a tour of the Stone Ring operation ending with a meeting of her entire staff. Each person gave me a short biography and then briefed me on what they were currently working on. I, in turn, talked about Red and recounted a few instances when Chris had been Red's nanny. It was a fun day. That night I got to meet Chris's fiancé.

"Well, I finally found the father of my future children," Chris said when a tall man with curly, sandy-colored hair covering his ears and a round, pleasant face entered later that evening. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, a few pounds overweight, but fit. "Anna, meet Nick," Chris said as Nick stuck out his hand.

"I'm delighted to meet you, Anna. Chris talks about you and her experiences all the time. Sounded like exciting times."

"Nice to meet you, Nick. The history version is exciting, but it ignores the adrenaline-pumping, heart-pounding panic during the events," I said.

"Anna's talking about my heart, not hers. She's a deadly shot and cool under fire," Chris said, giving me a hug. "We haven't set a date yet, but you're my bridesmaid, so be careful."

"Oh, your promotion party was terrific. When Chris found out you were promoted to admiral, she threw a party for you. It included our friends and the NIA office staff. We videotaped it for you, since you couldn't be there," Nick said and gave me a warm smile. We spent the next several hours watching the tape, and the two gave me a running commentary on who was who.

After Nick left, we talked well into the night, and afterward she insisted I share her bed.

"We'll fight the nightmares together, Anna," she said, pulling me into her room. I didn't argue. I could manage the days, but the nights were difficult. Pills helped me to sleep but didn't stop the nightmares.

* * *

"Commander Sinclair told me you were an admiral," Commissioner Fisher said, looking at me with a critical glare. I had dressed in civilian clothes since it wasn't officially a naval issue.

"I didn't want to confuse my visit as having anything to do with the defense department. Missing persons is rightly a civil matter for the police."

"Then why are you here?" His face contained a hint of anger and his voice was just short of a growl.

"My involvement started because a marine's daughter went missing…" I went through the events slowly and in detail. "Police Commissioner Kinard agreed that what we discovered on Eastar appears to be a case of organized kidnapping. What I'm trying to determine is whether it's strictly an Eastar problem or prevalent on other UAS systems."

"What's the difference? It's still a local police matter." He leaned forward, preparing to defend his domain's authority.

"Yes and no—"

His fist slammed down on his desk, causing a stack of folders to tip, and several slid off the desk and scattered across the floor. His flare of anger seemed to make him even madder, and he stood with his fists on the desk leaning toward me.

"Yes, it's your responsibility to investigate the issue of the missing women on Stone Ring. I'm not asking to investigate those cases. Like on Eastar, I'm sure your people have thoroughly investigated each one. I'm asking to see whether it's possible some of your missing persons are women who meet specific criteria we identified on Eastar and could potentially be part of an organized criminal group acting across the UAS. If that is true, you have no authority to pursue the issue. But I would think you would be interested in knowing whether you have a similar problem or one that is much broader in scope," I said, ignoring him standing with his fists on his desk and glaring down at me.

"Who the hell do you think you are poking your nose into police business? I don't give a shit if you are an admiral or not. You have no authority here." His face was flushed red.

"I gather that means your image is more important than your responsibility to protect the citizens of Stone Ring," I said as Red made his grand entrance and wrapped around my neck with his head facing the chief. Fisher stood frowning at me for a long time. Then he sat.

"You’re the NIA agent who was responsible for catching those rogue marines. Don't remember anyone mentioning your name, but I do remember them mentioning a red-headed snake," Fisher said. "What do you want?"

"Just to examine your missing persons over the last five years. I'm looking for women who went missing without a trace and fit a specific profile." I went on to describe the common factors.

"How many do you expect to find?" Fisher asked, looking deep in thought. "Those aren't normally the ones that go missing."

"I hope I find none, which would mean it is a problem unique to Eastar. Otherwise, none four to five years ago, maybe one or two three years ago, two or three last year, and maybe one or two this year."

Fisher tapped on his tablet. "Marie, tell Detective Tyler I want to see him." He gave me a long, considering look. "Sorry, NIA worked well with us on the marine problem. I just get so tired of civilians thinking we don't know what we are doing and feel they have the right to review our case files." He stopped when there was a knock at the door. "Come."

A short, overweight man who looked to be in his fifties, with thinning hair and a sagging face, entered. "Yes, sir. Marie said you wanted to see me."

"Gerry, this is…Anna Paulus. I want you to help her review our missing persons cases for the past five years. She's looking to identify missing women who meet specific criteria." He looked to me.

"Yes, sir. I'll report back to you with what we find and my conclusions," I said to assure him I had no secret agenda.

* * *

For two full days, Gerry, Chris, and I went through the one hundred sixty-three missing persons case files. We identified four cases: one three years ago, two last year, and one this year. At the end of the second day, I reported our findings to the commissioner.

"That's interesting. I wouldn't have thought we would have had more than one isolated case fitting those specific conditions." Fisher paused to look at the four case files. "What conclusion have you come to?"

"Like on Eastar, your detectives conducted a thorough investigation of each case. But it appears that whatever is happening is not isolated to Eastar, and I doubt to Stone Ring either. Whether it's attributable to organized crime or not is yet to be determined. But in any case, I will keep you informed as to what I find."

I left on good terms with Commissioner Fisher and was pleased I didn't have to use my P1A authority.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Star System: Sudan - Games

We arrived on Sudan two days later and were met by a young lieutenant who escorted us to the NIA offices.

"Ma'am, Commander Steward ask me to take you to the conference room and get you anything you wanted to drink. When the lieutenant opened the door, the room was full. Banner stepped in and shouted Attention. Chairs shot backward as people shot up and braced to attention. Scanning the room, I noticed that Commander Steward wasn't present.

"Maybe Commander Steward is in Rejuv," Stamm said loud enough to be heard by everyone. The quiet in the room resembled a morgue.

The young lieutenant broke the silence. "Admiral, the commander said he had some urgent business to attend to," he said in a rush. His voice sounded nervous and two octaves higher than normal.

"Your name, lieutenant?" I asked while I considered the situation. Commander Steward was one of my station commanders that I thought was playing games with me or was just incompetent. The problem was what I should do about his breach of manners. I couldn't have him up on charges, because he would have some excuse why he had to be late. It was a clever tactic, because everyone would know his intent was a deliberate insult. And he probably would enjoy me reprimanding him in public, thinking he could make me look childish—he would make my age, size, and gender work to his advantage with subtle inferences that conveniently didn't constitute insubordination or unbecoming conduct.

"Hines, ma'am." His voice squeaked. I couldn't blame him. He was the messenger and the most likely to catch all the grief due his commander.

"Lieutenant Hines, you can tell Commander Steward his attendance isn't required. He's excused from this meeting to conclude his urgent business. I'll meet with him tomorrow morning at eight hundred hours in his office." I paused to look around the room. "Oh, Lieutenant, tell Commander Steward those are not suggestions. Those are orders." After Hines dashed out of the room, I looked around at everyone still braced to attention, their eyes staring straight ahead. "I apologize. At ease and sit. Who is the senior officer present?"

"I am ma'am," a sturdy middle-aged woman said as she rose. She had a matronly figure, ear-length auburn hair, and a round face that looked nervous but eager. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Alston."

"Thanks to the commander's urgent business, you have become the Sudan NIA Station Chief for the day. I'd like to know everything there is to know about the Sudan NIA Station—its people, projects, challenges, and real or potential problems. No fluff, please." I waved for her to take the vacant seat at the head of the table while I took hers.

It was an interesting six hours and didn't break up until eight in the evening, largely because I asked lots of questions. Afterward, I treated everyone to a dinner at a local restaurant where I discussed Red and the marines-for-hire project, which had involved each of the systems.

"Lieutenant Banner, work with Commander Alston to get me an appointment with whoever is in charge of the Sudan police. Keep the reason vague but related to Eastar and Stone Ring."

* * *

"I don't appreciate being treated like a lieutenant, Paulus," Steward said as I entered his office. Pannell entered with me.

"That's Admiral Paulus or ma'am, Commander Steward. The question is whether you are stupid or incompetent, because even a dim-witted lieutenant knows enough not to pick a fight with an admiral. It's a fight you can't win even if you're right," I said as I sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. "I don't care whether you like me or not. Neither case would affect my evaluation of you. All I care about is how well you carry out your assigned position."

"I've always gotten excellent reviews from Commander Wright. And although I was the most qualified for the Eastar NIA station chief position, you picked Damon, who is my junior in rank and has less time in service. It demonstrates your prejudice against men and you ignored time-in-grade, probably because you never earned your promotions the way the rest of us did," he said in an angry rush. That caused Pannell to move away from the wall he had been leaning against. I shook my head at him.

"Even if that were true, I'm an admiral and you're a commander." I paused, pursing my lips in thought. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Commander. Explain to Colonel Pannell your urgent business yesterday and if he feels that justified you canceling a meeting with an admiral who also happens to be your boss, I'll make a public apology to your staff. If not, we should discuss your retirement plans."

* * *

"Ma'am, you have an appointment with the Sudan Police Commissioner this afternoon at thirteen hundred hours," Alston said when I left Steward's office.

"Thank you, Commander. I'm appointing you acting Sudan NIA Station Chief. Commander Steward has decided to retire, and I've reluctantly accepted his retirement request," I said, not interested in belittling the man. We'll meet tomorrow to discuss what I'd like you to do while I consider a replacement."

"Yes, ma'am." Alston saluted and left, her steps bouncing a little as she walked.

"Ma'am, thank you for taking me along. This is the reason I wanted to be an aide-de-camp to you. Watching you work is amazing. I thought Steward had set you up perfectly and you turned the tables on him," Banner said, excited.

"Our priorities were different. His priority was his image while mine was work. My goal was to understand the operation of the Sudan NIA station. I didn't need Steward at the meeting to do that. His people are the best indicator of how well the site is functioning, not Steward. In fact, the meeting went much better without him there posturing."

"You made a good choice, Lieutenant. This is the best assignment I've had in the navy. Admiral Paulus is young and petite but five steps ahead of everyone. Can you just picture it? The Commander getting ready to enter the meeting late, letting everyone know he's in charge, not the young girl impersonating an admiral, then being told he's not needed and where and when to be ready for his interview. That had to be worse than the Hindenburg disaster." Stamm let out a small chuckle.

* * *

"Commander Alston led me to believe you were an admiral," LaPlante said, frowning at me from behind his sturdy oak desk. He looked in excellent condition for his seventy-plus years. His brown hair, thick although receding a bit at the temples. He looked soft but had no extra weight, and his face was smooth and relatively free of the normal signs of aging. Part of his confusion, besides my age, was that I had dressed in a blue pantsuit rather than a navy uniform.

"This isn't navy business and I didn't want to imply it was." I held up a hand to preclude him from asking the obvious question. "It started with a missing daughter of a marine officer…" I went on to explain what we found on Eastar and Stone Ring.

"Interesting. You aren't interested in reviewing our case files but in determining whether Sudan has similar missing women." He paused to take a sip of his coffee while looking off into space. "Quite frankly, I'm interested too. If we do, it's likely kidnapping, a UAS problem, and the women are no longer on the planet where they went missing," he said, as if thinking aloud. I thought he was right on all counts. He was very cooperative, and a day and a half later we had identified four women who met the profile: one three years before, two last year, and one only a few weeks before.

"Banner, have the Comm Officer send the following message to Vice Admiral Lulltrel after converting it to Crazy Numbers," I said, giving the message one last look before forwarding it to him. Then I sent him the encryption program I had created years before, which was now a standard NIA program used for private messages.

To: Vice Admiral Lulltrel

Working with the police chiefs on Eastar, Stone Ring, and Sudan we have identified fourteen women who met the Magic Act criteria we established on Eastar: six on Eastar, four on Stone Ring, and four on Sudan. Since the missing persons are not navy personnel, the NIA has no authority to investigate; however, while the current sample is insufficient to conjecture on the reason, I believe there is sufficient evidence to conclude it's a potential UAS problem and requires further investigation. Please advise.

From: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

"How do I use…Crazy Numbers?" Banner asked.

"Activate it, then give it the name of the file you want converted," I said. I could have converted it myself, but since he was my aide, I felt he should be aware of what I was doing so long as it wasn't personal or restricted information. He left on a run for the Bridge.

"What do you think, ma'am?" Carl asked, nodding toward the door.

"He's eager and smart. I'm not sure following me will help his career, but he seems to think so," I said, having never tried to plan for the future. Focusing on today involved far less stress.

"He will never be able to emulate you, but I think he's smart enough to learn from you and that can't help but make him a better officer," Stamm said. I wasn't sure what Stamm thought I could teach him, but I hoped he was right.

* * *

"Ma'am, you have a reply back from Admiral Lulltrel," Banner said as he burst into the dining room and placed his tablet on the table next to me.

I looked down at a page of numbers and symbols. "Banner, why don't you translate it so I can read it?" I smiled and took another mouthful of my scrambled eggs.

"Yes ma'am, how?" he asked, looking at the page as if it would tell him.

"Click on Crazy Numbers, then give it the name of the file. The program will recognize it's encoded and translate it."

A minute later, he laid the tablet next to me.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Since you are bored, Admiral Webb and I have decided you should continue to investigate unofficially. Admiral Webb will discuss it with the UAS Committee. Enjoy.

From: Vice Admiral Lulltrel

Director, NIA

"Ma'am, is this a good or bad thing?" Banner asked.

"I told Lulltrel I was bored." I grinned. "So it's a good thing, since I now have something to do and won't be bored. In addition, I love puzzles and this one appears to be an interesting one."

"You told your boss you were bored." He shook his head.

"It's one of many conundrums concerning our boss. She doesn't care about promotions and yet she's the youngest admiral in the fleet," Stamm said with a shrug. "And she ignores tradition while somehow complying with it. If she isn't careful, she's going to replace Lulltrel—"

"Carl, don't even joke about that in private! Although I admit I enjoyed being the Eastar NIA Station Chief, I'm not sure I like being an admiral, and I'm positive I'd hate being a vice admiral."

CHAPTER NINE

Star System: Zaspa – Old Friends

My folks are dying to meet you, ma'am," Newman said as we sat in his office. "My people think I'm excessively detailed, as I won't allow them to make unsupported assumptions. You taught me how assumptions can lead one down the wrong path. In fact, just recently we would have missed catching a robbery suspect if we hadn't been thorough. I know for sure that if I had transferred out of Eastar, I wouldn't have made a very good station commander," he said, making eye contact.

"Officially, I'm on a tour of the NIA stations. A get-acquainted tour. But my overriding issue is…" I went on to explain what I had discovered to date. "You can help Lieutenant Banner get me a meeting with the police commissioner and stay in touch with him to monitor developments after I leave."

We spent the rest of the day with his staff and getting to know the Zaspa station projects and people. It was a fun day. Newman and his people were open and candid, and there seemed to be no problems.

* * *

Commissioner MacGregor was a bear of a man with a full beard and a loud voice to match his size.

"Let me see if I understand." He paused, stroking his beard and frowning. "You're a senior member of the NIA but the matter you want to look into is a local civilian matter where NIA has no authority. Is that accurate?"

"Yes and no. Missing persons is a local matter for which the NIA has no jurisdiction or authority to investigate. And I'm not interested in reviewing your missing person cases. I'm interested in sharing what I've found working with the police on Eastar, Stone Ring, and Sudan, as it may be helpful in determining whether you are experiencing the same types of cases. My interest is not local, but I need to determine whether we have a UAS problem," I said, leaving out the detail, hoping to get him interested.

"I could force you to go to court and I doubt you would win." His frown continued, but I detected amusement. His eyes widened as Red decided to join the discussion, wrapping around my neck. "Ah, that Paulus. The one who uncovered the marines-for-hire syndicate. All right, tell me what you found and what you'd like me to do for you."

"It began with Susan Guzman…"

"I can't believe we found five cases that met your criteria," he said as we sat in his office late the following night. "And you discovered this…trend after looking at only one missing person's case." He stopped to sip his dark beer. "What do you make of it?"

"Insufficient data to say at this point. From what data I do have, I'd say the missing women are no longer on the planet where they went missing; they were physically or mentally coerced to leave, and the profile is an important factor in their selection."

CHAPTER TEN

Star Systems: Amend – Smooth Sailing

The four days on Amend went smoothly. Commander Devries put on a comprehensive show and tell. He was a very straightforward person and appeared to have a well-run station. He was smart and had no signs of resentment toward a young woman fourteen years his junior as a boss or as an admiral. In fact, his curiosity matched mine, and we got along well. He was particularly interested in how I'd discovered the new trend in missing women. In fact, he was so interested he accompanied me to see Commissioner Crowe and worked with me to identify three women who met the search criteria: none three years before, two last year, and one this year.

I felt good by the time I left Amend. I wanted to meet my direct reports but also hoped to encourage them to notice what was going on around them and to question what they didn't understand.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Star Systems: Oxax – Homecoming

I ate with Captain Martz twice during the four-day trip to Oxax.

"How is your tour going, ma'am?" Martz asked after our second dinner. Both of us were amused at her calling me ma'am since she was old enough to be my mother, but military protocol required it when we weren't alone.

"Being the Chief of the NIA Stations is a new responsibility for me, and I felt I had to meet my direct reports and get a feel for what goes on at their stations. The missing persons puzzle has given me a reason to visit them and provides a cover to keep my investigation a secret until I can find the answer."

"How are you doing with the puzzle?" Martz asked, sipping her wine as she awaited my reply.

"It's safe to say it's not a local problem, but I'm no closer to understanding what is going on."

"Kidnapping," Shelden said, and Martz and Russo nodded agreement.

"Seems obvious, but why? There have been no ransoms demands; sex traffickers would be looking for younger girls; and why over the age of majority if you are kidnapping them? And then there is the question of physical or mental coercion."

"Coercion?" Russo asked.

"What would you be willing to do if you knew for certain I would kill your family—children, spouse, parents, siblings—if you refused?" I asked. "Right now, I know little more than that the disappearances appear to be prevalent across a large section of the UAS and the specific criteria the women must meet."

"I, for one, hope you discover the answer before the tour is over," Martz said, and I could feel her empathy for the women.

"And find General Guzman's daughter," Russo said. Although Guzman was clearly volatile, his officers appeared to think highly of him.

* * *

I exited the shuttle on Oxax with a feeling of nostalgia. Oxax had been my birth planet, where my mother, father, and I caught the deadly Coaca Virus that killed them, where I had been adopted by Red and later Alexa, and where I had joined NIA and met Adrian and Chris. A torrent of good and bad memories assaulted me like a tsunami, and I stood paralyzed.

"Are you all right?" Paul asked, leaning close to me while scanning the area, trying to determine why I had stopped so suddenly.

"I wonder what migrating animals feel when they return home, Paul," I said, not expecting an answer. "A place where you belong, or peace, or just a release from the pull that drew you back?"

"A place that made you what you are today," Paul said, surprising me. Paul didn't talk a lot. He was my stoic sentinel, who I loved like a dear uncle. "I think you have someone waiting to greet you."

When I focused, I saw a tall, wiry commander approaching. He was average height, walked with a bounce, and had a boyish looking face with an unruly head of red hair that just covered his ears. He stopped and saluted.

"Good morning, Admiral Paulus. Welcome to Oxax. I'm Commander O'Brian." He smiled with genuine enthusiasm and interest. "I don't know if you remember me. I was here when you were chasing the marines-for-hire group and they blew up one of the conference rooms where Admiral Rawls and Commodore Stauffer were planning to meet with you."

"It's nice to see you, Commander O'Brian," I said trying to get my mind back on the business at hand. "I think we are safe this time, at least for now," I said. He smiled, thinking I was joking. I wasn't.

I spent the morning filling him in on the real reason I was touring the NIA stations, and the afternoon and next day with him and his people. Again, I treated everyone to dinner at one of the local restaurants. I had found that the more informal the environment, the more people relaxed, and the more likely I was to get to know the people and what they really thought and felt. Oxax appeared to be in good hands. O'Brian got me an appointment with Commissioner Weaver the following morning.

"Commissioner Weaver, this is Admiral Paulus, my boss," O'Brian said after we had entered his very spacious office on the tenth floor of the police headquarters building. It was a no-nonsense looking office: a large but plain wooden desk, several steel chairs for guests, a small bookshelf packed with police and legal manuals, and a small table with a coffee pot, condiments, and cups.

"I remember you used to work here when Commodore Stauffer was in charge of the group," Weaver said, coming around from his desk. "You were on the team that cracked the Smuggler and Hijacking cases."

"Yes, sir. Those were interesting times." I shook the hand he had extended. He waved to the table with the coffee. "Help yourself to coffee. O'Brian tells me you're chasing kidnappers."

"It appears that way…" I spent the morning explaining what we had found so far and the afternoon and the evening going through the two hundred cases dating back over the previous five years. We discovered six cases: one four years before, one three years before, two last year, and two more this year.

I left Oxax pleased with how the station was being run, with O'Brian, and knowing O'Brian and Commissioner Weaver would be cooperating in the investigation. We left for Fire Rock the next morning.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Star System: Undisclosed - Selections

"That blond from Amend has great boobs. She looks like she has prize-winning watermelons stuffed under her sweater—and they have a mesmerizing bounce. I'll bet she has men walking into walls and tripping over their feet when she passes them. Wives must envy and hate her," Lucio said and made a panting noise with his tongue hanging out. Although he was dressed neatly in an open-necked silk shirt, tailored slacks, and his mustache and goatee neatly trimmed, his black eyes looked predatory rather than admiring.

"Yes, most men would ogle and fantasize about having her in bed with them, but she's tall and broad in the shoulders and hips. When faced with a real-life decision, I would think most men would find her intimidating," Silas said as he split the screen into thirds. He was a small man with a round, clean-shaven face, very ordinary except for his penetrating eyes that sparkled with intelligence and were anything but plain.

The screen divided into three frames, and the blond they had been discussing remained displayed in frame one. He pulled down a menu in the second frame and clicked on Truth Star, then clicked on another menu, where he scrolled through facial pictures until he found the one he wanted and clicked on her image. When he did, the picture of a woman of average height and an hourglass figure appeared in frame two. Then he moved to frame three, clicked on Safe Harbor, and again scrolled through the facial pictures until he found the one he wanted. Another woman, smaller than the one in the second frame but with an equally good figure, appeared. He allowed everyone in the room several minutes to look at the three images, which were displayed on each of the four monitors in the room.

Then he moved the cursor back to the second frame and clicked on an arrow in the upper right-hand corner. Several seconds later, the woman's picture disappeared and was replaced with a video of her walking, then dancing at a nightclub, then several more clips including one where she was engaged in sex with a young, athletic-looking man. He replaced the vid with her picture and then clicked into frame three and repeated the process. When the vid finished, he went back to frame one with the big-breasted blond and activated her vid. Afterward, with the images of the three women showing, he finally spoke.

"I would prefer one of the less-endowed women from either Truth Star or Safe Harbor," he said. "Either one would be a better long-term investment."

"I tend to agree with Silas," Micah said, and Jamar nodded agreement. Micah was a big man in height and build who looked like an elderly statesman with his gray hair and clean-shaven smooth, angular face. Jamar, on the other hand, was wiry and had the predatory face of a hawk, with his hooked nose, short-cut black hair, and black eyes.

"I still like the blond," Lucio said, and Stefan nodded agreement.

"Where is the blond in frame one from?" Tashia asked, staring at the monitor in the back of the room. She was dressed all in black: leather pants, silk long-sleeved blouse, and leather calf-length booths. She sat off to the side as if she weren't part of the group.

"Eastar," Jules said after pulling down one of the menus.

"How many have we had from Eastar this year and last?" she asked. The eye not hidden by her long black hair looked closed, as if she were sleeping or bored.

"Three last year and two this year," Jules said, looking back toward her.

"Then she's not up for consideration. In fact, no more from Eastar this year," she said softly, as if thinking out loud.

"Why?" Lucio asked angrily as he turned to look back at her.

"I'd prefer to not to disturb the sleeping pit bull," Tashia said in a lazy voice.

"Are you referring to that young NIA commander?" Lucio asked but didn't wait for an answer, continuing before she could. "Why would she be interested?"

"Because we selected a general's daughter." Tashia didn't move nor change the tone of her voice, sounding bored.

"NIA has no authority to look into civil crimes," Vito said. He was currently a sergeant in the police force. "Besides, the commissioner wouldn't like her poking her nose into his turf."

"Eastar is off-limits. That dog's dangerous, and I don't want her sniffing around us," she said with a slight shake of her head, as if ending the discussion.

Lucio stood defiantly. "I like that blond. I'm not afraid of some young NIA bitch."

Tashia shook her head and the hair covering half her face fell to the side, revealing partially hooded black eyes. "Sit down, Lucio. My suggestions aren't open for negotiation…unless, of course, you're ready to take my position." Her face brightened with obvious pleasure. Lucio turned and sat without a word. Tashia's eyes closed again.

"All right, we vote on the two remaining women," Efrain said. Everyone picked up their tablets and began typing.

After several minutes, Jules spoke. "The official vote is four for Safe Harbor and two for Truth Star." When no one commented, he continued. "We have six brunette candidates." He began typing on his tablet. The monitors split into six frames and one by one, the frames were filled with an image of each woman.

"We only need two for now," Tashia's bored voice spoke and all faces turned toward the monitors…

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Star Systems: Fire Rock

A Lieutenant Commander in his early thirties stood waiting as we exited the shuttle on Fire Rock. He was clean-shaven and looked fit in his dress blues. He saluted as I approached.

"Good morning, Admiral Paulus. I'm Lieutenant Commander Taber, your Fire Rock NIA Station Chief. I thought I'd meet you and escort you wherever you would like to go."

I was moderately surprised when he didn't appear to react to my age. Of course, by now everyone knew of my small size and young age, but hearing I was young and seeing me for the first time usually provoked a noticeable reaction.

"Thank you, Commander Taber. I'd like to start at the NIA office, but I need to arrange a meeting with the police commissioner while I'm on Fire Rock. I'd appreciate it if you could help Lieutenant Banner arrange a meeting as soon as possible," I said. Taber had his staff on notice, and after I briefed him on my investigation of the missing women, he called a general meeting of all personnel. It lasted all day and into the early evening. I learned about the station and the people, and they had an opportunity to learn about Red and their new admiral. The meeting with the Police Commissioner was set for the next day.

* * *

"I thought Commander Taber said some navy VIP wanted to speak with me about missing persons," Commissioner Higgins said from behind an oversized glass-topped desk, where he sat smoking a cigar. The smell was pungent, and the room was filled with a smoky haze. He sneered while I prepared for what was sure to follow. "You look more like an ensign."

"Sir, I'm with the Navy Intelligence Agency—"

"That don't cut no shit with me. Missing persons is a civilian matter and no business of the navy. It involves real detective work and not sneaking around spying on people. Case files are for the police and not for civilians…or wet-nosed ensigns to poke around in."

"Sir, I don't want to review your missing persons case files, just to determine whether Fire Rock has a specific class of women being targeted—"

"First, girly, my detectives have thoroughly investigated every missing person's case. They would know if specific women were being targeted. Since they don't, we don't have whatever problem you think the other systems have. Secondly, you aren't qualified to be a detective, and lastly, civilians aren't authorized access to police case files. While you all think you're smarter than us, you're not."

"Sir, I've worked with the police commissioners on Eastar, Stone Ring, Sudan, Amend, and Oxax. On each system we identified missing women who met a specific profile. I'm trying to see if it's a UAS problem and not a local—"

"The problem doesn’t exist on Fire Rock, or I would know about it." He stopped to take another puff of his cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke with a satisfying grin. "Tell you what, girly. I don't much like the navy. As far as I'm concerned, they are a bunch of overpaid bus drivers. We'd be better off cutting their budget and giving it to the local police agencies who are actually fighting crime." He gave me a satisfying screw you look. "I'm sure if the UAS committee thought there was a problem, they would appoint one of the systems' police commissioners to investigate. And if the navy were really interested, they wouldn't send some female ensign. You're just seeking fame and glory by trying to make a mountain out of an anthill." He waved for me to leave.

"I take it you would have no problem cooperating with a person who had UAS authority?" I asked, deciding option one—interest—wasn't working, which meant option two—force—was now on the table.

He gave me a hard look, then laughed. "When you get UAS approval to mess in police matters, I'll resign." His voice rang with amusement. He was still laughing when I reached his office door, opened it, and waved Colonel Pannell in. He stepped in and closed the door.

"You bitch. You think some marine is going to intimidate me?" Higgins shouted as he rose from behind his desk with his hand resting on the butt of a multifunctional handgun. His face turned red in twisted rage. I turned and walked back toward Higgins, placing myself between him and Pannell to get his attention and to stop any further knee-jerk reaction.

"No, the colonel is here to witness your retirement," I said, holding up my P1A authorization.

Higgins stood wide-eyed, looking at the P1A card, then stumbled backward. "Why didn't you say so?" he asked in a lowered voice.

"I didn't need to with the other police commissioners. They were interested in knowing whether they had a similar problem as Eastar and concerned that someone might be targeting specific women. Their egos weren't threatened by listening to a suggestion from the NIA," I said, and before he could recover his voice, I continued. "I'm ordering you under P1A authority to direct your lead missing persons detective to cooperate with me in reviewing your last five years of missing persons cases." I locked eyes with him. "And it's not girly. It's UAS Special Agent Paulus, or Admiral Paulus, or ma'am."

Thirteen hours later, Detective Linus, with help from several others in his department, Banner, and I had identified five missing women who met the profile we had developed.

"Looks like it started only last year here on Fire Rock," Linus said as we finished reviewing the last case file. "You don't think these women are still on Fire Rock?" he asked.

"No. None of the twenty-eight women we've identified prior to Fire Rock have been located," I said.

"Dead?"

"I don't think so. The narrow criteria would suggest they were selected for a specific reason."

"Selected for what reason?"

"That, Detective Linus, is the crucial question."

* * *

"Admiral Paulus, there is a message addressed to you from Admiral Lulltrel," the Comm Officer said when I answered the door to my office on board the Taranis. "It didn't say urgent, but I thought any message from a vice admiral was wise to treat as such. It looks like it got scrambled in transmission so I assumed it's in code, which is another good reason to treat it as urgent."

"Thanks, Commander. A message from your boss is always urgent even when it's not." I grinned. "Send it to my tablet." When he did, I ran Crazy Numbers and smiled at the terse message:

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

The UAS Committee has decided it's Webb's responsibility since he brought it to their attention. Webb has decided it's an NIA project, since the messenger of the bad news works for me. And rather than shoot the bearer of bad news, I've decided to let her resolve the problem. Give it a project name and keep me informed.

From: Vice Admiral Lulltrel

Director, NIA

I laughed, as it was what I had expected and consistent with what I thought my responsibilities. "Banner, send the following message to Admiral Lulltrel," I said while smiling. "Magic act."

"Magic act?" Stamm asked while Banner stood frowning in thought.

"Yes, like where the magician makes his pretty assistant disappear without a trace. And it now our job to make her reappear."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Star System: Oasis – A Reminder

The trip to Oasis took three and a half days. I wondered at the possible significance of both Oxax and Fire Rock each having a missing woman that met the profile four years ago. So far none of the southern systems I had visited had any activity older than three years. Interesting, but too early to draw any conclusions.

"Ma'am, what are you expecting in Oasis?" Banner asked the next morning at breakfast in my private dining room.

"Nothing, David. My early years were very difficult—my parents' death, the Coaca Virus, a venomous krait that both isolated me and made me the objective of thieves and others with the virus. To survive, I found thinking about the future was…stressful and something I couldn't control. Consequently, I decided to try to get the most out of each day and not to worry about tomorrow. That has served me well and is now part of who I am. So, to answer your question, I have no expectations about Oasis, the results of my survey of the systems, or of dinner with the captain this evening," I said, having a flashback of life in my foster homes and the attempts to steal Red. "The trick, David, is not to set your expectations on the outcome of an event. When bad things happen, it's disappointing and even painful. But if you strongly wanted one outcome over another, it can make the result even worse when it happens. For example, you're eligible for promotion and expect it to happen on the next round. If you aren't promoted, you will be very upset, whereas if you had no expectations of when you would be promoted, you would have no reason to be upset."

"Does that mean you don't plan ahead?"

"What's that old military saying? 'Plans seldom survive contact with the enemy.' I think it should be 'Plans seldom survive contact with reality.'" I saw Pannell nod unconsciously as well as Stamm. "You can make tentative plans. Just don't fall in love with them."

"An interesting philosophy, ma'am," Banner said and was silent for the rest of the meal.

* * *

No one met us at the shuttle landing pad. Since the NIA office was on the outskirts of Oasis and had a landing pad, Pannell had arranged for two military shuttles. The ride only took ten minutes. When we cleared security, a commander was waiting. He didn't salute, as it wasn't required in the lobby. "Admiral Paulus, I'm Commander Sauer, your Oasis NIA Station Chief," he said in a normal voice. His face was a passive mask.

"It's nice to meet you, Commander Sauer. I'm looking forward to a tour of your domain. Oasis is one of the stations I've never had a chance to visit," I said as I followed Sauer to the elevators.

"There is little reason for the Director of NIA Stations to visit the individual stations, is there?" His voice never changed from a normal conversational tone, but the inference was clear—you're young and inexperienced.

"I like to meet the people actually doing the heavy lifting and let them know the NIA appreciates their efforts," I said, ignoring his insinuation. If he had a problem with me, it was his problem and I didn't want it.

"You want to meet each person?" He had trouble maintaining his cool neutral voice.

"A staff meeting with everyone present will do. I like to be able to put a name to a face."

"I hadn't thought anyone of your rank would want to meet everyone," he said again in that normal tone that was meant to be incredulous without sounding belittling. Quite good, I thought.

"While you are getting your people together, I'd like a one-on-one with you and for you to have someone arrange a meeting with the Police Commissioner," I said, again ignoring his attempt to intimidate me.

"Why the Police Commissioner? He doesn't report to the NIA." This time he had trouble maintaining his superiority tone.

"Actually, Commander Sauer, my primary reason for visiting the individual systems is to talk with the Police Commissioners. Visiting the NIA stations and meeting everyone is a bonus for me. I will be glad to brief you when you quit jumping to conclusions and prepare yourself to listen," I said with a genuine smile. Sauer's face lost his smug expression. We entered his office in silence, and Pannell shut the door behind us.

"Although the police and NIA have very distinct areas of responsibility, they are not mutually exclusive. There are times when cooperation serves both the individual system and the UAS. The marines-for-hire was one such example. My current inquiry is another." I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat in one of his padded chairs before continuing. "The reason I'm visiting Oasis began with the disappearance of General Guzman's daughter…" I went on to explain how the police commissioner's cooperation on Eastar had led to my current investigation.

"I apologize, Admiral Paulus, for being…distracted and making assumptions. A very stupid thing for a NIA commander who should know better. Excuse me for a minute, ma'am." To my surprise, he picked up his tablet, made a call, and a minute later looked up at me. "Will this afternoon be convenient to meet with Commissioner Gilchrist?" he asked. I nodded, surprised at his abrupt turnaround. He looked back down at his tablet and typed for a minute before looking up. "I called for a meeting of all NIA personnel for eight tomorrow morning." He smiled. I smiled back, pleased by his response to my admonishment. After a leisurely lunch at a local restaurant, we left for the police headquarters.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Commander Sauer." Gilchrist turned to look at me and then Pannell, who was in uniform. I had again changed into a dark blue pantsuit. "Navy admirals appear to be getting younger and much better-looking." He held out a hand, then froze as Red peeked out from my jacket and wound around my neck. I took his hand before he could step back.

"Thank you for seeing me, Commissioner Gilchrist, and for the compliment—and yes, I'm as young as I look. The doctors tell me my krait's poison slows my development. I've tried a gray wig but I'm afraid it doesn't work," I said, hoping he had a sense of humor.

He did and laughed. "Do the civilian clothes help?" he smiled but looked interested.

"No, but I don't feel so conspicuous. Actually, I'm not in uniform because I didn't want to imply my visit was NIA business. It began with the disappearance of General Guzman's daughter…" To Gilchrist's credit, he didn't interrupt once. When I had finished, he called two of his detectives and we retired to his conference room. It was the early hours of the morning when we finished.

"Well, Anna, what do you make of these results?" Gilchrist asked as we finished the last set of files. We had identified eight women: one case five years before, two four years before, two more each in the third and second years, and one this year.

"It may indicate that Oasis was one of the first systems to be targeted and suggests this group has been active for at least five years. I also think I've identified sufficient missing women to conclude it's a UAS problem, which is going to require the police and NIA cooperation to combat," I said, watching Gilchrist and Sauer. They looked at each other and nodded. "I'll provide you with a complete list of all the missing women we've identified to date and ask that you keep Commander Sauer apprised if you identify any more. That way I can ensure everyone has an up-to-date list."

* * *

The expanded staff meeting lasted all day, and we had a station dinner that evening. Sauer was an enthusiastic participant but left me to direct the meeting. He accompanied me back to the Taranis and we sat talking in my office over a second dessert and coffee.

