Coup d'etat
Author: C.R. Daems
Date: 2019-03-08 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Military Fiction; Mystery
Description: An insidious cabal has decided to change the direction of the United Alliance of Stars (UAS) with a coup d'etat--but not through a military takeover. They have devised a subtler coup: the manipulation of the Committee, the fifteen-star system that sets policy for the UAS. This group of terrorists, calling itself WEP--for "We the People"--have issued an ultimatum: revise the UAS Constitution, or they will kill those who oppose the change. And good to their word, shortly afterward, Committee delegates are being killed. The UAS Committee enlists their de facto troubleshooter, Anna Paulus, to shut
Publisher: Talon Novels

RED ANGEL

Book V: Coup d’État

By

C. R. Daems

Red Angel: Book V: Coup d’État

Copyright © 2019 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: 978-0-9983251-5-6

ISBN-10: 0-9983251-5-5

Check out all my novels at:

crdaems.com & talonnovels.com

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

A New Beginning

CHAPTER TWO

First Day in a New Galaxy

CHAPTER THREE

UnCab: Concerns or Problems

CHAPTER FOUR

Typhoon Anna

CHAPTER FIVE

The Murders

CHAPTER SIX

Lots to Learn

CHAPTER SEVEN

Searching for Answers

CHAPTER EIGHT

UnCab: A New Approach

CHAPTER NINE

Shades of the Past

CHAPTER TEN

Aide-de-camp

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Few More Women Would Help

CHAPTER TWELVE

Understanding the Problem

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Following Bread Crumbs

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A Flexible Opponent

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Following the Bread Crumbs

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chasing Ghosts

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

UnCab: An Elusive Target

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Black Water Gambit

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Searching for Ghosts

CHAPTER TWENTY

UnCab: Kill Paulus at All Costs

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Vanishing Crumbs

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A Game of Guesses

TWENTY-THREE

UnCab: Emergency Meeting

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The First Mistake Loses the Game

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

UnCab: So Close Yet So Far

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Time to Plan

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A Deal too Good to Be True

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Now or Never

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Eye of the Storm

CHAPTER THIRTY

Wedding Bells

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Annoy the UnCab

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

UnCab: A Thorn in Their Running Shoes

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Partial Answers

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Oasis: A Starting Point

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Black Water: Garbage In, Garbage Out

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

New Zheng: It’s Personal

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Sutan: A Real Pain in the Ass

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Stone Ring: At Last

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The Agreement

CHAPTER FORTY

UnCab: When at First You Don’t Succeed

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Eastar: Home at Last

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

A Going Away Party

United Alliance of Stars Space

PROLOGUE

Three men and a woman sat in the living room of a five-thousand-square-meter country mansion on the outskirts of city. The building was over a hundred years old but the interior was modern. A stone fireplace was flanked by two sets of floor-to-ceiling French doors, which led onto a stone patio that looked out toward a grove of mature oak and maple trees. The cottage’s white plastered walls supported a variety of oil paintings of twelfth-century villages and landscapes on old-Earth.

“Harold, I liked your idea from the beginning but I thought it an impossible dream,” a tall man in his fifties said as he lifted his crystal glass and sipped the fifty-year-old scotch they had been served. For his age he looked in good physical condition, his short brown hair showing no signs of gray. His angular face had sharp features and the look of a man of action.

“That’s because you are a man who believes in striking the enemy hard and fast. You’re good at tactics. I on the other hand am a strategist and take the long view. It’s taken two years to get the pieces in place. I think we can consider phase one complete and the reason I asked for this meeting. It’s time to implement phase two,” Harold said.

Steve, though ten years younger than Harold, had silver-gray hair. His face, round with a full beard, made him look like a college professor or a friendly grandfather. He wouldn’t be considered fat but he had at least ten kilos of extra weight for his average height and small frame. “Maria, are you ready for phase two?” he asked.

“I have two three-person kill-teams ready.” Maria’s neutral expression never changed, nor did her black eyes express any emotion. Harold shuddered internally as he gazed at the woman. Like a Venus flytrap, beautiful, tempting, and deadly. Maria was the youngest member of the group, in her late thirties with a trim, athletic frame, short curly auburn hair, and a pleasant heart-shaped face. “They are expensive, but trustworthy and skilled.” Her eyes scanned each of the men for their reaction. The third man smiled.

“I’ve had reports from my contacts at each of the planets. We could be approaching the end game in less than two years,” Ryan said. He was tall with a handsome round, clean-shaven face. Wearing a dark gray suit, he looked like a typical CEO of a large corporation—the man in charge. “If you will look at the television monitor,” he said as he took out his tablet and typed on an icon of a box wrapped with a large red bow. A matrix appeared, depicting each of the fifteen inhabited planets and the names of the current United Alliance of Stars Committee delegates and their party affiliation.

“Let’s start with Eastar…”

CHAPTER ONE

A New Beginning

I stood staring out my office floor-to-ceiling window at the city. The view from my eighteenth-floor office was spectacular even though many of the buildings were ten to twenty stories higher. Eastar was the oldest planet in the Alliance, more than five hundred years old with a population of five million, and the buildings reflected that evolution.

Standing there high above the city streets, I couldn’t help but reflect on the events that brought me here. My father, mother, and I had contracted the deadly Coaca Virus. They died and I lived because a red-headed krait saved me for no reason anyone can to this day explain. He sought me out in the winter when he should have been hibernating. Now he stays with me night and day, and won’t feed off another with the virus. Our relationship is symbiotic—he lives off my blood, and the poison from his bite keeps the virus dormant.

Magistrate Bellona saved me from becoming a government lab rat by adopting me when foster and private homes proved unsafe and research failed to duplicate the krait’s poison that keeps the virus dormant. That led to a loving home and a college education at the prestigious Naval Academy.

Then Commodore Stauffer noted my ability at ciphers and saved me from the difficulty I would have had finding meaningful work—not many would hire someone with a venomous snake attached to her twenty-four/seven—by offering me a position with the Naval Intelligence Agency, NIA. And there, Lieutenant Sinclair helped to look after a very naïve young girl.

Admiral Lulltrel further helped by insisting I take the Eastar NIA office when the project team I was on was disbanded. Otherwise I wouldn’t have taken the position, as I automatically resist change because of people’s reactions to a young girl with out-of-zone promotions and a krait for a companion. For that reason, I would not have done well at one of the remote NIA stations.

I had been very fortunate. Without those individuals, my life would have been a living nightmare. I owed them much.

My musing was interrupted when there was a knock on the door and Master Chief Stamm entered the office with Lieutenant Banner, my aide-de-camp.

“Well, Carl, what kind of a boring day am I in for?” I asked. According to Vice Admiral Lulltrel, my boss, admirals weren’t supposed to work. They assigned work to others and were there to provide the occasional critical decision only someone with their knowledge, experience, and skill could make.

“Ma’am, your schedule has been cleared…you have an appointment with the President of the United Alliance of Stars at eleven hundred hours,” he said, looking nervous, which master chiefs seldom did. My aide also looked concerned.

“I guess it’s too late to tell him my schedule’s full,” I said, but like them, I wondered why he wanted to see me and why Lulltrel hadn’t mentioned something to me. She must know…or did she? “I’m not that bored.”

“Ma’am, I notified your security. I thought you would want to go home and change into a dress uniform,” Carl said as my aide collected my jacket from the coat rack. I was currently in khakis, assuming it would be another uneventful day. Red, my ever-present krait, didn’t seem excited even though my adrenaline was active. He probably already knows what it’s about, I mused.

I had long ago realized Red wasn’t a normal krait. I thought my higher than average intelligence, as well as my ability to sense other people’s emotions, was due to his presence. He knows friend from foe, saved my life more than once, and warned me about danger several times. Psychologists would have many explanations for my feelings, but I’ve had many years of experience and too many instances for them all to be a coincidence or my imagination. I knew in my heart he wasn’t an ordinary krait, but I had yet to determine what he was.

“Carl, please tell Admiral Lulltrel. She doesn’t like surprises. Besides, she has a right to know,” I said as I headed for the door with the jacket David handed me.

“Yes, ma’am. I suspect this won’t be a boring day after all,” Carl said and gave me a wry grin.

“Ma’am, do you want me to come along?” David asked as he followed me out the door.

“No. But stay available. I have no idea what he wants. Unless he’s also bored and wants to chat about venomous kraits,” I said over my shoulder as my two marine security guards fell in behind me.

I was so engrossed wondering why the president of the UAS Committee wanted me, the ride to my home seemed to take only seconds. As I dressed, I decided it had to do with my Priority One Authorization, P1A, and Admiral Webb’s comment that the authorization was more or less permanent as the Committee considered me their troubleshooter. But I thought that applied to problems best given to the NIA. However, in that case, the notification should have come through Admiral Webb or Lulltrel. By the time I reached the Committee complex my mind was in chaos. Red lay wrapped around my neck with his little red head lying on my shoulder—asleep. I wanted to shake him. I’m nervous so you should be too, or at least doing something to calm me, I felt like shouting.

The Committee complex consisted of a massive domed structure that rose five stories and had seating inside for several hundred delegates and their aides. In front of the building were fifteen obelisks, each twenty by two by two meters tall, where each planet had its flag and designs etched into the granite depicting the planet’s history and uniqueness. The dome connected to a round reception building which connected to the rectangular building that housed the delegates and their staff from the fifteen Alliance planets. The building was actually three stories, but two were underground as a precaution to an attack or natural disaster. Each planet had its own secure area in the rectangular building. The current Core group members—the president, the majority leader, and the minority leader—had offices in the Committee’s domed building. Both buildings were only accessible via the reception building.

When I entered the reception area, I was amazed at the massive circular room and the number of guards and the people coming and going. I walked up to the rectangular marble counter, which had six stations with overhead monitors showing the service each provided. I saw one indicating Core Group Meetings and entered the roped off lane. No one was waiting so I approached the counter, where a young man flashed a smile as I neared.

“How may I help you, Admiral?” His eyes scanned my uniform and name tag and then looked to a monitor on his right. “Yes, I see you have an appointment with President Bennett.” He reached under the counter and fetched a plastic card, which he handed me. “If you will present this at inspection booth one, they will direct you to the correct room.” He pointed to my left, where a scanning device and several individuals stood along with armed guards in black fatigues. Behind the reception counter were five other inspection booths, but booth number one was the only one blocking the entrance to the domed building. The others granted access to the lobby and the corridor to the planets’ individual areas.

I walked up to booth number one and handed the young woman the plastic card with my name, picture, and a small embedded chip. The woman slid the card into a slot on her monitor and the screen filled with my picture and general information. To my surprise, the light on the scanner switched off. The woman turned to face the three guards standing behind the scanner.

“Sergeant Winston, the Admiral and her escort are cleared to see President Bennett and permitted to be armed,” she said loudly and waited for him to nod. Then she handed my card back to me. I noticed that none of the guards had identifiable military rank or insignia.

“Thank you,” I said and walked through the scanner. Neither the man identified as a sergeant nor the other two guards off to the side saluted. Their attention remained on us and the general area.

“Admiral, if you and your escort will get in the cart”—the sergeant nodded to a small electric cart which could seat six passengers—“Corporal Willis will escort you to the president’s office.”

I entered and sat in the first row, and my marine escort took the seats behind me. The cart moved at a good speed down the long white marble corridor. The walls on the left were a pale blue and empty except for monitors every twenty meters which were currently turned off. On the right were two large doors which I thought led into the domed Committee meeting room. According to my notes, the Committee members and their staff entered via a monorail on the other side of the building that ran along the back of each of their areas and only they had access. The corridor ended at a large reception area where three secretaries sat at large wooden desks and two guards stood next to each office entrance. The cart stopped in front of the middle desk, where a middle-aged woman sat staring at us. When I rose and stepped down from the cart, she spoke.

“Admiral Paulus, your security must remain here.” She looked like a no-nonsense woman who wasn’t impressed by admirals, but her stalwart demeanor did show signs of cracking as her eyes drifted from my multifunctional weapon, Mfw, strapped to my thigh, to my face, which didn’t look old enough to be a full commander, and finally to Red, who was now awake on my shoulder and staring in her direction. She rose quickly and walked to the door, knocked, opened the door, and entered. The two guards at the door looked very attentive. A few moments later she exited and held the door open for me. “Admiral Paulus, President Bennett will see you now,” she said and gave me a brief smile.

I entered and braced to attention, not sure if he required a salute or what to say. As I tried to decide, the president rose from behind his desk. At the same time, a woman and man rose from large wing-backed chairs sitting on either side of his desk.

“Relax, Admiral Paulus,” he said, smiling as his bright gray-green eyes evaluated me and Red. President Bennett was a tall man with a full head of gray hair that was almost white and hung over his ears. His smooth, angular face and penetrating eyes gave me the impression of a strong-willed individual. “Let me introduce you to my two companions, Mrs. Scherer, who is the majority leader on the Committee, and Mr. Glaser, who is the minority leader. Together we form what is called the Core group and are empowered to make independent decisions for the Committee.”

Mrs. Scherer was a tall, thin woman with a serious, narrow face and a hawk-like nose that gave her a predatory look. Her eyes scanned me from head to foot but lingered the longest on my face. Mr. Glaser was a sturdy-looking man with a square face and a body to match and was several kilo overweight. His gaze was fixed on Red.

“We, the UAS Committee, have a problem,” President Bennett said and waved to an empty chair that put me in the middle of a semicircle with Mrs. Scherer to my left, Bennett in the center, and Mr. Glaser to my right. I sat, feeling like a bug under an electron microscope. “There is a group calling itself WEP, which is short for We the People, that are insisting we revise the constitution of the UAS. They threatened to kill delegates who oppose WEP. At first, we didn’t take their manifesto seriously since we get more than our share of crackpot letters every month. But three months ago, they killed the delegate from Westar, then the next month the delegate from Amend, and two weeks ago the delegate from Holy Star.”

Bennett paused for effect, or for me to comment. I presumed they wanted me to find WEP and shut them down, and said as much.

“Yes.” He nodded. “We would like you to find and shut them down, but we know you’re not going to do that in a week, or a month, or maybe a year, during which time delegates will die.”

I thought that a very realistic view. A murder now and then didn’t give a lot of data points for evaluation and destroying an organization was harder than finding a wacko. But there was a catch. His two statements, while reasonable, were a dichotomy. Confirming my feeling, Red weaved his way into my hair as if waiting to hear it.

“It’s loose,” Mr. Glaser said, pointing at Red in horror.

“Sir, he never leaves my person. Never once in thirty years,” I said, trying to ensure Glaser he was safe although he was sitting only a couple of meters away from Red and me.

“That’s a long time, Admiral Paulus,” Mrs. Scherer said thoughtfully while leaning slightly forward. “That must be…awkward.”

“Anna, please. No. He’s like a heart—just there,” I said, thinking that a perfect analogy.

“Heart?” Scherer asked.

“If he dies or is stolen, I will die of the Coaca Virus within a few days,” I said.

“Ironically, Scherer, you could get a heart transplant cheaper than replacing that krait. He’s worth over two hundred fifty thousand credits on the black market, so I’ve heard,” Bennett said, but his eyes were on me, not Scherer. “Anna, we want you to replace Director Henry as the Director of Committee Security.” He continued before I could get my mouth to form coherent words, like No, or Definitely Not. “Henry has been a good administrator but he’s not a problem solver. You on the other hand are predominately a problem solver and have the reputation of being able to find the right people to fill your key positions. We need a problem solver who won’t neglect the organization. In our collective opinion, that’s you.”

I looked to Scherer, then Glaser, before returning my gaze to Bennett. They all appeared to agree. Damn it, even Red by the way his head hung on my forehead and the slight thump he gave me that felt like a nod. I keep telling everyone he doesn’t communicate with me but he does, just not in words. Of course, I wouldn’t admit that to anyone except my mother, who agrees with my fear that I’d be sent for a psych evaluation and fail. But I know it as certain as I know my mother loves me.

“Sir, I appreciate your faith in me, but… it would take months for me to learn the job and there will be a lot of resentment. I’m very young and have no experience in security, and a young woman in charge…” The words didn’t begin to express the horror I could envision for each of my stated concerns, not to mention unforeseen problems I couldn’t even imagine.

Bennett shook his head. “We know that Admiral Lulltrel had to coerce you and offer you a number of incentives to take the Eastar NIA position. Fortunately, you’re already in Eastar but here is what we can offer you. First, we’ll promote you to Rear Admiral, upper level, and have you placed on inactive duty with full pay while you are the Director of Committee Security. In addition, we will increase the director’s salary by twenty-five percent, as we are asking you to do more than just administer the group—”

Scherer interrupted Bennett in mid-sentence. “You can hire anyone you want and bring anyone from NIA, including your security detail.”

I put my head in my hands and wanted to scream. They were offering me a nightmare assignment for things I couldn’t care less about—rank and money. I finally had a position I liked, if a bit boring, and was surrounded by people I liked a lot. And they wanted me to give all that up to chase killers. Well, chasing bad guys and gals did have appeal… I raised my head and wiped away the tears that had begun to form at the thought of all I’d be leaving.

“No. If I take the position I’ll need to give it my best, and bringing people I’m comfortable with will cause me to give it my worst,” I said, obviously having decided to accept the position. I had joined the navy to chase bad people and save lives, and that had proved very satisfying.

“I like her,” Scherer said, looking at Glaser and then Bennett. “I have a feeling none of our incentives impressed her. What then, Anna?”

“I like puzzles and saving lives,” I blurted.

“Good,” Bennett said and smiled. “If you can be here three days from now at ten hundred hours, I will introduce you to your staff. That should give you time to clean up loose ends. Oh, wear civilian clothes as you will no longer be on active duty—Director Paulus.”

On the way back, I called Carl to set up separate meetings today with Admirals Webb and Lulltrel, my staff, and Colonel Paul Pannell. Then I sat back and berated myself for accepting, worried over taking on the responsibility, fretted over leaving the many good friends I had acquired over the past several years, and tried not to dwell on the chaos I was about to enter.

* * *

I entered Admiral Webb’s office, braced to attention, and saluted. To my surprise, Admiral Lulltrel was seated in a chair on my right.

“Relax, Anna, and have a seat,” Webb said, rising and coming around his desk. “You don’t look in a particularly good mood.”

“She looked exactly like this, if a bit younger, when she reported for duty as the Eastar NIA Chief,” Lulltrel said, sounding a bit amused.

“You know?” I asked, confused that they hadn’t told or at least warned me.

“President Bennett did talk to Lulltrel and me about you and mentioned he had a problem that needed a problem solver. I think he also talked to Colonel Pannell and General Guzman. But he didn’t mention the problem or what you would be doing. But since he didn’t consult Lulltrel or me, I assume he offered you a position of some kind.” He and Lulltrel actually leaned slightly toward me, watching me quietly as though I were a frightened rabbit they didn’t want to scare.

“He called me to his office and had Mrs. Scherer and Mr. Glaser present. They were rather…insistent I take the Director of the UAS Committee Security,” I said in a rush. Both Webb and Lulltrel sat back and stared at me, not so much in surprise but rather resignation.

“That must have been a very difficult decision for you, Anna, knowing how you hate change and this will be a big one. But you will always be welcome back here, as I assume they are placing you on inactive duty.”

“I know they thought they were doing me a favor. But they put me on inactive duty with full pay and promoted me to Rear Admiral. What would you do with a two-star admiral?” I whined.

“You can come work for me,” Webb said. “And I’ll bet Guzman would make you a two-star general and give you a regiment.” He laughed then sobered. “That’s the problem, Anna. We all want you, but only one can have you at any given time and the jobs we want you for are both emotionally demanding and physically dangerous.”

I left with Admiral Lulltrel a half hour later after having received assurance there would always be a place for me. In her office she had coffee served.

“I’m going to miss you, Anna. You have always had a very unorthodox style but you get things done. Bringing you to Eastar was one of the smarter decisions of my career. And I think President Bennett is also making a wise decision, although I worry about the strain on you. It’s a completely new environment dominated by men.” She stopped to sip her coffee. “Who would you recommend to replace you?” she asked.

I had given that question considerable thought on the ride back from the Committee complex in between worrying and near panic attacks.

“My first choice would be Commander Sinclair, and my second would be Commander Shrader, but I don’t believe either will want to make the change at this point in their lives. So, my third choice would be Commander Weaver at Holy Star.”

“Interesting. I knew you would recommend Sinclair and Shrader, and they are excellent choices, but not Weaver. Thank you.”

I left Lulltrel’s office dreading my next two meetings. When I arrived at my office, Chief Stamm was waiting with a look of concern.

“Hi, Carl, has Colonel Pannell arrived yet?” I asked, no longer sure what time it was and whether I was early or late for my meeting.

“Yes, ma’am. I let him into your office to wait.”

“Thank you, Carl. Have Lieutenant Banner bring us coffee,” I said and entered my office. Paul stood and I hugged him.

“Paul, I’m being reassigned. I’m happy I won’t be putting you and your marines’ lives at risk protecting me. But I’m depressed at not having you to protect me,” I said, feeling tears filling my eyes. Paul had been my guardian angel for most of my naval career, and he had become a very dear friend. He held me by my shoulders and stared like he was committing me to memory.

“I hope it’s nothing dangerous, but knowing you… I’ll miss you, Anna, you’ve come to feel like a daughter to me. If you ever need anything, call me.” He hugged me. We had just sat went Banner appeared and set down two coffees, mine with half milk and Paul’s black. The two of us spent an hour talking about our experiences before Carl let me know my staff was available when I was ready. I reluctantly said goodbye to Paul and let my staff in.

“Sit, please. I’ve been asked to take a new position effective immediately—” I had to stop as I was bombarded with questions which came too fast to answer. I held up my hand. “Commander Damon, I don’t know who Admiral Lulltrel will appoint as my replacement, but the three I’ve recommended are very good commanders, any of which you will enjoy working with. You’ve done well as the Eastar NIA Chief and will get an excellent performance report from me. Lieutenant Banner, I hope your decision to be my aide-de-camp was a good decision for you. Your performance as my aide was outstanding and that will be reflected in your performance report. And Chief Stamm, thank you for taking this young, inexperienced commander under your protective wing. It has been an honor to know each of you.”

When they left the office an hour later, I had tears in my eyes.

* * *

“Mother, I’m home,” I shouted as I closed the front door. Alexa appeared immediately from the living room, and I grabbed her in a bear hug. As I did, the stress of the day melted away. I felt like a small child safe and warm in her mother’s arms. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have traded that feeling for a million credits.

“Bad day?” she asked, making no attempt to pull away to look at me.

“A bad day is when you forgot you had a meeting with your boss an hour ago, or you report to the Bridge and find your entire crew drunk. This was more like showing up for work in your nightgown, or finding your navigator’s jump calculation has you in an unknown galaxy,” I said. Alexa choked a laugh then sobered.

“What happened?” She pulled back enough to look at me. “Come, you missed dinner. I’ll warm something up for you and you can give me the gory details.” She grabbed my hand and led me into the kitchen and began removing things from the refrigerator. The cook had obviously kept my dinner in case I hadn’t eaten when I arrived home.

“It started when I arrived for work, thinking how lucky I was…” I went on to explain my meeting with the Core Committee.

“So, you are now the Director of UAS Committee Security?” Alexa asked, wide-eyed.

“And a Rear Admiral, upper half, on full salary,” I shouted after a quick swallow which had me choking then coughing with Alexa patting my back. “They even offered to let me take any navy and marine personnel of my choosing.”

“Which you wisely refused,” Alexa said and I nodded. “Yes, your unknown galaxy analogy is very appropriate. You have a new position in a group where you don’t know anyone, manned predominately by an elite group of macho men, and you don’t have a clue what they do.”

“Who are about to discover their new boss is a very young woman,” I added with a wry smile. “Can you get some time off? I need to go shopping for clothes, since I’m no longer on active duty.”

* * *

Alexa took off the next two days. We went shopping, ate out, and went to a theater play one night. I must have spent my first month’s salary on clothes as I was seldom out of uniform when I wasn’t home. I should have a love life by now but Red didn’t help—hard to kiss a girl with a krait wrapped around her neck. Nor did my rank. Everyone my age was content to be a lieutenant commander or, with luck or patronage, a commander. Men normally wouldn’t like their girlfriend to outrank them. Besides, I wasn’t sure I could have children with the Coaca Virus and my life expectancy wasn’t long as it depended on Red’s life span. Not that I felt sorry for myself. I had a wonderful mother and best friend, and a good job…well, had a good job.

CHAPTER TWO

First Day in a New Galaxy

When the day to report to work came, I was as ready as I could be. I was nervous, but not afraid like the young girl who was dragged kicking and whining to Eastar years ago. I had earned my spurs as the saying went.

Assuming they would know where I was supposed to go, I entered the main reception area and went to the counter designated for Core Committee Meetings.

“Good morning, Admiral Paulus,” the neatly dressed man behind the counter said with a welcoming smile. “Give this card to inspection booth one and they will see you to your meeting,” he said while handing me a plastic card with my name and picture. I thanked him and headed for the inspection station, thinking so far so good. At least they expected me and were ready. Again, I was cleared and allowed to keep my Mfw and driven to the president’s office.

“Welcome, Director Paulus,” he said as he rose and came to shake my hand. “What can I do to help make this an easy transition?” he asked with what sounded like honest concern. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, and it won’t be easy.”

“Thank you, sir. No, it won’t be easy. I anticipate it’s going to be extremely difficult, but it’s my battle to wage. If it appears I need your support to do my job, it won’t work,” I said. “By the way, sir, who do I report to?’

He laughed. “Me. I’ll have my secretary, Mrs. Romero—Gloria—set up a weekly meeting with me. It might be short and maybe before or after normal hours, but I want to ensure you have everything you need to succeed and for me to be aware of your progress.”

“Thank you, sir. My first order of business will be to understand my people, the organization, and what support is available. I won’t be neglecting the threats and killings, but from experience, I know the problem is unlikely to have a quick resolution,” I said, wanting to set his expectations realistically. He nodded and I could only hope he understood. He waved and I followed him out the door and back down the hallway to a door which opened into a medium-sized conference room.

A group of men stood dressed in darks suits, dark gray dress shirts open at the neck, plastic badges hanging from red cords around their necks, and silver badges hanging from the breast pockets of their suit jackets. No one was smiling, which meant Bennett’s announcement was going to be like a flash-bang. I smiled mentally as I felt the emotional responses at the sight of their diminutive, young new boss.

“Gentlemen, as you all know by now, Mr. Henry has submitted his retirement papers effective yesterday. Miss Anna Paulus is replacing him as the new Director of Committee Security effective today—”

Before he could continue, I interrupted, deciding to take the proverbial bull by the horns, or in this case, the men by the balls.

“Thank you, President Bennett. I know you’re a very busy man. I’ll take care of the boring introductions,” I said, giving him a small bow and winking to let him know I didn’t intend to be rude but wanted to stand alone.

“Thank you, Director Paulus, I do have a full schedule.” His smile was a bit forced as he turned and left.

“All right,” I said, “rather than me reciting my résumé, which I forgot to bring, I’ll give you one hour to ask me any questions you have on your mind—to get to know the new recruit. If I choose to answer, it will be completely honest.” I went to the middle of the long polished purple wood conference table and sat. Slowly everyone sat. I had taken them by surprise, which was my intent, and the serious looks had been replaced by a mixed variety. Through Red I could feel curiosity, confusion, excitement, resentment, and approval. These were the senior staff, my direct reports, so the ages looked to be between thirty-five and fifty. All looked fit and averaged around one point eight to one point nine meters tall but the weight varied between seventy and ninety kilo. A voice jerked me out of my musing.

“Do you think you’re qualified to do this job?” one of the middle-aged men asked. His face held a bit of a sneer.

“That question is not relevant but let me answer what you really want to know.” I smiled, knowing this would certainly be one of the first questions. “I have no knowledge of what Committee Security does, not the organization, your qualifications, your responsibilities, et cetera. I must rely on you to help me get up to speed. Because unless you are willing to help me, I will make foolish decisions which will reflect on you and the organization and I will put all the blame on you.” I held up my hand. “However, with your help and letting me know when you feel I’m doing something that will reflect badly on you or the organization, we will be successful and you will get the credit, and I will accept blame for all the things that go wrong because it’s my responsibility.” I paused, awaiting a response.

“Why is the question irrelevant?” the oldest man asked with a twitch of his lip.

“Because I’m the boss. It doesn’t matter if you or anyone else considers me qualified. I’m still the boss. But I would imagine that most of the appointments are political and less qualified.”

“Are you implying your appointment is not political?” one of the older men asked.

“Unfortunately for you, perhaps, you finally have someone who was chosen for her specific experience.”

The youngest man snorted. “Have you ever fired that Mfw of yours at another man or woman?” He snickered.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever killed someone?”

“Yes.”

“How many?” the young man persisted, becoming increasingly frustrated.

“Do you mean directly or indirectly?” I asked, enjoying this more than I thought I would.

“Directly, face to face!” The young man’s face was flushed red in anger.

“I don’t keep count—” I stopped when the young man laughed but continued before he could speak. “Forty or fifty. If you doubt me you have my permission to talk to Marine Colonel Pannell. He has been my personal security for close to ten years.”

“Why did you need personal security?” the oldest man asked.

“I was involved in closing down the UAS smuggler case, the foreign raiders case, the merchant hijacking and marines for hire cases a few years ago, and the kidnapping ring last year. Several of those groups thought me a pain in the ass and had Wanted Dead rewards on my head. The last one was for five million credits. In addition, Red”—I reached into my shirt and pulled him out and let him wrap around my arm like the Rod of Asclepius—“is worth over two hundred and fifty thousand credits on the black market and at least once a year or so someone thinks they should have him.”

Now everyone’s mouth hung open and the smirks had disappeared.

“What did you mean by indirect?”

“If someone jumps out at you and you shoot him, that’s direct. If, on the other hand, someone jumps out at you and you miss, but the bullet hits a gas container which explodes and kills him and his buddies, that’s indirect.”

“And that number?” the same man asked.

“I don’t know and don’t want to know, but in the hundreds. And no. That is not one of the stories I’m going to share with you today, maybe never.”

“Is that snake venomous?” one man asked while staring at Red.

“Very. It’s a red-headed krait which has a symbiotic relationship with me. He feeds off my blood and in turn injects me with a poison that keeps my Coaca Virus in check. He never leaves my person, and therefore you will always know where he is. He is not aggressive but he will strike if he thinks I’m being attacked. I have the antivenom, but I’m told it’s a painful two- to three-day experience.”

“So, you’re not here just to run the organization,” the oldest man said.

“No, part of my responsibility is to stop the killing of delegates.” When there were no more questions, I continued. “Why don’t we take a fifteen-minute break.”

* * *

When everyone returned the mood had changed. The previous resentment and hostility were all but gone. I wasn’t a political appointee who had never fired a weapon in anger or who didn’t understand the potential hazards they faced each day. Their new boss may have had more experience than anyone there.

“Now it’s my turn,” I said and smiled, receiving snorts and guarded laughs in return. “I’d like your name and current responsibilities. No fluff, please. Who’d like to start?” I noticed all eyes turn toward the oldest-looking man in the room.

“I’m Seth McKenzie, your second in command. You’re right, the Director has been a prestigious political position. Most do not have military or combat experience, consequently my responsibilities have varied with the specific appointee. Mostly they used me to run the daily operations,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He looked around fifty, with a round, rough, outdoors-looking face with a prominent nose and full lips. He had a muscular build and looked fit. His brown hair was long but cut above his ears, and his hazel eyes were bright with intelligence. “I served in the marines, then joined Committee Security as a building guard, then Committee member guard, then Core group security, and finally second in command.”

“Thank you, that was perfect for now. Do you have rank or titles?” I asked, not sure how to address them.

He smiled. “Although we aren’t in the UAS military, we use normal army rank. I’m a colonel. Normally, we are addressed as c-agent or senior c-agent if we are in charge of a detail. We generally use last names for the men, first names among ourselves…but you’re the boss so you can call us anything you want.” He grinned.

“How about first names in private—I’m Anna—last names among the men, and rank or c-agent in public as appropriate?” I suggested and received nods from everyone. “Good, who’s next?”

“I’m Doctor Austin Pierce, in charge of the medical department. I take care of most medical problems unless it requires special equipment or a specialty I don’t have. In addition, I conduct the annual physicals, new-hire physicals, and occasionally treat a delegate or their staff. I’ve been a doctor and general surgeon for twenty-four years and have worked for the Committee for the last eight.”

“Thank you, Doctor Pierce. In an emergency you will need to call Doctor Renata at Mercy Hospital. She knows Red and me and is an expert on the Coaca Virus,” I said. Pierce nodded as he added a note on his tablet. The doctor was several kilo overweight but looked fit. His graying hair hung just over his ears, and his angular face had the intensity of a battlefield surgeon.

“I’m Glen Schwartz, major rank, and in charge of the personnel department. I screen prospective new-hires, handle payrolls, travel, and other expenses, maintain everyone’s personnel file, and investigate complaints. I served in navy personnel for fifteen years and joined Committee personnel ten years ago,” he said, and shrugged as if wondering if I wanted more. He had a round, plump face, short nose, a beard and mustache, brown wavy hair that covered his ears, and an easy smile.

“Thank you, Glen. Just right, no fluff. I’ll want to get to know each of you much better, but for now a brief synopsis will do.”

“I’m Craig Olson, major rank, and in charge of training,” the next man said. Craig had been the one quizzing me on shooting and killing. He looked to be the youngest of the group and the leanest, with a wiry build. “I spent ten years in the army special forces, and I’ve been here eight years. I conduct self-defense and arms training. Every new-hire must take a four-week introductory course and each c-agent must qualify on the range once each year.” He gave me an appraising stare.

“Thank you, Craig. Can I see your weapon, please?” I asked, interested in the type of weapons the c-agents carried since none of these men had one showing. He frowned for a second but then reached inside his jacket and pulled out what looked like an old Sig Sauer 9 mm from a holster under his left arm and a laser from under his right arm. I pulled back the slide on the Sig Sauer and found a bullet in the chamber and then examined the laser and found it set to tight beam and fully charged. The handles of both weapons were made from a beautiful black wood and had the Committee seals embedded. I also noticed a chip which meant only the owner could fire it. I handed it back to him. “Thank you. I would like to become competent with the Sig Sauer when you have time.” I looked back to the group. “Next?”

“I’m Justin Harris, lieutenant colonel rank. I’m in charge of building security. We monitor the entrance into the building to ensure only authorized individuals are admitted and that they aren’t carrying anything prohibited, and monitor for suspicious activities in the hallways and public areas. I was in the marines for fifteen years and Committee Security for the past twelve.” He watched me critically. He was tall and muscular, and had a square, rugged-looking face like a drill sergeant.

“Thank you, Justin. Next?”

“I’m Ramon Ballard, lieutenant colonel rank, and in charge of personnel security. I assign security for individuals to include the Core Committee and their families as well as any delegates and their families while they are on Eastar. And I assume I’ll provide your security, Anna.” He smiled. While not short by average standards, he was the shortest of the group, with a lean and wiry build, hawk-like nose, and narrow face to match. “I spent twenty years in the commandos, and the last eight years in Committee Security.”

“Yes, I need security, at least two guards twenty-four/seven and more if I’m required to travel. Please talk to Colonel Pannell. He can give you an idea of the problems you’re likely to face,” I said to his frowning stare. “And that should start immediately because I’ve dismissed my marine security. I thought you would rather handle that yourself.” I gave him a questioning look. I could see him considering the issues and the appearance if their director had to be guarded by marines.

“Yes, ma’am.” He rose and left the room while reaching for his Comm device.

“I’m Thomas Becker, major rank, ten years in the army supply and the last eleven here in Committee Security. I arrange transportation, supplies, rentals, and purchasing. Will you be needing a car and driver?” he asked. He looked to be the least fit, with ten kilo of excess weight and a bit of a stomach, and soft face and arms, but he had a friendly face complete with laugh lines.

“No. I have a skimmer,” I said. He gave me a surprised look.

“The last director had a car. We’ll keep it reserved for you in case you need to go someplace that can’t accommodate a skimmer.”

I looked to McKenzie. “Seth, do I have a secretary?”

He gave me an amused smile. “Yes, ma’am, Director. You have a secretary, office, and an aide-de-camp, in addition to over a thousand personnel. And as soon as this meeting is over I’ll introduce you.”

My cheeks felt hot. “Sorry, Seth. I feel like a recruit on her first day at a new job.” I looked around and found mostly smiles and knowing nods. “Thank you, gentlemen. I look forward to learning the ropes and will only be angry if you tell me you agree with me when you don’t. I want your advice, although I may not always follow it. You’ve been doing the job and know the potential problems so your opinions are important.”

I found myself wondering if I had been right to jump right in feet first not knowing the temperature. I shrugged as I touched Red to my lips, forgetting Seth was still in the room.

“After thirty years, I would imagine he’s a close friend,” he said quietly. A very perceptive man, I mused.

“Yes, my early years were tough, and he was my only friend. I’d keep him with me even if I didn’t need him to keep the virus in check,” I said.

“I liked your approach, Anna. Honest and straightforward. And I think it’s time the organization had a real director who took an interest in the organization and its people.” He pointed toward the door. “Let’s get you settled.”

* * *

“Mrs. Goodwin, this is Miss Anna Paulus, the new Director of Committee Security. Miss Paulus, this is Martha Goodwin, the very efficient gatekeeper to your office.”

“Nice to meet you, Director Paulus,” Martha said while appraising her new boss.

“Anna, please. Let’s see my office and we can talk,” I said.

Martha was quick to walk to the door and open it. It was a large room with a monstrous desk made of a black wood that seemed to soak up the sunlight shining through the three narrow windows which were spaced about a meter apart. Through them, I could see a manicured lawn and a dozen or more mature shade trees. I would miss the view from my old office. There were several beige-cushioned chairs and a round table against one wall. A large carpet with the UAS Committee Security seal, a circle with three snarling dogs’ heads with teeth showing, covered the floor in front of the desk. One dog faced right, one left, and one forward—a Cerberus, I suddenly realized. The c-agent stood for Cerberus-agent. And when I looked back at the seal the writing circling the Cerberus read: United Alliance of Stars Cerberus Security. Along one office wall were two built-in cabinets. One looked built to hold a hundred books but was almost empty. The other had a small refrigerator and wine cooler, crystal glasses, and an assortment of liquors.

“Where do the two doors lead to?” I asked.

“One is to your conference room and the other is a private bathroom,” Martha said, smiling. I walked over to the chairs, each of which had a Cerberus embroidered in its back cushion, pulled one out, and waved for the others to join me.

“I’d like you two to be my mentors,” I said and looked at Seth and Martha, who looked…surprised, then thoughtful, then pleased. They nodded. “I hate change, so I plan to be here until I retire or they fire me.” I smiled at their puzzled looks. “I want to learn the details of the business, not to micromanage the organization but to understand the problems we encounter, and to contribute to the solutions.”

“You aren’t what we were expecting.” Seth laughed. “And I don’t think the core group understand who they just hired. All right, what are your priorities?”

“Getting to know my staff and their responsibilities, the current investigation into the delegates’ assassinations, and learning to use the Sig Sauer. If you use it, then I should. Oh, and coffee and milk. Red and I don’t drink liquor.” I waved at the minibar and wine cooler. Seth laughed but Martha’s eyes were fixed on Red, who had made a grand entrance and wrapped around my neck. “Martha, meet Red. He’s a venomous krait who keeps my Coaca Virus dormant. He never leaves my person so he’s not dangerous and is never loose. He’s not a pet, more like a medical dispenser.”

Martha gave a weak smile. “He’s very pretty.”

Just then there was a knock at the door and a minute later Ramon entered. He looked worried.

“I’ve had a quick talk with Colonel Paul Pannell. I’m afraid that although I believed what you said—no, I thought you were overstating the problem—Paul has convinced me you were understating the problem. I’m going to meet with him so I can get a better picture of our new director and her security needs.”

“Thank you, Ramon. Red is the immediate problem, but the terrorists may become a problem. I seem to have a bad reputation among our enterprising bad guys.” I felt a pang of regret for Alexa and all the anxiety I had and continued to cause her. She didn’t deserve it. For her sake I should have stayed at the NIA. I sighed. “Sorry,” I said, feeling sorry for Alexa and the men and women who would suffer and die to protect me.

“Go with Ramon and get your security arrangements settled,” Seth said. “I suspect that is the highest priority. I’ll get the files together for the three murdered delegates, and we can talk later.”

I nodded and followed Ramon out the door and down the hall to the main conference room. When we entered eight men stood.

“Men, this is Director Paulus, our new boss.” He smiled, probably at the look on most of their faces. Whatever they were expecting, it wasn’t me. “I’ve had a short talk with Colonel Pannell, who was in charge of her security at NIA. He convinced me that her potential threat level is high twenty-four/seven in and out of secure buildings. I’ll have specific information to share with you after I meet with Pannell tomorrow.” He turned to look at me.

“Good morning, men,” I said. “Let’s dispense with introductions for now. When you come on duty, I’d like each of you to spend a few minutes with me so I can get to know you and you me. You will be risking your lives for me and you should feel comfortable enough to tell me when I’m endangering you or me. I may not listen, but I want to be told so I can weigh the risk against the need at the time. For now, let me tell you a little about me. I live alone with my mother. Our property has police sound and video surveillance, and the house has a safe room, so all we need is a bit of a warning in the event of danger. I have a skimmer that I use to go to and from work. I normally carry an Mfw but I intend to switch to your standard weapons. You don’t have to worry about me shooting you. I’m experienced with firefights and can consistently hit the target in the kill zone. And lastly, don’t forget to protect yourself while you’re protecting me.” I looked at Ramon.

“Until I talk to Colonel Pannell, we will have two guards with the Director at all times…” He looked at me. I nodded. “Henry, Jerry,” he said. Everyone rose, and six left the room.

“Colonel Ballard, as I understand it, you are responsible for personal security. I’d like to understand what that entails and see it in action,” I said, deciding to start with his group.

He showed me to his office, where he explained that each year approximately fifty percent of the people assigned to personal security rotated with the people assigned building security. New-hires generally began in building security and weren’t used for personal security until they had completed their probationary period and passed the required training. About twenty-five percent of the c-agents preferred to stay in either building or personal security.

When he finished, I asked to see the people on personal security for the Core group. With Ramon present, I talked to the six c-agents currently on duty and found their duty was mostly guarding the entrance to an individual’s office. One of the two guards would follow the person if they left the office so long as they stayed in the building. Two c-agents rode in the limo when they went someplace. Four c-agents and a three-car escort were used to see them to and from work.

When we returned to my office, Seth was waiting. I invited him and Martha to join us.

“Thank you, Ramon. That was very interesting. How many life-threatening attempts have you had on the Core personnel over the past three years?”

Ballard gazed off for a minute or two before speaking. “Two. They both occurred about two years ago.”

“I’d like your assessment after you talk to Paul—Colonel Pannell. Until then I want two c-agents following me at all times. They are to be in any room I’m in unless I state otherwise. Four c-agents when I leave the building, and an armed shuttle to see me to and from work,” I said. Ramon’s eyes went from me to Seth and back. “I’ll be open to your advice but only after your talk with Paul.”

“Yes, ma’am. If that is all, I’ll be off to make the arrangements,” he said, and left after I nodded.

“Seth, I’d like to sit in on Major Olson’s training sessions and in between get briefed on building security by Colonel Harris. Oh, and would you schedule an hour for Sig Sauer training, preferably today if it’s not too inconvenient,” Red weaved into my hair as I spoke and laid his small red head on my forehead. “Oh, I’d like to take the murder investigation files home with me tonight if I can.”

Seth laughed. “I think this puts new meaning on the expression, hit the ground running.”

“Oh…” I gave a lopsided grimace. “Tell everyone I’m sorry for the panic, but I have a lot to learn about my responsibilities and how the organization functions before I can focus on the terrorists.” I felt an urgent need to rush since the terrorists weren’t going to wait for me to get comfortable before they struck again. “Martha, please coordinate my schedule with Colonel McKenzie,” I said and sat back in my executive chair. It was very comfortable and seemed to wrap me into the soft black leather.

“It will be good getting everyone hopping. It’s been a bit boring lately. Here are those files you requested,” he said, handing me a flash drive. He turned and left.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Martha said. “You’re the first woman to hold the position and a welcome change.”

“Anna, please.”

“Anna, I have been here long enough to have seen four directors. To them the directorship was nothing more than a prestigious position. You seem to think it’s more a job.”

“Between you and me, I hate prestigious positions. So, you and I must think job all the time,” I whispered as if it were to be a secret. Martha laughed.

“Job it is, Anna,” Martha said. She spent the next hour giving me access to the various Committee computers and databases.

* * *

My two security guards directed me to an elevator which delivered us to an underground room the size of two soccer fields.

“Ma’am, this is the Committee’s training area and a workout area for c-agents. The firing range is at the far end,” said Henry, the sergeant on my two-man security, pointing to the other side of the area. “The firing range is on the other side of that wall.”

When I looked, I saw a floor-to-ceiling cement wall with a metal door. As I made my way to the firing range, I noticed the huge room was partitioned into separate sections: one with weights, exercise equipment, and a lap pool, one a training area with mats for fighting, a conference room and rest area, and the firing range. A running track circled the entire room.

Inside the firing range was a large open room with several long tables with benches and a room that appeared to contain weapons, from what I could see through the open door where Major Olson stood. A glass partition with a second door separated the open room from ten fifty-meter firing lanes. At present no one was inside.

“Good evening, Major Olson,” I said as he approached. He didn’t smile.

“Director, I understand you want me to instruct you on the use of a Sig Sauer handgun,” he said while evaluating me.

“Yes, I’ve never used one, and thought I should carry and be qualified with the same weapons as the c-agents. The navy uses the standard Massur Laser but not the Sig Sauer handgun. I’ve always used a standard Heckler Mfw.”

