Jack Campbell - Perilous Shield

“An overdose? Before questioning began? How very convenient for someone. Who knew that questioning of those personnel was to be conducted?”

“General Drakon’s office was notified twenty minutes before our team arrived at the armory,” Togo said.

“Twenty minutes? Who gave that much warning of an interrogation raid?” Iceni demanded. “Do I have to personally supervise the carrying out of even the most basic security actions?”

“The interrogation personnel were delayed by a breakdown of their vehicle,” Togo said without emotion. “I accept full responsibility for the failure.”

“That won’t bring back that supply sergeant and whatever he knew.” Iceni sat back, rubbing her mouth with one hand as she thought. “But he might not have known anything. I have experience in the mobile forces, remember. Even with the tightest controls, it is possible to acquire the small amount of explosives used in that bomb by legitimate means. All you have to do is draw some for training or for demonstration purposes and draw a bit more than you really need.”

The sub-CEO who had taught her such tools for dealing with rivals had been a charming man who had appointed himself her mentor, seeking to bed Iceni through guile rather than coercion. He might eventually have succeeded in that if his wife hadn’t blown him and his bed to bits over yet another woman. In the end, he had taught Gwen a few more lessons than he had intended.

“The fact remains, Madam President,” Togo persisted, “that the explosives have been traced to the command of Colonel Rogero, who is a loyal follower of General Drakon.”

“And that doesn’t make you suspicious?” Iceni said, letting ice form on her words. “Neither of those men is stupid.” Though you wouldn’t know it from Drakon’s oblivious behavior in personal matters. “Draw the explosives from a source directly traceable to them? Even the lowest level subexecutive knows better than to point such an accusing finger at themselves.”

“Perhaps that was the goal,” Togo suggested after a pause. “They know you would regard such a move as hopelessly amateurish, so by pointing the evidence so clearly toward themselves, they would convince you that they were not involved.”

Iceni laughed scornfully. “That’s the sort of thing that happens in bad novels. Drakon is a successful commander. He knows how foolish it is to base your plans on the assumption that your opponent will act exactly as you wish, and the more convoluted your wishes, the less likely it is that your opponent will take the steps you desire. What can you tell me about the trigger for the bomb?”

“It was as I said, Madam President. Tuned to your biometrics and focused on the chair behind the desk.”

She sat forward, eyes intent on Togo. “Then how did you detect its presence from the door?”

Togo didn’t hesitate. “There was a wave-guide leak. A pinhole that allowed some signal strength to emanate back and to the side.”

“I see. How fortunate. Are there any leads yet as to who set up the attack on General Drakon and whether or not the Alliance officer was also a target?”

“No, Madam President. Most of the members of The People’s Word have proven to be unaware of the actions by their most radical associates. Others have disappeared though remains linked to several indicate they might have been victims of suicide belts that exploded. Three were found dead from the actions of injected nanos.”

“The same type of nanos that killed the one captured by Colonel Morgan?”

Togo visibly tensed at Morgan’s name, but his voice remained unemotional. “Yes, Madam President.”

“I expect better results, on both issues, and I expect them soon. These internal threats have to be dealt with. We have enough to worry about with external threats.” Her eyes went back to her display, watching the shuttles rising to orbit and dropping back down to the surface.

“Madam President,” Togo said, “may I suggest that the assassination attempt aimed at General Drakon might have been staged? That his survival was because the attackers were told not to kill him?”

“Are you saying that Drakon himself set it up? That they did really want to kill the Alliance officer and only her?”

“It is possible. That officer had already worked with Kommodor Marphissa and might be perceived to be in your camp, and the close ties between you and Black Jack are widely known.”

“What does that— What if the attack were aimed only at Colonel Morgan?” We won’t discuss my personal life. But as for the rest, you opened this can of worms. Tell me where you think this part of it leads.

Togo paused for several seconds. “If that were the case, then, speaking solely in terms of your self-interest, Madam President, it is unfortunate that it did not succeed.”

Iceni almost smiled before she caught herself. “Let me know of anything else you find out as soon as you learn it.”

After Togo had left, she went back to gazing at the shuttles. Less than six days to set this up. The freighter should be pulling out of orbit within the next hour.

Her gaze shifted to the hypernet gate near the edge of the star system. Marphissa and the others were still on their way to Indras Star System. They wouldn’t pop out of the gate at Indras until after the matter of Haris’s flotilla was resolved, wouldn’t know until they got back whether or not the battleship Midway would still be here to receive the hoped-for thousands of crew members who had been formerly assigned to the Reserve Flotilla. That was assuming the Recovery Flotilla made it safely to Varandal, succeeded in convincing the Alliance authorities there to hand over the prisoners, then made it back to Midway Star System in one piece.

And someone, or some ones, here had either tried to separately kill her and General Drakon, or had tried to make it look like they were trying to kill the pair of them, or that she and Drakon were trying to kill each other.

“Madam President?” The call came over her routine comm channel. “The press crews have arrived for your statement supporting the low-level political-office elections. They may try to ask questions.”

Iceni sighed and keyed her reply. “That’s fine. Send them in, and tell them I will answer any questions that I deem appropriate.”

No matter how hard those questions were, they would surely be easier than the questions privately bedeviling her.

“I don’t like this,” Kapitan Stein complained, looking as unhappy as she sounded. Her heavy cruiser, one of two that were orbiting the gas giant in order to protect the battleship Midway and the orbiting dock where the battleship was moored, was within two light-seconds of where Gaiene was on that orbiting dock, so there was no noticeable delay in the conversation.

Colonel Conner Gaiene made a half-apologetic shrug, both palms facing upward in the eternal gesture meaning what can we do? “You’re only pretending to run away.”

“If we didn’t have orders from the President herself, Gryphon and Basilisk would stay near this facility and fight!”

Had he ever been as enthusiastic as this Kapitan Stein? It was hard to remember. Like many of the mobile forces officers, Stein was young for her rank, the more senior officers often having suffered varying but unfortunate fates when the star system revolted against the Syndicate. “Don’t go too far. We may need you to chase off the four Hunter-Killers with the battle cruiser.”

“We’ll do more than chase them off,” Stein promised. “Don’t let Kontos give you any lip,” she added.

“Now, Kapitan, I know Kapitan-Leytenant Kontos has been promoted quite rapidly, but haven’t we all?”