"To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to your visit, ma'am. Station chiefs tend to get like cruiser captains and begin to feel independent and a law unto ourselves. But we are a team and it's good to be reminded of that every once in a while. I think this missing person project, Magic Act, will do a lot to reinforce that. And a closer relationship with the police is a positive result. I hope we see you often."

* * *

"Banner, send the following message to each of the NIA stations I've visited to date and to each of the ones I subsequently visit after I explain project Magic Act. Send it using Crazy Numbers."

Magic Act will require each NIA station to maintain a close working relationship with the police to identify missing women who meet the profile. Any women thus identified will be forwarded to Commander Damon, Eastar Station Chief, who will maintain the master database and disseminate the updates to all the NIA station. Include pictures and all the information the police collect. The updated database should be shared with the local police to ensure they have the latest data.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Star Systems: Westar

Commander Shrader stood waiting as I exited the shuttle. He braced to attention and saluted. When I returned his salute, he gave me an ear-to-ear smile.

"Congratulations, Admiral Paulus on your well-deserved promotion. I was hoping you would come. I'm dying for Andrea, my fiancée, to meet you. I've certainly talked about you and Chris enough," he said, then gave me a hard stare. "Are you here for a specific reason? I doubt it's solely to visit each of your NIA offices."

"You're right. I want to talk to the Westar police commissioner," I said but waited until we had entered his vehicle to continue. "I think we have a missing persons problem that extends across the UAS…" I went on to explain what I had found to date.

"I miss the old days with you and Chris…and Wilbur, but I'm content running the NIA station here at Westar and the stability it provides me...now that I'm getting married and planning to start a family." He gave a wry grin.

"Chris feels the same way," I said. I understood. They could reasonably expect to live well past one hundred, whereas I couldn't since Red couldn't. Consequently, my risk was far less than theirs. If I died chasing criminals, I might shorten my life by only ten to twenty years, whereas their lives would be shortened by seventy or eighty years. And soon they would have families.

"How does it feel to be an admiral?" Adrian asked, changing the subject.

"Boring," I said, which caused Adrian to choke and then laugh. He continued laughing off and on all the way to the NIA building.

* * *

Adrian called an expanded staff meeting, which included all of the NIA personnel, and I received a comprehensive review of NIA operations at the Westar station. It gave me an opportunity to meet everyone and to express my views about focus and not assuming facts not in evidence. I used the Owlet project, marines-for-hire, as an example of the danger of assuming things without having the facts to support it. Afterward, Banner, with Adrian's help, got an appointment with the chief of police for the next morning.

After the meeting, Adrian took me to dinner at the Masson, a high-price restaurant featuring French cuisine. The tables were draped with white tablecloths; the armchairs had padded backs, seats, and arms; and the waiters dressed in formal suits. Adrian's fiancée arrived only minutes after we had been seated.

"Andrea, this is Anna, the Director of NIA Stations. Anna, this is Andrea, my fiancée."

Andrea gave me a wicked smile. "Adrian talks about you so much I feel I know you. I would give you a welcoming hug, Anna, but the little red head on your shoulder may not like it. Although I hear that…Red tolerates Commander Sinclair."

"He seems to know or sense when people are my friends and tolerates them touching me," I said. Andrea was close to five centimeters taller than me and had a nice, full figure. She was also smart, charming, and amusing, and seemed to enjoy life. I liked her.

"Adrian says now that you are an admiral, you no longer have to learn adult-speak," Andrea said and grinned with amusement. "Adrian explained some of your impromptu moments. I too have trouble with adult-speak. It's so boring." Andrea's face was smiling and her eyes full of mischief. I felt she would be a good partner for Adrian, who could be a bit too serious and focused.

* * *

"Commissioner Buchanan, thank you for taking the time to see me," I said, shaking his hand, which was twice the size of mine. He stood close to two meters tall and towered over me; he was easily twice my weight.

"You're a legend here on Westar. Our investigation concluded you were kidnapped, turned over to the hijackers, and eventually transported to their cruiser. Next we heard, you showed up in Eastar along with the JPU cruiser, but no details." He left the question hanging, How. Just then Red appeared, wrapping around my neck and facing the chief.

"They wanted the answer to the wrong question," I said, reluctant to discuss the details and having to relive the ordeal in the telling.

"Wrong question?" he asked, frowning in thought.

"They wanted to know what I had learned about their operation," I said and paused. His frown deepened, and his eyes seemed to disappear under his bushy eyebrows. "They should have asked about Red—my medical dispenser."

Several seconds passed before he half shouted. "The Coaca Virus…" And then added in a whisper. "In a sealed environment." He shuddered. "What can I do for you, Admiral Paulus?"

"Anna, please. I became interested when I noticed a specific group of missing persons on Eastar…" I went on to share what I had found to date. Before I could finish, he had instructed several of his detectives to begin gathering the case files. We worked well into the night and found nine cases: one five years before, two four years before, two two years before, three last year, and one this year.

* * *

"What now?" Adrian asked as he, Pannell, Banner, Stamm, and I sat in his office the next morning. I smiled, thinking back to when he was our unofficial team leader. I could just imagine him having a similar approach with his staff.

"What do you suggest?" I asked. Funny, I thought. Now I'm officially the team leader.

After a surprised look, he shrugged slightly. "I don't have a clue." He grinned, probably mirroring my thoughts.

"We don't have enough information to do anything but guess, which is exactly what I've been telling everyone's staff not to do." I paused, considering what I thought we knew to date. "We know there is a specific profile that fits the group of women who are going missing on many of the UAS systems, and that none have been found to date. From that we can tentatively conjecture they are being kidnapped, taken off the system where they were abducted, and it's an organized operation. But we have no facts to support those conjectures."

"The NIA needs to partner with the police," Adrian said. "We need to be on alert for those women and watch for missing women who meet the profile and…"Adrian shrugged.

"Try to determine how they are taken off planet," I finished. "I will circulate to all NIA offices the pictures and identifying features of all the missing women who met the profile. You can then pass them on to the police. If we can find just one woman, we may be able to answer all our questions," I said. For now, it was a waiting game hoping we would get lucky or the people responsible would make a mistake.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Systems: Shadows Rest

There was no one waiting when the shuttle landed at the Shadows Rest's spaceport. Normally the NIA station chief or a representative was there, although not required. In my case it was also not necessary in the strict sense. My party needed several vehicles because of security, my aide, and my master chief. And Pannell wouldn't let me go without a security escort. He had witnessed too many attempts on my life or to steal Red. But in his usual efficient way, he had a caravan assembled and on its way in less than an hour. The Shadows Rest offices were located in a small building on the outskirts of Quetta, the capital city and government center. The building was an old four-story cement structure sitting on several acres. Consequently, the site had space for parking and a shuttle pad. The entrance had two guards who verified each person's access.

"Why so much security?" I asked Pannell.

"This planet has a history of revolting against the Shadow Rest government and the UAS. The military, being an extension of the UAS, has come under attack several times over the years," he said but quickly added, "although not in the last twenty years. They take a better-safe-than-sorry approach." Just then, the guard at the gate waved us through.

In the building's lobby, a lieutenant met us. "Admiral Paulus, I'm Lieutenant Gibbon; Commander Devore asked me to escort you to the NIA area. We occupy the third and fourth floors of the building," he said, looking and sounding composed, but I could feel his nervousness. "Commander Devore has his staff assembled in the conference room."

"Is the Commander there with his staff?" I asked, wondering if this was another game and whether it had anything to do with him not being selected for the Eastar station position. Devore was one of the station chiefs I had concerns about based on his monthly reports.

Gibbon nodded and squeaked out a "Yes, ma'am."

We exited the elevator on the fourth floor and Gibbon led us to the conference room. When he opened the door, Banner waved him to precede us. Pannell followed along with two marines and Stamm. Then Banner entered and shouted, "Attention!"

I entered and stood looking around the room before saying, "At ease." The rectangular table had a full commander sitting at one end flanked by two lieutenant commanders to his left. The commander was a distinguished-looking silver-haired man with a bland expression on his clean-shaven face. He stood appraising me. The male lieutenant commander was average height, had a bushy mustache, and a round face that looked tired. The female lieutenant commander was also average height and had a good figure considering she looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. The woman felt…apprehensive.

"Well, we're ready for inspection and to be told how to run an NIA station," Devore said, smiling so it could be taken as a joke. Just then Red peeked out of my jacket, and it took me considerable effort not to laugh. It was like he wanted to see the fool who was talking.

"That is disappointing, Commander. Why would you feel you need to be told how to run an NIA station from a young woman who has less time in service than you do in grade and has only run a NIA station once and then for less than two years?" I said, cocking my head slightly to the side as I awaited his reply. The male lieutenant commander looked like he wanted to leave the room. The woman looked to have relaxed, which I thought strange. Devore sat quietly, but I could feel his anger building.

"Damn right. I've forgotten more about running an NIA office than…" He had risen partially out of his chair then collapsed back before finishing the outburst. "Since you acknowledge I have extensive experience, why did you select Commander Damon for the Eastar station? She not only doesn't have my experience but wasn't a full commander."

"An excellent question that deserves an answer. I wanted someone whose total interest is on chasing criminals, not on getting promoted, not focused on his career advancement, or on the prestige of the position. My preference was either commander Sinclair or Shrader. I offered each of them the position. They declined for their own reasons—"

"Because they didn't want to work under the person their hard work propelled to admiral," Devore said, barely able to contain his rising anger.

"That doesn't make sense, Commander Devore. They work under me right now. No, the answer is in the reason I offered them the position. They love what they are doing and aren't concerned about promotions or getting the attention of the headquarters brass."

"Why are you here then?" he asked, straining to keep from shouting.

"Now that's a good question." I smiled as I sat to his right, facing the two lieutenant commanders across the table. "I'm pursuing a disturbing case of missing persons—"

"That's a civil crime, which is a police matter and none of our business."

"And that leads to the second reason, which is to ensure the NIA stations are focused on catching bad people. Although our mandate is crimes that involve navy and marine personnel, we must make sure the crimes don't overlap. If our interest is catching bad people and not in making ourselves look good, there is no reason we can't help the police or the police help us."

"You appear to like the spotlight," Devore said, smiling. I laughed despite the anguish the spotlight had brought me and Alexa over the years.

"Commander Devore, you have my permission to tell Vice Admiral Lulltrel all the reasons I shouldn't be in command of the NIA stations. But while we are awaiting her response, I would like a meeting of all the Shadow Rests NIA personnel. Since you believe there is nothing you can learn from me, you aren't required to attend. Instead, you can help Lieutenant Banner get me a meeting with the police commissioner. The staff meeting will be at thirteen hundred hours." As I stood to leave, Banner shouted "Attention!" while trying unsuccessfully to stifle a smile.

* * *

"Ma'am, the police commissioner said he's not interested in meeting with you," Banner said. I could feel his…anticipation. That seemed strange. "That was after Commander Devore said he thought you were an egomaniac who thought you were smarter than the police and had the authority to take over any cases you wanted." He strained to maintain a bland expression, but I could tell it was hard.

"Smile before you idiots get lockjaw," I said. Pannell, two security guards, Banner, and Stamm sat in one of NIA's smaller conference rooms. "The sad part is I don't blame him or others for being frustrated. When I pass a mirror, I'm tempted to salute the admiral I see in the reflection." I shook my head. "Banner, while the conversation with the commissioner is still clear, write down what you heard Commander Buchanan and the commissioner say."

Banner pulled out his tablet and began writing. I waited with mixed feeling. I didn't like negatively impacting anyone's career, especially when I sympathized with them, but neither did I want someone with a hostile attitude running an NIA station. Banner broke into my musing as he laid his tablet in front of me. I read it and rose.

"Colonel Pannell, Lieutenant Banner, please accompany me. I rode the elevator down to the fourth floor, walked down to Devore's office area, marched past his petty officer first class secretary, opened the door, and marched in, followed by Pannell and Banner.

"Who the hell…" he stopped when he noticed Pannell and Banner.

"Commander Devore. I'll give you three options: One, retire. Two, transfer out of the NIA. Or three, a court martial for conduct unbecoming an officer. If you choose option three, Colonel Pannell will place you under arrest and find you transportation back to Eastar. I'll expect your answer by eight hundred hours tomorrow." I turned and walked out of the office. "Paul, I want to go visit the police commissioner."

* * *

When we arrived at police headquarters, I was given a pass that included Banner and my security. I smiled, knowing the only reason for the pass was to provide the chief the satisfaction of reading me the riot act face-to-face. I was led into a large office with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out into the heart of the city. The commissioner was a short, stocky man with a bulldog face and a telltale manner that suggested he had been in the marines. As he stood and expanded his chest, ready to shout, I pulled out my P1A authorization, closed the distance to him, and held the badge at eye level before he could speak.

"Commissioner Matheny, let me apologize for Commander Devore. For reasons of his own, he misled you as to the reason I'm here." I paused, awaiting his response. He sat, frowning at me. "Normally I wouldn't have mentioned the P1A authority, as I believe you would be interested in what I have to say without it. It started on Eastar…" I began at the beginning to give the commissioner the entire picture. As I suspected, he was interested, and he directed two detectives to help me review the missing persons case files. We found eight cases going back five years: one five years before, and two each for the subsequent three years, and one so far this year.

"I wouldn't have believed we would have found any missing persons meeting your profile. Ironically, I like your approach of having the police and NIA working together. It would be near impossible for us to have discovered that profile, and even if we had, we would have assumed it was a local problem. You have the unique ability to determine if it's a UAS-wide problem. Your people will have my full cooperation. Let's catch the bastards." His smile was evil.

* * *

"I didn’t know you had P1A authority," Devore said the next morning when I entered his office.

"Commander, I'm your superior, whether you like it or not. I asked for a meeting with the police commissioner, and you were duty bound to do everything you could to set it up. You did everything you could to jinx it. The NIA doesn't need commanders who think they are not responsible to anyone." I paused, awaiting comments. When none came, I continued. "So which option have you decided to pursue?"

"I'm truly sorry. Can't you give me a second chance?"

"No. My session with your NIA personnel indicated you haven't done anything wrong, but you've demonstrated a lack of interest, which is reflected in your people's performance and attitude. Had you not gotten hostile toward me, that would not have been enough for me to have you removed, although it would have been in the NIA's best interest. But you did, demonstrating poor judgment."

* * *

I spent several hours talking with lieutenant commanders Stokes and Berry. Stokes lacked motivation. His main interest was keeping his head down for the next several years until he could retire. Berry liked the idea of working with the police and taking a more inquisitive role in viewing their crimes. I didn’t know if she had the ability, but she did have the interest. I decided to make her the acting NIA station chief.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Star System: Undisclosed - Inside Information

"Commander Devore visited Commissioner Matheny today along with the aide to that young NIA bitch," Vito said, his voice ringing with amusement as he addressed his eight companions. Vito hadn't been present, but he had planted a listening device in the Commissioner's office over a year ago to ensure that he and his group would be alerted to any potential problems. "Devore trashed her and implied she thought the chief was subject to her and the navy's authority. I doubt the chief will let her in the building, much less access to the missing persons case files."

"If you're right," Tashia said, looking far off in thought, "Maybe we can get Devore interested in a deal. It would be nice to have eyes and ears inside the NIA."

"He's a career officer," Efrain said with a look of disbelief.

Tashia smiled. "Everyone has his or her price. For most of you, it's the money." She gave a snort. "But not Lucio and Jamar. They like the action."

"Lucio and Jamar are also here for the money," Silas said, looking around the group and seeing general nods of agreement.

"Lucio and Jamar like money, but it's not what motivates them." She didn't elaborate, but from the thoughtful looks around the group, they knew she was right. You had only to look into their dead-looking eyes to know that was true. No one asked Tashia what motivated her. Even Lucio and Jamar were cautious around her.

* * *

"I understand Chief Matheny met with the Paulus girl," Tashia said two days later in the backroom of the Paradise Parlor, which was an upscale restaurant, theater, and betting parlor. The room was filled with electronic equipment, monitors, and a round table that could accommodate twelve. Currently, there were nine members: Jules oversaw the technical aspects of the operation. Micah managed the money. Silas managed the interface with the various star systems. Stefan managed the placement of women. Efrain managed transportation. Vito managed the Shadows Rest operation. Jamar was a fixer. And Lucio, along with Tashia, managed the product—women. "What happened?" Her narrowed eyes fixed on Vito.

"Whatever the NIA bitch did, Matheny has been cooperating with her since she met with him. He had detectives Daria and Jocob, who handle missing persons cases, helping her with the case files going back five years," Vito said with a shrug. "And judging by his mood and comments, he wasn't forced."

"What where they looking for?"

"Don't know, but Daria said they found seven women who met the NIA bitch's criteria," Vito said, his gaze shifting between Lucio and Tashia.

"Seven's the right number," Lucio said, frowning in thought. "We need the names to be sure."

"No. The dog is awake and has our scent. Given enough time, she'll find us," Tashia said softly. "Jamar, do you think you can put that nosy dog back to sleep—permanently?"

Jamar nodded. He said nothing, but his thin lips produced an evil smile.

"Not on Shadows Rest," Tashia said. "I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention here. In fact, no more women from Shadows Rest. Let's make Matheny think the problem has gone away."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Star System: Safe Harbor

"How is your tour going?" Captain Martz asked after dinner the first night out of Shadows Rest. We were sitting in the captain's dining room enjoying coffee and a chocolate mousse dessert.

"Interesting," I said. "I really only know six of the fifteen commanders who manage the NIA stations, and normally, visiting each one would be an extravagance. But investigating the cause of the missing women has provided me a unique opportunity to learn about the stations I'm responsible for and to meet the people," I said, reflecting on my visits to date.

"And to get rid of the deadwood," Commander Shelden said with a grin. "Or so I heard."

"That has been unfortunate, since I don’t care if someone doesn't like me and thinks my promotions weren't deserved, so long as their focus is on doing their job and not on getting promoted or wallowing in the prestige of their positions."

"Everyone is interested in getting promoted," Shelden said, looking to Martz.

"There is a difference between hoping to be promoted and your total focus being on how to get promoted," I said. "How would you like your crew on watch viewing vids?" I asked.

Martz laughed. "I see your point. Without your total focus, you would never have found the missing persons profile or that it's prevalent across the UAS," Martz said, giving me an appraising look, then laughing. "I'll bet you don’t care about promotions."

"Hate them!" I muttered, and Martz roared with genuine laughter.

* * *

"Banner, send the following message to Vice Admiral Lulltrel using Crazy Numbers," I said, thinking I should keep her up to date although I had very little to report.

I believe Magic Act should be designated an active project under P1A authority. I have visited ten systems to date and found each system had three to seven missing women who fit the profile developed on Eastar. A total of sixty over the past five years. Although conjecture—I have no proof—the profile, along with the consistency across the UAS, would indicate an organized enterprise, probably of a criminal nature, as the women disappear without a trace.

Commanders Devore and Steward have submitted their retirement papers. They are voluntary retirements and in the best interest of the individuals and NIA.

* * *

When the shuttle landed at the Safe Harbor port of entry, Commander Atkins was waiting. He gave me a salute while barely restraining a grin.

"Welcome to Safe Harbor, Admiral Paulus. You've gone viral on the rumor mill, ma'am." Atkins grinned. "Speculation runs the spectrum on why you are visiting the systems. Some are really wild."

"What do you think, Commander?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Because you're interested," he said, his grin widening. I couldn't help a laugh. A page from the past when he worked under me at Eastar.

"What do you really think?" I asked.

"You're chasing something, ma'am. And…" he paused, considering me for a moment. "Testing your station commanders. The rumor mill says two have already failed." His grin appeared again. "My group is dying to meet you…after I assured them only criminals need fear you."

"How do you like managing a NIA station?"

"Love it! It's exciting. After my year with you, I'm always looking under rocks, pulling on threads to see where they lead, and poking my nose everywhere. My folks are starting to do the same." He laughed as if remembering some past incident.

"Can you help my aide, Lieutenant Banner, set up a meeting with the police commissioner? I'll fill you in on the details later, but you're right. I am chasing something, and you and the other NIA station chiefs need to be part of the chase."

* * *

"That was fun. I doubt my folks thought they would each have to go over their projects with you. Probably thought the meeting was to listen to you talk." He gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, your meeting with Commissioner Cabrera is tomorrow at thirteen hundred hours," Atkins said, then escorted me and my party to the Imperial Hotel where he had accommodations arranged for us—Pannell had brought half his detail. After freshening up and changing into civilian clothes, Atkin returned and took us to the Seashore, an upscale restaurant serving mostly exotic fish dinners. The décor was aquatic—several large fish tanks with a variety of strange but beautiful fish and marine life lined the walls, a collection of ancient Egyptian, Viking, Spanish, and English ocean-going ships were scattered around the room on wooden pedestals, and LED monitors showing vids of sharks, whales, octopuses, coral reefs, and other organisms that inhabit the oceans and seas of the worlds. The tables and chairs were sturdy wood similar to old-world construction. After checking with me, Atkins invited his second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander Phelps. She was tall, thin, and had a narrow, intense-looking face and straight brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had recently been promoted and was full of enthusiasm. Our round table held six: Atkins, Phelps, Pannell, Banner, Stamm, and me.

We had just been served our after-dinner drinks when I saw Captain Dixon lurching in our direction. I discreetly opened the shoulder purse I was carrying, giving me access to the laser inside. Pannell also recognized Dixon and pushed his chair backward, making it easier to rise. Two marines who had waited in the reception room were now inside the dining room—apparently alerted by Pannell.

"Well if it isn't the snake bitch whose career is built on destroying good officers...and her guard dog. Woof, woof." Dixon's speech was slightly slurred. He smiled when Pannell stood with his hand on his Mfw. Dixon smiled back as he raised his hand to reveal a grenade—the safety pin twirling on the finger of his other hand. "Go ahead and shoot. I have nothing left to lose. The little bitch has destroyed my life."

People could be seen hurrying to exit the room—except two tables, each with four men. They sat unmoving and staring in our direction. And although the tables were located at opposite ends of the room, they were still potentially in the blast area of the grenade. I doubted they were staying to help, but then it dawned on me. Unless I was mistaken, Dixon had interrupted a carefully planned assassination attempt.

"I'll make you a deal, bitch; give me that snake and I'll leave—and your friends will live." He laughed. "Or your lapdog can shoot you and I'll leave."

Killing Dixon wasn't an option, as it would cause him to loosen his grip on the grenade's lever he was holding. Without the safety pin, it would explode before anyone could get to safety.

"Tell you what, Captain Dixon—" I started to say but his shout interrupted me.

"Because of you, I'm no longer a captain. They demoted me to commander and I'll never make captain again. The navy was my life and you ruined it," he screamed, raising his hand with the grenade.

"They should have given you a medical discharge. You're obviously insane," I shouted to get his attention.

"For doing what half the navy would like to do?" he shouted back.

"No, for murdering innocent people. I should have said criminally insane." I glared at him while trying to decide what—if any—options I had.

"You're never alone," he nodded toward Pannell.

"I have a simple solution," I said. "Let's you and I go outside and you can blow us up without hurting anyone else."

"NO!" Pannell shouted.

"Colonel, you would be far more useful staying here and keeping the folks in here from leaving and maybe getting killed." I nodded in the direction of the tables with the men who had remained in the room. Unless I was mistaken, they also wanted to kill me, although not with Dixon present.

He nodded after looking around but didn't look happy. "You're trying to trick me. Won't work."

"I'm trying to save your parents, family, and friends from having to live with your legacy—the mass murderer who blew himself up in a restaurant, killing twenty innocent customers. They will shun them and their kids will suffer—"

"They will know it was because you ruined my life," he shouted.

I laughed. "You think that will make a difference? I waved my arm to include the entire room. Beside the six at our table, there were the two tables with the men, and several still hiding behind tables and counters. "Take me outside and blow us up. At least then you will just be guilty of revenge and not some crazy mass murderer."

He was silent for a long time. "All right." He grabbed my right arm with his right hand and began walking as he pulled me along. When we exited the building, a large crowd was milling around the area, eagerly awaiting the outcome. He raised his hand holding the grenade and the crowd scattered, running and screaming as they sought distance and cover. Within seconds, the area was clear for at least forty meters and expanding as we watched. His maniacal laughter sent shivers through me.

"This," he said as his hand with the grenade rose to my face, "is for all the good men and women you destroyed to get ahead—" His face contorted in pain and he let go of me as he staggered back several steps. Red's jaw was clamped onto the hand holding the grenade. Dixon smiled. "This may be better. With the snake dead, you'll die, but it will take days of agony."

He was right. I was helpless to do anything. I couldn't free Red without setting off the grenade. I sighed, content. I had never expected to live a normal life span, as Red wouldn't, and my life had been good. I had a job I enjoyed and a loving mother. My heart ached for Alexa and the pain this would cause her, but at least no one else had to die. Lost in my thoughts, I watched helplessly as Dixon dropped to his knees. His face twisted in pain as his hand and arm swelled and changed color from red to purple. He finally collapsed completely, lying perfectly still. I braced for the inevitable. Nothing—no explosion, no brilliant flash of light, no shrapnel tearing through cloth and flesh–nothing but an eerie silence. A fake grenade meant to scare me or a dud, I wondered as I approached Dixon. When I knelt to retrieve Red, I saw his extended jaw still clamped around Dixon's hand and the grenade, which had kept the lever from releasing. Fishing through Dixon's pockets, I located the pin for the grenade and inserted it. Then I removed Red's expanded jaws from around Dixon's hand and the grenade. I put the grenade in my purse and pressed Red to my lips. "Whatever you are, I love you," I whispered. Red's hissing jerked me back to the present and the realization that my friends were still in the restaurant along with eight potential assassins. Then I laughed and began walking towards our vehicles, where two of my security guards was standing with open mouths.

"Corporal, could one of you drive me to the shuttle port? I'd like to spend the night on the Taranis, and after we've driven off, the other can let Colonel Pannell know," I said, getting into the back of the first vehicle.

"Yes, ma'am," the older of the two said, giving me a snappy salute and then waving the other man to the car. The young corporal was grinning as he jumped into the driver's seat, and a minute later we were on the road to the spaceport.

* * *

"How?" Pannell asked when Banner, Stamm, and he arrived an hour later. I sat in my small dining room eating a crème brûlée for the dessert I had missed, thanks to Dixon's interruption.

"When Dixon stuck the grenade in my face for me to see, Red attacked his hand. His unhinged jaw not only clamped onto Dixon's hand but also locked the grenade's activation lever closed." I took another bite as everyone stood envisioning the scenario. I pointed to the grenade, which I had placed on the sideboard. "The poison killed Dixon before he could pull Red off him and the grenade. I decided to return to the Taranis, since without me present, the assassins at the two tables would have no reason to shoot at you."

"Assassins?" Banner asked as his eyes involuntarily darted around the room.

"I think you're right. Those men at the two tables looked armed and were watching your table before Dixon showed up. That means that the people responsible for those missing women are aware you're involved, and they aren't stupid," Pannell said, a worried look creasing his forehead. "From now on, nobody goes out without a weapon." He stared at each person present until they nodded.

* * *

We arrived at the police headquarters nine strong—Pannell, a six-man security detail, Atkins, and me—I had left Banner and Stamm on the Taranis over their objections. Only Pannell, Atkins, and I entered the chief's office.

"After Colonel Pannell called me this morning, I had my detectives review the surveillance tapes from the restaurant. You were right. Half of the men at those two tables you identified are persons of interest in multiple murder investigations. From what the colonel said, you were very lucky," Cabrera said as we got settled in his office.

"It worked out well," I said. "There were a lot of diners at the restaurant. A gunfight would have involved innocent bystanders."

The chief nodded. "Based on your popularity, I assume whatever you wanted to discuss has upset organized crime." He leaned forward, and I went on to explain what I had found. Cabrera was very interested in how I had discovered the kidnapping operation, and we worked into the early hours of the morning reviewing his missing persons cases. In the end, we concluded Safe Harbor had eight women that met the profile: one woman missing so far this year, two last year, one the year before that, three four years before, and one the year before that. He agreed to be on the lookout for the women I'd identified to date and to keep Atkins informed. When I arrived back on the Taranis, I had a message from Lulltrel.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director NIA Stations

Magic Act is officially a UAS P1A project. Be careful.

From: Vice Admiral Lulltrel

Director NIA

We left the next day for Truth Star.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Star System: Undisclosed - Excuses

"Rumor has it the little admiral puppy is alive and well. Not a scratch on her young body," Tashia said in a mockingly sweet voice as she met each person's eyes and finally settled on Jamar. "Of course, that couldn't be right, could it, Jamar?"

"They didn't get an opportunity—"

"Were they waiting for an invitation to join her for dinner? Maybe they didn't want to interrupt her dinner. Or they are incompetent idiots!" The last four words dripped with scorn.

"An unexpected incident—" Jamar began again.

"They expected her to cooperate in her assassination? Plans never go wrong? She's not only left Safe Harbor, but she now knows we know she's investigating those missing women and will be on alert."

"I'll take care of her," Jamar said, low and menacing. His voice sounded much like a viper hissing.

"Oh, I thought that's what you were doing. My mistake," Tashia said, ignoring Jamar's rising anger. "Are you hoping her cruiser crashes or has a bad jump?"

"I'm leaving tonight. I will personally see to her death."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Star System: Truth Star

"I'm growing old before my time guarding you. You're an admiral. You're supposed to have a large office, have everyone come to see you, and be bored," Pannell said as the cruiser docked at the Truth Star spaceport. "But you are chasing criminals all over the UAS where they can pick the time and place to attack you. You were…lucky that Dixon showed up when he did. Those eight men had the advantage. We weren't expecting them; not all of your party had weapons, and they had the numbers to overwhelm your security."

"You are absolutely right on all accounts." I smiled and shrugged. "And I wouldn't want your responsibility for anything. You have a woman who is too young to be an admiral, so she doesn't know how she is supposed to act, so bored she ignores the threat posed by the evil people she's chasing, and too new to trust people she doesn't know to find them. You probably have a good case that I'm unstable and should be retired."

Pannell gave me a snort and couldn't repress a grin. "I don't know why I bother. I couldn't win when you were a commander and now you're an admiral. For your mother's sake, let's take reasonable precautions."

"I think you're ready for promotion. That's clever logic," I conceded. "I will listen to your suggestions and do my best to comply. My mother deserves that and much, much more," I said and meant it. Alexa had saved me from a living nightmare, given me a loving home, and was responsible for my wonderful life. I could never repay her in a hundred lifetimes. So, I would try to be careful for her sake since I knew how much she would suffer if I was killed.

"Sorry, but I'm desperate. I'd like to see you catch the kidnappers as much as you would, but you can't do that if you're dead," Pannell said, and I could feel his sincerity. Let your aide and me set up the meeting with the NIA commander and his staff and with the chief of police. That way we can minimize your time on planet and exposure."

I nodded. "I'll be a good girl," I said meekly. I would try for Alexa's sake.

* * *

"Welcome, Admiral Paulus," said a tall man in his late thirties as I cleared lobby security. He looked perfect for a recruitment poster, trim, clean-shaven, dark brown hair cut just above the ears, and a nice smile on his angular face. "I'm Commander Sydell, station chief. I would have met you at the spaceport, but Colonel Pannell requested I didn't."

"Colonel Pannell is concerned about my security, as we had an incident at Safe Harbor."

"I've arranged for a staff meeting in an hour to include all the NIA personnel per your aide's request," he said, looking attentive, but I thought and felt his silent appraisal. "I could show you around the unit or…"

"I'd prefer time with you, Commander, before the staff meeting," I said. He nodded and waved for me to follow him. Pannell and Banner followed along.

"I've heard that two of the NIA station chiefs were forced to retire," he said as Banner fetched me my coffee drink from Sydell's sideboard.

"Actually, that's not precisely true. They had a choice and chose to retire." I pursed my lips in thought. "What would you think of a commander who decided to demonstrate how little regard he had for his boss and how ineffectual she was by attempting to demean her in front of his staff?"

Sydell snorted. "Stupid."

"It's frustrating because I can understand any commander wondering what the brass was thinking to put a young woman who had less time in service than several of the commanders have in grade, less experience managing a NIA station than many of the current station chiefs, and then promote her to admiral. In fact, I wonder the same thing. But as usual, I wasn't consulted. Someone just walks into my office and tells me after it's done." I paused to take a sip of my coffee. "And because I understand and agree with those commanders' concerns, it would never show up in their reviews. What I don't understand is why they want to take it out on me. But while I understand their reservations, they have to know I cannot let certain overt conduct pass without impacting discipline, morale, and NIA's mission—to make sure we catch the bad guys and gals."

"Human nature, I think. We lash out at whoever is available." He paused, assessing me. "What, then, is your reason for visiting the NIA stations since you understand there is some hostility toward you?"

"I'm hoping to ensure everyone is focused on their responsibility. I think after a while the job can become routine and folks lose focus," I said, thinking about what I had heard and seen at the various stations I had visited.

"Focus?"

"What would you do if a general's daughter was kidnapped?"

"Probably visit the police to see what they did, although I would have no authority to even see the case file," he said automatically.

"What would you do if they let you look and you found they had been extremely thorough and gone the extra mile but could find no normal reason for her to be missing—no addictions, no steady boyfriend, and no problems at home?" I asked. He sat frowning at me and eventually shrugged in defeat. I went on to explain what I had done, the reason I was visiting each system, and recounted the incident in Safe Harbor.

He laughed. "I think you are going to be good for the NIA, ma'am. You're right. It's easy to get sloppy and assume things not in evidence."

The staff meeting went well with Sydell's enthusiastic support, lasting all day and into the evening. The next day, Sydell came along to see the chief of police since he would be responsible to work with him to monitor for missing women. We found six women who met the profile: one this year, two last year, one the year before, and another four years before.

We left for Black Water the next day, surprised there had been no incidents.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Star System: Black Water – Too Much Excitement

Commander Cooper met me with a perfect salute when I exited the shuttle. "Welcome to Black Water, ma'am, and congratulations on your promotion. I love my promotion and getting the Black Water NIA station to manage, but I've missed having you as a boss." She was literally a bundle of bubbling energy. "I miss our staff meetings."

"Me too," I said. "Currently I have only one of my NIA chiefs at my weekly staff meetings."

"I've alerted the station that there will be a site meeting while you are here. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you, as I've shared some of our interesting stories by way of emphasizing what I expect of my people."

I spent an hour with Cooper going over old times, explaining the real reason for my visit, and the rest of the day with her people. We stopped for a working lunch, dinner, and early evening pizza party. It was a fun day and evening. I knew Cooper and she knew what I expected, so it was just a matter of reinforcing it with her people.

Cooper had booked us rooms at the Black Stallion, an upscale hotel and restaurant, with a full range of amenities despite the rustic facade and horse racing pictures, equipment, and vids of famous races on monitors throughout the lobby, hallways, and in the rooms. My suite had a small kitchen, living room, and master bathroom. The room opened onto a terrace that overlooked the rolling hills to the east and a large lake to the north.

"Ma'am, what can I do to help catch the…kidnappers?" Cooper asked as the five of us sat around drinking coffee.

"Keep involved with the police commissioner. Although it's his responsibility, we can accomplish more if the police and NIA work collaboratively and share information. I think we can infer that the women are being kidnapped, they fit a specific profile, the kidnappers are an organized entity, and they have people on every planet," I said, and Cooper nodded. "What we don't know is how they identify their victims, how the women are kidnapped and moved off system, why the women are being kidnapped, and how the organization communicates. Ideally, we need to find one or more of the kidnapped women. Barring that, we need to find the answers to those four questions."

"For prostitution," Banner said. Cooper smiled, knowing what I would say.

"We can conjecture that is the reason but can't assume we know the answer without proof. Even our conjecture that the women have been kidnapped is nothing more than a guess."

"What else could it be?" Cooper asked.

"They could be killed for their body parts," I said. "Or they may have gone willingly for reasons we haven't thought of. We will never catch them if we resort to guessing. Every conjecture must be proved."

* * *

I woke to Red hissing in my ear, and my eyes flew open in time to see the door to the living room open and a dark shadow appear in the doorway. I rolled onto my stomach, my hand desperately seeking my Mfw on the night table, just as I saw a flash of a laser and smelled my bedding ignite centimeters from my back and head. I rolled again, tumbling off the bed as my arm swept across the night table, sending the small table light, a glass of water, my tablet, and my Mfw crashing to the floor along with me. The smell of burning wood filled my nostrils as the laser burned a two-centimeter scar across the wooden table above me. Desperately, I swung my left arm in a semicircle, searching for my weapon. When I felt the familiar feel of a Mfw, I clutched it in a death grip and rolled toward it just as the laser beam flashed again, This time cutting through my trailing nightgown. Knowing I had no time to transfer the Mfw to my right hand, I steadied the stock with my right and fired blindly using my left hand. The hissing noise from the Mfw, the light from the laser beam, and the crackling noise as it burned through the wallboard allowed the intruder to jump safely backward into the doorway. He banged into the door, which caused it to partially close and his return laser fire to strike the wall high over my head. It cut a large picture frame hanging on the wall in half. The pieces crashed to the floor, and shards of glass sprayed in all directions. Several ripped through my nightgown, striking me in my side and legs. I felt the impact and knew I had probably been cut, but the rush of adrenalin that flooded me negated the pain for now.