“As you saw, we actually use the Sig Sauer Laser,” he said, drawing it from his right underarm holster.

“Well then, I’ll need instructions on both.” I smiled as he turned and went back into the weapons room with me following. He gave me a hard look but didn’t say anything. As I thought, it contained all sorts of handguns, lasers, and multifunctional weapons as well as a few assault weapons. “As well as some of the weapons I don’t recognize. But that can wait for a while,” I said and could barely restrain a smile at the scowl on his face. He picked up a laser and a handgun and left the room; again I followed. When he headed for the door to the firing lane, I stopped him.

“Major,” I said to get his attention and nodded to the table. “First you show me how to take those weapons apart, explain how each works, and how to get it back together again. Then we fire them.” I managed to keep the amusement I felt out of my voice. It was obvious that Craig didn’t like me…having a weapon, or teaching me, or wasting his time…or something.

“You want to know how to take it apart and how it works?” he said, barely able to restrain whatever he was thinking, judging by the expression on his face.

“Master Chief Ransom, my weapons instructor at the Naval Academy, would be appalled if I shot a weapon before I knew how to maintain it,” I said, raising my eyes in mock horror. I noticed Henry and Jerry straining not to laugh but they couldn’t contain a slight grin. Craig stared at me for a long time.

“True,” he said and finally smiled. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m so used to political appointees…and you’re a woman and so young…”

I took pity on him. “Craig, I’m sorry, too. The murders are making me feel rushed to get acclimated. I want each of you to tell me what you’re thinking. I may not listen but I won’t get mad. It’s much better than letting it fester, and it may well be something I need to hear.”

We spent an hour taking apart both weapons, talking about how they worked, and reassembling them. Then we had a short firing session.

“Can I come here at any time?” I asked.

He laughed. “Normally, I’d prefer to be here but you’re the director and as qualified as any c-agent. I’ll give you the master passcode so you can get in.”

“I’ll ask Martha to text you when I plan to visit. That way you’ll be aware that I’m here. I’d also like to visit your various classes to see what the new-hires are learning.”

“Want to participate?”

“No, if my c-agents and I can’t kill whoever’s attacking me, I don’t think a bit of self-defense will work,” I said and Craig nodded. “But I’d like to get a feel for our new-hires’ training.”

* * *

“No longer bored?” Alexa asked when I finally arrived home.

“No. Everything is new. Being a civilian, new organization, new people, new weapons…” I shrugged. “I’m trying to learn it all and to fit in. I had a session today with a Sig Sauer, which is the weapon the agents use. But I don’t like it in a shoulder holster. On big, tall men you don’t notice it but on me…” I removed both the Sig Sauer and the laser and handed them to Alexa.

“You strap it to your leg…” Alexa removed the gun and began placing it on different parts of my body, causing us to begin laughing hysterically. “If you wore a skirt, you could strap them to your legs. What about…?” She took a scarf and tied the Sig in the middle of my back and then put my jacket back on. “That’s not noticeable and completely invisible from the front.”

* * *

The next week was a whirlwind of activity as I visited my direct reports’ sections and asked lots of questions. I also spent an hour at the firing range each day and had a holster made that I could strap around my waist so I could draw the weapon with my right hand. I didn’t have any problem learning the feel of the Sig Sauer and found drawing it from my back slightly easier than from under my arm. After that, I began to practice shooting from my waist as weapon rose to eye level. I found that relatively easy after my previous work with a Mfw. Then I had a crazy idea.

“Saul, come here.” I waved to one of my security guards. “I’m going to turn sideways so my holstered weapon is pointing down range. I want you to make sure the barrel is not pointing toward my back and then pull the trigger,” I said, turning sideways.

He stood frozen, looking at me in shocked horror. Maxine, one of the few women c-agents, walked up to me. She reached in and pulled the Sig Sauer out enough so she could grip the handle and get her finger on the trigger, made sure the weapon wasn’t pointing toward my back, and fired. I felt a sharp burning sensation across my back and when I looked down range, my target had a hole about ten centimeters below the bull’s-eye.

“Wow,” Maxine exclaimed. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

“I think so,” I said as I removed the holster and pulled my blouse free of my pants.

“You have a red streak from the path of the bullet.” She winced as if it were her fault.

“So, if I had a wide leather strip there…” I muttered almost to myself.

Maxine’s eyes and face lit up. “You could shoot twice as fast and reduce your profile at the same time… That’s super clever and sneaky.”

CHAPTER THREE

UnCab: Concerns or Problems

“They have recruited Anna Paulus to be the Director of Committee Security,” Harold said while staring out the windows of the living room at the shifting kaleidoscope of colors the sunset created against the puffy white clouds.

“Is that more of a problem than her being in the NIA?” Steve asked as he poured himself a glass of beer and took a sip.

“Yes. She will have more power and be closer to the problem. She has been described by Admiral Lulltrel as a bloodhound and pit bull mix. She should have added cat to the mix. At one time during her career she had a five-million-credit Wanted Dead reward on her head and no one collected, although several marines tried. And a couple of years ago an FPU cruiser, the Shark, had her captured and brought on board their ship in Westar space. Next thing we hear, Paulus is in Eastar with the cruiser. No details,” Harold said, turning from the window and fetching a glass of whiskey.

“That sounds like a made-up cover story or a rumor on steroids,” Steve said with a snort.

“You may be right, Steve, but we know she was kidnapped and transported to the Shark cruiser, and we have the cruiser, she’s alive, and they aren’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what the truth is,” Ryan said. “We know she has closed down several major criminal organizations and she can be ruthless. She proved that with the last group of sexual predators. She used her P1A authority like a wrecking ball, smashing apart all our UAS protected rights.” Ryan finished his glass in one gulp. “And we thanked her when she was finished.”

“Once we complete our plan, it won’t matter what Paulus knows. We will be in power and we can retire her legally. And our timeframe for completion is too short for her to figure out what is going on, who is responsible, and stop it.” Harold held up a hand to stop comments. “However, I think we would sleep better if little Anna retired sooner rather than later. Maria?”

“I’ll arrange it,” she said with a slight nod. “Her murder wouldn’t be suspicious. Lots of nasty people have a grudge against her, and others would like that two-hundred-fifty-thousand-credit krait she has around her neck.”

“Your kill-squad?” Ryan asked.

“No. They each have special skills we need to carry out our plan, so I’d hate to lose one or more of them. They need to stay under the radar. I’d prefer some expendable assets. Much less chance of them being traced to us and more likely to be thought a revenge attack for one of Paulus’s NIA projects,” Maria said with a slight smile on her lips as if her mind was seeing the event being executed as she spoke. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Typhoon Anna

“Well, what do you think of our new director?” Seth asked at an informal gathering of the senior c-agents.

“I spent several hours with Colonel Pannell,” Ballard said. “Our lady director is young but she’s had more combat experience than any of us and we’ve all served in combat units. He said she has nerves of steel and has a silver cluster on her Purple Heart ribbon. Paul claims she saved his and his men’s lives on a couple of occasions and described several of the assassination attempts. I couldn’t believe how ingenious her attackers have been. He said the bad guys are rightly afraid of her, and if our terrorists are part of a larger organization and not just one or two individuals, they will want Paulus dead.”

“Her old boss, Vice Admiral Lulltrel, said Paulus has a very easygoing unorthodox style of managing but don’t let that fool you. She’s no pushover, more like a bloodhound and pit bull mix,” Seth interjected. “And I talked with General Guzman. He said he’d rather try and intimidate President Bennett than Anna Paulus. My impression was he’d make her a general and give her a regiment if she asked.”

“And she can shoot, almost as good from her waist,” Craig said. “Maxine tells me she had a new holster made for her back. With it she can shoot while the gun is in the holster.” Craig shook his head. “She has been at the firing range for an hour each day this week.”

“I also talked to her old secretary, a master chief, and her aide-de-camp, a lieutenant, and her station chief. They all love her. Everyone agreed she hates promotions and change and wasn’t happy taking this job,” Seth said. “I think we got a winner, which is good as she doesn’t appear to be planning on leaving anytime soon. I say she deserves our full support.”

There were nods of agreement from everyone.

Seth sat quietly when everyone had left, thinking about his new boss. Anna had impressed him right from the start by opening herself to questions rather than making some speech about how privileged she was to be the director. He could see why now. She wasn’t impressed. Money and rank weren’t important. People were. She wanted to know everyone and to be part of the team, not its dictator or its figurehead or its spokeswoman, but a member And although she had poked her nose into everyone’s domain, she hadn’t tried to change anything. It would be interesting when she turned her focus on the terrorists. He smiled at the thought.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Murders

I sat at my desk staring at my tablet. The flash drive Seth had given me contained four folders titled Manifesto, Mr. Oscar Morales—Westar, Mrs. Valerie Briggs—Amend, and Mr. Myron Crawford—Holy Star. I clicked on Manifesto.

WE the PEOPLE demand a fair and equitable system of democracy and will if necessary hold those accountable that oppose or obstruct its implementation. Currently, Eastar has fifty-five percent of the UAS population. However, under the current system Eastar has only one seat on the Committee out of fifteen. That’s less than seven percent of the vote. WEP demands equal representation based on the population—democracy. WEP will give the Committee thirty days to revise the UAS Constitution or WEP will act to dissolve the Committee.

I concluded they did have a valid point, but I doubted the Committee was going to acquiesce since the fourteen affected systems had ninety-three percent of the power and would not want to relinquish their advantage. And although the issue sounded reasonable on the surface, each system had an equal stake in the success of the Alliance. But then, Eastar was probably committing more to the UAS security in terms of money and manpower. At this point, if Eastar felt the way WEP did, their only alternative would be to pull out of the UAS. Fair isn’t my concern, I mused. Terrorism wouldn’t be tolerated and my responsibility was to stop the killings. I thought it safe to conclude WEP is Eastar based, as I couldn’t imagine how such a revision to the Committee’s constitution would benefit any of the other systems.

I shrugged and clicked on the Mr. Morales icon and several new folders appeared: Police Report, Committee Investigation, and Conclusions. I began with the police report. Delegate Morales had been at a high-end private nightclub, LaPerm, accompanied by his two bodyguards and several male friends visiting from Westar. They had been joined by several women they met at the club and around midnight left and went to the Winston Hotel. There Mr. Morales rented the Presidential Suite, which had two bedrooms and a large living room complete with couches, tables, a small bar, and a spectacular view of the city from his fortieth-floor location. He was discovered dead in the master bedroom the next morning. The women had left sometime during the early hours of the morning. When it was determined that Morales was a Committee delegate, they contacted Mr. Bennett.

Next, I clicked on the Committee Investigation icon. The Committee sent Doctor Pierce, who determined that Morales had been poisoned sometime between ten that evening and two in the morning. The subsequent autopsy concluded the poison had been ingested and that the drug was a neurotoxin, tetrodotoxin, commonly associated with pufferfish but also found in other sea life including certain algae, crabs, octopus, and frogs. The forensics team could find no container in the room with traces of the toxin. Nor could the identity of the women be ascertained. The team concluded that only Morales had ingested the toxin, because the hotel cameras verified his two companions and the women were alive when they departed. Furthermore, no one else had been reported poisoned at the LaPerm.

I clicked on the file titled Conclusions. The investigating team were unable to determine how or where Morales had ingested the toxin or whether it had been on purpose or by accident and therefore, whether WEP had been responsible.

Mr. Morales died thirty-five days after the WEP’s manifesto, and although they did not claim responsibility for his death, I didn’t think they could be ruled out. Admitting to the murder would be a confession of guilt if they were caught, whereas keeping silent meant the police would require proof; however, the delegates would assume WEP had carried out on their threat.

I clicked on Mrs. Briggs’s folder and then the Police Report. Mrs. Briggs’s murder was more straightforward. She had gone shopping at one of the upscale shopping areas along with her secretary and two bodyguards. All four had been gunned down in the parking garage when they had returned from shopping. The ballistics report said the attackers had used assault weapons. They had found more than two hundred brass casings at the scene. And judging by the lack of brass from her bodyguards’ weapons, the group had been caught by surprise.

The Committee investigation had little to add. The Conclusions file stated that the killing did not appear to be a robbery gone wrong but could have been a revenge killing or other motive unrelated to WEP as the group again never claimed responsibility. They did note that Valerie Briggs was killed thirty-two days after Mr. Morales’s suspicious death.

I thought it suspicious that the group still hadn’t claimed responsibility. Clever or some other reason? I wondered, since terrorist groups generally took credit for everything, even things they didn’t do if it appeared to support their cause.

I moved on to Mr. Crawford’s files. He apparently had a mistress he visited regularly at a condominium he owned, a Miss Angel Love. According to the police, four masked men had entered the condo, secured Miss Love, and waited for Crawford to come for his normal weekend visit. They killed Miss Love and Mr. Crawford after having tortured him, based on the condition of his body. The Committee investigation found Crawford’s bank account on Eastar had been robbed. They concluded that the murder had been a vicious robbery and not connected to WEP even though it occurred thirty-six days after Mrs. Briggs’s murder.

When I finished reviewing all the files, I had the distinct impression that WEP was made up of some very clever people. Although the individual events seemed unrelated to the manifesto the timing was meant to tie the murders to the manifesto. I felt they were playing a game of some kind. But what?

Red agreed. He had been in my hair with his head on my forehead as I read through the files—a position I had long ago concluded meant he was interested. A psychologist could have written several books on me if I had been willing to confide my thoughts about Red. He would have thought me delusional and come up with all sorts of explanations—my symbiotic relationship, coincidence, hallucinations due to Red’s poison, my fear of dying, Red’s gift of life, or my multiple encounters with assassins and thieves, or…”

But there were too many coincidences. Red found me in the snow. Snakes hibernate in the winter and don’t go wandering in the snow looking for food. If he were looking for someone with the Coaca Virus for some odd reason why didn’t he stay with the man who stole him from me? He had killed that man. Snakes don’t warn you when trouble is present. Red had done that too many times for it to be my imagination. Venomous snakes don’t distinguish friend from foe. He’d let Sinclair handle him when I gave him to her and ignored Alexa no matter how she touched or hugged me. And although he didn’t talk I knew when he’d found the answer to a problem I was working on when I couldn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if someday he morphed into something and finally told me who or what he really was, because he acted like no other snake or pet or animal. And now he was agreeing with me: the terrorists weren’t what they seemed.

CHAPTER SIX

Lots to Learn

“Good morning, Anna,” Martha said, handing me a hot cup of my usual coffee-milk concoction as I entered my office. Seth was already there sitting at the small table with a cup of coffee. He rose when I entered. I waved him to sit as I joined him and Martha followed, still speaking. “I have you set up to see Major Becker today and Major Schwartz tomorrow. That’s two senior personnel you haven’t yet had a chance to visit.”

“Thank you, Martha. Visiting each department has helped me understand the organization better, a chance to talk with my team, and for them to get to know me,” I said and took a sip of my coffee.

“What did you think about the murders?” Seth asked. I noticed he automatically assumed I had read the files and had an opinion.

“I think they were all committed by WEP, but I’m not buying the manifesto,” I said.

Seth gave me a wide-eyed look of surprise. “Why not?” he asked.

“Doesn’t feel right, Seth. Why no reference to the manifesto after the killings? Why aren’t they taking credit?”

“They are trying be cautious in case they are caught or…maybe they didn’t do all the murders.”

“Possible, but I don’t think so. They want us to focus on the manifesto and the murders, to distract us.”

* * *

“Well, Director, what would you like to see?” Major Becker asked after he fetched me a cup of coffee and we had settled down in his office.

“Start wherever you feel best. I’m just looking to get a general understanding of each of my senior personnel’s responsibilities. It will help me understand what you’re telling me.” I grinned.

He grinned back. “Administration comprises all those functions that nobody wants to be bothered with but are necessary for a smooth-running operation. Soap and toilet paper in the restrooms, janitorial supplies, uniforms, training equipment, weapons, electronic equipment as well as vehicle maintenance and rentals. We do all the purchasing for the organization. It’s a bit unusual, put we also handle the payroll and personal expenses,” he said.

“Do we have janitorial and maintenance personnel on staff?”

“No. We contract all that type of work to private contractors. Building security is responsible for monitoring the work inside the building.”

“I don’t envy you, Thomas. That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Think you could put in a good word with my boss?” He laughed, then proceeded to walk me around his domain, introducing me to the people in each section, and letting them give me more details. By the time I left late that afternoon, I agreed with Becker. We had his group to thank for the smooth running of the Committee’s organization.

After my tour, I made my way to the firing range. There I spent an hour practicing with the Sig Sauer, Laser, and my in-holster emergency technique.

* * *

The next day Martha had scheduled me with Major Glen Schwartz, the head of the Personnel section, in the morning and to watch a training class in the afternoon.

“Good morning, Director,” Glen said as I was ushered into his office and served coffee. Since I was always served coffee that was half milk, I knew the rumor network was working, and I wondered what other idiosyncrasies of the new director were circulating. “What would you like to know?”

“Good morning, Glen. An overview of your responsibilities and a tour. I’m not trying to do your job, just to understand what each department does. I’m hoping that will help me when you are pressing me for a decision.” I grinned, and he nodded.

“Usually our directors don’t bother trying to understand. They think they have all the answers because they are the directors.”

“I’d prefer you have the answer and that I can understand your logic,” I said.

He laughed. “Me too.” He paused before continuing. “I’m responsible for screening the applications for our working positions. Some we get from inquiries, some through advertising, and others through consulting firms. Everyone fills out a questionnaire which is reviewed. Those we like we investigate and if we like the results, we hire them or put them on a waiting list. If we want them for c-agents, they are put through a one-month training course. If they pass we offer them a position. We maintain their personnel file, which includes their background checks, work history, personal information, awards, promotions, pay, et cetera.” He looked to me. When I nodded, he continued. “I assume Seth has given you the database access information.” Again, he waited for my nod.

“Do you have my records and Red’s?” I asked. He nodded hesitantly. “Good. Make sure you have my mother, Appeals Court Justice Bellona, and Doctor Renata’s contact information.”

Glen then introduced me to his staff and showed me around his department. We finished in time for lunch and Craig’s self-defense course. I spent the next two hours watching men who looked very fit and competent engage opponents with clubs, knives, kicks, and punches.

When he had the men practicing a knife technique, Craig came over to where I was sitting. “Have you had self-defense training?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t need it,” I said. “I carry a weapon at all times.”

“But what if you’re attacked by surprise and can’t reach your weapon or you lose it?” He sounded amused. I reached into my blouse and pulled out Red.

“Red gets very upset if someone attacks his meal ticket.” I smiled remembering the times he had defended me when I was attacked.

“What if Red gets killed?”

“I’d die within a few days so it wouldn’t matter,” I said. “Besides, I have large, muscular c-agents trained by Major Olson as constant companions.” My smile faded. “Craig, you need to include in your training what not to do if they encounter a person infected with the Coaca Virus. They will need to know what it looks like and to notify me immediately.”

He nodded. “Because you’re the expert.”

* * *

I was beginning my third week and was starting to feel slightly comfortable with my new position. At least now all my senior people attended my weekly staff meeting, and I could talk directly to them when I had a question. In my previous position my senior people were located on the various planets and it could take days to communicate via inter-planet messages.

“Well, Martha. What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked as I sipped the coffee she had brought me.

“President Bennett wants to see you at fifteen hundred hours for an update, and of course, your staff meeting at thirteen hundred. Other than that, you are free to poke your nose wherever you want.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile.

“It’s my nature, Martha. I’m a worker bee, not a queen bee,” I said, liking the comparison. “These fancy positions are for old folks who are tired of doing and don’t mind delegating.”

Martha gave a genuine laugh of amusement. “I think you have everyone’s attention. The place is coming alive since you arrived.”

“Martha, call my security in,” I said. Since I had the morning free I thought I’d follow up on my curiosity. “Also, see if Commander Weaver at NIA headquarters is available to talk with me. This morning if possible.”

Martha went out to her desk and seconds later my current security guards, Maxine and Jerry, entered. “I thought you two had to be bored half to death by now,” I said.

“No, ma’am. Your security is never bored,” Maxine said, smiling just as Martha came back in.

“Commander Weaver said he would make himself available anytime you arrived,” Martha said.

“Maxine, can you make the necessary arrangements? I want to go the NIA Headquarters building to visit Commander Weaver, the Chief of NIA Stations,” I said, looking forward to seeing him and Commander Damon. Maxine spent several minutes on her Comm device before speaking.

“Ma’am, Colonel Ballard said he would have a shuttle and two more c-agents available in ten minutes.”

Martha notified me ten minutes later that she had been told everything was ready. I put on my jacket and exited with Maxine and Jerry falling in behind me as I headed toward the rear exit. That exit was reserved for the Core Committee and the Director of Security and had to be unlocked from the security control room. Two guards awaited us in addition to the two posted there for normal security. When I arrived, the door buzzed and one of the guards opened it. Outside, a Committee shuttle stood with the door open. I entered and took the first seat on the left. The shuttle had luxury seats, two on the right side and one on the left, and held fifteen. The seats were capable of rotating one hundred eighty degree so that four people could face each other, with enough room between rows for a table.

Jerry and Maxine had just passed me as Fred and Leo entered the cabin. Before they could close the hatch, two canisters hit the opposite wall and the shuttle door slammed shut. I shot to my feet but before I could move, Leo scooped me up and began running toward the rear of the shuttle followed by Fred. Maxine and Jerry jumped out of the way as the canisters exploded and a cloud of smoke filled the cabin. Since it wasn’t an explosive device, I concluded it was gas—again—and slipped my mini gas mask on just before I was pushed to the floor. Leo and Fred were the last to collapse, Fred to one side and Leo half on top of me. I twisted so my face was resting against Fred’s body, which hid my left hand that held the mask in place. But when I tried to pull my Sig Sauer out of the holster I couldn’t. Leo’s body weight had my right arm immobilized. I would have to push him off to free my arm, but that would require my left arm to help which was holding my mask. It was all academic when the shuttle door opened, and I could hear two men.

“Kill the woman with the snake and let’s go,” a harsh voice demanded.

“What about the snake? It’s worth a quarter million credits, maybe more,” a higher-pitched voice whined.

“All right, but hurry. We don’t have more than a couple of minutes before security notices things aren’t right.”

With one eye closed and the other squinting and partly obscured by Fred’s body, I watched a mousy little man wearing a gas mask and scraggly hair working his way over the bodies of Maxine and Jerry toward me. Looking down, he smiled, seeing Red half hanging out of my blouse and near my left arm. As he reached down over me to grab Red I estimated my Sig Sauer was pointing at his upper chest. I slowly tightened the pressure on the trigger. As he bent further, I fired. The 9 mm slug entered his upper chest, up through his throat and out the back of his head. Like a champagne cork, he exploded up and backward followed by a trail of blood which caught up to him as he hit the floor. That exposed his friend, who was standing in the aisle between the seats. I forced my body to roll slightly back to the left, which brought the weapon pointing down the aisle, and fired once, twice, and a third time. One must have scored a hit as he stumbled backward into the closed door leading to the cockpit. I guessed he was wearing a flak jack because I saw no blood, although I knew at least one bullet had hit him.

Before I could shoot again, an assault weapon appeared from the doorway and sprayed a two-second burst, shredding the leather seats, shattering the windows, and punching holes in the shuttle’s skin. The saving grace was he wasn’t looking, just spraying waist high hoping to hit someone he assumed was standing or crouching while firing at his buddy. He stopped long enough to reach in, grab the man, and pull him out. I heard more shooting and a ground vehicle racing away.

Craig was the first one in followed by Seth and three or more behind them.

“Director!” Seth’s voice shouted.

“She’s over here, Seth,” Craig said, stepping over Maxine and Jerry and pulling Leo off me. A look of horror crossed his face as he saw my jacket in shreds. I almost laughed but thought better of it.

“I think we’re all okay. They used gas so everyone was on the floor when the shooting started,” I explained as he helped me sit up. I stuffed Red back into my blouse. “Check on them, I’m fine. Just dirty and late for my appointment,” I added with a grin.

Craig stared at me for a long time then shook his head.

“Colonel Pannell was right,” Seth said, staring down at me. “Let’s get the Director and her lazy security down to the dispensary.”

* * *

“Anna, should you be in the hospital or home?” Bennett asked as I entered his office at his request after leaving the dispensary. I noticed Glaser and Scherer were also there.

“No, sir. Just a few bruises and scrapes,” I said.

“As I understand it, a group of armed men attacked you and you killed one and the others escaped,” Bennett said as he scanned me for injuries. He looked concerned.

“That is correct. I believe this confirms my suspicions that WEP is a well-funded organization, Eastar based, and would like another Director of Committee Security,” I said and Scherer snorted.

“Why do you think they are an organization and not one or two deranged individuals?” Scherer asked.

“Deranged individuals would be focused on their manifesto. Organizations are focused on the objective. Individuals would ignore me, thinking they were smarter than the organization’s security. An organization would be concerned with eliminating a potential impediment to their success. I’m quite popular with the criminal elements for having closed down several major illegal operations. I was the target. They would have taken Red for the extra money and to confuse the issue. Notice that they didn’t attack the guards. They used gas to neutralize them.”

“Are you thinking of resigning, knowing they want you dead?” Glaser asked, frowning.

“No. I knew what to expect when I agreed to take the position. This isn’t a surprise. And I don’t like change so I’m here until you fire me.”

* * *

When I walked into the conference room for my weekly staff meeting, everyone stood. I waved both hands for them to sit and my face felt like it was on fire.

“I apologize. I should have gone over the various attempts on my life so Craig could have designed a short training course for those agents assigned to protect me. It’s the reason I always carry a mini gas mask. It’s only effective for a few minutes but enough to stay awake for the fight,” I said, giving a wry smile. I took out my mask and gave it to Seth, who was sitting on my right. I spent the rest of the afternoon going over each of my assassination encounters while in the NIA. It was a fun and entertaining afternoon.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Searching for Answers

“Good morning, Director Paulus,” Commander Weaver said as I entered his office.

“Good morning, Commander Weaver. Anna, please,” I said as he rose and came around his desk to greet me.

“Anna, it's a pleasure to see you and a chance for me to thank you for recommending me to replace you.”

“To be honest, I gave Admiral Lulltrel three names,” I said, sitting when he gestured as a senior chief put down two cups of coffee.

“I know. Commander Damon told me you did the same with her, and like her, I think being third behind Sinclair and Shrader is a good showing. As you suspected, they each felt this wasn’t a good time to move. Shrader’s wife is pregnant and Sinclair will be getting married soon, and they are very comfortable managing their own stations. Besides, Commander isn’t a bad rank to put your career on hold.” He smiled. “What can I do for you, Anna?”

“I’d like your stations to do a search for me. I’m interested in knowing if any active Committee delegates have died in the past three years and if so, how. I know it’s more of a police matter, but I thought it faster to go through the NIA. They can inform the police that it’s a P1A request if they run into any trouble.”

“You’re hot on the trail of some bad guys?” he asked. “If so, I kind of feel sorry for them. I wouldn’t want you chasing me.”

“The problem I’m investigating looks like an Eastar problem. I’m trying to verify that it is before I proceed.”

“I’d be glad to help.” He laughed. “Never hurts to be on good terms with the Director of Committee Security.”

* * *

When I returned to the Committee building, Martha informed me Craig wanted to see me, so I wandered down to the training area and found him supervising a mandatory marksmanship qualification for three c-agents. When he saw me enter the outer room, he waved me in and handed me a sound-deadening headset. I stood watching as the targets were reeled into each of the shooters’ tables. Craig marked each one passed, the date, and initialed it. When they left, he turned back to me.

“Would you mind doing a demonstration for me?” he asked, looking a bit sheepish.

“Of course not, Craig. What would you like?” I asked.

“Try qualifying with your new holster,” he said, confirming what I thought.

I stepped up to one of the lanes the three had just exited, as Craig put a new target on the clip and sent it twenty-five meters down the range. I took a step closer to the table, reached my right hand under my jacket, and gripped the handle of the Sig Sauer while my left moved the other side of my jacket away from the business end of the weapon. Simultaneously, I twisted ninety degrees and fired ten times, removed the gun, ejected the round in the chamber, and stepped back. Craig reeled the target back, stared at it, and shook his head.

“You just scored better than two of the agents that were just here and tied the third. Would you mind if I examine the holster?” he asked. I shook my head as I unbuckled it and handed it to him. “Clever,” he said as he inspected it. “The thick leather belt in back protects your skin from the discharge. Why?”

I considered the question for a minute. It was actually several questions, I decided. “I thought I should conform to my group’s conventions because otherwise I would stand out as separate when in fact I’m part of the team. With my small frame, carrying my Sig in an underarm holster would make me look like a hunchback. Besides, by the time I got it out and aimed I’d probably be dead. And strapping it to my leg would make me stand out. The small of my back turned out to be the least conspicuous and the least uncomfortable. Once I had it in place, I thought it would be really fast if in an emergency I could fire it while it was in the holster. And it turned out not to require an excessive amount of practice since I’d spent long hours learning to shoot my Mfw from the waist after several assassination attempts on my life.”

“I asked because several of the c-agents have been interested and wanted to know if they could use a back holster.” He gave me a hard look.

“I leave that to you to decide, Craig.”

“Thank you. Would you mind working with me to revise our basic new-hire training?” he asked, and then grinned. “And maybe an enhanced bodyguard course. Your explanation of the assassination attempts on your life and the recent attempt has pointed out some glaring deficiencies. And you saved your security team’s lives.” The last he said rather defensively.

“No, Craig. My security team acted perfectly. If Leo hadn’t yanked me out of my front row seat and he and Fred hadn’t carried me towards the back, I would have been exposed and shot when the men entered the shuttle. Carrying me to the back hid me from the attackers’ view and forced one to come close enough for me to kill him. If your team had been carrying mini gas masks, they would have killed the assassins when they entered,” I said. “I think your training focuses on multiple assassins using brute force. That’s probably because most of you come from combat units and environments. But large criminal organizations have or hire professional assassins. They plan their attack, don’t want to die during the attempt, and therefore, can be very devious. The recent attempt on my life was a good example. They weren’t interested in a gun battle with c-agents, so they used gas to disable them, then shoot me, and leave before help could arrive.”

Craig laughed. “Seth said all the people he talked to said you had a very unorthodox style but they loved it. Most new directors come here and order us to make changes just to prove they are in charge or how much smarter they are than us. You haven’t asked us to change anything but we are all making the changes you want made. I’ll bet by the end of a year we will have convinced ourselves they were our ideas.” He waved a hand. “I like your style, ma’am. But if these changes had been your ideas I would have fought them.” He was still laughing when I left the room.

* * *

“You know, Director, you are entitled to an aide-de-camp,” Seth said several days later. Most mornings he joined Martha and me for a review of the day’s agenda. I smiled thinking of Lieutenant Banner when I became an admiral and was first entitled to an aide.

“I took on a young lieutenant.” I smiled at the thought. “He was almost my age at the time. I hired him because admirals are supposed to have one and because he thought he could benefit working for me. And in the end, he claimed he did benefit. He was excellent but just made my day more boring since he did things I would have done,” I said, thinking that although that was mostly true, David had been helpful.

Seth and Martha laughed.

“You do seem to have a lot of nervous energy, Anna,” Seth said. “I can’t remember a director who has been as active or directly involved…and yet not in an obtrusive way which is normally the case when directors do get involved. I’ll bet there are several women c-agents who would like to be your aide for the same reason as that lieutenant. It’s a style issue. We all thought the security team with you failed—you thought they acted exceptionally well. That boosted morale a hundred percent and solidified you as a member of the c-team not, just its director.”

* * *

“Mother, did you used to shout at your people when they screwed up?” I asked that night as we sat eating.

“On occasion. It’s sort of traditional. But I preferred to do it in private as it’s more effective. But from what I’ve heard your softer approach gets results.”

“You’ve never even talked harshly to me.”

“You’re the perfect daughter, although you do attend a lot of wild parties.” She snorted. “Besides, I think frowning at you would be more effective than screaming.” She leaned over and hugged me. Characteristically, Red ignored her nearness, except for a flicked tongue against her cheek.

“I’ve caused you so much worry and stress…”

“Anna, you’re the joy of my life. I’ve never regretted adopting you. The worry and stress are just the normal part of being a mother and are far outweighed by how proud I am of you.”

Later while relaxing on the sofa in our living room, I pondered the timing of the assassination attempt. From the time I told my security I wanted to go to the NIA headquarters building until we boarded the shuttle, less than twenty minutes had elapsed. Twenty-five if I count from Martha’s call to Commander Weaver’s office. Intriguing, I mused. For a team of assassins to respond that quickly, they would have had:

1. The team assembled and on ten-minute availability.

2. A plan of attack developed.

3. A car loaded with the equipment they would need.

4. A place close enough to arrive within five minutes of being notified.

5. Access to and from the Committee compound.

6. A method of being notified within ten minutes of my decision to go somewhere.

Looking at my list raised very disturbing implications. This assassination attempt was not hurriedly put together but a carefully planned attack. The group had connections within the Committee organization, well-funded, organized, and didn’t like me. Red agreed since after I finished the list, he slid off my forehead and settled down within my nightdress.

“You’re awful quiet, Daughter. Concerned about the attempted…attack?”

“Not the attack directly—the bread crumbs they left.” I grinned. “In a way, the attack was a good thing, especially since no one got killed—no good guys. I can’t catch them unless they continue to make their presence known, because each event produces bread crumbs which will eventually lead us to them.”

“What about the one you killed?” Alexa asked.

I shook my head. “Hired help with a criminal record longer than his leg. Actually, a good choice since it made the attack appear as if the thieves were after Red. Even if I hadn’t heard one of the men tell the one I shot to kill me, I would have to be brain dead to believe they were after Red. The attack was too well organized, funded, and risky for such a small return.” A look at Alexa’s worried face made my heart pound against my chest—I was causing her more worry and stress. “Mother, the c-agents’ response saved my life. And now that they know more about assassins, they won’t be caught off guard again.” I hoped that thought would ease her concern, if only a little.

“What about Red?”

“The lazy bugger slept through the whole event. Well, maybe he did help. He didn’t strike Leo when he jerked me out of my seat or Fred as they carried me to the back of the shuttle.”

Alexa laughed quietly and seemed to relax.

* * *

Four days later, Weaver informed me he had the results back from the NIA stations. He offered to come to the Committee building but I declined the offer. Staff Sergeant Leo Fields was again the team leader as we left the building.

“Ma’am, we would like you to sit in the middle of the shuttle if you don’t mind,” he said and quickly added, “New rules from Colonel Ballard.”

“No problem, Sergeant Fields, I’m for any procedures that provide the best security for you and me.”

“Thank you for what you said to Major Olson,” he said sheepishly. I imagined Fields had initially felt he had somehow failed me during the assassination attempt.

“I told him nothing but the truth. You and your team saved my life with your quick thinking. Stopping a well-organized assassination requires a team effort. You did your part so I could help.” I smiled. “We know we did a damn good job because we're all alive and they aren’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He beamed a teeth-flashing smile as he waved me into the waiting shuttle, which Maxine had already inspected. The ride was short and we landed on the top of the Headquarters building.

“Leo, how did we get access to use the roof?” I asked. I knew there was roof access for a shuttle or skimmer but thought the access was for very senior officers or VIPs.

“Ma’am, you’re the Director of UAS Committee Security. You’re definitely one of the top ten most powerful individuals in the Alliance, probably number four since there are currently three Core members,” Leo said, looking amused. “You didn’t know, or care?”

“Leo, I don’t like promotions. They lead to strange new environments I have to adjust to, increased responsibility before I’m ready, and more pomp and ceremony than I’m comfortable with,” I said, hating I sounded like I was whining, which I was. He laughed.

“Ma’am, you have everyone fooled,” he said while scanning the area. He led me toward two guards standing by a metal sliding door which I realized opened to an elevator. After inspecting my badge, the guards inserted a code into a key pad and the elevator door opened. I smiled when I saw the lowest numbered button was level eighteen—the lowest floor with admirals.

When the door opened, Commander Weaver was waiting. “Welcome, Director Paulus, do you mind if we meet in Admiral Lulltrel’s office?”

“No. I’d love to see Admiral Lulltrel. I know it’s only been a few weeks but it seems like years,” I said, pleased with the idea. When we arrived, Commander Spalding, her aide, smiled and held out his hand.

“Congratulations, Director Paulus. NIA isn’t quite as exciting since you left. Go on in, the admiral is expecting you.”

When I entered she was standing, and I almost braced to attention and saluted. Seeing her smile, I walked up to her and gave her a hug. She had been my superior but also a dear friend.

“I always wanted to do that,” I said, glad I had.

“Thank you, Anna. I’ve always thought you special like a daughter—well, except that time you had me investigated.” She laughed and held me by the shoulders at arms’ length. “You look good. Have a seat, there is coffee coming. I hear there was an assassination attempt on you.”

“Someone doesn’t like me being the Director of Committee Security,” I said.

“Someone smart enough to know he’d rather someone else was chasing him. Who are you chasing?” she asked as she and Weaver sat.

“Not sure. Someone is killing Committee delegates—a group probably. They claim to have an agenda and want the Alliance agreement modified. I think it’s a ruse. I hope you don’t mind me using the NIA to investigate.”

Lulltrel surprised me by laughing. “You really don’t understand, do you, Anna,” she said but it wasn’t a question, more a statement of fact. “Your old team had a unique policy, if a team member wanted to do something, the team member got to do it. Every senior officer thought that a stupid rule because by tradition the team leader decided on the team’s priorities, not the individual members. You have finally reached a position where what Anna wants, Anna gets. Only the Core Committee can say no to you.”

I sat stunned. I knew I had permanent P1A authority, which gave me a lot of authority if I wished to exercise it, but I didn’t consider my position as Director meant I had the implied backing of the Core Committee.

“So, Director Paulus, the NIA will be delighted to help you.” She smiled. “We would anyway, Anna.”

“Thank you—”

“Sharon,” Lulltrel said, interrupting me. “Now that you are a civilian and we have long been friends, we can dispense with formalities in private.”

“Thank you…Sharon.”

Fortunately, Weaver filled my awkward silence. “The stations have reported four delegates’ deaths over the past two years.” He opened his tablet and after a few clicks a chart appeared on the wall monitor.

Name

System

Cause of death

Erik Chapman

New Zheng

Vehicle accident

Julia Butler

Sutan

Drowning

Kevin Reynolds

Oasis

Robbery

Owen McDonald

Black Water

Vehicle accident

“I’d like an in-depth investigation into their deaths. They are to understand this is a P1A query by”—I smiled and had the urge to giggle—“the Director of UAS Committee Security.”

After another hour talking about old times, I returned to my office. I think my security was relieved to get me back there. I sat thinking about what Lulltrel had said and wasn’t sure how I felt having that much power and the responsibility that went with it. I loved chasing bad guys and destroying their clever schemes but had never sought or wanted power. I liked being part of the team, not its leader.

Just then Red emerged from my jacket and wound around my arm, and I suddenly had an image of the Rod of Asclepius. Maybe that was Red and me—snake and rod—healing the wounds caused by evil people. I pulled my arm close and kissed Red, feeling a sense of agreement, peace.

CHAPTER EIGHT

UnCab: A New Approach

“What went wrong, Maria?” Harold asked as the four met again at his upcountry estate.

“That cat definitely has nine lives. My two survivors claim everything went off as planned but somehow one person managed to survive the sleeping gas, to kill one of the two who entered to kill her, and to wound the other,” Maria said. Harold wasn’t sure if the look on Maria’s face was respect for the Paulus girl or the anticipation of killing her—probably both. “It doesn’t matter,” Maria added. “I have a mole on the inside of her organization so I’ll know her movements in advance. Worst case, I’ll have the mole kill her.”

“Good. Because from what I hear she isn’t falling for the manifesto gambit. She has good instincts and is potentially a real threat,” Ryan said. “It wouldn’t take much to derail the whole plan.”

“I agree,” Harold said and looked to Maria, who looked like the kind of girl a man could bring home to meet his mother. She looked like easy prey, but he wouldn’t have wanted to take her on with less than four bodyguards. Maria had never served in a military unit but rumor had it she was a freelance fixer for underworld crime syndicates. She was obviously well informed and connected, and for that reason he had used her on a couple of his off-the-books operations.

“I just learned of an opportunity which may work better than assassins. The Coaca Virus is apparently active again, although not widespread. That may be a double-edged sword we can use to either kill her or taint her value.” Maria was speaking but her mind was elsewhere. “That krait of hers is her Achilles’ heel.”

CHAPTER NINE

Shades of the Past

My earbud squealed in my ear, bolting me to my feet. At Seth’s insistence, I had begun wearing one. It not only allowed me to tune into all of the department channels but also to each c-agent’s individual channel and them to my channel. I hadn’t seen the reason at the time, since they could always contact me through my tablet, or through Martha, but I knew it made me an integral part of the team in their eyes and special. Directors, like admirals, while in charge, weren’t considered part of the working team—not one of the troops.

Following the squeal, I heard someone’s near panicked voice, “Director, there are three men with Mfws shouting to see you. They have blisters on their faces.” He had hit the emergency channel so every c-agent could hear him.

“C-agents, this is Director Paulus. Do not engage those men unless they begin shooting at you or someone. They have the Coaca Virus and shooting them will contaminate the area. No one should get within four meters of them. Tell them I’m on my way.” I ran as I spoke. “Seth, call Doctor Renata at Mercy Hospital and tell her the situation here.”

When I reached the lobby, three men stood with Mfws just outside the entrance lanes and at least fifteen c-agents stood, weapons drawn and pointing in their direction. I raised my hand in a Stop gesture as I approached the security lanes. Red had exited my jacket and wound around my neck with his head on my shoulder, watching the three men.

“I’m Director Paulus,” I said as I swiped my ID through the card reader to avoid setting off the alarm and walked through security lane one, drawing the three men to the far side of the lobby and away from the information counters.

“Give us that snake and we’ll leave, or else we are going to contaminate this whole building,” a small squat man said as his Mfw swung in my direction. Of course, they couldn’t contaminate the whole building but certainly the lobby, especially if shooting started and their blood and flesh were splattered on walls and floors. That could be cleaned up but it increased the chance of one or more individuals getting infected if we overlooked one tiny piece of matter, who would then spread the virus to c-agents, staff, and delegates, who could then take it to their systems…the nightmare of all nightmare scenarios.

The face of the man who was speaking looked scared and hard under the brown blisters. The other men also looked comfortable with the Mfws they were holding. Not your average citizens, I mused while evaluating the three.

“If I give you this snake, I’ll die,” I said while moving slowly toward the far wall and the entrance to the building. “Lock down the delegates, Core group, conference rooms, stop everyone from entering the Committee compound and from entering this facility,” I said into my mic.

“What are you doing?” the hard-faced man shouted.

“Keeping twenty c-agents from blowing you to pieces.” I smiled.

“And you'll die along with us,” he growled as all three Mfws swung in my direction.

“We have a dilemma,” I said. “If I give you my red-headed friend, you, your two friends, me, and my red-headed friend will die within the week.”

“Bull crap!”

“Oh, you’re an expert on red-headed kraits. Yes, bull crap. Why do you think I’m the only person with my own krait?” Alternatives raced through my head. I could give them Red and assume he would kill all three like he did with the man who had managed to knock me unconscious and steal him…but did he have enough poison to kill all three before they left and took him to only the space gods knew where? And if one died after being struck by him, would they just kill him? And even if he got away, what were the chances of me finding him before I died of the virus? Too many unknowns. I had to get them to take me with them.

“Because you’re a high muckety-muck.”

“Shows you what you know. This krait found me when I was four years old dying of the Coaca Virus. He lives off my blood. In the hospital they tried sharing him with other patients but they found he couldn’t live off anyone else’s blood.”

“Lying bitch,” hard-face screamed. “Give me that snake.”

“Can you take a transfusion from just anyone?” I asked, trying to sneer. “This krait found me because I had something in my blood that attracts him. So, the government lets me keep him since he wasn’t fit for sharing. I’ve had him for thirty years. Long before I became a high muckety-muck. So, it’s me and the krait or you are going to die of the virus with or without the krait.”

“You’re a bit old for my taste, but you’d be better than nothing,” hard-face said as he walked up to me and grabbed my arm.

“Let them take me. That’s an order,” I said into my mic. Hard-face smiled and pulled me in the direction of the entrance. “Do you have a vehicle?” I asked, wondering how they got here and hoping it wasn’t by public transportation.

“Think we walked, bitch?” he growled. “We have a skimmer.” His head jerked toward a black skimmer just outside the entrance. As we walked, I decided the two sidekicks were bodyguards whom hard-face had probably infected, since they weren’t speaking, were following hard-face’s direction, and hard-face looked to be in stage four whereas the other two looked to be in stage two. At the skimmer, he entered the pilot’s side while the bodyguards started to put me in the back, which could seat four.

“Put me up front with you,” I said. “I’ll have the krait give you a treatment before you take off. Wouldn’t want you dying while we were airborne,” I said in a concerned-sounding voice, which wasn’t hard considering the situation. I needed to contain these three as soon as I could. Only the space gods knew how many people this moron had come in contact with.

Hard-face smiled and nodded to his two henchmen. When we were in and the doors shut, I stretched out my arm and placed my hand on hard-face’s shoulder. As I knew he would, Red wound his way onto hard-face’s shoulder and proceeded to strike him in the neck.

“Ouch! Shit, that hurt!”

“The price of keeping the virus dormant,” I said, knowing Red had just given him a lethal dose of krait poison. As I watched his face begin to turn dark purple, I reached in and pulled out my Sig Sauer and turned to see the bodyguards staring wide-eyed at hard-face. I shot the one who began to frown as if he understood something wasn’t right, and then I shot the other man, who was looking about to be sick.

