Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

“All right. There should be enough parts left for some identification. Let’s find out who they both are, so the police can go talk to their friends before the friends can go underground.” He stood up, grimacing at the sight of the dead bodyguards. “Somebody besides those two you took care of is going to pay a price for this.”

“Say the word and name the target,” Morgan said, her grin fully exposing her canines.

His comm unit buzzed in a particular pattern. Drakon pulled it out. “Here.”

“Artur?” Iceni sounded very worried. Most of him felt good about that, but part of him couldn’t help wondering if it was because a plan of hers might have misfired. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, but I lost three guards.”

“What happened? All I heard was a firefight. Someone tried to flood the media with reports you were dead.”

“Did they?” Drakon asked. “Can you trace those back to their source?”

“We’re trying. Did you get any of them?”

“Two, at least. One was alive, but he had remote-suicide nanos in him. Somebody is definitely playing for keeps.”

A pause, then Iceni spoke again. “Is there anything you need from me?”

“Just make sure the police and my troops don’t knock heads. I have a feeling the attackers who took off have already vanished into the woodwork.”

“I’ll do that. Take care of yourself.”

Drakon put away his comm unit, noticing that Morgan was looking down at the dead attacker with an inquiring gaze. “See something?” he asked.

“Who really wants you out of the way?” Morgan answered him with a question of her own.

“Besides whatever snakes remain in this star system? You tell me.”

“Madam President.” Morgan nodded toward the dead man. “Who has access to that kind of nano? And those kind of weapons?”

“The snakes,” Drakon said patiently.

“They’re not the only ones.” She used her toe to push back one sleeve and expose the man’s forearm. “See that?”

It was impossible to miss. “A labor-camp mark.”

“How many citizens who spent time in a labor camp are going to have anything to do with snakes?”

He didn’t have any answer to that.

Colonel Malin had been extremely upset when he returned to headquarters, making up for his absence when Drakon was attacked with a whirlwind of activity. “The police have hauled in every known associate of the two dead men,” he told Drakon. They were in a secure conference room, along with Morgan.

Malin brought up an image on the display, showing every shot fired during the engagement. “From an analysis of the firing patterns, they initially aimed for your guards, General, then, after the first volley, shifted their attack to you and Colonel Morgan. That split in their targeting is what kept you from being hit, sir. For the first several seconds, only half the available weapons were firing at you.”

Drakon glared at the image, then at Malin. “Colonel Morgan drew their fire deliberately.”

“Yes, sir,” Malin agreed, while Morgan smirked at him. “But there were a lot of shots being aimed at her before she did that, almost as many as were fired at you.”

The implications of that were pretty obvious. “Colonel Morgan was a primary target, too? Why?”

“I believe, sir, that the attackers targeted her in error.”

Morgan, leaning back in her seat with one foot on the table, her leg extended in a way guaranteed to draw the eye, grinned. “You’re just jealous.”

“Not at all,” Malin said. “I’m certain they thought you were someone else.”

“Who else could she have been?” Drakon demanded.

“It was widely known that you met the new Alliance liaison officer on the main orbiting facility, and that she left in company with you and President Iceni. President Iceni’s shuttle landed, and she was seen leaving it alone. Your shuttle landed in a secure area, but one visible to long-distance snooping that would have identified a woman leaving the shuttle with you.”

“They thought I was walking Captain Bradamont around? Morgan doesn’t look anything like Bradamont.”

Malin gestured toward Morgan. “A wig, a uniform change, some other cosmetics, and their physical builds are close enough that an observer could conclude that the Alliance officer was the one accompanying you.”

“They thought I was that Alliance bitch?” Morgan asked. “Now I’m insulted.”

“Colonel Morgan…” Drakon began.

“Pardon me, sir,” Morgan replied. “I will endeavor to avoid using such language about our new friend and ally in the future.”

“We have IDs on the individuals Colonel Morgan took out,” Malin continued, bending his head briefly in Morgan’s direction. “They both belong to an extreme group called The People’s Word, which wants immediate, full democracy.”

Drakon scowled at that. “They want to elect all their leaders now?”

“No, sir. They don’t want any leaders. They want all decisions to be made by direct vote.”

Morgan’s laughter echoed scornfully from the walls. “Oh, yeah, that’ll work.”

“For once, I agree with Colonel Morgan,” Malin said. “However, the attackers’ affiliation with The People’s Word raises a big question. Their philosophy could explain their attack on you, General. It does not explain why they would target an Alliance officer.”

“They’d want that Alliance presence here, wouldn’t they?” Drakon asked, rubbing his chin.

“At the very least, they would regard her as sympathetic to their own agenda,” Malin agreed.

Morgan was pretending to examine her knife, testing the edge. “Where did these People’s Weird guys get the weapons they used to try to kill us?”

“You think there was a deal?” Drakon asked.

“Yes, sir.” Morgan balanced her knife, its point on her forefinger tip. “Somebody offered them the weapons to kill you in return for their agreeing to also take out the Alliance… woman.”

“That could be so,” Malin agreed.

“Or,” Morgan continued, “they planned to take out the woman in addition to you to make it look like an anti-Alliance hit that just happened to take you in as well.”

Malin glanced at Drakon. “Sir, I think we do have to assume you were both targets until we learn more.”

“Where were you, anyway?” Morgan asked, flipping her knife in one hand and catching it by the hilt.

“I was running down leads about the snakes, per General Drakon’s orders.”

Drakon nodded. “I knew where he was. Colonel Malin is not a suspect.”

“What about our President and her hatchet man Togo?”

“I don’t believe that President Iceni was involved,” Drakon said.

“With all due respect, sir,” Morgan said, “ don’t believe isn’t the same as knowing.”

“I’m aware of that.” He must have made that statement with extra force because Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. “Colonel Malin, I want you to check on any possible connection between the President’s staff and the attempt to kill Colonel Morgan and me.”

“General?” Morgan said, her tone playful again. “What if they targeted you and me knowing it was me? Who would want to do that?” She smiled at Malin.

“Do you have any proof?” Drakon said.

“Not yet.”

“Nothing happens to anyone until you get proof, show me the proof, and get clear, unequivocal orders about what to do. Is that clear, Colonel Morgan?”

“Yes, sir.” She sat up, her eyes still on Malin, the knife now unmoving in her hand. “I’ll get proof.”

Iceni watched Captain Bradamont enter the room and stand before the long table behind which she and Drakon sat. Bradamont was on unfamiliar terrain, but she looked and acted as if she were in the most well-known and secure of environments. She is a dangerous woman. Is that all the code name Mantis referred to, or is there more that I haven’t seen yet? “Kommodor Marphissa has proposed that we undertake a long and hazardous mission. She said she did so on the basis of your information and recommendations,” Iceni said.