Search for the Phoenix: Phoenix Series Book 2 (25 page)

Megan gave him a questioning look. “I suppose. What do you need to see her for?”

Nolan reached into his shirt and pulled a necklace out. He passed the chain over his head and handed it to Megan.

She held the beautiful silver script in her palm. “I understand. We need to get this to her, but you should be resting, and you shouldn’t be traveling all over Dawson where the wrong SACOM officer might see you. I can have Derick give this to Ronnie.”

Nolan shook his head. “No, I need to give it to her personally. She deserves better than getting that from a stranger.”

“I’ll contact Derick when we get back to the ship. You can rest, and then we’ll take care of this.”

“Thank you,” Nolan said.

She slipped the chain over his head and tucked it inside his shirt. “You should keep this until we see her.”

“Can you carry my suitcase? My ribs are killing me.”

* * * *

Captain Jiorgenson knocked on General Nelson’s door. A moment later, Major Anderson opened it enough to look out. “General Nelson is rather busy at the moment. Is there something I can do for you, Captain?”

Jiorgenson quickly put the envelope behind his back. “No… I’ll come back later.”

“Is that Captain Jiorgenson?” Nelson asked.

Anderson glanced at the captain’s name tag. “Yes, sir.”

“Let him in,” Nelson commanded.

“I think it would be better if I came back later,” Jiorgenson said.

“Oh hell, Niles, get in here!” the general yelled.

Jiorgenson rushed into the office, and the major closed the door behind him. “General, I have something important to discuss with you in private.”

“You can say anything in front of Major Anderson,” Nelson said.

Jiorgenson looked at the major, and then back to the general. “This really is a sensitive matter, General.”

“Son, I’m a busy man. If you have something to say, spit it out,” the general said.

With a glance at the major, Jiorgenson reluctantly passed the envelope to Nelson. “Take a look at these.”

The general took the envelope and opened it. Major Anderson moved around the desk and looked over the general’s shoulder. “I see components for a SACOM weapon prototype, and wreckage of a ship, or perhaps multiple ships.”

“Look closely at the markings on the hull sections,” Jiorgenson said.

The general examined the pictures closely. “Where did you get these?” he asked.

“May I have a closer look, sir?” Eric asked.

Nelson passed the pictures to the major.

“The wreckage was salvaged near the belt where the First Fleet was ambushed,” Niles said.

“These weapons were integrated into the Xetian ships,” Eric said.

“Yes. The man who gave me those pictures took them himself. He saw the wreckage up close. If you remember, several of the commanders from the First Fleet said the Xetians had weapons far more powerful than anything they were known to possess.”

“Someone inside SACOM armed the Xetians,” Eric said.

“So it would appear,” Nelson said. “Either someone wanted the plutonium for themselves, or they wanted the Xetians to get it.”

“I’ll bet it was Segal,” Eric said. “We know he was part of the conspiracy to steal the plutonium.”

“Segal was the commander of one of the cruisers that the Xetians destroyed. He was as surprised as anyone by the power of the Xetian weapons,” Nelson said.

“Who, then?” Jiorgenson asked.

“Captain, I think you’re the man to answer that question. Contact the Weapons Development Group and see what you can find out,” the general said.

“Well, sir, I would have to clear that with my supervisor, Vice Admiral Tompkins,” Jiorgenson said.

The general looked at him for a moment, and then said, “Captain, you’ve seen what’s going on around here.” He held up the pictures. “And you’ve seen these. I’m operating on orders from the senate to facilitate a change in leadership here. That includes Vice Admiral Tompkins.”

“Who else is being removed?” Niles asked.

“That’s not important right now, Captain,” Major Anderson said.

Jiorgenson looked at the major. “I think it is. General Nelson is asking me to conduct an investigation to assist you in your operation. I’m not going to be dragged into something without knowing who’s on the other side!”

Major Anderson opened his mouth to respond, but General Nelson raised a hand, stopping him. In a calm tone, the general said, “Captain Jiorgenson, I’m not asking you to be involved in our operation. In fact, I don’t want your help. I’m using a handpicked group of my own people. But this,” he held up the pictures again, “is directly related to your ongoing investigation into who was involved in stealing the plutonium and what they did with it.”