I transferred the weapon to my right hand and focused on the door. Although it was still the dead of night and the moon only a sliver, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I could make out the outline of the doorway into the living room. I waited, ready to kill anything that appeared in the opening. My finger tightened on the trigger as the door was eased open, but instead of a person, a flaming towel came flying through the doorway and onto the bed, igniting the bedcovers, and they burst into flame. With the door now a little more than half open, my opponent could see the bed, precluding me from attempting to put out the fire. Soon, the bedding began to smoke. I reached over and pulled the cover toward me and rolled away, thinking the carpet wouldn't burn as easily as the bed, giving me more time to…burn. I gave a mental snort. There was little I could do. The shooter could just wait until I passed out from the smoke or shoot me if I tried to leave. Then it dawned on me. We were both using lasers, which were relatively silent and wouldn't alert my guard in the hallway—assuming the shooter came in through the balcony window. I switched to projectiles and fired a burst at the partial opening I could see from my position. The noise sounded loud but no guard appeared, which meant help wasn't coming. A second later, the shadow of an arm appeared and an Mfw began spitting projectiles, which confirmed my guard was down. The projectiles destroyed the bed, the night table, and the dresser as the shooter waved the weapon on full automatic in a right to left arc. As I lay flat on the floor, the heavy wooden bed frame shielded me. When the firing paused, I rolled onto my knees and lunged at the door, hoping he had emptied the projectile's magazine. If not, I was in bad trouble…well, worse trouble. I slammed into the door, which in turn rammed into the shooter. He grunted, and I heard his weapon hit the floor and a moment later a thud I thought and hoped was the shooter falling.

I jerked open the door ready to fire while searching for the shooter, who I hoped was unarmed now. I saw movement and swung my Mfw in that direction, preparing to shoot, but it was too late. Before I could aim, the shadow rolled away. Then I saw a flash of metal and felt a burning sensation across my shoulder—a knife, I realized, as I heard it clank to the floor. In panic, I reached for Red. To my relief, the gash was a centimeter from where Red lay wrapped around my neck. I looked back to see a shadow dash across the room. I fired too late once more, destroying the chair and couch he dove behind. Having at best only a burst or two remaining, I switched back to the laser setting, noting the remaining charge was also low. He suddenly popped up, and a flash from a laser caused me to dive behind the second couch. It was obvious we were both going to die—either from smoke inhalation or we'd burn to death if we stayed. But neither of us could leave without a truce, which wasn't likely to happen. He might also have been low on laser power and projectiles, but I wagered he had other throwing knives. I didn't and wouldn't know how to effectively throw one if I did. I had Red but didn't want to risk him getting killed. I laughed. I appeared to have lots of choices on how l wanted to die. I put the odds of a successful run to the door to the hallway at one in a hundred. I'd be shot before I got the door open. Red might make it to the shooter and strike him but would have no protection. He'd be killed and I'd die of the virus. If we continued using our Mfws, we would likely run out of power or ammo and it would mean hand-to-hand combat. I had Red, but he had a knife and was undoubtedly trained in close-quarters fighting. And if we waited too much longer, we would either burn or suffocate to death.

Then the shooter laughed. Damned if I saw anything funny to laugh about. "See you in hell, bitch," he shouted, and I heard the pop, pop, pop of his Mfw as the glass door to the terrace shattered.

"Shit," I muttered as I dove toward the window and away from the bedroom door as cool outside air rushed in and flames exploded like a flame thrower out of the bedroom into the living room area. The bedroom was now a raging inferno, and the fire was quickly spreading across the living room. While I lay trying to breathe, hot air filled my lungs and I heard the door to the hallway open; I realized the shooter had taken the opportunity to exit. I couldn't even if I could make it across the burning room to the door, since he would be waiting for me to exit. I emptied my remaining projectiles into the window I lay under. It cracked and then exploded outward. I jumped through the opening and landed on sheets of broken glass, sliding into the terrace railing. I wasn't safe there, as it was likely the remaining windows would soon explode outward, shredding me in the process. I had to move or die, but my body was drained and weakened from the abuse I had taken and lack of oxygen. I laughed when Red struck me in the neck. "Bad timing, Red," I muttered, amused despite the situation. Several seconds later, my body felt like it was on fire and energy flowed through me like hot lava. Revived, I crawled over the railing, lowered myself until I was dangling from the cement platform, and began swinging back and forth. As my legs swung inward, I let go and landed on my back onto the terrace below mine. Blackness engulfed me.

* * *

I woke in bed, remembering the nightmare. It had seemed so real, I thought as I snuggled deeper into the blankets for a few more minutes of rest…but burning pain assaulted me and I felt like I was on fire. I collapsed back, and slowly the pain lessened. When I could breathe normally again, I opened my eyes and realized I wasn't in a hotel bed; my arms were bandaged…no, my entire body had gauze wrapped everywhere. Scanning the room, I saw three marines in battle gear. One was Pannell.

"How bad?" I asked, knowing the IV contained something to reduce the pain and to make me feel way better than I should.

"If the maid hadn't found you, you would have died of hypothermia, or blood loss, or the space gods only know what. You're a mess, although Dr. Renata told me none of it is critical: cuts, burns, and bruising, mostly. Several minor laser burns that won't cause any lasting damage." He shook his head. I immediately reached up and stroked Red, who seemed all right. "I told them Red wouldn't bother them when nobody wanted to touch you." He laughed. "Thankfully he didn't, and they managed to get you to the local hospital. By that time, Dr. Renata had arrived. What happened, Anna?"

"I woke to a man opening my bedroom door…" I went on to explain what I heard, saw, and did.

"He killed the two guards I had stationed in the hallway," Pannell said, and I could feel his pain and frustration. Pain over the death of his men and frustration in not being able to stop the attacks on me. Are you up for a visitor?" He continued when I nodded. "Commissioner Bailey would like to speak with you, and Commander Cooper is also waiting."

"Send them both in," I said. I was too tired to visit police headquarters, and the faster I finished, the faster we could leave Black Water. Not that I thought leaving the system would stop the attempts on my life, but I wanted to get back home to Alexa—for her sake and mine.

Commissioner Bailey was a short, stocky man of middle age who looked physically fit in spite of his position and lack of physical activity. His face had some wrinkles, and his curly brown hair had specks of gray, but his frame looked hard and he had no middle-age spread.

"Good morning, Admiral Paulus," he said with a hint of uncertainty. "Since you got hurt under my watch, I thought I would come visit you by way of apology."

"Call me Anna, Commissioner, and thanks for coming. Colonel Pannell will want to get me back on the Taranis as soon as possible. I suspect the reason I was attacked is the same reason I wanted to see you…" I went through my standard explanation of how I identified the problem and what I wanted from him.

"You and Commander Cooper will have my full support," he replied when I had finished. We decided that Bailey, his detectives, and Cooper would review the records and report back to me their findings rather than waiting for me to recover. Later that day, Pannell had me moved to the dispensary on the Taranis. The following day, Cooper met with me on the cruiser. They had identified eight women who met the profile: two each year over the last four years.

We left the next day for Holy Star, a four-day trip.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Star System: Holy Star

Commander Weaver gave me a snappy salute as I cleared the shuttle. He stuck out his hand. "Welcome to Holy Star, Admiral Paulus," he said, smiling as he appraised his new, very young boss. This was the first time I'd met Weaver, although he had been a NIA station chief before I was appointed to the Eastar station. He had communicated with Banner and Pannell before we arrived and had our transportation waiting for us.

"How is the inspection of the NIA stations going?" he asked conversationally, but I could feel it was a probe into my agenda.

"Actually, I'm visiting each system to work with the police commissioners. Getting to meet the folks who run the NIA stations has been a pleasant bonus."

"I had heard two station chiefs retired." Although a statement, it was really a question, Forced out?

"They didn't like the idea of working for someone so young and inexperienced. I understood their frustration. They had considerable time in grade, far more than me. And the fact that I look like I should be wearing lieutenant or at most lieutenant commander rank made it worse."

He nodded rather sagely. "It's easy to imagine you deserved an out-of-zone promotion more than another, especially when they come so slowly in peace time. Who wants to admit you haven't done anything to justify it." He laughed, nodding toward my medals. "I've never seen so many purple hearts." His eyes went to Pannell, who gave a disgusted look.

"She earned another at Black Water." He glared at me, but I could see the pain in his eyes. "Admiral Paulus has an uncanny knack for exposing the truly evil criminals in our society," he said in frustration. Weaver looked to me.

"I should let Paul lock me up. Good men are dying to protect me, and I hate it. But…" I went on to give a short synopsis of the attack and the reason I wanted to speak with the police commissioner. While we waited, he called a staff meeting, which included everyone. He was a confident leader and was happy for me to take control of the meeting.

"You have an interesting style, Admiral. It's so easy and natural that one misses how focused it is. Like a well-trained herding dog leading the sheep home…not to imply—" he hurriedly continued before I could comment.

"I like that better than Vice Admiral Lulltrel calling me a bloodhound, pit bull mix," I said, which invoked a hearty laugh.

"Two sides of the same coin: the teacher and the leader," he said thoughtfully.

I wasn't sure if I were a teacher but I liked the imagery. We met with Commissioner Lindgren the next day.

"It's nice to meet you Admiral Paulus. You're one of the rumor mill’s favorite people. Often true of people who are doing something while the rest of us are stuck in our quiet routines," he said, holding out his hand, which I took. His handshake was firm, his smile welcoming, and his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I assume you're chasing something?" he asked. He was a big man in height and girth, and he had a round face with a curly beard that appeared to be an extension of the full head of curly reddish-brown hair that covered his ears.

"Thank you, Commissioner Lindgren. Anna, please. You're correct. While checking a marine man's daughter who went missing…" I gave him the long version, wanting his and the other commissioner's full cooperation, since it would take that and more to solve this case. When I finished, he sat back rubbing his chin.

"I can see your problem, Colonel," he said, looking at Pannell. I doubt any of us would have figured out these missing women were unique. Just more missing persons. We certainly would never have concluded it was a UAS problem, and therefore, the criminals would have had little chance of being discovered. It's easy to understand why they are so upset—like you found their footprints on the path leading to their safehouse." He roared with laughter, then tapped on his tablet. "Suzzie, get Harrison and Moorse up here." He looked at me. "They are my missing persons detectives." We spent the next ten hours reviewing missing persons cases going back five years and found five cases that matched our profile: one this year, two the year before, one the year before that, and one four years before.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised since you found several at each of the other systems. But you have to give the criminals credit. It's clever…and amazing none of the women have…" He stopped talking suddenly and picked up his tablet. After a minute, he spoke. "Hey, Doc, do you still have that Jane Doe's body?" He listened for a moment. "Come with me, Anna," he said, rising. I followed him to the elevator, which descended to a subbasement level and opened into a maze of offices and rooms I recognized through their windows as autopsy examination rooms. He opened the door to a room lined with metal drawers where a short, pudgy man stood in a white lab coat. "This is our chief medical examiner. Doc, this is Admiral Paulus. She's looking into missing women and I think our Jane Doe may be one of the women she's looking for."

"Nice to meet you, Admiral Paulus." VanHorn appraised me from head to toe before continuing. "Personal?" he asked.

"Anna, please. No. I'm searching for a specific group of women who appear to have been abducted, not runaways," I said.

He nodded, walked over to a bank of drawers, and stood with his hand on the middle one. "This woman was a drug addict for a long time, probably homeless, judging by her mismatched and inappropriate clothing for this weather and her malnourished condition." He looked to me but didn't move. When I nodded, thinking his pause was a question—Do you wish to see her, it's not pretty—he slid open the drawer and uncovered her face. She was close to being a skeleton. Her face looked to have no fat or muscle, her eyes sunken deep into her skull, and her hair thinning like a very old woman. I took out my tablet and slowly scanned through the facial pictures of the women as I tried to imagine what Jane Doe's face would have looked like before she was kidnapped. I stopped when I found the picture of Lillian Barnes from Oasis, abducted forty-one months ago, and handed my tablet to VanHorn. He spent several minutes comparing his autopsy results to the physical information I had on Lillian.

"She appears to be a match, but we would need her DNA or fingerprints to prove it. Even her parents' or siblings' DNA would work," said VanHorn eventually. "There are multiple signs of new and old trauma injuries." VanHorn had tears in his eyes. "I hope you find the bastard who abducted her."

I couldn't help wondering how a beautiful young girl wound up here looking like that. The drugs she was on would destroy her physically over time, but she had had some pretty rough treatment.

"She will," Pannell said with a certainty that I hoped was right. And Red gave an unusual hiss I felt deep in my bones as his commitment to help. Silly, maybe, but it certainly echoed my commitment to see whoever was responsible punished to the full extent of the law.

* * *

"Banner, send the following message to all NIA stations, except New Zheng. And be sure to use Crazy Numbers," I said, back on the Taranis as the cruiser was preparing to depart for New Zheng.

Your top priority is to obtain DNA from family members, parents or siblings, for the missing women we identified as meeting the Magic Act profile. You are to forward that information to Commander Damon, Eastar Station Chief, who will update our database. The updated database will be disseminated and should be used to check Jane Does, both past and present.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Star System: Undisclosed - Choices

Susan Guzman woke laying on an old mattress in a dark room. Her head ached, and she had trouble focusing. She couldn't remember what she had been doing before she got here—wherever here was. In fact, she was having trouble remembering what day or even what month it was, much less what happened over the last few days. The last thing she remembered was sitting in a classroom listening to a lecture…but she couldn't remember the subject or why she had been there. Her mind felt in chaos and she couldn't seem to focus. She gave up and decided to determine where she was. There was no light in the room, so she stood with her hand on the wall and began walking. She stumbled as she stepped off what she thought a mattress, but the wall kept her from falling. After several minutes, she had determined the room was roughly four steps square, maybe ten to twelve meters, had one door, which was locked, and was empty except for the mattress and a pot which she guessed was to relieve herself. She concluded she was a prisoner. The question was whether that was good or bad. If she had been kidnapped for money, that might not be so bad. Her father would pay whatever they asked, and the negotiations wouldn't take more than a day or two. If she hadn't been kidnapped for money, that might be very bad—torture and rape by some madman over weeks or months, ending in death.

She slept off and on for shorts periods of time, relieving herself in between naps. She was hungry, thirsty, and close to panic as her imagination created various scenarios that became progressively worse as the time passed and no one came. The smell of piss and shit made her wonder if she had been abandoned to die of dehydration and hunger in revenge for some act she or her father had committed.

Relief flooded her when the door opened and light illuminated the room. A man of average height and build with a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee entered the room. Her relief faded as he approached and she saw the evil look in his eyes. She stumbled back until the wall stopped her. He hadn't moved. Then he waved toward the door.

"Come," he said with a sneer. For a moment Susan considered staying in her bare and stinking room rather than following the man. But common sense told her she had no choice and would be better off knowing her fate than speculating. She cautiously exited the door into a well-lit room with a rectangular table that had eight padded chairs. To her astonishment, the table had a white tablecloth and contained a variety of food and drinks. Susan's month watered, and she was tempted to rush there. She was thirsty and starved but froze when she looked into the eyes of the woman facing her on the opposite side of the table. Dressed all in black, she didn't look evil like the well-dressed man who had come to fetch her—more like death personified.

"We need to talk, but you should eat first. You must be starved. I apologize, but we were unavoidably delayed," the woman said in a soft voice that nevertheless commanded her to obey. She sat, poured a glass of water, and gulped it down and then another. Finally, she examined the bowls of steaming food. Scanning the table, she could hardly believe her eyes. A shrimp appetizer, a green-looking soup, a tossed salad with nuts, steak, half a chicken, a slab of fish, mashed potatoes, a pie next to a chocolate cake, as well as a pot of coffee and a bottle of red wine. Starving, she filled her plate and ate. The food was hot and delicious. Susan didn't know what to make of the bizarre situation—one minute a prisoner and the next rescued? But she was too hungry to worry about it for now. Feeling stuffed after a salad, soup, and two plates full of steak, fish, and potatoes, a large slice of chocolate cake, and several cups of coffee, she sat back and looked at the woman, who sat quietly waiting, looking like she was half asleep.

"Why did you kidnap me?" Susan asked the question she had been avoiding. The scrumptious meal had made her feel human again but hadn't allayed her fears. In a way, it had heightened them. The better the treatment, the bigger the bill when it came.

"This is one of those life-changing events that sometimes occurs in a person's life. They can be good or bad, but they can't be avoided." The woman smiled, and Susan knew she wasn't going to like what was coming as sure as she knew she couldn't avoid it. "I will give you three choices. You're free to choose."

"What if I don't like the choices?"

"Like life, our options are not always good. You may bitch and complain, but it changes nothing. For example, imagine you contract an incurable disease. You may choose treatment to prolong your life a few months at the cost of much pain or choose to let nature take its course and avoid the painful treatment, or you may choose to take the easy way out and kill yourself. On the surface, you have no good choices. Life has dealt you a nasty hand, but you have no recourse. You must choose from those options available to you. But just maybe one of those available choices potentially has a favorable outcome: if you chose treatment, your increased longevity lets you live long enough that a cure is discovered. Or choosing to let nature take its course, you find the diagnosis was wrong and you go on to live a normal life, whereas treatment would have had an adverse effect that left you paralyzed. Therefore, taking your life could have precluded you from a potentially long and wonderful life."

"I assume ransom isn't one of my three choices," Susan asked, afraid the disease example wouldn't be very far from her available options.

"Correct," the woman said in that same soft and deadly tone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Star System: New Zheng

I sat thinking about home and Alexa as the shuttle descended toward the planet New Zheng. At least this was the last stop and in a few days we would be heading back to Eastar, a three-day hop. When the hatch opened and I departed, I saw a somewhat overweight lieutenant commander waiting. He saluted.

"Welcome to New Zheng, Admiral Paulus. Commander Gardner submitted his retirement papers and was officially retired two days ago. Vice Admiral Lulltrel appointed me as the acting NIA station chief," he said hurriedly, as if he had rehearsed it and wanted to get it out before he forgot. "Oh, I'm Lieutenant Commander Morrison." He gave me a weak smile. The man seemed unreasonably nervous, even for facing an unknown admiral. Or just maybe facing an admiral who was rumored to be cleaning house. And if Commander Gardner had suspected he was next and had said something derogatory to Morrison…

I introduced Morrison to my party while I thought about the situation and what possible effect Commander Gardner had on the station before he left—and for that matter, his management of the station over the years if he were in such a hurry to leave.

"Commander, I assume you have reservations for me at some hotel?" I asked and continued when he nodded. "Good. While I freshen up and get settled, would you help Lieutenant Banner get me an appointment with the police commissioner and call an expanded staff meeting to include all of the NIA station personnel?" I said and waited while Morrison gave Pannell the reservation information and then left with Banner.

"That was kind, ma'am," Stamm said with a smile. "Hopefully David can calm the commander."

"I'd like him thinking rather than worrying about all the bad things he's imagining are going to happen because of Commander Gardner's escape. It will be our job to figure out why Gardner decided to retire."

"The rumors, ma'am?" Stamm suggested.

"I doubt it, Carl. As Admiral Lulltrel told me, you can't fire anyone without justifiable cause. Consequently, Gardner merely had to stick to 'yes ma'am, no ma'am' to keep his current position no matter what I may have thought of him. No, I think he was afraid I'd discover something that would result in court martial charges." I laughed. "And it's your task to discover what."

Stamm stood quiet for a few minutes then smiled. "I serve at your will, ma'am."

"If my Master Chief can't find out what it is, I'll have to doubt my opinion of who really runs the military."

"We can't have that, ma'am. Wouldn't look good for my admiral to look like she didn't know everything worth knowing." He snapped off a quick salute and disappeared. Pannell smiled.

"That was clever, Anna," Pannell said and gave a snort. "Master chiefs know everything that's going on because their information network extends across services. They usually keep their findings quiet and address any problems among themselves. But Stamm's very fond of you and respects you. I think he and many of the other chiefs who know you consider you one of them."

I laughed. "Paul, can you just see me as a Gunny?"

Paul gave a genuine laugh. "The physical image isn't as unbelievable as the rhetoric image," Paul said, then continued in a soft female-sounding voice, "Sergeant Clark, why do you think you failed to achieve your objective…" Paul then switched to imitating a gunny sergeant shouting. "Sergeant dumbass, that gnat-sized brain you have rattling around in your Neanderthal skull might work better if you got it out of your ass…" Then he began laughing. I couldn't help joining in.

* * *

Morrison and Banner had arranged for the meeting with Commissioner Hoffman just after lunch and the expanded staff meeting at eight hundred hours the next day with assurances from Banner that Admiral Paulus would find those arrangements acceptable.

"Morrison was scared to death you were looking for any reason to retire or demote him if the staff meeting wasn't ready the minute the meeting with the commissioner ended. Apparently, Gardner has been belittling you for months and suggested that you hated men and you trumped up charges against Commanders Steward and Devore to force them to retire. And implied Morrison was next," Banner said when he returned several hours later. "I tried to assure him the staff meeting would be interesting and nothing for him to worry about. I don't know whether I succeeded or not. What he needs is a few tranquilizers before the meeting starts."

"Thanks for trying, David. I can understand his concern given the rumor mill's spin on the two retirements and Gardner's apparent hostility. I just hope the majority of NIA station folks will take my message to heart—focus on your responsibilities and the promotions and accolades will take care of themselves."

"You've convinced me, ma'am."

* * *

"According to the rumors, you're the wicked witch from Eastar who has earned her rank by taking credit for others' work, hates men, and makes up false charges to get rid of those who won't bend to your will," Commissioner Hoffman said as I entered his office. He had risen from his desk and came around with his hand extended. "Translation, you're a no-nonsense woman who doesn't tolerate fools, and those impressive medals show you earned your rank on your own back." He smiled as we shook hands. "But I'm intrigued as to why you wanted a meeting with me." He waved for me to sit. Pannell shook his head when he looked to him.

"According to your comments, you're a streetwise policeman who came up through the ranks and you’re not one to take lightly," I said. He laughed. "I'm seeking your help to get rid of some evil people who think we're fools and the UAS is their private playground," I said and recounted my story about Guzman's daughter and my findings to date. Ten minutes later, he had the records on his conference room table and two detectives helping us review them. He had dinner served in the room, and we didn't finish until nearly midnight.

"Why do you think New Zheng only had three cases and none in years three, four, and five?" Hoffman asked after we had finished.

"I believe their operations began in the systems in the northern quadrant: Oasis, Westar, Shadows Rest, and Safe Harbor. They are the only systems that had activity five years ago. Then it spread to Oxax, Fire Rock, Truth Star, Black Water, and Holy Star. Last year, their operation finally reached you."

"So, I can expect an increase in activity," he said as a fact and not as a question.

"I believe so. Keep an eye on Jane Does. Shortly I'll be circulating DNA along with their pictures and other information on the missing women. Preferably we can find one or more of these women alive."

* * *

I entered the NIA conference room several seconds after Banner had shouted attention. There seemed to be fewer people than I thought were on the payroll.

"At ease. Commander Morrison, is everyone present?" I asked in a normal but soft tone. Everyone looked ready to duck under the table at the first sign of trouble, which they expected any second.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and I could sense he wanted to say more but couldn't get the words out. Fear had him paralyzed.

"Good. Would anyone like to guess why I'm here?" I asked, looking around the table at each individual.

There was silence for a long while, but then a young brunette with long hair framing a thin, serious face spoke. "To clean house," she stated in a firm voice.

"To inspect the station," a small, redheaded ensign said a few seconds later. She looked very young and sounded nervous but looked determined. I noticed none of the men spoke, and they looked to be trying to keep their heads down.

"That's the trouble with the rumor mill. About half the time it's fifty percent fact and fifty percent speculation. The other fifty percent of the time it's full of speculation by people who like to claim to be in the know—and aren't." That got a few tentative smiles. "Actually, I'm running an errand for Admiral Webb that has given me an opportunity to stop in and meet the men and women who make the NIA the premier organization it is today." Except for me being an unknown admiral that would have started the whole room talking—well, whispering side comments. It certainly helped to reduce the tension. I stood and removed my jacket before sitting again. "To accomplish that, I'd like to go around the room and hear each of you tell me your name, position, and what you are working on. Consider me a new recruit to the group who is interested in getting brought up to speed." The session went on for two days, and each hour the tension lessened. By the second day, people were open and forthcoming.

* * *

"Ma'am, the skinny is that Commander Gardner could be bribed to overlook actual findings and help the individual avoid prosecution. He blamed it on the glory-seeking admiral at headquarters who was sucking up to influential people for favors for her out-of-zone promotions. And he blamed the staff shortages on you diverting funds for your special projects, when in fact he was pocketing the money for salaries of people who didn't exist," Stamm said as Pannell, Morrison, Banner, Stamm, and I sat in Morrison's office late that afternoon.

"Sounds like Hoffman was right. I'm a nasty bitch who got my rank by sucking up to the right people and will eventually rid the NIA of you incompetent males," I said, shaking my head in disgust. That elicited an assortment of laughs, snorts, and chokes. "Morrison, I imagine you were aware that Gardner was less than perfect," I said, stating it as a question.

"Yes, ma'am. Not the specifics. But he ordered me to stop investigations and not to press charges many times when we had ample proof for a conviction. And he threatened me on many occasions, indicating if I didn't cooperate he'd see me court martialed. I believed him. I'd bet he could cover his actions in a way that made me look guilty. I love working for the NIA but…"

"Commander, I'm going to give you an opportunity to prove to me you should be managing the New Zheng station. I want you and your people to review the last several years' activities and identify and document activities that need action. Include a review of the station's financial transactions. This is not a witch hunt against Gardner. It's an audit, which you are in charge of. If I find your audit thorough, unbiased, and factual, I will consider making you the permanent station chief. If not, there will be no repercussions, but I will eventually assign another individual to be the station commander." I gave him a warm smile to reinforce what I had said.

"Ma'am, if I may," Stamm said nodding to Morrison.

"Yes, Master Chief," I said.

"Commander Morrison. Our boss prizes honesty, whether it reflects favorably or unfavorably on your activities, unlike others who tend to punish honesty when they don't like the message."

"Ma'am, we have just enough time to freshen up and meet Commissioner Hoffman for your dinner," Banner said, looking down at his tablet.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Sorry, Colonel. I didn't think it wise to turn down the commissioner's dinner invitation. Besides, I like him…and you know how I like to suck up to people with influence," I said without grinning. Pannell just shook his head.

* * *

The Stockyard restaurant wasn't what I was expecting—not exactly. Oh, it had the rustic exterior made from what looked like logs, and inside it had refrigerated display cases where you could select the slab of meat you wanted from a large variety of herding animals. But inside, it had an old-world elegance that gave me a sense of reverence. The tables were set with china, crystal, and silverware that sat on white linen with silver and gold thread running through it. The long windows had red satin drapes, the floors were made of a rich redwood, and the waiters dressed in formal attire. The commissioner rose as the maître d' led me to his table. Uncharacteristically, Red hissed as we crossed the room. Scanning the room, I didn't see anything to warrant the hiss. Of course, there were at least seventy people in the room.

"I'm surprised they let you keep your weapon," Hoffman said, nodding to my oversized shoulder bag. "Weapons have always been forbidden and are collected at the door."

"Colonel Pannell wouldn't let me come without a weapon. I can't blame him. It does appear that I'm a very high-risk individual because of Red's value on the black market and the current group I'm chasing. He pulls out his P1A card and they have no choice."

"Pannell has P1A authority to guard you?" His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"It's a long story," I said and shrugged.

"We have all night." He smiled and ordered a bottle of wine. I sat, deciding where to start, thinking back to the Smugglers project, when shots rang out. By the sound, the shots were coming from the lobby behind me. I rose to look but stopped when Red hissed with his head pointing back into the dining room. As I scanned the tables, everyone was looking toward the lobby, although from varying positions: some had turned in their seats, some stood, some knelt half under the table or behind a chair, and a few had flung themselves flat on the floor. Then I noticed two men sitting at a table in the far corner of the room staring at me. The largest of the two rose with a laser as I thrust my hand into my handbag, found my Mfw, and thumbed to activate the laser. Although he drew first, I had merely to pull the trigger. The laser cut through the handbag's material without affecting its lethal beam. I won by a fraction of a second. Although my first shot wasn't perfectly aimed or lethal, the pain from a laser to his right side caused the big man's shot to go wild. My second shot less than a second later was a fatal shot to his left eye. As he stumbled backward, the wiry man with short black hair who had been sitting with him exited the table in a low crouch. He weaved behind tables and people and into the door to the kitchen and I'd wager out a back entrance. I idly wondered if that was the same man who had attacked me on Black Water. His size and agility appeared right, I mused, deep in thought.

I suddenly realized the dining room had erupted into chaos, as people couldn't decide which direction to flee for safety. Several seconds later, Pannell and two marines entered the room, and everyone fled into the lobby.

Hoffman didn't say anything but joined Pannell at the far wall, where a man sat slumped against the wall. Paul felt for a pulse in the man's neck, then shook his head. "Dead," he said to Hoffman. Pannell used a napkin to pick up the man's laser and handed it to the police commissioner. "The gunfire in the front of the building was a diversion. This man was the real assassin."

"I thought you unnecessarily paranoid when you insisted Anna carry a weapon into the restaurant." He gave a small laugh. "Besides, being navy, I doubted she could hit anything if she found the safety."

Hoffman insisted we stay and finish the wine while Paul and I gave our statements, and over another bottle, we talked about our encounters over the years. We boarded the shuttle back to the Taranis just as the sun rose, announcing the start of another day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Star System: Eastar – Home at Last

Alexa had the door open before I reached it. I ran into her embrace, feeling loved and safe. Even Red seemed glad to be home as he wrapped around both our necks.

"How was your trip?" Alexa asked, holding me at arm's length while inspecting me, then glancing toward Pannell.

"I think the criminals are beginning to believe your daughter is a witch. In truth, I believe it," Pannell said, shaking his head. "The criminals are clever, ingenious in some cases, and get by my guards and me—and still fail time after time."

"I appreciate Paul and his troops protecting me, but I hate it. While I get hurt, they get killed giving me warning and time to prepare and find cover."

Alexa pulled me into a tight embrace. You each have a job to do. Your job is to catch evil criminals. Paul and his marines' job is to keep you alive to do your job."

* * *

"Was your trip successful?" Alexa asked when we had settled down on the couch in the living room after a steak and shrimp dinner and a triple-layered lemon cake with Welcome Home in yellow icing to celebrate my homecoming.

"The pills Dr. Renata gave me helped me to sleep but made me drowsy for several hours after I woke. And even with the pills, many nights I lay awake shaking and sweating with fear of… I missed you, Mother," I said, feeling like a young child who was afraid of the dark and thought unseen monsters were creeping into her room.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Daughter. Even Dr. Renata acknowledges she's amazed that you are functional, much less able to work after your experience on the FPU cruiser." She reached out and took my hands in her. "I am glad you're home. I'll do my best to love the fear out of you. Together we'll fight the demons."

"Thank you, Mother. The trip was interesting…" We talked late into the night and hours more after I crawled into bed with her. I didn't get much sleep, but I was finally at peace.

* * *

"Ma'am, Admiral Lulltrel has called for a special staff meeting this morning."

"And I'm already late." I smiled, and he nodded. I double-timed it to her conference room and entered.

"Attention!" Spalding shouted as she entered only seconds after me.

"At ease." She waved as she sat. "I thought Paulus could bring us up to date, as she has missed the last seven or eight staff meetings," She said and a small grin touched her lips. "I understand your problem with nonattendance at your staff meetings."

"Being an admiral on a war cruiser is an unforgettable experience," I began knowing she wasn't interested in my accommodations and received an impatient look from Lulltrel. "The police commissioners were very cooperative after I explained I wasn't there to review their handling of the cases. Together we've identified ninety missing women over the past five years who met the profile we developed here on Eastar. I'm circulating the women's pictures and information to the NIA offices and the police commissioners who have all agreed to work cooperatively with us," I said. When the side comments stopped, I continued. "There were two attempts on my life…well, three, but only two were related to the missing women…" I had to recount each incident in detail. During my account of the incidents, Lulltrel looked to Pannell, who quietly threw up his hands in defeat.

"On Blackwater, we think we finally found one of the missing women," I said and went on to explain what the medical examiner had said. "I'm having the NIA stations collect DNA samples from the missing women or their parents. When they finish, we'll be able to know positively whether she is one of the missing women and we'll have a database if the problem arises again."

"It's sex trafficking after all," Hadley blurted and everyone nodded. "They kidnap women and get them on drugs so they are dependent and cooperative."

"That may be true…but I think it's more complicated than that," I said, loud enough to be heard, although I hadn't realized I was voicing my thoughts.

"Why, Anna?" Lulltrel asked.

"Don't get me wrong, ma'am. It could be exactly what Hadley said. I'm having my folks coordinate with the medical examiners on each system. If that's it, then we should find a lot of the missing women listed as Jane Does."

"But you don't think we will," Lulltrel said, frowning in my direction.

"Some, but not all. I have no proof, but the criteria is too specific to be that simple an explanation."

"Project Magic Act is the NIA's highest priority, Anna," Lulltrel said. "What do you need from us?"

"Ideas, thoughts. Right now, all I have is conjectures—we have a criminal organization operating across the UAS kidnapping women who meet a specific profile. That seems like a solid conjecture, but some proof is necessary to be certain. In the meantime, we need to start on determining how, why, and who."

"Spalding, see if Admiral Webb has time for an update."

* * *

"What did Webb have to say, ma'am?" Stamm asked at my staff meeting the next day.

"After he stopped threatening the kidnappers with an assortment of increasingly dire consequences, he informed Captain Martz she was to be available on twenty-four hours' notice to take me anywhere I needed to go, informed Pannell to increase my security, and informed me the shit-eating parasites were my only priority and I had his permission to gut shoot them when I found them."

"Gut shoot them?" Banner asked, his forehead wrinkled in thought.

"A very slow and painful way to die," Stamm said, looking far off as if remembering some long-ago incident.

"Damon, the Magic Act is now officially an NIA priority project. You and the other NIA station chiefs will need to partner with your respective police commissioners to collect information and look for clues to the kidnapping ring and the kidnapped women's existence," I said. The kidnapping operation was too big and widespread for the criminals not to be leaving clues. We just needed to find them. "Banner, send the following message to all the NIA station chiefs using Crazy Numbers, and copy Admiral Lulltrel and her staff," I said.

Project Magic Act is the NIA's number-one priority. Attached is the latest information we have accumulated on each of the missing women. Each update is to be shared with the police commissioner at your station. As the police identify new cases, you are to forward that information to Commander Damon, who will update the database and redistribute it to ensure that you have the latest information. Don't forget to include DNA information if new kidnapped cases are identified. The updated database is to be given to the police commissioner and their medical examiner. There is a strong possibility that some of our missing women will turn up as Jane Does. We think we found one such case on Blackwater—a Lillian Barnes from Oasis—and are in the process of getting DNA information to verify her identity.

Project Magic has been elevated to P1A status with strict need-to-know access. Consider every case you investigate as having a possible connection to the Magic Act project—the criminals have to move the women around; they need places to keep them, possible medical care, and normal supplies. But be careful. They are extremely dangerous.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Star System: Eastar – Bread Crumbs

"Ma'am, Commander Damon received the DNA results back from Oasis earlier today. The DNA from Lillian Barnes's parents confirms a familia match," Banner said, looking down at his tablet.

"Good," I said, knowing that Barnes would not consider it good, but at least it would give them closure if not comfort. And it was the first bread crumb we had managed to find. If we were lucky, it wouldn't be the last and would eventually provide a trail to the kidnappers. "David, send the following message to all NIA chiefs."

The Jane Doe on Black Water has been positively identified as Lillian Barnes through our recent DNA database. Make sure the police commissioners and medical examiners are aware of this development. Since Miss Barnes was one of the oldest missing women in our database—forty-one months—we should be particularly watchful of women who went missing four to five years ago, turning up as Jane Does.

* * *

I heard my tablet ping, and when I looked, a mail icon with Commander Alston's face appeared. I tapped on it to see:

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

One of Commissioner LaPlante's detectives discovered a woman who matched the picture and information for a Sophia Becker during a raid on a brothel located on the outskirts of the city. She claims to be Dora Cobb and has legal documentation from Amend identifying her as Dora Cobb. However, her DNA is a familiar match in our database for Sophia Becker. Please advise on how you want us to proceed.

Lieutenant Commander Alston

Acting NIA Sudan Station Chief

Just then, Stamm peeked in. "Ma'am, Commander Damon would like to talk to you."

I waved for him to let her enter. Two seconds later, she bounced into the room barely able to stop her forward motion to salute. "What do you think, ma'am?" she asked between gulps of air after having rushed up the stairs to my office. I waved her to a seat.