“This is Director Paulus. I’m fine. Everyone is to stay in place until Doctor Renata arrives and inspects the facility. Seth, make sure no one enters the lobby or enters the hallways if they are in the lobby now,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Seth replied.

I looked over to hard-face, whose head was hanging lose on his chest, scooped up Red, and pulled him to my lips.

“Someday, I wish you would say something,” I muttered, knowing the tiny head held a supersize brain. I knew he could read and solve puzzles and sense trouble and others’ emotions by his actions over the past thirty years. Instead, his tongue flicked against my nose. “All right, Red. Another day when you are up for it.” I snorted and got another lick.

Five minutes later medical vans began arriving. When I saw Renata get out of the first van, I shouted, “Doctor Renata,” and waved out the open window. She came running over to the skimmer.

“A Colonel McKenzie called and said you told him to call and that you had individuals in the building with the Coaca Virus,” Renata said in a rush. She and everyone with her were dressed in Level A Tychem Suits with SCBA units attached.

“These three…individuals…” I refrained from saying psychopaths. Who knew what average people were capable of doing if faced with an opportunity to save their or their loved ones’ lives. “…entered the Committee lobby and demanded I give Red to them. So, the lobby is infested, possibly a few individuals, this skimmer, and whoever these three came in contact with.”

“And you,” she smiled. “Get yourself over to the last van. It’s a decontamination unit.” She pointed to the van and began walking toward the entrance to the Committee building lobby. Twenty minutes later, dressed in pink hospital scrubs and booties, I entered the rear door of the domed building and made my way to the Core group’s offices, where the three had been sequestered in Bennett’s office.

“What’s the situation?” Bennett half shouted as soon as I walked in the room.

I held up my hand. “It’s under control. Let me get a cup of coffee, and I’ll explain everything,” I walked over to his sidebar, mixed my coffee and milk concoction, and sat. I felt physically and mentally exhausted.

“Sorry,” I began. “Three men entered the Committee building…” I went on to explain, between multiple interruptions, the events of the morning.

“They came to get you?” Glaser asked, sounding angry.

“Yes, it’s one of the disadvantages of having me. And I’ll understand if you would like me to resign. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last,” I said, not really caring whether or not they wanted my resignation, although I was beginning to like the job and the people.

“You’re a dangerous—” Glaser began to say but was interrupted by Scherer.

“This is not the time to make that decision. I suggest we wait to see the outcome of this…event before we decide on what action to take. In the meantime, Anna can take a day or two off while we decide.”

“I agree,” Bennett said, sounding relieved.

* * *

“You’re home early, Daughter. Run out of work or just bored?” Alexa said as she closed the door and saw me sitting in the living room listening to a Black Water composer whose music I found relaxing. It was played by a full orchestra, and I could imagine hiking in a wilderness—the wind rustling through the trees, water gurgling in a nearby stream, raindrops dripping on the leaves, and birds chirping in the background.

“No, I think I may be fired. Well, asked to resign,” I said, not sure how I felt about being fired. I was beginning to like the assignment.

“Why? I thought everything was going well. The assassination attempt?” Alexa asked.

That took me by surprise. I hadn’t considered that the second incident might have been another assassination attempt.

“Maybe indirectly. Three men entered the Committee lobby with Mfws and the Coaca Virus looking for me…” I went on to explain what happened.

“The Coaca virus would worry anyone and inside the Committee building would be even worse,” Alexa said softly, obviously considering the potential ramifications. “I can understand their concern. What will you do if they do ask you to resign?” Now Alexa’s voice was full of concern.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Mother,” I said. I hadn’t given it much thought. I unwrapped Red from around my neck and held him in front of my face. “What do you think?” I asked and stared hard at his little red head. Of course, he didn’t do or say anything. “I’m waiting,” I said, willing him to do something. Nothing. I set him on my shoulder, and he disappeared into my blouse. “Neither Red nor I have a clue. I can’t go back to the NIA as they have no open positions. Webb said he’d find something for me but what? I’m not a tactical officer… I have the training to be a lieutenant, but I’m a damn two-star admiral. He and General Guzman may be willing to give me a desk job, but I’d be bored to tears. Maybe Red and I could start our own security business. The only problem with that is I’d need more security than any client who would hire me. Not very profitable if half of my workforce is protecting me.”

Alexa put her arm around me and pulled me close. “You’re future surfing, Daughter. Let’s address the real problems as they come up. Now tell me more about the three men with the Coaca Virus.”

* * *

Three days passed without a word from the Core Committee group. Doctor Renata did stop in the next day to see how I was doing and updated me on the cleanup at the Committee Compound—no one appeared to have been infected. Mr. Hard-face had been a well-known criminal and to the police’s delight the vast majority of his contacts had been his crew and a few other criminals. Of course, several women who hung around with him and his mates had contracted the virus. But all in all, what everyone considered collateral damage was minimal for a Coaca Virus outbreak. Renata gave me a lot of credit for nipping the outbreak in the bud early. If I did, it was by accident.

On the fourth day, Martha notified me I had an appointment with the Core Committee at thirteen hundred hours. When I arrived I got smiles, thumbs-up gestures, and cheerful greetings as I made my way to my office. Martha and Seth were there to meet me.

“The place seemed like a morgue with you gone, Director Paulus,” Martha said, using my title rather than the usual Anna.

“Martha’s right. Everyone agrees you prevented a major catastrophe with your quick thinking and at considerable risk to your life.”

“But the reason they were here was to find me,” I said, knowing that was what the Core group would be thinking. If I weren’t here…

“President Bennett had a meeting with all of your senior people and to a person we gave you our unconditional support,” Seth said. “No one wants you to leave, which when you consider you’ve been with us less than a month that’s quite a compliment.”

“Thank you, Seth, and thank the others for me. I’ve become fond of each of you,” I said, not sure their support would mean much to the Core group. They had larger issues to be concerned about.

Just then Red wound into my hair and a minute later his red head thumped against my forehead. A definite message, but what?

“That’s eerie,” Martha said, pointing at Red.

“Red looks…eager,” Seth said and ironically I got the same feeling.

“Me too,” I said, straightening my jacket and marching out of my office toward the Core group’s offices with my security following. When I arrived, I was issued in immediately. Bennett sat behind his massive curved desk, Glaser and Scherer sitting in their normal places. Bennett waved me to an empty chair. No one was smiling.

“I had nightmares when I considered the potential disaster this incident could have caused,” President Bennett said. “Not only affecting the delegates on Eastar but spreading the virus to all the other systems. Then I had to consider whether any person was worth that risk. Mrs. Scherer and Mr. Glaser had similar concerns. The three of us appreciate your problem-solving ability so we examined alternatives. We considered making you a separate department with your own building and security agents or returning you to the NIA and letting you work under their umbrella. We have spent countless hours discussing the issue as well as talking with Admirals Webb and Lulltrel, General Guzman, Colonel Pannell, Doctor Renata, and the senior Committee security staff.” He paused for a sip of coffee while staring at me. While he talked, Red had wound himself into my hair and his head lay on my forehead. It helped to relaxed me and reminded me I had him, Alexa, and a good life no matter the outcome.

“Doctor Renata and your security agree that without your actions, which included risking your life, the incident would have been a disaster,” Bennett continued. “We, the Core Committee, agree you present an added risk, but the Coaca Virus isn’t going away and there is no guarantee that individuals with the virus won’t try to enter the Committee facility for reasons other than you. Fortunately, the threat is only present when there is a Coaca outbreak on Eastar. In that event, you’re the best person to handle it. To minimize a similar occurrence, we have removed your name from all reports on the incident: Coaca response team, our security evaluation, and news reports. The three individuals are being listed as terrorists who were killed trying to enter the building. We hope that reduces the number of people who know you have a red-headed krait, it’s a potential cure, and that you work here.” He snorted and nodded to Scherer, who rose and waved for me to rise.

“Director Paulus, the Committee is pleased to award you the UAS Committee’s Medal of Valor for risking your life for the safety of the Committee’s personnel. Congratulations, Director.” She handed me an open velvet-lined box with a ribbon with the UAS colors and a gold medal with the UAS seal.

“Thank you,” I said weakly as relief washed over me.

Bennett and the others stood and clapped. I blushed.

“Thank you,” I said again and decided to divert the focus from me. “I have a tentative update on the murders, if you have time.” When Bennett nodded I continued. “The NIA stations have identified the deaths of four delegates over the past year. I’m having them investigate the deaths. I believe we might have a group of political assassins.”

“Political assassins?” Bennett said, indicating he wasn’t sure he understood.

“Yes, a group offering to ensure your candidate wins the seat under contention. For example, Mr. A and Mr. B are in contention for position X. Mr. A is the frontrunner but you want Mr. B… What would that be worth to you to ensure Mr. A died prematurely—accident, heart attack, robbery gone bad…”

“You’re serious?” Bennett asked. “What about the WEP manifesto?”

“I believe the manifesto is a cover for a very lucrative business. The right candidate can be worth a fortune to specific businesses and power for special interest groups.”

CHAPTER TEN

Aide-de-camp

“Good morning, Martha, do you have anything to keep me busy today?” I said as I entered the reception area for my office. She rose smiling as I continued into my office. It felt like heavy weights had been lifted off my shoulders. I would have missed being the Director of Committee Security. I hadn’t realized how fast I had acclimated to the people and job or how important it was to me. Seth followed Martha and closed the door.

“Welcome back, Director Paulus,” Seth said. “I was hoping President Bennett and the Core members weren’t going to do something rash in a knee-jerk reaction to the Coaca Virus incident. If the situation had been left to us to handle, the space gods only knew what would have happened. None of us thought we’d see you alive when you left with them.”

“I think we need a class on what to do if a c-agent thinks he or she has someone with the Coaca Virus. If you have to shoot them, hopefully you can get them in a closed room or isolated space. The virus is very contagious and it can remain active in body matter or fluids for days. That includes a dead person.”

“I’ll coordinate with Martha and set up a schedule.” He typed himself a note before looking up.

“Good. Seth, can you get me a dossier on each of the murdered delegates and the Committee issues on the table at the time of their deaths? NIA has identified four delegates who died on their home system. I’m having them do an in-depth investigation into their deaths. I believe we may have a group of political assassins,” I said, thinking if we could deduce the issues that got them targeted we may be a step closer to finding the organization behind the murders. If not, then maybe the most likely future targets.

* * *

Over the next three weeks the results began coming in. Commander Weaver at NIA reported that investigations into the four delegates found:

1. The vehicle accident of Erik Chapman on New Zheng was considered suspicious but not conclusively a murder.

2. The drowning of Julia Butler on Sutan was found on reexamination to have been murder. The water in her lungs didn’t match the lake water she drowned in.

3. The robbery-gone-wrong death of Kevin Reynolds on Oasis was on reexamination considered suspicious but not conclusive. The knife wound was too precise to have happened by accident and the victim didn’t appear to have put up a struggle.

4. The vehicle accident on Black Water that resulted in the death of Owen McDonald was determined to have been mechanical failure of the brakes. A leak in the brake cylinder appeared to have been due to road damage—a small stone or stones.

If I were correct in my assumption that a political assassination scheme existed, then all four delegate deaths were murders. However, the assassinations on the delegates’ home planets were intended to look like accidents while the deaths of the delegates on Eastar were meant to look like murders. Did that mean the three deaths on Eastar weren’t linked to the four on the delegates’ systems? Of course, it was possible the three on Eastar were linked to the manifesto and the four on the individual systems isolated events, but I didn’t think that the case. However, if I were wrong, I could waste months chasing ghosts.

I laughed. I’d love to visit each of the four systems and poke my nose into each case. As the Chief of NIA Station, it was easy to justify a trip to the stations but not so easy as the Director of Committee Security. My responsibility was here on Eastar. I had to admit that I loved visiting the various systems and chasing criminals, which made me question my motives and conclusions. I went home with a splitting headache.

* * *

“You seem lost in thought, Anna,” Alexa said as we retired to the living room. “Even Red is subdued.”

“I have this picture puzzle. It’s a murder scene, and I have two jigsaw pieces remaining. One looks like it fits but doesn’t complete the puzzle I’m working on while the other doesn’t fit but it appears to complete the puzzle. And either Red isn’t interested in the puzzle or doesn’t understand the problem or is disgusted because it’s so obvious I should know the answer.” I put my head in my hands.

“I think I understand,” Alexa said, frowning. “You don’t want to insert the pieces that fit because it doesn’t complete the picture, and you don’t want to hammer the piece in that doesn’t fit although it appears to complete the picture. Perhaps you need a new picture.”

* * *

At work the next day, I pondered what my mother had said—that I needed a new picture—so I examined each of the seven delegates. Those murdered on Eastar did shift the balance of power—two were from the major party and one from the minority. But what did one vote out of fifteen matter unless it changed the existing balance of power? At the time, majority party had nine and the minority had five. The deaths made it eight and six but that could change as the impacted systems would be sending new delegates. And the murders at each system gave me a headache as each delegation comprised five members although they had only one vote in Committee. I needed help, so I walked down to the Core group area. I noticed that Bennett’s and Glaser’s areas had no guards, indicating that they were out. I shrugged and walked over to Scherer’s secretary, a good-looking middle-aged man. He smiled.

“Good morning, Director Paulus. Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Daron,” I said after glancing at the name plate at the edge of his rather large wooden desk, which was neat, two wooden trays, one empty and the other with only a few folders, a tablet, and in front of him an open folder which he closed. “I wonder if I could make an appointment with Mrs. Scherer?”

He picked up his tablet, typed for a minute, stopped and watched the screen, and then looked up. “Director, she’ll see you now. Go right in.”

“Thank you, Daron,” I said as I walked past him, knocked once on the door, and entered. For a moment I almost braced to attention for a salute, stopping halfway in. “Good morning, Majority Leader Scherer, thank you for seeing me.”

“Mrs. Scherer will do unless it’s a formal occasion. Actually, I’ve wanted to have a private chat with you. Normally, I would have done it while you were getting adjusted. But you seemed to have skipped the settling in stage and gone into the reorganizing stage and I didn’t want to interrupt your momentum.” She paused, waiting for my response while she studied me.

“Ma’am, I don’t think I’ve reorganized anything,” I said cautiously, while trying to think what she could be referring to.

She laughed. “That’s probably what most of your senior people would say, but they are all doing things differently. New directors generally spend months preening and strutting before they decide they need to put their stamp on the organization and start ordering cosmetic changes.” She shook her head. “Anna, get something to drink, then sit and relax. I’m not the wicked witch everyone says I am.” She snorted and pointed to a sidebar loaded with a wide variety of options from water to liquor. I walked over and poured coffee and milk in equal parts into a delicate mug decorated with brown branches and small red flowers. Then I sat in one of the two violet-colored padded armchairs in front of her desk. She rose and joined me, sitting in the second chair. “Well, Anna, what can I do for you?” She cocked her head slightly in a sign of interest.

“I’ve reviewed the three delegates murdered here on Eastar and gotten the NIA to investigate four delegate deaths on their respective planets—”

“I thought those were accidents,” she interrupted.

“They were listed as accidents. But I had NIA reexamine the incidents—”

“Why?” she interjected, and a slight grin flickered across her lips for a second.

“I felt they might be connected. The results were a bit ambiguous but the NIA found all suspicious and two very likely murders.” I paused for her comments, although she appeared to prefer to interrupt. I smiled mentally when she nodded to continue. “I decided I needed to understand how the delegates are selected and how the Committee works.”

“The number of political parties varies over time. Right now, there are five: Conservatives, Independents, Liberals, Socialists, and Expansionists. The Majority Leader, that’s me for now, is the leader of the largest group, which can be one party or two or more parties which have banded together. Today, the majority party is composed of Conservatives, Independents, and Expansionists. The minority party is comprised of the Liberals and Socialists.” She continued when I nodded. “Each system is allowed five delegates to represent them on the Committee but each system must vote as a unit. So, in a sense, the systems work like the Committee with the majority party having the vote. Clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. So, killing a delegate on Eastar and killing a delegate on his or her system is technically the same?” I asked.

“In the short run, the outcome could be different. If the system had as a group split three Independents and two Liberals and an Independent was killed, then the unit would be neutralized and would have to return home. That may just mean a replacement or an entirely new group depending upon the system. If a Liberal was killed, then the unit could still vote. On the home system, one member could make the difference in which is the majority group sent to the Committee.” She tapped her fingers on the exposed wooden part of the armrest for several moments, then smiled. “That’s why you will be director until Bennett and I retire. We see the box—a threat to the delegates—while you see the room the box is in—the threat to the Committee.”

* * *

Back in my office I sat pondering what Scherer had told me and realized I needed more information. I clicked on Martha’s icon. A minute later I heard a knock and Martha opened the door and entered.

“Yes, Anna?”

“Martha, get Seth. I need Seth’s and your advice,” I said and Martha exited as quickly as she had entered. Less than five minutes later, a knock, and Seth and Martha entered.

“What’s up, Anna?” Seth said as the he took the seat I waved at.

“You said I was authorized an aide-de-camp,” I said and when Seth nodded I continued. “I want you and Martha involved but I don’t want my queries to interfere with your workload or your duties. And although I’d like to be involved in the investigation, I think it’s important I continue to stay focused on my day-to-day duties.” I gave a wry smile. “Not that the organization won’t function without me but for those unexpected emergencies.”

“Before you came, I would have said the directors interfered more than they helped in running the organization. Their priorities were political more often than not. Consequently, we frequently had our hands tied because of some perceived political ramification. And their changes were cosmetic at best or a waste of time or manpower.” His voice had turned angry toward the end. “Sorry, we’ve had too many in the position that thought they knew more than everyone under them. You’ve been a breath of fresh air. You’re the first director that probably does know more than everyone under you, yet you never give that impression. So, I’d prefer you stay close and involved and let others do the grunt work.”

“Thank you. How do I go about getting an aide-de-camp and where from?” I asked. Chief Stamm had arranged it last time.

“I’d prefer you hire an existing employee, Anna. I think you were very wise not to have brought anyone from NIA or your old security with you. That must have been hard but I think it would have made you and them outsiders. Something you may not have been able to overcome.”

“I’ll leave it to you,” I said, grateful for him to worry about the problem. I needed to worry about the Political Assassins for Hire—their organizational structure, methodology, and weaknesses. To do that I needed information. For the first time in weeks, I left work on time.

* * *

“Good morning, Anna,” Martha said with a twitch of her lip as she entered the office. “Seth has three people who would like to apply for your aide-de-camp position.”

“Good morning, Martha. Does that wait until she sees this amusement you’re barely able to contain mean I should finish my coffee before I see the list or I should have two cups before I see it?”

“I guess it depends on what you were expecting,” she said, making no attempt to hide her grin.

“I was expecting a short list of people…” I paused, not sure what I had expected. “It isn’t a position that most people would want. Technically, it’s a fetch and carry position that varies greatly on the hiring person.” When I shrugged, Martha handed me the list. It had three names, all women.

“I guess the men don’t like to fetch and carry.” Martha smiled. “I felt you were in a rush, so I’ve scheduled them starting as soon as you are ready. I’ve sent a brief synopsis of their experience and work history to your tablet.”

“Thank you, Martha. Send the first one in.”

Martha opened the door and waved for someone to enter. When a woman walked in, Martha exited, shutting the door behind her. The woman was a c-agent I had seen but never talked to. She was taller than the average woman, looked strong, and was dark skinned. Her black hair was curly and cut short, accenting her square face and giving her a dangerous vibe.

“Good morning, ma’am, I’m Corporal Howe. I’m here to apply for the aide-de-camp position you have open.”

“Good morning, Howe. If you’d like something to drink, help yourself and then have a seat,” I said, waving to the sidebar. She shook her head and sat, looking full of confidence.

“Why do you want to be my aide, Howe?” I asked. Last time during the interview for the position I got a lot of strange replies that had little to do with the position. One thought it an easy assignment to finish the last two years of his six-year commitment. The other thought he would meet high-level people who could help his career. I wondered what I’d get this time.

“I think it would be exciting to be your personal bodyguard,” she said, eyes bright with excitement. I wasn’t surprised as she was a c-agent and obviously craved action and excitement—not to mention glory.

“An aide-de-camp is a strange position in any organization in that it’s defined by the person you’re working for. For some you are a status symbol, there to fetch and carry but mostly a symbol of the person’s rank. In others there are tasks they want done that they don’t want to be bothered with. In my case, I need a personal secretary. Martha is excellent, but I can’t have her running here and there. It’s important she be at her desk when people want my location or time. Consequently, the chances of you seeing action with me are lower because most of the time you’ll be off doing things for me.”

“I’m not sure I’m suited for that type of work, ma’am,” she said, frowning at the idea.

“Most with your experience and background wouldn’t be. And that’s the reason I try to make sure each candidate understands what I need.” We talked for a while about her assignments as a c-agent and how it was ninety-nine percent boring and one percent heart-pounding excitement.

The next candidate was a Corporal Robin Oliver. She too had a sturdy build but stood only slightly above average height. She had brown hair cut just over the ears, and a round friendly face, but penetrating eyes. Like Howe, she had military experience and spent a few years as a mercenary before joining Committee Security. And like Howe, she thought the position personal security, which based on my recent assassination attempt sounded exciting. I repeated my explanation of what the position entailed. She too was disappointed but liked the idea of working for the director.

The third and last candidate I recognized as she entered the office.

“Ma’am, Sergeant Maxine Landon. I’m interested in applying for the aide-de-camp position,” she said, bracing to attention. Her eyes were bright, her angular face framed by dark brown curly hair that didn’t look like it had ever seen a comb it couldn’t defeat. Her lip twitched although her face remained neutral.

“Get yourself something to drink, then sit and tell me why you want to be my aide-de-camp,” I said. Maxine had been on my security detail frequently and I liked her. Serious on the job but friendly and easygoing when I met her in the training area.

“I’d like to be able to observe you up close. I’ve been here long enough to observe several directors. They huff and puff but in reality, the senior c-agents ignore them. You, on the other hand, are quiet and don’t ask them to do anything, yet you have them transforming Committee Security. Someday I hope to be in a position of senior management and think time with you will be beneficial,” she said, holding my gaze.

“You understand that you’ll be running errands for me, some fetching and carrying, and maybe travel,” I said to make sure she understood the job wasn’t as a bodyguard, with few to no glamorous duties.

“Yes, ma’am. I serve at your pleasure,” she snapped.

I laughed. “That was very smart, Maxine, talking to Master Chief Stamm.”

“We talked for over an hour. He misses you, ma’am.” She nodded to emphasize the statement.

“I miss him. He made my life much easier. I had no experience at being a senior-level officer and didn’t have a clue which end was up.” I paused for a minute and then smiled. “The first thing you need to know is that I like my coffee half coffee and half milk.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How long is the position?”

“It starts as soon as Colonel Ballard can release you and lasts until you grow tired of me.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A Few More Women Would Help

“Good morning, Anna,” Martha said as she entered with a smiling Maxine.

“That was quick, Maxine,” I said, having thought it would take Ballard several days to shift her duties sufficiently for her to be free.

“Good morning…”

“Anna in private,” I said when she hesitated.

“Anna. Colonel Ballard said you’re the priority. They like you and think you know what you’re doing, so they are eager to do whatever you ask.” She grinned.

“Good. I want you to research the three delegations that had a delegate murdered and tell me how it affected their vote if they voted on anything prior to leaving for their break,” I said as Maxine made a note on her tablet. “As I understand it, a delegation’s vote is based on the majority of the five delegates. So, if one is murdered, it could change the way they vote. Understand?” When she nodded, I continued. “Call me if you have any questions or run into a problem.” When she rose to leave, I waved for her to stay.

“Well, Martha, what good things do you have for me today?”

“Major Olson would like to go over the new refresher training with you. I’ve scheduled him for fifteen hundred hours so you will have time afterward for the firing range. And I’ve scheduled you this morning with Major Schwartz to review personnel recruiting.”

* * *

“Good morning, Anna. Coffee?” Major Schwartz asked. I nodded and walked over to the sidebar he pointed to and mixed my coffee drink. “Martha said you wanted to talk about recruiting,” he said, sounding cautious.

“This is not an inspection, Glen. I just want to understand how we recruit our c-agents,” I said. He nodded.

“I receive all the applications for jobs we post or general queries, scan them, and forward the ones that look qualified to the appropriate department.”

“What’s appropriate for Security?” I asked, aware that personal and building security rotated their people.

“Combat military training and experience is best but sometimes police experience is sufficient,” he said.

“Doesn’t that severely limit the applicants and particularly women?” I asked.

“Yes. Is the object to hire more women?” he replied with a tone that suggested a quota would mean hiring less-qualified personnel.

“What’s our current percentage of women c-agents?” I asked. He frowned as if thinking but I suspected it was not at the question but at the issue.

“About three percent,” he said hesitantly.

“What is the percentage of female delegates?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said reluctantly.

“No reason you should, Glen. It’s approximately thirty percent, or eighty-four women. In my experience, a man guarding a woman leaves weaknesses in her security. A man can’t go everywhere a woman might and I doubt any c-agent is going to stop a delegate going where she wants.” I cocked my head slightly and smiled.

“That’s true, Director—”

“Anna, please.”

“That’s true, Anna, but finding qualified women…”

“It will be more challenging, but I think worth the extra effort. Do me a favor and talk to Ballard, Olson, Harris, and McKenzie about the issue. See what they think. That’s all I ask.”

He laughed. “Sorry. You’re right. We’ve been looking at the individual trees while you’re looking at the forest. We’ll put together a plan for your approval.”

“I’d like to know what you are going to do, but it doesn’t need my approval. I trust you. How do promotions work?” I then asked, wanting to move on like the women issue had already been solved.

“Individuals are recommended by their department chief and then are considered by a board, which includes McKenzie, Olson, Harris, and Ballard, who meet quarterly. Up to staff sergeant it’s pretty much automatic, but above that rank it usually requires an open position. When a position opens up sometimes a person is placed in the position temporarily as acting by the department chief until the board can meet.”

“Salaries?” I asked.

“Each rank and position has a base salary. Then there are automatic raises for time in grade, and bonuses for awards.” He smiled. “You’ll notice you got a ten-thousand-credit bonus for the Medal of Valor you were awarded.”

My mouth dropped open. I seldom looked at my bank account. Credits went in and out automatically and there was more than an adequate amount in the account for me to not worry about it.

“You didn’t look.” He laughed again. “Congratulations. From the reports I heard, you earned it.”

Schwartz spent the next couple of hours explaining the records database and showing me how to access it. Then we had a quiet lunch where he got me to talk about my NIA career.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Director Paulus.” Olson greeted me using my title as several new-hires were in the area when I arrived. “I wanted you to review the changes to the curriculum as well as the refresher course.”

“Thank you, Major. I appreciate that. I’m interested in seeing the changes,” I said and followed him into the conference room. The room was very basic with comfortable leather chairs that didn’t swivel or have rollers, and the conference table was metal, not wood. As the room was used primarily for training, a monitor hung on each wall instead of paintings or pictures.

“We added several of your assassination attempts as exercises to see what the new-hires and current c-agents would do and compared the results. Fortunately, the c-agents did better but not by a significant amount. Your assassins were very clever. One’s eyes and attention always respond to noise or a commotion. You have to force yourself to do otherwise. We decided we will have to designate c-agents to look in the other direction. It’s almost funny.” He went on to detail the additions to the two programs. “And we all agree more women would be good for security. We’re considering a short introductory course for interested women both to explain the life and to evaluate the candidates.” As he spoke, he watched me for my reaction.

“I leave that to you, but that’s sounds like a good approach. I wasn’t suggesting a quota. I just thought the right women, properly trained, might provide us with better security options,” I said.

He nodded and then grinned. “Would you like to participate?”

“I would be willing if you think it might help.” I grinned at his surprise.

* * *

“Mother, I have another aide-de-camp,” I said at dinner that night with Alexa.

“I thought you didn’t like aides,” she said with an amused smile and her fork with a slice of whitefish paused halfway to her mouth.

“I have two problems with the concept. First, the position has no job description, so a third grader as well as a doctor could fill it—”

“That’s good because you can make it anything you want,” Alexa interjected.

“That’s the second problem. To keep the aide busy I have to give the person work I would otherwise do to keep me busy and that I’d probably enjoy.” I made a sulky face and Red relaxed, lying limp and sliding onto my chest.

“It appears Red agrees and sympathizes,” Alexa laughed.

“Can’t blame him. He has little excitement in his life.”

“So, who is your new aide-de-camp? Is he young and handsome?”

“Mother!” I guessed a director having an affair with an aide wasn’t unheard of, but the fallout would be a disaster for me and the aide. I shook my head to clear it of the consequences. “My new aide is a female c-agent, Sergeant Maxine Landon. The male c-agents didn’t appear interested.”

“Do you like her?”

“She has the right attitude, and ironically the same general reason that David had. She wants to watch me.”

“Smart woman. You’ve gone from ensign to the Director of the UAS Committee Security in less than fifteen years with no political help.”

“I had something much better—you, Mother, and this thing pretending to be a red-headed krait.”

* * *

Several days later, Maxine appeared with the results of my query.

“Anna,” Maxine said hesitantly and then eagerly continued when I nodded. “Mr. Morales was the leader of a conservative group with a four to one majority. His death had no immediate impact on the delegation. Mrs. Briggs was the leader of an Independent group, also with a four to one majority. And the third death, a Mr. Crawford, was on an Expansionists group with a three to two majority. Since Mr. Crawford was a Socialist, the group wasn’t impacted,” she said, reading from her tablet. She looked up cautiously.

“Excellent, Maxine. That is just want I wanted,” I said and smiled. “What I’m trying to determine is the reason for the murders. If we can determine that we will be one step closer to finding our killers. Your next task is to get an appointment with Commander Weaver, who is the Director of the NIA Stations. Explain to him that I want his people to determine the new configuration of the seven groups we are following: Westar, Amend, Holy Star, New Zheng, Sutan, Oasis, and Black Water.”

Maxine nodded but frowned. “Won’t we know when they return to Eastar for the Committee’s next scheduled meeting?” she asked.

“Yes, but NIA will be able to report the results weeks ahead of their arrival, and I’d like to know as soon as possible. A few weeks may save lives. But if nothing else, it will give us more time to consider what to do next.” I sat back and took a sip of coffee. “Maxine, have you been asked your opinion about how to recruit more women?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yes. They want your input but don’t want to ask, so I think they are hoping to get it through me.”

“You should give them all the help you can, but I prefer to wait for them to come up with a plan. If I interfere, it will become my plan, and they might stop thinking, and we could lose a much better idea,” I said and watched Maxine working through my logic. Eventually, she smiled.

“This is why I wanted to be your aide. Thank you.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Understanding the Problem

“Ladies, this is the Director of Committee Security, Miss Paulus,” Olson said to a group of fifteen women he and several others had screened for the first introductory training class for non-combat-trained women. They were all standing, dressed in gray sweat suits and running shoes.

“Sit,” I said and waited before continuing. “Most of the men who apply for c-agents have already confronted the two questions you must resolve if you are to pass this course and are selected to join Committee Security. First and foremost, can you kill another human? You will be protecting important people from around the UAS that are deciding our futures. Only on the vids do the heroes shoot to wound. In reality you won’t know until the situation arises, but if you know you can’t, this is no place for you. Your inability to shoot an assassin attacking a delegate could not only get the delegate killed, but it could get you or your fellow c-agent killed. Assassins not only shoot at the intended target but also those protecting them. And that is the second issue you must consider. Are you willing to risk your life to save those you are guarding, because the risk is real?” I paused for them to think and to ask questions.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” a stocky young woman asked. Although the question was meaningless it was usually the first question people asked. I wasn’t applying to be a c-agent.

“Yes. While one’s first kill is probably the most difficult and traumatic, mine was easy. Men were trying to kill my mother. Since then I have been wounded around ten times and killed several men during the course of my career. I look at it not as killing people but as saving people, because I don’t enjoy killing anything.”

“Ladies, take a ten-minute break,” Olson said to the women as he walked up to me with Maxine following. “Maxine made a good decision. At the time I thought, like most of our male c-agents, why would a c-agent want to fetch and carry? It isn’t a promotion or more money. No, Maxine is willing to do whatever is necessary to study you up close and personal.”

“Boss,” Maxine said, “if you have no need for me, Commander Weaver texted me that he has the information you asked for.”

“No, go see Weaver and thank him for me.” As Maxine turned and headed for the elevator, I said, “No, Craig, she is thinking about her future. She wants to be a senior c-agent with her own department or maybe her own company someday.”

Craig nodded in agreement. “Thank you for agreeing to make the introduction. It was very insightful and just what the women needed to hear. And the best part, it was delivered by a woman, not a man who might be considered chauvinistic.”

“It’s a good program, Craig. I like that you have men and women teaching it. I think some of the women will have questions best answered by another woman. I’d like your evaluation of the course when it’s finished.”

* * *

Maxine was excited when she returned. “Weaver had the final results for all seven systems.”

“Get me a coffee, and bring it to the table,” I said as Maxine mixed my coffee drink and sat at the small round table.

“How did you know?” Maxine asked, after we had put the information into a table that visually showed the before and after results.

“I didn’t, but I’m used to dealing with the other systems and was curious if the same murders were happening on the delegates’ planets. And when I discovered the high accident rate of the delegates it made me wonder what impact that had on the system delegate vote. This doesn’t prove the accidents were murders but it does require further review.” When it appeared that Maxine understood my thought process I clicked on Martha’s icon. “Martha, see if you can get me an appointment with the Core group.” I sat back and sipped my coffee while considering the current data and wondering if there was a political assassins group with an agenda or if there were two groups—one with an agenda and one just hired assassins. Martha jerked me out of my musing.

“Director, they will see you now,” Martha said. I rose, put on my jacket, and exited my office.

“Thank you, Martha,” I said as I headed for Bennett’s office. His secretary waved for me to go in, so I knocked and entered. “Good day,” I said and heard similar replies from the three.

“You have news, Anna?” Bennett asked.

“I’ve received a response to my request. I’m trying to determine if the changes are normal or whether the results are related directly to the delegates’ accidents and therefore not accidents but murder,” I said.

“What changes?” Scherer asked, frowning. “You appear to have information we don’t.”

“Before the shooting on Eastar the Majority party was the Conservatives with eight Conservative votes, one Independent, and one Expansionist. The Minority party had four votes with three Liberals and one Socialist. That gave the Majority party a six-vote advantage. The three murders on Eastar didn’t change that six-vote advantage, but it did reduce the Conservative vote by two and increased the Expansionists by two—giving the Conservatives and Expansionists an equal number. The Minority party was unchanged. However, the four incidents involving delegates on their home planets produced a major shift. The Majority party advantage is now only two. In addition, the number of Conservatives and Expansionists groups are now equal, and the Liberals now have five of the current six groups and are now the largest party.” I paused, noting each of their reactions. Bennett was frowning, Glaser smiling, and Scherer appeared deep in thought.

“What do you need to know?” Scherer finally asked.

“More about the election process and then to collect some historical data to compare to the recent changes,” I said.

“A delegate’s term is for five years. To avoid massive changes each year, only one-fifth of the delegates’ positions are up for election each year. Therefore, in each system only one person is up for reelection, unless there is a death like this year. Then more than one person could change.” Scherer looked to me before continuing. “And the Majority party is determined by which parties decide to align to form a block.”

I nodded. “I’d like to have each party’s votes for the past four years.” I said, thinking that should be sufficient to determine a pattern.

“What are you hoping to find?” Bennett asked. He looked shaken by the results, probably the loss of Conservative votes—down from eight to three.

“Whether the murders on Eastar and the accidents on the various systems constitute an organized plot to manipulate UAS policy,” I said to shocked faces.

“Do you think that is what is happening?” Bennett asked, but I could see Scherer already believed it by her slight nod. Even Glaser looked interested in the idea, and he should be.

“I don’t know but before I arrived the Conservatives had a significant vote advantage. Now they not only don’t have a majority vote but if the Expansionists joined the Liberals they would be the majority party, or if the Expansionists, Independents, and Socialists joined, they would be the majority party and you would potentially have three voting groups. The dynamics have certainly changed as a result of these deaths.” I said. “I’m hoping a review of the last four years’ elections will give me more data to make a decision.”

* * *

“This should be interesting,” Craig said as I prepared to teach the arms portion of the introductory course for potential woman candidates. “Obviously I had envisioned going at it differently.” He gave me a wry smile.

“But your typical candidate has fired thousands of rounds, and all you want to determine is how quick he can think and how accurate his shooting. I’d be surprised if the average woman here has fired fifty rounds in her life. So, she’s not quick, not accurate, and potentially dangerous.”

I turned to the group of ten women candidates. “I will be your trainer for this segment. It will be approximately two hours each day,” I said to get their attention. “Rule one. Never point a gun, loaded or unloaded or inoperative, at someone unless you intent to shoot him or her. Never. That includes the guns you are going to be working with in a few minutes even though they are harmless. Because the person you’re pointing your gun at can’t read your mind, it’s therefore reasonable for him to think you plan to shoot him. In that case, he would be justified in shooting you first.”

I picked up one of the guns lying on the bench of the shooting lane I was standing next to and held it pointing toward the ceiling. “This weapon shoots a beam of light when the trigger is depressed, which will show you where you would have hit the target if it had been a bullet.” I turned so I was facing sideways to the target and pressed the trigger. The beam showed a line of red to the bull’s-eye. “For this session I want you to aim, press the trigger, and determine where it would hit. If it’s not on the bull’s-eye, move the light until it is and inspect your aim.”

Over the next hour, I went to each woman and made suggestions. I had been right, only two women had shot more than one hundred rounds in their life. By the end of the two hours they all appeared to be doing well.

The next day, I taught them how to take apart a Sig Sauer, clean it, and put it back together again. I snickered to myself as I recalled my first two weeks with Chief Ransom learning how to do the same to a variety of weapons.

The following day, I gave them each a Sig Sauer and ammo. “Ladies, the Sig Sauer lying on each table is not to be touched until I come to your firing lane,” I said and proceeded to stop at each table and explain the protocol for a firing range, making sure they came and left the booth with an unloaded weapon and cleaned it before returning it to inventory.

For the next week, I spent an hour each day monitoring the women. In the end, eight women were comfortable with the Sig and the Laser and had qualified my portion of the training.

* * *

“Well, Craig, what is your evaluation of the introductory training course?” I asked when the course had ended. We sat in my office drinking coffee. Seth, Maxine, and Martha were also present.

“Surprisingly better than I had thought. We’ve concluded six of the women should be hired as probationary candidates along with several male candidates.” Craig smiled. “As you pointed out, you never had combat experience and didn’t even like shooting at an outline of a human head and torso. The addition of several more women will fill a potential weakness in our one-on-one security. They might need remedial training, but we will make it work without lowering our standards.”

“Thank you, Craig, the program was excellent, and you’re right. The women will need a bit more hand-holding, but I believe the additional effort will prove worthwhile,” I said. When Craig had left, Martha spoke.

“Majority Leader Scherer gave me this flash drive. She said it contained the information you requested.” She handed me the drive. I inserted it into my tablet and transferred the data to the room monitor. It showed the party majority vote by system. Red wound his way into my hair and settled his head on my forehead as I organized the data. I created five columns, one for each year, and then a row for each system.

“You knew what we would find,” Maxine said, sounding excited.

“What’s that?” I asked, although it was fairly obvious.

“That the systems’ votes are relatively stable. Each system tends to vote the same way each year. But the murders have caused a lot of changes.”

“I would have said the significant changes this year are a strong indicator that the accidents were intentional. That is, they were murders made to look like accidents with the intention of producing a given outcome.” I paused and took a sip of coffee, awaiting comments.

“You think someone is trying to influence UAS policy?” Seth asked.

“I think it’s a question we must resolve. That will indicate who is most at risk and give us a clue as to who may be involved,” I said. “And their method of operation.”

“They’re killing delegates,” Maxine said.

“But how? Do they have people on every planet or are they centralized? Do they hire local talent for the kill or do they have death teams they send when they have a target? And how do they identify people to be eliminated? You can’t just eliminate delegates and hope you get the change you want. As is obvious from the data, the systems are relatively stable. Consequently, you have to identify groups where killing a specific individual is highly likely to cause the result they’re looking for. That may require the group to have individuals running for election who would fill in if the slot became open.”

“So, this operation could have been in the works for years?” Seth said. I nodded.

“Martha, get me an appointment with Bennett,” I said, as Red wound down and round my neck. He apparently agrees, I mused and smiled mentally at a psychologist’s reaction to my remark.

* * *

“Sir, I’m not sure how you want me to give you an update when I have one. With Vice Admiral Lulltrel, I waited until her staff meeting to update her on my activities for the week. But if something significant was discovered or occurred, I would schedule a special appointment,” I said as I entered Bennett’s office. Again, Glaser and Scherer were present. I idly wondered if Bennett had requested their presence or if he invited me to their normal get-together. Bennett sat with his lips pursed in thought for a long time before speaking.

“That sounds reasonable, but I’ll tell my secretary that if I’m not available to set you up with an appointment with the Majority or Minority leader,” he said, looking to Scherer and then Glaser, who each nodded.

“Good to know,” I said. “Now for the update. For the past four years the systems have been very stable. The numbers of a political party on a voting group change, and now and then a voting group changes its political party, but it usually remains with the currently aligned factions. That is a switch from Social to Liberal or for Conservative to Independent. But only one change of alignment occurred in the last four years—Social to Independent.” I paused for questions or comments. Everyone appeared to be waiting for the But to follow. “The changes this year are subtle but I believe significant. This year there were two changes to aligned factions—from Independent and Conservative to Liberal and four inter-factions within the Conservative-aligned groups—four Conservatives groups changed to two Independents and two Expansionists.”

“What do you think is significant about this?” Scherer asked.

“In my opinion, it strongly suggests that the accidents were murders. If that’s correct, the perpetrators have an agenda,” I said.

“What agenda?”

“What would they achieve if they gained a majority position?” I asked, knowing it was obvious.

“Control of the UAS,” Glaser said. “The Majority group controls where the money is spent which in turns controls policy.”

“What happens if some other group becomes the Majority group?” I asked.

“The Majority group always selects the next president,” Glaser said. He seemed energized now that the Minority group had closed the gap with the Majority group to two votes.

“You believe there is a group killing selective delegates with the intention of taking control of the Committee?” Bennett asked, leaning forward and frowning.

“Given the information I have right now, that appears to be a logical conclusion. My priority is finding the killers but thought you might want to know what I’ve discovered to date,” I said.

“You were right to update us as soon as you had the information. I leave it to you to decide whether an update is urgent or can wait until our normal weekly meeting,” Bennett said and received nods from Scherer and Glaser.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Following Bread Crumbs

I sat in my office pondering the problem of how to follow the bread crumbs the killers were leaving. If I assumed all the changes this cycle were a direct result of their murders, what did that reveal? I came up with several deductions.

* The Conservatives had lost dominance of the Committee’s fifteen votes, going from eight to three votes, and in effect lost dominance of the Conservative group vote as the Expansionists now also had three votes. Conclusion: An unknown political group or cabal was attempting a coup d’état. And the unknown cabal, UnCab as I thought of it, wasn’t backing the Conservatives.

* Since the Conservative group still held the controlling votes, the UnCab’s strategy must be long term—at least another year.

* The Liberals had made the largest gains, going from three to five votes. The Expansionists and Independents had both gained one—the Expansionists going from two to three, and the Independents finishing with two votes, after losing one but gaining two. The Socialists’ vote remained at one.

* UnCab’s manipulations might have been going on for a couple of years based on the changes in the individual groups over the past two years. Although no changes occurred in the Conservative group vote, a total of eight changes resulted in the five-person count, indicating personnel changes.

* The attempts to kill me were well organized and funded.

* The UnCab had to have inside information to know I was hired to find the killers and to know how to time the attack.

* The murders at the individual systems were made to look like accidents while no attempt was made to hide the killings on Eastar were anything but murders.

* The WEP manifesto.

Yes, a lot of bread crumbs, I mused, but where did they lead? I concluded I had at most one year to solve the problem. If the UnCab did gain control, they would certainly appoint a new Director of Committee Security, if they didn’t manage to kill me before then. Surprisingly, that made me mad on several levels—I liked this job, resented them trying to kill me, and was furious at the stress it would cause Alexa. I hated making assumptions, but the limited time I had to solve this case forced me not only to make conjectures before I had all the facts, but also to act on them. I concluded I had to assume:

* They would continue to try to kill me.

* The WEP manifesto and the murders on Eastar were necessary for their agenda but were also intended to draw attention away from the accidents on the various systems.

* The UnCab was backing either the Liberals or the Expansionists. The Liberals were only two votes from becoming the Majority party, and the Expansionists needed only one more Conservative or Independent vote to change to control the Conservative group—given of course they could keep the group together. I would have to ask Scherer for her thoughts on the issue.

* The UnCab had some contact on selected systems to assess the opportunity to forward their agenda. This meant there must be some communication between the UnCab and the systems.

* The killers were centrally based because hiring killers on each system would increase the UnCab’s exposure and because they needed specialists to make the killings look like accidents. And because of the quick response to kill me, the UnCab must be based in Eastar.

I sat looking over my list of assumptions, hoping I hadn’t made a false one that would waste months of effort I couldn’t afford if I were to solve this puzzle before the UnCab could complete their takeover. Given the delegates would be returning to Eastar in a week, the next murders would have to be on Eastar, either a delegate or more likely me.

I clicked on Martha’s icon and immediately heard, “Yes, Director.”

“Martha, get Seth and Maxine. I’d like to speak to the three of you,” I said, silently apologizing to my mother as I was knowingly setting myself up as bait. I had to trust someone and decided on those three individuals, knowing if I were wrong I was putting myself at more risk. Several minutes later there was a knock at the door and then Martha entered followed by Seth and Maxine.

“Get something to drink and sit,” I said as I got up and took a seat at my small conference table. “Seth, can this room be bugged?”

