Fire with Fire

Chapter Thirty-Two

TELEMACHUS

Commodore James Beall leaned back and glared at Trevor Corcoran. “So let’s add up the list of violations to which you have already admitted. Exercising multiple command prerogatives in a unit to which you are not assigned, including illegal access to communication logs, orbital imagery, meteorological projections, and counterintelligence databases. Conceiving, planning, and executing an operation with the assets of said unit, without consulting or even informing its actual command staff. Requisitioning combat equipment-including a fully loaded attack sled-and authorizing the application of lethal force. Suborning three persons of this command, and inciting them to desertion-”

“Hold on. I gave them orders-and they didn’t know I didn’t have the authority to do so.”

“Nice try. They already told us they were operating as volunteers.”

“Bullshit. They’re lying. They’re just trying to keep me out of the brig.”

“Lieutenant Commander Corcoran, you’re the one dishing out the bullshit. You have personal connections to all three, and they all know damn well that you’re not a part of this command. Hell, just three years ago, you were their CO. You’d be a shitty SEAL officer if your men weren’t ready to volunteer to get your ass out of a sling.”

The door opened. “Not his ass, Commodore: his sister’s.” Downing walked in, Elena behind him.

The commodore stood, stiffly, but also cautious. “Sir, I’m not sure what you think you’re do-”

Richard already had his credentials out; he handed them to Commodore Beall as he walked past, moving to Trevor’s side.

Beall looked at the credentials, eyebrows rising slightly. Then he put them on the table, slid them down toward Richard.

“Very well, sir. You certainly have the authority to be here and to watch these proceedings, but-”

“Commodore, I also have the authority to end these proceedings and dismiss whatever charges you have recorded against Lieutenant Commander Corcoran.”

“Mr. Downing, with all due respect-”

“Commodore, Commander Corcoran was operating on my orders.”

Trevor managed not to start in surprise-or smile.

“Sir, you’ll forgive me if I find that extremely improbable. You’ve been Marside less than three hours.”

“I wasn’t aware you were monitoring my travel itinerary.”

“You’d be surprised what we monitor here, Mr. Downing-or actually, you shouldn’t be surprised, of all people.”

“Regardless, rescuing his sister was an urgent and immediate priority, and had to be done without taking any chance of alerting her captors to the operation.”

“Well then, Mr. Downing, I would appreciate you telling me why it was necessary to leave me out of the loop-and, sir, if I don’t like the answer, I will have no choice but to lodge a protest.”

“Feel free to do so, Commodore Beall-and I recommend that you skip all the intermediate steps and send it to your very highest superior.”

“Admiral Tanaka?”

“No, President Liu. Or didn’t you note the clearance and rank-equivalent on my ID?”

“I did sir, but-”

Downing just kept staring at Beall.

Who ultimately shrugged and looked away. “Sir, why did it have to be this way-or are you just retroactively covering Trevor’s ass?”

Trevor wondered if Downing would be able to avoid smiling at Beall’s insightful question. Elena-still standing at the other end of the room-continued to look tense: she’d never seen high-stakes interagency poker, in which each party plays its authority cards until someone blinks and the game is over. And Beall had blinked.

Richard’s voice was level, nonconfrontational. “Commodore Beall, I am unable to answer your question due to matters of national security.”

“Oh, fer Chrissakes-look: I’d have been happy to help. And I can keep a lid on things. We could have worked together-under the radar, out of sight of the higher brass.”

“I know, and I appreciate your willingness to help. But, Commodore, do you realize that that same kind of willingness has now landed Lieutenant Winfield, Chief Petty Officer Witkowski, and Petty Officer Cruz in your brig?”

“Okay, I’ll let ’em off-as Trev always knew I would.”

