Traitor's Duty (14 page)

 “But…”

 “I think I need a private word with my father. Frank, can you handle the preparations.”

 “I should be going, damn it.”

 “Frank, he’s right,” she said. “About you, anyway.”

 “Besides, someone who knows the Cabal needs to be with the President for the negotiations. I think the lack of expert advice was half the trouble last time,” the Ambassador added.

 “Kristin, there’s no need for us to discuss anything. Once Lieutenant…”

 She turned back to him again, and said, “If the rest of you could give us the room, I’ll be out in a few minutes. Someone get my suit to the airlock.”

 “I’ll see to that,” the communications technician said, getting himself rapidly out of the line of fire as the others left the room. Nelyubov looked back for a second, as though he was going to return, but thought better of it.

 “I’ve never…,” the Senator began, but Harper shook her head.

 “Get this through your head, Dad. This is my job.”

 “You’re a security specialist. Not a field operative.”

 Shaking her head, she replied, “You really don’t understand any of this, do you? What do you think I was doing out there in the black for the last two years, exactly? Sitting in an office? I’ve fought in boarding actions, I’ve ridden shuttles into gas giants, wandered around derelict ships, and yes, I’ve been in gunfights, and yes,” her voice was rising to a shout, “I have
taken lives in battle
.”

 His face collapsed, and he said, “Whoever put you in that position…”

 “Better start with yourself, then.” She tugged at her uniform top, and said, “All of this, all of it, was your idea. You were the one who dragooned me into the Fleet, and I had to make the best of it, and I did. Here’s an admission for you – you were right. About joining the service. But if you thought it was going to turn me into something I’m not, you are very much mistaken.”

 “Someone with your experience should not have been placed in field situations.”

 “Where did you think you were sending me? Alamo went out on a four-month cruise into unexplored space, and there’s no such thing as ‘behind the lines’ out there. Then Spitfire Station, which wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, and back out again. And now here.”

 “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry to have put you through all of that.”

 “No, you aren’t. At least you weren’t, not at the time. I was an embarrassment, remember? Getting into all of the gossip sites, spoiling your chances of re-election.”

 “That was nothing to do with it,” he replied, his voice rising in response. “You were wasting your life, throwing it away, and I thought the Fleet could make best use of your talents. I didn’t expect them to turn you into some sort of commando.”

 “They didn’t, I did. I’m good at this, damn it. I own any computer system I see, and that means real-time operation – no time delays to mess things up. My place is on the front lines, and my place is out there now bringing back my friend.”

 “Your commanding officer,” he replied.

 “My friend,” she repeated. “That’s what this is all about. I don’t know what sort of a fleet you were in, but mine is different. I’ve been given room to do what I’m best at, not forced
into
being what I’m not.” Pointing at the window, she said, “In my judgment, that’s where I need to be.”

 “I’m giving you an order.”

 She barked a laugh, and replied, “I did read the regulations once, remember. You’re a Senator. Not in my chain of command. You can’t give me an order, and I think the President’s a bit busy at the moment to get involved in family squabbles, isn’t he? At least he damn well should be.”

 “Lieutenant Nelyubov…”

 “Doesn’t actually…,” she began, then said, “Never mind. Suffice to say that going is my decision, and that’s the end of it.”

 “What were you about to say?” he pressed. “He outranks you. You’re a Technical Officer, non-commissioned.”

 “I like that rank. Doesn’t tie me down too much, but lets me go where I need to be without anyone getting in the way.”

 “You asked for it?” he replied. “Picked your rank?” 

 “Actually, no,” she said, shaking her head. With a sigh, she said, “That isn’t actually my rank. It’s the one that’s on my records, but if you have enough of a security clearance, I’m…,” she paused, then continued, “a little higher than that. Logan thought I might need it someday. I guess he was right.”

 “Logan being soon-to-be-ex-Lieutenant-Captain Winter.”

 “Another friend I’m looking forward to seeing again.”

 “You’re right,” the Senator said. “This isn’t the Fleet I know.”