“Yes, but you have a device on your bookshelf that when activated will block any electronic transmissions,” he said, giving me a look of concern. I typed on my tablet and then turned it toward him.

Can you check if there are any active?

Nodding, he stood and removed a small device from his belt and slowly walked around the room, watching the device. When he returned to the table he shook his head and sat.

“Thank you, Seth. Is there any way transmissions from here can be monitored?”

“Including the delegates?” Seth asked, frowning. I couldn’t be positive but I thought it highly unlikely that the delegates had access to my coming and going on a real-time basis.

“No. I want access for only a couple of hours.”

“It’s possible but I’ll need a few hours’ notice. Can you tell me why?” Seth asked, clearly concerned about legal ramifications.

“I believe the killers we’re looking for will target me next. It’s an assumption but a reasonable one based on several factors. And because of the timing of the last attack, they had only a twenty-minute window to act, so I think it’s reasonable to assume they have a contact here—”

“A mole!?” Maxine’s eyes flew wide as she looked from me to Seth and back again.

“Here is what I’d like to happen. Martha, you will coordinate with Seth when you are going to call the NIA and set up two appointments. One with Admiral Hadley and one with Commander Weaver. I’ll want a couple of hours with Hadley.”

“You think this group will be told of your meeting and set up another ambush?” Seth asked. “Why risk your life? Have Hadley and Weaver come here.”

“My assessment is that whatever this group is planning will be completed by this time next year. So, I have only one year to find and destroy them. They know that and will want me neutralized. I could be wrong about the mole, but if one exists, it’s a good opportunity to eliminate the mole and maybe learn something about the group.”

“You think they will attack on the Committee grounds?” Seth asked.

“No, I think on the way to the NIA headquarters or more likely when we arrive or are leaving.”

“You’ll need extra guards,” Seth said, frowning in thought.

“That’s why I called you in. We need a plan.” I smiled. “I may be reckless, but I’m not suicidal.” I felt a sigh of relief around the table. “I suggest we notify Colonel Pannell there may be trouble. Normally I’d worry about an ambush in the lobby but we will be landing on the roof of the headquarters building.”

Seth laughed. “You aren’t suicidal.”

“Martha, when Seth has the communications tracking in place, you can get me appointments with Admiral Hadley and Commander Weaver. I’ll go to their offices,” I said, silently apologizing to my mother as I was knowingly setting myself up as bait. If I were right and there was an UnCab mole here at Committee Security, I was hoping this gambit would help identify him with minimum risk to my security and me.

* * *

“Ma’am, your appointment with Admiral Hadley is set for thirteen hundred hours at NIA headquarters, and with Commander Weaver at fifteen hundred hours,” Martha said as the four of us convened in my office an hour after I had arrived for work. The previous day, we had decided to make the time between Martha’s call and the appointment short, forcing the mole to have to act quickly and giving the UnCab less time to prepare. Martha had made the call at nine hundred hours, giving the mole only four hours to relay the information.

“I plan to check the tapes at eleven, hoping our mole has made contact by then. I’d like to know who it is, what he said, and hopefully who he called,” Seth said, looking like a crouching panther ready and eager to strike.

“Seth, if you do identify him, don’t take any action until we discuss it. He may only be dealing with a middleman but he may have a connection that could lead us to the killers.”

Seth nodded reluctantly. I couldn’t blame him; having a traitor in your midst was like wearing a soiled shirt or carrying a dirty weapon. “I’ve notified Colonel Pannell. He said he’d have extra security at NIA headquarters in case we needed it. He seemed to think we would.” Seth snorted a laugh.

“He knows from years of experience how determined and clever the opposition can be. They have money and probably high-level connections as they are planning a government coup d’état. If you have the votes to control the Committee, you would have a great deal of power. You can appoint your people to positions of power, change regulations, and funnel money to your priority projects,” I said, thinking out loud. “A movement like that can attract a lot of people claiming to be patriots and wanting to save the UAS from taking the wrong path.”

“That’s scary,” Maxine said. “And without you as director, they would have succeeded.”

“Careful. We’ve identified the problem but are a long way from resolving it. Right now, I’d give them the advantage if for no other reason than the time frame. My one-year estimate is best case. They could be only months from accomplishing their goal.”

* * *

“You were right, Anna. We have a mole. He called a local Eastar number and reported you have an appointment at the NIA headquarters building at thirteen hundred hours. But he used a prepaid card so it’s going to be difficult to identify him. As far as I can tell, the call came from the c-agents area.” Seth looked furious, as it meant a c-agent was betraying us.

“They usually aren’t careless or stupid, so that was about the best we could have hoped for. We know we have a mole, he doesn’t know we know, and we can eliminate everyone who isn’t in the building as well as those in the Committee dome.” I shrugged. “It’s a step closer. In my experience, solving a puzzle like this is slow, painful work. You did good.” I smiled. “I guess it’s time to find out what they have waiting for us.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A Flexible Opponent

We left with my normal detail of four plus Maxine. I had debated whether to take her or not. It wouldn’t be unusual for an aide to accompany me, and she would provide an extra weapon if there were trouble, and I was certain there would be. The question was whether that put another person in danger or provided the detail and me with more protection and a better chance of surviving the encounter. Since I thought I’d have to chain Maxine to something to keep her from going, I relented.

To my surprise, the shuttle reserved for the Core individuals was waiting. It was armored and had missiles and lasers attached. Inside, the seats were a plush leather and it looked more like a hotel suite than a shuttle except for the six seats up front for security. In the middle there was what looked like a small conference area, then an area with a couch and several recliners, and after that a small bathroom and bar.

“Colonel McKenzie cleared it with President Bennett,” Master Sergeant Medina, the team leader, said as I stood frozen surveying the shuttle. “The colonel said Bennett told him the shuttle was available for your use anytime you needed it.”

Eventually, I got my legs moving and took one of the lounge chairs and sat. I had just begun to relax when I felt the shuttle settle on the roof of the headquarters building. Outside, they checked my ID and I entered the elevator and pressed eighteen. To my surprise, Admiral Teresa Hadley was waiting when the door opened.

“Anna!” she half shouted. “Or is it Director Paulus?” She smiled. On an impulse I hugged her. “Thank you, Anna. That’s a hug I’ll long remember. Where’s Red?” Her face was a bit pale but her smile was warm. Just then Red appeared from within my jacket, wrapped around my neck, and appeared to be looking at Teresa.

“I find he can distinguish friend from foe,” I said. “I’ve missed you, Teresa.”

“I’ve missed you, Anna. The place is boring since you left. No rides on a cruiser, no assassins, and no exciting projects.” She laughed.

“Well, I do have a search I’d like you to make for me,” I said as we walked to her office, where she had coffee made for us. “I want to know which ships arrived at a given planet during the ten days from a specific date, where the ships came from, when they left, and where they went.”

“What are you looking for?” Teresa asked, her face flushed with excitement.

“Please keep this to yourself, but we have a group killing Committee delegates. I believe the group’s home base is Eastar. If I’m right, they identify someone to be killed and then send a person or team of professional killers to make the kill.”

“Why not hire killers on the planet where the delegate lives or wait for him to come back when the Committee meets?” Hadley asked.

“Because they want the deaths to look like accidents, so the team they send are very special assassins. If you can identify the potential ships that might have transported them, Weaver can hopefully identify potential passengers that qualify and the ships they left on. You can then trace him back to Eastar.”

“That’s a lot of searches and one hell of a trick if you can pull it off,” Hadley said, frowning.

“If we can,” I said. “And this is a P1A request and time critical. There is nothing more urgent than this project,” I said, deciding not to try to explain why. “And keep the searches to a select number of individuals. This group is very well connected.”

After Hadley had called in two of her top people and explained what she wanted done, we spent an hour talking about old times and my new position. Hadley decided we should call Weaver to her office.

“Good morning, Director Paulus, Admiral Hadley,” Weaver said as he entered Teresa’s office and saluted her.

“Commander, Admiral Hadley is going to be identifying some ships for me. I want you to have your station commanders attempt to identify any passengers who arrived and subsequently departed within seven days of arriving and the ship they departed on. You will give that information to me and Admiral Hadley,” I said and waited for questions. When none came, I continued. “This is a P1A request and is urgent. No other project takes precedence over this one, and the number of people working on the project should be restricted and the project kept on a strict need to know basis. The people we are looking for have high-level connections and have no compulsion eliminating anyone they feel a threat.”

“I didn’t realize we could identify the movement of spacecraft and who was on them,” Maxine said on our way back. “Do you think those searches will identify them?”

“Depends on how careful they were. If I’m right about who we are dealing with, they will know what the UAS tracks and what information is available. But I’m hoping they will conclude the information is distributed among a variety of disparate groups and there would be legal issues involved in obtaining the information, therefore the data would be all but invisible.”

“No wonder they want you dead!” Maxine all but whispered.

“Yes, someone with P1A authority who knows the systems can be a real pain in the ass.” I grinned. A few minutes later the shuttle settled on the landing pad. We had no trouble entering the building, to everyone’s surprise. I wasn’t sure whether my security was happy or unhappy about the uneventful day.

* * *

“Anything new at work, Anna?” Alexa asked as we sat down for dinner. I loved my work at the NIA and I was beginning to feel comfortable as the Director of Committee Security, but being home with Alexa was where I was at peace. She was not only my mother, mentor, and friend, but also my savior.

“We have a mole in the group,” I said as I put a slice of steak in my mouth. Alexa’s eyes flew open and the corn kernels on her fork slid off into her lap. I couldn’t help a smile. “I’d concluded we had to have a spy based on the previous attack on me when I was going to visit Commander Weaver. So, Seth set a communications trap and then I had Martha call Admiral Hadley for a meeting. Seth intercepted his call. It came from the c-agents area and sounded male, but he couldn’t identify him as he used a cheap throwaway phone. I’m sure Seth will try to see who purchased it, but unless the mole’s stupid, he paid some random person to go in and buy it for him.”

“Is he dangerous?” Alexa felt nervous, which made my heart ache. I had caused her so much stress over the years, yet she never complained.

“Actually, he’s probably more a positive than a negative factor now that we know he exists. He’s a link to the organization which may eventually lead us to them, and in the meantime, we can use him to set our own trap. I imagine he is being paid to keep them posted on my activities—little risk, big credits. Killing me may not be hard but getting away with it would be near impossible—therefore the big risk of getting killed wouldn’t be worth the credits.”

To my relief, Alexa laughed. “Daughter, your careers make cruiser duty sound like a safe and relaxing profession by comparison.”

“I blame Red,” I said, lifting him to my lips. “I think it’s his mission to rid the UAS of evil people.”

Alexa sobered. “That may not be as funny as it sounds. A red-headed krait seeks out a little girl lying in snow dying of the Coaca Virus and provides her life, increased intelligence, and the ability to sense emotions for his continued presence.” She laughed. “We both had better stay clear of psychologists.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Following the Bread Crumbs

“Well, Martha, who can I annoy today? I’m bored.”

“You could go to the firing range and punch holes in the outline of someone you don’t like, or you could join the training.” She held up her hand as her tablet chimed softly. “Anna, Admiral Hadley says she has the results of your query.”

“Ask her if she minds coming to the Committee building. I’ll treat her to lunch,” I said. Martha typed for a minute, then waited. Finally, she nodded.

“The admiral said she would be here at noon,” Martha said, right after her tablet chimed.

“Maxine, would you make sure Admiral Hadley is cleared to see me?” I said. Maxine nodded and left.

* * *

“Director Paulus, we have an emergency in the lobby,” someone said into my earbud. When I clicked acknowledgment, he continued. “We have three men with Mfws. One has his weapon to Admiral Hadley’s head and is threatening to shoot her if they aren’t allowed access to your office.”

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart. “Poor Teresa,” I mumbled. That was the problem with people who wanted me dead at any cost, they didn’t care who got killed or injured in their attempt to kill me. I switched my mic to general broadcast, which meant the hall speakers would be activated. “Attention, this is Director Paulus. Hold your fire. You’re not to lower your weapons but you are not authorized to fire unless the intruders do. If they fire so much as one shot you are to shoot to kill. I’m on my way to the lobby,” I said and noticed Maxine standing in the doorway.

“Ma’am, you can’t—” she began but I shook my head.

“Maxine, get my jacket and follow me,” I said as I exited the office. I couldn’t seem to focus as I walked toward the lobby. Then I felt Red wrap around my neck and strike it. I was so surprised, I stopped walking, which caused Maxine to stumble past me. Why? I wondered, until I felt the adrenaline or poison or something running through me like hot lava. It cooled as quickly as it began and my mind cleared. I took a deep breath and considered the gunmen. They were paid assassins, not fanatics wanting to die for a cause. They didn’t have any hostages. They had someone who was a close friend. Someone I wouldn’t want killed and therefore would be willing to negotiate. They were right.

“Maxine, when I ask for my jacket, make sure you open it so the intruders can see there is no weapon inside,” I said and continued toward the lobby. When I entered, it was almost comical. There were more than ten c-agents with guns drawn and pointing at the three gunmen. Although the gunmen had Mfws, it was obvious the three wouldn’t live through the experience.

“Tell them to lower their weapons,” the man holding his Mfw pointing at Hadley’s head shouted. “Or I’ll kill her.”

“And yourselves,” I said loud enough to be heard. “And the opportunity to spend that money for killing me.”

Silence for several moments. Then the same man spoke again. “My boss doesn’t want you dead, otherwise we would have shot you when you appeared. We were ordered to bring you to him. Answer his questions and you and the admiral can go free,” he shouted, confirming he didn’t like the idea of dying any more than losing the money he’d get for killing me. I had no doubt he’d kill Hadley and me as soon as he was out of danger. His boss or handler must know me or knew people who knew that Hadley and I were close, and that I would risk my life to prevent her from getting hurt on my account.

“Leave Admiral Hadley and I’ll come with you to see your boss. That way no one gets hurt, including you.”

“Anna, don’t. You can’t trust them,” Teresa shouted.

“Shut your mouth, bitch,” the man holding her shouted.

“Enough!” I shouted. “I’m coming and I’m unarmed. Maxine,” I said. She removed my jacket from her arm and shook it as if to shake out any wrinkles, opened it wide to help me put it on, and then slipped a sleeve through one outstretched arm and then the other. I handed my badge to Maxine, who hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it and walked up to the counter and slid the badge through the slot. I then walked through the detector, taking my badge from Maxine’s extended hand. The detector made no sound, indicating I had no weapon on my person—well, actually it indicated I was the director and allowed to carry anything I could lift through the security lane. The three men relaxed ever so slightly. Things were going according to plan.

“Any gun shots and you are authorized to kill these men,” I said just in case they were considering shooting me and running.

“You have our word,” the man holding Hadley said loudly. I felt like laughing. We were both lying and nothing we said could be trusted. When I reached Hadley, she reached her right arm out to pull me close, and I reached my left arm out and placed my hand on her shoulder. The gesture had the effect of shielding me from all three men. Almost simultaneously, I reached under my jacket with my right hand, gripped my Sig Sauer, and fired as Red emerged from my left sleeve and struck the man holding Hadley. He screamed and stumbled backward as he tried to brush the snake away. I pushed Hadley down with me. Now everyone was firing. I just hoped they all remembered that snake was the equivalent of my heart. The man who had been holding Hadley was whirling in circles trying to get free of Red.

“Stop firing,” I shouted as I walked toward the man with Red hanging on his neck. He had dropped his weapon, and his neck and chin were swelling and turning a dark red. His face twisted in pain and his shrieks echoed off the walls. I grabbed Red by the tail and he dropped away. I quickly checked Red before letting him wind around my neck as the intruder collapsed. Then suddenly, a sobbing, tear-soaked Teresa was hugging me, ignoring or not caring that Red was around my neck, but he ignored her.

“I was so scared,” she sobbed, squeezing me tighter. Then she jumped back, staring at Red. “He didn’t bite me!”

“He appears to know friend from foe…or he’s getting old and one bite is all he can manage,” I said, grinning at a wide-eyed Teresa. I took her by the hand and gently pulled her through the security lane. “Let’s go to my office and let them clean the place. I think I’m getting old because I’m tired too.”

“How did they know I was coming to see you?” Teresa broke the silence halfway through our coffee.

“The people I’m chasing are well connected. I suspect they have high-level positions and are well funded…and know me and what I’m doing. I know I have a mole in my organization, and there is obviously one in the NIA. And they have decided I’m an impediment to their plans.”

“Plans?”

“They intend to take over the UAS. Apparently, they don’t like the way it’s being managed.”

“Take over the UAS?”

“Sounds unbelievable but they have figured out a way without the necessity for a military coup,” I said. “Let’s go to lunch. The Committee’s cafeteria is quite good and I’m hungry.”

“How are you going to catch them if they are in high-level positions?” Hadley asked as we sat eating.

“The same way as always. With your help and others we will piece together their organization and then destroy it,” I said, sipping a spoonful of hot mushroom soup.

“What if you can’t?” Teresa asked as she pushed her chicken Alfredo around her plate.

“Then I’ll lose my job.”

* * *

Seth, Maxine, Martha, and I sat in my office later that day. I had four c-agents escort Teresa back to the NIA, mostly to make her feel safe. I thought the immediate threat over.

“You were incredibly lucky, and you take too many risks,” Seth said, shaking his head. He quickly held up his hand. “I know she’s a dear friend but…” His voice trailed off. “Colonel Pannell said the same thing.”

“Maybe as I get older,” I quipped. Seth just shook his head.

“Let’s look at the information NIA collected for us,” I said, changing the subject and interested in knowing if they found anything. I inserted the flash drive and portrayed it on the room monitor. A chart appeared. The first row showed the merchant ships Wanderer and Hobo arriving in the ten-day window prior to the accident/murder, and the passenger ship Tucuxi. Two passengers arrived on the Wanderer (Chaney and Castellan) but did not leave when the Wanderer left eight days later. The Hobo had no passengers. The manifest for the passenger ship listed six people departing (Franks, Reed, Conyers, Ball, Jensen, and Nichols), but none of them left in the five days after the accident/murder.

The next system, Oasis, had two merchants, the Wind Rider and the Mary Beth, arriving within the window. The Mary Beth had two passengers (Roper and Lackey) but they did not leave with the Mary Beth. The passenger ship Borzoi also stopped during the ten-day window and discharged seven passengers (Hill, Thurston, Masson, Bryant, Sizemore, Sanchez, and Jackson). The Mary Beth was the only ship to leave in the five-day window and had no passengers.

“That doesn’t appear to give us anything we can use,” Seth said. I tended to agree, as the merchant ships weren’t the same. In the past, the bad guys had used merchants to deliver their messages, so I had hoped these people were also relying on merchants.

“The third system, Sutan, had two merchant ships arriving within the window, the Lost Trader and the Wheeler, but neither had passengers. Ironically, a merchant ship named the Wheeler had been our team’s first lead in the smugglers case. Those had been exciting times with Shrader, Sinclair, and Wilbur. We had all been wounded at one time or another by assassins the smugglers had paid to kill us, and they had succeeded in killing Wilbur.

The passenger ship Gray Hound had eight persons exit at Sutan (Day, Howard, Franks, Wilson, Bryant, Williams, Jensen, Holguin). That was better; Franks, Bryant, and Jensen appeared twice.

Black Water had two merchant ships, Indigo and Trader Jim, but neither had passengers, but the passenger ship Whippet’s manifest had six people who exited (Joyce, Reed, Gonzales, Howard, Sanchez, and Hill). Now there were six names that appeared together in groups of three: Franks, Jensen, Reed, Bryant, Sanchez, and Hill.

“That’s it. They are using passenger ships to come and go,” I said, positive a search would reveal that the six individuals left on passenger ships.

“But there were no passenger ships leaving during the five-day window,” Maxine said, staring at the data.

“I think it’s the search criteria I gave Admiral Hadley, or they arrived during that window but left later. I want you to meet with her and tell her what we found. Tell her to look for passenger ships leaving those four systems after the Tucuxi, Gray Hound, Borzoi, and Whippet left those systems. Then have her pass the names of those ships and the dates of arrival and departure to Commander Weaver. Then ask Commander Weaver to find the passengers boarding to leave the system,” I said, positive those six individuals would be on the list.

“That doesn’t prove those individuals are the murderers,” Seth said, playing devil’s advocate.

“No, but we can’t ignore the possibility. Following bread crumbs is slow and tedious work. Next we verify the three left as an intact group. If that proves correct, we find where they came from and where they returned to. Each step hopefully will eventually lead us to the ringleaders. But we can’t leak what we are doing or they will change their method of operation and we’ll have to start over, which could result in us being too late to stop them.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chasing Ghosts

“Ma’am, I picked up the results of your query from Commander Weaver,” Maxine said as she entered the office and placed a silver flash drive on my desk. I picked it up and inserted it into my tablet and directed the output to the room monitor.

“Ma’am, none of the names match!” Maxine screeched in horror. It didn’t surprise me. The real question was what to do next.

“Unfortunately, that just proves that they aren’t stupid,” I said, sorting through my options. I clicked on Martha’s icon. “Martha, tell Seth…and Ballard I want to see them. Join them when they arrive.”

“Maybe those aren’t the killers,” Maxine said hesitantly.

I brought up the information from the four systems and reviewed the names we had identified. Sutan had the killers Franks, Bryant, and Jensen while Black Water had Reed, Sanchez, and Hill. I was deep in thought when a knock on the door sounded and Seth, Ballard, and Martha entered.

“Get something to drink and sit,” I said and waited until everyone was seated. “I’ve decided to go to Black Water for a day. To avoid an ambush, I’d like to keep it secret until the last minute.”

“That will be difficult,” Seth said, frowning or maybe scowling at me. “You’ll have to schedule the Committee cruiser, notify your security team they are going, and let the Core members know. Your enemies won’t need their mole.” He shook his head.

“What if you make arrangements based on the premise that I’ve decided I need a mini-vacation? That way you can identify my security and they can make whatever arrangements they need and everyone will know I’ll be away seven days. I’ll take care of the travel arrangements to Black Water.”

“That’s pretty sneaky, Anna,” Ballard said with an approving smile. “It’s funny in a way. Just the other day I was thinking how lucky it was that you didn’t plan to travel off Eastar.”

“What made you decide to go to Black Water?” Seth asked.

“To save time. The results Admiral Hadley gave me from New Zheng, Sutan, Oasis, and Black Water indicated none of the individuals we identified as the potential murderers left the system. But, of course, that’s impossible because they showed up later in another system. Our UnCab opponents were clever but lazy, or too clever. They used the same names to enter the system although they switched the team members either because of their unique skills or to make it harder to identify them as a three-person team. But if I’m right, they left under different names. I’m going to Black Water to identify the killers named Reed, Sanchez, and Hill.”

“How?” Maxine asked.

“By comparing the space station’s tapes with facial recognition software. I’m going in case that doesn’t work and I need to try something else. I know the police commissioner and the NIA station chief so there won’t be any delays. When I know what works, I’ll send someone to Sutan to identify Franks, Bryant, and Jensen.”

“What security do you want?” Ballard asked. Now he was frowning.

“I’ll leave that to you. I’ll be on a military cruiser and hopefully will never leave the space station. If I have to leave it, I’m sure we can recruit some marines to accompany us planet-side. Oh, from my experience, the cruiser isn’t guaranteed to be safe.” I smiled. Ballard shook his head then put it in his hands and rubbed his face.

“Director Paulus, before you came I had an easy, stress-free job.” He looked at me and smiled. “How long do I have to make arrangements?”

“At least a few days.” I patted his arm. “And you can take a week off to relax while I’m gone.” I turned to Martha. “Martha, see if Admiral Webb will see me,” I said and Ballard moaned.

* * *

Landing on the roof of the NIA building definitely reduced the risk to the Committee compound area and going to and from the NIA building. And attacking an armed shuttle in Eastar space would be close to suicide. If the attacking shuttle survived, it would be tracked and shot down before it could exit Eastar space.

Webb had agreed to meet with me late that same afternoon. I entered his office and barely stopped myself from saluting.

He smiled. “Old habits die slowly. I believe the Committee made a wise choice making you Director rather than using you as a troubleshooter,” he said, looking me over as he approached. “Help yourself to coffee and tell me why you are here.”

I mixed my coffee drink before joining him in the padded chair opposite where he had sat. “You of course know I’m working a case where Committee delegates are being killed. Not just the three here on Eastar but four more on their home planet.” I paused and he nodded. “Although I have no proof, I believe it’s an attempt to overthrow the government.” I held up my hand. “Not with the typical military coup but subtly by changing the Committee group’s votes. It’s probably been in progress for two or more years. If I’m right, I have less than a year to stop them.”

“Interesting and clever. A coup that’s not a coup,” he said with his fingers steepled below his chin. “How can I help, Anna?”

“I need transportation to Black Water as soon as you can arrange it and under sealed orders. The group who is orchestrating the coup doesn’t like me.”

He laughed. “You do have a tendency to annoy the criminals’ wonderful plans for money and power.”

“Making matters worse, I know we have a mole in Committee Security, and I believe there is one with connections to the NIA,” I said. “Consequently, I’d like our correspondence to be hand carried.”

“You’re referring to the Hadley incident?” he asked and I nodded. “Are you going to be in the building for an hour or so?” When I nodded again, he continued. “Stop by here on the way out.”

I left and used the stairs to go down two levels to Weaver’s office.

“I wonder if Commander Weaver can spare me a minute or two,” I asked the senior chief who was Weaver’s secretary.

“One moment, ma’am.” He rose, went to the door, knocked, and peeked in. He opened the door and Commander Damon exited, smiling.

“Good morning, Director Paulus, and congratulations. The Committee is lucky to get you.” She beamed and her curly hair danced as she vibrated excitement.

“Thank you, Damon. Come join Commander Weaver and me,” I said, waving toward the office door. As I entered, Weaver stood.

“I heard you were in the building, Director. What can I do for you?” Weaver said and Damon went to his sidebar and mixed my coffee drink and brought it to the table. “You were right about Commander Damon. And I can see why you picked her for the Eastar Station Chief.”

“What I would like is to talk to your best software person,” I said.

“Lieutenant Commander Carlson,” Damon said and Weaver nodded.

“Can you call him to the office?” I asked.

Weaver clicked on his tablet. “Peters, have Commander Carlson come up here,” Weaver said. “I assume this has something to do with your current assignment.”

“Yes. This conversation is P1A restricted. I believe we have a mole in my organization and one either here in the NIA or with a close connection.” Before anyone could respond there was a knock on the door and a man entered. He braced to attention and saluted.

“Commander Carlson reporting as ordered,” he said in a strong baritone voice.

“Sit, Carlson. Director Paulus would like to talk with you.”

“Commander, I have two tapes of people walking down a hallway. Is it possible to use software on the first tape to capture one or more individuals and to use those images to scan the second tape for a match?” I asked.

He answered without hesitation. “Yes, ma’am. If the tapes are digital it should be easy.”

“Any reason you can’t travel?” I asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good. You will be gone around seven days and will have only a few hours’ notice. This conversation is restricted to the people in this room and is under P1A authorization. You will be told more when we are traveling upcountry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I rose. “Thank you, Commander Weaver, Damon. Sorry for the short notice and lack of explanation.” I left, collected my security, and walked back to Webb’s office. At the desk, a lieutenant commander was waiting.

“Ma’am, this is the information you requested.” He handed me a sealed manila envelope.

“Thank you, Commander,” I said, turning and making my way to the elevator to the roof.

* * *

Back in my office I opened the envelope and found a note and another sealed envelope addressed to Captain Taylor.

The UAS cruiser Typhon has been placed on alert for deployment to Westar. They have twenty-four hours to be operational and should be ready to depart any time after noon tomorrow. Captain Taylor is at your service for as long as you need the Typhon. Good hunting.

Admiral Webb

I loved that man. He had always supported me and my actions. I placed the envelope back into my jacket pocket.

“Martha, I’m going for a stroll. Maxine, come along,” I said as I left my office and headed for the Core members area. There I saw Bennett was out so I approached Scherer’s secretary. “Good morning, I was wondering if I could have a word with Majority Leader Scherer sometime today.”

“Good morning, Director Paulus. Wait one moment, I’ll check,” the middle-aged woman said as she stood and went to the office door, knocked, then peeked in. A minute later, she returned and smiled. “Mrs. Scherer will see you now.”

“Thank you,” I said. I indicated Maxine should wait and proceeded to enter the office. “Good morning, Mrs. Scherer. Mr. Bennett isn’t available so I thought I’d update you.”

“Sit, Anna. Coffee?” She pointed to the sidebar when I nodded. I mixed my coffee drink and returned to the empty chair opposite her.

“You have an update?” she asked, watching me intently.

“I’m planning to go to Black Water to resolve an issue and thought I should inform you,” I said and waited for her comments or concerns.

“Isn’t that an unnecessary risk considering our political killers want you dead?” she asked, her stare becoming even more intent. “Do you want to use our spacecraft?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be using a UAS cruiser Admiral Webb is providing. Normally I would explain what I wanted and send someone else, but I believe we must find the people responsible before the year is up or they will have succeeded. In that case, the Core members will be replaced, a new director appointed, and a new agenda in place.”

“How long do you anticipate you will be gone?”

“Seven or eight days. I’ll leave Colonel McKenzie in charge. There shouldn’t be a problem. Committee Security has competent people in charge of the various groups and can run without me.”

“Be careful, Anna.” She grinned. “I like my position as Majority Leader and our new Director. Even Glaser likes you and he’s a hard nut to please.”

* * *

“The plan is for us to leave tomorrow at eleven hundred hours. Martha has made reservations at the Clarmont Cliffs resort in case anyone is watching. Better they plan to attack us there than here at the Committee compound,” I said to Seth, Ballard, Maxine, and Martha before getting ready to leave for home.

“I’ve sent two of our agents undercover to the resort to watch for any unusual activity. They were told you would be arriving tomorrow late,” Seth said. “If we are lucky, we might get a lead to follow if the UnCab send people up there as guests.”

“Good thinking. Seth, I’ve informed Mrs. Scherer that you are in charge while I’m gone. I’m hoping to be back in seven or eight days. It should be peaceful with me gone,” I quipped, then almost laughed when I realized how true that was. My presence had caused all the excitement.

“It relieves the boredom and keeps everyone alert,” Ballard said. “Besides, you're the first director we don’t have to work around… Actually, I don’t think we could.” That produced several snorts and nodding heads.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

UnCab: An Elusive Target

“The information I’m getting is that Paulus is aware of what we are doing and every bit the threat we had anticipated. And as difficult to kill as the rumors. Why?” Harold looked to Maria.

“You’re supposed to be our fixer, Maria,” Steve said. “How hard can it be to kill one woman?”

Maria’s expression didn’t change even though Steve’s remark dripped with scorn. “You’re right, Steve. Killing one woman should be simple. The problem is this isn’t just any woman. To begin with, she has been dealing with people trying to steal that krait since she was six and trying to assassinate her since she was in her teens. As a consequence, she’s had marine security for over fifteen years and now c-agents twenty-four/seven. And several times she would have been killed if she hadn’t been carrying an Mfw and been an excellent shot. Word has it she’s killed more assassins than her security. In fact, I have it on good authority it was Paulus that foiled my first assassination attempt—”

“How?” Steve interrupted, sneering at Maria. “Is she immune to gas?”

“No, experience,” Maria said in a normal voice. “The successful attempt to capture her used gas. Since then she has carried a small mini gas mask with her at all times. Then there is the fact she is a prodigy—”

“What the hell does that matter?” Ryan shouted. “You can’t outthink a bullet.”

“True, Ryan, but she can outthink the thugs we send to kill her. She’s always aware of her surroundings, she responds like a combat veteran, which in a sense she is, and she’s quick to assess the danger and to improvise. Those are the reasons she’s survived countless attempts on her life, including ours.” Maria looked to each man in turn. “And of course, our thugs aren’t fanatics who are willing to die for our cause, otherwise we could strap a bomb to one.” She grinned, imagining the scene. “We’ll succeed eventually. My mole tells me she is planning a vacation upcountry. That will give me time to plan and plenty of opportunities to kill her.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Black Water Gambit

We left the Committee building at eleven hundred hours and boarded two military shuttles, fifteen strong: my normal four-person detail when I left the building, eight additional c-agents, Lieutenant Commander Carlson, Maxine, and me. Master Sergeant Saul Cohen was the ranking c-agent, his round face sporting a close-trimmed mustache and beard which had white patches like looked like frost. He had been a c-agent for fifteen years and spent twelve years in the military police before that.

We arrived at the space station a little over two hours later, cleared customs without any problems, and were at the entrance to the Typhon ten minutes later. The duty officer and the two marine guards straightened when they saw us enter the boarding area. I didn’t blame them. It was certainly unusual for civilians to be in the boarding area of a military cruiser, much less fifteen who looked armed.

“Good afternoon, Commander,” I said to the startled lieutenant commander. “Would you please inform Captain Taylor his passengers have arrived along with his orders.”

“Can I see some identification, ma’am?” the commander asked.

“No, Commander, you may not. Please inform the captain his passengers have arrived.”

He shrugged and contacted the XO and gave him the message, deciding the XO would know what to do. A few minutes later, a full commander appeared. He was middle-aged, tall, and athletic looking.

“I’m Commander Hudson, the Typhon’s XO. Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked, frowning. I couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been told what to expect, and he faced a horde of men and women dressed in civilian clothing, and led by a very young woman.

“I have sealed orders from Admiral Webb for Captain Taylor.”

“Do you have identification?”

“Commander Hudson, you are on alert status awaiting me. I’m here. So, please allow me to enter so that I can talk to Captain Taylor or contact the captain.”

“I’d like some identification—”

“Maxine, call Admiral Webb,” I said, turning to Maxine. Hudson looked like he had just been asked whether he would prefer hanging or a firing squad.

“Ma’am, I’ll get the captain,” he hurriedly said and stepped a few steps away as he reached for his handheld Comm device. Smart move. No XO or captain wanted a call from Admiral Webb, but he had unknown individuals asking to enter, many of whom appeared potentially dangerous. I would have given him my identity if it would have helped but it wouldn’t and I wanted to keep my presence below the radar. Several minutes later Captain Taylor arrived, took a hard look at me, and shook his head.

“I was wondering why we were on alert status,” he said as I held out the manila envelope with his name on the front. He tore open the envelope, read it, and nodded. “They are cleared to enter,” he said, looking toward the duty officer. “Commander Hudson, see if you can find these folks rooms in the officers’ quarters, then join me and my guest in my office. He was silent on his way to his office.

“Well, Director Paulus, can you tell me what is going on?” he asked. I went over to his sidebar and found coffee and mixed my drink.

“Would you like one?” I asked. He nodded. “Anna, please. We have a group of assassins killing Committee members and don’t like me hunting them. They have already tried to kill me a couple of times so I want to keep a low profile, especially since they appear to have high-level connections. I believe there might be a lead on Black Water. But I don’t want it leaked where we are heading.”

He laughed. “You are the most talked about and controversial officer in the navy. And your krait makes you easy to recognize.” He pointed to Red, who was wound around my neck with his head pointing in Taylor’s direction.

“Then it’s good I’m no longer on active duty. I’m a civilian now,” I said and smiled. Taylor was right. A couple of captains had their careers put on hold or were retired after a confrontation with me. And although their actions and not mine had landed them in trouble, I was seen as the problem.

“Retired?” he asked.

I wanted to laugh. Even Taylor, who knew me, couldn’t help but feel I had somehow been at fault and it had finally caught up to me.

“Inactive,” I said, enjoying his confusion.

“But, you’re chasing…” He stuttered to a stop, not sure what to think. Just then there was a knock on the door and Hudson entered.

“Commander Hudson, meet…” He stopped, not sure what my title.

“I’m Anna Paulus, the new Director of Committee Security. My companions are Committee Security c-agents.”

Taylor laughed. “Anna, I think you have gone from the most talked about officer in the navy to the most talked about woman in the UAS. Commander, Director Paulus is the NIA officer who cracked the hijackers’ ring, and the raiders before that. And number one on every criminal’s organization Most Wanted Dead list. Commander, let’s get the Typhon moving. I’ll announce our destination is Black Water when we are halfway to the Wave entrance.”

* * *

“Director Paulus, I’m not totally clear on my responsibilities,” Carlson said as Master Sergeant Cohen, Maxine, and I sat in my small conference room.

“There are three men who arrived on the passenger ship Whippet on the one hundredth day of this year and went by the names Reed, Sanchez, and Hill. They are not listed as leaving on the Whippet when it left or the merchant ships which were in port at that time. The NIA has checked and they apparently didn’t stay on Black Water and didn’t leave on the next passenger ship, the Blue Shark. I want to find them either on Black Water or leaving on some spaceship.”

“How can I help?” Carlson asked, frowning in thought.

“My theory is they left under different names. We can capture the three men’s faces from the space station surveillance tapes. Then I’d like you to run facial recognition software against the surveillance tapes when the Blue Shark departed to see if we get a match. If not, then we’ll try merchant ships around a ten-day window from the time the Whippet departed.”

“You think they acquired new identification and used the documents to exit?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I believe,” I said. “But I do not want our identities disclosed, or what we are searching for, or why. I’m operating under P1A authority so we won’t have to give an explanation. If possible, I don’t want the people I’m searching for to know until we want them to, nor do I want them to know who is searching.”

* * *

When the Typhon docked at the Black Water space station, I left with Commander Carlson, Maxine, and four c-agents and made my way to the station’s offices.

“Can I help you?” said a middle-aged woman behind a marble counter. Two policemen stood to the left where a steel gate blocked entrance into the offices. The woman glanced nervously to the two police before her eyes came back to me.

“I’d like to speak to whoever is in charge of the space station.”

“I’m afraid he’s busy. If you can tell me what you would like to talk with him about, I’ll see if we can get you to the right people.” She gave me an apologetic smile and raised her eyes in an I’m sorry but he’s busy gesture. I took out my P1A placard and held it face high in front of her.

“If you would let him know I’m waiting, I’d appreciate it,” I said and smiled. She paled and picked up a handheld Comm device and turned away to speak. After what appeared to be a discussion with several people, she turned back to me.

“Someone is coming to speak with you,” she said with an I told them shrug.

“Thank you,” I said to let her know I understood and didn’t blame her for others’ stupidity. Two minutes later a thirty-something man approached. He was dressed in an expensive suit, clean shaven, and walked like he was in charge. His face had a sneer when his eyes settled on me.

“The Director is not available. If you will tell me what you want maybe I can direct you to the right person.” He made a dismissive face.

“I assume you’ve come to escort me and my group to the Director’s office.”

“I’m no errand boy, lady—”

“You two.” I pointed to the police. “I have P1A authority, and I’m ordering you to arrest this man and hold him for subsequent transportation to Stonewall Prison for impeding a P1A investigation.”

The two policemen looked at each other, then moved toward the man in the suit.

“Wait! I’ll take you to Director Sheldon’s office,” he shouted, sweat beading on his forehead. I held up my hand to the policemen, who were trying unsuccessfully to hide smiles. Then I waved to the hallway. The man began a quick walk down the hallway, turn left at the first intersection, and continued to the end, which had a medium-size waiting room and several office doors with a secretary or assistant at a desk guarding access. He stopped in front of a gray-haired lady with an angular face and a no-nonsense expression. Her eyes swept the group and settled on me.

“Director Sheldon is—” she started but I walked past her, opened the door, and found a man on the couch with a partially undressed woman half his age. His coat jacket and tie lay on the floor, and his shirt open to his pants. The woman had her skirt pulled up to her waist, shirt open, and her bra pushed over her ample breasts. He looked up. His face registered shock, then flushed red in anger. But before he could speak, I stuck my placard millimeters from their faces, which were nose to nose.

“I’m looking for Director Sheldon. Do either of you know where he or she might be?”

“I’m Sheldon,” he said while untangling himself from the woman and trying to keep from screaming at me. “You have no right—”

“Mr. Sheldon, I have the right to arrest you for impeding a P1A investigation.” I waited while his mind tried to hide his raging anger and to recover his dignity. “I’m going to your conference room where you will have coffee delivered and whoever is in charge of maintaining your security surveillance tapes. Any more delays and the Black Water space station is going to have a new director.” I turned and left the office.

“Ma’am, can you tell me where the Director’s conference room is located?” I asked his secretary, who looked flustered. Eventually, she recovered and pointed.

“The glassed room on the right,” she managed to say.

“Thank you.” I walked down to the room, opened the door, and entered. The oval wooden conference table looked to hold at least twenty people with leather executive chairs. The view was breathtaking as it looked out into space. The Black Water planet could also be seen as well as a view of incoming spacecraft. I chose a seat at the middle of the table and sat just as a young man arrived pushing a cart with coffee and snacks.

“Thank you. You can just leave it. We can serve ourselves,” I said and smiled when Maxine jumped up and mixed my coffee drink.

“That was interesting,” she said as she placed my coffee in front of me and sat to my right. “You are always so calm at work…”

“That’s because everyone conducts themselves as professionals, and I feel part of a team with a shared goal,” I said, realizing it was true. As the Director of NIA Stations, I didn’t get that feeling as my team was located on different planets, and I couldn’t interact with them on a face-to-face basis. Admirals may like the separation, I didn’t. Admirals may like dispensing orders, I didn’t. I wanted the interaction. Others may have better ideas, or concerns, that I wanted to hear. The door opened and a man in his forties rushed in, jarring me out of my thoughts.

“I’m Carl Cortez, I’m responsible for the surveillance tapes.” His head jerked around as he tried to determine to whom he was supposed to report.

“Hello, Mr. Cortez. Help yourself to something to drink and have a seat,” I said and waited. He ignored the coffee and sat.

“Mr. Cortez, I’m operating under P1A authorization so I’m not concerned with local directives or legal issues. I would like all the surveillance tapes for day one hundred of this year. And all the tapes for the day the next passenger ship arrived Black Water after the Whippet departed. Commander Carlson will go with you to help.”

* * *

Carlson and Cortez returned about an hour later with a small desktop unit to play the tapes. Carlson then directed the output through his computer and then to the wall monitors.

“This is the tape of the Whippet arriving and the passengers departing. If you can identify the three individuals you want, I’ll capture their facial images.” He pressed a key on his computer and the passengers began moving in slow motion. I put the grainy pictures Commander Holt had sent Weaver and then watched as the passengers passed near the camera positioned in the departure lounge.

“That one,” I said as a man identified as Reed stepped out of the Whippet. “Mark that one as P1.”

Carlson nodded, typed something, and restarted the tape. About halfway through the debarking I help up my hand.

“Stop. The man on the right. Designate him as P2,” I said. He resembled the image I had for Sanchez. Then five people later, “That woman. Designate her P3,” I said, pleased that they were so easy to identify. I wondered if we might be able to use the captured images to place one or more of the individuals near Owen McDonald’s vehicle or home prior to the vehicle accident that killed him.

“These are the tapes for the day the Blue Shark departed, on the one hundred eleventh day of this year,” Cortez said and handed the tape to Carlson.

“Ma’am, I thought I’d let the software recognition program run to see if it can identify a match. There is no need to watch the tape. I nodded agreement and got up and mixed another coffee.

An hour later, Carlson had run the ten tapes from that day, actually twelve-hour tapes from five different locations authorized for visitors.

“Ma’am, the software only identified one individual, P2, on tapes six, seven, and nine,” Carlson said, lips pursed in concern.

“How accurate is the software, Commander?” I asked.

“It’s excellent but it can be defeated if you’re aware you’re being taped or you intentionally add some artificial aids that throw off the measures the program is comparing for a match.”

“Let me look at tape nine,” I said as nine was at the departure lounge. He nodded and inserted a tape and the video appeared on the room monitor.

For the next hour, I watched the tape in slow motion. “There!” I exclaimed, after Red hissed in my ear. I was just going to say I made a mistake when a harder look suggested a resemblance. Carlson was quick to split the screen. On one half was P2 from the Whippet tape and on the other half the segment from tape nine. He ran them over and over again. Finally, he zoomed in on the man’s nose.

“See that?” Carlson said. “He’s done something to change the shape of his nose, probably with wax. But that’s definitely P2. You’ve got great eyes.”

I didn’t think it wise to mention Red found him. “Well, see if we can find P3, the woman.”

We finally did after another two hours by eliminating the other five women since the woman we were after managed to avoid showing her face to the cameras. Now we had the new names: Reed was Pittman, Sanchez was Guerrero, and Hill was Brock. As I wanted to return to Eastar as soon as possible, I had the NIA station chief come to the Typhon.

“Sorry, Commander Hoff, having you come to the space station, but I have people trying to kill me so I’m trying to minimize my exposure,” I said when he arrived. “We have identified the team of assassins that killed Mr. Owen McDonald. I’d like you in coordination with the police to review any tapes they can find that has McDonald’s vehicle and determine if you can place one or more of these individuals around the vehicle,” I said, handing him a flash drive with several facial and full-length images of the three individuals. “Remember this is a P1A investigation. People can’t talk about what they are doing or why or for whom.”

“I understand, ma’am. Who should I report our findings to?” Hoff asked.

“Report your findings to Commander Weaver.”

We left for Eastar two hours later.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Searching for Ghosts

I exited the Typhon with Carlson, Maxine, and my security three days later and went straight to the shuttle booking office. It was a small office adjacent to a café which provided military personnel a place to eat and have something to drink either to wait for the next scheduled shuttle or for those confined to the ship. The shuttle office had only a few staff as their function was solely to book seats on the shuttle. Each of the five levels had their own shuttle service: Two were exclusively military, one for passenger spacecraft, and two for merchants. When I entered the office, a middle-aged woman sat behind the counter.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” she asked, scanning Maxine and the four men who accompanied me.

“Who would have a list of the passengers arriving on the Blue Shark from Black Water?”

“I’m sorry, but that information is confidential.” She gave me an apologetic smile. I held up my P1A placard.

“Please call him for me,” I said and smiled at the shocked look on her face.