Jiorgenson took the pictures from the general and put them back into the envelope. “Yes, sir, I see your point. I’ll let you know what I find. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have work to do.”

General Nelson said, “Captain, do not draw attention to the fact that Vice Admiral Tompkins is missing.”

Jiorgenson paused, his hand on the doorknob. Without looking back, he said, “Of course.”

When the door closed, Eric said, “He knows too much.”

“Yes, that’s true, but it can’t be helped,” the general replied. “He’s already in deep by helping me get Nolan Peters out of here, and we need to know who armed the Xetians.”

“I still don’t like it. What if he says the wrong thing to someone?”

The general shook his head. “Relax, Eric. He’s not going to do anything stupid.”

“I think we should initiate our operation now,” Eric said. “Everything is in place and our people are ready.”

“I would agree with you, but now I want to find out who armed the Xetians. It could change everything. Let’s give Jiorgenson a little time,” Nelson said.

“But we’ve been planning this for weeks,” Eric objected.

“And we can wait a little longer.

Niles Jiorgenson rushed into his office and locked the door, and then pulled out his data unit as he sat at his desk. A quick search gave him the contact information for the Weapons Development Group. “Damn,” he muttered, “They’re on Halceon. I can’t go there today.” He checked the current time for that part of Halceon. “And it’s the middle of the night there.” Looking at the Halceon calendar, he tossed his data unit on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “And it’s the start of the weekend there. Damn it!”

After a moment, he leaned forward, grabbed his data unit, and checked the length of a day on Halceon. “Twenty-seven point three hours.” He looked at the clock. Doing some mental arithmetic, he then set an alarm on his data unit. Flipping back to the contact information, he said, “Captain Cynthia Kepler, I’m probably going to ruin your weekend.”

Niles rolled over and fumbled for his data unit, which was blaring on the bedside table. Picking it up, he shaded his eyes against its flashing light. Silencing the alarm, he pushed back the covers and sat up before turning on a lamp. He again shaded his eyes and waited as they slowly adjusted before opening a secure comm link.

Cynthia Kepler was enjoying breakfast on her deck overlooking her water garden. Fish swam lazily in the cool water, occasionally sending out concentric ripples as they came to the surface to eat some small morsel. She was enjoying the peace and serenity of her first day off in months when her data unit chimed.

Picking it up, she saw that it was a secure comm link from a Captain Niles Jiorgenson of Central Command. She opened the link. “Captain, to what do I owe the honor of your contact on my day off?” she asked as she glared at the image of a man she’d never met before, sitting cross-legged on his bed. The window behind him was dark. “And it’s the middle of the night there.”

“I’m sorry, Captain, but this is most urgent. Are you alone?” Niles asked.

“I’m not in a secure location, but I am alone,” she said.

“I need information regarding some weapon prototypes we’ve found.”

Cynthia shook her head. “Weapon prototypes are classified. I cannot discuss any details of their design or operation with you.”

“I don’t want technical details, Captain. I need to know how SACOM weapon prototypes ended up on the Xetian ships that destroyed the First Fleet.”

Cynthia bobbled her data unit, nearly dropping it. “That’s impossible!”

“I’m sending you some pictures. Look at them and tell me it’s not possible,” he said.

A moment later, a series of pictures appeared, and she began scrolling through them.

“I don’t understand. These weapons were delivered to Space Station Twelve for field trials.”

“Who authorized the transfer?” Niles asked.

“First Admiral Bennett, of course. She’s the only one who can authorize the transfer of weapon prototypes,” Cynthia said.

“When did she send you the transfer authorization?”

“She didn’t. She came here personally to authorize the transfer.”

“Does she often do that?” Niles asked.

“I’ve been the commander here for more than thirteen years, and that was the first time I’d met her in person. The development was almost a month behind schedule, and she came here to chew me out. She told me to get those systems ready for field trials, even if I had to work my people around the clock, and get them to Twelve on schedule.”

“Did the first admiral have any other reason for visiting your facility?” he asked.

“None. She went straight from her transport to my office, ripped me a new one, and went right back to the transport.”

