Уильям Дитц - Seek and Destroy

So she’d refused to obey Fitch’s orders, and now, after what seemed like a lifetime, that decision had come back to haunt her. Would her story get her off? Hell, no. The people Wilkins worked for didn’t care what her perceptions of Fitch were. The only thing they cared about was the answer to a simple question: Did you, or did you not, disobey a direct order? Mac felt a sudden emptiness at the pit of her stomach. “What happens next?”

“Pack your gear,” Wilkins instructed. “ All of it. We’re going to Fort Knox. That’s where the court-martial will be held. It’s going to take a while.”

Mac swallowed. “Court-martial?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Granger cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Robin… But there’s nothing I can do. You are hereby relieved of duty pending the outcome of the trial.”

Mac stood. She felt light-headed. “Are you going to cuff me?”

Wilkins eyed her. “Do I need to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

Mac left the Conex with Wilkins in tow. Dark clouds were moving in from the north, and the air felt chilly. Suddenly, in less than half an hour, Mac’s world had been turned upside down. The future was bleak.

JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI

The Metrocenter Mall was filled with Saturday-morning shoppers. And why not? The war was a barely felt presence in the city of Jackson. Because of all the military spending, everybody who wanted a job had one—plus the air inside was cleaner than the stuff outside. And because the mall was the closest thing to neutral territory available, Victoria and resistance fighter Nathan Hale had agreed to meet at the mall.

Their first meeting, which had taken place electronically, had been an unmitigated disaster for Victoria. Instead of gathering more information about the anti-Confederate assassin called the Butcher and capturing Hale, she had come away with nothing.

Now, after apologizing to Hale via e-mail and days of groveling, he’d agreed to meet with her again. And in person. Rather than try to grab Hale, Victoria had decided to play it straight. The first priority was to obtain intel regarding the Butcher. Then, once El Carnicero was neutralized, she would find a way to smoke Hale.

Meanwhile, just in case Hale was planning to double-cross her , Sergeant Cora Tarvin and Private Roy Post were providing security. Victoria scanned her surroundings but couldn’t spot the operatives. And that was good. Because if she couldn’t see them, Hale’s people couldn’t either.

The Fountain Restaurant had indoor and outdoor seating. By prior agreement, the meeting was to take place outside, where the noise generated by the small fountain would make it difficult for other diners to listen in.

As Victoria neared the restaurant, she saw that roughly half of the outside tables were taken. Hale was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t surprising since she was five minutes early. Victoria went inside, requested a table near the fountain, and followed a girl out to a linen-covered table. After taking a seat, she began to eye the pretentious menu. It was heavy and loaded with items that would make her heavy, too. “May I join you?”

Victoria looked up to see that the fashionably dressed woman who’d been seated a few feet away was standing next to her table. She was about to say “No,” and realized her mistake. “Mrs. Hale, I presume?”

Hale laughed and took the other chair. Now Victoria could see through the makeup even though it was quite convincing. Hale smiled. “That’s right, honey… This isn’t the first time I’ve dressed as a woman. And one girl to another, I love your cropped jacket! It’s just enough to kick the outfit up a notch and hide a shoulder holster.”

Victoria couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.” And it was true. He’d been wearing a mask the last time she’d seen him. Now he was wearing a wig, pink lip gloss, and enough foundation to hide his beard. The disguise, plus some carefully chosen clothing, created a convincing picture. Was Tarvin snapping photos of him with a long lens? She’d better be.

After a waiter arrived, and their orders were placed, the maneuvering began. During the first meeting, Victoria had guessed, correctly as it turned out, that El Carnicero had been a member of the Union Underground before going rogue. Now the resistance fighters wanted him dead. So much so that they were willing to conspire with the Confederacy to get the job done.

But there was a limit on how cooperative Hale could be without revealing the sort of information that would help Victoria attack his organization. That’s what Hale claimed. But by the time lunch had been served, Victoria was beginning to get suspicious. Nothing had been accomplished up to that point—and Hale was too relaxed for someone with a lot at stake. Why?

Victoria was about to bail out when Hale opened his purse and removed a sheet of paper. He pushed it across the table. “There you go,” he said. “Now you have the Butcher’s real name, his last-known address, and a personality profile.”

The paper was folded into thirds. And when Victoria opened it, she saw that the page was blank! What the? Victoria looked up and was reaching for her pistol, when Hale shot her in the stomach. He was holding the Taser low, under the tabletop, where it couldn’t be seen.

Victoria felt the dart-like electrodes penetrate her clothing. That sensation was followed by something similar to a bee sting—and an electronic shock so strong that she lost control of her musculature. She jerked, slumped to one side of the chair, and was hanging there as Hale stood. “Bye, hon,” he said. “Sorry to eat and run.” Then he was gone.

Victoria’s body had been immobilized, and although her brain was foggy, it remained functional. She’d been suckered. Again. What was Hale trying to accomplish? Then it came to her. The resistance fighter knew that Victoria would have backup, and he hoped to draw them out so his operators could kill them. Then, as Victoria struggled to stand, they would nail her as well. And bingo… Not only would Hale have eliminated one of the Confederacy’s hunter-killer teams, but General Bo Macintyre’s daughter would be dead! A psychological as well as a physical blow.

All of that and more flashed through Victoria’s mind as she heard a gunshot! Post! Or Tarvin! One of them had seen Victoria slump over and rushed to the rescue. And that was the sniper’s signal to fire.

“No!” What was supposed to be a shout emerged as a croak. Victoria battled to stand, failed, and heard a second report. People were screaming by then—and a good Samaritan appeared at her side. “Can you breathe?” he wanted to know. “I called 911.”

As he leaned in to hear her reply, a bullet hit him in the head. The bang was like an afterthought. Victoria felt something warm splatter her face as the man collapsed on top of her. The chair went over, and both of them hit the floor.

Victoria’s muscles were starting to respond by that time and she struggled to roll free. Once on her knees, she stood. Only then did Victoria realize how stupid the move was. A follow-up shot would put her down for good! None came.

Victoria used a napkin to wipe some of the blood off her face as she staggered out into the mall. People were running every which way as police flooded the area. Someone called for a medic as Victoria knelt next to Tarvin’s body. They hadn’t been friends. Both of them knew better than to let that happen. But they’d been in some tight spots together, and Victoria would miss the noncom. “Don’t worry,” Victoria told the body, as an EMT arrived. “I’ll find the bastard. And he’s going to die.”