“Please wait. I need to call my supervisor,” she stammered.

I nodded. Not everyone knew what a P1A authorization meant, and clerks tended to err on the side of caution. Mistakes could cost them their job or time in the doghouse. She ran off and a minute later an average-looking young man in his late thirties appeared.

“I’m Mr. Sherdan, the duty manager. Mrs. Jennings said you wanted information about passengers on the Blue Shark,” he said, as he evaluated me and frowned. I guess he wasn’t impressed. I held up my placard.

“That’s correct, Mr. Sherdan. I want to speak to whoever has access to that information without further delays. You have my authorization,” I said, still holding up my P1A placard. He moved his face closer to the placard and spent a minute looking at it, then from it to me verifying it was my face on the placard.

“Yes, ma’am. If you will accompany me to our conference room, I’ll get him on speaker,” he said and smiled.

The conference room looked made for ten to fifteen people, the furniture a standard metal conference table and chairs. He punched something into a device on the table and a minute later a female voice spoke.

“Space station, passenger office. Miss Roberts speaking.”

“Suzie, this is John at the military office on ring five. I have someone in my office with P1A authority who wants information on the passengers who were on the last flight from Black Water.”

“That will be Mr. Winfield. Wait and I’ll get him,” Suzie said and the line went quiet. Several minutes later a male voice spoke.

“This is Mr. Winfield. Who am I speaking to?”

“Is there anyone else in the room with you?” I asked.

“No.”

“My name is Anna Paulus and this conversation is classified under P1A authority. That is as much for your protection as mine. Mr. Sherdan has seen my authorization. I want to know if there was a Pittman, Guerrero, and or Brock on the Blue Shark last stop at Eastar and whether they departed here,” I said.

I heard him tapping on this tablet. “Yes, Miss Paulus. All three departed the Blue Shark at Eastar. Anything else?” he asked.

“Do you have their home or contact information?” I crossed my fingers as I waited for an answer.

“Well yes, everyone is required to show a UAS passport when boarding or departing a passenger ship. It’s the law,” he said with emphasis on the last three words.

“Thank you, Mr. Winfield. You have been very helpful. I’m sending Maxine Landon to see you. Please give her any help she needs to research a few names for me.”

I cut the connection and turned to Maxine. “Sorry, Maxine. I know you are anxious to get home. Search the passenger manifests for all flights leaving and arriving for the names Reed, Pittman, Sanchez, Guerrero, Hill, and Brock. If you find those names get their passport information.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, looking eager.

We left the office and I decided to visit the café, as we had another thirty minutes to wait for the next shuttle. The café was only about twenty percent occupied, all military: four enlisted navy, five marines, and four navy officers—three male lieutenants sitting together and a female lieutenant commander sitting alone. She reminded me of Kris Sinclair in physical appearance but not the face. Kris had a friendly, warm face whereas this woman lacked emotion…and looked familiar like I’d seen her before. Maybe I’d think of it if I had a shot of coffee, I mused as I headed for the counter. As I began walking, Red slipped around my neck with his head on my shoulder, which was unusual when I was in a public place. I noticed the female commander had risen and was also heading for the counter. She appeared to speed up, as if she wanted to get there first. As she neared, I realized where I had seen her—in the Black Water tapes. She was Hill alias Brock, I thought as Red rose on my shoulder hissing.

My head whipped around to see the woman’s face frozen in fear, eyes locked on Red and a hypodermic needle in her hand. I jerked backward as I reached under my jacket for my Sig Sauer. My first concern was to get Red and me out of her reach. If Red lunged toward her he could get stabbed with the needle and we would both die. The woman dropped the syringe as she dove away, rolled, and came up kneeling with a Beretta PX4 Storm Compact handgun. We fired simultaneously, followed by multiple shots from my security. She was flung backward into the table with the four sailors, sending them and their chairs flying in all directions. Luckily, I had been stumbling backward when she fired and the shot only grazed my arm. She on the other hand had been stable and had been hit in the chest multiple times. I and everyone else had been aiming center mass as she knelt in front of the table with the four sailors.

“Are you all right?” Maxine said as she examined my jacket sleeve which the bullet had ripped through a few centimeters below my shoulder.

I grabbed Red and pulled him from around my neck and proceeded to examined him. He hung loose, letting me scrutinize every inch. When I was satisfied, I kissed his head and placed him inside my blouse before removing my jacket. My right sleeve was soaked with blood.

“Come, Director, we need the medics to take a look at the wound. It looks like the bullet ripped the skin but didn’t enter, but it’s bleeding a lot.”

Maxine and another agent stayed by my side as we made our way down the hallway to the small first-aid station. The nurse contacted the Typhon and they sent a young doctor to look at the wound.

“You were lucky, Anna,” he said after I gave him my first name. “The bullet entered only a few millimeters deep. I’ve stopped the bleeding but you’ll need a few stiches. It should be healed in a week.” It took another hour as he stitched the cut, added some quick heal salve, and dressed the wound.

Although it was early I chose to go directly home.

* * *

“How are you feeling, Daughter?” Alexa asked when she entered the living room and saw me sitting on the sofa listening to music. “I got your message that the wound was minor. Thank you. The incident at the space station was on all the news channels, and I would have been worried sick otherwise.” As she walked over to me I loosened the oversized shirt I was wearing so she could look. “Judging by the small dressing it doesn’t look too bad. So, what really happened, as I don’t imagine the newsies got the story right—they got the Director’s version.”

“An assassin, who it turns out was one of the three I had identified on Black Water, tried to stick a hypodermic needle in me. Not sure what is in the syringe but it probably isn’t a flu or vitamin shot. They sent it out to be analyzed. Just as she was about to stab me, Red rose up off my shoulder, fangs exposed and ready to strike. The assassin reflexively jumped back. She had good reflexes and dove away, rolled to a kneeling position, and began firing. Probably saved my life that I wasn’t as graceful. When I twisted away from the hypodermic needle, I hit the food counter and stumbled backward while trying to aim and fire as I fell. Wasn’t necessary, my entire security fired at her. I don’t think any of them missed,” I said, kissing Red again.

Alexa laughed. “The official version claims a woman dressed as a navy commander gained access to the military level for some still unknown reason. When she was confronted, she drew a gun and fired several shots, wounding a bystander. She was killed by security. They interviewed several sailors who were there. Sounded like they missed everything except the woman being killed in front of their table. The officers claimed to have missed the entire incident except for the shooting.”

“The head of my security had a chance to debrief them before the newsies got to them.” I grinned. We tried to keep the story simple. That way it’s easier to remember if you have to repeat it. Of course, whoever commissioned the hit will know why she was there and who she was after, but hopefully, they won’t know what went wrong.”

“Red,” Alexa said as she stroked his little red head.

CHAPTER TWENTY

UnCab: Kill Paulus at All Costs

She had heard them arguing as she reached for the door. And as she entered, they stopped and turned to stare at her. Harold sat on one couch and Ryan and Steve on the other. All three men had drinks in their hands, the glasses less than half full.

“I repeat, she’s clever,” Maria said as she walked over to the bar and poured a glass of carbonated water. “Her secretary had reservations at the upcountry resort, Clarmont Cliffs, her security was told to expect to stay a week…and she flew out on the UAS cruiser Typhon to Black Water.”

“You said you had a mole!” Ryan shouted.

“I do and it’s obvious she knows we do. Although I don’t think she knows who.” Maria paused for a sip of her drink and sat next to Harold. “When I found out, I decided to try using the kill-squad. I obtained credentials for one of the female members to impersonate a lieutenant commander and be on the space station when Paulus arrived. She thought she could kill Paulus and escape undetected.”

“How?” Steve asked. “The only way off is by shuttle. If she killed Paulus, they would lock down that level and investigate everyone there.”

“That was the beauty of her plan. She had me obtain a hypodermic syringe with a slow-acting poison. She planned to inject the krait sometime before or during the shuttle ride to the planet.” Maria took another sip while the men absorbed the scenario. “If all went well the snake wouldn’t die until well after Paulus was home or at work.”

“Couldn’t Paulus get another krait?” Harold asked.

“Maybe. But it would be easy to hit the research labs and kill off the existing ones in captivity. Those labs aren’t that well-guarded and there aren’t that many labs or red-headed kraits.”

“What happened?” Steve asked, frowning. Being military, he knew the security on the military levels and doubted the agent could get away even if she succeeded.

“Don’t know,” Maria admitted. The story the newsies reported isn’t consistent with what was planned. They claimed a woman dressed as a navy commander gained access to the military level, and when she was confronted drew a gun and fired several shots, wounding a bystander before being killed by security.”

“Well, that’s certainly possible,” Steve said.

“No, it’s not. That wasn't the plan and her credentials were excellent forgeries that would have taken days to discover they weren’t genuine,” Maria said. “We will have to wait and see. She may have succeeded in injecting the krait and been caught. If not, I may have to use our mole.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Vanishing Crumbs

“Good morning, Martha, Maxine,” I said as they entered my office.

“Good morning, Anna,” they both said as Martha sat at my table and opened her tablet. Maxine went straight to my sidebar, mixed my coffee, and set it down on the table next to me as she sat.

“Ma’am, I’ve verified the passports are real, the people are residents of Eastar, and they live at the address on the passport, however the picture on the passport isn’t the individual with that name and address,” Maxine said, looking hesitantly at me for my reaction.

“Good work, Maxine. It’s about what I expected. The people who hired these people have money, high-level connections, and access.”

“Then how do we catch them?” Maxine asked, her frustration evident in her voice and hangdog expression.

“By hard work and patience. They are clever and cautious but not perfect. We have to find those small mistakes they make and hope that leads us to them. It’s not so much a question of whether we will find them, but a question of whether we will find them before they achieve their objective.”

“And if they succeed?” Maxine asked, looking worried.

“You’ll get a new boss. Other than that, I doubt you will notice the change of power,” I said. In fact, I doubted most people in the UAS would notice the change. The Alliance would move in a different direction. Policies and programs would change but life would go on, because if too many people were adversely impacted there would be a revolution and the party in power would be ejected.

“Then we had better find and destroy them, since I’m happy with the boss I have,” Maxine said, looking determined.

“Martha, get Commander Weaver on the Comm link,” I said and waited. Frankly, I agreed with Maxine. I liked the Core group and my current job.

“Ma’am, he’s on your tablet’s Comm.” Martha pointed to my tablet.

“Good morning, Commander Weaver. I have a favor to ask.”

“Good morning, Director Paulus. What can I do for you?” Weaver looked in a good mood and was smiling.

“I’d like to borrow Commander Carlson for a week or so to do more of what he has been doing for me.”

“Where would you like him to report? You’re our top priority, even if you hadn’t recommended me to replace you.” He gave me an award-winning grin.

“Thank you. Have him come to my office,” I said and clicked off.

“Martha, see if you can get me an appointment with General Guzman,” I said, beginning to think positively and aggressively. I wasn’t going to beat the UnCab by waiting for them to make mistakes—maybe I could help. I smiled.

“Anna, he asked if you could meet him tomorrow morning for breakfast at the Army and Marine Headquarters building at Fort Douglas?” Martha looked to me and I nodded.

“Martha, keep that between us. I’ll go straight there from home,” I said when she finished.

* * *

A knock and Martha peeked in. “Commander Carlson is here, ma’am,” she said and I nodded to let him in. She opened the door wide and Carlson walked in followed by Maxine. I could tell he had the same problem—deciding who required a salute. I rose and pointed to my table.

“Would you like something to drink, Carlson?”

“Coffee, black,” he said. I sat as Maxine poured the drinks and brought them to the table.

“Gerry, I’d like you to load the pictures of the two men we identified at Black Water into Eastar’s space station’s facial recognition program. Then I want you to go to Sutan and do what we did at Black Water. The three persons you are looking for are Franks, Bryant, and Jensen, who arrived on the Gray Hound on day one hundred twenty. When you find them, come back to Eastar and add them to the faces of Reed alias Pittman and Sanchez alias Guerrero. I’d like the system watching on all five levels. If the system recognizes one it should send a signal to a designated monitor.” I waited for him to nod his understanding. “I’ll get you P1A authorization so you shouldn’t have any problems. Remember, the folks at Sutan are not entitled to know what you are doing or why or for whom.”

* * *

“You’re starting early today, ma’am,” Sergeant Brewer, the head of today’s detail, said as I exited the house and entered the shuttle. I had Maxine notify the detail to pick me up early, and she had accompanied them.

“We’re going to Fort Douglas. I have a breakfast meeting with General Guzman,” I said as I took my seat in the shuttle.

“You know General Guzman, ma’am?” Maxine asked. Most people, especially the c-agents, knew Guzman was the senior army/marine officer.

“Yes, he is a personal friend of Admiral Webb. He helped me during the kidnapping project,” I said. Actually, during the initial phases of the investigation he was a hindrance, not that I blamed him. His daughter had been kidnapped and his protective father’s instincts were driving him. But he had proved useful in the end.

We were cleared to enter Fort Douglas air space and allowed to land at the Headquarters landing pad when they found I had a meeting with General Guzman. I preferred they didn’t know specifically who I was or why I was here. Guzman had notified the lobby of my planned arrival and my security and I had no problem entering with weapons and escorted to Guzman’s office.

“Anna…or is it Director Paulus?” he said as he stood from behind his desk.

“Anna,” I said, smiling. “I think we parted friends.”

“Patrick,” he said. “Yes, on very good terms.”

“How is Susan doing?” I asked. “She wrote me several times but I haven’t heard from her recently.”

“You were right. She’s doing remarkably well. I took your advice and let her decide what to say and what to withhold. That’s kept us close. She changed her major from mechanical engineering to biology. I think she’s debating whether to be a medical professional like a doctor or go into medical research. Sometimes I think she’s working herself too hard, but I’m following your advice and letting her set her own pace. She knows I’m there if she wants something.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Susan’s a strong woman and capable of deciding on the right path for her.”

“Thanks to you,” Guzman said. “Let’s go to breakfast and you can tell me what the Director of Committee Security wants from me.” He led me to a small dining room which had ten four-person tables with tablecloths, menus, and waiters.

“I’ve five assassins I’m attempting to cut their careers short. I believe their current homes are on Eastar and I’m in the process of identifying them. I’d like a squad of marines to monitor the passengers at the space station and to arrest any that our software facial recognition program flags.” I went on to explain what the assassins were doing and its potential impact on the UAS.

“That’s quite a clever coup. And I can understand why they want you dead.” He laughed. “Anything you want, Anna.”

After breakfast, we called our aides and discussed the details of the plan. Carlson would set up a monitoring station which would have an alarm that would sound when the software identified a potential match and the marines would detain that individual for me to question. In addition, they would monitor all passengers looking for a match to the aliases the assassins had been using. I left thinking I had done all I could do given the small amount of data we had. Even if it didn’t lead to the UnCab’s leaders, it was possible it could delay their coup and give me more time to find them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A Game of Guesses

“That was a fun assignment, ma’am,” Carlson said as he sat at my small table with Seth, Maxine, and Martha. “Just like on Black Water, the three used different identifications for the return trip to Eastar on the Blue Dolphin—Franks used Tucker, Bryant used Henry, and the woman Jensen used Chambers. I’ve entered them into the Eastar alert software along with better facial images. If either the names or images are detected, the marines General Guzman has monitoring the software will be notified and they can detain that person.” He smiled. “If you insert this flash drive on your Comm or tablet, you will also be notified.”

“Thank you, Commander. That was good work,” I said as I accepted the silver flash drive. I inserted it into my tablet and double clicked on the file icon that appeared. Within seconds an icon that looked like a figure in an orange prison suit and a ball and chain attached to its ankle appeared. “Excellent. Thank you, Gerry.”

“The icon will flash if the software finds a match and the name will appear as well as the spaceship he or she is arriving or departing on.” He gave me a more detailed account of his activities, returned his P1A placard, and left.

“Even if you identify the individuals, the UnCab will just hire new assassins,” Seth said. I sensed he was trying to understand my strategy.

“True. I’m trying to force them to make mistakes we can use to catch them. I suspect the original six were very experienced assassins whose specialty was to make the kill look like something it wasn’t—an accident or random robbery or whatever. My assumption is that they hope to achieve their coup this year. If I can derail their plans, it might give us more time to discover who they are. Better yet, their replacement may not be as good and make mistakes we can use to find them. Waiting for them to make a mistake isn’t a good strategy but sometimes the only one available.”

* * *

That night I sat thinking about the actions I had put in motion and realized the murders or accidents didn’t have to occur at the delegates’ home planets. If the mix was right, a murder here on Eastar would work just as well. So, what I needed to know was the system where one kill could impact the system’s vote. There was a couple of weeks before the delegates would be returning to Eastar for the start of the Committee’s fall session. I decided I needed to know immediately.

To: Commander Weaver, Director, NIA Stations

Commander Weaver, it’s imperative that I know each of the five delegates’ party affiliation for each system’s delegation. Use Crazy Numbers for all correspondence. This is an Urgent P1A request.

Director Paulus, Committee Security

If I was right, that would flag all the systems where one delegate could change the system’s party vote and therefore alter the power within the Committee. And may highlight where the vulnerability was most likely: where the death of one delegate would change the system delegation’s vote—then Eastar was a possibility; where the death of one delegate would create a tie—then the system was the only possibility; and where the death of one delegate made no change—eliminated the system as a candidate. I knew the results wouldn’t be in for a couple of days and there was nothing I could do to speed it up.

* * *

“What’s wrong, Anna? You look as nervous as a captain waiting to find out his next assignment.” Alexa smiled awaiting my response.

“More like a navigator not sure if she used the right system table for the jump the captain just executed,” I said. Alexa choked a laugh. “Because of the time restriction, I’m trying to force the UnCab into making a mistake which is just as likely to result in me making one. And I’m afraid the one that makes the first mistake will be the loser.”

“It’s like that in an encounter with an enemy cruiser,” Alexa said. “Surprise is the captain’s best advantage, consequently the winner is the one who can surprise her opponent. But when both captains are experienced, the battle frequently comes down to who has the best ship, people, or gets the luckiest breaks.”

“Since we aren’t fighting with cruisers and the UnCab isn’t stupid, I guess it will come down to who gets the luckiest breaks.”

* * *

“Ma’am, Commander Weaver has the results to your urgent request,” Maxine said as she burst into my office after a perfunctory knock. She held a silver flash drive between her thumb and forefinger. I noticed Seth and Martha followed her. “He called me early this morning and said I could pick it up for you to see.”

I waved her to my desk, plugged it into my tablet, and updated the matrix I had created depicting the results of the last four years. Unfortunately, those results were abbreviated in the form of two numbers and the delegation’s vote, i.e., 3-2C, which indicated three delegates were aligned with the Conservative group and two with the Liberal group, or 2-3L, where two were aligned with the Conservative group and three with the Liberal group. The “C” meant the Conservative delegates were in the majority and “L” that the Liberals delegates were in the majority. The final result was interesting, but I said nothing, waiting for Seth and Maxine to comment.

“It interesting,” Seth said frowning in thought, “seeing each delegate’s party affiliation in the system’s delegation. One tends to think of them as a unified group but they aren’t. For instance, Holy Cross’s delegation is IICLS—two Independents, a Conservative, a Liberal, and a Socialist, which results in a Conservative vote since the Independents are aligned with the Conservative party. But how does that help us?”

“We’re looking for systems where one death could potentially switch the current vote,” I said to clarify why I wanted the data.

“Potentially, any 2-3 or 3-2 delegation could be affected by the death of one of their delegates,” Maxine said, looking frustrated.

“True, Maxine. Let’s look at it from a party perspective. First take the Socialists. How many sites could be influenced by the death of one delegate?” I asked.

“Three, Safe Harbor, Holy Cross, and Zespa,” Seth said, with a smile.

“That would give the Socialists four votes and the Liberals four, giving the Liberal party the majority vote. Now about the Liberals?”

“Five, Sutan, Oxax, Stone Ring, Holy Cross, and Black Water,” Maxine said, smiling at being first.

“Correct. Giving the Liberals nine votes and a clear majority without any other party,” I said. “Now the Independents.”

“Five, Safe Harbor, Oxax, Holy Cross, Oasis, and Truth Star.” Maxine again.

“Giving the Independents six votes and the majority party and the Conservative group a twelve to two majority. How about the Expansionists?”

“Three,” Martha said, grinning. “New Zheng, Black Water, and Shadows Rest.”

“Right, giving the Expansionists five votes and the majority party and the Conservative group a ten to four advantage,” I said, then added, “And what about the Conservatives?”

“Six,” Maxine said. “Safe Harbor, New Zheng, Sutan, Oxax, Holy Cross, and Truth Star. That would give the Conservatives nine votes and a majority group position without any alliances.”

“Correct. So given these results, who are the big winners?”

“Looks like the Conservatives or the Liberals,” Seth said, frowning at the results. “They could each have the Majority votes without needing an alliance.”

“That’s true, Seth, but one would need five and the other six kills to reach that level of control. I wonder if they have that many known replacements available. Let’s say they are worried about our investigation and want a quick win immediately. Who would be the likely candidates?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting them to work through the exercise in case I missed something.

“The Conservatives,” Seth said, nodding. “By changing a Liberal or Social delegate to a Conservative at any one of the six systems—Safe Harbor, New Zheng Sutan, Oxax, Holy Cross, or Truth Star.”

“And the Expansionists,” Maxine said. “By changing a Liberal vote on New Zheng or Oasis, or an Independent on Shadows Rest.”

“No wonder they want you dead,” Seth added while nodding.

“That’s the most logical based on the current data and either would be the fastest way in the shortest time. But it’s based on very thin data,” I said. “What complicates the problem is that all of the Conservative kills would work on Eastar as well as their home planet. But only one of the three Expansionists kills would also work on Eastar. That’s eight delegations and except for two they are as vulnerable on Eastar as at home.” I felt like screaming. I had hoped the information would lead to one group and one or two delegations—something manageable. We sat there in silence staring at the information.

I shot to my feet. “It has to be the Expansionists,” I said, knowing it was a gamble but time didn’t allow for the luxury of waiting for more information.

“Why?” Seth and Maxine said simultaneously.

“Eastar’s three murders reduced the Conservative votes from eight to six and increased the Expansionists from one to three. Then the system’s accidents further decreased the Conservatives from six to three. And although it didn’t increase the Expansionists’ vote it may have now set up New Zheng and or Shadows Rest for the next kill. Doesn’t appear logical that the Conservatives would make kills to reduce their votes when they already had a solid lead.”

“Boss, you’re scary,” Seth said. “What now?”

“We know the kill teams are here on Eastar. If that is correct, we keep them from leaving Eastar. If that works, then we have to figure out how to keep the Oasis’s three Liberal delegates safe. Martha, I think Bennett would like an update,” I said, feeling very tired and hating the assumptions I was being forced to make.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

UnCab: Emergency Meeting

Steve, Ryan, and Maria sat quietly, not sure why Harold had called an emergency meeting but knowing it wouldn’t be good news. Good news traveled by messenger on foot while bad news was delivered by skimmer. Except for Director Paulus, everything appeared to be proceeding on schedule. And Paulus was more of a potential problem than a real one since they were only three delegations away from a commanding position.

“We have a problem,” Harold said, the muscles on his face stiff with anger or maybe hate. “Director Paulus has gone from a potential problem to a LIVING, BREATHING NIGHTMARE!” He screamed the last three words, closing his eyes in an attempt to gain his composure. “She’s collected the current configuration of each system’s delegation, which unless she’s stupid will permit her to correctly deduce which party we are working to bring to power. Does anyone here doubt she won’t figure it out?” Silence followed which screamed their silent agreement. “I propose we accelerate our schedule and convert one more delegation immediately. Any objections?”

“One more will give us control of the Conservative group and we can retire Paulus,” Ryan said with a wry grin.

“I don’t think Bennett, Scherer, or Glaser would support that move and we wouldn’t have sufficient votes to force the issue. No, Paulus must die and now—immediately. Maria, I don’t care how you do it, but do it, even if you have to kill her yourself. Am I clear?”

“I have been trying to make it look like—”

“Kill her! I don’t care who they think assassinated her, so long as they can’t trace it directly back to us four. KILL HER!” Harold sat, his face red with rage.

“Harold’s right,” Ryan said. “If she can develop a strong case that some party is killing delegates, all the other parties will unite against us and will create a special commission to investigate the murders, accidents, and replacement delegates. Eventually, that would lead back to us, and I wouldn’t doubt they would ban our party from future participation.”

“I agree with Ryan,” Steve said. “In this kind of an engagement, rumors are equivalent to bullets and missiles. I know firsthand Paulus is up to something. She met with Guzman and has him providing troops to support whatever she has planned.”

“That’s the problem with Paulus as the Director of Committee Security. She has high-level connections in NIA and the Military, P1A authority, and the support of the senior Committee Security personnel. It should have taken her a year to get acclimated and gain their support. My mole tells me she did it in a few weeks,” Maria said. “And she’s deduced I have a mole in her organization and has been feeding him with false information, which caused me to waste time and money preparing to kill her in the wrong location and losing an opportunity at the location she visited.” Maria paused for a sip of water. “Now that I know collateral damage isn’t important and you don’t care if people deduce it was an assassination, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Harold appeared with four glasses and filled each with an old Chateau Margaux worth at least an admiral’s monthly pay.

“To success,” he said.

The other three stood and raised their glasses. “To success.”

“And Paulus’s death,” Maria added.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The First Mistake Loses the Game

I entered Bennett’s office not sure what to say. No, that wasn’t true. I wasn’t sure of their reaction to my lack of a solution. As I expected, Scherer and Glaser were present.

“Good morning, Director Paulus. I assume this unscheduled update isn’t good news,” Bennett said. No one looked relaxed, so I suspected they all felt the same and were braced for the bad news.

“Good morning, Mr. Bennett, Mrs. Scherer, and Mr. Glaser. I felt you would want to know the current status of my investigation even though it’s based solely on assumptions I’ve made on very limited data. I don’t like to make assumptions, but in this case, I believe the UnCab has a couple of years’ head start and are close to realizing their goal.” I was interrupted before I could say more.

“How close?” Bennett asked.

“One kill,” I said and was bombarded with multiple questions. I chose to remain silent since the questions were diverse and disjointed—how, when, who, where… Eventually, Bennett banged on his desk and the room became quiet.

“Paulus, can you elaborate?”

“Yes, sir. As you are aware from my last update, the murders and accidents have shifted the balance of power in the Committee almost to parity—from ten-to-four to eight-to-six. But what isn’t so obvious is the party shift taking place. Before this year the Conservatives had eight votes and didn’t need an alliance to have the majority. Today they have only three votes. The Liberals on the other hand originally had three votes and now have five and are the largest voting party—”

“Is the UnCab supporting the liberals?” Bennett asked, which got a glare from Glaser.

“That’s part of the problem with the data. I’ve obtained the present configuration of each system’s delegation. With only two kills, the Liberals and the Independents could secure control of their current alliance and be the majority party—” I couldn’t continue for the pandemonium that erupted. Slowly the room became quiet and I continued. “With one kill, the Conservatives or the Expansionists could also secure control of their alliance and be the majority party.”

“One kill?” Scherer asked. “Where?”

“That’s part of the problem. Potentially at any one of eight systems and all but two would be equally effective on Eastar.”

This time the questions and comments among the three lasted for several minutes before they realized I wasn’t participating.

“Can you stop the killings?” Bennett asked.

“To stop the killing, I must be able to identify the UnCab. To stop their current attempt to secure the majority vote, I must be able to identify who the UnCab is supporting,” I said.

“Can you? According to what you said, it could be any party except the Socialists,” Scherer said, giving me a worried yet hopeful look.

“Based on the data I have today, I’ve come to the conclusion the UnCab is backing the Expansionist party.” I held up my hand to stop comments or questions. “If I’m right, their plan envisions three kills by next year’s elections, but they may see securing partial control as a way of enabling them to retire or hinder me while they try to kill me.” This time I had time to make my coffee drink before the room returned to quiet. “Again, if I’m right and it’s the Expansionists, then there are only three possible delegations—New Zheng, Oasis, and Shadows Rest—and two must be accomplished at their home system. Based on this assumption I’m taking action to protect the Liberals on the delegations.”

“What if you are wrong?” Glaser asked, surprising me.

“Then it’s the Liberals or the Independents. In that case we may be alerted before they can complete the coup as they need two kills.”

“What if it’s the Conservatives?” Glaser again.

“Then they will succeed, because they are much smarter than me,” I said. “Of course, if it were my decision, I’d try to kill the Director of Committee Security so I wouldn’t be rushed into a premature kill that may make the Committee suspicious.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you,” Scherer said more as a statement than a question.

“In my opinion, the coup was intended to occur over a couple of years and appear to be a collection of chance occurrences that happened to benefit the Expansionists. If it looked deliberate, the Committee could form an alliance to negate the Expansionist vote or choose to void their party membership. They know what I’m doing because of their high-level positions or connections and it’s forcing them to accelerate their schedule.”

“You should resign,” Scherer said. “Before they succeed.”

“I like this job and hate change, so you will have to fire me to get me to leave.” I shrugged, giving Scherer a wry smile.

* * *

“You look tired,” Alexa said as we sat down for dinner.

“The UnCab is forcing me to make too many assumptions and it’s driving me crazy. I’m more comfortable collecting all the available information before making a reasonable conjecture on how to proceed. In this case, the UnCab could be supporting any one of the parties except the Socialist. But to stop them, I’ll have to focus on one.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, the Expansionist party. Which unless I’m wrong will force them to act prematurely or give me more time to pursue them,” I said reluctantly as Alexa wasn’t stupid.

“Or to eliminate the threat,” Alexa whispered, her face losing some of its color.

“Mrs. Scherer said I should resign.”

“Which you refused.” Alexa gave a snort.

“I told them I liked being the Director and hated change, so they would have to fire me,” I said, feeling guilty for the stress I knew it would cause my mother. If I ever did resign, it would be for Alexa but not for me.

Alexa rose and came over to me, leaning down and wrapping me in her embrace. “As silly as it sounds, I trust Red to keep you safe and that you will destroy those trying to play God.”

* * *

My tablet chimed just as Maxine set down my coffee and Seth, Maxine, Martha, and I were about to begin the day. Before I could look it chimed again. When I looked, the software Carlson had installed on my tablet had two messages:

Facial recognition confirmed for the individual identified as Jensen and Chambers on level three scheduled to depart on the passenger ship Quick Silver. Destination: New Zheng.

Facial recognition confirmed for the individual identified as Reed and Pittman on level three scheduled to depart on the passenger ship Quick Silver. Destination: New Zheng.

“Anna, a call from a marine lieutenant at the space station,” Martha said and transferred the call to my tablet when I nodded.

“Director Paulus speaking,” I said.

“Ma’am, I’m Lieutenant Norris monitoring the facial recognition software. We have two matches. I was told to contact you in the event of a match.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Norris. Identify the names they are using and send me their passport information. Take no further action. I don’t want them to know we have identified them.” I cut the connection. “We have two of our killers heading for New Zheng.” I laughed. “That rules out the Liberals and the Independents, as New Zheng isn’t on their kill list.”

“It could still be the Conservatives,” Seth said, playing devil’s advocate.

“Then I’d have to resign since it contradicts all my assumptions.” I laughed at the look on Seth’s face. “Martha, get me a late afternoon appointment with General Guzman.” Just then my tablet chimed again and two messages appeared:

Facial recognition confirmed for the individual identified as Bryant and Henry on level three scheduled to depart on the passenger ship, Silver Bullet. Destination: Shadows Rest.

Facial recognition confirmed for the individual identified as Guerrero and Sanchez on level three scheduled to depart on the passenger ship, Silver Bullet. Destination: Shadows Rest.

Attached were the two men’s passports which I displayed on the room’s monitor.

“Interesting,” Seth said. “They are using the same names they used to return from Black Water.”

“That means they believe those passports are still good.”

“Aren’t you going to arrest them?” Maxine asked the question on everyone’s mind.

“Not on Eastar. If we arrest them here, the UnCab will know we have identified their kill teams and have time to send replacements and get another team new passports. But if we arrest them in New Zheng and Shadows Rest, the UnCab won’t have time to send replacements as the Committee meets in a week. And the teams to New Zheng and Shadows Rest validate the assumption that it’s the Expansionists…which keeps your boss from having to retire.”

“General Guzman asked if dinner at eighteen hundred hours would be all right,” Martha said several minutes later.

“Confirm that would be good,” I said. “And Martha, let my mother know I won’t be home for dinner. Tell her I’m eating with Guzman.”

After a minute she nodded. “The general said it will be at his house, and your mother said no wild parties,” Martha said, frowning.

“Private joke, Martha. She calls the shootouts I get involved with wild parties.”

I hated having nothing to do. No meetings scheduled and all I could do about the UnCab was wait to see what they would do next. “I’m going to do a walkaround and maybe go scare the new hires. Oh, Maxine, let my security know I plan to go home to freshen up before I go to dinner with Guzman.”

“Around fifteen hundred?” she asked and I nodded. I walked down the hallway to the lobby, which was only moderately busy with people wanting to meet someone or here for a meeting with one of the system delegates. I stood watching as they and the items they were carrying were scanned and their identities verified. With c-agents at each of the five security lanes into the lobby and an additional five c-agents standing well inside the lobby watching the five lanes, the building looked secure.

I continued across the lobby and into the hallway which led to the system delegations’ areas and watched as visitors were verified before being permitted into a specific system’s area. I continued to the end of the hallway and into the c-agents area.

“Morning, ma’am,” said the two guards at the entrance.

“Morning, Smithy,” I said and looked to the name tag of the man I didn’t recognize. “Garson. See any bad guys or gals today?”

“No ma’am. Very quiet,” Smithy said, smiling.

“Maybe I can rent some to keep you from getting as bored as I am.” I grinned.

“Good idea, ma’am. I’d prefer bad gals.” Smithy grinned as he opened the door for me. The area was quiet since shift change wasn’t due for another several hours. The area was divided into lavatories and showers, locker room, and cafeteria. It also had a back entrance where the c-agents could enter with their ID card but the door had two guards as a double check. I spent an hour talking with the small group eating or sipping a drink. Over half were new-hires waiting for their one-month basic c-agent class to begin.

“Ma’am,” a c-agent named Gregory said to get my attention. He was in his thirties and I knew he had been with the agency for several years.

“Yes, Gregory,” I said.

“I understand you have another course for us to take,” he said, barely able to keep the frustration out of his voice. I knew he wanted to say something to the effect of I know the job, I’ve been doing it for years.

“Do you know what the Coaca Virus is?” I asked.

“Sure, it’s a deadly virus. You have it but that krait of yours keeps it from killing you.”

“Could you recognize someone with the virus?”

“Maybe. He’d look sick,” he said, his voice sounding amused.

“What would you do if a sick-looking man approached someone you were guarding?’

“Shoot him,” he said and smiled.

“Then what?”

“Check to make sure he was dead, see if he has identification, call the police, and wait for them to arrive, et cetera.” He gave me a defiant look.

“Agent Gregory, who is your senior c-agent?”

“Justin Harris…ma’am,” he said cautiously.

“Tell him that Director Paulus said you are to be in the first c-agent update course.” I smiled and then turned to follow the new-hires to their class.

Downstairs, Craig Olson waited as the eight men and six women were assembling.

“Class, ten laps to warm up,” he said and then added when he heard the sighs and moans, “Cold or tight muscles are more likely to be injured, and that would cause you to miss all the fun we are going to have and an opportunity to become a c-agent.” With that they began to run the track that circled the area, estimated to be eight tenths of a kilometer—an eight-kilometer run. He smiled as saw me. “Come to participate?”

I laughed. “You would fail me the first week and how would that look?” I said, meaning every word.

“I understand you had a session with Gregory. How did that go?” He looked amused.

“Excellent,” I said, feeling as amused as Craig looked. His mouth dropped open.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m very serious. He’s going to be my shining example on why we need a c-agent update class on the Coaca Virus. Oh, that’s our secret, Craig.”

He nodded. “Good choice. Gregory thinks he’s the brightest bulb in the building, which is unfortunate. He’s locked himself in at his current level since he won’t learn.”

“No, Craig. He’s dangerous. If he can’t get over that attitude, I’ll recommend to the senior agents he be fired,” I said.

Craig studied me for a long time before speaking. “Admiral Lulltrel was right. You’re no pushover.”

I stayed for an hour watching the new-hires being subtly pushed toward their limits to eliminate those who were in love with the idea but not willing to do the hard physical and mental work to achieve that goal—to go on when your body is screaming to stop, to focus when you are tired and chaos surrounds you. I would have liked to stay longer but I needed to change for tonight’s dinner.

I boarded the Committee shuttle a half hour later with Maxine and my four security guards. Maxine was like a sponge, soaking up everything I said and did. Why not just call the general?” she asked. I assumed she already knew but wanted to confirm she had it right.

“Electronic messages can be intercepted, so I’m trying to minimize knowledge of my whereabouts and intentions, and to limit the amount of information the UnCab has about our activities by getting our information before they do and by delaying the information they have about what we are doing.”

The shuttle pilot set down on the landing pad on our property and the six of us left the shuttle. Halfway to the house, a speeding ground vehicle left the roadway fifty meters in front of our house and headed straight toward our group. I was in the lead with Maxine only a step behind and to the right of me. I stopped and drew my Sig Sauer as Maxine stepped up beside me with her weapon out and pointing toward the fast approaching sedan.

“Maxine, jump right when I shout Now. I’m going left,” I said as Maxine began firing at the windshield, which appeared bulletproof. I held my fire waiting for… I wasn’t sure, but five c-agents were firing at the car and it didn’t appear to be having any effect. I concentrated on the car as it closed the gap…10…8…6…4… “Now,” I shouted, knowing it would take her several seconds for my shout to be heard and register in her mind before she could move. I also waited those critical extra seconds so our jumps would be simultaneous. The timing was critical. It had to appear we were committed and couldn’t avoid being hit by the car, while ensuring the driver was unable to respond to our jumps before the car was well past. I also hoped us both jumping in a different direction would cause a second or two indecision.

I dove left, tucked my head, landed on my shoulders, and rolled to a kneeling position. The passenger window was rolled partly down and a man’s head and shoulders were visible, along with an assault rifle. His weapon began spewing bullets that gouged a meter-wide trench well to my left but began to track toward me as the driver spun the car right to make another pass. I waited, estimating the rate the car was moving and knowing I wasn’t going to have more than a few seconds before the shooter adjusted his aim and the car headed toward me. I fired five shots, hoping to hit the shooter and maybe the driver or someone in the rear while the window was down.

One of my security or I hit someone as the car didn’t straighten out but continued turning right in a circle before stopping. C-agents were running toward the car, although it was armored and there was no longer an open window to shoot into. The driver’s side door suddenly opened and a body was dumped out. The door slammed shut, and the car began to move again. I couldn’t make it to the shuttle or to my house before the car caught me so I headed toward the road. I ran, not looking for fear of tripping and knowing it would slow me down. Actually, I didn’t need to. I could hear the sound of the motor getting closer as the car closed the distance. The clearance between the car’s undercarriage and the ground was probably less than the height of my body or head but… I ran harder, gasping for breath and heart pounding against my rib cage. The road was now only several meters away as was the car. In desperation, I dove face down, arms stretched out in front of me, into a shallow depression made by road drainage from rains over the years. Seconds later the car scraped over me. But as the back wheels passed, something snagged my jacket, ripping it off me and spinning me around as the rear bumper passed. Tires screeched on the road as the vehicle skidded to a stop.

I rolled onto my stomach and tried to focus on the vehicle but my vision was blurred with mud and my mind whirled from pain, fatigue, and shock. Then I heard windows opening and tires screeching and knew the car was backing up for another pass.

“Sorry, Alexa,” I muttered and closed my eyes, just as the car exploded. Seconds later, Maxine slid next to me.

“She’s alive!” she shouted as her finger touched my neck for a pulse. “Call Mercy Hospital and tell Doctor Renata we’re bringing Anna Paulus, then let her mother, Judge Alexa Bellona, know, and then let General Guzman know what happened.”

* * *

I woke remembering the killer’s car racing toward me in reverse. My hands frantically swept around me looking for my weapon, and I screamed as pain shot through my arm. Thinking I had been shot, I attempted to roll over and found myself locked in someone’s arms.

“Relax, Anna, you’re safe. They took you to Mercy Hospital.” It was a woman’s voice, sounding familiar, but I couldn’t place who.

Looking around, I saw Maxine and two c-agents just outside the door. I must have passed out since I didn’t remember the trip to the hospital, or being redressed in a hospital gown, or being attached to an IV. “How bad?” I asked, thinking I had gotten off pretty easy and couldn’t imagine why I was in the hospital.

“Individually your wounds are minor, but collectively they are more serious. The armored car’s rear wheels drove over your legs, which would have broken them if you weren’t in a depression and it was muddy and the ground soft. But you have some muscle damage. The undercarriage of the car snagged on your jacket and twisted you over. Fortunately, whatever it was that snagged you was at the rear of the car so you only sustained some muscle strain in your back and a black and blue arm where it smacked into the bumper when you spun over. A concussion, and a flesh wound from a bullet.” Renata’s voice was cool and clinical. “Other than that, you’re in tip-top condition. Oh, Red is fine.”

“Thank you, Doctor Renata,” I said, not sure what I would have done without her. She had been treating me since I was four years old and was the only doctor who truly understood Red and me. Without her, I would be dead, or at the very least in a mental or government institution under observation. As a qualified psychologist she had been the one to treat me after many of my clashes with death. Too many doctors would have had the krait removed, with a high probability Red would have been lost in the system until too late to stop me from dying of the Coaca Virus. And she was probably the only doctor who would certify me sane at my mandatory psych evaluations. “I’m going to have to retire when you do.”

“True, Anna.” Renata smiled and turned to reveal Doctor Pierce standing just behind her. “Doctor Pierce has decided this was a good opportunity to learn about his new director.”

“Thank you, Doctor Pierce. Most doctors would prefer not to treat me and Red,” I said, impressed with Pierce’s willingness to make the effort. If nothing else, to learn what to do and not to do.

“In an emergency, I think I could treat your normal injuries now that I better understand Red’s contribution and his relationship to you,” he said. “I was amazed at how docile Red was when Renata removed him to examine your wounds and surprised to learn the Coaca Virus begins to grow as quickly as two days. Of course, I’d want Doctor Renata there as quickly as she could.”

“How’s my security team?” I asked, concerned for their well-being.

“They are all fine. Two were wounded, one seriously, but both are doing well and will make a full recovery,” Maxine said. “The ones in the car were focused exclusively on killing you. We were just in the way.”

I let out my breath in a sigh of relief. Enough good people had died protecting me over the years. Alexa entered just then, smiling.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Daughter,” Alexa said and proceeded to hug me to shocked gasps.

“That’s not recommended for anyone except Alexa and maybe Commander Sinclair, who is like a sister to Anna,” Renata said just as General Guzman walked in.

“Anna, I thought I’d come and see you since you didn’t come to see me,” he said, a concerned look on his square craggy face.

“Thank you, General Guzman. The people I’m chasing don’t appear to like me. I’ve identified several of their assassins and was wondering if you could have your people quietly detain them for me. Maybe a surprise passport check from which they disappear,” I said. “My intent at this point is to delay their handlers from knowing they failed to carry out their assigned kills. Of course, they will also stand trial for murder.”

“No wonder they don’t like you. You’re good and sneaky. Where and when?”

“Maxine will give you the individuals’ aliases and passenger ships names they are traveling on, and their destination,” I said as Maxine approached the general and gave him a flash drive. He sat near the bed while I gave him a blow-by-blow account of my recent encounter.

“When Susan gets a semester break, we would like you to have dinner with us. She wants to see you, and I’d like you to meet my wife. She has been wanting to thank you personally.” He laughed. “For settling me down while Susan was…missing. And I’ll personally guarantee your security. I’ll have the entire base on alert.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

UnCab: So Close Yet So Far

“Damn it, Maria, that bitch woman is not only still alive, but I just discovered she has arrested four of your kill-team members. Not to mention stopping them completing their kills,” Harold shouted, his face red with rage. If you can’t hire competent people, then you need to kill miss pain-in-our-ass yourself.”

Maria’s expression didn’t change. “You’re right, Harold. But not about the people I hired. They are some of the best in the business. She’s dangerous and needs killing and I may have to do it myself. I’ve avoided that option up to now because of my link with you and the others. I have one other option I’ll try first. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll get personally involved.” Maria gave a curt nod.

“How were the assassins discovered?” Ryan asked, his eyes darting from one person to another.

“My connections tell me the marines at Black Water and New Zheng conducted a surprise passport inspection ordered by General Guzman and removed the two passengers that turned out to be the assassins Maria sent to kill our selected delegate,” Steve said. “It’s obvious Paulus somehow deduced the names of Maria’s two kill-teams and the names they were using. When they went out this time, she was waiting for them.”

“It’s fucking worse than that. It’s obvious she knows what we are doing. She had to have suspected the four delegates’ accidents weren’t accidents, then somehow determined the identity or at a minimum the false identities of the assassins, and from that the systems we needed to target. Then the bitch waited until they arrived at Shadows Rest and New Zheng so it’s now too late to send someone else. The delegates are now on their way back to Eastar for the new session,” Harold said. His anger was gone, replaced by a look of concern.

“Can those four assassins be linked back to you, Maria?” Ryan asked. He looked on the verge of panic.

“If they talked, they could. But those aren’t the kind of people who talk. The UAS doesn’t authorize the use of torture on prisoners, and besides, they know the consequences of talking,” Maria said.

“We have to kill Paulus before the delegates take their next break. She knows too much,” Ryan said to unanimous nods of agreement. “With her P1A authority she could create havoc, and she’s demonstrated she’s capable of doing just that.”