Downing shook his head. “Commodore, I wasn’t trying to get them released, nor call attention to the rather striking inconsistency in your own insistence upon proper chain of command procedure-”

Beall flushed. “Now, listen-”

“What I was trying to indicate is that we had to keep Ms. Corcoran’s name completely out of all reports, and out of all media. As far as anyone knows, she was never abducted. And that means you do not have to lie about having mounted a rescue operation-because you didn’t. Nor did your superiors.” Downing paused. “Do you understand?”

Beall turned round to look at Elena, looked back at Richard. “Yes, I do. Sir.”

“Very well. I have one last directive for you to expedite.”

“Very well.”

“I would like the three SEALs you have in the brig released and issued immediate medical furloughs, with transport passes for Earth.”

“What? Why? My men-”

“Commodore. Those men are no longer ‘your’ men. We can’t have them talking to their teams.”

“And I can’t spare them, Mr. Downing. I’m pretty shorthanded up here; I’ve only got two teams in the shack and these three are my most experienced-”

“Commodore, I’m sorry, but this cannot be a matter of debate. And I would also appreciate your writing them sterling letters of recommendation should it become necessary to discharge them from service.”

Beall went back in his seat as if he had been hit in the chest. “Discharge them from-? Downing, this can’t be necessary. These are good men-the best. They can keep a secret-Christ, they’re already sitting on a few. You don’t need to-”

“Commodore. Your appreciation of them is duly noted. And I assure you, this will not in any way damage their careers. Now, if you would kindly begin the necessary paperwork…”

Beall frowned. “Not as though I have much choice, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, but no, you don’t.”

Beall looked over at Trevor and jerked his head toward the door. “We’re through. And Trev-”

Trevor heard the shift in tone, stopped.

“Sorry about your father. You too, Ms. Corcoran.”

“Thank you, Uncle Richard. Those were some inspired lies.”

Downing shrugged, smiled as they entered the transit car.

“But how did you find out that Beall had detained me? Hell, I didn’t even know you were on-planet yet-”

The car’s doors closed with a rough sigh. “No, but evidently Elena did.”

Trevor slid into the seat next to his sister, smiled at her. “Nice work, sis.” The car started its pneumatic journey down into the residential levels of Syrtis City.

“One good rescue deserves another, I always say.”

Richard leaned back as he looked at her. “You do seem remarkably well-collected after your ordeal.”

“Which only goes to prove that you were right about my having missed a career in the theater,” she said. “I’m just looking forward to getting into a hot bath. And then shaking. A lot.”

Trevor resisted the impulse to nod in empathy. “I’m sorry, El, but I’ve got to ask: have you remembered anything else about the bastards?”

“No, just what I told you in the VTOL. They were careful not to talk around me and wouldn’t answer questions. But they seemed impatient-as though they were waiting for orders and didn’t know what to do next.”

Richard nodded. “Cat’s-paws. Pawns in someone else’s game.”

“Whose?”

“Don’t know. Maybe the megacorporations-but kidnapping the daughter of a recently deceased hero is daft. Frankly, I can’t see how it would benefit any of the players we know about. And I’ve got another mystery I’d like solved.” He turned to Elena. “How in blazes did you know I was here already?”

“Because you’ve been fussing about Dad’s memorial for two months, making sure we’d all be here on time, were not traveling together-and making sure it was timed so that Mom’s schedule didn’t allow her to come out. Don’t give me the big-eyed innocent look: it might not be obvious to her, but it was to me. If the main purpose for this memorial was to honor Dad’s memory, you’d have made sure that Mom was here.”

Trevor was suddenly aware that his mouth was open: what was this all about?

Richard’s response only made his confusion worse. “No fooling you, eh, El?”

Trevor felt the car buck sideways and then drop: they were in a descent tube, now. “If it’s not too much trouble, would one of you please tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

Elena nodded toward Downing. “Dad’s memorial is a cover for something else. Richard and Dad used to do this sort of thing all the time. They created social events which were an excuse for them to be in the same place at the same time-so they could get their work done. And that’s what this memorial is: a cover.”