"About what, Commander?"

"The message from Commander Alston. You've seen it, haven't you, ma'am?"

"I'm impressed. You nearly beat Banner's electronic forwarding of the message."

Damon blushed. "I was excited, ma'am."

"Good. It's why I chose you. You find the work exciting and love what you do." I gave her an approving smile. "What do you think, Commander?" I asked and settled back in my chair.

She looked shocked for a moment, then pursed her lips in thought. "She or her captives had her name changed legally to make it more difficult to identify her. But I don't know why she would lie. I'd think she would be happy to be found, particularly by the police. That would mean she was safe from whoever kidnapped her."

"Unless…"

"Unless it was her idea to become a prostitute…" Damon's voice faded and her face reflected her rejection of that idea.

"Or…"

"Or…her captives have some hold over her." Damon's voice rose in excitement.

I think we need to find out. Banner, please notify Captain Martz I'd like to go to Sudan as soon as she can be ready. And send the following messages. The first message to Commander Devries.

Commander Devries, please check out any information Amend has on a Dora Cobb. Although she has legal papers from Amend stating she is Dora Cobb, we believe she is actually Sophia Becker from Fire Rock. Send your encrypted reply to me on the cruiser Taranis.

And the second message to Lieutenant Commander Alston:

Ask Commissioner LaPlante to hold the woman claiming to be Dora Cobb. I'd like to interview her. I'm en route via the cruiser Taranis. Estimated arrival in four days.

Lieutenant Banner, Master Chief, you two should stay on Eastar—"

"But ma'am—" Banner and Stamm began, but I silenced them with a hand.

"But if you think you must, I will require you wear a sidearm at all times and prove to Colonel Pannell you can hit what you're aiming at—and you spend at least an hour practicing every day we are traveling," I said, looking at Pannell, who nodded. "Stop grinning. If you fail to meet those conditions, I'll send you home on the first merchant ship going anywhere. Is that clear?" I shook my head as the nodding idiots tried unsuccessfully to look serious. They're crazy for wanting to go along, and I'm crazy for letting them, I mused. But I had to admit I liked the grinning fools.

* * *

"Mother, I'm off to Sudan," I shouted upstairs, thinking Alexa was there changing out of her work clothes. "They found one of the women and I want to interview her. I have a feeling she won't want to cooperate, and the commissioner can't hold her long on a misdemeanor. I'm hoping I can get her to verify some of my conjectures."

"Do you have time for dinner?" Alexa asked from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, I have a couple of hours. Captain Martz said it would take at least twelve hours before she could depart."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Star System: Sudan – Insights

When I arrived at the Taranis, there was a long line waiting to board. Reluctantly, I went to the front of the line. I didn't like jumping the line, but my rank all but required it—and to do otherwise would make me the talk of the ship. I was surprised to see Captain Martz waiting when my security and I were cleared to enter.

"Sorry for the short notice, Captain Martz. We found one of the missing women; however, I don't believe she will cooperate, and there are limits on how long the police can detain her on a misdemeanor charge of soliciting."

"No need to apologize. Admiral Webb was very clear that the Taranis would be operational in twenty-four hours after being notified if I wanted to remain her captain." She grinned. "He has a persuasive way of making his point." She waved off my reply. "I agree with Webb and will do everything I can to help you nail the bastards."

"Thank you, Captain," I said, feeling relieved she wasn't upset at being on call for me.

"Why do you think this woman won't cooperate? She was abducted and forced into prostitution. I would think you couldn't stop her talking."

"There is something about the criteria, and I suspect a legal name change, that makes this a well-thought-out operation. I'm afraid you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other for a long time."

* * *

"Colonel Pannell is trying to make a marine out of me," Banner said the second night out of Eastar. "I can hit the target if I have a minute to get ready." Banner's eyes darted to where Pannell was standing.

"No, David. He's trying to make sure you don't shoot one of our security and can keep yourself from getting killed when explosive projectiles are chasing you like angry bees from a hive you just smashed with a bat."

"That image is going to give me nightmares," Banner said, frowning.

"Good. I don't like the idea of having to find another aide-de-camp. I doubt there is another one dumb enough to want the position," I said, trying to maintain a suitably thoughtful expression.

"And you'd probably give me a bad review if I got shot."

"Definitely."

* * *

"Ma'am, you have a response from Commander Devries." He tapped on his tablet and the message appeared on mine.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

Court documents show that a Sophia Becker formally from Fire Rock petitioned for citizenship on Amend and a name change to Dora Cobb. The petition was approved just over two years ago. I verified that she no longer lives at the address listed on the petition.

From: Commander Devries

NIA Amend Station Chief

* * *

We entered Commissioner LaPlante's office just after noon three days after leaving Eastar. Pushing the Taranis at max acceleration, Martz had managed to shave a half day off the normal travel time.

"You made good time, Anna. It's fortunate, as the woman isn't cooperating, and she has lawyers insisting they be allowed to talk to her and to have her released under bail. A right she is entitled to under Sudan law."

"Have you interviewed her yet?"

"We started to, but she insisted on a lawyer. By law, we can continue to talk but she doesn't have to answer. We chose to stop pending your arrival and have been delaying the lawyers' access while we awaited," LaPlante said, looking clearly frustrated.

"Do me a favor, Commissioner. Interview her with her lawyers present. I'll watch from behind the one-way mirror. But delay releasing her for a couple of hours. When you finish the interview, put her in a holding cell with me," I said, and LaPlante smiled.

"That's sneaky."

"And in the best interests of her and the other women," I said, hoping that without lawyers and the police present, she might be a bit more forthcoming.

* * *

"Miss Cobb, we are considering arresting you for prostitution under Sudan law," Detective Linus said, having been briefed by the commissioner.

"Miss Cobb was in the building visiting a friend, which I doubt violates any Sudan laws," said one of the two men representing Cobb. His voice was calm and almost bored. He was the oldest of the two, with silver hair, and was dressed in an expensive tan suit. "She was not caught in the act of having sex, which isn't illegal unless you can prove she asked for and received money or an item of value for performing a sexual act. She was swept up in your officers' overzealous police action. I'm afraid you will have to arrest her or let her go, and if you arrest her, she will sue the city for false arrest." After a few more futile attempts at getting Cobb to tell the detective about her reason for being there or on Sudan, Linus appeared to give in.

"Miss Cobb, you will have to wait here while we process your paperwork," he said as he led her to the holding cell, closed the door, and locked it. I waited for him to leave the area before speaking.

"Miss Becker, I'm Anna. I would imagine your parents are going crazy with worry," I said, hoping to get a response. She whirled around and stared at me wide-eyed, her brown eyes filled with fear.

"You must be mistaken. I'm Dora Cobb from Amend," she said, regaining her composure.

"Legally that's true. But you were born Sophia Becker on Fire Rock and are officially listed as missing. Of course, you're no longer missing," I said, playing on the fear I noticed.

"Please, that would destroy my mother if…" tears formed in her eyes. "I haven't done anything wrong," she said defiantly.

"Sophia, I'm not with the local police. I'd like to help you and the ninety other women who are missing."

"You can't. If you try, you'll…destroy our lives and the lives of the ones we love." Her voice sounding like someone's dying wish.

"I don't understand." Her plea sounded more like one concerned for others than herself, which was strange given my assumption that she and the others had been abducted.

"I voluntarily signed a contract that precludes me from talking about the terms."

"Are you being paid for your services?"

"Yes. Quite nicely. I get a percentage of each contract."

"Do you have exclusive access to your account?" I couldn't help but think there had to be a catch.

"Yes, it's a major bank and only I have access."

"And if you break the contract?"

"I can't discuss that or the terms of the contract."

"Can you tell me the firm you work for?"

"Custom Escorts, Limited."

"Did you go to them voluntarily?"

"I don’t remember anything. One moment I was on Fire Rock and the next on some other planet. I don't know if they took me or had me taken or just found me—a man and a woman offered me the job."

"Were you coerced to take the job?"

"No. They gave me three choices. I chose one and signed a contract."

"Can you describe the man and woman?"

"I could but won't. I'll tell you the man was evil and liked to hurt people. But the woman…she never raised her voice and looked almost asleep most of the time, but even the evil little prick was scared of her." Sophia suddenly stood, and her face became hard. "Please don't tell anyone what I've told you. I hope it helps the others, but I'll deny I told you anything and call you a liar if you do. Telling won't help me. It could destroy me."

* * *

"Did you learn anything?" LaPlante asked after the woman had been released and exited the building with her lawyers. We had fetched coffee and retired to his office.

"Not much. She was reluctant to give me any details because it would violate a contract she claims she voluntarily signed."

"She has a contract…and works for them voluntarily?" LaPlante gave me an incredulous look. "You're joking."

"I think the contract is a legal fiction that this group would use to obscure any legal action against them and to make the women feel bound. It was one reason she wouldn't say much, but from what she did say and based on what we know so far, I think I have a general picture," I said, knowing it was one-tenth fact and nine-tenths conjecture. He nodded for me to continue. "They kidnap the women using drugs—Sophia didn't know how she got to wherever they took her. There they give her several options, one of which is to sign a contract binding her to silence and rewarding her if she agrees—"

"Rewarding her!" LaPlante slammed his fist on his desk so hard it sounded like a clap of thunder. "By making her a sex slave!"

"Yes. She claimed she was being well compensated." I held up my hand. "Of course, I'd wager the other options were far worse." I paused for a sip of my coffee to let him consider the women's situation. "They play with their minds—you volunteered, you're legally bound, the long-term benefits are excellent, etc. And I'm sure there are other threats about what would happen if they decided to ignore their contract."

"What could they do if she came to the police and told us everything?" LaPlante asked. "We would protect her until we rounded up the bastards."

"She doesn't know where their headquarters is, or the rest of the group. And the group has a legal contract. It's her word against theirs. And what if they told her parents she was a prostitute, a willing one who was well paid and enjoyed the life?"

LaPlante sat considering the issues, possibly imagining if it happened to his daughter. "They love her and would want her home," he said, but I could see it in his eyes: the shame, humiliation, doubt, even disgust some would have. "And then there are her friends, neighbors, potential employers… The contract has a term limit and an option to buy it out, and the name change means they can disown their old life by resuming their real name. Yes, evil but clever."

"You're saying we can't do anything?" His frown made his eyes into slits that pulsed anger and hate like activated lasers.

I laughed. "No, Commissioner LaPlante. Not while I can still draw a breath. I have fifteen NIA stations whose number-one priority is finding this kidnapping ring, the cooperation of fifteen police commissioners and their resources, and UAS authorization. Together we will find and destroy them," I said and watched LaPlante nod and his face turn into an evil grin.

* * *

"How did it go?" Martz asked at dinner that evening.

"Disappointing. I had hoped a survivor would be able to identify some of the players and detail the operation." I sat pushing chunks of stew meat around my plate. It didn't help. "But it's as complicated as I first conjectured. It's sex trafficking on a very sophisticated level. Even the victims are confused."

"How can an abducted woman who is made to provide sex on demand be confused?" Martz asked, her fork with a chuck of meat stopping centimeters before her open mouth.

"Contracts, options, benefits, and consequences…" I said, then went on to explain what I had found and surmised.

"So even if we find Susan Guzman, it might not matter," Colonel Russo said softly, his voice sad.

I nodded. "Please remember what I've just shared with you is classified at the P1A level. Leaks could jeopardize our catching those responsible as well as doing irreparable damage to the missing women. That includes General Guzman." I held Russo's stare until he nodded.

* * *

"Ma'am, you have an urgent message in your message box from Commander Damon." I clicked onto my message folder and then the message from Damon.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

I just received a message from Commander Newman indicating the Zaspa medical examiner has identified a Jane Doe as Dixie Banks from Westar. And another from Commander Hoffman stating the medical examiner from New Zheng identified an Amber Phelps from Holy Star. Both identifications were made using our Magic Act database.

From: Commander Damon

Eastar NIA Station Chief

"Banner, please send the following message from me to all NIA station commanders."

Please check your system's legal records for the last five years for name changes against our Magic Act database. The search is authorized under my P1A authority. Send your findings to Commander Damon, as she is responsible for maintaining our database.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Star System: Undisclosed – Decision Time

"Correct," the woman said softly, but she might as well have announced that the death sentence was an option. Maybe the death sentence wasn't the worst option, Susan mused, looking at the woman sitting across the food-laden table from her. She didn't look dangerous, sitting there totally relaxed with her eyes half closed, but she felt like the Grim Reaper in disguise. Even the evil man sitting against the wall felt it. She could tell by the way he looked at her when she talked or even changed position.

"All right, what disease do I have and what are my choices?" Susan asked, using the woman's previous example.

She gave a lazy smile and an appraising look. "I like you, Susan. You're very practical and smart." She continued to assess me. "The options are pretty much the same but with far more predictable results. There is the chemo option but with painful and unpleasant results. There is the option to let nature run its course with a potentially favorable outcome, and of course, the always-available suicide option."

Susan wondered how the let nature run its course provided a favorable outcome. "All right, I understand the suicide option. Not being religious, it ends all my options. I think I understand the chemo option. You get me hooked on something very addictive and I work for those drugs until I die mindless, debilitated, and young. But damn if I understand how the let nature option can have a favorable outcome." Susan frowned back at the woman, who, to her surprise, was clapping slowly and quietly.

"Very perceptive, Susan. Providing sex on demand will be unpleasant for a short time. You will be surprised how quickly it becomes like every other job—boring work. The difference is that you will get a percentage of the client's payment and you’re allowed to keep the tips. The result is that you will be a very wealthy woman before you're thirty. You will still be young enough to get married and have a family."

"How do I do that with…hundreds of men knowing my name and that I was a…working girl?"

"For the most part you will be an escort for men with money. They aren't all nice, but they are fools and can be manipulated. And we will have your name legally changed so all you have to do is revert back to your given name. Besides, the vast majority of the men you service will rather you didn't recognize them for a variety of reasons."

"And what's the fourth option?" Susan asked with a bit of amusement mixed with anger.

"There is no fourth option, my dear," she said, silently holding up one, then two, and finally three fingers.

"If I manage to run off with the help of one of my clients?"

The woman's smile sent ice sliding down Susan's spine, which spread to her arms and legs. In seconds her entire body was an icy cold.

"Then you will have changed your mind and decided on the chemo option. Ironically, I was wrong before when I said that option had no favorable outcome." Her smile somehow became even more evil, causing Susan's mind to whirl in chaos. "After what we do to your parents and that sweet sister of yours, those mind-numbing drugs will be welcome and the only place you will be able to find temporary relief."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Star System: Eastar – Waiting Results

"You're very knowledgeable for someone who has never had Bridge duty," Martz said after a leisurely tour of the Taranis's Bridge and letting me explore each of the stations' controls and functions.

"I'm a Navy Academy graduate and had access to the Bridge on several ships when we were chasing smugglers, raiders, and hijackers. I thought I would love crew duty on a cruiser. The Bridge is a magical place for me," I said.

"But?" Martz asked, her eyes evaluating me with interest.

"But I wouldn't want the responsibility that comes with the position."

"Captain?" she asked.

I nodded. "Your decisions directly impact hundreds of lives and thousands indirectly."

"That's very perceptive. You may only be thirty, but you sound like someone in their sixties."

I laughed. "Maybe in a way that's true. Because of the Coaca Virus and Red's life expectancy, I'm probably the equivalent of sixty." When I saw Martz's expression, I quickly added, "Don't feel sorry for me, Captain. My life is wonderful: I have a loving home, a fantastic mother, a job I enjoy, and I get to help make the UAS a safer place to live."

"I'm glad you're in the NIA. You're very good at chasing bad guys." Martz nodded her approval. "Do you know where you would like to go next, Admiral?"

"I guess Eastar. All of the queries I've initiated will be sent to Commander Damon to update the Magic Act database. Until I know what system or systems they are using to make name changes, I'm stymied."

* * *

"Ma'am, I've got some bad news," Stamm said as he exited the shuttle and caught up with Banner and me waiting for my security shuttles to arrive.

"I guess I can't just skip the bad news until tomorrow?" I asked, suspecting that I knew what the bad news was. My thoughts were on getting home and a quiet evening with Alexa.

"Not unless you want a really horrible day tomorrow." Stamm shrugged.

"All right; give me the bad news."

"Admiral Lulltrel wants you to stop in for a debriefing on your way home."

"That may be good news," I said to Stamm's astonishment. "If I meet with her today, I won't have to tomorrow and I can stay home."

"Good luck with that idea." Stamm grinned.

It was only a ten-minute shuttle ride to the NIA headquarters building, so I arrived at Lulltrel's conference room less than twenty-five minutes later just as Byrnes, Leyva, and Hadley were marching down the hallway.

Hadley laughed. "You should have a Taranis crew patch with as much time as you're spending on that cruiser."

"Actually, they should rename the cruiser the UAS Anna Paulus," Byrnes said with a wave.

"How about the UAS Red Krait," Leyva said.

"Or the UAS Bloodhound or the UAS Pit Bull," Hadley quipped.

We were interrupted by Spalding before we had reached our normal seats: Byrnes and Leyva on the left side of the table and Hadley on the right. We stopped and braced to attention where we stood.

"As you were," Lulltrel said as she took her seat at the head of the table. "Anna, I can now appreciate your concerns about a staff member who resides days away and never shows up for your staff meetings." She wasn't smiling. "Well, I'm listening."

"It's as complicated as I had anticipated. The profile was too specific for it to be simple sex trafficking. I believe the organization has been five or six years in the making." I went on to give a general overview of how it appeared to work—kidnapping, transportation, options, new identification, contract. "There are a lot of holes and assumptions, but I think that is the basic operation."

"You think the women are afraid to say anything because they voluntarily signed the contract?" Hadley asked, sounding skeptical.

"No, I think the contract is more for the criminal's benefit to obscure the more serious crimes, but the women are smart enough to know their kidnappers would be free while the case was investigated and they would be made to look like criminals and their names smeared. I'll bet they've been told the consequences of trying to escape or causing trouble, and that threat is worse than their slavery." I was sure of it, and Becker—alias Cobb—had implied as much.

"So how are you going to nail them, Admiral Paulus?"

* * *

"You look depressed, Daughter," Alexa said after a loving welcome home, a change into comfortable lounging clothes, and a very satisfying meal. I stretched out my leg to touch her foot and sighed. "Even Red looks down." Alexa pointed to him. Currently his head was hanging limply over my shoulder.

"This is the first time I've had a case where it may be impossible to catch the criminals without crucifying the victims," I said. "Think of it this way. Normally the criminal is standing behind his captive. If you are a good shot, you may have an opportunity to kill or wound him and free the captive. In this case, the criminal is standing in front of the captive. You can easily kill the criminal, but since you don't know exactly where the captive is standing, your bullet will penetrate the criminal and could kill or cripple the captive depending on where she is standing."

"Red and you have an interesting problem, Daughter."

* * *

"I got the results from Sudan today, which is the last of the NIA stations," Damon said, looking excited.

"And what does the data tell you?" I asked, interested in her assessment.

"Sixty-one of the ninety kidnapped women have had legal name changes: nine at Oxax, fourteen at Fire Rock, twenty at Oasis, and eighteen at Truth Star. None of the women who went missing this year—and we are short eight from the subsequent years."

"And that tells you what?" I asked.

Damon fidgeted for several minutes before answering. "There is a delay between snatching the women and getting a name change. Probably due to transportation and indoctrination."

"And?"

Damon smiled. "We could recover the women there." Her voice rose in excitement. "And get a lead on the rest of the organization."

"Have you checked the dates of the name changes?"

"No." She pursed her lips in thought. "If we can see whether it's one person delivering each woman or several at one time, that will determine how many women we can free."

"I'm interested, Damon. What would you do if it were your decision?" I asked, not sure how I would answer the question if…when Lulltrel asked me.

"Stake out the four systems and free as many as we can. Then determine where the escort came from and investigate that system," Damon said, staring far off in thought. When she finished, her head snapped back to look at me. I noticed Banner and Stamm also watching me.

"That might work, but worst case, we may only save one woman. And if the gang realizes we are onto their name change gambit and know the sites they use, they may change tactics and locations. They may even stop using contracts and resort to drugs," I said, playing devil's advocate while also voicing my concerns. "It's not a criticism, Damon. That approach may work, but it's not without risk. Although satisfying—and finding and freeing women is important—the goal is to destroy their operation. To do that, we must identify everyone involved and make sure they are brought to justice. Catching one or two, even if they are the leaders, won't preclude others from continuing operations. Cutting off the head of the snake sounds good, but I'm afraid most criminal organizations can easily grow a new head, sometimes one smarter than the old one."

I had gotten everything I asked for and even what I had hoped for. The gang was using only a small number of systems; but what was I going to do with the information? My head felt like all ninety women and their friends and relatives were beating on the inside of it, shouting for action and screaming their unique solutions—not to mention Lulltrel, Webb, and Guzman.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Star System: Eastar – One in the Hand or Two in the Bush

"Mother, how would you like to spend a day with your daughter?" I asked, knowing it wasn't fair giving her no warning so she could make arrangements at work. Actually, I hadn't told anyone I wasn't coming in to work today.

Alexa gave me a long, knowing look. "All right. If you are going to play hooky and want company, I'm up for it. Shopping, show, and dinner out?" she asked. I nodded and gave her a tight hug. That's real love, I mused. She's always available for me, unconditionally. She never requires a reason or requires me to wait.

"I love you, Mother," I said, feeling my pounding headache dissolve.

"Well, love of my life, let's get breakfast and decide how we are going to spend our well-deserved mother-daughter day."

The conversation at breakfast was restricted to what we may want to do or see or buy. I didn't really care, nor did Alexa. I just wanted to be with my mother, friend, and confidant. We had just finished when there was a knock at the door.

"Mother-daughter and security day." I laughed and went to answer the door. "Hi, Paul." I laughed when he realized I wasn't dressed for work. In fact, I was still in pajamas and a robe. "Mother and I are playing hooky. Want to come along?"

He smiled. "Are we going anyplace interesting?"

"With me along, you can never tell."

* * *

"Did that help, Daughter?" Alexa asked as we entered the house after a glorious day of truancy.

"Yes, Mother. Being with you was wonderful and it dissolved all my worries and doubts. The decision was obvious once I was at peace and my mind clear." I gave her a hug. "Thank you, Mother, for everything."

* * *

"Banner, send the following message under my signature to the NIA station chiefs on Oxax, Fire Rock, Oasis and Truth Star. Copy Vice Admiral Lulltrel," I said the next morning when Stamm and Banner entered for my morning briefing.

Commanders O'Brien, Taber, Sauer, and Sydel, you will immediately begin monitoring all court-approved name changes on your station for women with the names in the Magic Act database. If any are found, the woman or women and the man or men accompanying them will be followed and their destination and the ship's names they arrived on sent to Commander Damon for inclusion into the database. Neither the women nor anyone accompanying them are to be detained—that is an order under my P1A authority.

"Ma'am, excuse me for saying, but that is going to be very controversial, isn't it?" Banner asked frowning deep in thought.

"Ma'am, maybe you should discuss it with Admiral Lulltrel before you send it. Banner's right in that it will be controversial," Stamm said, a look of concern on his face and in his voice. "Sorry, ma'am. I'm sure that's why you stayed home yesterday and you've thought it out."

"Thank you both for your concern. It was not a decision I made lightly." I laughed. "I think it may be one of those infrequent rare decisions admirals are paid the big credits to make."

* * *

David and Carl were right. The message had barely been sent before the door burst open and Lulltrel marched in, slamming the door behind her. "Since I have to tell Admiral Webb your decision and I expect he will react like a ruptured fusion bottle, I'd like to understand your reasoning, and more importantly, why you didn't talk to me first." Lulltrel's face was hard to read. She appeared more upset than angry—maybe a mixture of both.

"Ma'am, the decision won't be popular, and since I felt it was my decision as the project leader of the Magic Act, I should take the heat. This way it will give you and Admiral Webb the opportunity to revoke my order and reprimand me accordingly."

"Anna, I know you well enough to know you don't make decisions on a whim and you don't consider people pawns to be sacrificed like too many officers. I would just like to understand your logic," Lulltrel said.

"Ma'am, I would like to request that you wait until we can have a meeting with Admiral Webb. That way it's clear you didn't know what I intended. Oh, can you include Dr. Renata in the meeting?" I asked with my fingers crossed and a silent prayer to whoever may be listening.

"All right, Anna. We'll do it your way. Don't plan on going anywhere for the next ten minutes. I imagine Webb will cancel any meeting he had scheduled when he gets your message." She gave a snort. "I know I can't wait to hear your reasoning."

"Ma'am, I now understand what you meant when you said any competent lieutenant commander could do ninety-five percent of our job. We were being paid for the other five percent. I take back my statement that we were being overpaid."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Star System: Undisclosed – Job Training

Susan was led to a large, well-furnished bedroom with two queen-sized beds, two night tables and lamps, two dressers, a walk-in closet, and a large bathroom with a toilet and bidet, glassed-in shower, a tub, and a wash counter with two sinks with matching medicine cabinets. The bathroom was well stocked with soaps, towels, makeup, perfumes, and other female essentials. Susan had no sooner competed her survey of the room when another woman entered. She was a slender blond, about Susan's average height, and had a shapely figure. She was a match for Susan except for the color of her hair and her heart-shaped face, which was in contrast to Susan's more angular shape. They stood appraising each other for several minutes.

"Hi, I'm Susan…from Eastar," Susan eventually said, wondering if the other woman was also from Eastar.

"Hi, I'm Debbie from Stone Ring," the other woman said cautiously. "Were you kidnapped?"

"Yes. Almost a week ago, I think. Maybe longer, depending on what system we're being held on. They had me locked in a room with no windows for what I think was several days."

Their stories were similar: they were attending college on their respective planets, remembered only waking up in a room with no windows, and were given three options by a scary woman. An evil-looking man was also in the room.

"I assume you also selected the let-nature-take-its-course option," Debbie said after an hour getting acquainted and learning facts about each other.

"Not much of a choice. Option two would be a living hell, and option three is always available. In a strange way, that woman was right. Sometimes fate deals us an unexpected problem: a crippling accident, a deadly virus, an incurable disease, the death of a child or loved one. In those cases, we have the three choices the woman in black gave us—survive, drugs, or suicide. I'm a survivor," Susan said, and the other woman nodded agreement.

"As you said, Susan, suicide is always an option."

* * *

Later that day, they were introduced to the rooms available to them: a dining room that served meals three times a day, a living room with windows that looked out onto a lake, an entertainment room, and their bedroom. For now, they were restricted to those rooms and outdoors up to fifty meters from the house. They each had an ankle bracelet to ensure compliance and a warning that they were on probation and that failure to obey the rules would invoke option two.

* * *

On the morning of the fifth day in their new quarters, the little evil man entered their bedroom, his face sporting a smile while his eye gleamed like a shark spying a school of his favorite fish.

"Your training begins today. You may call me Dick." He snorted. "I'll be your instructor. The better you learn, the better your career, and the more you will have to retire on when your contract ends. Or the faster you can buy out your contract. A reasonable escort can earn well over a million credits in her career. An excellent one could easily double that amount. How good you become is up to you, but you don't pass until I believe you enjoy having sex with me." He laughed at the stunned look on the women's faces. "Important men with money will be paying for your services, and we don't like giving refunds. It's doesn't matter whether you enjoy the sex or not. What matters is that the client believes you do. Think of it this way: the faster you can convince me, the fewer sessions with me, and the sooner your life will improve. You will be treated well and paid when you leave here and sign your contract." He scanned both women. "Susan, come with me." He left the room and a minute later Susan followed, not knowing what to expect but knowing it wouldn't be a simple wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Star System: Eastar – The Fourth Option

When I entered Webb's office I stopped, saluted, and then assumed a parade rest position when he didn't say anything or wave for me to sit. He just glared at me. I had to stifle a grin as I sensed—knew—Red was glaring back at Webb, but not only would that have been inappropriate, it would have brought thunder and lightning crashing down on me . I saw out of my peripheral vision that Lulltrel and Dr. Renata where already seated near the wall at a small table with four padded armchairs.

"Sit, Anna. I can understand sacrificing one woman if it leads to discovering the gang's headquarters, or helps in identifying the leaders, or… But refusing to save any of the missing women when we can is unconscionable. Those women are being used as sex slaves and we have an obligation to save them as fast as possible. What will I tell General Guzman when he learns of your decision?"

"Sir, that is why I made the decision unilaterally without consulting you or Admiral Lulltrel. You have the option of overruling me, giving me a medical retirement, or letting me take responsibility for the decision. In the latter option, you can tell General Guzman the same thing you can tell the parents and relatives of the other eighty-nine missing women—that the Magic Act project manager made the decision and you can't change it without removing her for cause. You can just replace me as the project manager or use the medical option. I'm sure Dr. Renata would be willing to certify me mentally unstable. I won't contest it," I said, continuing to remain at parade rest.

"Are you giving me ultimatums?" Webb growled.

"No, sir. I just didn't see any other options. I'll abide whatever you decide."

"You could reverse your decision! That's an option!" This time he did shout. Fortunately, Red didn't rise up or hiss, just continued to stare back.

"No, sir. I couldn't. I would rather be removed," I said, feeling that would make it impossible to catch the kidnappers. As Webb drew in a breath to shout again, Renata stood, interrupting him.

"Anna, I won't certify you mentally incompetent or unfit, because you're not. Admiral Webb, I'm sure could find a hundred qualified psychologists who would cite the various traumas you've encountered over the years. But they would be wrong." She stepped between Webb and me. "Anna, what made you decide what you did? Tell me. I'm interested."

"I know from personal experience—"

"I knew it," Webb shouted. Renata turned and held up a hand to silence him. It was like she had thrown cold water on him. He shook his head and then walked over to the table and sat. Renata turned back to me and nodded for me to continue.

"I know from personal experience what those women are going through and can feel their pain. Talking with Sophia Becker, I know that the women were threatened with worse consequences if they incriminated their captors—"

"What could be worse than being used—" Webb began but Renata silenced him with a finger to her lips.

"It's my turn, Admiral. Please continue, Anna."

"Consequently, they won't cooperate. If they did, they would live in fear that their captors will make good on their promises, and that would include those who didn't leave of their own accord." I decided not to mention the humiliation they would endure when the newsies publicized each woman's situation and thrust them into the bright light of the public. "I asked myself, in their position, what would I want the authorities to do? I came to the conclusion I'd want them to let me remain a captive until they could destroy the organization and the threat of retaliation. The damage has already been done; a few more weeks or even months wouldn't matter." When I finished, Renata put her arms around me, ignoring Red, who ignored her, and no one spoke or moved for what seemed minutes. Then Webb cleared his throat and waved for me to sit.

"You left out the fourth option," Webb said with a wry smile. "I can endorse your decision…and do."

CHAPTER THIRTY- THREE

Star System: Undisclosed – Concerns

"Room secure," Jules said as the individuals began entering the operations room.

"How did the police interview with Dora Cobb in Sudan go?" Silas asked as the available members of the core group assembled and the door was closed and locked.

"I talked to Dora and the lawyers. Dora refused to say anything on advice of council except she was innocent and was in the building only to visit a friend. She was released, as the police had nothing except that she was in the building. She happened to be fully dressed when the police raided the house. I talked to Dora. She said the police had placed her in a holding cell with a naval officer. Dora claims she told her nothing except what she had been briefed to say—she worked for an escort service, had a contract she signed voluntarily, and that she didn't need or want the woman's help," Stefan said. "I believed her. She has never caused us any trouble."

"A woman naval officer? I don't suppose she had admiral insignia and was accompanied by a red-headed krait?" Tashia hissed quietly from the other side of the room. She didn't move, but the room froze as if she had stood and shouted.

"Dora said she was in civilian clothing but she had a snake wrapped around her neck," Stefan said.

"Jamar, have you out lived your usefulness?" Tashia smiled like one would expect from a hangman placing a noose around the condemned man's head or a serial killer after he had finished torturing his latest victim.

"The bitch has nine lives," he muttered angrily but never made eye contact.

"Well then, you have only six to go, so you had better hurry. We," she waved to include everyone in the room, "can't wait for her to die of old age."

"You bitch," Jamar said under his breath.

"I appreciate compliments as much as the next woman, but I'd prefer action to words, results to excuses. And bitch is such a lame description. I'd prefer Satan's Harlot, or Daughter of Darkness…no, make that Queen of Darkness or how about Death's Daughter." She laughed. "Go do your job—catch the mouse and kill her or bring her home for us to play with…or we'll have to get another cat. One with teeth and claws. Go. You're wearing out my good mood." Tashia closed her eyes as Jamar exited the room, anger burning in his eyes.

"What if Jamar can't kill her?" Lucio asked.

"We could put a bounty on her head," Vito said. "A hundred thousand credits should do it."

"That red-headed pet of hers is already worth over a quarter million and she still has it," Tashia said. "Maybe we need a female cat. A scalpel rather than the same old sledge hammer you men love so much." An evil smile touched her thin lips and a satisfied sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTY- FOUR

Star System: Eastar – Repercussions

"An interesting day, Daughter?" Alexa asked as we sat for dinner. She knew what I planned to do—or rather, not do—with the information we would collect from the system that the kidnapped women would pass through to get a name change.

"Next to you, Mother, I thank the space gods for Renata. Admiral Webb began with a rant about all the problems my decision would cause, including what General Guzman would think. I gave him three options—"

"You didn't… Well, of course you did. I was just having trouble imagining you giving the Secretary of the Navy options. And what were your options?"

"Give me a medical retirement, remove me as Director of NIA Stations, or say it was my decision to make. I had intentionally failed to consult Lulltrel and Webb, so they would have those options available," I said. "But before they could reply, Renata had the sense to ask why I made the decision I did. After I explained that I thought it would be what the women would want me to do, Webb gave me a fourth option."

"To revoke your order?"

"No. That he would endorse my decision."

* * *

"The Master Chief is right. You're an interesting person to work for, and I'm certain I made a wise decision applying to be your aide-de-camp," Banner said after giving me my morning coffee. "The Master Chief and I thought your decision was controversial and should have been discussed with Admirals Lulltrel and Webb to cover your…butt. But then the Master Chief pointed out that was not the way you operate, probably because you aren't focused on getting promoted, just doing your job. I shouldn't have been surprised, as it was the message you gave your stations' chiefs at each stop around the UAS. That answers a question I've had before I met you—what career path should I select? I like your philosophy, so I need to find a job I love rather than the one with the fastest track to rank."

"Now that we've gotten the excitement out of the way, how bored am I going to be today?" I asked.

"Very. I suspect that the half of your direct reports who don't know you personally are wondering when Admiral Lulltrel and Webb are going to rescind your orders or fire you," Stamm said, his voice full of amusement.

* * *

"Ma'am," Banner knocked and entered, as I had just said Come. "You have an urgent message from Commander Taber. One of the recent missing women has applied for a name change…" He hurriedly put his tablet on my desk with the decoded message.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director NIA Stations

The woman named Geneva Poole from Black Water has just applied for a name change. Police Commissioner Higgins is preparing to pick up the woman and arrest the man accompanying her. Please advise.

From: Commander Taber

Fire Rock NIA Station Chief

"I can understand that Commissioner Higgins doesn't like me," I said thoughtfully. "But I didn't think he was on drugs. Oh, well. Master Chief, who is the army officer in charge of the garrison on Fire Rock?" I sat back, sipping the hot cup of coffee my every-ready aide had placed in front of me. I could almost imagine him like a puppy, sitting with his mouth open, tongue hanging out, panting, and wide-open eyes in anticipation of his master's reaction to the bone he dropped at her feet. I shook my head in an attempt not to laugh and to rid my mind of the image. I'd grown quite fond of Banner.

"Brigadier General Petrakov, ma'am."

"Thank you, Carl."

"Lieutenant Banner, send the following message, urgent, to Brigadier General Petrakov, copies to Vice Admiral Lulltrel, Commander Taber, and Police Commissioner Higgins."

General Petrakov, I've been informed that Fire Rock's Police Commissioner Higgins is preparing to ignore a direct P1A order not to contact or interfere in any way with any woman who is listed in the UAS Magic Act database or her companion(s). I've been further notified he is preparing to contact and/or to otherwise interfere with a woman listed in that database named Geneva Poole from Black Water and her companion(s).

If he attempts to contact her in any way, direct or indirect, or interfere with her or her companion(s), you are to arrest him under my P1A authority and arrange transportation to Stonewall, where he is to be incarcerated for the rest of his life. You are authorized to use lethal force if necessary. Your contact is Commander Taber, Fire Rock NIA Station Chief.

"Banner, use my UAS Special Agent for the Magic Act Project title."

"And the commissioner went poof," Stamm choked out with a laugh.

"Yes, ma'am." Banner ran out the door smiling.

* * *

I had just returned from lunch when Teresa Hadley entered my office looking cheerful. She was interested in the Magic Act project and wanted the latest from me. Fortunately, she was authorized, as she was on the need-to-know list. She was particularly interested in the Higgins fiasco. Of course, I wouldn't know anything for a day or more, but it was a chance to chat and socialize and fill an otherwise boring day. Even by faster-than-light messaging, it took time to get an update. She had just grabbed a cup of coffee when Stamm burst through the door.