“Thank you, Captain. You’ve been extremely helpful. I’m sorry for interrupting your off-duty time,” Niles said.

“That’s all right, Captain. Oh, and by the way, nice underwear,” she said before closing the comm link.

Niles looked down at himself, and then quickly pulled the covers over his lap. Without bothering to check the local clock for Space Station Twelve, Niles pulled up the directory and opened a comm link to the station commander.

When the link opened, he said, “Lieutenant Commander Tarlek, I need some information.”

* * * *

Lance Nelson rolled over, turned on a light, and picked up his data unit. Opening the comm link, he said, “Captain Jiorgenson, I assume you have something extremely urgent to be calling me at this hour.”

“Yes, General. According to the head of Weapons Development, Captain Cynthia Kepler, those weapon prototypes were transferred to Space Station Twelve for field trials. First Admiral Bennett went to Halceon in person to authorize the transfer,” Niles said.

“So there wouldn’t be a comm link record,” the general said.

“It gets worse, sir. I contacted the commander of Space Station Twelve, Lieutenant Commander Ryan Tarlek. He took command of Twelve a few weeks before the First Fleet was attacked. He has no personal knowledge of the weapons, and there are no official records of them arriving or leaving Twelve. However, he said his people in the cargo handling section talk about a shipment of weapons that arrived and then left two days later on a commercial freighter.”

“Who was in command of Twelve before him?” Nelson asked.

“A Captain William Firth. I tried to look at his personnel record, but it’s locked.”

“With all the talk about those weapons leaving on a commercial freighter, does anyone know the name of the ship?” Nelson asked.

“On his third day in command of Space Station Twelve, the lieutenant commander found a handwritten letter taped to the underside of his desk. It was signed by Captain Firth. It said he had been ordered by Bennett to transfer weapons to a commercial freighter called Caroline’s Dream. It detailed the ensuing argument between himself and Bennett. Firth concluded the letter saying he feared for his life.”

“Did he tell anyone else about the letter?” Nelson asked.

“No, sir. He wasn't sure who he could trust. He was reluctant to tell me, at first. I promised him we wouldn't connect him with the information.”

“Thank you, Captain. I’ll see what I can find out about Captain Firth. You track down Caroline’s Dream,” Nelson said.

Before Niles could reply, the link closed. He placed the data unit on the table, pulled up the covers, and went back to sleep.

* * * *

Niles was still tired when he walked into his office, having spent half the night interviewing commanders and briefing General Nelson. He yawned as he sat at his desk and began searching the registry of ships, looking for Caroline’s Dream.

He expected to enter the ship’s name and press enter. Instead, the search engine presented him with layer upon layer of questions.

Type of vessel?

He selected
freighter
from the list.

Weight class of freighter?

“Weight class? How the hell should I know? Tarlek didn’t even know!” he shouted. He selected
light
.

Hyperspace vessel?

“What? I don’t know! Yes, damn you!” He selected
yes
.

The system responded with
There are no hyperspace freighters in the lightweight class. New search?

“Then why was it an option?” he yelled as he selected
yes
.

Type of vessel?

“Are you kidding me? I have to start from the beginning!” He selected
freighter
.

Weight class of freighter?

He selected
medium
.

Hyperspace vessel?

“Wait a minute. Think, Niles,” he said to himself out loud. “If they picked up the weapons from Space Station Twelve and delivered them to the Xetians, it had to be a hyperspace ship.” He selected
yes
.

Name of vessel?

He typed
Caroline’s Dream
.

No vessels match search parameters. New search?

“Yes, damn you!” he shouted as he clicked
yes
.

He jumped when someone knocked on his door. Turning his data unit face down on the desk, he yelled, “Come in!”

“The door is locked, sir,” Lieutenant Linda Groves said.

Niles crossed the room and opened the door. “What?” he snapped.

“Are you okay, sir? I heard yelling,” she said.

Niles took a deep breath and calmed himself. “Yes, Lieutenant, I’m fine. I’m trying to… find something, and the database search function was coded by an idiot.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

He considered her offer, wondering if telling her the name of the ship was a risk of any sort. On the other hand, this was an urgent matter and he was getting nowhere. “Do you know how to run a search for a vessel by name?” he asked.