“Maria, I think it’s time you got directly involved,” Harold said, giving Maria a glare colder than space. She gave him a barely noticeable nod in return.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Time to Plan

“Are you sure you are ready for work, Daughter?” Alexa asked as we sat relaxing in the living room. I had decided I was ready to leave the hospital and had returned home with extra security at Colonel Ballard’s insistence, which I didn’t argue with. Alexa had Carla, our personal cook, prepare a special dinner for me and afterward we retired to the living room.

“I’ll try to leave work early—”

Alexa laughed. “Translation. You haven’t recovered yet but you feel you can’t take the time off.”

“I’m sore and tired, to be truthful, but the UnCab and I are at a crucial point in our contest. One more kill and they will be in control if only a tenuous hold. Currently, I have a three-month reprieve,” I said.

“As an ex-captain of a cruiser in war time, I can understand that. But at least get to bed early and see if there is someplace at work you can rest for an hour or two,” Alexa said. “Everyone will understand. They know you were just released from the hospital.”

* * *

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Martha asked as she, Seth, and Maxine entered my office for our morning meeting.

“You must have been talking with my mother,” I said as I sat. Of course, she was right but I had little choice. A few days could mean the difference between them winning or losing. “Martha, ask Ballard to join us.” I gratefully accepted my coffee from Maxine and took a couple of sips as I waited. “Maxine, maybe you can find me a comfortable couch for my office. I may try to get an hour or two rest if time permits. Then I can keep Martha and my mother happy.”

* * *

“Good morning, c-agents,” Seth began as I entered the training area with Maxine and my security. “You all know by now, several weeks ago we had an incident where three men with the Coaca Virus entered the lobby. If it hadn’t been for Director Paulus, it could have been a disaster as none of us knew how to recognize the Coaca Virus or what to do if we encountered it. We decided every c-agent should know how to recognize an individual with the virus and what to do and not do.” Seth turned to me. “Director Paulus, they are all yours.”

“Good morning,” I said and received a chorus of similar greetings. “Eastar periodically gets an outbreak of the Coaca Virus, usually every several years. Sometimes it’s relatively small and easy to contain but once in a while it gets out of control and becomes fairly widespread. There are two problems with the virus. The primary problem is that less than two percent of those who contract the virus live. The second problem is that it’s very contagious.” I paused and took out Red from my jacket and he wrapped around my neck. “I have the virus but was very fortunate to have been adopted by a red-headed krait when I was four years old. It turns out that their poison can keep the virus under control. It’s not a cure. And although there are several institutions researching the poison from red-headed kraits, to date no one has been able to reproduce it. As the old saying goes, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, and the reason for this class.” I stopped and looked at the group until I identified Gregory.

“C-agent Gregory, good morning,” I said. “I asked Senior C-agent Harris to make sure he would be in this class because of the discussion we had last week. I thought it particularly interesting and insightful, so I hope he doesn’t mind repeating it?”

Gregory shook his head and after a moment a slight smile appeared for a brief second.

“C-agent Gregory, do you know what the Coaca Virus is?” I asked, having gone over our previous conversation in my mind several times.

“Sure, it’s a deadly virus. You have the disease but that krait of yours keeps the disease from killing you,” he said, changing the word it and substituting disease.

“Could you recognize someone with the virus?”

“Sure, he’d look sick,” he said, enjoying this reenactment. I couldn’t understand how trying to make the head of your organization look bad could possibly be a good thing.

“What would you do if a sick-looking man approached someone you were guarding?’

“Shoot him,” he said. “To incapacitate him.”

“Then what?”

“Check to make sure he was no longer a threat, see if he had identification, call the police, and wait for them to arrive and take him away.” He smiled. Again, he had changed his version. Originally, he had shot to kill, not wound, but ironically, wounding was worse than killing someone with the Coaca Virus.

“Thank you, C-agent Gregory. Unfortunately, I’m afraid too many individuals would think and therefore react in a similar manner if they encountered a person with the Coaca Virus, or worse, not recognize the individual had the virus and let him wander the building.” I took out my tablet. “First how do you recognize the virus, or more specifically, the virus when it’s contagious, because like the flu, the first few days there are no symptoms. And at that stage, the person isn’t contagious. The first symptom is blisters,” I said, and clicked on my tablet, which I had programmed to send my sample pictures to the conference room monitors. I then began clicking through the series. “This is phase one and you can see small blisters beginning to form on the face. In phase two the blisters are more pronounced and beginning to turn a light brown. In phase three, they are distinctly brown and large. Typically, in phase four they burst and many will be open and leaking puss and blood. Patients are seldom mobile in phase five and have open sores covering their entire body.”

I turned off the monitors. “My concern is that each of you should know what to do if you encounter someone with the virus. That will be a person showing blisters in any of the four phases of the virus. Agency Gregory would have shot such an individual if he had recognized him as having the virus, which I seriously doubt based on his description. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt that he wouldn’t kill all the sick people he encountered and would shoot only the ones with the virus. In those cases, the bullet will create an entry hole and in many cases an exit hole that will disperse infected material over a wide area—as far as the bullet travels. Anyone who comes in contact with that material for weeks will become infected. Agent Gregory will also have contracted the virus because he came in contact with the victim while restraining him. Then calling the police puts the police at risk of infection and any area the police takes the wounded man—police cars, hospital waiting room, examination room, et cetera, and the people who are in or later enter those rooms. That simple action could result in spreading the virus to hundreds of people.”

I paused to let everyone consider the potential problem. “And although I’m picking on C-agent Gregory, it’s not personal. Ninety percent of you are like C-agent Gregory in that you aren’t familiar with the Coaca Virus and wouldn’t know what to do. Your actions might not be the same but nevertheless potentially dangerous. So, what should you do? First, stay at least four meters away from the individual. Try not to shoot the individual but if you must, try to find a room or isolated area and be aware of where your bullets will travel. Maybe we should issue stun guns or at least have them in easy to access places. Next, do not touch the individual. Then call Mercy Hospital and tell them you have a Coaca Virus victim. And then keep everybody away from the individual and the area you believe infected by the individual or your bullet’s path. Finally, stay in the area to direct traffic and to be there when the medical decontamination team from the hospital arrives.”

For the rest of the day, I ran exercises to demonstrate what to do and not to do.

* * *

“That was great, Anna,” Seth said back in the office with Ramon and Justin, who were responsible for the c-agents. “I doubt any of us would have handled an incident with an infected individual without creating a major problem. Our basic c-agent training runs contrary to handling a person with the Coaca Virus.”

“I liked your idea of having stun guns available at convenient locations.” Justin laughed. “It would also be beneficial if we shot someone who we thought had the virus and they didn’t.”

“In the ideal, stun the individual, call Mercy Hospital, and keep people away from the body and the area he or she used to gain entry,” Seth said.

“Perfect.” I smiled. It had been a good day and I felt the training had gone well and may prevent a disaster if I wasn’t around when a person with the virus entered the building.

* * *

I should be doing something, but what? It was unlikely the four assassins would talk and even if they did, how much would they know? One thing was for certain, the UnCab would like me dead before the Committee ended this session. Actually, they could kill the right person on any of the two delegations I had identified, which would cause them to be returned home where I was sure the UnCab already knew who the replacement would be. Or they could kill any one of the three Liberal delegates from Oasis and obtain an immediate majority, except I had them and the other Liberals from New Zheng and Shadows Rest sequestered in their delegation’s area and extra c-agents guarding them since that would be easier than sending assassins to the systems. Thinking about my limited and their seemingly infinite options gave me a headache that felt like my head had an exploding volcano inside. I decided to call it a day when my earbud came to life.

“Director, this is C-agent Morgan. I’m in the Committee auditorium. I think I found an individual with the Coaca Virus hiding here. He has a gun.”

“Try not to shoot him. I’m on my way,” I said as I lunged to my feet and began running out the door and down the hallway with my two security guards following. When I reached the eight-foot door I placed my hand against the metal plate and the lock clicked open. As I opened the door, I vaguely wondered how the c-agent and the unauthorized individual had entered the secure area. The only other entrance was via the underground monorail tram accessible only through the delegations’ areas.

I entered and heard the door shut behind me as I scanned the area. The room had a three-story dome with a stained-glass replica of the UAS seal. Storm clouds were currently blocking the sun and only a dim gray light filtered through the stained-glass dome. As clouds drifted past, the stained-glass produced alternating colored shadows which gave the room a feeling of death creeping in and out of the booths. The top level, L0, had a walkway for access to the Committee cameras and communications booths, which were spaced equidistant around the room and were separated by small one-meter walls. The next lower level walkway, Level 1, gave access to the delegations’ booths, which were also separated by one-meter walls. The next lower level, Level 2, provided access to the delegates’ support staff and advisors, who were located to provide easy access to ground level, Level 3, containing a large fifteen-sided wooden conference table where the senior systems’ delegates sat. All around the room large monitors hung for easy viewing from any angle.

As my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, I saw someone standing in the center of the area where the conference table sat. He appeared to be holding a light directed at the floor where something was lying. If the something lying on the ground had the Coaca Virus, he was standing far too close, I thought. Red hissed as his head emerged from my blouse and the wrongness of the situation struck home: a c-agent inside a secure room, standing too close to a potential Coaca Virus victim, no lights on…

Just then I heard the crack of a Sig Sauer handgun behind me and a body slammed into me, sending me right into the first Committee’s support booth on Level 0. The push sent me sprawling to my knees as a second shot rang out. I didn’t bother looking but rather scrambled on my hands and knees under a table loaded with machines and computers. I crawled past equipment sitting on the floor and chairs, which combined with the lack of light to shield me from view. A third, four, and fifth shot shattered cloth and padding from two of the chairs positioned in front of the table I was under. A sixth shot hit the metal of the next chair and spun the chair crashing into the table and the adjacent chair, leaving me exposed for a brief second. I continued to scramble dog-like under an adjacent table. The seventh shot hit a metal cabinet containing communication equipment, causing a flash of light and debris to hit my side and legs.

Although I couldn’t help making noise, I dared not stop crawling. As I neared the end of the table, I had several bad choices: stop and draw my weapon, leaving me stationary and a fair target even though partially hidden by chairs and equipment, make a dash out of this booth into the empty space between booths, and then over the short wall into the next booth, making me totally exposed for several seconds, or over the wall onto the lower walkway, Level 1, and then into one of the delegations’ booths, leaving me exposed as I slid over the wall and maybe visible to the man on the main level, Level 3, some twenty meters below.

I decided my best bad choice was the wall behind the table to the lower walkway, Level 1, as it was partially shielded by the table, equipment, and chairs, and the lack of lights would make me a moving shadow. I kicked the last chair away from the table and heard three rapid shots, causing one chair to spin out of the booth. Simultaneously, I crawled out from under the back of the table, took two steps back the way I had come, and dove head first over the wall. A second later two shots hit the booth’s wall behind me. Eleven shots, which should mean the shooter’s Sig Sauer would be empty. I heard the clip being ejected and another slammed in but I didn’t have a chance to draw my weapon as the man on the lower level began firing and pieces of the wall only centimeters from me exploded.

Only being on my stomach saved me. I rolled over several times and into one of the delegations’ booths and the protection of the small wall enclosing the booth. There I managed to draw my weapon as I crawled behind the delegations’ five-centimeter-thick wooden table which was long enough to accommodate five padded leather chairs. I had just made it when a full magazine of 9 mm bullets ripped through the chair, shedding them, the table, and the wall facing the lower level which enclosed the booth. The only thing that saved me was luck and the fact he was shooting blind—the darkness, chairs, and equipment made it impossible to see me as I wasn’t moving.

It occurred to me that he might be shooting to freeze me in place while his partner advanced toward me. When I heard him eject his empty clip, I rose to my knees and looked over the wall, my Sig Sauer ready. As I had surmised, a shadow was running toward the booth. I fired three shots and was rewarded with a yelp of pain as I ducked back down and the man above me fired off three shots.

“Corey, you all right?” a gruff voice shouted.

“I’ll live,” came a voice filled with pain and anger. “Kill the bitch and let’s get out of here. I can keep her from leaving the booth.”

Silence followed as we each listened for some noise to betray the other’s position. Again, I debated my choices: my present position hid me from view but the chairs were no protection from bullets. The wall protected me from the man on the lower level but meant I couldn’t retreat over it without exposing myself, and attempting to crawl to the next delegation’s booth would expose me to the man on the higher level. I could release Red and I had no doubt he would find the man and strike him, but the man might kill Red before he died, which would be my death as well.

But I had to do something. Doing nothing was not an option. Waiting would not help as this room was soundproof and the electronics would make my smartphone and intercom useless. And eventually they would get close enough to get a better view. A partial shadow would be enough. They would have an unobstructed shooting view whereas I had chairs blocking my view. It was my move as they could afford to wait.

I slowly inched my jacket off one arm then the other, careful not to make any sound or quick movement that might betray my position—they knew my general location. Then I rotated enough to reach the first chair and tied my jacket’s arm around one leg. Then, moving like a wounded snail, I began working my way toward the other end of the table. While I moved I could hear the man on the level above me moving toward the booth. I slowly rose to my knees and then raised one leg so my foot was on the ground.

Now or never, I thought as I jerked the sleeve of my jacket I was holding, which caused the further chair to slide several centimeters. As it did, the man on the level above me rose up and began firing. The chair was shredded and chunks of cement flew from the wall not a meter from me. I rose in a crouch, located the flash of the man’s weapon and his shadow above the upper wall, and fired three shots. The shadow spun backward out of sight with a shriek of pain, and I jumped the wall into the next delegation’s booth and then into the next.

“Janis! Did you get her?” the voice called from the man on the lower level, Level 2.

“I don’t think so. But the bitch got me in the shoulder and arm,” came the voice of the man on level Level 0 above me.

I wondered whether that was good or bad. Wounded men could be more dangerous than unwounded men. Wounded men couldn’t return to work as they would be identified as the killers, so they had nothing to lose and therefore would be more reckless in their attack. In fact, they may be willing to die for the satisfaction of killing me. All it took was one lucky shot.

I slid to the corner, where I had a view both down to the lower levels and up to where I had shot the other man. Nothing moved.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

A Deal too Good to Be True

The deal had sounded too good to be true. He had met this middle-aged woman, Maria, in a bar and one thing had led to another and they had wound up in bed. Now that he looked back on the incident, she knew a lot about him, likes and dislikes, the places he frequented, and recent troubles. His wife of ten years had left him after his multiple affairs and took his two boys with her, vowing he would never get custody or even visiting rights. That was eight months ago. At first, he didn’t mind. He was free to enjoy himself without having to make up excuses. He had gone wild and it had been fun until he realized the debt he had accumulated. He had bought a new car, clothes, and partied with beautiful, talented, and expensive women. Maria had also been expensive; she liked fine dining and high-class clubs. He realized he was on the verge of bankruptcy and losing his job when Maria offered him a way out.

“How’s your new director working out, Janis?” she asked one night after a satisfying evening of rough sex.

“She’s not like the others. She’s sticking her nose into everything and has the senior agents following her like she was that Irish Saint Patrick and them snakes.” He spat at the thought. He didn’t care for Colonel Ballard or Harris. They were following that…girl like they had rings in their noses.

“I’ve a friend who would pay good money to know what she’s doing. She got his daughter killed and he’d like to see her fired,” Maria said, while stroking his chest.

“Just for information?” he asked, knowing he could use the money.

“Just for information. He’s hoping he will find something he can use against her.”

“What information and what would it be worth?” he asked, not sure if it would be worth the risk. The next night, Maria told him he could get a thousand credits a week if he could give her timely updates on when Paulus was leaving the building. He had agreed—big credits with little risk.

* * *

“Maria, they tried to kill her!” he shouted when he next saw her. “I’d be an accessory to murder!”

“True, Janis. But the money is very good and the risk is almost nonexistent,” she had replied.

“I want out,” he said, knowing subconsciously that he had swallowed the hook, line, and sinker, and he was as good as filleted and cooked.

“It a good deal, Janis, and better than the alternatives,” she whispered. Her tone was menacing, her face and demeanor suddenly deadly. “My friends don’t like people who renege on their deals. Relax, the rewards far outweigh the risks.”

That had been true at the time. But several weeks later after another failed attempt on Director Paulus’s life, Maria had appeared.

“Janis, I’m afraid you are going to have to kill the Director,” Maria said and she wasn’t smiling. “Get your friend Corey to help.”

“I can’t…I won’t,” Janis blurted, his stomach twisting in raw fear. What did they expect? He’d just walk up to her and shoot her? She was guarded day and night by c-agents…his friends and comrades. “That’s not what I signed up for.”

“That’s true,” she said, looking amused. “I do empathize with your situation and agree the risk is not proportional with the reward. Unfortunately, my friends insist.” She held a finger to her lips before Janis could speak. “And they are willing to make the reward worth the increased risk. They are willing to give you and a partner each one million credits to kill her.”

Janis’s jaw dropped open and then moved but no coherent sound emerged. One million credits would buy him a new life on some planet even if they discovered he killed her, and if he could convince Corey to help…

* * *

Corey didn’t need convincing. He had lived on the edge all his life, and as it turned out, he had been part of the marines-for-hire organization and had killed as part of the group. He hadn’t been caught because he had resigned prior to the organization being closed down. So Corey had arranged to be assigned to Paulus’s security and to get access to the Committee meeting room. It all seemed so easy—an emergency call to Paulus to go to the Committee meeting room, knock out the second security guard, kill Paulus, and leave a million credits richer. And Maria promised new identifications and a spacecraft to transport them to Oasis.

But the clever plan had shit raining all over it. He and Corey had been shot and needed medical attention, and the bitch Paulus was loose somewhere in the room with a gun she knew how to shoot as well as them. They had no choice. They had to kill Paulus or die trying.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Now or Never

“Corey!” the man on the lower level shouted. “It’s all or nothing.”

Couldn’t blame them, I mused. They were wounded, probably bleeding, so they couldn’t wait forever, while I could. I would be missed and a search would soon begin. The Committee meeting room would be the last place to be searched but it would be searched eventually. I slowly made my way to the other end of the booth, found a place where the shadows were the darkest, and slithered over the wall like a snake into the next booth. Ignoring the assassins, I worked my way halfway around the room and up to the top level. There I found a location behind a wall where the shadows were the darkest and where I could see anyone approaching and waited. I had just settled in when I heard multiple gunshots and saw the muzzle flashes. From the look of it, they had apparently crept up on the delegation booth I had been in, and on some signal simultaneously stood and began firing. A reasonably good tactic if I had been there.

“She’s not here!” Corey screamed. “The fucking bitch has disappeared!” They were both standing as if to tempt me to fire so they would know where I was or thinking I had somehow left the room.

I almost laughed, as I wondered what they would do next. They couldn’t leave, but time was certainly running out. I shouldn’t have been surprised by what they did next. Although suicidal, it was the most logical response—they began moving around the walkways toward the only direction I could have gone. The man who had been on the lower level limped along the walkway between the delegations’ booths and the Committee conference table while the other man walked crouched on the walkway between the delegations’ booths and the communications booths. The logic wasn’t bad considering they were running out of time—a search or bleeding to death. That way they hoped to get lucky and catch me hiding, surprise me, or one of them would be able to shoot me when I was shooting the other one. Or maybe they thought they were as good as dead and hoped to take me with them.

I was just lining up a chest shot to the man on the higher level, when the Committee door opened. I lowered my weapon and fired two shots at his lower legs. He screamed something and fell forward. The limping man kept coming, firing in my direction as he came. I ducked down behind the wall as multiple shots sounded. Then silence.

“Director Paulus, stay down while we clear the area.” The voice sounded like Seth.

“There are two of them,” I shouted but stayed down. The adrenaline had evaporated and I felt drained of all my energy.

“Someone get Doctor Pierce,” a voice shouted.

Sometime later, Seth stood looking down at me.

“Are you hurt?” he asked while stepping over the short wall.

“No, but if you will bring me a pillow, I think I’ll sleep here tonight,” I quipped but it was what I felt like at the moment. I doubted I could stand without help.

Doctor Pierce appeared before Seth could respond. “You hurt, Anna?” he asked as he nudged Seth aside and knelt next to me.

“How’s Howard?” I asked. Howard must have been the guard that got shot when we entered the room since his first name wasn’t Corey.

“He’s dead,” Seth said.

“Shit, shit, shit…” I cursed and banged the floor again and again. I was tired of the people protecting me dying. “What about Corey and Janis?”

“Janis is dead. We shot him as he was shooting at you. Corey might live. He looks to have several wounds but they don’t appear life threatening,” Seth said.

“Seth, he’s to remain in Committee custody until I can talk to him,” I said as two men lifted me onto a stretcher. I closed my eyes, wanting sleep to take me away. The last thing I heard was, “Doctor Renata has been notified.”

* * *

I opened my eyes to find I was in bed and Doctor Renata staring down at me.

“The good news is that you are in good condition except for some minor cuts and bruises. The bad news is you aren’t giving your body time to recover between encounters with the people who are trying to kill you. Not only the body needs rest but so does the brain. Just like the fact that you can drive a person crazy by depriving him or her of sleep, too much trauma can cause your brain to go into shock—to shut down. Oh, and before you ask, Red was uninjured.”

“I knew we had a mole but not two,” I said. “I’m lucky they weren’t both on duty at the same time.”

“Corey’s talking. Apparently, Janis was the mole. He was paid to spy on you,” Seth said from the corner of the room where he stood. “But his handler offered him a million credits to kill you and another million to anyone he could get to help. Corey volunteered when he learned he’d get a million credits for helping. They thought it a simple matter. Knock out the second guard, kill you, and then Janis would knock out Corey to make it look like it was some outside group who disabled the two guards and killed you.”

“Howard saved my life. When he was shot from behind, he pushed me into the closest booth and blocked Corey’s line of sight long enough for me to seek cover,” I said, still grieving for the young man.

“I’ve talked to the other senior c-agents and we are considering an investigation of all the—” Seth began but I interrupted.

“No. We had one bad apple who infected another. Let’s not seed the group with distrust of each other or demonstrate we don’t trust them. We knew we had a mole and we caught him. Leave it at that. If we don’t trust each other to watch our back we hired thugs not family. Howard protected my back, and I trust the others would do the same for me and each other as I would do for them.”

“Thank you, Director Paulus. I’ll make sure everyone gets the message,” he said, looking relieved.

* * *

“Well, Daughter, you’ve had an active couple of weeks,” Alexa said the next evening. I had decided to stay home for a couple of days to rest. Mostly I slept all that day and only got up to have dinner with Alexa.

“I get the feeling the UnCab is getting impatient for me to retire before the next Committee break in two months,” I said, thinking I should be feeling rested after sleeping all day but I didn’t. I couldn’t seem to focus, or maybe I didn’t want to focus.

“Would they leave you alone if you did retire?” Alexa asked, and for the millionth time I felt a pang of regret for all the pain and worry I’d caused her. She was a saint, and I loved her with all my heart.

“Probably. There would be no reason to kill me if I weren’t interfering with their great plans. I don’t get the idea that this is personal. I’m just an obstacle they want removed. I doubt they would mind me being the director if I cooperated.” The idea was actually amusing. “I could be useful if I was on their side.”

Alexa nodded. “Yes, that is what politics is all about—ideas. Each side believes their philosophy is best for the country. But democracy is all about compromise. An idea everyone supports publicly but really they want a dictatorship where they have the power to implement their philosophy without having to compromise. And you are the ideal troubleshooter in a democracy or a dictatorship.”

I sat silent for a long time, thinking about me as director in a dictatorship. Good and bad were rather subjective. The Committee defined all the things you could do and not do. Those you were not allowed to do were bad and could land you in jail. In fact, many bad things weren’t always bad. Murder was an excellent example. If I chose to kill someone I disliked or thought evil I would be a criminal. But if the government decided someone was dangerous they could have him killed without recourse. In fact, most criminal laws have an unless-condition attached either expressed or implied or only enforced so long as the unless-condition wasn’t triggered. It was against the law to kill, unless you are defending yourself or family, unless the government is defending itself, unless… I had a headache just thinking about it.

“That’s interesting. No matter who makes the laws, you’re a good citizen if you obey them and a criminal if you don’t. Whether the law is good or bad, fair or unfair doesn’t matter,” I said.

“It doesn’t take much imagination to realize that each of our major parties would implement different laws if they had total control,” Alexa said.

I laughed. “So, if the Expansionists gain power without having to kill me, they might keep me as director.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Eye of the Storm

I returned to work three days later, in time for my normal staff meeting and my weekly update to the Core group. I had barely sat, when Seth, Maxine, and Martha entered.

“You three look like I’m scheduled to have a bad day,” I said, looking at the unsmiling faces.

“We’re all concerned you are back to work too soon and your schedule is particularly busy on Mondays,” Seth said for the group as Maxine placed my coffee cup with the embossed Committee Security seal in front of me. I took a sip before speaking.

“I only took the time off to give the UnCab a rest. They must be exhausted and will need time to hire new help,” I quipped, which elicited smiles after the initial shock. “How’s Corey doing?

“He’s recovering. You shot him three times. Once in the shoulder, arm, and calf,” Seth said and then smiled. “Rather poor shooting.”

“True. I’m going to have Craig redesign the firing range. The targets need to move and the lights need to be off except for one ten-watt bulb,” I said, looking down with my lips pursed as if thinking. Seth laughed.

“And no one but you would qualify.” Maxine grinned.

“Let’s go talk to Corey,” I said as I rose. It turned out that the temporary holding cells were behind the shooting range barrier and access was through a door in the training area. We entered through a long corridor that paralleled the firing range. Since there was a prisoner, the door into the cell area had a guard and two c-agents were inside.

“How’s our prisoner?” I asked the two c-agents, who rose from the metal table where they had been sitting drinking coffee.

“Recovering and no complaints, ma’am,” the older agent said.

“Open the cell door and someone get me a chair, “ I said and waited as the younger guard opened the cell door and the older one fetched his chair and placed it inside the cell. I thought I was well rested but I seemed to get tired faster than I liked since the two incidents.

“Good morning, Corey,” I said as I sat.

“Good morning, Director Paulus. You sure are one hard bitch to kill.”

“What made you try it? I asked, wondering how much he was willing to tell me.

“Money. Truth be told, I’ve never been above doing illegal things if the price was right. And a million credits is like discovering you won the lottery. Sure, no one pays a million credits, actually two, without there being equal risks, but in this case it seems so easy. Lure you someplace quiet, shoot your security, then you, and leave. Janis said the woman who called herself Maria had promised new identities and a spaceship to transport us to Oasis.” Corey paused. “The least you could have done was kill me.”

“How did Janis meet this woman?” I asked, since he wasn’t being evasive.

“Janis ran up a lot of debt after his wife left him. First drinking, then new car and clothes, then women, and then gambling. He was on the verge of losing his job here, facing bankruptcy, and owed money to very bad people. And possibly criminal charges if you identified him as the mole. He had been on this woman’s payroll since you were appointed director. It was good pay and very little risk. Unlike me, he didn’t want any part of killing, but she had him by the balls. I don’t think he would have done it if she had just threatened to reveal his spying on you, but she offered him a million credits. But what really persuaded him was her offer of another million if he could find help. He and I have been good buddies for years and he knew I would do most anything for enough money. And the rest is history as they say.”

“Did he tell you anything about Maria?” I asked.

“Not much. Said she was good in bed, athletic and strong, and a good figure for a woman in her late thirties or early forties…she was pleasant, even sweet, but had dead eyes. He said she was one woman he would never want to have mad at him. She would slice him open with the same lack of emotion she would have opening a can of sardines.” Corey grinned. “I’ve answered your questions honestly. How about you answer one for me.”

“All right,” I said.

“I heard the marines-for-hire actually captured you and had collected one million credits. How did they do it?”

“They gassed my security and me while we were in an elevator, opened the door, and carried me away to a waiting car,” I said. “Excellent planning and carried out with perfection.”

“How did you escape?” he asked, leaning forward.

“The people he handed me over to were so confident I couldn’t escape they got careless and paid the price. They’re dead.” I rose and left the cell.

* * *

An hour later when I entered the conference room for my staff meeting, everyone stood and clapped, and I felt my face on fire. I waved them to sit.

“Thank you, but… Was C-agent Howard married?” I asked, feeling glad I survived but depressed someone had to die for me to live.

“Yes, with one child, a boy,” Ramon said.

“Is he insured?”

“Yes, we are all insured and there is a bonus if killed in the line of duty,” Becker said. “It’s a very good package, Anna.”

“Howard saved my life. As he fell from the shot to his back, he pushed me into the closest booth. Without that push, I would not have responded fast enough to avoid being shot,” I said. “He deserves a posthumous award and the bonus that goes with it. I’ll leave it to the promotion committee to decide, but I recommend the UAS Committee’s Medal of Valor. His son should be proud of his father.”

“Ma’am, can you tell us what happened? Unfortunately, there are no automatic video cameras in that room and it’s secure when the Committee's not in session. We found over sixty shell casings and you fired less than ten.”

“I received an urgent call from the Committee meeting room that…” I tried to give a brief synopsis of the encounter but they kept insisting on hearing the details. “I think we need to update our periodic exercises to include one where you are running for cover. I’m going to tell you it’s harder to hit the kill zone when you are being chased—too much adrenaline.”

* * *

I entered Bennett’s office and found the three already there with partially eaten plates of food and half empty glasses.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Bennett, Mrs. Scherer, Mr. Glaser,” I said, stopping just inside the door.

“Sit, Anna, and grab something to eat and drink if you like,” Bennett said, waving at the sideboard which had a variety of luncheon food and drinks. I mixed my coffee drink and sat. “Have you decided whether you are staying or not?”

“Was I supposed to?” I asked. I didn’t have a clue what Bennett was talking about.

We heard you weren’t injured but you were taking time off to decide if you wanted to continue working here,” Bennett said.

“No, sir. I think the incident the other day was so close to the previous incident at my home that I hadn’t had enough time to fully recover. Doctor Renata recommended I take a few days off, my mother insisted, and the UnCab and I are at a standstill until the next Committee break so I did. As I said before, I like the job and the people so I’m staying until you fire me.” I took a sip of my coffee. As I talked Red made an entrance and wrapped around my neck.

“Good, because we like you but are concerned if you can’t stop the Expansionists from achieving a hold on the Committee vote they will try and get you replaced, claiming it’s a political appointment for the president to make.” Bennett paused as if considering his next words but Scherer spoke first.

“We have all thought of the position as a reward to someone and Committee Security as applying to the building and the people on the Committee. You have shown us that Committee Security is protecting the UAS through its members. A much wider responsibility which justifies the power the position wields and means the person filling the position must transcend the Core group. Hoping you would stay or maybe as an inducement, we have drafted an unanimously approved resolution that makes the position of Director of Committee Security a ten-year tenure—you can’t be fired or replaced during that time. Given you accept, we will have it ratified by the full Committee and written into our constitutional articles.”

“I accept,” I said. The UnCab can’t fire me so they will be forced to have me killed, I mused.

“Congratulations, Anna,” Scherer said and I heard the others echo her reply. “What’s next?”

“I may have to go to one or more of the systems I believed were rigged to try and determine how…and use the power you’ve granted the director to fix it.” I grinned, which was followed by nods and smiles. I stopped by Martha’s desk when I left the meeting.

“Martha, I’m going to the training area to see how the new women c-agents are doing and to do a bit of shooting,” I said. Martha nodded approval and made a note on her tablet.

When I arrived, the women were practicing on the firing range. Craig met me at the door to the room.

“I used to think all that practice you did was unnecessary,” he said, followed by a snort. “I’m surprised you only wounded Janis and Corey. You weren’t shooting to wound, were you?”

“No, but all I could see was what looked like moving shadows. I had to guess where the shadow was going, to shoot at center mass, and hope to get lucky.”

“You may have failed to kill them, but you wounded each of them a couple of times. They had to be desperate, bleeding like they were. It wouldn’t have been long before the bleeding would have been a significant problem.” Craig laughed. “Talk about a plan going to shit. They were disabled and in pain, blood loss sapping their strength, and their prey an expert shot and loose in a dark room with a weapon.”

“You arrived just in time. I think at that point they knew they weren’t going to survive. They weren’t trying to hide, hoping to draw my fire and giving the survivor a chance to kill me,” I said, thinking back on the last few minutes of the encounter. “How are the women new-hires doing,” I asked, wanting to change the topic.

“Hearing you practice every day has been a good motivator. And after hearing about your latest attack, I’ll probably have to put bunks down here for them to sleep.” He laughed. “And I’ve noticed the c-agents have been practicing more than before. They know guarding you almost guarantees a firefight and missing the assassin isn’t a good option.”

“I think qualifying once a year requires you to go through the Ready, Aim, Fire routine you develop shooting at targets only yearly. Regular practice makes it more of a muscle-mind memory act that is more automatic and therefore faster.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Wedding Bells

“Ma’am, you have a message from your friend in Stone Ring,” Maxine said, looking at her tablet. Maxine had assumed responsibility for monitoring my incoming messages and responding to many after consulting with me. I thought it a good responsibility as she was my aide to learn, not just to fetch and carry. As she spoke the message appeared on my tablet.

To: Anna Paulus

Andrea and I have picked a date for our marriage, June first, but before I make definite plans I wanted to make sure you could make it. What’s a wedding without a maid of honor?

From: Kris Sinclair

“Has she finally set a date for her wedding?” Maxine asked, not having opened the message as it was personal.

“Yes, June first,” I said, having very conflicting emotions.

“Are we going, ma’am? I could be very helpful as your aide,” she said, obviously excited to be traveling and at the idea of a wedding. I didn’t answer, as I typed a response.

To: Kristin Sinclair

I’d love to be your maid of honor and to see my adopted sister happily married. I miss you every day. But I have people hunting me and they don’t care about collateral damage. I couldn’t live with ruining your special day. I love you, Kris.

From: Anna Paulus

“Maxine, send that with my director’s priority,” I said and sent it to her tablet. “I’m not the person anyone would want as a guest at a wedding—or even at a funeral unless you were in a hurry to join the deceased.”

Maxine looked disappointed but nodded understanding.

* * *

Ma’am you have a reply from Sinclair,” Maxine said. The reply had taken three days, which meant Kris had answered it the same day she had received it. “And there is an attachment.”

To: Anna Paulus

The wedding won’t be the same without you, but I understand. Love you.

From: Kristin Sinclair

When I opened the attachment, I smiled. It looked like the message had been scrambled in transit or it had been created by a one-year-old playing on the tablet’s keyboard. I waved Maxine over to my desk and showed Maxine.

“It looks scrambled,” she said, turning her head to look at it from different directions.

“No, it’s a coded message. You run a program called Crazy Numbers and it decodes it.” I activated Crazy Numbers and gave it the name of the file. The random letters, numbers, and special characters slowly dissolved, changed, and coalesced into a coherent message:

I’m sorry you don’t feel you should attend. But if you catch the bad guys before the date you are welcome to come. I want you here. Love, Kris.

“That’s clever. Is it something only you and Kris have?” Maxine asked.

“No. It’s a program I wrote for the NIA. All the senior people in the organization have it on their tablets and could translate a Crazy Numbers message,” I said, but did not mention that the program had the potential to carry two messages because so many people had access to the program, a secret password appended to Crazy Number displayed the second message if there was one. I typed the password as Maxine couldn’t see me typing and the message appeared.

I want my little sister here for my special day. I know you will be cautious making reservations, you have security, and we can both carry weapons if necessary. Love, Kris.

I blanked the screen and considered the issue. I decided I would wait and see as I had a month to decide. Then I had an idea that would solve both my problems: what to do next and how to minimize the risk of attending Kris’s wedding.

“Maxine, see what I would have to do to schedule the Committee’s spacecraft for two weeks,” I said, hating to keep her in the dark but wanting to ensure no one but me knew what I planned. A secret wasn’t a secret if more than one person knew it. I smiled.

“We’re going to the wedding?” she asked cautiously.

“No, we’re going to annoy evil people,” I said. “I’ll be in the training area when you find out.” I left with my two security men following. As I expected, Craig was conducting a regular weekly two-day special training for the women new-hires. When I arrived, they were working on hand-to-hand techniques. I’d had a few months of self-defense training at the academy but knew it would take years for me to be any good at the art. And I had no incentive since Red was all the protection I’d need if someone grabbed me or was beating on me.

“Madam Director, want to join?” He grinned.

“Only if I can keep Red,” I said, grinning back. “I know weight isn’t critical in a one-on-one encounter but it’s a factor if you aren’t willing to use disabling techniques. Fortunately, I have Red, and he only knows disabling techniques.” That elicited smiles and laughs from everyone. “How are you doing?” I asked, looking at the eight women who had qualified.

“It’s far tougher than I had imagined, but satisfying,” a tall thin blonde said. Her workout clothes were covered with sweat stains.

“You’re a good role model, ma’am,” a stocky brunette said. “We get at least one story about you each week, either from one of the instructors or Maxine.”

“Maxine, is a good role model,” I said. “But in the end, your greatest asset is your mind. Although the job most days will be routine and can appear boring, you need to be focused all the time. If you are focused when that five percent happens, you will respond quicker and your response will be better. And in class you always want to consider, what would I do if someone had me in this hold or was using this technique, because knowing these techniques you are being taught doesn’t guarantee your opponent doesn’t also know a few tricks of his own or isn’t faster or… The life you save may be your charge and your own.” I walked over to Craig, who was smiling.

“That will keep them working doubly hard. I like the fact you are involved. I think it’s good for morale and keeps us on our toes, knowing our boss is…interested and involved.”

* * *

“Ma’am, I’m told that none of the Core members plan to use it so it’s available if you,” Maxine grinned, “want to use it to annoy evil people.”

“Excellent. Reserve the Committee’s spaceship for me, and alert Martha, my security, and my aide we will be leaving in a week and likely to be gone for a couple of weeks.”

“Where to?” Maxine asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I’ll let you know when I decide. For now, it’s just advance notice so everyone can get prepared.”

* * *

“We understand you have booked the Committee’s spaceship for two weeks,” Bennett said at our weekly meeting. It was more a question—where and why—than a statement of fact.

“Since the UnCab has decided to annoy me while we wait for the next Committee break, I thought I’d annoy them,” I said.

“Doing what?” Scherer asked.

“The UnCab killed four delegates which resulted in a shift in the vote at those four systems: New Zheng, Sutan, Oasis, and Black Water. That not only shifted the balance of party power but set up a coup d’état at four systems. I’d like to know how they did that. I think that is the priority right now and Committee Security is functioning well and in good hands.”

“I agree that is the priority and Committee Security appears better than ever, thanks to your influence. There is not only increased training but also more women agents,” Bennett said to nodding hands.

“I think I’ll join our director if she doesn’t mind,” Scherer said, amusement dancing in her eyes as she looked to me. What could I say?

“That’s a good idea. This certainly affects the three of us.” Bennett’s look turned to concern. “Be careful, Katherine, our director attracts bullets like a target at a firing range.”

Scherer laughed. “But the target fires back.”

When I returned to my office, I stopped at Martha’s desk.

“Martha, notify Ballard and Maxine that I’d like to see them,” I said. “It’s not an emergency so as soon as it’s convenient.”

“When the Director want to see you, it’s always an emergency, but I’ll tell them.” She smiled.

True to her observation, the two were there less than five minutes later. I chuckled, remembering the times Lulltrel said she wanted to see me. I used the stairs so I didn’t have to wait for the elevator. I noticed Seth followed them in.

“Anna, you wanted to see us?” Ballard said as he entered.

Seth stopped at the door, then entered and closed it when I nodded.

“Get something to drink if you want and sit. This will take a few minutes,” I said and took a seat at my conference table. Maxine set down a cup of my coffee before retrieving one for herself.

“I’m planning on visiting New Zheng, Oasis, Black Water, and Sutan using the Committee spaceship and will need security. We will need additional security for Majority Leader Scherer, who is planning to accompany me,” I sat back, awaiting comments.

“Isn’t that dangerous? A trip like that will be hard to keep a secret and an excellent chance for the UnCab to target you,” Seth said, his voice full of concern.

“Yes, you can expect at least one attempt to assassinate me. But if I’m going to stop their coup from succeeding, I need to understand how they knew their person would replace the murdered delegate. To do that, I need to be able to talk to the people involved. I hadn’t anticipated the Majority leader would want to come along. She can be a help but she will be a greater security risk since she doesn’t carry a weapon and probably won’t be competent in a firefight,” I said.

“In that event, we will have to double the guards,” Ballard said, but I shook my head.

“No. One or two extra and everyone should know she’s the priority.” I held up my hand. “I can shoot and won’t be unsure what to do. Mrs. Scherer will be confused and unable to defend herself.”

“You’re one tough boss, ma’am,” Ballard said. “Maxine, you and someone you designate will have responsibility for the Director. Ma’am, I’d like to go along. Captain Williamson, my second in command, can handle my group for the two or three weeks we will be away.”

I looked to Seth, who nodded. “All right, but don’t steal all the senior people from the group. We don’t want Committee Security to be compromised,” I said, knowing he would do just that if I didn’t stop him. He nodded reluctantly.

“When do you want to leave?” Ballard asked and I could feel his panic.

“Is five days enough time to prepare?” I asked and detected a sigh of relief around the table.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Annoy the UnCab

“Another secret flight?” Admiral Webb asked as I sat with him in his office. “Anna, you know you could request me to come to see you at the Committee building,”

“That wouldn’t feel right. I’m sure you are a lot busier than me,” I said, still not comfortable with what everyone else appeared to take for granted—that my position had more authority than theirs. “My mind has problems catching up with my new position. I was just coming to terms with being in charge of the NIA stations.”

He nodded. “Your career has risen like a rocket. It’s consistent with your talent and accomplishments but faster than your experience. Even exceptional people usually get several years’ experience before they move to the next higher position.” He laughed. “Given that, you would be in your fifties.”

“That’s part of the problem. I look and feel like I’m in my twenties. I’m not only not married, I’m not even dating, and I still live home with my mother…and have no intentions of moving out.” I had to laugh along with Webb.

“Well, Director of Committee Security, what can I do for you?” Webb asked, leaning forward. “Another diversion?”

I nodded. “The group killing delegates have me on their active hit list. They have made two attempts in the last week. And my plans are to make them more nervous than they are already. I’ll be visiting the sites where they killed delegates but tried to make them look like accidents in an effort to understand their strategy and its potential impact on the upcoming Committee break. I’m not going to hide that agenda. In fact, it would be difficult since they could easily deduce which systems I’m going to visit. I’d like to appear to be returning to Eastar on the Committee’s spaceship afterward but would like to make a detour. The detour is personal but it would endanger innocent people I love and respect if they found out and chose to attack me there.”

“So, you would like a cruiser at your last stop available to take you to your…meeting. Why not make the transfer in space?”

“Good idea. How about noon several hours from the Wave exit in the Sutan system on the one hundred forty-seventh day? I’ll need the cruiser for about seven days,” I said, crossing my fingers.

“I’ll send you the coordinates as soon as I have a cruiser identified. He will have sealed orders to take you wherever you want to go and to stay as long as you need him,” Webb said.

“Thank you. I’m fortunate to be blessed with very special friends like you,” I said and gave him a kiss on the cheek as I rose.

“Call me Steven, Anna. I’d appreciate it.”

* * *

I left Webb’s office and went down two floors to see Commander Weaver. When I reached his secretary, she waved me in after checking her tablet.

“Good morning, Director Paulus, how can I help you?” he said, as he stood.

“Congratulations, Commander Weaver. I understand you are on the list for Rear Admiral,” I said as I shook his hand.

“Thanks to you,” he said, pointing to the coffee on the sideboard. I shook my head.

“I’d appreciate you sending a message to your NIA Station chiefs and letting them know I’ll be on station over the next few weeks and may require their help. It will be a P1A matter which I’d rather keep on a need to know basis. The systems will be New Zheng, Oasis, Black Water, and Sutan.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem as you have the authority and they know and respect you,” Weaver said with genuine feeling.

“I want them to know you’re aware of my visit and have your support,” I said, not wanting people to feel they had divided loyalties.

“I appreciate you keeping me in the loop,” Weaver said, understanding my reasons. Before leaving, I let him know he could keep Lulltrel informed. She already knew I was chasing the UnCab.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

UnCab: A Thorn in Their Running Shoes

Harold sat contemplating the group’s upcoming meeting. One more kill at any one of several sites would give them a weak majority, two a pretty safe majority, and three a strong voting position. He had thought any of those positions would allow them to appoint a new Director of Security, but that damn Bennett had made the position tenured. Paulus couldn’t be removed for ten years without getting twelve votes to remove her. He couldn’t imagine any resolution including pay raises for all the delegates that could garner twelve delegate votes. If he wanted her gone, the only alternative was her death or that red-headed krait.

Ironically, if they could get Paulus on their side, she would be a valuable asset. She was a good leader by all accounts and a superb troubleshooter. But that assumed she didn’t screw up their current plans and that she would support the new Core group. Like having a pet tiger—great protection but he might decide you were lunch if he didn’t like what he was served. No, the risk outweighed the reward, he decided, as his guests began to arrive.

“Good morning, Harold,” Ryan said. “Have you heard the latest news? Pain-in-the-ass Paulus is planning a trip to New Zheng, Oasis, Black Water, and Sutan. Want to guess why?”

“She’s trying to figure out if the accidents were really murders,” Steve said from the open door into the living room.

“She already knows that. She wants to understand how we got our people to replace the ones that we had murdered,” Maria said as she walked by Steve, poured herself a glass of wine from the sidebar, and sat. “She’s a prodigy. She knew long ago what we were doing. She’s just collecting proof and eliminating possible alternatives in an effort to identify us.”

“Maybe we should quit trying to kill her and give her what it’s costing us to kill her to turn a blind eye and let her keep the position of director,” Ryan said. He had learned a long time ago that everyone had a price. The only problem was finding it.