"Ma'am, I was just notified there was a shooting incident in the lobby. Nothing to worry about, but I thought you should know. Apparently, several men—the exact number is unclear—tried to enter the building. They shot up the lobby but security managed to stop them from entering. It was a miracle that no one was seriously hurt—"

I bolted out of my chair chastising myself—careful what you wish for, you may get it—as I raced by Carl.

"Sergeant Nabert, you and Master Chief Stamm are going to clear this floor. Send everyone up the stairs to the twentieth floor. You too, Teresa. There is a kill squad in this building, and the NIA personnel will be targets of opportunity," I said, trying to improvise a solution, as most navy personnel not only didn't carry a weapon, but few—if any—brought them to work. The twentieth floor would at least have several marine guards because of Webb and the other high-ranking flag officers. Banner came running up just then. "Banner, get to the sixteenth floor as fast as you can and have Damon evacuate all NIA up to the twentieth floor. That's an order. Clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," he shouted as he ran for the stairs.

"What about you, Admiral?" my marine security sergeant asked. Stamm was already shouting orders as he worked his way down the hallway. "Go; I'll call Pannell and let him know what I'm doing. Go! No, wait. Do you have any flashbangs?" I asked. He opened a pouch on his belt and handed me two. I nodded my thanks and waved him off. Back in my office, I unlocked my desk drawer and took out my Mfw, checked that the safety was off, and strapped it to my thigh. I took a deep breath and stepped into the reception area, and then found a position where I could see into the hallway. If I were right, they would be coming up both stairways. About five minutes later, the doors at both ends of the hallway opened and three men entered from each stairwell. I switched my Mfw to shards and thumbed the spread to tight as I stood waiting, partially concealed by the entrance wall. I could see them entering the area, opening doors, and I heard them shouting, "All clear."

CHAPTER THIRTY- FIVE

Star System: Eastar – More Repercussions

Jamar looked around the room, pleased with the team his contact on Eastar had assembled. Five men were dressed in regulation navy uniforms, ranging from petty officers first through third. Jamar's uniform had chief petty officer's rank. Another six men were dressed in dark combat clothing with no rank or insignia and were wearing balaclavas.

"The mission is simple. Those of us in navy uniforms will enter the lobby to the military headquarters building and join one of the three security check lines. When we are close to the security checkpoint, I will send the go signal. At that point you will rush into the lobby shooting. The idea isn't to kill anyone but to create panic and to overwhelm the security checking stations. After we are in, you can let security drive you off. You will stay in the designated waiting area to extract us after we have killed our targets." His gaze shifted to those in navy uniforms. "Our prime target is Admiral Paulus. She is located on the eighteenth floor. Secondary targets are any of the Eastar NIA group on the sixteenth floor and senior personnel on the eighteenth floor. There should be enough confusion afterward for us to join those evacuating the building. I'll lead team Alpha and Rosser will lead team Beta. Alpha will take the north and Beta the south stairs. Any questions?" He looked around the warehouse, not expecting questions, as they had been reviewing a blueprint of the headquarters building and the specific layout of the sixteenth and eighteenth floors as well as who was in each office and work area. They planned to arrive toward the end of the lunch hour, as that was when the traffic in the lobby would be the heaviest. He looked at his watch and decided it was time to go and circled his hand for everyone to enter the four waiting SUVs.

* * *

Two of the SUVs discharged their passengers who were wearing naval uniforms. They were spread among three separate spots within a five-minute walk to the building, which would make them appear as pairs of sailors rather than a group. Each carried a small duffel bag as if prepared to depart on deployment or possibly just returning from one. Inside the building, Jamar and Rosser made small talk about two women they had met yesterday at an Eastar nightclub as they shuffled along in the middle of a line waiting to enter security station two. When they were within three persons of the checkpoint, Jamar pressed the button on his comm device. Several minutes later, as the person in front of Rosser was waved through the check station, shots rang out and people began panicking. Some dropped to the floor, others crouched behind whatever cover they could find, and most ignored the security stations, running past the security police who were preparing to engage the attackers. After Jamar was sure the two kill teams were inside, he gave the signal to proceed to their assigned areas. He noted Rosser and his two men entering the north stairs. Collecting his two men, he kept going until they reached the back of the building and entered the south stairs. They took the stairs at a brisk pace. He didn't want to attract undue attention, but they had sixteen floors, two hundred fifty-six steps to climb. When they finally reached the sixteenth-floor landing, each man lowered the bag he was carrying, opened it, and retrieved the assault weapons inside and multiple magazines. Then they took out the loose-fitting black pants, sweaters, and balaclavas, which they hurriedly put on over their navy uniforms.

"Beta, are you in place?" Jamar asked into channel eight of his comm device.

"Beta is a go," came the response. Jamar nodded, and the door was opened and the three men rushed in from the north and south doors. Jamar stayed in the center of the hall as one man entered the right and the other the left work areas and offices. Jamar had expected to find forty or more people on this floor—the Eastar NIA station group. But it became immediately obvious that the entire floor was empty.

"Beta, finish checking this floor. I'm going to the eighteenth floor. Join me when you are certain no one is here," Jamar said and waved for his team to follow as he headed for the stairs. Two minutes later, he signaled for one of his men to open the door to the eighteenth hallway and he burst through with his Mfw, ready to kill everyone there. The floor was silent. He cursed. "Where the fuck are they?" He waved his two men forward. With him watching the hallway, they began working the area, examining reception rooms, offices, and conference rooms. All were empty. About a quarter of the way into the area, the door to the south stairs flew open and Rosser came charging through, Mfw swinging left and right. When he saw Jamar, he shrugged.

"The sixteenth floor was empty," he said into his mic as he waved his two men into action. They had just come through the door when someone in a navy uniform fired a burst of pellets and one of Rosser's men went down. Jamar and Rosser both swung their Mfws toward the shooter and fired, but it was too late, as the individual had disappeared. Sensing a trap, they continued clearing the rooms as they worked toward the area where the shooting had come from. Several minutes later, both teams arrived at the area the shooter had been in, judging by the shell casings on the floor. One man from Jamar's team and one from Rosser's entered the area, one from the right and one left, firing as they went. Nothing. The two approached the office door as the other four entered the area. With all six ready, one man grabbed the door handle, waited as two prepared to rush in, then yanked the door open. One man went right and the other followed left.

CHAPTER THIRTY- SIX

Star System: Eastar – More repercussions

I stood listening as the group entering from the north stairwell began working their way down the hallway, every minute or so shouting, "Clear," with increasing confusion and frustration. Then suddenly, the door from the south stairwell opened and another team entered and began working their way through the area, shouting, "Clear," as they went. I peeked out to see one man standing in the middle of the hallway and two men working the offices and rooms, one on each side. It was the same on my left and right. I stepped out and shot a man just coming out of Hadley's area on my right. I saw him stumbling backward as I ducked back. Several shots came from my left, probably from the man standing in the middle. The pellets wracked the wall near where I had been. I doubted they would rush to my position, since they would have to worry about a potential trap, so they would continue clearing the area as they approached. I backed into my office, closed the door, and moved behind my bookcase. I had moved it away from the wall at a forty-five-degree angle to use as a shield, only two steps from my bathroom door. What seemed like an eternity later, I could hear talking in my reception area—I had left the comm open and their voices were clear.

"The shooter has to be in that office," one man said, then laughed. "This is my fucking lucky day. It's the bitch Paulus, according to the sign on the door. Rear Admiral Anna Paulus." His laugh sounded maniacal. A minute later, the door was yanked open and two men rushed in, one turning right and the other intending to cover left. I engaged him first, since I was in position on the left of the door. Two hits, one to the forehead and one just below his nose. His gun clattered to the floor and he collapsed, his forward momentum and the pellets to his head canceling each other out. The man looking right swiveled to the left with his Mfw on full automatic, tearing holes in the walls, chewing through my desk, and shattering the window behind the desk. I shot him in the head before the storm of metal reached me. As I turned my gaze back to the half-open door a flashbang came flying into the room. I stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door shut as the device exploded. Even with the door closed, the sound was deafening and my ears were ringing. I felt a moment of disorientation as the room lit from the blinding flash of light coming through the crack between the door and the floor. I pulled the pin on my flashbang and opened the door as three men rushed in, although the third stayed in the doorway. I released the lever, tossed the flashbang into the room, and slammed the door shut. This time the disorientation was worse, the cumulative effect I imagined. I opened the door and stumbled into my office, which looked like a bomb had gone off. There wasn't a piece of furniture that hadn't been partially destroyed or a wall that wasn't scarred by hundreds of pellet holes. Two men were on their knees. One was sweeping the floor feeling for his weapon while the other screamed obscenities between pukes. I shot both. Then I realized more obscenities were also coming from beyond the door. The man in the doorway must have jumped back into the reception area and avoided most, but not all of the flashbang. I heard steps running down the hallway, and later the door to the north stairs opened and closed. Then the elevator door opened and I heard the drumming of multiple footsteps thundering down the hallway. I moved back to the bathroom door, pointed my Mfw toward the door to the office, and waited.

Pannell and two marines exploded through the door, and I barely stopped from shooting them.

"Hi, Paul," I said, my voice sounding far-off in the distance. My ears were still ringing from the multiple flashbangs. "I'm all right, but I think I'd like to go home. I've got a splitting headache."

* * *

Thankfully, Paul didn't try and question me on the way home. He was in constant communication with his crew, who were piecing together what happened. He even intercepted a call from Lulltrel.

"Admiral, this is Colonel Pannell. I'm taking Admiral Paulus home. She wasn't injured, but I believe she might be in shock and suffering the effects of flashbangs." He listened for a while before speaking. "At first we thought the group of attackers were trying to enter the building. There were five of them. But they were only a clever diversion. When they began shooting, everyone in the lobby panicked and ran through the security checkpoints and into the building. The group had six men dressed in navy uniforms in the crowd who entered with them. Security didn't try to stop anyone, since they were occupied with the shooters. Those six used the stairs. We believe they intended to target NIA personnel, specifically Admiral Paulus." Paul listened again for several minutes. "No, ma'am. I don't know why she stayed in the area." He snorted. "But I suspect she decided to return home so she doesn't have to listen to you, me, and her mother screaming at her for being stupid."

* * *

At home I went directly to my bedroom, dropped my clothes on the floor on the way to the bed, and climbed in, pulling the covers over my head. "I had to stay," I mumbled in my defense. "If I hadn't, they would have raced up to the twentieth floor and with flashbangs, only the space gods know the result," I said, holding Red at eye level. Then I kissed his tiny head when his tongue flicked my nose in what I took for agreement.

When I woke, Dr. Renata and Alexa sat quietly in two armchairs, looking serious.

"Red made me do it," I said, sitting up in bed only to discover I was naked. I pulled my covers up to my neck, where Red lay, and his head peeked over the edge. Renata rose and came to my bedside, proceeding to give me a quick but thorough examination. "She has no physical damage, Alexa," she said when she finished.

"How about I take you two to dinner?" I asked. "I'm starved."

"Just feeling guilty," Renata said and then amended. "Someplace expensive, since I had to make a house call."

CHAPTER THIRTY- SEVEN

Star System: Eastar – More Bread Crumbs

When I entered the building, Senior Master Chief Gomez approached me, looking sheepish, and waved me to the front of the queue.

"Good morning, Admiral Paulus," he said, bowing his head.

"You and your men did the right thing, Senior Chief. The attackers had you between a black hole and an exploding star," I said, thinking he had gotten grief over letting some of the attackers into the building. He probably felt guilty because he was a professional and therefore blamed himself, although there was nothing different he could have done to stop them.

"But..."

"Just ignore the armchair analysts. They wouldn't know how to get the safety off if they could figure out where they stored their weapon," I said and smiled.

He smiled back. "Thank you, ma'am." He ushered me to the front of the line and waved the security man to pass me by without the standard check of my ID.

Everyone stepped aside as the number seven elevator door opened. When I stepped in, Vice Admiral Petersen stepped in behind me. He was a small man with a round face that appeared perpetually tired, probably because of his position as the director of naval personnel. I'd bet he was never bored. He had to be constantly harassed trying to juggle tens of thousands of assignments and hundreds of special requests.

"Good morning, Paulus," he said. "That was quick thinking yesterday."

"I thought it better to be laughed at for being paranoid than see people hurt, sir." I gave the short rather than the long answer.

"Well, for the folks on the eighteenth and twentieth floor, thank you," he said as the elevator opened on the eighteenth floor. I nodded, stepped out, and proceeded to my office. Stamm and Banner stood as I entered and followed me inside.

Stamm smiled as he closed the door. "Admiral Lulltrel doesn't know whether to give you a letter of reprimand or promote you."

"Let's hope it's a reprimand then, Carl. In fact, if you get a chance, you could provide some reasons I should be demoted."

Banner sighed. "You've got to be the only officer in the military who doesn't want to be promoted."

"That's not true, David. I don't mind being promoted, even out of the zone. But I'd like a little time-in-grade to develop the experience for the next promotion." I sighed. "There are nuances at each level of command one needed time to assimilate."

"Boss, that seems to be the part Admiral Lulltrel thinks any competent lieutenant commander could handle. I think they promoted you for that other part," Stamm said, looking serious and thoughtful. "She has called for a staff meeting at ten hundred hours, so you can find out then."

* * *

"How did you know?" were the first words out of Lulltrel's mouth after she sat and stared at me for several minutes.

"It just seemed like a clever way to sneak a few people into the building," I said, rather than it was obvious, which it clearly wasn't to anyone but me.

"All right, but why did you have to stay behind, since it must have been obvious to you that you were the intended target?" Lulltrel asked, eyes narrowed and her tone sounded frustrated.

"For just that reason, ma'am. If I hadn't, a lot of innocent people would have been caught in the crossfire. Staying behind, I could delay them, giving Colonel Pannell time to get me support," I said. Lulltrel turned to look at Pannell, who just threw up his hands.

"I should court martial her security for leaving her to join you and the others on the twentieth floor against my explicit orders never to leave her alone. But Anna's a force of nature. My marines think they work for her. There are times I think I work for her." He shook his head in frustration.

"I guess that means it would be pointless to order her not to do that again," Lulltrel said and then looked back to me, continuing before I could respond. "You think it's the Magic Act group?"

"Yes, ma'am. Although I couldn't swear to it in court, I believe the man who got away was the same man who attacked me in the hotel on Blackwater." At least this time none of my guards were killed, I mused.

"What happened with Commissioner Higgins?" Lulltrel asked.

"I don't know, ma'am. I don't blame him or anyone for thinking me heartless and only concerned with my career… I think he will back down. I haven't given him a lot of wiggle room," I said, knowing he wasn't stupid.

Lulltrel laughed. "Because you seem so young and inoffensive, I think people think they can intimidate you. That had been my fear bringing you to Eastar." She snorted. "Keep me up to date. Webb is on the hot seat because he's backing your decision not to rescue the individual women we find."

* * *

"Ma'am, messages have been coming in for the last forty-eight hours. Your decision is starting to pay off," Damon said as we began my weekly staff meeting.

"Commander Taber reports that Commissioner Higgins backed down when General Petrakov showed up at police headquarters with twenty marines in combat gear. Not everyone agrees with your decision, but I doubt anyone is going to test you again." She looked at her tablet. "Commander Taber reported that the man accompanying Geneva Poole is going by the name Albert Efrain and he's from Shadows Rest. The two arrived from Oasis on the merchant ship Merry Dee. They left two days later on the same ship to Stone Ring." She paused and checked her tablet again. "Commander Sinclair reports Miss Poole was taken to a Mr. Shifflett's estate, where she is apparently staying. Efrain is currently booked for Oasis on the Merry Dee." Damon smiled, but then her expression changed and she looked down. "Ma'am, I couldn't have made that decision."

"You're in Eastar because I believe you could under similar circumstances. You are focused on your responsibilities and not on promotions or what people think. If you had interviewed Lillian Barnes, you would have reached the same conclusion I did—those women will never be truly free until their abductors are destroyed."

"Ma'am, how does this help?" Banner asked. I knew he, too, thought we should have rescued Miss Poole when we had the chance.

"Damon, what do you think?" I asked.

She smiled after a momentary shocked look. "I'd say a working hypothesis might be that Miss Poole was kidnapped from Black Water and taken to Oasis for…indoctrination. Then sent to Fire Rock for a name change before being delivered to her first…client on Stone Ring." She looked to me with a small smile.

"I agree," I said.

"Oh, I almost forgot. The medical examiner on Safe Harbor has identified a Jane Doe as Marie Thomas from Oxax. That's three to date and they were all abducted four years ago." Damon paused.

"Conclusion?" I asked.

"I would initially have said the women were being drugged to be used as…willing prostitutes. But Sophia Becker appears to contradict that conclusion—well, sort of. The women could resort to drugs when it becomes too much for them…"

"Those are all reasonable assumptions based on the information we have, but there are far too many missing pieces, like how they are identified, how they're moved off planet, how the indoctrination works, what is the threat that keeps them from wanting to be rescued, etc. Unfortunately, I don't think any of the women are going to talk to us…" There had to be a way of collecting more information, but what? I was at a loss. We could keep an eye on Poole and Becker, but I suspected that would only tell us how the women were being used and who their clients were. The clients weren't likely to talk, since what they were engaging in was an illegal activity. And in some cases, it could affect their image as well as their standing within the community.

"Banner, send the following message to all stations." I knew I was shifting the NIA stations' workload, but I'd rather let a few thefts go unsolved than leave these women hanging any longer than I had to.

We have found four Magic Act women dead from drug overdoses. Those deaths appear to be the result of years of drug abuse rather than suicides. I'd like a dedicated effort to find Magic Act women currently addicted. Enlist the police commissioners' help: check registered and illegal brothels, homeless, hospitals, and rehabilitation clinics. I believe they may be our best source of information.

CHAPTER THIRTY- EIGHT

Star System: Undisclosed – Frustration

"The cat that ran from the mouse has returned home," Tashia said as Jamar entered the room. "And what good is a useless cat when you have a rat problem?"

"You bitch—" Jamar began but was cut off by Tashia.

"I thought we already had that discussion. Now you're boring in addition to useless," Tashia said, never moving from her lounging posture in her favorite black leather chair. With her black outfit, she seemed like a shadow on the chair.

Jamar reached into his boot and drew out a thirty-centimeter Ka-Bar knife with a black leather wrapped handle and black oxide coated blade and smiled. "This useless cat is going to skin you and hang it on his wall. And every day when I enter the room, I'll spit on it." He sneered and licked the blade. Tashia rose and silently left by the rear exit. Outside she picked up a dead branch and drew a ten-meter-diameter circle in the sandy soil. She pulled off her leather long-sleeved shirt, leaving her naked from the waist up. In her right hand she held a MV-1 Viper knife with a short eight-centimeter blade. Jamar sneered, licking the blade of his knife.

"I'm ready to be skinned, Jamar. My Kaliam sisters call this the Circle of Truth. You can leave your shirt on. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

Jamar immediately stripped off his shirt. As he did, Tashia removed the rest of her clothing. She looked like a goddess with an hourglass figure, her breasts perky like a younger woman, and a lean body that looked youthful. But on closer examination there were small, almost imperceptible thin, white scars everywhere—stomach, chest, breast, arms, legs…

"In the Circle of Truth, we dance naked so all can see we enter with nothing to hide," Tashia said, smiling. "But we are women and don't have our brains and bravery dangling exposed."

Jamar angrily tore off the rest of his clothing, except for his briefs. "There, bitch; satisfied?"

"Yes. Vito, Lucio, shoot either one of us if we step out of the circle," she said and walked to within a meter of the center of the circle, standing with her hands as her sides. The Viper knife remained loosely in her right hand.

Jamar approached her cautiously, the Ka-Bar in his right hand extended in front of him, ready to fight. "I've changed my mind. I'm not going to have you skinned. I'm going to have you stuffed so I can start each day with a laugh, stroke your breast, play with your pussy, and curse you, hoping you can hear me in hell." He laughed, his eyes shining in anticipation.

"That's your problem, Jamar. You're a wannabe—all talk, no substance," Tashia said. Enraged, Jamar lunged with his knife pointing at her face, evil pleasure blazing in his eyes as he visualized the blade ripping into the smile and slicing open her face. His blade found open air and a pain streaked down his knife arm, then his ribs as he twisted away. She stood watching him with no expression. He approached slowly, his arm with the knife swinging back and forth across his body. Suddenly, he lunged with his knife cutting across her stomach, but she bent at the waist and the knife missed by less than a centimeter. He felt pain across his forehead and blood dripped into his eyes. He felt a sharp pain down his shoulder, across his stomach, and down one leg. His staggered backward, wiping the blood from his eyes and forehead. Tashia had disappeared. His legs went from under him as her leg swept across his, and pain ripped through his flaying arm and thigh as he hung suspended before crashing to the ground. She rolled over him, opening a cut from nipple to nipple and one through his bicep as she tucked and rolled to her feet. Dead eyes stared back at him.

"The Circle is sometimes called 'Death from a Hundred Cuts.' The law of the Circle says your opponent must stop at a hundred cuts. Don't worry; I'm keeping track. You have forty-two, so I'm entitled to another fifty-eight." He stood, dripping blood from his face, arms, body, and legs. If one looked closely, one could see that the cuts were shallow. No cut was gushing blood, just a slow drip.

Jamar realized he hadn't cut her even once. Blinded with rage and fear, he threw himself at her with his arms wide so she couldn't evade him. He needed to get in close where she could cut him, but it was the only way he could drive his longer knife deep into her and rip through her intestines, liver, spleen, and heart—the killing blow he envisioned with a smile. She folded to the ground and he flew over her. As he flew past, her hand blurred, crisscrossing her knife across his chest, stomach, and legs. He staggered to his feet naked. His briefs were blood-soaked and sliced to shreds.

"Fifty-six," she announced, sounding bored.

"You win, Tashia," Jamar said. His voice held the flat sound of a defeated man.

"Don't you want to kill me, Jamar? What a wonderful dream. Another wannabe dream," Tashia said, taunting in her same bored voice. He charged, his knife moving in an intricate pattern as he closed the distance to her. She appeared to slide to his left and was suddenly behind him as he stumbled past.

"Sixty-six," she said as he spun with his knife at her eye level. She slipped under his arm and her knife hand blurred as she took two steps away. "Seventy-eight."

Jamar looked like he had been painted red. Not a spot showed normal pale skin. Like an enraged bull, he charged his matador again and again. And Tashia like a picador, inflicting weakening slices while avoiding the bull's horns.

"Ninety-eight. Two more and I must stop, Jamar, in which case you might live," Tashia said in that same detached voice. He wiped his arm across his face and stared at Tashia, lowering his knife in defeat. Then he sprung at her with his knife clutched in both hands and aimed at her heart. Tashia turned sideways and Jamar's knife passed only a centimeter by her chest as he stumbled past and dropped to his knees, blood spurting from both sides of his neck.

"One hundred." She folded the Viper knife closed and left the circle.

CHAPTER THIRTY- NINE

Star System: Eastar – Complications

"They found one…" Damon shouted as she came running into my office past Stamm as he opened the door to announce her. She slid to a stop, flushed from running and from embarrassment.

"Sorry, ma'am," she said as she straightened to attention and saluted. I held an amused smile that wanted to split my lips. It's what I liked about her: she loved her work and it showed.

"They found one what?" I asked, as if I couldn't guess.

"A Magic Act addict. Commander Newman just reported…" she stopped when Banner placed his tablet on my desk with the message.

To: Commander Damon

Eastar NIA Station Chief

Copy: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

Commissioner Fisher discovered a woman named Debbie Thomas who has been identified as one of the Magic Act women, birth name Tamatha Naqin, who went missing on Safe Harbor five years ago. She is a patient in Zaspa's Mercy Wellness Clinic. They have her under surveillance awaiting your arrival. I suggested you would be the best person to interview her and Commissioner Fisher agreed. We await your decision.

From: Commander Newman

Zaspa NIA Station Chief

Banner sent a return message to Commissioner Fisher and Commander Newman.

Excellent work, and thank you for waiting for me to interview her. If she is reluctant to talk, I may have information that would help change her mind, and a woman interviewer would be important in this case. I'll be on Zaspa within four days.

"Banner, notify Captain Martz I'd like to go to Zaspa. I'll be on board within twelve hours. Stress she has the full twenty-four hours to get ready. And you two idiots can come along, but Colonel Pannell had better pronounce you experts with whatever weapon you choose to carry or you can't leave the cruiser. And tell my security in the reception area to alert Colonel Pannell of my plans." I looked to Carl. "Master Chief, notify Admiral Lulltrel's aide of my plans. He'll know if she will want an update before I leave."

"Ma'am," Banner and Damon said simultaneously, sporting equal scowls. Banner said nothing more as he handed his tablet to me.

To: Commander Damon

Eastar NIA Station Chief

Copy: Rear Admiral Paulus

Director, NIA Stations

Susan Guzman is on Fire Rock and applying for a name change to Krystal Berry. Commissioner Higgins has advised General Petrakov. Please advise.

From: Commander Taber

Fire Rock NIA Station Chief.

Everyone turned to stare at me. I sighed, knowing the unnecessary problems this would create.

"Banner, send the following message to General Petrakov with copies to Admiral Lulltrel and Commander Taber. Make my title Anna Paulus, UAS Special Agent for the Magic Act Project."

General Petrakov, you are ordered to place Commissioner Higgins under arrest for sharing P1A information with unauthorized individuals who had no need-to-know access. He is to be relieved of his position as police commissioner and held pending formal charges by me.

I had barely approved the typed message on Banner's tablet and he had pressed Send when Stamm snorted.

"Ma'am, Admiral Lulltrel wants to see you for an update when you are available."

"I hope she has my coffee ready," I quipped as I rose and grabbed my jacket from Banner. When I entered Lulltrel's reception area, Commander Shelden had the door open and an amused smile on his lips.

"You do know how to get on the admiral's schedule ahead of everyone else."

"Practice," I said as I passed him, entered her office, and saluted while remaining at attention.

"Sit, Paulus," she said and came around her desk to join me. As she did, Shelden put two cups on a round coffee table that separated the chairs. "I think I need an update…" She paused when Shelden handed his tablet to her. "Shelden, get Pannell up here immediately." She waved for him to go. "I assume this means General Guzman has been informed. What a cluster fuck this is." She put her hand up to her face and rubbed her forehead. "What do you plan to do, Anna?"

"My job, ma'am. I'm off to Zaspa. My people and I have a vicious kidnapping ring to destroy. I'm hoping Miss Debbie Thomas, formally Tamatha Naquin from Safe Harbor, can fill in some of our missing pieces and maybe move us a few steps closer to the kidnapping ring's leaders."

"What about Guzman?" she asked.

"I won't play favorites and I don't believe Susan would want me to if I would. If the UAS committee thinks I'm wrong, they should remove me from the project. Until then, I will tolerate no interference. I have ninety women depending on the NIA and the local police to destroy this kidnapping sex ring and get them free," I said, hoping Guzman wouldn't push me like Higgins did. I didn't want to hurt anyone or their career.

* * *

I had just sat down and was getting ready to call Mother to inform her that I was off to Fire Rock when the door burst open and Stamm was slammed to the floor. General Guzman stood above him with a marine Mfw pointing at him. Then he raised it to point in my direction. "You're going to send a message to whoever you need directing them to save my daughter or I'm going to kill you slowly. A shot to the knee, the elbow, the stomach…"

I stood and began clapping. "That's brilliant, General Guzman. Scenario one, Colonel Pannell and a horde of marines will burst into the room and kill you. Scenario two, Colonel Pannell and a horde of marines will burst into the room and arrest you and you will spend the rest of your life in Stonewall. In either scenario, Susan remains in the kidnapper's hands." I looked to Stamm, who looked like he was preparing to attack Guzman. "Master Chief!"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied hesitantly.

"Close the door on your way out. Tell Colonel Pannell this is a private discussion and I'm not to be disturbed. Then take yourself to the dispensary and get checked out. That's an order, Carl."

"Yes, ma'am." He rose to his feet a little unsteady, walked to the door, and left, closing it after him.

"Now, Guzman, put that Mfw down and sit before you destroy your life and your family's. You're in pain and I don't blame you for feeling helpless and wanting to strike out at something, anything. And you see me as the problem–"

"You are. You could free my daughter—"

"Yes, you see me as a heartless bitch who is using your daughter to catch the kidnappers and gain glory and fame and another promotion—"

"That's right!"

"You don't have a clue, yet you have all the answers. You think you know the pain your daughter is going through. In reality you can't begin to understand—"

"And you can?"

"Yes, the heartless bitch can feel Susan's and the other women's pain. When we were chasing the JPU pirates, I was captured by the marines-for-hire and transported to the JPU cruiser, the Shark. They wanted to know what the NIA knew about their operations. When I refused and torture didn't work, the captain let one man rape me every hour. I was there over five days. Every time I was on the verge of dying, they put me in Rejuv. Yes, I understand the pain she and the others are going through and the scars she will carry for the rest of her life. But I also know if she were in this room right now and I offered to free her that she would refuse—"

"Noooo!" Guzman cried.

"Sir, they don't have her chained to a bed. She is free and will have many chances to escape. She won't. She is choosing to stay because of fear. They told her what will happen if she tries or if she talks."

"She would be safe with me…" he said just above a whisper.

"You think so? It's obvious from what we've learned to date that they have people on every system. Consider what you would do if you knew I would kidnap your young daughter and two sons and sell them into slavery if you refused to do what I asked? Would you risk that I couldn't or wouldn't? And knowing the kidnappers are a very nasty bunch, the women have been threatened with worse threats and have every reason to believe the kidnappers are capable of carrying them out and would. They may even have an example to show them. I don't know the specific threat each woman is under, but it's worse than their compliance." I stopped to let him think about her situation before continuing. "My heart bleeds for these women because I truly understand what they are going through and have a thousand people throughout the UAS working to find and destroy this ring of criminals. But until we do, your daughter and the other eighty-plus women will never be truly free to rebuild their lives."

"Will Susan be able to…?"

"If Susan knows you are there when she needs you, she can. She won't want your sympathy or pity or locking her in a cocoon of security, just your support when she asks. I frequently sleep in my mother's bed because of the nightmares. That's what I need so she lets me without stupid comments about how she understands, or I'll get better, or seeing some shrink or anything. I need her, so she's there. During the day I'm functional."

"Can I help…"

"Yes, let your senior people know I'm a friend and may need their help," I said, thinking that might make him feel like he was doing something and who knew, I might actually need additional marines.

"I will. Can I check in with you from time to time?"

"I promise to keep you up to date, General Guzman. But you must remember this is a P1A project and can't be discussed with anyone who doesn't have a need to know."

"Thank you, Admiral Paulus, and I apologize for my behavior."

"Anna, please." I stood and walked to the door with him following. I opened it and saw Pannell and eight marines standing with Mfws drawn. "Thank you, General Guzman; I'll keep in touch."

He nodded and made his way through them to the elevators.

"He drew a weapon on you," Pannell said and I felt his urge to arrest Guzman after he shot him.

"Better a friend than an enemy, Paul. I think you can now count on the entire army and marine core being on call if you need them." I grinned. He let out a sigh but couldn't stop a wry grin.

CHAPTER FORTY

Star System: Fire Rock – Default Options

"You all right, Carl?" I asked when we met in my private office on the Taranis. It was twenty hours later. I had met with Alexa for a lunch and brought her up to date, gone home and packed for a possible extended trip, reported to the ship and updated Captain Martz, and then freshened up and even managed a few hours' rest.

"Yes; just a few bruises. The general took me by surprise…he's also in good shape and must work out regularly." He gave a lopsided grin. "I thought he'd shoot you, ma'am."

"Banner, there is a good lesson there for you as you get more rank and responsibility," I said, looking over at him. He had been very quiet. "Rank does not make you smarter, shouting doesn't make you right, and you aren't listening if your emotions are in control."

Stamm laughed. "Ma'am that kind of goes against military tradition."

"The master chief is right. This might be the best assignment I'm ever going to have."

* * *

"Can you discuss with your chauffer what you're hoping to accomplish on Fire Rock, Admiral?" Martz asked. We were alone in her dining room relaxing with after-dinner drinks. I had accepted a glass of pinot noir after a sip to sample the taste, as I seldom drank alcohol because of Red. But pinot noir was low on alcohol and I didn't intend to drink more than a few ounces. I already had drunk gallons of coffee and my system needed a break.

"Anna, if it doesn't destroy too much tradition," I said, taking a sip from my glass.

"Elaine. Not in private," she replied.

"Women who have voluntarily signed the kidnappers' contract have been threatened with what will happen if they break the contract and therefore won't talk. I'm hoping the ones on drugs are either beyond caring or want payback or…are therefore more willing to talk."

"Looking in the garbage cans for clues," Elaine said, but added quickly, "I don't mean the women are trash."

"I know. But in a real sense they are the kidnappers' trash. They should kill them and burn the evidence in our analogy, but I suspect they don't expect them to survive long—and killing them may get the police involved and create trouble for them. Who is going to listen seriously to an addict?"

"And who would expect a nosey NIA woman to search for unreliable addicts to get information?" She laughed. "The rumor mill has it that the senior army and marine officers have been told they are to support you if you request help. And I wouldn't mind blowing up their safe houses when you find them."

* * *

When I exited the shuttle with my escort, Commander Newman was waiting with Commissioner MacGregor. Newman saluted and gave me a warm smile.

"Welcome to Zaspa," MacGregor boomed in his normal megaphone voice. "I'm curious and thought you wouldn't mind if I tagged along."

"Certainly not. I consider this a UAS project as I'm working for them, but also as an excellent opportunity for the police and NIA to participate cooperatively to make the UAS a better place to live. In reality, it's much more your domain than ours," I said, shaking his hand. MacGregor didn't hesitate, although Red lay with his head on my shoulder.

"I thought not," he said and nodded. "Would you like to see Debbie Thomas now or to get settled and freshen up first?"

"Tell me a little about her. Where is she staying, working, has anyone talked to her, etc." I needed some background before I decided how to approach her.

"She apparently arrived here on a merchant ship as part of the crew, so she said. The ship is called the Flying Pig and the name fits. They haul a lot of junk other ships won't touch. When she departed, she went straight to the Mercy Clinic. They kept her as an inpatient for a month because of her condition. Then they found her employment. She subsequently applied for Zaspa citizenship using a false name claiming to be from Westar, or we would never have noticed her. It was still a bit of an accident. The person processing her application ran her against the Magic Act database and got a hit—Tamatha Naquin from Safe Harbor. He brought it to my attention and I called Newman. We decided to let you decide how to handle it. We approved her application so as not to spook her."

"Thank you, Commissioner. You did all the right things. I'm sure you and your folks would have done a good job, but I'm sure she rightfully has a case of extreme paranoia. She knows she is in danger if either of her legal names are discovered by the wrong people, and these people have operators on every system. Fortunately, I have facts you don't that I hope will help ease her fears."

"She visits the clinic once a week to get her meds and meet with a counselor. Her next appointment is for eighteen hundred hours tomorrow."

"Excellent. Let's arrange for her to meet with me instead of her scheduled counselor."

* * *

I sat in the counselor's chair—Rosemary Davidson, according to the name sign on the desk—waiting for Debbie Thomas to show for her appointment. According to Rosemary's file, Debbie had said she got hooked up with a wild bunch of boys and one thing led to another. They didn't want her to leave, so she managed to trade work for passage on the Flying Pig. I could just imagine what work they expected for the ride to Zaspa. Several minutes later there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," I said and a few seconds later an average-sized woman opened the door and stopped halfway when she saw me.

"You're not Rosy," she said, fear etched on her gaunt face. She looked very little like the pictures I had of Tamatha Naquin. She had lost muscle and fat, so I could see the outline of bones—and she looked twenty years older.

"Rosy is doing a friend a favor." I didn't really lie, but of course what I said—while true—was meant to mislead. The friend was Tamatha and the favor was the hope I could help.

"Will she be back?" Tamatha asked, her eyes darting around the room.

"She will be here for your next appointment," I said and Tamatha relaxed a bit. "How are you doing, Debbie?"

"I'm doing well, no drugs and the work at the church is…peaceful," she said and gave a weak smile. The first in a long time, I'd wager.

"Drugs give you a god-like feeling but not peace. Drugs wear off, but peace stays with you. Drugs make you a slave while peace sets you free," I said, thinking of the drugs they pumped into me after they retrieved me from the Shark.

"You sound like…"

"I've been there?" I asked and immediately continued. "I was tortured and raped for five days by over a hundred men. When I was about to die, they put me in a Rejuv unit and started over again."

"Oh my God," she said, her hand over her open mouth, eyes two round saucers; then tears formed and ran down her cheeks. "You…know!"

"I talked to Dora Cobb when she was on Sudan. She was rightfully terrified and afraid to say much."

