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"It's a pity you can't just a
"Assuming they were prepared to believe anybody where political promises are concerned."
"There is that," Van Dort conceded. Then he smiled. The expression was so unexpected Terekhov blinked in surprise.
"What?" the Manticoran asked.
"I was just reading between the lines of Baroness Medusa's instructions. She must have twisted Aleksandra's arm right to the brink of dislocation."
Terekhov cocked an eyebrow, and Van Dort chuckled.
"Given everything I just told you about the relationship between Aleksandra and Rajkovic, do you think she really wants us rummaging around in Split, outside her ability to control what we do? If she's requested Manticoran support on the basis outlined in my instructions, with Rajkovic approving or disapproving our actions on the spot, then Dame Estelle must have figured out a way to screw a pulser muzzle straight into her ear canal. This could actually be fairly interesting."
"But it does take us away from Montana," Terekhov pointed out.
"Yes, it does. I'm not sure that that's a bad thing, though."
"Why not?"
"I've been spending a fair amount of time with Trevor Ba
"I hope that's not just whistling in the dark," Terekhov said. "Either way, though, we have our movement orders."
"Yes, we do." Van Dort frowned with the expression of a man trying to remember something that was at the tip of his mental tongue. Then he snapped his fingers.
"What?" Terekhov asked.
"I almost forgot. When I was down at Trevor's office this morning, he gave me a new piece of information. I'm not sure where he got it-he's protecting his sources carefully-but it seems Westman's been in contact with at least one off-worlder who appears to be very... supportive of his position."
"He has?" Terekhov frowned. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Neither do I. The last thing we need is some sort of interstellar coordinating committee operating Cluster-wide."
"Absolutely. Do we know anything about this mysterious stranger?"
"Not much," Van Dort admitted. "All we really know is that he met with Westman about two T-months ago and that he was identified only by the codename 'Firebrand.' What he and Westman discussed, where 'Firebrand' came from, and where he went when he left, are all unanswered questions, but the name itself has some unpleasant co
"It does, indeed."
Terekhov frowned some more, then shrugged.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it for now," he said, and reached out to punch an address combination into his desktop com.
"Bridge, Officer of the Watch speaking," Lieutenant Commander Kaplan said.
"Are all our people back aboard, Naomi?"
"Yes, Sir. They are."
"Very well. In that case, request permission from Montana Traffic Control for us to leave orbit and depart the system for Split.
"Well, 'Firebrand,'" Aldona Anisimovna said as Damien Harahap walked into the conference room attached to her Estelle Arms Hotel suite on Monica. "Welcome back. How was your trip?"
"Long, Ms. Anisimovna," he replied. In fact, he'd left Monica better than three T-months ago. He'd spent most of that time traveling between star systems, pe
Anisimovna and Bardasano sat on the other side of the -crystal-topped conference table. Izrok Levakonic was supposed to be there, but there was no sign of him. Harahap nodded his head in the direction of Levakonic's empty chair in silent question, and Anisimovna smiled.
"Izrok's out at Eroica Station," she said. "He's helping out with a minor technical problem the Monican Navy's experiencing, and he'll probably be stuck out there for the next few days. Go ahead with your report. Isabel and I will see to it that he's brought up to date."
"Of course, Ma'am."
'Technical problem,' is it? Harahap snorted mentally behind his expressionless eyes. And just how much would that have to do with all those battlecruisers which have miraculously appeared here in Monica?
The Gendarmerie captain was begi
In any case, that part of the operation wasn't his responsibility.
"While I was gone," he began, "I contacted Westman in Montana, Nordbrandt in Split, and Jeffers in Tillerman. The quick overview is that, of the three, Nordbrandt's definitely the best suited to our needs. Jeffers talks a good fight, but my impression is that he's actually too shy to come out of the woodwork without a great deal of additional encouragement. Westman's the big question mark. I suspect that in terms of capability, he leaves both the other two in the dust. And my impression is that he's deeply committed to his beliefs. But he's also much more opposed to inflicting casualties. In terms of representing a serious threat to his own government, or to OFS, he's probably the most dangerous. But in terms of our need for a threat which is spectacular, however genuine it may or may not be, his disinclination to kill people is definitely a strike against him."
He looked back and forth between the two women. Both of them were listening intently, and Bardasano had a memo pad in front of her. They weren't going to interrupt him with questions until he'd finished his basic presentation, he realized. That was nice. Too many of his uniformed superiors were too in love with demonstrating their own insightful intelligence to keep their mouths shut until people who knew what was really happening could finish explaining it to them in short sentences of single-syllable words.
"I'd like to discuss each of these three possibilities in increasing order of value, if that's acceptable?" he asked. Anisimovna nodded, and he smiled.
"Thank you. In that case, let's get Jeffers out of the way. First of all, Jeffers doesn't have a very good grasp of operational security," Harahap began. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he's already been pretty thoroughly penetrated by local counterintelligence types. When I spoke to him, he said he..."