“Is that all? That’s not hard. Let me help you.” She walked to his desk and waited for him to join her. Niles moved to the desk, flipped his data unit over, and showed her the screen.

Lieutenant Groves broke out laughing. “You’re using the text interface? No wonder you’re yelling. There’s an AI interface to all of SACOM’s databases, sir.”

“There is?”

She smiled and nodded as she picked up his data unit and exited the search window. Flicking pages and pressing icons, she said, “Here it is. Since you’ve never used it, it was buried near the back of your applications list.”

A synthesized voice said, “Good morning, Captain Jiorgenson. My name is Judith. How can I be of assistance?”

Niles looked at Linda. She smiled and nodded. “I’ll leave you to your work, sir.” She turned and left the office, closing the door.

“Hello, Judith. I need the registry data for a freighter called Caroline’s Dream,” Niles said.

“There is no vessel by that name in Caldon’s registry. I will check the other systems. This will take a moment while I connect through the hyperspace relay network to each of the colonized worlds.”

“That’s fine. Take your time,” he said as he stood and began walking to the door.

“The freighter Caroline’s Dream is registered to a company on Cordanth called Marlow Freight,” Judith reported.

Niles stopped, having taken only two steps. “Who owns Marlow Freight?”

The company is owned by Caroline Anne Marlow,” Judith said.

“Would you please create a text copy of that information and leave it on my home screen? I need to send it to someone.”

“I have left the information, as requested. I can forward it to another party, if you would like,” Judith said.

“No, thank you. I need further data before I send it,” he said. “What can you tell me about this Caroline Marlow?”

Judith began quoting a steady stream of facts. “Caroline Anne Marlow, thirty-four years old, resident of Cordanth, daughter of Martin Ezekiel Kase and his first wife, Marriam Elizabeth Kase, married to Kevin Sebastiani Marlow—”

“Stop!” Niles yelled. “She’s Senator Kase’s daughter?”

“She is the daughter of Senator Martin Ezekiel Kase,” Judith replied.

“Damn it!” Niles said as he ran for the door.

* * * *

“Yes, Senator Kase, I understand the urgency,” General Nelson said. “We will execute our plan in five days.”

“Why is this taking so long? Can’t you just go up there and arrest her?” the senator asked.

“This is a delicate matter. It requires planning and careful execution, or people could die,” Nelson said.

Senator Kase nodded. “Very well. Five days. You’re going to stick to our plan, right? She’s got powerful friends.”

“Yes, Senator. The first admiral will put up a fight, and she will die in the struggle.”

Kase smiled. “Good man. I knew I could count on you.” The comm link closed.

Major Anderson smiled. “So, when do we start?”

“Right now,” the general said as he pushed back his chair and stood. “The team is waiting.”

“You really don’t trust Senator Kase,” Eric said.

“Not in the slightest,” Lance replied.

Eric nodded. “Let’s take her down!”

* * * *

Lieutenant Stevens pulled out his data unit when it chimed and read a message.

He will begin his unlawful coup in five days. He and his loyalists must be neutralized, permanently. All necessary force is authorized.

“What is it?” Second Lieutenant Walter Pierce asked.

“Nelson is going to try to seize control of SACOM in five days. We’ll spend three more days looking for Vice Admiral Tompkins, and then we have to get back to Central Command to rally the rest of our squad and stop him. The general and his misguided followers are going to die.”

“How does she know he’ll start in five days?” Pierce asked.

“I don’t know!” Stevens snapped. “That’s why she’s the first admiral!”

Pierce looked at the data unit and saw the message header. “Who is
Justin Case
?”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s a code name,” Stevens said.

“Ah, so that’s from Bennett herself.” Pierce said.

“Damn, you are stupid! The first admiral of SACOM doesn’t waste her time sending messages to security team leaders. This is from one of her underlings, I expect,” Stevens said.

“You don’t know who the message is from, but we’re going to kill people, and I’m the stupid one?” Pierce asked.

Stevens turned on him and glared. “It’s from one of her underlings. I regularly get messages from this address with orders from Bennett.”