"What happened to her?" Now her eyes squeezed almost closed with suspicion and fear.

"Nothing. She was picked up in a raid on a brothel. Since she wasn't caught doing anything, she was released without being charged. Her lawyers were there, and she didn't say anything she wasn't permitted to say so I'm sure she is fine."

"Who are you?" she asked, looking like a panicked animal wanting to flee but frozen with fear.

"Someone who knows your pain, all eighty-plus of you, and who will eventually destroy your abductors. Sooner with your help—a bit longer without it. But destroy them I will without destroying you or the other women in the process. Like me, you will have scars, but I think most of you can live productive lives like I am." I paused, knowing she needed time to sort through the issues—risk versus reward. "Would you like something to drink?"

She nodded. "Coffee, black," she said in a dead voice. I found a coffee machine and returned several minutes later and set her cup next to her and mine on the desk and sat.

Tamatha sat sipping the coffee but not speaking for a long time. Occasionally she looked toward me, then back toward the ground.

"They revived you in a Rejuv unit?" she asked, watching me closely. I nodded.

"They had me transported to a JPU war cruiser," I said.

"How did you escape?" She leaned toward me.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you my story if you will tell me yours. I promise not to tell anyone what you tell me if you promise not to tell anyone my story. Only my mother knows the entire story," I said, which was mostly true. She nodded, mesmerized. "I work for the Navy Intelligence Agency and was chasing pirates operating out of the JPU. We had learned…" I went on to explain what we knew and my trip to Westar, my capture, the Coaca Virus, Red and the ordeal and having to sleep in my mother's bed because of the nightmares.

"Wow! She said at the end. "What about—"

I knew what she wanted, and reached into the collar of my shirt and pulled out Red. "My medical dispenser."

"I don't know everything, but I'll tell you what I do know." She looked at me and I nodded. I woke up in a dark room with only a mattress on the floor and a pot to piss and shit in." She produced a twisted smile. "But no window to throw it out. A couple of days later, they let me out. The table was loaded with food and drink. While I ate, a scary woman gave me three choices: sign a ten-year contract to be a paid whore, become a drug addict for sex, or suicide. The contract stated I would receive five percent of each contract, and transportation, clothes, room, and board would be provided free. The contract contained a provision to buy out of the contract—one million credits. She claimed if I was smart, I could retire a rich woman after ten years or buy my way out in as little as five. So there was really only one choice: the contract. If you refused, they would get you hooked on drugs and then you could forget about suicide. So, I signed naively, thinking I would escape at the first opportunity, since I knew they would rent me out to very rich men as a prize escort to hang on their arms in public and available for twenty-four seven sex on demand—not chained to a bed in some brothel. I should have known they would know what someone in my position would be thinking. They were well informed and let me know if I ran, they would collect my two younger sisters like they did me and kill my father, mother, and older brother. And when they caught me, they would make me into a drug addict who would fuck for drugs until I eventually died." She stopped for a toilet break and a lazy lunch Banner fetched for us. While we ate, she asked questions about my ordeal and roared with pleasure when I recounted my killing spree. Then she sobered. "Having no real option, I signed. Afterward I was introduced to a sadistic evil bastard who indoctrinated me to my new career. Before he would release me, I had to prove to his satisfaction that I could convince him I enjoyed sex with him. No one living would enjoy sex with that twisted bastard. He loved to hurt you. It took about four weeks to graduate. For the next couple of months, it was mostly attending parties where I was available to anyone who wanted sex. The second year, rich men would rent me for a week or a month at a time. Then something changed. I was being rented out to sadistic men and women. You learn to expect one now and then, but the clients were all the same. The paychecks were larger, but I reached a point where I needed drugs to survive. And one day I decided I couldn't take it any longer regardless of the consequences and took the first opportunity I could to disappear—the Flying Pig. I left the ship on Zaspa planning to go off and die. Before I could, I stumbled on the Mercy Clinic and hoped I could find peace." Her smile turned evil. "Now I've found you and want revenge."

"All right, Miss Tamatha Naquin. It's a deal."

* * *

We spent the next three days documenting every client she could remember, every house she stayed in between assignments, the people she had met, and the systems she had been on. Now I had the names of thirty rich men who were undoubtedly regular clients of the group, twenty brothels on eight different systems, and four names I thought were part of the group running the kidnapping ring: Tashia, who gave the women their options, Lucio, who indoctrinated the women, and Efrain and Stefan, who accompanied them to have their names changed and arranged their transportation and housing. Tamatha had a sizeable bank account on Amend under the name Debbie Thomas but was afraid to use it for fear they could track her if she did.

For security, I had Tamatha moved to the Taranis. Late on the third night, Banner, Stamm, Tamatha, and I sat in my dining room drinking coffee.

"What now?" Tamatha asked.

"Attend to lose ends," I said. "Banner, who is the commanding military officer on Safe Harbor?" I looked to him. He was busy on his tablet for several minutes.

"Brigadier General Presley," he finally said.

"Send the following message to General Presley and use my NIA title," I said.

General Presley, I would appreciate it if you would do whatever is necessary to secure the safety of Mr. Frank Naquin and his family. Take into account that this protection may be necessary for an extended period of time and that a criminal organization is involved with potential ties on Safe Harbor. This is a P1A request and not to be discussed except on a need-to-know basis. I will update General Guzman. You may contact me on the UAS Cruiser Taranis if necessary. Inform Mr. Naquin that his daughter is safe.

"Thank you," Tamatha whispered in genuine relief.

"Tamatha, what were you studying in college before you were abducted?"

"Engineering."

"How is the drug addiction doing?" I asked as an idea began forming.

"I will never touch them again. Those drugs are linked directly to the abuse I suffered, not to pleasure. I haven't even been tempted since I found the Mercy Clinic."

I nodded and left for Captain Martz's office and was admitted immediately.

"What can I do for you…Anna?"

"I have a personal request…" I went on to explain the problem and my idea. An hour later, I returned to questioning faces.

"Congratulations, Tamatha; you are going to be crew on the Taranis. You will tutor under the communications officer."

"Me?"

"Yes; it's the safest place I can think of, you will learn a skill, and it will give you a chance to think about what you want to do after I destroy your former employer," I said, which elicited a smile from Tamatha.

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm glad I trusted you."

"Banner, see if you can find out where General Guzman is right now. Maybe the local commander knows. I would imagine they keep an eye on their boss." I smiled, thinking about his volatile nature. Banner was back in less than a half hour.

"Ma'am, he's on Fire Rock," Banner said, frowning. "Maybe something to do with Higgins?"

"It's possible. That's good, as Captain Martz is preparing to depart for Fire Rock within the hour."

CHAPTER FORTY- ONE

Star System: Fire Rock – Good News, Bad News

When I exited the shuttle with my escort, Commander Taber waited with General Guzman and another older man I didn't recognize. He looked very distinguished with his silver hair, expensive dark gray suit, and pleasant but no-nonsense face. I saluted Guzman before returning Taber's salute.

"Admiral Paulus, you already know General Guzman, but I'd like you to meet Police Commissioner Goodwin. Commissioner Goodwin, this is Admiral Paulus…" Taber stopped in mid-sentence as Red took that moment to appear and wrap around my neck with his red head pointing at Goodwin. "And her ever-present krait, Red," he finished. Goodwin had stopped halfway to me.

"Is he venomous?" he asked, appraising Red.

I took his hand and shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Commissioner Goodwin. Very, but he's lazy and not inclined to bite unless someone is trying to kill his meal ticket."

Goodwin laughed after a short pause and extracted his hand as he took a small step backward. "That would be justification," he said, then asked, "What do you intend to do with Higgins?"

I noticed Guzman looked very interested and watched me closely.

"Ironically, although he violated the secrecy of a P1A project, his intent was to get revenge on me, hoping General Guzman would, at a minimum, get me demoted or replaced and best case, kill me. Consequently, although I have justification to send him to Stonewall, it doesn't feel appropriate since his action didn't impact the project. I'll settle for him being removed from office. He appears more interested in his power rather than the citizens he's supposed to be protecting. I had to force him to help with the missing women I was pursuing when every other commissioner was eager to cooperate."

"That's very generous, Admiral Paulus," Goodwin said, obviously pleased.

"I'd like to bring you up to date on the Magic Act project and I have a personal update for General Guzman," I said, noticing Guzman's look had changed. Through Red, I could feel it had gone from suspicion to approval.

"You can use my office to update the General and then give me a briefing," Goodman said as we headed for the ground vehicles Pannell had arranged.

"Thank you, Commissioner. Commander Taber, why don't you come along since you are actively involved?"

* * *

"You what!?" Guzman bellowed in his best megaphone voice, turning heads in the outer office although the office door was closed and the room relatively soundproof. "Then you can free my daughter!" He stood to deliver his tirade.

I held up one finger. "First, you have no authority to give me orders. In fact, if I were to press charges, a court martial board would consider your actions unbecoming an officer." I paused, holding up another finger. "Second, I don't owe you the time of day. I don't owe you an explanation for what I'm doing, what I plan to do, or when I plan to do it. I don't owe you information on Susan or any other individual in the Magic Act. Nor does any other person involved on the project. In fact, attempting to obtain information from me or them would be a violation of a P1A project and justification to have you sentenced to Stonewall for the rest of your life." I paused and held up a third finger. "Third, considering your behavior, I seriously wonder if you shouldn't retire. You're not acting like someone fit to command men into battle." I pointed to the chair. He sat. I stood and walked to the door, saw Banner, and raised my voice. "Lieutenant Banner, can you get the general and me some hot coffee? His coffee is cold and it's making him cranky."

A minute later Banner appeared with two cups, one straight coffee and one a milky color. When he closed the door, I continued. "And the only reason I put up with your outrageous behavior is because I know the pain my mother experienced when she thought me dead at the hands of the pirates. A reasonable question would have been, Why did you free this current woman and not the others?" I said as I sat. "After all, there are eighty-plus women in their hands, not just your daughter."

"Why?" He whispered.

"The answer is, I didn't free her. She resorted to years of drugs to survive the special abuse they forced on her, and she finally cracked and escaped."

"Cracked? It was heroic, brave, the right thing to do…"

"Actually, she considers herself a coward who betrayed everything she believes in." I held up my hand. "That's the problem. You're viewing their world from your uninformed perspective—saving your daughter and alleviating your pain. Your daughter and the other women are looking at their world as it is. In your daughter's case, saving the lives of her mother, father, brothers, and having her sister dragged into the world of sex trafficking. In that sense, staying is brave, running cowardice." I paused for his knee-jerk response.

"I could protect Susan and my family."

"Maybe. Something you would be willing to gamble on, but I doubt Susan would. Consequently, she is willing to suffer so you won't. And that sums up the difference between you and me and the reason I question your fitness to command. You are concerned about Susan. I am concerned about all the missing women and the others who may be taken while I seek to destroy the kidnapping ring." I stood and opened the door when I saw the commissioner talking with Banner and Stamm. "Commissioner if we can use your conference room, I'll bring you up to date," I said loudly. When the commissioner and his chief deputy, Stamm, Banner, and I were seated, I began.

"It sounds like you've made a lot of progress," Goodwin said when I had finished.

"In beginning to understand their operation but not toward finding the leaders and destroying their organization. I believe the women have come in contact with some of the top leaders, but they have never seen their headquarters, or know what system it's on, or how the clients communicate with them, or how they select, kidnap, or transport the women…"

"Something most civilians don't understand. Most cases are solved after weeks and sometimes months of talking with people, collecting evidence at the crime scene, stakeouts, and searching through piles of garbage. The criminals usually don't leave their names and signed confessions."

* * *

On the way out, General Guzman stood waiting.

"Sir?" I asked.

"I'm passing the word to my commanders that they are to support you unequivocally, the Naquins will have our full protection, and that there's no need to check with me or report the actions they take." His voice was monotone. "Everything you said was right. You're in charge and are doing your best for the women and their families." He nodded and ambled off, head down in thought or prayer—or both.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Star System: Eastar – A New Adversary

The trip home took a little over four days, giving me lots of time to think—too much. I could think of no action I could take that would get me closer to the kidnappers. I just had to wait while the thousand people I had searching collected the bit and pieces which would fill in the puzzle and lead to the kidnapping ring's demise. But every day it took was another day the women suffered, and still other women were being kidnapped. I wanted to scream, to demand the space gods' help—just a finger pointing in the right direction. But screaming didn't help and the space gods didn't appear interested. Mercifully, we reached Eastar and I was relieved knowing I would have my mother to whine to.

* * *

We arrived back too late for Lulltrel to suggest I stop in to work to update her, so Pannell flew me straight home. At the door I was surprised Alexa wasn't waiting. She usually knew exactly when I would arrive and was waiting with a loving hug to welcome me home. I entered and shouted, "Mother, your gypsy daughter is home." No answer. The home was deathly quiet, and I began to worry. It was too late for her to be working at the courthouse, and knowing I was arriving back today, she wouldn't have gone out. Then I felt unreasonably hurt that she wasn't home to greet me. It had been all I could think of all day—get home and spend time with my mother. I stomped up the stairs, feeling like an adolescent who had been grounded for something she didn't do. At the top of the stairs, I looked toward Alexa's bedroom door a saw it open and the bed empty. Then I heard several musical chimes coming from the room. My mood lightened and I smiled, thinking she had some sort of surprise homecoming for me. Unusual, but if it pleased her, it pleased me. On the bed lay a tablet flashing Click for your surprise. I did, screamed, and dropped the tablet. The screen showed a picture of Alexa tied to a chair, shirt and bra off, and HELP carved into her chest with blood dripping from the cuts. When I had stopped throwing up and crying enough to see, I clicked on the message icon blinking next to her head and a message appeared.

My sister said you were annoying her and asked me to talk to you—in private—and convince you to stop. Actually, if I remember correctly, she said, "Make the little bitch suffer, then kill her." She was very upset. So I don't disappoint my sister, you will meet with me at GPS coordinates 40.2028 and 10.4416 tonight at midnight. If you come alone, we can negotiate the release of your mother. In that case, I will give you a fighting chance to kill me. If you refuse to come, I will begin sending you pieces of your mother as souvenirs. If you come and aren't alone, you will never see your mother again. Best wishes for a speedy decision.

I ran and retrieved my tablet from my purse, opened it, and entered the GPS coordinates. Judging by the satellite images, it was open country on the backside of Eastar. Hilly with only a few structures, each separated by many klicks. I picked up the foreign tablet and ran out the front door to my skimmer, climbed in the pilot's chair, and froze. Think, I chided myself. Think—what I do will determine Alexa's life, I mused. I wasn't dealing with a normal, rational human being. The sister had leverage—Alexa—but so did I. I sucked in a breath and typed:

I'm not meeting you in the dark. You need to arrange for us to meet early in the morning before the sun is visible but it's light enough for me to see my mother's condition. If I don't like her condition, I'll know you're a psychopath and can't be trusted and I will leave knowing you will kill her eventually regardless of what I do. If you send me so much as a fingernail, I will assume you're a psychopath and you will have to come get me.

I clicked Send and sat back, shaking uncontrollably, feeling like I was naked inside a meat-packing freezer. Several minutes later, a mail icon appeared. I clicked on it.

I'm Yanira, an honorable sister of the Kaliam. My word is my bond. You can trust me. The GPS I gave you at five hundred hours Eastar time. Come alone.

Yes, I can trust your word to your sister and the Kaliam, whoever they are, but not to a frightened young woman who you have given your word to kill. Out of curiosity, I searched for sister and Kaliam and was rewarded with a lengthy article. Kali was a blade fighting style developed on old Earth and further evolved on Sudan. The Kaliam was a sisterhood that practiced the art. The article went on to explain their traditions, including the Circle of Truth and Death by a Hundred Cuts. Membership was a closely held secret and the group were thought to be assassins and suspected responsible for a variety of killings. So much for a fair fight. I called Pannell.

"Paul, you, me, and all my security. Alexa has been kidnapped and I'm about to do something reckless, but hopefully with your help, not foolish or stupid."

"We'll be right over. Don't leave." He cut the connection. I snorted. I'd wager he had a tracking device on my skimmer, tablet, and me as well as two men sitting in a military shuttle not a hundred meters away.

* * *

When Paul arrived, I showed him the foreign tablet and the messages—the sister's and mine.

"What are you planning?" he asked. I could sense his surprise that I hadn't run off immediately.

"Red and I are planning to free our mother and kill the sister bitch," I said, not smiling or thinking it funny.

"Good idea. How?" he asked cautiously, probably remembering all my previous rash and reckless behavior.

"I don't know, but I'm not going alone. I'm taking you and whoever else you want to invite," I said and could feel his relief and trepidation.

"But she said you were to come alone," he said and looked to be awaiting the punchline.

"Fuck her with barbed wire—"

Paul choked and roared out a laugh.

"She has no choice like I have none. She has Alexa, so I have to go. She needs me, so she has no option but to work around the change in plans," I said, and Paul nodded with a small smile—he was going to the party.

* * *

Paul circled the area from several klicks up. "There are two people below. Both are sitting in…chairs or on benches. However, there are two shuttles behind that hill two hundred meters north and eight men on the hill looking down on the spot where Alexa and Yanira are sitting," Paul said, then added, "We could blow away the shuttles and the eight men leaving the sister without protection and a means of escape."

"No. She prides herself as an honorable sister-soldier, at least honorable to the sisterhood, so I'd be inclined to think she would kill Alexa and martyr herself fighting your men. Land and I'll go negotiate. You can blow her and her men away if things go badly," I said. "I'm not suicidal, Paul. But not trying to save my mother isn't an option."

He nodded and directed the pilot to land two hundred meters away from the hill and a hundred from the two sitting women. I got out, as did Paul and the six men he brought in the shuttle that carried me. Overhead were two more shuttles carrying another eight marines each.

I walked to within thirty meters and stopped. Alexa's wrists were tied with police restraints in front of her, she had a gag in her mouth, and each foot was tied to one of the back legs of the bench. Her shirt was off, showing the letters carved there. The wound had stopped bleeding and was beginning to scab in some areas. The sister called Yanira sat behind Alexa, obscuring most of her body and head.

"You disobeyed my directions," Yanira said as she placed a knife to Alexa's throat.

"I don't take orders from you and certainly don't trust you. Maybe if you manage to kill me, your sisters will consider you a martyr to the cause rather than inept," I said with my heart in my mouth. "Before my mother's blood hits her shoulder, you and the eight men on the hill will look like hamburger meat and your two shuttles will be junk metal," I said, hoping she wasn't looking to be a martyr because I was betting my mother's life on it. "Because of my illness I only expect ten more years to live; my mother is old, so she can't expect more than thirty years; but you're young and could reasonably expect seventy or eighty years. You can see, therefore, why it’s a reasonable gambit from my standpoint. Not so good for you."

"You think you're very clever," Yanira said.

"No, just not stupid. I'm willing to fight you, but it's obvious you can't be trusted."

She smiled. "Obviously neither of us can be trusted. What are you proposing?"

"I would propose to let you leave unharmed, but since you wouldn't consider honoring such a proposal if you were in my shoes, you wouldn't trust me to honor it," I said, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. "That leaves us with the fight option."

"The Circle of Truth," Yanira said, barely able to contain a grin. I nodded.

"With guns. I couldn't peel an apple with a knife without cutting myself while I'd bet you could peel one in midair before it hit the ground."

This time Yanira laughed. "You believe you can hit an apple in the air?" she said.

"No, but I can hit a human," I said. We spent the next hour agreeing on the terms and conditions. In the end it was decided that one of Yanira's shuttles would be left with Alexa inside for the winner to leave the area. Her other shuttle with her support team and the military shuttles would leave together. When they were fifteen minutes out, they would part ways unmolested. I doubted Yanira cared what happened to them, but they guaranteed the military shuttle couldn't return in time to stop her from leaving the area—she knew she would win. I knew she would kill Alexa if I lost, but I couldn't stop that. In a way, that would be a kindness, as Alexa would blame herself for my death and have a miserable life. When the shuttles rose, Yanira and I stepped into the circle she had etched into the soft ground. We stood twenty meters apart—a distance that I was sure Yanira felt gave her an advantage. Although the sisters' weapon of choice was the knife, I was sure she had been trained in the use of an Mfw and was an excellent shot. I was counting on my ability to shoot from the hip with sufficient accuracy to win, as I thought she would need to raise the weapon to eye level. A margin of less than a second.

"Welcome to the Circle of Truth, Admiral Paulus," Yanira said while the shuttles were still rising into the sky. We had agreed not to fire before the signal that the shuttles were ten minutes out. Of course, it was to my advantage to fire immediately. If she killed me, Paul may be able to get back soon enough to kill the sister before she could kill Alexa. It was unlikely, but at least the sister wouldn't get away. I decided not to on the chance I could learn something useful given I won.

"Interesting theory," I said. "Truth. The guilty party is nervous because she knows the…gods…or departed sisters…knew her lies and because she is nervous she's slow and tentative and loses to the honest one," I said, groping for the concept.

"More or less. With all the sisters watching, the guilty one suspects they know she's guilty and results in her being more distracted," she said, never taking her eyes off me.

"And what truth are we seeking? Neither you nor the sister who called for your help has any honor, but I doubt that will make you nervous or slow."

"We have honor to the sisterhood, not toward others. I would never dishonor my sisters."

"Even Tashia the coward?" I asked.

"Sister Tashia could face you and your Mfw with only her knives," Yanira said, louder than before, indicating I had hit a sore spot.

"If she could, why did she send you? No, she's a coward. Her only honor is to herself."

"Jamar, the man who failed three times to kill you, died in the Circle of Truth. Tashia gave him Death from a Hundred Cuts without receiving a single cut herself," Yanira said defensively. Her anger almost prompted her to reach for her Mfw.

"Probably drugged the poor idiot."

"No; that would violate the rules of the Circle."

"Wouldn't bother a coward like Tashia. One gets rusty threatening young, drugged, and unarmed women. Even then, she needs a man in the room for support." I laughed. "When I find her, I think I'll kill her in the Circle."

Yanira's face turned red but then broke into a smile. "Better stay off Shadows…" She stopped, realizing she had said too much. "Doesn't matter; you aren't leaving Eastar." Not waiting for the signal, she reached for her Mfw. It was not the smooth, practiced motion of a professional but in the grab of someone enraged and wanting to smash something, anything.

My hand touched the handle of the Mfw about the same time as she did, but her mad grab didn't produce a clean grip, which slowed bringing the weapon up and out as the nozzle of my weapon cleared the holster slightly faster. As her weapon rose toward eye level, my weapon twisted up as it cleared the holster. While her arm was beginning to push her weapon into firing position, I fired, hitting her in the lower intestines. She bent from the pain, reflexively firing into the ground a few meters in front of her. My second shot hit her in the chest, driving her stumbling backward. My third shot hit her in the forehead, sending her crashing onto her back. I stood there relieved but drained—brain dead, as if my brains had drained out with the energy.

At some point, I realized Alexa was in the shuttle. She had heard the weapons fire but wouldn't know who had won, sitting there sick with worry. When I entered the shuttle, she had tears running down her face and her face brightened. I took off the gag, cut the restraints, and grabbed her in a hug so tight the Grim Reaper couldn't have separated us. Neither of us moved or spoke until much later, when the sound of shuttles could be heard approaching.

"I think maybe Paul is returning with his fingers, toes, and eyes crossed, hoping you somehow pulled off another miracle. Actually, I'm curious," Alexa said as she wiped her hand across her wet face.

"Thanks to my mother for her foresight and having me trained in weapons, criminals wanting to kill me, which forced me to practice, and Paul's help with shoot-from-the-hip lessons. Ironically, she probably could have hit me in the kill area while I was moving, but I was faster…and being shot in the intestines does throw your aim off," I said with a grin. Alexa roared with laughter and was still laughing when Paul came lunging into the shuttle, weapon out, and ready to engage. He stood shaking his head then looked to Alexa.

"She's in their minds, Paul."

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Star System: Eastar – The Search Continues

"I've assigned your mother a full-time security detail," Lulltrel said when we had assembled for her weekly staff meeting, which appeared to occur several times a week when I was in Eastar. "Judging from Colonel Pannell's report, you are getting smarter. Must be the promotion to admiral."

"Thank you, ma'am. It's hard to get past Colonel Pannell's security, so they look for ways around it."

"Anything new?"

"Yes, the Kaliam sister they sent let it slip that Tashia resides on Shadows Rest. She may be the head of the kidnapping ring. And that she killed Jamar with a Death of a Hundred Cuts. I think she meant it literally."

"She doesn't tolerate failure well," Lulltrel said with a snort.

"I hear you had another…session with General Guzman on Fire Rock."

"I can understand why the police don't like to share information with civilians about the cases they are working on." I paused to think about how much to say. "I think we got the rules straight."

Everyone around the table leaned forward, looking interested and I sensed amused..

"Rules?" Lulltrel asked.

"Yes, ma'am. That I understand his concern for his daughter's welfare, but my duty is to free all of the missing women."

* * *

"Well what's new, Damon?" I asked at my staff meeting, thinking I was beginning to sound like Lulltrel and that was scary.

"We are building a comprehensive list of UAS brothels—legal and illegal—thanks to Tamatha, the new names of the recently abducted women, and the names of those we believe are significant members of the kidnapping ring. So far, they all appear to reside on Shadows Rest. In addition, the names of the merchant ships that transport the kidnapping ring leaders and kidnapped women. We know of three to date: Merry Dee, Lady Luck, and Dolphin Two—"

"Yes, that's it. The women have to be moved from system to system," I said, thinking the merchants may give us the answer. "Damon, you said you had a good programmer."

"Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Commander Abbott."

"Give him access to the Magic Act database. Have him assign each woman a unique number. Then for each woman, determine the system and the day she was reported missing and create an abduction window twelve days long—five days before and seven days after that date. He will then have a unique identifier package for each woman, for example: Black Water, 5, 2/10–20/425—a woman from Black Water with an abduction window from the fourth month tenth day through the twentieth, identified by the number five, abducted in the four hundred twenty-fifth year by the official Eastar calendar."

"What will that tell us?" Damon asked, frowning at the note she had just made on her tablet.

"Nothing. It's an interesting question for which we must seek an answer. I will let you ponder the question while Commander Abbott works on the program. Let me know when he finishes."

* * *

Two days later, Damon called to tell me Commander Abbott had created the list I had requested. I arranged for a meeting in the afternoon after calling Admiral Hadley.

"Hi, Teresa. How would you like to run a search for me?" I asked when she answered.

"Hi, Anna. I assume it has something to do with the missing women," she said. When I said it did, she continued. "But only if you explain what you are after."

"Deal. Join me in my office after lunch and I'll explain."

* * *

"Well, Commander Damon, what's your sneaky boss up to now?" Hadley asked as she entered my office.

"Ma'am, I have no idea. She asked me to have one of my computer wizards scan the Magic Act database for the missing women we've identified and to create a window of minus five and plus seven around the date each woman went missing. She said it was a question that needed answering," Damon said, looking at Hadley. She nodded after gazing off into space for several minutes, then looked at me.

"You want to know what merchant ships were in port during each window you've created around the time each woman went missing," Teresa said. "What will that give you?"

"From what we know, it's a reasonable conjecture that the women were transported to another system after their abduction. The only way to go between systems is by spacecraft. I'm hoping that window is the time period during which the merchant ship arrived to transport the woman. If you can get me the merchant ships that fit in each window, Commander Damon can determine the merchants working with the kidnappers." I smiled at Damon, who looked back in open-mouthed horror.

"What if they are using random merchants?" Damon asked weakly.

"Unlikely. From the two women I talked with, they didn't remember being kidnapped, transported, or delivered to the room where they gained consciousness. The conclusion is they were drugged. If true, I doubt the average merchant is going to take a drugged woman as a passenger. Therefore, we can conjecture that a woman is selected, a merchant contacted, and when he arrives, the woman is abducted."

"Then we'll know the merchants working with the kidnappers." Teresa grinned. "And we can send them to Stonewall."

"Then we can determine where they take the women for indoctrination...and maybe how the women are selected," I said, considering that the merchants were only paid help. The goal was to find the kidnapping ring leaders.

"If our first conjecture is right, the merchant either isn't contacted until a woman is selected or he comes with the name of someone the kidnapping ring has selected. Since the women are scattered around the UAS, I would think the ring does the selection based on their needs. If true, they must have profiles sent to them for consideration," I said, thinking that appeared to fit the limited information we had accumulated.

"I think you're two steps ahead of me. Keep me in the loop; I'm interested," Teresa said, reaching a hand toward Damon, who dropped a small data chip into her outstretched hand.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Star System: Eastar – The Lists

Hadley, Damon, Abbot, Banner, Stamm, and I sat in the Condor Conference room staring at the monitor that contained the results of the search data I had requested. Red had wound into my hair and had his head looking at the monitor, as if he was reading or maybe analyzing the data.

"That's a lot of data," Hadley said, frowning at the screen. "My folks tell me there are currently four hundred thirty-three active merchants, although some are more active than others. Commander Abbott's windows captured two hundred sixty-two merchants, although only one hundred thirty-one were unique." She laughed. "But those one hundred thirty-one merchants had over fifteen hundred occurrences over the five years you asked me to cover."

"Excellent. We've eliminated one hundred seventy-one merchants," I said, maintaining a serious expression. Everyone except Hadley gave me an incredulous look.

"All right, girl prodigy, what do you know that we don't?" Hadley asked, staring at the monitor like it had some hidden data.

"Commander Abbott is going to reduce that number to something Commander Damon can use to find the merchants we are looking for." This time I had trouble keeping from laughing, as Damon and Abbott's eyes went from me to the monitor to each other and back to me as if looking for a signal they missed or hoped to find. Their looks of horror finally locked on me. Banner and Stamm were trying to look expressionless, although it was a strain. Hadley frowned in thought.

"All right, I'll give you a hint," I said, turning my attention on Abbott. "Commander Abbott, I'm not a programmer, so I won't try to tell you how to do what I want. I'll just tell you what I want." I paused. Abbott nodded, and his look of horror relaxed. "I would like all ninety windows visible on the monitor with the identified merchant ship or ships' names that were present during the dates in the window." I looked to Abbott, who nodded. "I want one switch to manipulate the window's time period—to shorten the number of days before the abduction date and the number of days after that date." I looked to Abbott. He was silent for a minute, then nodded. "When you decrease either of those dates, only ships arriving during the new window dates will remain."

"So, if you have a ship, A, arriving four days before the abduction date, another ship, B, two days afterward, and the third ship, C, six days afterward, decreasing the number of days arriving before from five to two, it would cause ship A to disappear. Conversely, decreasing the number of days arriving after the abduction from seven to five would cause ship C to disappear," Abbott said, and a small grin appeared.

"Correct, Commander. Then a second control to identify the number of occurrences; that is the number of times a particular merchant ship was identified within a missing woman's abduction window. Therefore, I can ask for all merchant ships with any specific number of occurrences in a given window." I looked to Abbott. He nodded slowly, his eyes downcast in thought. "And a third control to vary the year or years we are looking at. For example, a single year—four hundred twenty-five—would show only the ships with occurrences in that year. But I'd also like to be able to ask for multiple years." I paused and Abbott nodded, then grinned.

"And you would like all three controls to work together?"

"Perfect," I said, smiling my approval.

* * *

"Commander Abbott and I have been playing with MAC over the past twenty-four hours. MAC is what Commander Abbott has named the new application—Magic Act Centrifuge, since it separates the good information from the bad. It's fantastic. We think we have isolated six merchant ships that are supporting the kidnappers' operation," Damon said, looking around the room. The same group was present. "First, if you look at either the merchant ships with ten or more occurrences or you look at ships that arrived two to three days prior to the abduction, they are the ones that stand out. And if you put the two conditions together, they are the only ships displayed: Mary Dee, Dolphin Two, Wind Jammer, Benjamin, Lady Luck, and the Dependable."

I sat playing with MAC, watching the merchant ships disappear and return as I isolated a year or combined several together and narrowed the window's time frame. It would have taken anyone weeks to look at the raw data Hadley had provided and to do the analysis MAC provided visually in seconds. Just moving the number of occurrences to ten or more instantly reduced the list from over a hundred to just eleven.

"Great job, Commander," I said to a grinning Abbott. "I give MAC five stars."

"What now?" Hadley asked. "If we arrest those merchants, we could stop the abductions."

"Temporarily, but it does nothing to free the women. We need another search."

"The itinerary for those six ships over the past three years?" Hadley asked. I nodded.

"Hopefully that will help us to locate the indoctrination system and one more piece of the puzzle," I said, wondering how much the merchants knew about the operation. Were they just paid transportation or were they a more integral part of the process?

* * *

I sat at one end of the couch with Alexa at the other after a satisfying dinner of rabbit prepared the Hungarian way with prunes, along with roasted potatoes, creamed corn, and a mocha mousse for dessert.

"Sounds like your idea worked?" Alexa asked after I explained MAC and the results it produced.

"It moves us one step closer. But it doesn't solve the basic problem, how do they pick the women. That has to be done centrally."

"Why?" Alexa asked.

"MAC sort of verifies that conclusion. In each case, a merchant shows up before the abduction occurs. In addition, the fact that the kidnapped women are spread pretty evenly around the UAS suggests it's not random or driven by the individual systems. I think each system identifies women who meet the general criteria. Somehow, that information is transmitted to the kidnapping ring, who make a selection and send it back with a merchant. The kidnapped woman is then abducted and put on the merchant's ship and delivered to a system were the initial indoctrination takes place. The kidnapped woman is then taken for a legal name change and subsequently to her first assignment." Red had been in my hair with his head lying on my forehead and seemed to agree with my assessment. Of course, he didn't communicate in any way. I just took his continued presence on my head as agreement. "But that's the piece I can't figure out. How do they get that information to the kidnapping ring?" I didn’t think the information was sent through the WaveCom. That would be like an arrow pointing directly to the group—fifteen systems sending multiple messages to one person or company would be like a flare on a moonless night. It could be through merchants, but were they the same six merchants or were others involved? With that thought, Red left my head and disappeared into my shirt, probably disgusted I couldn't figure it out.

* * *

Hadley had the search results ready twenty-four hours later. I gave them to Damon with instructions to get Abbott to incorporate the data into MAC. The next day we met again to review the result.

"That's interesting," Damon said. "It looks like they changed indoctrination systems in the year four hundred twenty-three. For the first two years, it appears to have been Shadows Rest; however, for the last three years it's Truth Star and Holy Star."

"Banner, send the following message to all NIA stations. Use Crazy Numbers."

We have identified the merchant ships Mary Dee, Dolphin Two, Wind Jammer, Benjamin, Lady Luck, and Dependable as supporting the kidnappers. For now, this information is to be kept confidential within the NIA. If leaked, it could compromise our ability to destroy the kidnappers' ring. You're to monitor all passengers on these ships and report your results to Commander Damon so she can update our Magic Act database.

"Yes, ma'am," Banner said and left in a run.

"David seems to enjoy being my aide-de-camp, but in truth, with as little work as I have, I could easily do what he does," I said, looking at Hadley.

"True, but then you would make the rest of us look bad. Admirals are supposed to give out work, not do it." She laughed. "Think of it as training the next generation of admirals. Banner is a perfect aide-de-camp. He's studying you and learning lessons that he'll use throughout his career and pass on to his subordinates."

"Admiral Hadley, is right, ma'am. Banner takes his duties seriously and admires you," Stamm said, looking far too serious.

"That's scary, since I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and the other half I'm screwing up some long-established tradition," I said to everyone's obvious amusement.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Star System: Eastar – Reasonable Proof

"Teresa, can you get me the itinerary of all the merchant ships that visited Eastar two months prior to Susan Guzman's abduction?"

"Sure, anything for the NIA's resident witch." She laughed. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm hoping Red will discover how they select the woman they want abducted," I said. "Someone has to create a dossier on women meeting the criteria we established. The kidnapping ring then uses that to select who they want. I would suspect pictures, maybe a vid, and information on all the criteria we suspect they are interested in—education, drug use, sexual habits, etc."

"You think the kidnapping ring has people on every system feeding them information on prospective candidates for abduction." Hadley frowned. "That's a scary thought. They would have to stalk women for months to get that information. This is the first time I'm glad I don’t have any daughters. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night."

* * *

Teresa called the next day. "I have that information you asked for. What do you want me to do with it?"

"Are you available today?" I asked, knowing she was interested and was closely following what I was doing.

"I'm an admiral. Consequently, I have little to occupy me after sending people off to work."

"At the risk of destroying your reputation as another bored admiral, join me in my office."

"It won't. I'm just giving you work." With a laugh, she cut the connection.

"Stamm, get Damon and Abbott. I have a task for them," I said and couldn't help a mental grin, realizing this was what Lulltrel did when she wanted me and how I responded, knowing Damon and Abbott were racing up the stairs at this very minute—unless they were in Rejuv. Three minutes later there was a knock on the door; Stamm peeked in, I nodded, and Damon and Abbott rushed in. I returned their salutes and waved for them to sit. Hadley arrived a minute later.

