Ghost War

Lakewood shook her head. “We found the body of a male answering that description early this morning. He had been beaten, but those were old wounds. He’d also been shot in the back of the head.”

A chill sank into my bones. The last person I’d seen him with had been Handy, which meant Handy had drilled him. If there were no other ops and no other cells, then Handy meant to betray us from the start. He takes Ray away, has him report to CDRF about our raid and say he’s getting more info on other operations, then is killed.

Reis’ voice became very cold. “There, yes, you’ve established you knew him. You found out he was my man inside the GGF, so you killed him.”

“But, if he was your man, then you would have reports about Mr. Handy.”

Lakewood raised a hand to silence Reis. “If you don’t mind, Commander.” She grabbed a handful of my hair and cranked my head back. “It breaks down simply like this. Prior to your joining the group overtly, all of your orders were communicated through Letitia. Mr. Handy is a sobriquet applied to a figure who appeared to give orders but, as nearly as the constable could document, only provided money and equipment. It appears that you have been covertly communicating with the GGF from the ARU facility—we have the communications logs to show access from the numbers. You ran the operation from there, used your materiel supplier, or one of his agents, as your front, and stepped in when the commander here eliminated your base of operations. Your setup was good for as long as it lasted, Mr. Donelly, but it slowly collapsed in on itself.”

I opened my mouth for a moment, then closed it. I’d been led into a box and just proceeded to close things up behind myself. The circumstantial evidence could make me into the group’s leader, while the physical evidence showed quite a trail of damage that could be laid right at my doorstep. Handy had sacrificed me, which would allow him to disappear. Reis could claim he’d broken the back of GGF, be hailed as a hero, and then Handy would use his other cells to do something else and crush Reis. My cell really had been the bait for a trap but, instead of springing it shut on Reis right then and there, they wanted to let hubris lead him on, then drop him the way Lakewood dropped Digger.

I glanced down at my gaudy knees. “You didn’t get the hovertruck?”

“Abandoned, but your people won’t get far.” Reis resumed his swaggering, then waved a hand dismissively. “He’s yours, take him. Get him out of here.”

“What?” I tried to shoot up out of my chair, but Lakewood got a hand on my shoulder and drove me back down into it. “We had a deal, Reis.”

“You didn’t give me any useful information, and you never would.”

“But you need me. You need a show trial, so you need me.”

He snorted. “Nonsense. I let Lady Lakewood haul you off and point out that you were a notorious terrorist who had escaped authorities on Acamar, but couldn’t get away from me. I cry loud and long about wanting to have tried you myself, and I vow to get you back here once Acamar is done with you, and I save myself a whole lot of budget problems. Trials are expensive, but media conferences are not.”

“I’m not going back to Acamar!” I shifted my shoulder from beneath her hand. “I have rights. I demand them. I want an extradition hearing!”

Reis chuckled. “You’re a Republic prisoner. I have no jurisdiction.”

“Look, you strutting ape, you’ve overstepped your bounds so many times, you might as well go one more. Hold me here.”

His eyes bulged and his face got purple. “Oh, I am so tempted, but the Universal Code gives me supreme discretion in such cases. And I decide to deny any request for extradition proceedings. He’s yours, my lady, to do with as you will.”

“You are most kind, Commander. I shall not forget this.”

The man smiled broadly. “Please remember me to your superiors.”

Reis swept from the room and Lakewood’s guards, Jack and Jill, came in through the open doorway. Jack hauled me to my feet and checked the restraints on my wrists. Jill bent and shackled my ankles with a meter of stout chain. Maria’s chainsaw might have gotten through it, but it would have taken more time than normally imagined.

Lakewood did do me one favor and waited until Reis had called the media together for a briefing before hustling me into the basement garage and into a hovercar. Jill drove. Jack sat beside me with his meaty right hand on the back of my neck. I rode the center of the seat while Lady Lakewood squeezed herself into the corner. I could feel her eyes on me and caught the little shakes of her head.

Republic identification let us into the spaceport and past security to the Leopard–class DropShip Valiant. Being one of the smaller DropShip designs, it had an aerodynamic shape and could carry four BattleMechs. Through the ports into the cargo hold I could see two: what I took to be a Centurion and a Black Hawk.

Jack helped me from the vehicle, then picked me up off the ground and marched me up the loading ramp. Jill drove the vehicle up another ramp and into the cargo bay. I expected Jack to hustle me through narrow corridors to a tiny cabin and shackle me to the wall, but instead he took me to a fairly large conference room and sat me down in a relatively comfortable chair.

He took up a position next to the hatchway, with his back to the bulkhead. He was just where I could only catch a hint of him without turning my head to the right, which I had no intention of doing. He wanted to make me look, and I refused. Because of my swollen left eye, though, I didn’t see Lakewood until she appeared past my left, and I jolted, rattling my chains.

Jack laughed.

Lakewood sat on the edge of a rectangular table back against the bulkhead opposite the door. She looked past me. “You can go now, thank you, Sergeant Gaskin.”

“As you wish, my lady. He may be restrained, but he is still dangerous.”

She nodded slowly. “I will be careful.”

I snorted. “So will I. Not a word about Acamar. I don’t care what you do.”

“I’ve heard that before.” The door shut behind Jack and she levered herself off the table. “I think, however, I have the key that might unlock your tongue.”

And with that she took my face in her hands and planted on me the third-best kiss I’ve ever had.

11

A sense of duty is moral glue, constantly subject to stress.

Outbound, Republic DropShip Valiant

Helen

Prefecture III, Republic of the Sphere

23 November 3132

That kiss would have been solidly at number two, and might have rivaled even number one, save that my face was still tender from the beating I’d taken. Moreover, still being shackled prevented me from slipping my arms around her and hugging her tightly. Despite those handicaps, it was still a seriously great kiss, and since she’d already planted the gold and silver kisses on me, this one taking the bronze was not a bad thing at all.

I licked my lips as she pulled back, tasting her and smiling. “It’s been so long, I’d begun thinking you were a fantasy spun out of Tri-Vids and dreams.”

She towered over me and traced a finger over my left cheek. “I’ve missed you terribly, Mason. Four months and no word.”

I stared up. “You didn’t get the messages I sent?”

She shook her head and stepped back. “Not a one. I did get reports that money was moving into and out of your account, so we knew you were here, but nothing else.”

I sighed. Because I’d come to Helen as a drifter, I couldn’t be sending high-priority, high-cost messages to a Knight of The Republic without attracting a lot of attention. I did send lower-priority messages designed to go through a cutout who would relay them on to others, and eventually they’d get to Janella—or at least that was the plan. I’d sent one a week, but with the collapse of the grid, what little traffic was getting out had to be the high-price stuff.