“I’d gladly do just that but it won’t work. I have it on good authority money and rank mean little to her. I wish it did. And that damn Bennett just passed an addendum to the Committee rules that gives Paulus tenure for ten years. We won’t be able to fire her even if we get control of the votes to pass our agenda.” Harold said, clearly frustrated. “It would be like building your house on a geological fault line. The only solution is to kill her.”

“Her current trip will be the opportunity I’ve been waiting for,” Maria said, looking into her glass of red wine as if she could see Paulus’s death in the liquid. “I know exactly which systems she will visit and she can’t very well conduct an investigation from the Committee’s spacecraft. She will have to be out talking with people.”

“And if you can’t?” Steve asked. “Your track record hasn’t been very good.”

“If all else fails, I’ll kill her myself,” she said simply but the temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop several degrees. “Paulus has been resourceful and lucky, but she’s not immortal.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Partial Answers

When I boarded the Committee’s cruiser, a tall lean man with short gray hair met me. His smooth clean-cut angular face looked calm and relaxed, but he felt nervous.

“Good morning, Director Paulus. I’m Captain Weller. Welcome aboard the Aeolus. I’m afraid Majority Leader Scherer won’t be here for a couple of hours,” he said, and gave me a smile which looked a bit forced.

“She felt arriving at the Aeolus at eight in the morning would require her to rise in the middle of the night. I thought I would arrive earlier so I could answer any questions you might have and to confirm our schedule,” I said. “And to give our rather large party time to get settled so that Mrs. Scherer won’t be inconvenienced when she arrives. For your information, Colonel Ballard heads our twenty-c-agent security team, and Staff Sergeant Landon is my aide-de-camp.”

“Yes, ma’am. Commander Babson will get your party settled, and I will show you to your quarters. We can speak there or in my office,” Weller said. His speech felt stiff and cautious. I followed him to the upper level where he led me down a corridor with blue painted walls and a padded floor—a stark difference from the normal steel gray walls and floors in the rest of the ship. Halfway there he opened a door to a large bedroom.

“I’m sorry, but Majority Leader Sherer is the ranking person on board and will be accorded the Presidential suite,” he said in a rush.

“Although the Aeolus is officially reserved for me, Mrs. Scherer is the ranking Committee member and should be treated accordingly.” I walked around my new sleeping quarters—spacious for a cruiser—and opened one door to find a full bathroom with a shower, and a second door which led to a small but very adequate office.

“These are luxury quarters for a war cruiser. Why don’t we sit here and talk,” I said after having considered the circumstances and seen the desk and two guest chairs. I walked in and sat in one of the guest chairs and motioned for him to take the other, thinking that way the conversation would be more like equals talking. He sat with his back stiff. “I’m investigating the suspicious deaths of several delegates. I’d like to go to Oasis first, then Black Water, New Zheng, and last to Sutan. I’ll probably be on each system several days but I’ll give you twenty-four hours’ notice before I’m ready to leave,” I said and paused, awaiting his comments. None came. “How is this ship configured?” I asked, curious as I had attended the Naval College and had a good knowledge of cruisers.

“The Aeolus is a modified heavy cruiser. Same armament but crewed like a light cruiser since it’s not intended for extended tours—four hundred crew and fifty marines.”

“Were you a naval captain before joining the Committee?” I asked, suspecting the reason behind the unusual behavior. He nodded. “I used to try to defend myself against the rumors people made up, embellished, and passed on as facts, but they seem to become historical facts after a while. So I gave up. I no longer care. If you have any questions about the schedule, contact either my aide or me.” I rose, ending the meeting. He rose, nodded, and left as Maxine entered.

“Nice quarters,” she said, looking around. “You don’t look pleased.”

“The quarters are excellent. I was a lieutenant on a cruiser and believe me, these are luxury quarters even without the office and full bath. No, I think half the naval officers believe I ruined several captains’ careers without knowing the facts, which are that those officers ruined their careers without any help from me. Captain Weller is another one of those officers who lets others think for him.”

“Wow. What happened if you don’t mind telling me?” Maxine said, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“When I was a lieutenant, I told a captain her proposed action was reckless and glory-seeking and unnecessarily endangered the lives of her crew—” I began but Maxine interrupted.

“You didn’t! Well, of course you did. What happened?” she asked.

“She charged me with conduct unbecoming an officer and demanded a court martial. The board of inquiry determined that although given the facts at the time the decision was reckless, it was her decision to make and gave me a letter of reprimand.”

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Maxine shouted in rage.

“It was, Maxine. They can’t allow crew to talk back to their superior without destroying discipline. And although they didn’t take any action against her directly, her career is now in the toilet. Since I made admiral that so-called reprimand, which read like a commendation, didn’t hurt me.”

“Why are you being blamed?”

“Because there was a board of inquiry into the events surrounding our argument. The rumors have it that I insisted on a board of inquiry and that ruined her career.”

“What was the event that caused a board of inquiry?”

“We were chasing pirates and my teammate and I knew it was a trap. The Captain agreed but thought she knew the enemies and would win the encounter. I claimed the enemy knew more about what she brought to the fight than she knew about the enemy. She had expected two enemy cruisers. They had three.”

“What happened?” Maxine’s voice rose two octaves.

“The enemy destroyed the cruiser and killed over half the crew.” I paused. “And before you ask, I had sent out an emergency request for help without the captain’s knowledge, and three cruisers showed up to save us before we were boarded, the women raped, and everyone killed—or worse.”
* * *

Ballard joined us an hour later. We were discussing where I intended to go and the security Scherer and I would need when there was a rap on the door and Corporal Young peeked in.

“Majority Leader Scherer would like you to join her,” he said, nodding back toward the hallway. I jumped up and rushed to the door which Young had opened. Scherer and Weller stood waiting.

“I appear to have a lot of security tailing me,” she said with a slight twitch of her lip in what I took was amusement.

“I’d be remiss in my responsibilities if you were harmed while on our trip,” I said. In fact, I was worried since this was an excellent opportunity for the cabal to attempt an assassination.

“They want you dead, not me. If they succeed I’ll be removed legally.” She smiled.

“That assumes the assassins are extremely organized, the strike is surgical, and no collateral damage,” I said, thinking it possible but unlikely.

“And you don’t think that’s possible?” she asked.

“I’m trying to make sure the attackers will consider anything but a surgical strike suicidal.”

“Wouldn’t you have a better chance of surviving if it wasn’t a well-planned surgical strike?” She stood at the door Weller was holding open for her.

“Yes, but I couldn’t live with the consequences,” I said. After a pause, she nodded and walked into the suite, waving for me to follow. She walked through the sleeping quarters, into her office, and through into her conference room without so much as a glance at each room. There she sat at the head of the table. I sat at her right hand and the captain on her left.

“Captain Weller, Director Paulus is in charge of this…odyssey. I’m just along to see our Director in action. Who is the marine commander?” she asked.

“Colonel Fitzgerald, ma’am.”

“Tell him to have his troops on alert while we are planet-side and to coordinate with Director Paulus,” Scherer said, looking to me. I didn’t think it would be necessary, but I thought it a good contingency. I nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”

When Weller rose and left the room, Scherer continued. “What are you planning, Anna?”

“Ma’am, I’m rather intuitive so I have no specific plans. I’m trying to understand how the cabal could know killing a specific individual would result in their person being selected. I suspect they rigged the system. The task will be to figure out how,” I said and Scherer nodded.

* * *

The trip to Oasis took a little over six days. Weller invited Scherer and me to dinner each night. Scherer accepted twice, I declined. Scherer invited me to eat with her three of the other nights, which I accepted.

“Why didn’t you accept any of Weller’s dinner invites?” Scherer asked the last night after a quiet dinner alone.

“Captain Weller believes I ruined several officers’ careers while I worked in the NIA. Consequently, he’s tense around me. That would seriously inhibit his few opportunities to impress you,” I said, leaving off he’s boring.

“Did you?” she asked, leaning forward.

“They made bad choices that I got blamed for,” I said but of course, Scherer wanted to hear each of the stories in detail.

“I’m glad I decided to come along. That was the most entertaining time I’ve had in years. Your age and size has always worked against you. It difficult for anyone to come to grips with the fact that you are exceptionally talented, and therefore it’s easier to accept alternative reasons. Take care, Anna. I for one don’t want a new director. I like the one I have.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Oasis: A Starting Point

“Where to, Director?” Ballard asked, as we entered the shuttle for the trip planet-side.

“Maxine called Commander Sauer from the Aeolus. He said he would meet us at the elections headquarters landing pad. She has the GPS coordinates.” At my request, she had asked him to arrange a meeting with the Director of Oasis Elections. I had her inform him it was a P1A request. I had the authority and intended to use it to expedite finding the answers I sought.

“What are you planning, Anna?” Scherer asked quietly on our way to the planet.

“Find out how the process works on Oasis, and then try and see how it could be manipulated.” In other words, I have no idea, I thought with a slight mental laugh.

“Interesting. I’m used to thinking out each step before I take one. You take one step then determine the next,” Scherer said, her eyes nearly shut in thought.

As the shuttle settled on the pad, I recognized Commander Sauer standing just outside the doors into the building. Before I could rise, half our security spilled out of the shuttle and took up positions. Then Ballard nodded for Scherer and me to proceed, followed by the other half, who took up positions around us as we walked toward the building entrance. When we were all inside I turned to Sauer.

“It’s good to see you, Commander Sauer. Let me introduce you to Majority Leader Scherer. Majority Leader Scherer, this is Commander Sauer, who is in charge of the NIA station on Oasis.”

“An honor, Majority Leader Scherer. Mr. Hubbard is waiting in his office on the tenth floor.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Commander. Let’s not mention my name. I’m only here to observe,” Scherer said and we proceeded through security after I identified myself and then to the elevators. On the tenth floor, Sauer directed us to Hubbard’s secretary, who told us to enter. I entered with Scherer, Sauer, Maxine, and my two security guards, noting one was Ballard. Seven remained outside the door.

“Good day, Mr. Hubbard. I’m Miss Paulus, Director of Committee Security. I apologize for disrupting your day but the matter is urgent,” I said, wanting the man’s willing cooperation.

“A pleasure to meet you, Director Paulus. How can I help you?” he asked, looking nervously around the room at the group with me.

“One of the Oasis delegation was killed a short time ago—”

“Yes, a Kevin Reynolds in a botched robbery attempt,” Hubbard interjected. “A real tragedy.”

“Can you explain the procedure to replace him?” I asked.

“Since Reynolds had less than a year left before reelection, the president of the Oasis’s senate picked a temporary replacement until the election next month. Actually, that was a bit of a surprise as Reynolds was an Independent and President Flowers selected Jana Clark, who is a Liberal. Well, not that much of a surprise as Flowers is a Liberal. The irony was Flowers was recently appointed president, otherwise Haynes, who was an Expansionist, would have make the selection.”

“What if Reynolds had more than a year left?” I asked.

“Then it would have required a special election.”

“How did Flowers become President?” I asked, since the delegates were either Independents or Liberals.

“Haynes was an Independent who just recently declared himself an Expansionist. Ironically, that cost him the support of several members of the Independent party and Flowers was able to gain control.”

“Commander Sauer, would you please make an appointment with Mr. Haynes, today? You can tell him it’s a P1A request from the Director of Committee Security.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Senator Haynes was at the Capitol building less than a kilometer away. When we arrived, he was in his office.

“Miss Paulus, I understand you want to talk with me about a P1A issue,” he said as he hoisted his rotund body out of his chair and walked around the desk to greet me. “What issue?”

“Let me preface my question with an observation. Since I’m asking under P1A authority, lying to me will constitute impeding a P1A investigation and result in you going directly to Stonewall. No trial, no appeal you could win. Cooperation may cause you some embarrassment, an ethics inquiry, or other minor penalties. It could also solicit my goodwill.” I paused to give him time to digest the alternatives. “Did you accept money or promises of later rewards if you switched from Independent to Expansionist and a promise to appoint a specific individual to the Oasis delegation? Think carefully before you answer, Senator Haynes. I will verify the accuracy of a No response with an extensive investigation by the NIA.”

Haynes stood, visibly sweating. Perspiration appeared on his forehead and stains began to show on his shirt under his arms.

“I was promised a million credits and paid half in advance, and told I’d have a senior-level position in the Expansionist organization.” He stuttered his response while using a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.

“Thank you, Senator Haynes for not wasting my time. Who was the individual you were supposed to appoint?”

“A Mrs. Jamie Bodin.”

“And who approached you with the offer?”

“A lawyer… Mr. Perez, who is well known by all the politicians. He also offered to help with my reelection…funding, endorsements, and fix any problems I had.”

“Thank you, Senator Haynes. Given what you’ve told me is accurate, I’ll let Oasis determine what laws you’ve broken and the appropriate punishment. Commander Sauer, get with Commissioner Gilchrist, if he’s still the Police Commissioner, and have Mr. Perez and Mrs. Jamie Bodin picked up and delivered to the Aeolus,” I said. He nodded, turned, and left without waiting.

* * *

Mr. Perez wasn’t impressive. He was average height, hair line receding, puggy face, and fifteen kilo overweight. But he dressed well and the suit looked expensive.

“Mr. Perez, this is a P1A investigation, hence if you fail to answer or you lie to me that will constitute impeding my inquiry and make you eligible for Stonewall, without the benefit of a trial. Do you understand?” I asked. Perez was in a chair in my office on the Aeolus. Scherer and two c-agents were also present.

“You are abusing your P1A authority. It was never intended to be used that way,” he said in a voice that implied he could ignore me.

“Delegate selection wasn’t intended to include murder and bribery. But you feel it should just as I feel my use of my P1A authority includes questioning. But of course, you will be free to appeal it from Stonewall. You should be popular with the inmates. Of course, your appeal will go to the Committee Core group for consideration.” I turned to look toward Scherer. “Majority Leader Scherer, what do you think are his chances of a successful appeal?” I asked. Perez’s eyes shot wide in shock, and he paled as she spoke.

“Not good,” she said while shaking her head slowly and looking sorry.

“So, to repeat the question for the last time, who on Eastar provides you with the money and makes the decisions?” I asked. “Answer me truthfully, and I leave it to Oasis to prosecute you, in which case you will have a chance to convince your peers you were coerced or some other clever defense. Otherwise, Stonewall.”

“I don’t know. Honest! I deal with another lawyer…a Mr. Sterling.”

After Perez had been taken away by marines to be held pending my decision, Scherer grinned. “He was right. I don’t think we, the Committee, ever intended P1A authority to be used that way.” She held up a hand. “But it’s effective.” She laughed. “Admiral Lulltrel described you perfectly—a bloodhound and pit bull mix.”

“I’ve found over the years that the really evil criminals manage to operate in a manner in which they effectively hide behind the laws we have to protect the innocent. Like using lawyers as intermediates and invoking the law against self-incrimination. Those laws are all right for an individual who has committed a crime no matter how heinous but not to protect individuals who kidnapped hundreds of young women for prostitution or are attempting to turn the UAS into a dictatorship through murder and other illegal means.” I spoke with all the passion I felt.

“We, the Committee, need someone like you, Anna, to do all the things we are afraid to do because of the repercussions to us or our careers,” Scherer said, then added, “This could result in a lifetime appointment as Director.”

“Good, I hate change.”

* * *

Jamie Bodin was ambitious and competitive but not part of the plot, just a convenient candidate who could be counted on to support the Expansionist party. Afterward, I notified Captain Weller we were ready to leave for Black Water. Since the UnCab had failed to appoint their candidate, there was nothing else to do. At my insistence, Hubbard and Perez would be held in isolation without formal charges for thirty days in order to keep the UnCab in the dark. We departed for Black Water the next day.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Black Water: Garbage In, Garbage Out

The trip to Black Water took four days. Again, Weller invited Scherer and me to join him for dinner. Scherer went twice, and at her request, I accompanied her once.

“Although I like attention by young men, being the only woman and being senior to them is boring. I could use you to spice up the dinner. I get the impression you don’t like the captain,” she said the third afternoon as we sat in her office discussing what we had discovered on Oasis.

“I just think he’s boring, which I believe you just confirmed,” I said and stifled a grin.

“Why?”

“People who accept rumors as fact lack a working brain and, therefore are dull and boring,” I said and this time I grinned.

“Sometimes rumors are true,” she countered.

“Rumors almost always contain an element of truth. They probably start off containing mostly true information by someone who was present or at least got the information from someone who was there. But even then, the information is seen through that person’s bias and prejudices. The second person tells someone else, again colored with his or her bias and prejudices. In the process, the rumor becomes less and less factual and more and more a distorted version of the truth. For example, my confrontation with Captain Sharat. I did question her judgment, there was an inquiry, and her career has suffered because of the incident—all true. The rumors blame me for her decision to engage the enemy alone and imply I was to blame. In fact, she forced the inquiry, I received a reprimand, and she did not.”

“And you think Weller blames you?” Scherer asked.

“I think he believes the version that blames me,” I said. A slight difference from her question since I didn’t know what he thought of me.

“Join me tonight and let me judge,” she said and I nodded to please her. Besides, I had nothing else to entertain me.

* * *

“I'm glad you could join us, Majority Leader Scherer and Miss Paulus,” Weller said as we entered, leaving off my title. Scherer noticed but said nothing—she was letting him have all rope he wanted. “You know my XO, Commander Elliott, and Colonel Sandoval, in charge of our marine detachment,” Weller said, nodding toward each man.

“Miss Paulus,” Elliot said.

“Director Paulus, General Guzman sends his regards and we’re available if you need additional help. The general is quite impressed with you. He said you’re tougher than a marine gunny.” Sandoval laughed. “Quite a compliment from the general.”

“Thank you, Colonel Sandoval. I like the general, he’s not afraid to admit when he’s wrong. In my opinion, that makes him a good man and a wise leader.”

“Are you willing to admit when you’re wrong?” Weller asked, trying to keep the anger I sensed out of his voice. Red took that opportunity to make a grand entrance, wrapping around my neck with his head facing Weller. To watch the fool, I mused with a silent laugh.

“I’ve always encouraged people to tell me when they disagree with me. But if someone disagrees with you does that make you wrong?”

“You admit you are never wrong!” Now the anger leaked out into his tone.

“You obviously have an example, so let’s hear it,” I said, somewhat amused.

“Captain Sharat!” he said.

“Great example, Captain Weller. I told Captain Sharat she was going into a trap. She agreed with me and told me she knew what the enemy brought to the trap from her previous engagement with them and the UAS crew weren’t cowards. I agreed the crew were not cowards, however, the enemy knew about the capabilities of the Tityus, but she didn’t know what the enemy was bringing to the trap. She had expected two enemy cruisers, they brought three, which completely destroyed the Tityus and were preparing to board when help arrived. I was wrong to tell the captain she was seeking glory at the expense of her crew and received a reprimand in my records, which I deserved. So, what is your point, Captain Weller?” I asked.

Weller was quiet for a long time while looking around the room. “I heard a different story—” he began.

“No, Captain Weller, you heard a rumor which you chose to believe, like Sharat who forgot she is responsible for her actions and the lives of those she commanded. She was judged reckless and held accountable by her and your superiors. Not by me!”

* * *

Scherer snickered all the way back to her cabin. “I have to admit you were right about Weller. He blames you for Captain Sharat’s problems.” She laughed. “Now he blames you because you embarrassed him. No, you stripped him of his superiority in front of his subordinates.”

“You’re right and I’m sorry about that. I’d apologize but I don’t think he would want me to. I’ll just have to claim Red made me do it,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed. I didn’t like to do that to people in public.

“It’s funny, but your…Red had his fangs exposed during your…explanation.”

“I think Red feels my adrenaline spike and reacts, or he doesn’t like his meal ticket upset.”

Scherer laughed and said good night.

* * *

Commander Cooper was waiting when I exited the shuttle and gave me a snappy salute.

“I know it’s not necessary but I’m happy to see you and wanted to.” She grinned. “Welcome to Black Water.”

“Commander Cooper, I’d like you to meet Majority Leader Scherer. Majority Leader Scherer, this eager lady is Commander Cooper, the Black Water NIA station chief.”

“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t know,” Cooper said quickly with a beginning blush. “An honor to meet you, Majority Leader Scherer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Commander Cooper. This is Director Paulus’s investigation. I’m just tagging along,” Scherer said.

“Director Paulus, I’ve set up a meeting with Mrs. Walker, who is the Black Water Director of Elections, and I have four cars waiting to take you there. It’s at the edge of the city but there is no convenient shuttle pad.”

“Ma’am, would you mind taking a separate car? The vehicles aren’t big enough for us and our security and they’re hunting me, therefore you’ll be safer in another car,” I said to Scherer.

“Come, Colonel Ballard, the Director is tired of my company,” Scherer said, walking to the third car in the line of four.

“Come, Commander Cooper, you’re probably dumb enough to ride with me,” I said, heading toward the second car.

“Do you think—” Cooper began but I interrupted her.

“Yes, they didn’t show on Oasis, which means they are waiting here or on New Zheng and have had time to plan. I suspect I’m number one on their to-do list.”

“Delegate McDonald’s vehicle accident was suspicious when we reviewed it but not conclusively murder. There was nothing wrong with the car. My computer person thinks there could have been something attached to the vehicle’s computer system to give someone control of the steering and brakes. It went off the road at the worse poss—”

We were thrown against our seatbelts as our driver hit the brakes, but not fast enough and we slammed into the side of the attack vehicle which had crashed into the side of our lead vehicle. I released my seatbelt as the c-agent driver pushed open the door and jumped out. I dove out after him. The c-agent on the passenger side followed the driver.

“Stay with Commander Cooper,” I said, pointing to the last man out, and began running in a crouch toward the lead car to help with the driver, suspecting the assassins would be expecting me to run toward the rear away from the attack vehicle. That caught my security by surprise as they too expected me to go in the opposite direction, and it took them several seconds to understand and follow. As I reached the hood of the vehicle I had been riding in, I saw a tall man in black raising his Mfw to shoot into the lead car. I shot him in the head as another man in black exited the back of the attack vehicle. He saw me and spun to shoot but my tailing security guard put two bullets in his chest and a final one in the head. Good thing. The two shots to the man’s chest threw him back against his vehicle but no blood appeared, indicating he was wearing protective gear.

Just then I heard weapons firing in the rear, confirming they had assassins down the street near the rear of the caravan expecting me to run in that direction. I just hoped the assassins were focused on killing me and would ignore Scherer’s vehicle as the driver of her vehicle made to leave. Ballard would have the sense to know his responsibility was to protect Scherer. Two more men in black jumped out of the attack vehicle and began firing. I crouched down and opened the front and rear doors of our lead vehicle as my security guard provided cover. The two men sitting on the passenger side were badly hurt from the crash but the other two appeared only dazed but otherwise functional. I fell face down on the ground and searched for feet, found one leg, and put a 9 mm bullet in it. The man fell onto one knee, and I put another bullet in his leg. Unfortunately, he fell backward out of my line of sight. I crawled to the front of the lead vehicle, caught sight of the man on the ground, and put a bullet in his head. By then my security had killed the other shooter. Two seconds later, two functional c-agents were beside me.

“Corporal Graves, bring Commander Cooper to the attack vehicle,” I said, thinking she would be safer in an armored vehicle than staying in vehicle two, and I may need a few c-agents for support. “Colonel Ballard you are in charge and have responsibility for Majority Leader Scherer. I recommend you do not proceed toward the rear. Unless I’m mistaken they are anticipating such a move and have it covered. You may want to call Colonel Sandoval and see if he can’t get us some marine support. I’m leaving one c-agent to treat the two wounded men from the lead vehicle and taking Commander Cooper and three with me in the armored attack vehicle to scout ahead,” I said and waved everyone toward the attack vehicle.

As I thought, the attack vehicle had very little damage. The car was built like a tank with reinforced metal and bulletproof glass. One c-agent, Peters, took the driver’s seat, the other c-agent, Moore, the passenger side seat in the back. Corporal Graves, Cooper, and I piled into the back seat with Cooper in the middle. The driver backed the vehicle clear of our lead vehicle and continued down the road. Less than a half kilometer later we saw two cars in a V formation blocking the road and six or more men with assault weapons crouched behind them.

“Ram it, Peters,” I shouted as the other agent and I rolled down the windows enough to shoot. Peters hit right at the point of the V, buckling the front of both vehicles, and causing one to spin away clockwise and the other counterclockwise, crushing the men who had been standing near or behind the cars. Moore and I shot at anyone moving.

“Ballard, the road is clear ahead if you have everyone ready to travel,” I said into my Comm device.

“Two cars with the attackers left us to chase after you. Colonel Sandoval has notified the Black Water garrison and they are sending marine attack shuttles and troops. ETA ten minutes,” Ballard said.

“In that case, stay put. I don’t want to endanger Scherer.” I cut the connection. “Peters, see if you can back this vehicle out of sight but pointing at the road. I’d like to see if you can disable one or both of the vehicles chasing us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peters shouted cheerfully and had an ear-to-ear grin as he moved ahead, found an alley, and backed partway into it. He had barely shifted from reverse to drive when two vehicles could be seen speeding toward the two wrecked vehicles. I was about to tell him to go, when the two cars slowed to inspect the damage. As they began to again pick up speed, Peters gunned the attack vehicle and managed to hit the front end of one and the rear of the other. This time the vehicles didn’t spin away put tipped and rolled over twice. One settled on its side, the other on its roof.

“Peters, let’s go back to our caravan. I don’t think this bunch will be any more trouble. We’ll let the marines clear up the mess and take any prisoners they find alive.”

When I arrived back, the marine detachment had arrived in two combat shuttles. Marines were everywhere, searching the area and guarding the cars. I saw Ballard talking with a marine major.

“Graves, escort Commander Cooper to the shuttle,” I said and headed toward Ballard and the major with my security following. Red wound around my neck as I walked. He had stayed inside my clothing during the action.

“The marines have the area secure, ma’am, and Majority Leader Scherer is unhurt and inside the combat shuttle over there.” Ballard pointed to one of the shuttles.

“What’s the status of our agents?” I asked and wanted to cross my fingers, toes, and eyes but resisted. The space gods would have to be content with a silent plea that no one died.

“Four wounded but Major Sutton brought a doctor, who informed me that the four are stable and on their way to the army hospital. “Director Paulus, this is Major Sutton. Major Sutton, this is Miss Paulus, Director of Committee Security.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. General Guzman had us on alert for your arrival. He said our criminals didn’t like you. He was right—as usual.” He snorted.

“Thank you, Major Sutton. Your help is greatly appreciated. The group I’m chasing are afraid I’m going to shut them down and deprive them of the power they believe is their right,” I said. “If you will excuse me, I had better check on my guests.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He nodded and I made my way to the shuttle. The two marines saluted and stepped aside as I approached. Inside, Scherer and Cooper sat talking, which I took as a good sign.

“Still think it was a good idea to come along?” I asked with a wry smile.

“Yes!” Scherer said, surprising me. I doubted she had ever seen a firefight, much less been part of one. “If I had stayed on Eastar, you would have returned and delivered a written report on what happened, but I doubt you could convey what I’m seeing. I’m seeing what is going on in the trenches, watching you…using the power of P1A authority, and learning a lot about our Director. And the threat is low as they want to kill you, nobody else. They were only shooting at the c-agents in self-defense.” She smiled at Cooper, then laughed. You seem to have the ability to morph from the mild-mannered Director of Committee Security, to professional troubleshooter, to c-agent.” She gave me a critical appraisal.

I looked to Cooper, who laughed. “Another fun story about the best boss and mentor I’ve ever had. The Majority Leader is right. The attackers weren’t interested in anyone but you.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m going to ask you to change vehicles since there is no shuttle access where we are going. The assassins have kindly donated their armored vehicle to get us to our meeting.”

Scherer laughed. “I was expecting the meeting to be canceled, a session or two with a shrink, a dinner at a five-star restaurant, and a suite where we could rest for a few days.”

“Sorry, ma’am, the Director’s budget won’t permit it,” I said, trying to look apologetic.

To my surprise, the major insisted on accompanying us to our meeting and waiting to escort us wherever else we were going.

“General Guzman would have my ears cut off and mounted on his wall if something happened to you. He obviously thinks very highly of you, ma’am.”

* * *

We entered the Elections Headquarters and were escorted to the director’s office, where a silver-haired woman with a condescending voice informed me the director was busy.

“I’m sorry, miss, you are two hours late so I’m afraid you will have to reschedule. The director’s schedule is very full. She’s a very busy woman.” She smiled sweetly.

“I’m sorry…Norma” I said after reading the name plate on her desk. “You’re going to interrupt whatever the director is doing and tell her the Director of Committee Security is here and because she is, the meeting is now.” I waved toward the director’s door. Gloria rose, knocked on the door, and entered. A minute later she came out followed by several men and women.

“Director Walker will see you now,” she said with a small smile which I assumed meant the director had made some snide remark.

“Thank you, Norma,” I said and proceeded into the office with Scherer, Cooper, Maxine, and two of our security following. Four others remained outside.

“I intend to complain to the Committee. You’re two hours late and expect me to rearrange my schedule to accommodate you.”

“Director Walker, you’re in luck. May I present Majority Leader Scherer,” I said and nodded to Scherer, who stood to my right. Walker shot to her feet.

“Your objection is noted,” Scherer said. She moved to the most comfortable of the three chairs in the room and sat, hiding her amusement with masterful control. “You’ll need more chairs.”

“How can I help you, Director Paulus?” Walker said after an additional chair had been delivered.

“I’d like to understand the procedure when something happens to an elected Committee delegate,” I said.

“I call for a special election in the district the delegate was elected,” she said and then added, “Black Water is divided into five districts.”

“And how does the voting procedure work?”

“I announce a special election, which defines how long the candidates have to campaign. The voters have one day to vote and the forms are forwarded to Election Headquarters, where they are counted, the results certified and published, and the individual sworn in.”

“How are the forms counted?” I asked.

“By certified Election Counting Machines,” Walkers said in a teacher to student tone.

“No humans review or sample the forms?”

“Machines don’t make mistakes.” She sneered. True, but garbage in, garbage out, I mused.

“How long do you maintain the forms?” I asked with the patience of a fisherman waiting all afternoon on a hot summer day for the fish to bite.

“Seven years,” she said with a sigh. Finally, I mused.

“Good, if you will show me the archived forms, my team and I can get started,” I said as I rose.

“You can’t!” Walker came out of her chair. “Those are official records and can’t be reviewed without a judge’s order. And, of course, I’ll appeal it on the grounds they were certified correct and you have no reason to question the certification.”

I smiled, pulled out my P1A placard, and held it at eye level facing Walker.

“You lost your appeal. Now if you will take me to the records and show me the Election Counting Machines, I’d appreciate it. Of course, you could refuse and earn a bed at Stonewall,” I said. “Your choice.”

Walker walked out of the office and to the elevators, which we took to the basement. She located a vault which was secured with verbal and retina scan security checks. The walls inside the room were steel and the door was the only means of access.

“There!” She pointed to an area defined by yellow tape and a sign reading: Special Election, District Four, and a date one month ago. She turned and walked out and entered another room across the hallway, this time using a key pad and thumb print. The room contained an assortment of machines. “You’re responsible for those records,” she shouted.

“No, Mrs. Walker, you’re responsible for those records and are welcome to stay while we review them or to appoint someone in your place,” I said. “First I’d like them moved into this room so we can perform some tests.”

“You have men that can carry them in here.” She gestured to several c-agents.

“They are my security. They shoot people I don’t like, but they are not servants and don’t fetch and carry.”

* * *

Walker found several men to carry the boxes into the room and decided to wait and watch. Scherer sat watching with an amused look.

“Maxine, you, Commander Cooper, and I will run these forms through the Election Counting Machines and verify the count. Then we will select one out of every ten forms and review the information manually—”

“Why would you do that!” Walker shouted, getting up from the chair she was sitting on. I held my finger to my lips.

“You are here to watch, not talk. You’re an observer.”

It took five hours, including a break to eat, to run all the forms. The results agreed with the certified results.

“Now the fun part. From each box select one form out of ten and examine it closely. If you find something that looks different or out of the ordinary tell me,” I said to Maxine and Cooper as I reached for a box, lifted out a stack, counted nine, and laid the next on one side and continued the process until I finished the box. Then I went to the pile of forms I had selected as a sample. It was a straightforward form. The names of the five candidates were listed with a box to the left of their name. A sixth box had Correction and after a box a line to write the name you wanted or to add a candidate who wasn’t on the ballot. I immediately noted an anomaly—over half were corrections and the corrections were all the same: A Conservative to an Expansionist.

“Cooper, Maxine, pull all the forms with a correction from Conservative to Expansionist,” I said as Walker came out of her seat.

“You can’t do that—”

“Sergeant George, take Director Walker in custody pending a formal review of misconduct in office,” I said, watching the woman try to pull out of George’s grip on her arm. “Sergeant, you are authorized to use whatever force necessary to restrain her.” I waited for Walker to stop struggling. “Yes, Director Walker, I can and I have. The only question in my mind is whether you were an accomplice in the plot to murder Delegate McDonald and fix the election in Holland’s favor or just a pawn in it for the money.”

“McDonald’s death was an accident!” she screamed. “I was…bribed to make sure Holland won.” She was sobbing now and all the fight had gone out of her body.

“Who approached you?” I asked. “The more cooperative you are the more lenient the court is likely to be. You don’t want to be mixed up with their crimes.”

“A lawyer, Mr. Bob Marsh,” she said while drying her eyes on her sleeve. “I was desperate…I had run up a great deal of debt…” She went on to explain how she had bought a new house, new furniture, new car, and new clothes when she was appointed director of elections two years ago and subsequently made some bad investments that had her on the verge of losing everything, including her job. I didn’t point out she had now lost everything, including her freedom.

It took an additional two days and nights to verify that Mr. Cortney, a Conservative, had won the election. I certified the result along with a man named Mr. Reeves, who had been designated the new Director of Elections.

* * *

The following day we made an unannounced visit to the law offices of Martinez, Saunders, and Vaughn. As we stepped out of the elevator on the tenth floor, a young man greeted us.

“Welcome to the offices of Martinez, Saunders, and Vaughn,” he said, trying to decide who he should be addressing and becoming increasingly nervous with the size of the group and the six dangerous-looking men who were surveying the area.

“Mr. Marsh,” I said and the young man’s eyes snapped back to me.

“Do you have an appointment?” he asked but the look in his eyes said he knew the answer was no, but we were going to see him anyway. “He’s the third office on the left. Who should I say is calling?”

“Don’t bother, he wouldn’t know me.” I held up my P1A badge until his head bobbed like it was on a spring. We proceeded down the carpeted hallway past a glassed-in conference room where ten heads turned in our direction as we passed. At the third door, I opened it and entered.

“Good morning, Mr. Marsh. I’m Miss Paulus, Director of UAS Committee Security,” I said, looking around the office, which was moderately large, with an expensive wooden desk, several light-blue padded armchairs, sidebar with drinks, and a built-in cabinet containing a variety of law books. “I’m afraid Mrs. Walker’s election fraud has been discovered.”

“I had nothing to do with any election fraud,” he said and smiled. “And I want an attorney present before I answer any questions.”

“Sorry, you don’t get an attorney unless you answer my questions.” I held up my P1A placard. “If you don’t answer my questions you will automatically be guilty of interfering with my investigation and go directly to Stonewall. You can appeal from inside Stonewall, but it will be your word against the Committee’s director of security. Guess how that will go.” I heard Scherer snort. “First question, who paid you to bribe Mrs. Walker?” I asked and walked over to one of the two chairs and sat. Scherer joined me a minute later. Marsh appeared to be having trouble synchronizing his vocal cords, lips, and mind as his eyes darted around the people in the room. Finally, he sat back down and looked toward me.

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

“That’s a shame. I’m told Stonewall isn’t a nice place.” I stood. “Sergeant George, take Mr. Marsh into custody and see him safely onto the Aeolus. We will be his transportation to his new home.”

“I don’t know,” Marsh repeated. “She insisted I meet her at a bar. Said she would give me a thousand credits for advice on a political matter. That was over two years ago. She agreed to pay me twenty-five thousand a year to monitor the political candidates here on Black Water. I was to have a background investigation on each major candidate and to keep her advised on who were the leading in the polls. Three months ago, she told me to approach Mrs. Walker and offer her five hundred thousand credits to fix the election. I would get two hundred and fifty thousand if she agreed, and she gave me information about Walker’s situation. But she didn’t give me her name. She said to call her Nyx.”

“What did she look like?”

“Cold, with vacant eyes. I would have done anything she told me, money or not. Except for the eyes, she looked different each time we met, and we met in places that weren’t well lit.”

“Give me the dates you met with her,” I said.

Marsh went back to his desk and pulled out a tablet. After a minute searching it, he handed me his tablet. On the screen was a calendar and each appointment with Nyx listed, date, time, and place.

“Thank you, Mr. Marsh. If this information leads to the people I’m after, you and Mrs. Walker may avoid Stonewall and have a chance at a trial.”

* * *

I thought we had accomplished all we could at Black Water and it had been worth the effort.

“Cooper, I like you to see if you and whoever you designate can identify the woman who Marsh has been meeting with. Use your best computer person to collect the arriving ships five days before his meeting date and five days after that date. If you capture any probable images show them to Marsh. I believe he will help as it’s in his best interest—Stonewall if he’s not helpful and local trial if he helps. You can and should keep your new boss in the loop. He knows I may ask the local NIA stations for help.”

“We’ll find her, Director. It’s fun to be doing something for you again,” she said and gave my hand a squeeze.

* * *

You’ve probably given the UnCab another reason to hate you and Bennett and me another reason to like you,” Scherer said, grinning. Ballard, Maxine, and I were sitting in her conference room back on the Aeolus “Do you think Marsh’s information will help?”

“There’s a good chance Commander Cooper will be able to identify Marsh’s woman handler. If so we can probably trace her back to Eastar and maybe identify her. From the sound of her dealings with Marsh, she may have direct ties to the UnCab or be one of the cabal.” I mentally crossed my fingers. I might be slowing the Expansionists’ efforts to win a majority but they would eventually kill me if I gave them enough tries.

“Do you think they will try again on this trip?” Scherer asked. She didn’t appear afraid; if she was, she could make the choice to stay on the ship and just return to Eastar.

“The Core group has given them little choice. If I remain after they gain power, I could continue to overturn their illegal wins. Better to do it before they get power and before I do too much damage, or worse, discover who they are.”

“Just interested in your logic. It has been interesting watching our director work and how you are using P1A authority. I think you’re abusing it, like you did with the kidnappers.” She raised a hand. “But no one will object—in a sense, it’s the lesser of two evils.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

New Zheng: It’s Personal

The trip to New Zheng took a little under four days. With no crew duties, I spent a lot of time with Scherer, Ballard, and Maxine. Scherer had studied political science in college and managed to secure aide positions with several politicians during her first eight working years.

“I learned more about what not to do during speeches, rallies, and debates with the first three candidates I worked for. None of them were ever real contenders. They spent most of their time apologizing for things they did or said or trying to dance around their foibles prior to running for office,” Scherer said during one of our lunch meetings. “Wannabes with no talent. Usually, their families had connections and money which allowed them to get into the race but they were bulldogs trying to run with greyhounds.” She smiled. “Those were…interesting years, a mixture of excitement, frustration, and amusement. The next eight were better. By that time, I had enough experience to qualify as a consultant, with the lesser-known candidates at first, but after a few successes I was working the top contenders. Then I decided to enter the race. I certainly knew all the dos and don’ts. I started with local positions to gain experience. Six years later I won a seat as an Oxax delegate and was elected as the Majority Leader six years after that.”

Ballard had spent his youth in the marines and then in the elite commando group. During that time, he participated in nine armed revolts. He retired early and joined the Committee as a senior c-agent in the personal protection unit and took the lead position when the head of that group retired four years ago.

“Being a commando was exciting for an idealistic, macho youth eager to prove himself the best of the best,” Ballard said, smiling at some long-ago scene. “At first I saw myself a part of a group saving democracy from armed thugs. Then I realized they were just men and women who thought the current government corrupt or cruel and they could do better. And although they were using violence to achieve their goal, many of our governments were created exactly that way. After a while, it was just a career and I concluded the current governments were generally better than the rebel groups. It was only by chance that I learned of the Committee’s security program. We were out celebrating a friend’s promotion when we bumped into several c-agents also out celebrating. I met a lieutenant with the group and we became friends. A year later he talked me into applying for a senior-level opening. I did and was accepted.” He laughed. “We thought we were doing a fantastic job until a wisp of a woman with no combat experience showed up.” Still grinning, he held up his hand to stop me from commenting. “Our trouble was our backgrounds—combat units. We think in those terms—armed assaults—and not in terms of planned assassinations. And in terms of strong men, when attacks require people who are thoughtful as well as having martial skills. Ma’am, I’m glad you don’t like promotions and new assignments.”

Maxine reminded me of Banner. They had a great deal in common. Not just that they knew where they wanted to go and had a plan on how to get there, but what they needed to do to be successful.

“I never went to college. Thought all that book learning a waste of time. So I joined the army looking for excitement and a chance to travel. I got little of either, although I qualified for a combat unit. A friend of mine told me about Committee Security. I applied and qualified but only because my friend told me what I had to do to pass their requirements. It took me two years of hard work before I felt ready. I haven’t gotten a lot of action with the Committee but I like the work and feel it’s important. And I like the idea of running my own department, so I’m in training trying to understand the issues, what will be expected, and how to be my best.”

I laughed. “You are studying under a woman who hates promotions and change and being in charge.”

“And who all of us ambitious people want to emulate,” Maxine said, smiling.

* * *

Commander Morrison met us planet-side and gave me a prize-winning smile when I exited the shuttle.

“Good day, Director Paulus. Congratulations on your appointment as Director of Committee Security…and thank you for recommending I continue as head of the NIA station.”

“Thank you, and you’re welcome. I thought the investigation of Commander Gardner’s activities was both fair and comprehensive,” I said, remembering back to my visit to New Zheng, Commander Gardner’s quick retirement, and the broken station he had left behind. “Commander Weaver told me you were doing a good job.”

Morrison smiled. “I alerted Mr. Jackson of your arrival, and he said he would be available. I wasn’t sure of your plans on arrival.”

“Very good, Commander. Now would be a good time,” I said.

This time Ballard had arranged for two shuttles since the capital’s administrative headquarters complex housed the election’s group and had a shuttle landing area. It was a thirty-minute trip to the other side of the city. Morrison and Jackson had prepared building security for our arrival and we had no delays—Director Jackson was immediately available when we reached his office on the twelfth floor.

“Good afternoon, Majority Leader Scherer, Director Paulus,” Jackson said as I entered his plush office with Scherer, Ballard, Maxine, and another c-agent. “To what do I owe this…honor?”

“I’m here as a guest of Director Paulus, acting strictly as an observer,” Scherer said and nodded to me.

“I’m here to look into the suspicious death of Mr. Chapman, a Conservative, and the election of Miss McBride,” I said and got the knee-jerk reaction I expected.

“That was ruled an accident,” Jackson said as if that settled the issue.

“Would you explain what procedure is followed when a delegate dies prematurely?” I asked, ignoring Jackson’s remark.

“We have a special election,” he said.

“Who’s eligible?”

“Only the people in the district involved.”

“And how are the ballots processed?”

“The person uses one of the election machines and a form is printed as a backup.”

“And how long are the printed backup forms maintained?” I asked.

“Eight years.”

“And what happens to the machine records?”

“It’s stored with the backup forms.”

“Excellent, I like to examine the forms from the election of Miss McBride,” I said.

“The results were certified by me after reviewing the backups and the machine records.” He rose, and his face rigid with anger.

“Good, then there shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, then added, “Mr. Jackson, this is a P1A request issued by the UAS Committee, so let’s forgo the rhetoric about needing a judge’s approval, lawyers, and New Zheng regulations.”

Jackson wasn’t happy, but he did lead us down to the basement where the records were stored and gave me access.

“Mr. Jackson, you or your representative is welcome to stay and observe.” I turned to look at Maxine. “Grab one of those boxes and let’s have a look at what the machine produces.”

Maxine opened one of the boxes, took out a stack, and laid it on the table. I picked up one form and scanned the sheet, then walked over to Jackson, who was still standing.

“Sir, can you tell me what these numbers represent?”

“The top number is the date the vote was cast, the next the machine number, then the party or person voted for, then the transaction number,” he said in a resigned tone.

“Let me see if I understand. This sheet says on the ninety-seventh day of this year, machine AR2354 recorded a vote for James Hamlin, a Conservative, and it was the machine’s five hundred and sixty-seventh transaction.”

“Correct,” Jackson confirmed.

“Thank you, Mr. Jackson,” I said as I walked over to a chair, sat, and closed my eyes. What would I do to beat the system? I mused. I could assume that the forms in the boxes would verify the vote just in case someone requested an audit. Consequently, the machine would have to be rigged. “Mr. Jackson, I assume there is no way to verify who produced this form,” I said.

“That’s correct. We verify the person using the machine is registered to vote, so the best you could do is verify the number of voters equals the number of forms.”

“Thank you. Commander Morrison, can you get a team of NIA personnel here to help? First, I want to separate the forms by machine number. Then, depending upon the results, we will record the party votes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and took out his Comm device.

* * *

It took three days working in three four-hour shifts to sort the forms. The result was interesting.

“Mr. Jackson, can you tell me where location D4A9 is located?” I asked after reviewing the results.

“Yes, Sandy Cove, which is located in district four,” he said.

“Well, Sandy Cove had thirty-two thousand people registered to vote and had sixty-three thousand recorded votes. Is there an explanation for the discrepancy?” I asked although I thought I knew the answer.

“Yes, Director Paulus, cheating. Thirty thousand votes sounds about right for Sandy Cove. Sixty thousand would be extremely unusual. And if sixty thousand did vote they should have been recorded.”

“I agree. How does Sandy Cove usually vote?”

“Predominately Conservative and Expansionist equally divided.”