"The merchants are their weak point in the chain," I blurted, feeling excited. "Damon, Abbott, I need a new program. We need a new window for each abducted woman for the time period from two to four months prior to the abduction." When I looked around the conference room table, everyone was frowning in thought. "Admiral Hadley has the information you will need to program what I want."

"Ma'am, you want all the merchant ships that arrived in system two to four months prior to the date of a woman's abduction?" Abbott asked, trying to make sure he understood what I wanted. "And I assume you want a control to narrow that window." He gave a small grin.

I grinned back. "Exactly."

"What are you looking for?" Teresa asked.

"Commander Abbott will get MAC-2 to tell us how the kidnapping ring is getting their information on the pool of potential targets." I paused for comments. None came. "After you have the program working, Commander Damon will use the Susan Guzman abduction for the example. Determine the merchant or merchants to follow, then determine where they stop. No need to follow it longer than for a period equal to two thirds of the total time prior to the abduction. We will consider that the necessary turnaround time. And at each stop, track any of the other kidnapping merchants that are there when they arrive and before they leave. You will need to track those merchant ships also for our estimated turnaround time. If you need anything else, Admiral Hadley will designate someone to help retrieve any additional information you may require."

"You're trying to follow the merchant to the kidnapping ring."

"Possibly, but more likely to another merchant or merchants who will eventually end up at the kidnapping ring's system. I would think it would be very inefficient and noticeable for each merchant to have to travel directly to the kidnapping ring's system. But I'm hoping MAC-2 will be able to tell us."

"Then raid their headquarters and close them down," Teresa said, pointing her fingers like a gun. "Pow."

"Wonderful thought, but it's a puzzle and I suspect we will have to put all the pieces in their proper place before we can do that…or risk losing some of the players or fail to find all of the kidnapped women," I said.

Teresa laughed. "If I were the kidnappers, I'd pay you whatever you asked to retire early."

Killing me is their preferred method, I mused.

* * *

It took three days for Hadley and Damon's folks to produce the map because of the complexities: each merchant that was identified at any of the stops had to be tracked and either eliminated or designated as a potential carrier of information. The sample was Susan Guzman. The Merry Dee was the only kidnapping merchant to arrive in the MAC-2's two-month window. When it left two days later, the Merry Dee traveled from Eastar to Holy Star, where it met with the Wind Jammer. The Merry Dee then went to New Zheng, which eliminated it from further consideration. The Wind Jammer, on the other hand, went to Truth Star, where it rendezvoused with the Benjamin. The Wind Jammer was eliminated from consideration when it went to Amend next. The Benjamin's next stop was Shadows Rest. Not conclusive, but at least one potential kidnapping ring site.

"Great job," I said after reviewing the final map showing the various merchant ships and their stops—about fifty in total. "Now we need to collaborate this result with a couple of additional samples. I would hate to have the wrong system, as it would alert the kidnapping ring without producing any tangible results. Pick two abductions that don't overlap the Susan Guzman time period and do another map. If all three appear to end at the same place, we'll know we understand their information retrieval system and where the decisions are being made." I knew it would be a lot of hard work, but everyone seemed excited about doing it. In reality, I wished I were helping—the bane of being an admiral.

* * *

Three days later, they were back with the results.

"Once you know what you are looking for, it's easier," Damon said. "We picked abductions on Sudan and Black Water. The Dependable was on Sudan three months before the abduction. Upon leaving, it went to Amend, where it joined the Lucky Lady. The Lucky Lady then went to Oxax, where the Benjamin was waiting. And the Benjamin's next stop was Shadows Rest," Abbott said.

"And the Dolphin Two was on Black Water two months before the abduction. Its next stop was Truth Star, where the Lady Luck waited. The Dolphin Two went to Eastar next, so it was eliminated. And the Lady Luck went directly to Shadows Rest.

"Those transfers seem a bit inefficient, although each merchant appears to have a primary area it trades in. However, if when two ships meet they pass on the information they have collected to date, then it would make sense," Damon said.

"Not only more efficient, it precludes raising any red flags if some busybody is snooping around," I said to everyone's amusement.

"The data is limited but encouraging, as the three samples produce consistent results. The information is collected at each system and then passed up the line to Shadows Rest, where the specific women are selected and sent back down the chain of merchants to the selected woman's system. "Now, Commander Damon, see if you and Commander Abbott can establish a link from Shadows Rest to Merry Dee and the abduction of Susan Guzman. And while you are at it, the abductions on Sudan and Black Water."

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Star System: Eastar – Time for Some Action

"Mother, if you had pictures and a vid as well as personal information you didn't want discovered, how would you keep it?" I asked, wanting a second opinion. I had an idea, but it was dangerous and would negate our present progress if we failed.

"Well, I'd want it on one medium since it would be easier to carry, hide, and pass on to someone. That would mean digital storage, which would also allow it to be encrypted. I would think a computer, tablet, or data chip," Alexa said as if thinking out loud.

"You're on a spacecraft and don't want it found and eventually need to pass the information to someone who is also on a spacecraft," I said to clarify the conditions I had conjectured from what we knew to date.

"You could put it on your system's main computer and transfer it electronically without having to meet the person physically."

"That's what I was thinking. But then it would be impossible to find even if you had the system's password," I said, with a tone of defeat ringing in my ears.

"Not really. The system assigns a date and time to software and files when they are created and updated. That is true for anything added to the system. Therefore, you could ask the system directory to list files by date added," Alexa said. "But if it's encrypted or the file is password locked…"

"The kidnapping ring is passing information about potential kidnapping targets. I suspect they would encrypt the file not only to protect it from falling into the wrong hands but also to keep the kidnapping merchants transporting it from snooping," I said. "I would. The less they knew, the safer for the kidnapping ring."

Alexa nodded, then asked, "What do you know now about the kidnapping ring's operation?"

Red emerged from my open blouse then as if to hear and add his two credits; although he never communicated, I had a feeling he somehow did in some indirect or obscure way. Alexa pointed to him. "Red also appears interested."

"He probably already knows the answer to the problem and wants to hear whether I've progressed any." Although said in jest, I actually thought it was true to some degree. Red did things that defied rational explanation. "Not that anyone really cares, we identified many legal and illegal brothels the kidnapping rings use. In most cases, the systems fine the women and the owners and close them down. But they are up and running the next day. We'd identified several wealthy men who use the kidnapping ring's services. We could embarrass these men, but at most, they would get fined if they got punished at all. The men are seldom punished unless the girls are significantly underage, and the kidnapped women are all adults. It seems pretty conclusive the kidnapping ring has people on every system collecting information on women who meet the criteria we've established. They pass this information on to six kidnapping merchants who deliver it in some form to the kidnapping ring. The kidnapping ring makes choices, which they pass back to the system and the chosen women are abducted using drugs and transported to one of two systems for indoctrination. They are then taken to another system for a legal name change and then they begin their new career."

"Why don't the kidnapped women…revolt...run away and contact the police?"

"The kidnappers are very clever and evil. They give the women options…three to be exact, although in reality, only one is viable. They convince the women that they voluntarily signed a legal and binding contract. They would show that to the police, which would confuse the issue and involve lawyers and trials, which no one wants. While that was going on, the kidnapping ring would carry out the threats they made to each woman. They vary somewhat but would include making them drug addicts, abducting one of their younger sisters, killing their father and mother… It's very effective. They are shown women who revolted—mindless drug addicts who are willing to have sex for drugs in run-down brothels servicing the dregs of the system."

Alexa shuddered and her eyes were filled with tears. "Don't you know enough to destroy them?"

"We understand the basic operation and the systems they use for indoctrination, and we believe their headquarters is in Shadows Rest and we know a few of the core members. But to destroy their operation, we will need to know all the specific people and—more importantly—have proof. Right now, it's speculation. Otherwise, they will just disappear and reappear someplace else," I said, feeling as frustrated as Alexa sounded. "Maybe Guzman is right. I should just save as many as I can…" Red's tongue flicked against my cheek several times and I knew—with certainty—that wasn't a wise decision.

* * *

For the next week I thought of a hundred ways to close down the kidnapping ring, none of which I thought would do more than inconvenience them, nor would my actions help the women. I could stop new women from being abducted for a few years but could do little for the women already under their control. I tossed and turned all night long and woke with a galaxy-sized headache, which plagued me all day as I struggled to find workable ways to destroy the kidnapping ring. I pushed food around my plate at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and was losing a half kilogram a day, which I could ill afford. By the end of the week, I could see that everyone was concerned and tippy-toed around me like a fragile piece of art that would shatter with the least amount of vibration—like walking too hard or talking above a whisper or closing a door tight.

At my normal staff meeting, Damon sat quietly until I looked in her direction.

"Ma'am, we can show a link from Shadows Rest to the Merry Dee and the kidnapping of Susan Guzman as well as the abductions on Sudan and Black Water."

I just sat there, numb, not saying a word as Banner quietly set down a cup of coffee. A tear slid down my face as I continued staring off into space, locked in my misery.

"That's it!" I slammed the conference room table with the palm of my hand, which produced a loud crack as I bolted to my feet. That caused everyone in the room to rocket to attention, not sure what was happening. "Enough pussy-footing around, trying to comply with rules and regulations while women are being abused by animals who don't believe in the law. Correction—hiding behind the laws they are breaking." I looked around the room and would have laughed if I hadn't been boiling with rage. Damon, Banner, and Stamm stood frozen, fear written on their pale faces. "Damon, get Abbott in here. Banner, order lunch for us all. I'm starving. Stamm, get Colonel Pannell and tell Admiral Hadley I would like to see her ASAP. Now!" I shouted and sat, feeling alive for the first time in weeks. As I waited, I wiped up the coffee that had spilled, topped off my cup with fresh hot coffee, and sipped while I waited.

A few minutes later Damon entered with a panting Commander Abbott, followed by Banner announcing lunch was on its way, and then a smiling Hadley, who quietly took a seat. When Pannell arrived not long afterward, he, too, looked to have been running.

"Relax, please. I apologize for my behavior over the last week or so. I'd be more specific, except I'm not sure of all the rude or inappropriate things I might have done." That got a few smiles and a snort or two. "My mind has been consumed with trying to determine how to destroy the kidnapping ring. I've deduced many ways to disrupt them temporarily or slow them down, but not to destroy them permanently. At least, ways that are legal. Our laws, which help protect the innocent, equally protect and shield the guilty. With their money and lawyers, perhaps the laws favor them more than the average innocent person." I stopped when Stamm answered a knock at the door and opened it for the caterers to place the food on the table. "Eat while I talk. You are all now under P1A orders not to tell anyone what I'm planning or doing. And that will protect you if I exceed my authority. In that case, you will be free to speak later if my actions result in a UAS board of inquiry." I laughed, seeing everyone's fork suspended several centimeters in the air and every set of eyes staring at me. I sat eating for a few minutes, which had the desired effect, and they continued eating—although their eyes didn't stop darting between me and their plates.

"I'm not going to sit idle any longer while decent women are abused and their abusers hide behind the laws that should be protecting these women. If the kidnapping ring thinks they hate me today…" I laughed. "I predict in a month I will have all top ten slots on their wanted dead list." I felt sorry for Paul; he looked ashen, although I felt a sense of approval. In fact, that seemed to be the general consensus, including from Red, who was in my hair with his head on my forehead like he was ready to begin. "Abbott, any reason you can't travel?"

"No, ma'am," he said without hesitation.

"Good, You, Banner, and Stamm will pack for an extended trip and be prepared to aboard the Taranis on twenty-four-hours notice. Master Chief, see if you can arrange for a meeting with General Guzman and Captain Martz on the Taranis today. Tell them it is urgent."

* * *

"Good afternoon, Admiral Paulus," Martz said after a salute. She had chosen to meet me when I arrived. "General Guzman arrived fifteen minutes ago. He's waiting in my conference room. You didn't say anything about wanting to—"

"I'm sorry for dragging you away from whatever you were doing with no notice or explanation. I do plan to be on the move again, but you will have plenty of notice to recall crew and prepare to leave. But I wanted to talk with you and the general first," I said, feeling a bit guilty, but I felt a sense of urgency to get everything in motion and begin swinging my wrecking ball. Martz led me to her conference room in silence, probably trying to guess what I wanted. When I entered the room, Guzman looked up from his coffee cup. He felt nervous, probably concerned that it was news about his daughter and wasn't good.

"General, Captain, I've concluded it could takes years to destroy the kidnapping ring without some miraculous gift from the space gods. They have the advantage of using our laws against us while breaking them," I said as I sat. Guzman looked like a man who just heard he had the Coaca Virus and only had days to live. Martz seemed like she expected an enemy cruiser to appear any minute. Banner placed a cup of coffee in front of me. "That is unacceptable; therefore, I have decided to play the kidnappers' game, and this is the reason I've asked you to meet with me. I'm offering you the opportunity to leave, since I might well order you under P1A authority to break the law. That should insulate you from prosecution but not from having to break the law." I picked up my coffee and sat drinking while awaiting their response.

"What about you?" Martz asked, concern evident in her voice and face.

"I've decided the UAS committee will have to decide which evil is worse. I'm willing to suffer the consequences of my actions." I didn't add that I had less to lose because of Red. I felt sorry for Alexa, not me.

"What about my daughter?" Guzman asked, hope in his eyes.

"I can't guarantee anything, General. I'm going to free everyone I find as long as I have my P1A authority," I said.

"Count me in, Admiral Paulus," Guzman said, determination and hope hardening his facial features.

"Me too," Martz said, smiling and amused. "Wish the kidnappers had a cruiser or two, but it sounds like an interesting and worthwhile assignment."

"Thank you. You are now under P1A orders not to discuss my plans or actions with anyone without my permission. Captain Martz, how long before you can conveniently be ready to depart Eastar?"

"Conveniently, forty-eight hours," she said.

"General Guzman?" I asked, thinking it may be convenient to have the general along in case I wanted unquestionable compliance from the army and marines.

"You want me along?" he asked, hesitant because of our previous confrontations.

"As an advisor and support. Project Magic Act is no longer a passive collector of information. Magic Act is now an active collector of information and people—smash and grab," I said to Guzman's smiling face, a rare event. He looked like a kid entering a candy store. "All right. We leave for someplace in forty-eight hours. Banner, send the following message to all NIA stations."

You are to report any woman reported missing who meets the Magic Act criteria to Commander Damon for inclusion in the database and copy me aboard the UAS Cruiser Taranis immediately. Include the name of any kidnapping merchant in port one to three days prior to the woman being reported missing. In addition, the time the kidnapping merchant left port relative to the time the woman was reported missing. Send your report as urgent.

If anyone knows where Susan Guzman—alias Krystal Berry—is, send the information encrypted attention Admiral Paulus on the Cruiser Taranis.

* * *

"What are you planning, Daughter?" Alexa asked that evening after I explained I would be leaving in forty-eight hours.

"To become the kidnappers' number-one enemy," I said and regretted the quip before the last word slipped through my lips. Not that it wasn't accurate but because of what it implied—the kidnapping ring would be trying even harder to kill me. "I'm going to wreck their operation and free every woman I find. Captain Martz said she wished they had a few cruisers."

That caused Alexa to smile. "I can understand that. She'd like something to wreck too. Be careful, Daughter." She reached up and touched Red's head, like a silent prayer to Red and maybe to whoever sent him. One thing Alexa and I both knew with certainty: he wasn't a normal krait and he didn't adopt me by accident.

"I have General Guzman along as part of the team."

"Your wrecking ball just got a lot bigger. I'm surprised you haven't got Admiral Webb along." She gave a genuine smile, feeling better about my security.

"What a great idea. I'll call him tomorrow." We both laughed.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Star System: Truth Star – Demolition Act I

"Where to, Admiral?" Martz asked as we met eight strong in her conference room. Guzman, Martz, Pannell, Abbott, Banner, Stamm, Tamatha, and me.

"Ultimately, we are going to either Truth Star or Holy Star. We won't know until the next woman is kidnapped—"

"You're waiting for someone to be kidnapped?" Guzman asked incredulously, his face an undisguised mask of disgust.

"Sounds cruel and stupid, but we have no other way of discovering how they are transporting the women or where the indoctrination facility is located. None of the women know, because they are drugged for the entire trip. The only thing we have been able to deduce is that they have two facilities: one in Truth Star and one in Holy Star. We must therefore wait for the next kidnapping. It emphasizes what I've told you. It would take years to collect enough information to destroy their operation. Information collection is done at a snail's pace. They are not petty thieves who leave crumbs to follow. They are a very sophisticated criminal organization and while we must stay within the law, they don't." I looked at Guzman, who looked a bit embarrassed. "Given the space genie doesn't interfere, we should be able to save the woman, catch some bad people, and not only disrupt one of their significant functions—indoctrination—but also gain a better understanding of how they transport their victims."

"How often do they kidnap women?" Martz asked. I could understand her concern. We would have to park somewhere while we waited. The cruiser had a crew of over four hundred to consider.

"They have been running at just under three per month. I'd estimate best case, a day or two and worst case, a couple of weeks. I thought to go to Holy Star and wait." I paused while Martz called her XO and let him begin preparations to leave with a tentative location of Holy Star. "Tamatha, if we get bored, are there any interesting places on Holy Star?" I asked.

She nodded. "Prostitution is illegal on Holy Star, but there are two facilities. A low-end house in the run-down area of Sunny Heights, which is well-known but seldom raided, and a high-end escort service in Christown. That isn't raided, as it isn't visible, has good lawyers and connections, and can move faster than the police. That is where you might find a few of the women you are looking for."

* * *

I used the three-day trip to Holy Star to lay out a tentative plan of attack and to get us working as a team. When we exited the Wave, Banner queried the communications officer and collected my messages.

"Ma'am, you have two messages. One from Commander Cooper and a second from Commander Atkins," he said, looking at his tablet. "The one from Atkins is marked urgent."

"Decrypt and send to my tablet," I said, thankful we weren't going to have to sit idle waiting on the kidnapping ring to do something. When I looked at the messages, I smiled.

To: Commander Damon

Eastar NIA Station Chief

Copy to: Rear Admiral Paulus, UAS Cruiser Taranis

Director NIA Stations

Terry Blair was reported missing on 5/11/425 at two hundred hours. The kidnapping merchant Wind Jammer was in port at the time. The merchant's ship departed 5/10/425 at fifteen hundred hours.

From: Commander Atkins

Safe Harbor NIA Station Chief

I clicked on the voice channel Martz had given. She answered immediately, "Yes ma'am."

"We need to leave immediately for Truth Star. We have our missing woman," I said. Then I opened the second message.

To: Rear Admiral Paulus, Cruiser Taranis

Director NIA Stations

Susan Guzman is on Black Water at the estate of a Mr. Ferguson. Instructions?

From: Commander Cooper

Black Water NIA Station Chief

"Banner, let Commander Cooper know she should continue to monitor Susan Guzman's whereabouts."

* * *

"That was close," Martz said at my pre-docking meeting. "They must have had one day's head start, as the distances are roughly the same. We only beat them by eight hours, and then only because cruiser engines tend to be thirty to forty percent more powerful."

"General, are Colonel Russo's marines ready?" I asked. This was a critical part of the operation and the reason I was glad Guzman was along. Russo wouldn't question anything Guzman ordered or even suggested he do.

"Yes, he has twenty of his men and women dressed in civilian clothes and positioned at all the exit points. They have Miss Blair's picture and description and know she will be drugged and maybe disguised as sick, drunk, or otherwise incapacitated. They will notify us as soon as she's detected," Guzman said.

"Good. I've arranged to get Lieutenant Banner on the customs inspection team. I know they have Miss Terry Blair on board. If this is going to work, we need to understand how they transported her, how they get her planet side, and where they deliver her."

* * *

The hours dragged by without a word.

"Anything?" I asked Russo after I had assembled everyone.

"None of my people saw anything that looked even slightly suspicious. Our count indicates that all but five crew and the captain are still on board," Russo said. I looked to Banner.

"I followed the inspection team. They used equipment to detect drugs, checked the manifest, and asked general questions. Everything was in order. I took a tour of the dispensary. The area was empty. And I took a picture of the manifest." Banner handed me his tablet.

I scanned the items, feeling frustrated and not sure what I was looking for. "How are these items getting delivered?" I asked.

"I asked the same question. The Merry Dee has a staging warehouse. They contract with the Truth Star Port Authority to transport their cargo planet side where Merry Dee people truck it to their warehouse."

"Banner, get in touch with whoever is in charge of the station. I want to tour where they have the Merry Dee's consignment." If Miss Blair hadn't left the Merry Dee, she was either still on board or she had to be with the consignment headed planet side.

* * *

"I'm Director Mattson, the person in charge of the Truth Star Port Authority. I understand you want to inspect our staging area," a tall, elderly man said, giving me an appraising look. He wasn't impressed, judging by the small snort when he finished. I had intentionally worn a blue pantsuit rather than my navy uniform. Less confusing, I thought. "That is private property temporarily assigned to the Port Authority." He snorted again, but louder this time. "You'll need a court order to even look in our staging area. The military have no special authority in civil matters, or in this case, Truth Star's government operations."

Red took that moment to peek his red head out of my blouse. I'd swear it was to see the man's expression when he heard the bad news.

"Lady, do you have a medical certificate for that snake? Even if you do, it needs to be in a safe container." The man's emotions were a mixture of anger and the pleasure one gets exerting his or her power. I choked when a saw Red emerge completely, pulling the cord my P1A badge was attached to. Mattson stepped back, his eyes bulging with fear as he watched Red wind around my neck and then the P1A badge now hanging in clear sight.

"I won't be long, Mr. Mattson. I just want to see the Merry Dee shipment. And you are under P1A orders not to mention my inspection. You can make up any kind of an explanation for this meeting you want. In fact, you can say you told the idiot she wasn't authorized in the staging area," I said and smiled. He wasn't happy but keyed in the combination for the lock and then put his eye to the retina scan, and the door into the area unlocked. It was a huge warehouse with taped-off areas. Each area had a clipboard with paperwork attached depicting who the property belonged to, where it was headed, and a list of the items. I slipped under the yellow tape and surveyed the items. Seeing several large crates, I turned to Banner. "Go find the master chief and tell him I want an infrared detector."

"Why?" Mattson asked indignantly, his voice pitched in command mode.

"Because I want it." I pointed to my badge. "Mr. Mattson, they don't give out P1A badges for people to idly poke around for their amusement. Trust me, this is way beyond a Truth Star issue."

Several minutes later, Stamm came running in with Banner following. He stopped and held up a unit that looked to weigh several pounds and smiled.

"Master Chief, would you please scan everything in this area?"

"Yes, ma'am." He switched on the unit and began walking around pointing it at each item. He stopped in front of a long thin box, which had organ keyboards printed on the paperwork. And it did, however, sandwiched between the two keyboards was a body. Mattson gasped.

"I'll get people to open—"

"No, Mr. Mattson. You will do no such thing and you won't mention any of this to anyone. Just get it delivered as scheduled. Judging by the image, the young woman is alive and looks a healthy red, and the keyboard is supported by a frame around her. Just make sure it's handled carefully. Like the label says, it contains fragile electronic equipment, although they did fail to mention the frail young woman. Oh, don't change your inspection criteria based on what you saw. We don't want these people to know we have discovered their clever smuggling operation. Stonewall is a terrible place to retire," I said and Morrison's defiant look disappeared and his face went pale.

"No, ma'am. Not a word."

* * *

"Several marines followed the delivery to the Phillip Shipping Warehouse and two hours later, a car left. Per your instructions, we followed it to a large house on the outskirts of the city in an upscale area where the houses are each separated by several acres. My men observed two men carrying a woman inside," Russo said to the assembled group, which included Guzman and Martz.

"Gentlemen, I think it's time we crash the party. Colonel, have one group secure the warehouse while the other secures the house. Banner, go see the Commissioner and tell him what your boss is doing. I'll call you when we have an address. Captain, you are welcome to come along if you want."

She nodded and grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Martz let her XO know she was leaving. The drive took thirty minutes and three for the marines to storm and secure the house.

"The house is secure, Admiral," Russo said and waved for me to enter. The house was at least six or seven hundred square meters. A gunny sergeant led us down into a basement that had a room with no furniture or windows, just a cot on the floor and a pot to relieve yourself. Miss Blair lay on the cot, still unconscious. I looked to the man standing next to a marine corporal. He had a stethoscope around his neck.

"And what's your part in this nightmare?" I asked. He was in his early thirties and looked like a rabbit facing a pack of hungry wolves.

"I'm a doctor. I'm just here to check on the girl's health and treat her if necessary. She's fine," he said, pointing into the room. I gave her a shot to flush the drugs from her body. She should be conscious in three or four hours."

I looked up when two marines came down the stairs dragging a small man who looked defiant and to have resisted arrest.

"I demand a lawyer," he shouted, then stopped when he saw me. Red twisted around my neck and hissed in his direction.

"I recognize you," I said as I opened my tablet and tapped on a file named Kidnapping Ring. Then I flicked through some pictures until I found his. His image had been captured while transporting one of the missing women after a name change. Lucio, Tamatha had said, was the ring's sadistic psychopath who conducted the indoctrination. "Tell you what, Lucio, I'm going to give you three options. You can tell me everything you know about your organization, option one. Or, option two, you can keep quiet and go to Stonewall for the rest of your life. Under option one, you will get a lawyer and the benefit of all the protection under the law you ignore. Under option two, there is no lawyer, no judge and jury, no civilian prison. Oh, and the residents of Stonewall will know you were involved in sex trafficking, which will probably make you very popular."

"You can't do that," he protested.

I raised my badge. "Oh, but I can and I will. Option one." I held up one finger. "Or option two." I extended a second finger. "Sorry, there is no option three, as much as I'd like to shoot you."

Just then the commissioner arrived. "Hi, Anna; what have you found?" he asked, looking around. I showed him the woman on the cot and explained how we had deduced the kidnapping merchants and their two indoctrination locations. "The house, warehouse, Captain of the Merry Dee, and doctor are yours. I think the evil little man over there is probably going to skip all those bothersome lawyers, courts, and juries and go straight to Stonewall," I said. "I did offer him an option of staying with you, Commissioner Martinez."

"I'm entitled to a lawyer and a trial!" Lucio shouted.

"Colonel Pannell, if you would, see to Mr. Lucio's transportation to Stonewall for refusing to cooperate with a UAS agent with P1A authority," I said as I stepped closer to Lucio. "This is just like the options you give the women—although I admit I'm not providing the suicide option, but then I doubt that was ever a real option. Just like your option one to the women, it's that or option two is a given." I stared at Lucio as he struggled with his options. The problem he had was that if he talked, the kidnapping ring would be unlikely to fund his lawyers and provide support and maybe even arrange for him to be killed before his trial. If he didn't, he was going to Stonewall for life and knew he had no chance of a lawyer or getting free. "Option two it is, then. Colonel, take him away under the authority granted me by the UAS Committee."

* * *

"I want to search the Merry Dee; anyone want to come along?" I asked when we arrived back on the Taranis. I grinned when everyone, including Martz and Guzman, raised a hand. "Good—the more eyes the better. We're looking for information relating to their routes, rendezvous with other merchants, and information on the kidnapped women. Our working hypothesis is that someone on each system collects information on women who meet the kidnappers' profile. They pass the information in some form to the merchants we've identified, who pass it to other merchants going toward Shadows Rest." Seeing everyone nod, we left with Pannell and my security for the Merry Dee. I grabbed Abbott and with Martz following, we made our way to the Bridge. Abbott and Martz began with the main control system, whereas I went to the Comm station.

After four hours we called it quits. Abbott and Martz managed to find a file named Black Water and another named Truth Star. They were both password locked. I found communications with a company called Active Media.

* * *

"You want to do what?" Commissioner Martinez asked in astonishment.

"First to search Active Media, then accompany your police to raid the registered and unregistered brothels and the two escort services Tamatha has identified," I repeated to a stunned Martinez.

"The brothels are registered and are reviewed every year to maintain their licenses. Therefore you aren't going to find anything," he protested.

"I'm really not interested in their government documentation. I want to see each woman who works for them and to conduct my own search to make sure they don't have a second set of books."

"You have the authority and I'll fully support you. I just don't want to see you hurt in the process," Martinez said, then shrugged when I nodded. "Who's first?"

"Active Media," I said. Martinez decided to come along. He sent four policemen, two of whom were women, and Pannell had six marines. When we entered the small but well-equipped suite of offices, the four police and four marines spread out to ensure nothing was destroyed or otherwise tampered with. The commissioner and I went to the CEO's office without stopping to talk with the receptionist or the CEO's secretary.

When I opened the door, a thirtysomething man stood and glared at me. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?"

"Thank you for asking. I'm Anna Paulus, an agent of the UAS with P1A authority," I said but paused as Red chose to appear with his head on my shoulder. "And my friend is called Red. Since you're being direct, let me precipitate. I'd like a copy of the file you sent early today to the Merry Dee and the password to unlock it. Before you answer, let me remind you that refusing someone with P1A authority can—and will—result in immediate lifetime accommodations at Stonewall." I waved my P1A placard so he could see it. The man lost his angry look, turned pale, sputtered several times in an attempt to respond, and sat. I waited, letting him consider his position.

When he finally spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. "My client pays me to take pictures of women meeting his criteria and to provide a general background investigation. As far as I know, there is no law against doing that, although most people wouldn't like it done to them. I have no idea what they do with the information. I assumed they are vetting them for a job of some kind."

"You are correct in your assumption. The password, please." I thought the please was a nice touch, as I would have liked to have Pannell break his arms and legs.

"t_r_u_t_h_s_t_a_r_425," he said, sweat beginning to form on his forehead.

"And the kidnapping. Did you think that aggressive recruiting?" I asked.

"We never—"

"Careful." I held up my hand, interrupting. With lawyers and a jury, you may do much better than Stonewall and no lawyers, juries, appeals…" I said. He nodded. I turned him over to the commissioner's people.

We spent the next two days at the registered brothels. There I found two of the missing women and took them into custody and back to the Taranis.

"You have to let us go. They will think we ran away. If so they will kidnap our sisters and kill our brothers," Agnes Santos said, wringing her hands as she paced the room, unable to sit.

"Agnes, this gentleman is General Guzman, Chief of the Army and Marine forces. If you give him the names of your family members and where they live, he will guarantee their safety. Talk to Tamatha. You will have the option of joining you family or staying on this ship until it's safe for you to leave. The accounts you have are safe, so you will have choices afterward."

* * *

"What now?" Martz asked after a quiet dinner in her dining room. "I think you have the kidnappers' attention. You rang their bell so hard they must feel like tuning forks."

"I wouldn't want them to forget me, so let's go to Black Water. It's only three days' travel, and I can look for a bigger hammer and another bell to ring."

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Star System: Black Water – Demolition Act II

"What's on Black Water?" Guzman asked.

"According to my latest information, Susan Guzman," I said. He sat stunned, his eyes misty. We were alone by design. I had told everyone except Guzman my staff meeting would be delayed, and that Banner would notify them when the conference room would be available.

"You know where she is?" A hint of anger flashed across his face, but he refrained from saying anything.

"I know you think you know what Susan has been going through and you intend to help her recover. If you want some advice from someone who has been were your daughter has—don't. Think of your daughter as a returning soldier from a very bad engagement."

"What do you mean?" He glared at me.

"Like soldiers returning from war, they don't want to talk about it. It will be the same for these women. It's their story and no one has a right to it. If you try to question her about it or try to indicate you know how she feels or what she should do next, you will drive her away. Someday she may tell you part of what happened, but I doubt she will ever tell you or anyone the entire story. Just let her know by your actions you are there if she needs you. The second night after I was released from the hospital, I crawled into bed with my mother. She didn't ask me anything or give me soothing words. She pulled the covers up around me and pulled me close. Without saying anything, she made me feel safe. And that was exactly what I needed, not meaningless words."

Guzman sat there for a long time before speaking. "Thank you."

* * *

"What can I do for you, Anna?" Commissioner Bailey asked after he had coffee served for Commander Cooper and me.

"I had thought to slowly acquire enough information to dismantle the kidnapping ring. I've concluded it could take years. And while I collect the information necessary to destroy them, hundreds of women will suffer. So instead of announcing, 'This is the police! Drop your gun,' I'm going to shoot first and find out later if they had a gun."

Bailey roared with laughter but quickly sobered. "That could be dangerous for you. Many will not like that approach."

"I will lose less sleep worrying about that than the missing women." I winked. "For the next couple of days, I intend to crash your suspected brothels and visit the businessmen my three rescued women know use the kidnapping ring, looking for the missing women. Would you like to come along?"

"Sounds interesting; I'd love to join you."

I spent the next several hours working with the police unit concerned with vice. It was interesting. They suspected several groups of prostitution but were restricted by the current laws from any aggressive search actions. I wasn't.

* * *

"Mr. Ferguson is busy. I'd suggest you contact his secretary for an appointment," said a middle-aged man in the typical black suit of a butler.

"I'd suggest Mr. Ferguson come talk to me or I'll be forced to send in a squad of marines to fetch him." I nodded over my shoulder, where my security stood as well as another eight marines Guzman assigned to accompany me today. The butler must have decided I looked serious, since he invited me and my security into a large room to wait while he informed Mr. Ferguson of my presence. Five minutes later, a short man with receding brown hair, a chubby face, and thirty kilograms overweight came walking into the room. He wore a white silk shirt, gray slacks, and black shoes. He gave me a condescending look.

"Commissioner, what is the meaning of this barbaric interruption? And who is this girl?" He waved dismissively in my direction. Red hissed in reply.

"Mr. Ferguson, you're ordered to produce any women you have on the premises under my P1A authority." I held up my placard face high. "Or Colonel Pannell will immediately take you into custody and you will subsequently be delivered to Stonewall, where you will stay for the rest of your life. You have sixty seconds to comply." I opened my tablet and clicked on my stopwatch, placing it on the closest table facing Ferguson.

"I want my lawyer!" he said and produced a defiant smile.

"Forty-nine seconds."

"I'll have you and these men court-martialed."

"Forty-one seconds."

"Commissioner!" he demanded in a harsh tone.

"The girl is an UAS agent with P1A authority." Bailey just shrugged, barely able to suppress a grin. "Way above my pay grade."

"Thirty seconds," I announced, watching Pannell pointing to Sergeant Plaite, who immediately pointed to two of his men.

"I'm a member of the Black Water senate!" he shouted.

"And a citizen of the UAS and subject to its laws. Right now, the only crime you are being considered for is refusing to comply with an order from an agent of the UAS. Twenty-one seconds," I said, wondering if he was stupid enough to refuse to comply. Paying for sex hardly seemed more than a slight embarrassment, and the fine for a man of his wealth was little more than pocket change. Unless something else I didn't understand was going on… I looked down at my tablet. "Nine…eight…sev—"

"All right. Gerald, have all the women assemble here," he said and sat. His face was red with rage but his eyes registered fear.

"Colonel Pannell, please have some of your troops help Gerald round up the women. Wouldn't want any women to go missing," I said, knowing something wasn't right. Red agreed—or he just didn't like the man—as he hissed softly, his head pointing in Ferguson's direction. Pannell actually smiled as he nodded to Sergeant Plaite, who followed Gerald with four marines.

The room was silent as we waited. I hoped Susan was still here, since my information was several days old. Five minutes later, the women began coming in. First was a pudgy middle-aged woman and a slim young girl. They were dressed in white, wearing aprons, and their hair was covered with wraps. They looked like kitchen help. A couple of minutes later, four women in their twenties wandered in wearing short black dresses with low-cut blouses. They looked like maids or general help despite the sexy outfits. For Ferguson's amusement, I assumed. Ten minutes later, Sergeant Plaite returned and motioned to Pannell and me.

"Ma'am, I found four women. I've put them in the room down the hall…" He jerked his head back in the direction behind him. He looked pale and angry.

When I entered the room, I understood why. Two of the women had sheets around them. I walked over to them and gently opened each woman's sheet. They were naked and covered with bruises, black and blue marks, burns, and their backs a mess a welts and cuts made from a whip of some kind. I barely kept from gagging. I recognized Susan Guzman. She was dressed in a flimsy see-through negligee and bruises were visible on her arms and legs. The fourth girl was younger and her face black and blue from a recent beating.

"Sergeant, go get Commissioner Bailey."

"You can't free Clare and me," Susan said, and I could feel her fear of the threats to her and her family and resignation that she had to stay to protect them. When Bailey entered, I showed him the women.

"There has got to be a civilian crime here. I'd like to send him to Stonewall but can't since he did comply. I'd be glad to come back and testify," I said, watching Bailey's horror and disgust.

"I'll file charges and make sure it's widely publicized." He produced an evil grin. "For an important man like Ferguson, the consequences of that may be worse than prison."

I kept Susan and Clare. The commissioner left with the other two girls.

"Paul, leave me for a minute." He nodded and left with the male marines but left the two women marines.

"I understand why you think you need to stay and why you are somewhat reluctant to see your families–"

"No, you don't!" Susan shouted.