 “Welcome to the wonderful world of Triplanetary Intelligence. The rules work a little differently there, but I rather like it. Turns out I get a kick out of knowing what’s going on, rather than being one of the uninformed masses like I used to be. That, and I actually enjoy the work I do.” She paused, then said, “You’re going to have to get used to me going into harm’s way, Dad. That’s my job now, and you’ve got no-one to blame for it but yourself. If it makes any difference...I already signed up for a second term. Not sure if I’m going to go career, but I’m in for another three years once my enlistment is up. And this time it was my choice.”

 He looked at her, frowning, and said, “No-one pushed you into it?”

 “No-one even mentioned it. I filed the paperwork when Alamo got home, presumably some admin tech has signed off on it by now.” She looked up at the clock, and said, “I need to be going. Don’t worry, I’ve done this enough times that I know what I’m doing. I’m probably a better shot than you these days.”

 “We’ll have to test that theory out at some point.”

 “Later,” she said, heading for the door. She stopped at the threshold, and said, “Just make sure the President doesn’t make a deal we’ll regret.”

 “I’ll handle the politics. I suppose I can leave the daring rescues to you. Be careful.”

 She walked from the room, heading around the now-familiar corridors to the airlock, passing a pair of guards who snapped to attention as she approached. She froze for a second at the sight, shook her head, and walked on, heading around the long ring to the far end, where a worried-looking Nelyubov was waiting for her.

 “Bring her back alive, Harper,” he said, reluctantly passing her a pistol. “Did you sort everything out with your father?”

 “That’s going to take much more than a ten-minute conversation, but I think we’re getting back on the straight and narrow. Everyone ready out there?”

 “Talbot’s in the lead vehicle. All of them are set.” Looking from side to side, he said, “Don’t get caught. If it looks like they’ve grabbed her, don’t try any daring rescues.” She raised an eyebrow, and he added, “Well, not unless you are damn sure they’re going to work, anyway. Good Luck.”

 “Thanks, Frank,” she replied, sliding into her suit and stepping into the airlock. Her hands moved over the now-familiar pattern of checks, clicking switches and watching lights flash green on her chest display, before locking her helmet into position. All of this would have seemed beyond strange to the person she was a few years ago; now it was second nature, part of the daily routine.

 Two sleek trucks were waiting outside, inside the press perimeter. The journalist pack was thinning out considerably, boredom setting in after it became obvious that the bird they were interested in had flown. Still, a lot of photographers were paying special attention, and she hoped that the Embassy communication jammers were working properly. Then she looked at another airlock, and saw another group of troopers moving to surround them, stopping them from warning anyone of their departure; either Nelyubov or the Ambassador had come up with the same idea.

 She stepped into the airlock of the leading truck, pulling off her helmet as the inner door opened into the cramped cabin, and made her way forward to the driving compartment, dropping herself down next to a nervous Talbot, glancing up at her.

 “Ready to go?” she asked.

 “Everyone’s all set. Do we know where we’re going?”

 “Roughly.”

 “It’s a big desert out there. We might need more to work with than that.”

 “Maggie isn’t going to find herself, Lieutenant. Let’s get moving.”

 Talbot spoke into a microphone, giving orders to his counterpart on the other truck, and engaged the motor, the engine whining into life as the monitor systems began to wink into life, one after another. With a loud judder, the vehicle began to move forward, initially at a crawl, then faster as he ramped the engine up to full power. Harper pulled out a datapad with the little data she had managed to reap from the brief transmission, and started to plot a more accurate route for them to follow.

 “Up on this ridge,” she said, pointing at a spot on the screen. “That’s about five degrees out of the way, but it’s got the best line of sight. We’ll get the second truck up there to spot, and we’ll follow the path of the transmission as best we can.”

 Talbot frowned, and asked, “Shouldn’t we both try for the high ground?”

 “Whatever sort of a structure is out there must have been designed to be concealed from aerial or orbital survey. I’m not at all sure that it will be visible at all, even closer to the surface, which means we might have to do this the old-fashioned way. I do know that we’re going to only have a short head-start over the Security forces, and ideally we need to be at this place and well away before they get close.”