Richard shook his head. “That’s not entirely accurate either, Elena. Your father’s become quite a provocative figure in the last three months, particularly in certain nations of the Undeveloped World. From both the standpoint of his memory, and security for his family, an immediate post-mortem ceremony on Earth would not have been prudent.”

Trevor frowned. “But you didn’t deny that his memorial is, at least in part, a cover for something else.”

In the uncomfortable two seconds of silence that followed, Trevor felt as though the Richard he had always known was undergoing some swift and horrible transmogrification into an unknown entity, a creature which, if stuck with a pin, would bleed shadows and mist. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Downing looked at his hands. “I couldn’t. Things have been changing dramatically since Parthenon. And they’re about to change even more dramatically.”

Elena’s eyes had never left Richard’s face. “You’re bringing us inside, aren’t you?”

Inside: the word that Trevor and Elena had adopted as the shorthand label for whatever it was that Dad and Uncle Richard did together-and could never talk about. Inside was the forbidden place-so forbidden that they intrinsically knew to keep Dad from learning that they even had a special word for it.

Richard had been nodding. “Yes, you’re being brought inside. At the request of others.”

“Others? What others?”

“That’s part of what we’ll be talking about after the memorial.”

Elena looked up as the car began slowing. “This is where I get off.”

“Not anymore.” Downing’s tone was sad, not imperious.

Elena stopped, half-risen, to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Trevor nodded, understanding. “He means you can’t stay on your own. You were kidnapped, and we can’t even be sure of the reasons yet. Right now, we’ve got to arrange security for you, keep you close.”

“For how long?”

The car had started again; Downing looked out the narrow slit window into the rushing darkness. “I wish I could say.”

ODYSSEUS

The attacks seemed to come from every direction. First a low kick, which Caine reflexively downblocked, but before he could launch into a counterpunch, he was battered back by a flurry of strikes: a downblow (fended off with a rising block), then a front snap kick that he narrowly backstepped and a quick right-left sequence of punches (inside block, outside block) followed by a roundhouse kick-

— which did not come. But having anticipated it, Caine had started to turn inside the expected arc of the kick, intending to interrupt the attack before it could come around.

But suddenly, there was no attacker there-not standing, anyway. Caine felt the sole of a small, hard foot slam into the back of his knee. He had just enough time to realize-she dropped low and then kicked straight-before he went down.

He broke his fall-and was then knocked flat as she landed on his back. The air went out of him with a sound that was part groan and part hoot-a noise so comical that instead of feeling disappointment at being dropped again, he started laughing into the floor mat. A moment later, he heard-and felt in her body-that she had joined in.

He rolled over-and found Opal’s face very close-unnecessarily close-to his. He smiled. “You win.”

“I ought to. But you’re getting better. Pretty good, actually.”

“Well, I have a great teacher.” He decided not to move.

She apparently made a similar decision to continue their conversation nose-to-nose. “And I’ll keep teaching you-as long as you keep it our secret.”

“That’s a deal. Time for another fall?”

“Yeah, I guess I’ve got enough time to kick your butt again.” Her eyes widened. “Shit! The time! I’m late!” Her weight was suddenly off of him, departing with a farewell waft of her shampoo.

“Late? Late for what?”

“For a meeting with our favorite spy guy, Downing. He paged me just before we started. Shall I send him your regards?”

Caine just looked at her. “Have a nice time.”

“Yeah. Sure. It’ll be a party. I’ll be dancing on his desk.”

“That I would like to see. But maybe you’ll consent to tell me about all the fun later. Over dinner?”

He held his breath a little: it’s a small step, but all our prior meals together have been happenstance or convenience. This time, there’s no real reason for us to eat together-which means it can almost be interpreted as a “first date.”

His anxiety over her response was short-lived: her smile was quick and very wide. “Great! That’s-great! I’ll call you as soon as Scarecrow lets me loose.”

“Deal.”