"Sit!" I pointed to the couch. "I have a story to tell…" An hour later, I had explained my ordeal and the protection they and their families would be getting while I destroyed the kidnapping ring. "If I can survive, so can you. You're brave women, and what happened to you and me wasn't our faults. Don't take the blame or let anyone give you any shit. Susan, I talked to your father—"

She laughed. "Bet that was interesting."

"I think it will help. I compared you to a soldier returning from a bad war."

She laughed again. "That he may understand. I love him but he's a man's man."

* * *

"I wasn't fond of the idea of keeping the missing women on board the Taranis, but Doctor Renata tells me it has been very therapeutic for the women. It's their own grief counseling group, and the marines are conducting self-defense classes for them, which also appears therapeutic," Martz said to start my staff meeting the next morning.

"I should join that class. I'm probably going to upset a lot of people," I said, mostly as a note to myself. I heard several chokes and side comments.

"Where to now?" Martz asked. "You should call this Project Wrecking Ball."

"Abbott, did you look at those locked files you found?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am. The password you gave me worked when I substituted the system's name." He stopped to fiddle with his tablet. After a minute, the monitors in the conference room lit with pictures and then five vids one after another, and finally several pages of statistics on each woman. "I suspect they feed this information into a database they can use to search, retrieve, and compare data."

"Just like a regular business," Martz observed. "Each system prepares a catalog of its products and sends it to their client, who reviews the catalog and orders the products they like. The system then packages the product and sends it to the client, who puts it in service." She put her hands to her face. "That's an image I'm going to have trouble forgetting."

"Banner, any messages from the NIA stations?"

"Yes, ma'am, a message from Stone Ring. A woman fitting the Magic Act criteria named Cecelia Moore went missing thirty-six hours ago. The Dolphin Two left eight hours prior to the woman being reported missing."

"That's your answer, Captain. Holy Star," I said. "We are about to shut down their only other indoctrination site."

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Star System: Undisclosed – Rage

"That little snake bitch is destroying our operation using her P1A authority," Micah said, looking at his message board. "Shit. They are even pressing charges against Ferguson. Our special clients aren't going to like that. I'm already seeing a slow down in demand from them."

"I hear she sent Lucio to Stonewall," Vito said. "Stonewall is bad, but if the inmates hear he was involved in sex trafficking…" He shuddered.

"Vito, you know all the thugs on Shadows Rest and probably the nearby systems. Anyone good enough that we could interest to replace Jamar," Tashia asked. "Paulus needs killing."

"They will just appoint another person to replace her and give him P1A authority," Silas said.

"I don't think so. The UAS may not like us kidnapping women, but they might be a little concerned the way Paulus is using her authority against prominent people."

"I know someone on Oasis. If the rumors are correct, he is well connected throughout the UAS and ruthless," Vito said.

"Get me a meeting," Tashia said.

* * *

Three days later, two shuttles landed on an abandoned landing pad on Westar.

"Good day, Tashia," Andrii said, eyeing the tall, black-haired woman dressed all in black and who moved like a shadow. He was dressed casually in black dress pants and a red silk shirt open at the neck, which partially displayed a large tattoo that looked like a skeleton holding a scythe and riding a pale horse—one of the four horsemen, death.

"Good day, Andrii," Tashia said as the two appraised each other. "I understand your roots go back to the Russian Mafia."

"My family's descendants have a colorful history passed from father to son and sometimes from mother to daughter. Our women can be as tough as the men. Something a Kaliam sister can appreciate."

"Yes." Tashia bowed in acknowledgment. "My organization is under attack, and I'm in need of…a fixer."

"What is a fixer worth?" Andrii asked.

"Depends. One time could be half a million credits with a potential two hundred fifty thousand bonus. As a partner, ten percent," Tashia said as she considered the merits of having a mafia-like group available for support.

"With you in charge?" Andrii asked, his eyes challenging Tashia.

"With the strongest person directing each organization," Tashia countered.

"Who's the problem?" Andrii asked, smiling as if he already knew.

"An NIA admiral," Tashia said.

Andrii laughed. "You make it sound like some overweight can't-shoot ready-to-retire man whereas it's the little woman with the red-headed krait who can shoot as good as the marine security team that protects her twenty-four-seven."

"If it were easy, I wouldn't be offering a half million and a partnership," Tashia said. "The partnership offers some additional benefits, like running the indoctrination program."

"That's certainly an incentive." Andrii paused, meeting Tashia's eyes. Neither flinched. "I'll take the cash deal for now. We can discuss a partnership arrangement afterward."

Tashia stuck out both hands; one held a small knife, the other was bleeding from a small cut across the palm. Andrii stared for a minute, then took the knife, cut his palm, and grasped Tashia's bloody hand.

"My kind of contract." Andrii smiled.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Star System: Holy Star – The Demolition Continues

Holy Star turned out to be a mirror image of Truth Star. In this case, the Taranis beat the Dolphin Two by a half day and we found Denise Dutton stuffed in with an office lounge. Other than that, the scenario went much the same: the lounge was delivered to a shipping company, Denise was removed and transported to a large house in a sparsely populated area, but this time only a doctor was present. He was quick to talk but claimed to know very little. He was called to give the women an initial physical when they arrived, and after that, only when they were hurt or fell sick. He was probably mostly truthful but had to know something illegal was going on.

Like on many of the systems, prostitution was illegal but considered a minor crime, and it was policed only to the extent that it kept it isolated to certain areas and to limit its growth. Men were seldom prosecuted or even arrested; the women were arrested, fined, and released.

I reviewed the arrest records and found only one name that was in our database, but with the collective knowledge of the women we had on board, we were able to locate a second woman at a high-end escort service, which the police either weren't aware of or were told to ignore because of the people involved. Since our database didn't have every missing person's alias or legal name change, I insisted on seeing each woman, including the women currently traveling with their clients.

"You are mistaken; there is no escort here," said the silver-haired man in his sixties who was the CEO of one of Holy Star's major shuttle manufacturing companies when he arrived with his two security guards. "If you persist in this matter, your career is over. I have many friends in the UAS Council—" he gave me a wide-eye look when I cut him off with a laugh.

"Has your money and position made you stupid, Mr. Goldman?" I asked but continued before he could reply. "If you refuse to comply with my P1A request, Colonel Pannell will take you into custody and you will be on a UAS Cruiser headed for Stonewall. The UAS Council can't convene an inquiry until their project is over. That could take years, and the chances of your success are very poor because of the nature of P1A authority. The best result you could hope for is that I will also spend the rest of my life in Stonewall. On the other hand, if you comply, you stand a much better chance of eventually seeing me punished for having the nerve to do my best to serve my nation—and at most, you might be embarrassed."

Goldman stared at me for a long time, his emotions going from rage to anger and finally resignation. "Felix, ask Miss Jacquelyn to join us."

When she arrived, she was first to speak. "I'm here of my own free will."

"Miss Lambert—"

"How…" she began then took a minute to calm herself. "Unless I'm under arrest for something, I don't wish to go with you."

"There, are you satisfied?" Goldman said loudly.

"Yes, Mr. Goldman. I'm very satisfied. Miss Jacquelyn will be allowed to return after she has been processed." I took Lambert by the arm and guided her down the hallway and out to the waiting shuttles.

"You don't understand; I'll be back here in a few hours and he'll get even. He's a very powerful man."

"I'm afraid I understand all too well. He's rich and feels above the law. His thoughts are only concerned with his wants and desires, one of which will be to have me punished for interfering with his pleasure. The criminals who kidnapped you are going to have another reason to want me dead. And I'll sleep well tonight knowing I upset them both," I said, pleased with the day's results. Pannell snorted.

* * *

"How are you doing, General Guzman?" I asked as he sat. I had invited him to my office on the Taranis.

"Arnold, please. Thank you for your advice. You were right, and having her back is all I care about anyway. I understand now why the women appear to want to remain…with the kidnappers. They are very strong women suffering for the ones they love. I was out of my mind over Susan's kidnapping… Sorry, Anna."

"I understood. Without you providing security for these women's families, freeing them would have caused more problems than it solved. Although I won't be surprised if one or two of these women might not choose to go back to the life—"

"What! Back to being a prostitute," he bellowed.

"Yes. You haven't seen their bank accounts. Most have a tidy sum, and several are wealthy. But what may drive some back is the reaction of their families, friends, and neighbors. Too many will not consider them victims but as damaged property. In that event, they may consider that they have nothing to lose and much to gain. Others, I suspect, will just move without letting anyone know where."

"I hadn't thought about that consequence, but knowing people and my own inclination, I can see that as a tragic result. As for myself, I'll love and support Susan no matter what she decides."

* * *

I had everyone assembled, including the freed women. "Who should we aggravate next?" I asked as everyone settled in and had collected something from the breakfast I had ordered.

"The merchants are their lifeline," Martz said. "And if you free many more women, we'll need at least another cruiser unless we drop some of the current passengers off to their parents." Martz stopped short, noticing the less-than-positive response to her last suggestion. I also noticed Arnold's quiet nod acknowledging my comments to him.

I snorted a laugh. Recovering these women had lightened my previous funk. "Lieutenant Banner, send a priority message to Admiral Webb and copy Vice Admiral Lulltrel," I said, and all heads turned to me and the room became so quiet I could hear individuals breathing.

"Sir, I could use another cruiser if you have one not currently busy. We have freed fifteen women to date and have seventy or so to go. Dropping the freed women off would delay me freeing more and would deprive me of critical information these women have on each system. And to be honest, they aren't ready to leave the support of their companions."

I paused. "Banner, send it from Rear Admiral Paulus. No titles."

"Admiral Paulus, I can't wait to see that reply," one of the women shouted to assorted comments.

"All right, Captain Martz is correct. Where are the Benjamin and the Lucky Lady?" I asked.

"The Benjamin is in Oxax and the Lucky Lady is in Amend," Banner said, looking at the latest update Hadley had sent just yesterday.

"Captain Martz, I think Oxax. The Benjamin and the Lucky Lady are the only two that go to Shadows Rest. Therefore, they are the ones that deliver the catalog. Without the catalog, they can't order new women in case they have an alternative indoctrination site. Besides, I'll bet the women here can suggest some interesting places to visit," I said to cheers and clapping.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Star System: Oxax – A New Complication

I asked permission to join the missing women's evening meeting and received a cautious approval. After everyone was seated, the room became quiet and all eyes were focused on me. Although I was a woman, I was also part of the government and an unknown factor—even though I was leading the search for the kidnapped women and had freed those in attendance.

"I am a rape victim," I began without preamble. "While on the Hijacking Project, I was kidnapped and…" I went on to talk about my ordeal on the Shark Cruiser and about my life after I was rescued. The session lasted until the early hours of the morning. I left feeling drained from all the very personal questions but good that my experience may help the women to cope with what was to come in the days, weeks, and months ahead.

* * *

"You have no authority to search my ship. I've called my lawyers. Your career is over…" the captain, a Peter Bressley, ranted as two squads of the Taranis's marines secured the Benjamin.

"I'll give you the same two options I gave the captain of the Merry Dee and the Dolphin Two." I smiled mentally, watching his recognition of his partners in supporting the kidnapping ring. "Option one, cooperate and tell me everything you know about the kidnapping operation and you get to talk to lawyers, get a hearing before a jury, and get to do time in a civilian prison—or option two, skip all your basic legal rights and go Stonewall for the rest of your life." I held up my P1A placard. His scarlet-ridged face sagged and lost color as he began to tremble. If he thought I or anyone with me felt sorry for him, he was stuck in the wrong universe. When he began talking, it was like a tidal wave of information that was almost overwhelming. His contacts on Shadows Rest were a man named Silas and a Vito, who was a sergeant in the police. He even had the software program that the kidnapping ring used to view the candidates.

* * *

After finishing with the captain and crew of the Benjamin, the women provided the locations of two brothels and two high-end escort services. The brothels turned up two women who were long-term addicts abducted in the kidnapping ring's first two years of operation. I turned them over to Doctor Summers, the chief doctor on the Taranis.

Trophy Escorts was the first business I visited. The owner of record was a matronly woman in her mid-fifties with a good figure; she wore an expensive pink pantsuit and had curly brown hair that hung just short of her shoulders. She was the model of cooperation and had all her women and several men report to her office.

"All my employees are free to come and go at will. Our contract merely covers the rules of their employment," she informed me with another grandmotherly smile. I recognized Lola Lloyd, who was going by the name Lisa James. Like all the other missing women, she protested that she was here of her own free will. And like all the other missing women, I told her she could return after the interview. It was only a partial lie. She would be free to do as she liked when the protective custody ended.

The second escort service, Heavenly Escorts, was run by an obnoxious young woman named Tijerina, who called her lawyer when I identified another of the missing women. Pannell, Miss Pain-in-the-Ass Tijerina, the kidnapped woman named Adella Vu, and I sat in a plush conference room waiting for their lawyer that I agreed to talk to. I was not sure why I had agreed to wait, maybe hoping to learn more about the kidnapping ring's operation. We were served coffee as we waited. Ten minutes later Tijerina's tablet rang; she looked at it, got up, and excused herself. I jerked out of a daze when Red's head banged into my nose, his tongue flicking inside, and he hissed. Then his fangs struck my nose. I jolted up, more from shock than the pain, although it did sting. Seconds later, I realized he had injected me with poison, as the feeling of hot lava filled my face and jerked me awake. I scanned the room. Pannell and the two security marines in the room were leaning back against the wall, fighting unsuccessfully to keep their eyes open. Then the sound of Mfw fire erupted from the two guards in the hallway. One fell to his knees, and Miss Tijerina appeared from behind a partition with a laser pointing in their direction. I spun, drawing my Mfw, and shot a burst of pellets through the glass partition enclosing the room and separating the it from the hallway. It was thick safety glass and looked like falling rain as the small pieces streamed down to the floor. With the glass gone, the sound of multiple Mfws could be heard coming from down the hallway, and the second marine was thrown backward as two men came into view. I shot the closest one in the head. He spun into the man beside him, throwing him off balance, and turning him toward me. I shot him in the face. Although I was taught by Chief Ransom to shoot chest, then head, I had to assume these men were wearing protective armor. While a head shot was more difficult and therefore less reliable, the men were close, and a head shot gave them no time to return fire. As the second shooter stumbled backward into an open cubicle, the area became quiet. I went to one knee for stability, as I was feeling a bit groggy and thinking I would be a harder target to acquire for someone popping around the corner and scanning for a shooter. Several minutes passed and nothing happened. Pannell and the two marines were on the floor with their heads either to their chests or lying on the floor.

"You really are a hard little bitch to kill," a male voice shouted. I've been paid to kill you, but I think it will be more fun and impressive if I put you on display in a cage for the exclusive pleasure of Andrii Popov. If you don't cooperate, I can always drug you into submission. And when I tire of you, my lieutenants can have you, then their men, then we can rent you out." He laughed. Not a forced laugh for show, but a real laugh of anticipation. "I'll wager Tashia would pay plenty to have you to play with for a week or two." More laughing, which sounded like it was coming from several men not more than a meter or two into the hallway. My blood felt like ice running through my veins as my mind unwillingly flashed back to my ordeal on the Shark. Then I grinned remembering the four horsemen. Like those idiots, these didn't seem to realize I had the Coaca Virus. Andrii's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Sorry; killing yourself isn't an option." Just then, a canister came flying into the room and three seconds later, gas came hissing out.

I fished out my gas mask. We had all begun carrying one after my security team and I had been gassed during a successful attempt to kidnap me out of an elevator in Westar. Knowing one or more of the attackers would soon be coming to look, I grabbed one of the unconscious marine's Mfws and pulled it closer to me but left it just out of my reach. Then I lay face down on my Mfw with one hand on the trigger. Since he apparently wanted me alive, lying face down made me totally vulnerable but hid my gas mask. It also made me look helpless and no threat with the Mfw lying just out of my reach. I hoped that would give me the element of surprise and the few seconds' advantage I would need to survive. My only concern, although I had no option, was that they would shoot the defenseless marines before I could spring my surprise.

I couldn't see them, but I could hear them as their boots crunched over the broken pieces of glass.

"Three marines and the navy bitch are out cold, boss," said the gravelly voice of an older man.

"See, Petra, I told you it was easy money. Gorya, bring her to our truck," Andrii's voice said. He was the one who had boasted about capturing me and who was clearly in charge. His voice rang with confidence and authority.

"What about the marines?" asked the gravelly voice again. I shuddered at the thought and prepared to move if necessary. I couldn't let them murder defenseless marines while I lived even if I had to act prematurely.

"Leave them. No sense giving the marines a personal reason to go looking for us. They will understand firefight deaths but not murdering helpless marines. Gorya, turn over sleeping beauty; I want to see my prize whore." The voice had barely finished when hands grabbed my hip and shoulder and rolled me on my back. My short blast of shards caught the man in the chest, and he flew up and backward. The two men standing near my feet watching me had barely gotten their hands on their Mfws when several bursts of shards obliterated their smiling faces. Andrii managed to dive into the maze of cubicles as I shot a burst of shards that cut through the partition where he had been standing. A younger man standing just short of the hallway was frantically trying to get his rifle's strap over his head as pellets tore from his right hip to his left shoulder, pinning him to the wall for a long moment before he slid to the floor. I crawled to my left, away from the unconscious marines. I didn't want them shot by stray bullets. Silence.

"That was a cute trick, navy bitch. I guess now I'm going to have to kill you. Too bad."

"I'm more likely to die of boredom. Or from the smell of you pissing in your pants," I taunted. I hoped he didn't have more men roaming the building, and that one of the marines pressed his panic button when the firefight began and more marines were on the way. But in case they weren't, I wanted him in a rage and careless. My taunt earned me a blast of shards, which shattered cloth and plastic from several chairs to my right, nearer to where I had been. I saw him raise up to shoot but under the table with chairs in the way; I didn't have a good line of sight.

"How did a coward like you become their leader? Did you shoot all the real men while they were drugged and sleeping?" I shouted, wanting to cross my fingers that help was coming. I had only one spare magazine on me and that wouldn't last through a prolonged duel with so many places to hide. Another blast of shards raked the walls, chairs, and conference table. "Your mother would be disappointed if she could see you hiding from a small girl."

"My mother knew her place like you will before I leave. My father saw to that."

"That explains it. The defective seed fell right next to the tree. You come from a long line of cowards," I shouted, which earned me another burst of pellets. Then I heard the sound of a new mag being loaded. "You must be waiting for me to go to sleep so you can muster the nerve to shoot me." I laughed as another burst of pellets tore through the room. I guess he brought extra mags, I mused and vowed I would carry extra in the future if…

Suddenly Andrii appeared in the hallway, holding Tijerina in front of him. He held a laser to her head and his Mfw in his other hand, in the arm that he had under her arm, keeping her pinned to his chest. If you don't come out, I'm going to murder your sleeping marine friends," he said and fired off a short blast into the wall above their heads.

I rose and saw one eye peeking out from behind Tijerina's head and a smile at the corner of his mouth. I hoped he planned on trying to talk me into submission rather than killing me, since he now thought he had the advantage. Well, he did, but not in the way he thought—I wouldn't believe a word he promised.

"Drop the gun and you, the soldier boys, and Tijerina will live," he said, looking as convincing as a slobbering rabid animal looked like it wanted to be petted.

His smile broadened as I raised the barrel of my Mfw so it pointed almost head high. He had a right to smile, since he knew what little of his head showed would be an impossible shot to hit, even if I could raise my weapon and take careful aim. I squeezed the trigger once. The shot was off target a few centimeters and ripped through Tijerina's throat to the right of her vertebrae and through Andrii's cheek. He screamed as he stumbled back while trying to keep a screaming and jerking woman in front of him. Blood spurted from the artery the pellet had severed in Tijerina's neck. I adjusted my aim and fired again. This time through Tijerina's lower jaw. Bone must have deflected the pellet, as Andrii spun away, his mouth open and the left side mangled. I shot again as he crashed into the wall. He spun and tried to run. This time, his face exploded as several pellets hit him in the back of his head and exited the front.

I cried as I walked back to the two marines who lay in the hallway. Two more dead marines because of me, I mumbled as I bent down and pressed the panic icon of the dead marine's Comm device. Then I heard a moan and realized his partner was still alive. I immediately got to work, stopping the bleeding from the wounds I could find. As I worked, Red worked his way from my back to my neck and settled on my shoulder.

* * *

After she had given me a thorough physical, Doctor Renata injected me with something that had my eyes closing before the plunger was fully depressed. The last thing I heard was Renata's gentle laugh and, "Good night, Anna."

When I woke, Renata and Pannell were talking at the foot of my bed. "That was sneaky," I said as I sat up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Renata said. "My inspection concluded you had little damage, some bruises, minor cuts probably from flying debris, and exhaustion from partying with the wrong men."

"Everyone else was sleeping," I quipped.

"And why weren't you?" Pannell asked, his eyes holding mine.

"Red didn't like the quality of the air." I shrugged. "In an effort to appease him, I blew out the conference room glass partition, which improved the quality of the air." When I saw Martz enter the room, I smiled. "Shadows Rest. We might know enough to find the hive with Commissioner Matheny's help."

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Star System: Shadows Rest – The Den of Thieves

Banner rushed into the room, smiling ear to ear. "Ma'am, Captain Mendoza from the UAS Cruiser Teutates is requesting a conference call with you and Captain Martz. Channel five," he said.

I opened my tablet set it to five, and the face of a thin, curly redheaded captain appeared on the screen.

"Good morning, Admiral Paulus. I'm Captain Krystal Mendoza commanding the UAS Teutates. Admiral Webb sends his regards along with the Teutates, which is at your disposal." She smiled at my open-mouthed look. I had hoped for another ship, but I didn't expect another heavy cruiser and nothing without more justification. "Admiral Webb said he, Vice Admiral Lulltrel, and the UAS were pleased—well, everyone who counted, anyway." She laughed.

"Can we have a quick face-to-face before we leave for Shadows Rest?"

"You're the boss," Mendoza said and cut the connection.

* * *

I explained to Mendoza about the project, what we had deduced so far, and what we had been doing. Then I had all the kidnapped women we had freed brought into the conference room.

"Ladies, the Taranis is getting crowded, and as we hit the other systems, we are going to run out of room. Admiral Webb has been kind enough to provide us with a second cruiser. I'd like you to come up with a solution," I said to stunned silence. Then Susan Guzman spoke. "Can we have an hour to discuss it?"

I nodded and Mendoza, Martz, and I retired to my office.

"How are they doing, Admiral?" Mendoza asked when we had each collected something to drink.

Martz looked to me and I nodded. "The decision to keep them on the cruiser rather than send them home has worked miracles. They've formed their own counseling group, convinced the marines to conduct self-defense classes, and Admiral Paulus has managed to keep their focus on their future. I'm amazed. I'd expected them all to be in the dispensary or spending all day locked in their cabins."

"I assume you'd like that to continue, Admiral?"

"Anna, please, in private—and yes. Don't assign them single rooms. The nights will be a problem for years."

"Sounds like you understand, Anna," Mendoza said.

"I do and won't be surprised if the women on your ship invite me over from time to time when we are in port," I said, thinking about the sessions we had over the weeks.

We were interrupted less than an hour later. The women had not only split the group, they had decided who would be in each group, which group would be on which cruiser, and how the new women would be assigned to each ship.

* * *

"Do you expect another assassination attempt in Shadows Rest?" Pannell asked as we prepared to enter the shuttle to planet side.

"I hope not, Paul. Red and I are tired. And I'd like to be able to send my mother a message where I can honestly tell her I'm bored and can't wait to get home. Rather than my more normal message, We had a little trouble but I'm all right."

"A little trouble!" he exclaimed incredulously. If you are going to twist the truth that flagrantly, you might as well tell her the trip is boring."

"You're upset because you slept through the party." I tried to look sad, which wasn't hard when I thought of the marine who died. Pannell just shook his head.

Banner leaned over from the seat behind Pannell and me. "Ma'am, Commissioner Matheny is available as soon as you can make it."

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me so quickly, Commissioner Matheny," I said as I entered his office with Pannell.

"You're the talk of the police commissioners across the UAS…and some very prominent people. The commissioners are jealous how easy it is when you have P1A authority. The prominent people are outraged at your disregard for the law." He laughed. "I imagine the UAS Council is inundated with complaints. But never mind. What do you have planned for Shadows Rest?"

I took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Matheny. It read: Can you get sergeant Vito in here without raising his suspicion? While he read, I continued talking.

"Pretty much the same as on the other systems: visit the brothels and probably aggravate more prominent people."

"I know you don't need police help, but would you like me to send someone along?"

"Thank you; that would be helpful. The women we've freed know some of the brothels and escort services, but I'm sure your people have more up-to-date information."

Matheny clicked on his comm device and waited. "MaryAnn, would you find Sergeant Vito and let him know I'd like to see him? Thanks," he said and cut the connection, giving me a curious look. I nodded. We waited in silence. Several minutes later, a middle-aged man of average height, a muscular build, and with a square face entered, looked eager but felt apprehensive.

"Sir, MaryAnn said you wanted to see me," he said as he closed the door, giving Pannell a nervous look.

"You know who I am and all about the Magic Act project, Sergeant Vito, so I'll cut right to your options—"

"I don't know what you are talking—"

"Option one is very generous and allows you a lawyer, to be tried in a civilian court with a judge and jury, and a chance of being acquitted—or worst case, imprisoned in a prison on Shadows Rest. All you have to do is tell me everything you know about the kidnapping operation."

"I don't know anything about the kidnapping operation except what I see in the news and the rumors I hear."

"Option two, which you appear to be selecting, will have you on a UAS cruiser today headed for Stonewall with life accommodations. No lawyers, no judges or juries, and no appeals. When the inmates ask you your crime, I won't mention you worked for the police or you were involved in sex trafficking. Of course, as a policeman, you know how hard it is to keep those sorts of things private. Here, on the other hand, the commissioner would have better control…" I didn't finish, letting Vito sort through the pros and cons of his situation.

"But I don't know anything," he whined, looking like a trapped animal.

"Colonel Pannell, Sergeant Vito has selected option two. Since he is now in your custody, option three, suicide, is no longer available."

"Commissioner, I'll wager if you have your office swept for electronic surveillance devices and trace them, you would find Sergeant Vito has been following your activities closely," I said. I really didn't know, but I would be astonished if his office wasn't bugged.

* * *

Commissioner Matheny did find two listening devices and a recording device in Vito's desk. Afterward, Vito decided option one was a better option than two, only because with P1A authority the entire group would be swept up without an opportunity to put out a contract on him. Besides, Vito had the most to lose. While sex traffickers were not treated well in prison, ex-police were treated worse.

"There are currently seven of us running the operation. We meet three times a week. Tonight is one of our regular meeting nights," Vito said after an hour describing how the organization was structured and operated. Vito decided, at my suggestion, to attend the meeting and be arrested just like the others. The missing women knew most of their names, and with that information, the commissioner had deduced their meeting place.

* * *

We arrived fifty strong at twenty hundred hours. Commissioner Mendoza had brought twenty policemen and Pannell three squads of ten—my security team plus twenty marines from the two cruisers—just in case the group was prepared. To our surprise, we found the building a blazing inferno. People were standing around in small groups with drinks in their hands talking, pointing, and laughing like it was a sporting event or neighborhood party.

"Vito probably double-crossed us and they decided to destroy any evidence and fled," Mendoza said. "They have nothing to lose, and this gives them a small chance to escape."

That sounded logical except…Red appeared agitated as he changed positions from shoulder to shoulder with his head raised as if looking for something. He stopped on my right shoulder and hissed. His head raised ten centimeters, pointing sixty degrees to my right. There sat Tashia, sipping a cup of something and looking back at me. Pannell followed my gaze and drew his Mfw and said something into his mic, which had my security coalescing around me. I put my hand on my weapon but then removed it. I didn't understand what she was up to but instinctively knew she wasn't a danger when Red relaxed.

"Careful," Pannell said as I began walking in her direction with him and all my security following. When I reached her, she smiled, which was the last thing I would have expected.

"You would make a good Kaliam sister. You're fearless and loyal," she said without any strong emotion I could detect—maybe a slight feeling of amusement. "I'll give you two options…" she began, and the feeling of amusement became stronger. She held up her hand before I could speak. "Option one, accept my challenge in the Circle of Truth, or option two, I'll take your option three."

I stared at her in utter disbelief. "I have no option three," I blurted, unable to understand why she had stayed, why she thought I would even consider fighting her, or how she thought…knew she was in control of the situation. Her head nodded toward her lap and I saw it. Her hands were wrapped around the handle of a long dagger, the point of which lay against her intestines—reminiscent of the old Japanese ritual suicide. It would be impossible to stop her from disemboweling herself. I didn't detect any fear or nervousness, so I had no doubt she could and would.

"All right. Why do I care if you commit suicide enough to risk death fighting you?"

"If you agree to a contest in the Circle with me, I will give you all the current information we have on the women you are looking for. That would save you months of searching and significantly improve your odds of finding all the women."

"I would find them eventually," I said but knew that might not be easy and was maybe impossible. These women didn't want to be found, didn't know they no longer had anything to fear, and some were undoubtedly addicts…

"You can't, Anna," Pannell said, leaning close to me so as not to be heard, but he was upset, desperate, and his voice louder than he intended.

"How can I be sure you'll keep your word?" I asked, knowing I was interested.

"Even evil people can have codes of honor. They may not be your code of honor, but they are honorable regardless. But I understand you don't trust me and I don't trust you. So, I have put all the information you desire on this chip." She grinned. "But…without the correct password it's worthless and entering the wrong password will destroy the chip. Take me to Zaspa and I will give the password to my sisters and let you examine the chip before we enter the Circle." She smiled. "And I will swear an oath that…if I win, I will undergo the Death by a Hundred Cuts."

Damn clever woman, I mused. She knows I bested her sister in the Circle so I'm confident I can win. Of course, she thinks or knows she's better than Yanira. And she knows I can't find all of the missing women without her help and that I care about them enough to risk my life, especially if I know whether I win or lose, the NIA will get the information. In turn, she gets an honorable death and won't have to spend her life behind bars.

I nodded, feeling I didn't have a choice. I had two options, and like the kidnapped women's choices, the second option was really shitty.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Star System: Zaspa – The Circle of Truth

Pannell insisted Tashia be transported on the Teutates so she wouldn't be a danger to me. She was, after all, a highly trained assassin. Before we left, Commissioner Mendoza discovered she had killed all of the kidnapping ring core group before setting the building on fire, which destroyed all of the records and information. The ME said they had all been killed with a knife. Hearing that, I didn't even give Pannell a token argument.

"Where to, Admiral?" Martz asked as she, Mendoza, Pannell, and I gathered in my office on the Taranis.

"Tashia informs me the senior Kaliam sisterhood is located on Zaspa and she should give them the chip and her oath."

"Why are you doing this, Anna? I have to say I agree with Pannell—she can't be trusted, and that information isn't worth your life," Martz said to emphatic nods from Mendoza and Pannell.

"I think it is. I would like to think someone would have done that for me if they had a chance to get me off the Shark." I gave Pannell a warm smile. "I know Paul would have done that for me—just like he would rush into death's arms to save wounded or embattled comrades. I've done a lot of reading about the Kaliam sisterhood and Tashia is right—we may consider them evil, but they do have a code of honor. Therefore, I think I can trust her and I'm not suicidal, contrary to some of my escapades." I gave a snort. "Tashia is not the odds-on favorite. She challenged me, so I get to pick the weapon—and her favorite weapon is the knife, not a Mfw."

* * *

When we arrived Zaspa, Pannell arranged for several military shuttles, and Tashia directed us to an isolated area where a small city existed. The buildings looked to be a more modernized version of old Japanese style living areas with their curved tile roofs, stone gardens, ponds, and lush vegetation surrounding each of the forty or more small houses. In a separate area sat a larger building with a giant outdoor training area. The village looked to have several hundred females of all ages, from children just learning to walk to gray-haired women over a hundred years of age, judging by their wrinkled and shrunken skin. There were no men.

We were met by five women who looked to be between sixty and eighty but fit and dangerous. Tashia went to one knee and bowed her head. "Elder sisters, I come to use the Circle of Truth, and if I survive, to submit to judgment for my actions and failures."

"Who seeks the truth with you, Sister Tashia?" the eldest of the group asked looking to where I stood.

"Admiral Paulus, a UAS agent. She and I have agreed to enter the Circle of our own free will. Her to obtain this chip, which I have agreed to unlock and give to her, and myself to atone for my actions and to revenge my sister Yanira," Tashia said with her head still bowed. The elder woman waved for me to approach. I did and gave a small bow in respect.

"Do you enter the Circle of Truth of your own free will?" she asked, appraising me through eagle eyes that I'd bet missed nothing.

"Yes, elder. I do."

"Your honor does you credit." She hesitated for a moment. "Sister Yanira was reasonably good, but she was not Tashia's equal. Tashia has some small talent." She gave me a wry grin, which invoked a few smiles from the women with her. "Why do you wish to have the chip?"

"The chip has the location of the women Tashia's group kidnapped, which will help get them found and released from their captivity quicker. It will take longer and we may miss some without that information."

She smiled. "Let us hope the Circle will find the truth. I will see the chip unlocked and turned over to you before you enter the circle. And if she prevails that, she undergoes the trial of Death by a Hundred Cuts."

"Thank you, elder. Everything I've read agrees the sisterhood's word can be trusted."

* * *

Good to her word, Tashia unlocked the chip and after a quick review of the material, I confirmed it contained the location of each woman, a profile, and the money in her account. I was a little surprised by some of the amounts—they were significant by any measure. We were both allowed an hour to get ready. I spent my time quietly reflecting on my life and talking to Red, even though he refused to share. My life had been wonderful, and I had no regrets—well, except one. The pain Alexa would suffer. But I hoped she would understand. At the end of the hour, I rose feeling at peace with what I was doing. I kissed Red, placed him in a small bag that I zipped closed, and handed to Pannell for safe keeping.

"The Circle of Truth has, from time immemorial, been our method of determining truth from lies, good from evil, the true path from the false one. It's the final arbitrator. Since Tashia challenged you, Anna Paulus, you have the choice of weapons."

"Mfw," I said, which was merely a formality, as everyone already knew what I would say and Tashia and I both were already armed with Mfws.

"If I see any other weapon used, I will direct the sentries to shoot that person. If one of you steps out of the second circle, you will have admitted your guilt and I will direct the sentries to shoot that person. And if either of you starts to draw your weapon before the signal, I will direct the sentries to shoot that person. Is that understood?" the elder sister said, looking at each of us until we nodded. "Good; take up your designated positions. At the sound of the gong, you are free to act within the restrictions I've given you. May the goddess judge you and find the truth." She turned and exited the Circle. I headed for the small circle twenty meters near the edge of the Circle from where I stood. When I turned back, Tashia was standing in another small circle some forty meters from me—we stood at the ends of a line that was equal to the diameter of the circle. I decided not to try and outguess Tashia, as that may prejudice my thinking and encourage a poor first response—and probably my last response. Tashia looked as relaxed as I felt.

GONG. The sound of the bell being struck shattered the silence. My hand sought the handle of my Mfw and my fingers folded around it. Tashia also had her hand on the handle of her Mfw. GONG. By the second strike of the bell, my Mfw cleared my holster and my finger pressed against the trigger. Tashia's Mfw also smoothly slid free of her holster. GONG. As the third strike reverberated, I had swiveled my Mfw upward and my finger began to tighten on the trigger. Tashia's Mfw continued to rise toward a normal firing position. As I had thought, neither of us had made any attempt to turn or jump or change position, thinking it would just delay our first shot and make it harder to aim. GONG. As the first strike of the bell echoed in the distance, I squeezed the trigger, thinking, my Mfw level with her intestines. At the same time, Tashia's Mfw reached normal firing position, pointing at my head just as the pop of my Mfw sounded. GONG. The echo of the second crack of the bell sounded far off in the distance. Tashia cried with pain as her body reflectively reacted to the pain. She fired at the same time I fired again, several centimeters higher this time. Her shot hit me in the hip. My second shot hit her in her shoulder as she twisted from the impact of the first shot.

I also spun from the impact of her shot and hit the ground on my side. I rolled desperately onto my back, bringing my Mfw up for another shot. Tashia had been propelled backward by my second shot but managed another shot, which tore through my shirt, and I felt a scorching, burning sensation along my right side. Tashia's backward momentum carried her out of the Circle. She had barely hit the ground when three arrows struck her: side, neck, and chest.

The elder walked into the Circle, knelt, and handed me the chip. "Justice has been served and the truth found." She turned and joined the other four women, who walked slowly back toward the village.

When I looked back, Renata was kneeling next to me, examining the wounds. She looked up at Pannell. "Colonel, you'll be happy to know she'll live. It's serious but nothing we can't fix. I hope the shuttle taped that fight, because I missed it. I heard the gong and then saw Tashia stumbling backward and Anna on the ground."

"Banner," I shouted.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, kneeling on the other side of me.

"Send an urgent message to my mother."

Kidnapping ring destroyed. I'm on Zaspa. I will be stopping home for a hug before picking up the rest of the kidnapped women. Love.

"Sign it Your Wild Daughter."