 “And if they get there first?”

 “That depends whether they’ve got there in force, but I’d hate to leave this mission unfinished.”

 “The men are ready for action, I know that much,” Talbot replied.

 “And you?”

 “I don’t want to see any of them go home in body bags.”

 She looked up at him, and asked, “Have you ever done this before?” 

 “Lots of patrols during our little insurgency, but no actual fighting. I missed the Battle of the Crater. Were you at that one?”

 “Before my time,” she replied. “I didn’t join the fleet until about six months later. Orlova…”

 “Is the reason we’re out here in the first place,” he said. “Though she doesn’t look anything like
she did in
the movie.”

 “There was a movie?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

 “Local production last year, a docu-drama. From what I heard they got most of the details wrong, though they did get Hunter’s Charge about right, I think. I’ll set you up with a copy.”

 The Embassy was now dropping away in the distance, receding behind the horizon as they gained speed. Harper’s eyes were fixed forward, looking for any sign of anything unusual, something distinct from the rest of the landscape. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for, a base, a crashed fighter...it could be almost anything.

 Occasionally, the truck stopped at an obstacle, and frustrating seconds ticked away while Talbot eased his way around. The other vehicle disappeared off into the distance with half their manpower, steadily climbing the ridge to get to the high ground.

 The communicator crackled, and with one hand, Talbot snatched the handset from its cradle, saying, “Buggy One. Go ahead.”

 “You’re going to have company soon,” a tinny voice replied. “We just picked up the chatter. No planes – not with the dust storm – but a couple of convoys on their way to you know. I’d say you’ve got about an hour to get the package and head home. You copy?”

 “We do. Out.” He turned to Harper, and said, “Now we’ve got a deadline.”

 “And we’re going to keep looking until the last possible minute.”

 “I’m not taking any unnecessary risks with the lives of my people.”

 “Our definition…,” she said, stopping as she saw something on the far horizon. It might just be a mound of dirt and rock, but it might be something else entirely. “Change your heading, three degrees right.”

 “On it,” he replied, straining into the middle distance. “There’s something there, right enough.”

 The communicator crackled again, and a distorted voice crackled, “Buggy Two to Buggy One. We’ve spotted the crashed airplane, and there’s someone near it. I think they’re trying to camouflage it.”

 “Can you get to it quickly?” Talbot asked.

 “Yes we can,” the voice replied. “There’s a gentler slope just ahead.”

 “Proceed with caution and detain whoever it is. It could be Orlova, trying to hide the landing site, so non-lethal only. Understood?”

 “Got that, boss. We’re on the job.”

 “Should we go help?” he asked.

 “No,” she replied. “That’s not Orlova. She’d have sent more than a few words, and they’d have made sense, unless she was in real trouble. At a guess, they’ve found one of her captors.”

 The truck raced ahead, bouncing over the desert in their frantic hurry to reach the formation. After a few moments more, Harper realized that she’d guessed right; this was a dome, well-hidden, but the only place on the track that Orlova might be hiding out. Talbot began to slow down, but she shook her head.

 “By now they must know that we’re coming.”

 “No surprise attack, then, just good old fashioned speed.”

 “I’m afraid so.”

 Nodding, he said, “We get as close as we can, then charge for the dome. With a little luck, they’ll surrender.”

  “I have a feeling that it won’t be quite so easy.”

Chapter 14

 The pain in Orlova’s leg was finally beginning to fade; her captors had been surprisingly adept field medics, though their bedside manner left a lot to be desired. Harriet was sitting by her side, the two of them back in the dome but this time with an improvised shelter to protect her from the simulated elements, and a bored-looking man sitting on a stool in the middle of the dome, a rifle in his hand.

 “How are you feeling?” Harriet asked.

 “Got any more silly questions?” she replied. “I got shot, and it hurts like hell, but I’ve had worse,
and the painkillers are just about working
. If we had access to a half-decent medical facility I’d be up and about in a few days. Left here it might take somewhat longer than that.”

 “
I don't get how you are taking this so calmly.”