“The vote was twelve thousand Conservative and forty-four thousand Expansionist. If we eliminate the extra thirty-three thousand Expansionist votes, Mr. Freeman, a Conservative, would be the winner.”

After verifying that all the other polling places were within three or four of the registered voters, I certified Mr. Freeman the winner.

“Commander Morrison, I want NIA to investigate the Sandy Cove voting officials and determine how the extra votes were produced. Send a confidential report to Commander Weaver and to the Director of Committee Security,” I said and Morrison nodded. “You did an excellent investigation on Gardner, and I expect the same this time.”

“Yes, ma’am. And if we identify the person or persons responsible?”

“Hold them until I say otherwise.” I looked at my Comm device and found it was several hours past dinner. “Commander, is there someplace we can get something to eat? Someplace nice where we can relax?”

“Yes.” He took out his Comm and spoke for several minutes. “I have reservations at the Yin Palace. It’s comfortable and has private seating.”

“Mrs. Scherer, is that all right?”

“Lead on, Anna, I’m not as young and driven as you. I was exhausted and starving hours ago.” She laughed.

“Mr. Jackson, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, I’d like that.” He led us up to the ground level and out the main entrance. Halfway down the stairs, an old crippled lady sat with a bowl on the ground and a sign reading: Homeless. Hungry. Please Help.

Her clothes were ragged and her skin looked old and patchy in the dim light from the buildings and street. I walked over and as I began to bend to talk, Red rose off my shoulder and hissed. At the same time, I saw a flash of metal and reflexively threw up my left arm. The knife struck, slicing through my jacket and into my forearm. Simultaneously, Red struck at the arm with the knife but missed as I stumbled backward. Ballard grabbed me. The old lady fired as she vaulted over the cement railing and was gone. Only the sign and the bowl remained where the crimpled old lady had sat. Several of my security raced to the rail and stood looking but didn’t fire.

“She’s gone,” Corporal Sims shouted.

“You’re bleeding,” Ballard said, ignoring Red as he stripped off my jacket. My blouse was soaked red. Someone handed him a belt and he tightened it around my upper arm until the bleeding slowed to a trickle.

The next thing I remembered was being in a shuttle accelerating toward the space station.

* * *

I woke in a white room smelling of antiseptic and a good-looking man in a white coat standing over me.

“Good morning, Director Paulus. I’m Doctor Jenkins. The cut to your arm was deep and required ten stitches. You’ve lost a great deal of blood but other than another scar you should be fine in a week or so.”

“How’s Red?” I asked, thinking that knife was intended for either Red or my throat.

“I didn’t examine the krait. Thankfully, it has been hiding in your hair but he looks fine from the brief glimpse I got.”

I reached up and pulled him down to eye level and scanned him.

“Colonel Ballard thinks she intended to shoot you after we passed where she sat,” Maxine said, standing on the other side of the bed. “You forced her to change her plans when you approached her. He said that knife looked to be aimed at Red and your throat. She got off two shots at you as she went over the rail. Fortunately, Sergeant George managed to move in front of you and took both in his vest. He’s sore but all right.”

“Maxine, call Commander Morrison and tell him to watch the passengers on departing flights today and tomorrow. I think that may have been our mystery woman on Black Water,” I said, thinking her a professional operative based on her disguise, athletic ability, and shooting accuracy while jumping the railing. The woman had everything planned, including an alternative assassination and her escape route. Maxine nodded and hurried off.

“Why do you think that’s the woman who bribed Marsh on Black Water?” Scherer asked from a chair in the corner.

“Who would you send to bribe a lawyer?” I asked.

“But she’s obviously an assassin,” Scherer said, ignoring the question.

“Yes, but more an undercover operative. Capable of assessing who would be vulnerable, cleaning things up if something goes wrong, and possibly in the UnCab’s inner circle.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Sutan: A Real Pain in the Ass

The trip to Sutan took less than two full days, and we arrived there mid-morning, where Commander Britany Howard, the newly appointed NIA station chief, met us. She had replaced Lieutenant Commander Alston, who was the acting station chief after I forced Commander Steward to retire. He had attempted to embarrass me in front of his staff and sabotage my mission on Sutan. He had also been doing a poor job at running the NIA station.

“Good morning, Director Paulus, I’m Commander Howard, the Sutan NIA station chief. I’ve set up a meeting with Sutan’s Director of Elections, Mr. Dooley.”

“It's nice to meet you, Commander Howard. I’d like you to come along as I may want you to do some additional investigating when we are through.”

“I be delighted to help if I can, ma’am. Commander Sinclair spoke very highly of you…and told me to carry a weapon if I accompanied you anywhere. She said she earned every one of her impressive array of Purple Heart medals with you.”

“That’s good advice, Commander, but don’t shoot at anything unless your life is in imminent danger. Everyone here is carrying a weapon and they can hit what they aim at so you are well protected.”

Howard laughed. “Commander Sinclair goes to the firing range every two weeks and most of the station personnel do the same. Once a month, we make it a station night out with dinner afterward. Therefore, I’m reasonably competent with a weapon.”

I made introductions before Howard led us to the three vehicles she had provided per Ballard’s request. It was a short drive to the government complex to the south of the city. We cleared security easily thanks to Howard’s earlier preparations. Mr. Dooley’s office was on the fifth floor and his young receptionist waved us in after buzzing him.

“Good morning, Director Paulus,” Dooley said, sticking out his hand toward Scherer. I guessed I looked too young or just not like director material.

Scherer shook his hand as she nodded in my direction. “That’s Director Paulus. You couldn’t pay me enough to take her job.”

Dooley blushed, then stepped toward me. “Sorry, Miss Paulus—” Dooley began but jumped back when Red decided to make an entrance. “My God, a snake! Somebody kill it!” he said, running toward his desk. Immediately two agents were beside him, stopping him from reaching into his desk drawer.

“Relax, Mr. Dooley. The krait is my medical dispenser. I have the Coaca Virus and Red’s poison keeps it dormant. He never leaves my person so he isn’t dangerous. I’m here to investigate the death of Mr. Butler,” I said, trying to change the subject and calm Dooley.

“His death was an accident…and why visit me? I had nothing to do with his drowning.” Dooley wasn’t calm, his voice half a shout.

“True, Mr. Dooley. I’m concerned that the drowning wasn’t an accident and the possibility that the subsequent election was rigged.”

“Impossible, our elections are closely monitored by my office.” His voice was loud and now indignant.

“Good, then we shouldn’t be long—”

“You aren’t authorized to audit Sutan’s government records. You’d need—”

“This?” I asked, holding up my P1A placard. “I’m not accusing anyone of misconduct, but Butler’s premature death requires me to verify the election results. So, I’d appreciate you showing me the files and explaining the procedure you follow when a delegate dies before his term is up.”

“I believe it’s consistent across the various systems. I announce a special election, develop an election form, announce a two-day window to vote, and afterward the votes are recorded by each machine and sent to me along with the audit sheets,” Dooley said as we took the elevators to the basement and down a low, damp hallway to a room secured with a key pad and hand print security. Inside were steel cages, each with an election date and the results. At my urging, Dooley unlocked the most recent special election and swung it wide open in an exaggerated gesture. “There! This is a waste of time and an insult to our system.”

“Maxine, Howard, grab some boxes and first let’s verify the election machine results match the number of audit sheets,” I said, and for the next two hours we verified the machine and audit sheets matched.

“I told you they would,” Dooley said when the results were confirmed.

“You were right, Mr. Dooley,” I said, thinking Dooley felt too happy about the count agreeing. “Commander Howard, can you get a team of NIA folks here? The next task will require more eyes and hands.”

“Yes, ma’am. I guess this is one of those I’d never wager against Anna moments Commander Sinclair always talked about.” She smiled and picked up her Comm device. An hour later, eight NIA agents arrived.

“Each person grab a box of audit pages, look at each one and mark down the result, and note any obvious changes. When you finish a box give your results to Majority Leader Scherer and grab another box,” I said. I picked up a box, opened it, and began. Twenty hours later, we finished, and I had Howard reserve a couple of tables at a good restaurant before walking over to Scherer.

“Well, Majority Leader, how did we do?” I asked as Howard, Ballard, and Maxine joined me. Scherer handed me a sheet of paper where she had consolidated the results.

“I think Commander Howard has another example of not wagering against Anna. The results for three of the machines were reversed. So according to the machine records Mr. Dick Barton, an Expansionist, has eight thousand votes but according to the audit sheets Mr. Joe Wagner, a Conservative, had eight thousand votes whereas Barton had only two thousand. That change gave Wagner the overall lead by over a thousand votes.” Scherer gave me a hard look. “Does Red do that often?”

“What?” I asked and she pointed to the top of my head. When I reached up Red was in my hair with his head on my forehead.

“It makes it easier for him to read,” I said almost absentmindedly, which produced laughs from everyone. I didn’t tell them I was serious.

* * *

The Islander was a large restaurant with a tropical ambience, from the sand on the floor to the nautical paraphernalia hanging on the walls, to the fish in three-meter-high glass tanks, and its toasty temperature. To complete the theme the tables had benches and were covered with beach towels, and the sound of waves were created by several wall fountains.

Since we had twenty people in our party they put us in a separate room which had no doors, but looked like a large cabana-like tent and gave us some privacy.

“Commander Howard, I’d like you to work with the police to determine if Dooley acted alone or had help. I imagine you will find a separate bank account somewhere where he stashed his bribe. If he cooperates, you can prosecute him locally, otherwise I will have him sent to Stonewall. I believe the Core Committee will authorize it,” I said and looked to Scherer, who nodded.

“Does he eat table food?” Howard asked, looking at Red, who was wrapped around my neck with his head on my shoulder.

“No, he doesn’t seem to be interested in our food.”

“What do you feed him?”

“I don’t. When he’s hungry, he dips into one of my arteries and takes what he wants.” I grinned.

“Ouch, that must hurt.” She shuddered. “But the krait is venomous!”

“Yes, that’s his payment for the food. He leaves poison that keeps the Coaca Virus dormant. And the bite isn’t any more painful than a normal injection.”

Just then several waiters delivered bowls of soup. It smelled delicious and I picked up a spoon, dipped it into the soup, and had it halfway to my mouth when Red struck my hand, knocking the spoon loose. Everyone stared at me in shock and a few leaned away from me. I sat paralyzed, not in shock but in thought. Why? One thing for sure, I trusted Red. He didn’t do anything without a reason. I activated my ear mic.

“Ballard, quietly have half our security cover the rear exit from the kitchen. No one leaves. When they are in place you, I, and the other half are going to rush the kitchen. Our assassin is in there,” I said, trying to act normal, then added, “I guess he’s taken a liking to soup.”

The comment had the desired effect, as everyone resume talking and eating. I leaned toward Scherer. “Stay here, there is an assassin in the kitchen.” When she nodded, I looked toward Ballard, who nodded. “Keep the weapons out of sight. We don’t want to panic the people in the restaurant. That would just help our lady escape. George, Sims, stay with Mrs. Scherer,” I said and waited for acknowledgments. “Ballard, now,” I said and rose.

With two c-agents leading and Ballard and Maxine close behind but in front of me, we moved across the dining area toward the hallway to the kitchen, walking normally like we were going to the restroom or leaving the restaurant. As we entered the short hallway, weapons were drawn and readied.

In the kitchen proper there were two waiters collecting their orders and three others standing around waiting. I could see at least eight cooks dressed in white with caps on their heads busily scurrying between preparation tables, stoves, and refrigerators, and one coming from another hallway where supplies or the freezer was located. We stood blocking the exit and surveying the area for our assassin. I looked toward the waiter who had served me, a young man in his late teens, clean shaven, and straight blond hair—unique enough to be recognizable. He was one of the waiters waiting to collect his order. As I suspected his, eyes couldn’t help going to our assassin, who was standing with an older man, probably the head chef, and another woman, who were no doubt hostages to keep the waiters cooperative. They were also the only people not busy, which was strange given the chaos in progress.

Our eyes locked. “You little witch,” she mouthed as her handgun appeared and fired a second after I had begun to seek the safety of the collection counter. Several customers’ orders exploded and shards of china, and green, yellow, and red food sprayed a waiter and the wall as multiple muffled shots from a suppressor rang out. My security held their fire as the woman was twenty meters away, standing behind two hostages, and people were running back and forth between her and us. She backed into the corridor which I thought probably led to the rear exit.

“The assassin is coming out with a hostage. She’s not to get away. If she fires, you are to return fire. Maybe the legs,” I said. I didn’t want to harm the hostages, but that woman could be critical to stopping the coup d’état. As we lost sight of her, I and the others moved into the kitchen, passing people rushing to get out. We had only stepped two meters into the room, when gunfire could be heard and a door slammed shut.

“She came back in,” Ballard said as we cautiously moved further into the room.

“Lady, you have a few options but none of them include escaping. As you have already discovered, your hostages are not a bargaining chip. So, option one, shoot yourself. Option two, surrender and hope your friends can rescue you eventually, or three, shoot it out with us.”

“Not very good options,” the woman said with no emotion I could detect.

“Some days are like that. You just have to work with the options provided… How about I give you a fourth option, a compromise.”

“What kind of a compromise? Prison is a death sentence.”

“A compromise as in, you tell me what I want to know and I pardon you,” I shouted. Heads with wide-eyed expressions snapped in my direction.

“You don’t have the authority!” she shouted.

“I’m the Director of Committee Security, have P1A authority, and you will be under my protection.”

“What about the UAS Committee? They could overturn it.”

“I can give you assurances the UAS Committee will not overturn it. Besides, the agreement will be between you and me.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You’re a long-term professional. I’ll bet you know my history as well as I do. I wouldn’t promise you something I didn’t believe I could deliver,” I said and waited. Her other three options made this one a simple decision.

“I need time to think,” she said. “You’re dangerous.”

“Send the old man and the woman out and I’ll give you an hour and anything you want to drink while you consider my proposal.”

She choked out a laugh. “Woman, my friends have been right to fear you. All right, a good red wine and an hour to think.” A minute later the old man and the woman limped out of the corridor.

“Ballard, see if you can get our guest a very good red wine,” I said. Ballard just shook his head. “And a bottle opener.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and exited the kitchen.

An hour later, the assassin exited the corridor with her hands in the air.

* * *

“Ma’am, I’m planning on leaving the Aeolus in a few hours. We’re rendezvousing with the cruiser Teutates and I’m taking a detour,” I said, not sure of the procedure on taking a vacation, and besides, I couldn’t leave without informing Scherer. I had found her in her office working.

“Where to?” she asked, looking up from her tablet.

“Stone Ring,” I said. I had made these arrangements with Admiral Webb before we left Eastar. “My unofficially adopted sister is getting married, and she wanted me for her maid of honor. I thought I could attend if I could manage to make everyone believe I was returning to Eastar. That would give me several days before they could organize another assassination attempt.”

“Do you mind if I come along, Anna?”

“No, ma’am. I’m positive Commander Sinclair would be honored to have the Majority Leader at her wedding.”

“Good, then I’m coming. You have managed to secure my position as Majority Leader so I’ll also take a vacation and maybe learn a little bit more about my Director of Committee Security.” She grinned. “I can just imagine the shock when the Aeolus returns empty.”

We boarded the shuttle for the transfer to the Teutates an hour later, including my prisoner, Maria. The trip to the cruiser took less than ten minutes, including the boarding of the shuttle, the flight to the cruiser, and parking the shuttle. When I exited, Captain Mendoza stood waiting.

“Good day, Director Paulus. I am again your chauffeur. Are we going anyplace exciting?” she asked, and I felt her curiosity.

“Yes. I’m going to a wedding, and I can probably get you an invite if you would like to join us. This diversion is so I can avoid the assassins who are trying to kill me, since they undoubtedly know the Aeolus’s schedule. I’ve already had two attempts on this trip. Oh, I have a prisoner I need locked up until we reach Eastar.”

“You do cause a lot of trouble, Director.” She smiled. “Where is the wedding?”

“Stone Ring. I plan to stay only a few days. I think this diversion will take them several days to figure out where I am and to set up another assassination,” I said, then turned to Scherer. “Captain Mendoza, I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Scherer, the UAS Committee’s Majority Leader. Ma’am, Captain Mendoza commands the UAS cruiser Teutates.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Mendoza said. “If you will follow me, I’ll take you to the Admiral’s suite.”

“Admiral’s suite?” Scherer asked, looking at me as Mendoza had already begun walking.

“Most heavy cruisers are designed to accommodate an admiral and his advisors to direct fleet operations during wartime.”

* * *

“I didn’t know I was picking up the Committee’s Majority Leader when I was directed to Sutan. My orders were rather vague,” Mendoza said at dinner that evening.

“This trip is our Director of Committee Security’s investigation. I’m just tagging along out of curiosity. But I have to admit it’s been a bit more exciting than I had anticipated.”

“I understand completely. Last time I was directed to support Director Paulus, she was rolling through the systems like a tsunami, freeing kidnapped women, and pissing off some very influential people.” She snorted a laugh. “I see it didn’t hurt her career.”

“No. But I’m afraid she is still pissing off some very influential people because they are spending a fortune trying to kill her.” Now Scherer laughed. “However, it appears bullets can’t stop a tsunami.”

* * *

“Maxine, when we arrive in Stone Ring space, send Commander Sinclair a message using Crazy Numbers. Ask her if she would mind four extra guests and give her our time of arrival.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Stone Ring: At Last

When I exited the shuttle planet-side, Kris was waiting dressed in a light-blue pants suit. Ignoring Red, she ran and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’ve missed you, Anna,” she said as she stepped back and held me at arm’s length. “My wedding wouldn’t have been as special if you hadn’t been here.”

“I was afraid of ruining it. I’m chasing some evil people who have money and power, and they would like me retired,” I said.

“I’m glad you decided to come. I think the diversion should give you a few days’ peace, and it looks like you brought enough security,” she said as Red’s head appeared of my jacket. “Hi, Red, I hope you recognize your nanna.” Kris stared over my shoulder. “That’s a bunch of good-looking men you’re traveling with.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed at forgetting who was tagging along. “Kris, this is Mrs. Scherer, the Majority Leader for the UAS Committee. Ma’am, this is Commander Kristian Sinclair, my very special friend and adopted sister who mentored a very young and naive lieutenant.”

“An honor to meet you, Mrs. Scherer, and I’d be honored if you’d have time to attend my wedding.”

“Thank you, I do. And I’d love to learn more about my Director of Committee Security. That must have been an exciting time, mentoring a young prodigy with a poisonous snake,” Scherer said. “I guess there is an interesting story that comes with hugging Anna knowing she has a krait lurking somewhere on her person.”

“More terrifying than interesting,” Kris said.

“Colonel Ballard is the senior Cerberus agent in charge of the Committee’s personal security, and Maxine is my aide-de-camp and a c-agent,” I said, nodding to each. Kris acknowledged each with a handshake.

“Anna, you are welcome to stay at my place,” Kris said hesitantly. I quickly solved her dilemma as I was with Scherer and a horde of security.

“I’d love to, but you couldn’t possibly accommodate me and my security. Colonel Ballard has arranged for suites for Mrs. Scherer and me with adjoining rooms for our security at the hotel where your wedding dinner will be catered,” I said, seeing her relief as well as her disappointment at not having me to herself.

In the end, Scherer, Kris, Maxine, and I had a small party in my suite, which didn’t break up until the early hours of the morning.

“When I first met Anna, she had just graduated the Oxax Naval Academy, was too young to be commissioned and looked like fourteen, had a venomous krait draped around her neck, and was assigned with me and two other lieutenants to a prestigious team to investigate smugglers. I couldn’t understand why anyone would select her and knew she would be dead weight for us to carry. But right from the beginning she was a contributing member. In fact, she found the clue that led to the smugglers’ demise.” Kris went on to tell some of our experiences. It was a fun night.

* * *

The next day, I went with Kris to try on my bridesmaid’s dress to see if it needed adjustments. There I met Angela Kersey, Kris’s second maid of honor, who to my relief had done all the maid of honor’s chores. Angela was a teacher at the local college where Kris had taken a class on finance. They had developed a close friendship over the years and Kris had been her maid of honor last year.

Angela, I like you to meet my adopted sister, Anna. She’s the reason I have more Purple Hearts than a marine gunny and the reason I’m still alive. Anna, this is Angela and a very dear friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Anna. Kris talks about you and your adventures all the time. I’m glad you could make it. I know Kris feels very close to you,” Angela said, looking at Red on my shoulder. “And Red.”

“I owe you, Angela, for doing all the maid of honor duties. I would have loved to help but my assignment is new and there are a few people that would like to retire me and don’t care about collateral damage,” I said, truly wishing I could have helped.

“Kris and I preferred you a secret maid of honor,” Angela said and Kris nodded.

In the end the dress fit perfectly and didn’t need any adjustments. Standard size six clothes usually fit me well. Angela and Kris had picked out halter-style, floor-length, sky-blue chiffon dresses for the bridesmaids. And Kris chose a white ball gown, V-neck with long sleeves, court train tulle lace wedding dress. It was simple and elegant like Kris.

I cried with happiness for Kris at the wedding ceremony. She was at a good place in her life—a career she loved and excellent rank for her age, a man she loved, and soon to be a mother. For me, it was unlikely I would ever be married or have children. Maybe that was just as well as I doubted I’d live long enough to see them grow up. We left the next day for Eastar.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The Agreement

The trip to Eastar would be a little over three days. The first day after leaving Stone Ring, I wandered down to the marines’ detention area where two c-agents stood guard in sight of the cell Maria was being held.

“Sergeant Austin, would you open the cell, please,” I said, watching as Maria studied me without emotion, although I felt a hint of curiosity.

“Maria, would you like to have lunch with me? I think it’s time we talk,” I said and stood waiting. She nodded and I felt a hint of amusement as she left the cell.

“You are very trusting, Director Paulus,” Maria said.

“Anna, please. Not really. Killing me would be suicidal and I don’t believe you are,” I said. “Consider us two individuals who each have something that could benefit the other.”

We walked in silence back to my dining room, where I had ordered a rather elaborate lunch.

“Sergeant Austin, you and the other c-agent are to remain out in the hallway,” I said, waving Maria inside.

“Is that wise, ma’am?” Austin asked. I had to agree it probably appeared insane inviting an assassin who wanted to kill me into a closed room alone with her. Even armed, I was no match for her.

“Keep your fingers crossed.” I smiled and closed the door.

“This is quite a spread,” Maria said, looking around the table.

“Hopefully, our agreement will be as good.” I waved for her to sit as I selected two slices of bread, a few slices of beef, potato chips, a salad, and milk.

“You don’t drink wine?” Maria asked, pouring herself a glass as she selected chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and a salad.

“No. Red doesn’t like wine,” I quipped.

We ate in a comfortable silence. I didn’t mind. There was no reason to rush, and having a meaningful discussion while eating would be difficult. I continued to wait as we both finished a slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie. Finally, Maria sat back and sipped at her second glass of wine.

“You know, by now they will know I failed to kill you, and that you have me in custody,” Maria finally said, studying me like a new species of arachnid.

“That’s true and they might even know I’m on the Teutates heading for Eastar,” I said. She nodded agreement. Looking at Maria, I knew I had been lucky. She displayed no emotion one could detect and even with my connection with Red I could detect little. She felt ice cold. She had obviously been in the business of spying and assassination for many years.

“It’s possible. They have an expensive information network because of their positions and the people who agree with their future for the UAS,” Maria said. I tilted my head in a tell me more gesture. “Aggressive expansion.”

“And a larger and better equipped military,” I added almost to myself. “Will they suspect you would give up their names?”

She was silent for a while before speaking. “No. They will assume you couldn’t offer me anything to negate the threat of them getting to me in prison. But we all underestimated you. You think outside the box the rest of us are trapped in. Who would let an assassin go free, especially one who had been trying to kill them? But that might not preclude them from trying to kill you and me to be on the safe side.”

“Will they be professionals?” I asked, trying to gauge the threat.

“Unlikely. I was their connection to professionals. They would have to rely on people they know who support them—dangerous like your c-agents but not professional assassins.”

“All right, Maria, here is the deal I’m willing to negotiate. You give me the names of the cabal and I let you go free. I’m not guaranteeing you immunity from prosecution for past actions, only that there will be no arrest warrants for you from my investigation of the cabal or for your actions against me. Of course, I will want to verify the information you give me before you are set free. Afterward, I assume you know how to disappear.”

Maria said nothing but gave a slight nod. “What guarantee do I have that you will keep your word?”

“Only my word. I assume you have a dossier on me going back to when I contacted the Coaca Virus at age four. That will have to be enough for you to decide. For me, this is a case of the lesser of two evils.”

“How do you know they are evil? The future they see may be better than the current one.”

“I don’t. And although the general voting population may not know the right future, according to our constitution, it’s their right to choose, not some self-appointed group of individuals.”

“I tried to kill you and would have if I could,” Maria said as a fact but it was really a question—don’t you want revenge?

“Revenge is a fool’s dream. It doesn’t correct the wrong and it’s more likely to destroy your life than bring you peace,” I said.

“What about justice?” Maria asked, still probing.

“Justice is elusive. More often than not it’s a merely an example for us to demonstrate what will happen to you if you do a similar thing. For example, if you kill someone how do you give that person justice? I favor the idea of stopping evil and preventing more.”

“I’ll be free to commit more…evil.” Maria showed no emotion but I detected a hint of amusement.

“A case of not being able to eat your dessert and have it to eat later,” I said. “As I said, I am not giving you immunity for crimes committed before the UnCab nor for crimes committed after you’re released. I’m ignoring your criminal actions while working for the UnCab,” I said and then added, “And I will not detain you while I try to determine any past crimes or post a wanted notice on you. Your past is not my concern. You will be free to go.”

“You might be the only person in the three empires that I would be willing to trust on her word. All right, we have a deal.” She poured herself another glass of wine before continuing. “The head of the group is Harold Nelson, Chief of Military Intelligence, reporting to President Bennett. Steve Nash, Lieutenant General, Chief of Marines, reporting to General Guzman. And Ryan Buchanan, Eastar Senator and Expansionist delegate,” she said, and then grinned at my expression.

“Guzman and Bennett are potentially in jeopardy,” I said.

“A triad—the UAS Committee, the navy, and the army and marines,” Maria said. “You understand, I have no proof.”

“Although I don’t need proof, I need something to confirm their involvement before I can release you.”

“They have a weekly meeting at Nelson’s country home. The meeting is set for ten hundred hours. My capture shouldn’t change that as they should be confident I wouldn’t give you any information. In fact, if they succeed, I would expect them to quietly pardon me.” A slight grin touched her lips.

“You weren’t willing to wager they would win?” I asked.

“One in the hand versus two in the bush,” she said. “And after your success on Black Water, New Zheng, and Sutan, I made a good decision.”

* * *

“Thank you for coming, Captain Mendoza, Colonel Caswell. Captain, when Mrs. Scherer and I depart, I’d like you to leave the station and orbit some place of your choice. I’m leaving a guest on board who is to remain in Colonel Caswell’s custody. Colonel, she is to be secured and guarded at all times but to be treated with respect and courtesy. “This is a UAS Security issue and a P1A order. I will advise Admiral Webb and General Guzman,” I said and waited for each to nod.

CHAPTER FORTY

UnCab: When at First You Don’t Succeed

“Maria is usually on time,” Ryan said as he entered the room and noticed she was missing.

“She not only failed to kill that damn Paulus, but she got captured alive,” Harold said and pounded the arm of the couch he was sitting on. He picked up his glass of twenty-one-year-old Scotch and finished it in one gulp.

“What if she talks?” Ryan said, turning pale as he headed for the counter where an assortment of brandy and whiskey liquors were displayed. He poured a glass half full and took a drink before going to the couch.

“She won’t talk. It’s not in her best interest. No one is going to reduce her sentence, especially Paulus, and we don’t have the death sentence to take off the table,” Harold said. “If she talks, she knows we can get to her in prison, even Stonewall. And she knows when we eventually win we will free her. She’s a professional and knew the risks going in and besides, she has no proof to give them. It would be the word of a known criminal against men of integrity and standing.”

“We could kill her,” Steve said. “To be on the safe side.”

“No, if our attempt fails, Maria would have a good reason to talk. And although she has no proof, it could get embarrassing…and if somehow the attempt fails and she gets free…” Harold shuddered. He stood and filled his glass before going to his desk and taking out a folder, handing it to Nash, who opened it and read.

“Wow. How did you get this?” Steve asked with an ear-to-ear smile. “This solves all our problems.” He passed the folder to Ryan.

“It’s not real,” Harold said, sounding pleased. “But you can use it to get Paulus separated from her security or to shoot her on sight and use it to justify killing her. I’m sure you have some marines you can use and a man you trust to lead them.”

“But if it isn’t real?” Ryan asked.

“Destroy it afterward. The document is only a distraction to get Paulus alone and to justify killing her,” Harold said. “From what I’ve been hearing that bitch has set us back a year.”

“Where is she now?” Steve asked. “The Aeolus returned two days ago without her.”

“From what I hear, she attended a wedding on Stone Ring and will be returning on the Teutates in a day or two,” Harold said.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Eastar: Home at Last

“Ma’am, there are twenty marines waiting in the boarding area commanded by a Major Papas,” Mendoza said as I entered the shuttle bay to depart. “He said they have orders to arrest Miss Paulus. They claim your P1A status has been revoked and you are no longer the Director of Committee Security. They are threatening to enter by force if necessary.”

“Captain, sound battle stations, inform Colonel Caswell we have a rogue force attempting to enter the Teutates,” I said, hoping Mendoza wasn’t buying the major’s claim. “Ballard, get Mrs. Scherer to safety,” I shouted then turned to Mendoza. “They couldn’t revoke my P1A status without the Majority Leader’s vote. Those troops were ordered here by Vice General Nash, who would like my guest and me murdered.”

“Doesn’t matter, ma’am. Admiral Webb would be pissing lava if I let a guest under his protection to be taken from a captain of the UAS fleet.” She smiled. “Commander, connect me to our external speakers.”

“Connected, Captain.”

“Major Papas, the Teutates is now at battle stations and you will be facing one hundred marines in battle gear if you attempt to force your way into this ship. But I will be willing to see your authorization and turn Miss Paulus over to you after I have verified with the Core Committee that her P1A authority has been revoked,” Mendoza said. As she finished, Colonel Caswell and marines in combat gear began entering the shuttle bay. When fifty marines were in the bay and in position, the colonel nodded.

“Commander, open the lock and allow Major Papas in. Let’s look at his warrant.”

As the lock opened, a tall, athletic man with a square rugged-looking face entered the bay, looked around, marched up to Colonel Caswell, and saluted.

“Sir, I’m Major Papas. I have orders here from Vice General Nash,” he said as he handed Caswell a folder. “It orders you to stand down and allow me to arrest Miss Paulus. Papas’s eyes scanned the bay and he smiled when they settled on me.

“Major, these orders are only valid if Miss Paulus’s P1A authority has been revoked by the Core Committee and she has been relieved of her responsibilities as Director of Committee Security, since Vice Admiral Nash has no authority over Miss Paulus,” Caswell said. “Not to mention I have orders from General Guzman to protect Miss Paulus.”

“Sir, I have a letter from the Core Committee.” He reached into the leather pouch he was carrying and retrieved another folder, which he handed to Caswell. “This states she has exceeded her authority and revokes her P1A authority and relieves her of her position as Director.”

“Colonel, let me see that,” Scherer said as she walked toward Caswell. She had entered the bay after the major had been permitted access. She scanned the document. “Director Paulus, come here.”

When I reached her, she handed me the folder. I took it and read. The document had the Committee seal and Bennett’s signature…along with Glaser’s and Scherer’s signatures. I scanned the major’s face and saw him scanning the bay then returning to watch me. Even without Red hissing, I knew he had orders to kill me right now while the marines were all facing the marines in the boarding area, and Mendoza, Scherer, and Caswell were looking at me, and my security was scanning the area. Give that, Papas could get off a shot or two before anyone could react. Then he could surrender, knowing his handlers would set him free eventually. I saw it in his eyes as a sneer appeared.

Scherer worried me. She was partially blocking the space between the major and me. I stepped forward with my left foot, placed my left hand on Scherer’s shoulder, and pushed her, turning me ninety degrees as my right hand went under my coat. The world appeared to go into slow motion as Scherer began to stumble away, the major gripped his Mfw, it began to rise out of the holster, and my hand found my Sig Sauer. I pushed down on the weapon as my hand closed around the handle and my finger slipped into the trigger guard. Papas’s weapon had now cleared his holster, and Scherer had crashed into Mendoza. I squeezed the trigger as Papas’s weapon began to rise upward. Several shots ripped into the deck only centimeters from my feet as two 9 mm bullets ripped into his neck and lower jaw, throwing him backward. An eerie silence followed as everyone tried to grasp what had happened.

“The major drew first,” Ballard said as he and two c-agents and Maxine moved to surround me.

“Gunny, bring those marines into the bay after you’ve collected their weapons,” Caswell barked and the gunny and a squad moved toward the lock. Scherer untangled herself from Mendoza and walked back to me, frowning.

“Why?” she asked.

“Sorry, ma’am. You were partially blocking the major’s line of sight to me, and I didn’t know how good a shot he was.”

“No. Why did the major try and shoot you?” Scherer asked.

“I think he had orders to kill me on sight and knew or suspected his documentation wasn’t going to get him custody of me. Given everyone was focused on me or the marines in the boarding area, he assumed he could shoot me before anyone could respond. Then claim he thought I was going for a weapon and if that failed, he could rely on his friends to get him free.”

“It should have worked. That document is a good forgery and even the signatures look authentic. But I guess they didn’t realize I would be with you when it was served. What now?” Scherer asked. Her face was pale and she appeared a bit jittery.

“Colonel Caswell, did you know Major Papas?” I asked.

“Not well. He is currently Vice General Nash’s aide-de-camp.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “Colonel, could you loan me a combat shuttle and a few marines? I think I’d like to hear General Nash’s story.”

“I’m coming along,” Scherer half shouted, sounding more like herself.

* * *

We landed at Fort Douglas without incident and Gunny Lawson, whom Colonel Caswell had sent with a squad of marines, arranged our transportation to the headquarters building. There we passed through security without incident using my P1A authority and were directed to Nash’s office on the tenth floor. I walked right past his lieutenant secretary.

“You can’t go in there without an appointment,” he shouted but remained seated as Gunny Lawson put his finger to his lips and his squad took up positions to secure the area. Scherer, Ballard, Maxine, and two c-agents followed me into Nash’s office. He jerked out of his chair as we marched in.

“Who the hell—” he began shouting in a commanding voice.

“I’m Director Paulus of Committee Security. I’m here to arrest you for sending your aide to arrest me—”

“You’re no longer the Director or have P1A authority—”

“That document is a forgery and you know it, which makes you eligible for Stonewall. And fortunately, I have a cruiser available to take you there today.”

“You can’t.” He shuddered but stopped when I held up my P1A placard.

“Oh, but I can and will,” I said as General Guzman walked in.

“Anna, what’s going on?”

“Nash forged a Committee document and sent his aide, Major Papas, with instructions to kill me.”

Scherer handed him the document, which he took and read.

“This looks real.” He frowned as he looked around the room.

“It is except for the signatures. I’m Majority Leader Scherer and although that signature is a good forgery, I didn’t sign it and I’d wager that neither Bennett nor Glaser did.”

Nash collapsed back into his chair. “I didn’t forge that document,” Nash mumbled.

“Who did?” Guzman roared like a wounded lion.

“Harold…Nelson,” he said as he drew his sidearm. Six c-agents drew their weapons simultaneously but he fired before they could react. The bullet tore through the right side of his jaw and exploded out the left side just above his ear, splattering the wall and window behind him with blood, bone, and brain.

* * *

“What now?” Scherer asked, sitting in my office after returning from Fort Douglas. “You don’t have any proof; well, except for the word of an assassin.”

I had invited Seth and Maxine to join us.

“If you have to wait for explicit proof against each individual, you can’t close down a crime organization. You remove one person and another takes his place. P1A authority is perfect for situations like the coup d’état cabal and the kidnapping ring last year, whether that was the original intent or not. And yes, it is easy to abuse P1A authority. The Core Committee group will need to decide whether I’m abusing the authority it gave me or not,” I said, knowing I’d resign if they decided to stop me. It wouldn’t be worth putting Alexa through that much strain, knowing that given enough time the UnCab would eventually kill me. And, in truth, I didn’t care who ran the government.

“I’m glad I decided to accompany you, Anna. You’re rather a force of nature using P1A authority but you are not reckless. I’ll support you. What’s next?”

“Seth, do we have people that can keep General Nelson’s country home under surveillance?”

“Yes, several,” he said after a short pause. “Do you think he will call another meeting? He only has Buchanan.”

“What would you do, if it were you?” I asked. “You’ve lost two of your key people.”

“Hide,” said Maxine.

“Try to kill you,” Ballard said.

“Reorganize,” Scherer said.

“I agree with you all. General Nelson knows I have no proof. I believe the group has been very careful to keep themselves isolated and work through intermediates. Therefore, I’d expect them to go quiet while they reorganize and look for an opportunity to get rid of the Director of Committee Security,” I said. “A party with potential allies and security in case I interfere. Ballard, I’ll need c-agents on a special detail, to watch Nelson’s country estate.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

A Going Away Party

“It sounds like your trip was very successful,” Alexa said as we sat in the living room relaxing after a dinner of small game birds with our cook’s special sausage, apple, and cranberry stuffing, mashed potatoes and peas, and topped off with raspberry-rhubarb pie. “You’ve identified the cabal, returned safely, and seen your adopted sister married.”

“Although I like my job, the best part is being home with you, Mother. It’s where I’m most at peace,” I said, feeling like a child, warm and safe wrapped in her mother’s arms. “Kris seemed happy now that she finally found the father of her future children. For a while, I thought she would never find him with the type of dangerous cases we were being assigned.”

“I think she was wise to stay on Stone Ring rather than take an assignment on Eastar. She will have far more stability there, which she will need to raise a family,” Alexa said. “What’s next, Anna?”

“I’m struggling with P1A authority. It allows me to trample on people’s basic rights since I don’t need proof and can arbitrarily sentence someone to prison without them having any recourse. Yet, without that power, criminals can use those same basic rights to avoid punishment.”

“They can appeal your sentence,” Alexa said.

“Not to the courts. They would have to appeal to the Committee who granted the authority. That would be like asking an embezzler to audit the records of the company from which he stole the money.”

“I doubt the Committee is going to rescind the authority, especially with the results you’ve achieved using it.” Alexa grinned.

“No, they aren’t. And between you, Red, and me, neither am I. The potential good one can achieve with it is addictive.”

* * *

“Our agents report that Nelson appears to be having a party. Several catering trucks were there in the afternoon and cars are beginning to arrive, most are couples,” Seth said, midafternoon two weeks after I had returned from Stone Ring. I had briefed the Core group and had their full support.

“What are they wearing?” I asked.

“Semiformal attire, like one would wear for a formal company party,” Seth said.

“Security?” I asked, trying to decide if this were the right occasion. Nelson would know it was possible I had Buchanan and his names from the incident with General Nash. So was this a test, a clever first step to recruitment, or a trap? Probably all three, I concluded.

“C-agent Sims reported two cars with mostly men arrived earlier this afternoon,” Seth said.

“How many guests?”

“Twenty-two cars, so probably forty-plus individuals.”

“Maxine, alert General Guzman, give him the address, and tell him I’d like to rendezvous with him in two hours. Seth, I want our team ready to move in an hour. We are going to crash the party,” I said, relieved it would be over tonight.

* * *

“Are you expecting trouble?” Guzman asked as his lieutenant and three sergeants stood awaiting orders.

“Always, General. I’d like you to ensure that no one leaves the party without my permission.”

“Rules of engagement?” the young lieutenant asked.

“You’re authorized to shoot to kill if the person refuses to obey your commands. They will have been warned this is a P1A investigation and they cannot leave until they have been questioned,” I said. The lieutenant looked to Guzman, who nodded.

“This should be interesting,” Guzman said, as the lieutenant began deploying his troops to surround Nelson’s country estate. “Judging by those ground vehicles, you have some influential people in there.”

“Let’s go find out,” I said as I began walking. Two c-agents were walking a couple of steps in front of me, Guzman and Maxine at my side, two c-agents behind me, and Ballard and twenty c-agents following. I hoped the numbers would preclude any aggressive reactions. The c-agents opened the door, where two armed men stood looking unsure what to do as we marched past. Two large adjoining rooms which connected to the kitchen had been cleared, making for a crowded but ample space for the assembled guests who were milling in groups or sitting in chairs along the wall. Slowly the rooms became deathly silent.

“I’m Miss Paulus, Director of Committee Security, here conducting a P1A investigation. There are three squads of marines surrounding this house who have orders to shoot to kill anyone attempting to leave without my permission. But before we begin, anyone with a weapon please raise your hand. My security will collect them so no one gets hurt. After they are collected, anyone found with a weapon will be shot and if he or she survives will be sentenced to Stonewall for life.” I waited as slowly the hands of eight men rose. Ballard’s team quickly collected their weapons.

“I am going to ask each one of you a few questions and then you may leave. Please refrain from telling me I can’t do this, or I’m not authorized, or how you will see me prosecuted, et cetera. I have P1A authority and the full backing of the UAS Committee, so I can and you can’t.” I paused to give them time to come to terms with the situation as I scanned the room. “I’m going to start with couples. Sir, what about you and your companion?” I said to a man in a brigadier general’s uniform and a blonde at least ten years younger. He had a flushed face, obviously unused to being ordered around, but one look at Guzman standing next to me stifled any comments. The woman’s eyes darted between him and me.

Just then Maxine appeared at my side. “Ma’am, I found an office you can use,” she said, and I waved the couple to follow her. She led us down a short hallway to an open door.

“Maxine, get the lady a chair. General, you first.” I nodded into the room and followed him in. Two c-agents were already present. Maxine closed the door behind me. I went to the desk and sat. He sat in a chair someone had placed in front of the desk. “General Albertin, I don’t care which party you support or who you would like to see in power. You have a right to support whomever you want. So please don’t lie to me. Your likes and dislikes aren’t crimes but lying during a P1A investigation is and could result in you going straight to Stonewall on a navy cruiser currently under my orders.” I paused, awaiting a reaction, or rather to wait while his emotions cycled from anger, hostility, and resistance, before settling on resignation. “Why did you attend this meeting?”

“I was told it was a strategy meeting to discuss…bringing the Expansionist party to power,” he said, then quickly added, “Not a military coup. Just identifying the right people and moving them into positions of authority for when the Expansionists do achieve majority status in the Committee.”

After a few more questions, I sent him out of the room while I interviewed his wife. “Mrs. Albertin, why do you think your husband came to this meeting?”

She smiled. “He’s very ambitious. He thinks getting in bed with this group will help his career.” She blushed. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“It’s our secret. Besides, there is no crime against being ambitious,” I said.

After interviewing the couples, I got the eight security men.

“What was your arrangement?” I asked the first guard.

He smiled. “One million credits to anyone who killed you,” he said. “Tempting, but it didn’t look like such a good deal when we found out you had three squads of marines and more than twenty c-agents milling around. Credits aren’t much good if you’re dead.”

The other guards had pretty much the same story. Finally, only Buchanan and Nelson were left.

“Mr. Buchanan, please have a seat. I’m afraid you aren’t going to get the Majority Leader position you risked your life for.”

“I supported Nelson, but I didn’t harm anyone and you can’t prove I did,” he said. His face was calm but I could feel the anger in him.

“I don’t need to, Mr. Buchanan. I don’t even need to prove you were part of Nelson’s cabal. And Stonewall won’t care why you are being sent there,” I said.

He sat staring open-eyed at me, his political mind clearly hard at work. “Can’t we make a deal?”

“What kind of deal?” I asked, interested in what he thought he had to negotiate with.

“I’ll testify against the others,” he said, hope in his eyes and voice. “It was all Nelson’s doing. I didn’t sign up for murder.”

“I’ll consider it,” I lied, and had him removed and Nelson brought in.

Nelson sat but said nothing.

“It was a scheme worthy of the Chief of UAS Intelligence.”

“You!” he stated firmly.

“Oh, no.” I shook my head as I reached down and picked up my P1A placard, which was hanging on a ribbon around my neck, and held it up so it was clear to see. “P1A authority. I have witnesses that Nash named you the head of the coup d’état cabal and Buchanan is willing to testify against you, but…” I held up my hand to stop any comments, “in a court of law a drunk lawyer could get the case dismissed. I have no real proof.”

Nelson’s face was twisted in rage and his eyes burned with hate, but he said nothing.

“Of course, you can appeal to the Committee you tried to manipulate.”

“I can give you the names of those that support us,” he said.

“You already did that, Mr. Nelson—everyone at this party,” I said. “What I find interesting is that there appears no loyalty among criminals.”

* * *

“Is my vacation on the agenda today?” I asked Martha as she, Seth, and Maxine entered.

“No, ma’am. The Core group wanted to see as soon as you arrived,” she said.

“I guess that means I’m late,” I said, taking my jacket from Maxine and exiting my office.

Bennett’s secretary, Gloria, nodded toward the door. “Go right in. They are expecting you.”

Inside, the three sat drinking coffee. Bennett spoke as I close the door. “Get something to drink and sit, Anna.” He waited for me to sit before continuing. “Mrs. Scherer has been telling us about her trip accompanying you. That alone will undo the damage the cabal managed to inflict. And the rumor is you’ve shut down the leaders of the group.”

“General Steve Nash committed suicide, Eastar Delegate Ryan Buchanan and the Chief of UAS Intelligence are on their way to Stonewall for treason.”

“What about those that supported them?” Bennett asked.

“They are just ambitious wannabes, and there is no law against being ambitious.”

“What about the assassin who tried to kill you?” Glaser asked.

“She was the cost of closing down the cabal,” I said.

The End