The Phoenix Crisis (25 page)

“
Oh, nothing,” said Calvin.
He put in an order for the military police officer to be taken into
custody and brought in for questioning. If nothing else, he should
be able to give Calvin the names of his superiors. He could also
reveal where he’d taken Rafael after the arrest, and once Calvin
knew where that place was, he’d tear it apart looking for
clues.

Calvin didn’t want to depend
solely on this lead, however. So he put out a general order in the
name of the King, Office of the Executor, to all low-level members
of Intel Wing—he was sure Phoenix Ring couldn’t possibly have
recruited
all
of
them. He sent descriptions and photos of the three people who’d
been arrested—including Rafael but not drawing extra attention to
him—and ordered anyone with knowledge of their whereabouts to
report immediately. Failure to do so would be considered a
treasonous act.

“
We about done here?” asked
Nikolai. He normally didn’t complain but Calvin knew him well
enough by now to understand that the large man preferred to be in
the thick of the action rather than watching someone read computer
screens.

“
Not yet,” said Calvin.
“There is one more thing that will not wait.” He’d been thinking
about Anand lately, wishing to have his best friend again. Wishing
he was there at his side, the same person he used to be. Adding his
insight and intelligence to Calvin’s and encouraging him every step
of the way. Sharing in the struggles and frustrations. Anand’s
friendship had meant everything to Calvin back when they were
students at Camdale, and for the brief period they’d served
together on the Nighthawk it had been like old times. But now Anand
was gone. And somehow, for some reason, Anand hated Calvin. Blamed
him for the loss of his family. He’d most recently tried to kill
Calvin and everyone aboard the Nighthawk back at Remus System. And
very nearly succeeded. Calvin intended to find out
why
. Could it be his
friend had been replaced by a replicant? He hoped so. That was
certainly an easier thing to face than the possibility that his
friend truly did hate him, and had sincerely tried to kill
him.

Calvin dug and dug. Spent over an hour
pulling up documents, police reports, and anything he could get his
hands on. Fortunately he knew the Datar family well—when he’d been
around them they’d treated him like a second son. He knew their
situation and their aliases, so even though they were mostly off
the radar, Calvin knew where to find information about them.
Unfortunately news wasn’t good.

“
Good god,” Calvin said as
he scanned through the morbid details, disgust and curiosity
rising.

“
What is it?” asked Nikolai.
“Did you find something?”

“
You could say that…” From
what he could tell, the Datar family—except for Anand—had all been
killed. They’d illegally immigrated to Capital World many years
ago—which Calvin knew and had helped to keep secret—but apparently
an official named Calvin Cross outed them to the police. And when
police arrived to take them into custody, they resisted arrest and
were slain in the altercation. Apparently
he
had been the one to blow the
Datars’ cover, even though he was light-years away when it’d
happened. “Nothing subtle about this,” he whispered to himself.
They’d framed him. Framed him and fooled Anand into believing it.
Although Calvin couldn’t be sure exactly who was behind it, or why;
his gut told him it was the Phoenix Ring who was
responsible.

It was no accident the
family was killed, Calvin was sure. But it was still strange, and
quite surreal to read the details in black and white. It wasn’t
like the Datars to resist arrest or try to physically fight
authority. They might do something that was legally grey, out of
necessity, but physically they’d never hurt a fly, less yet get
into a gun battle with police like the reports claimed. No doubt
this was merely the cover for what was probably a very sick and
dark execution.
Damn them. Damn them
all…

From the reports, Calvin was able to get the
identity of the two policemen who’d gone to arrest the Datar family
and ended up killing them. Michael Evans and Samantha Salas. They
would answer for this, he promised himself, and he would make them
lead him to those behind it all. The conspiracy was vast and deep,
but its days were numbered. Calvin vowed that the Datar family
would have justice.

He looked into Michael Evans and Samantha
Salas more and discovered that Samantha had moved off-world. There
was no record of where she’d gone. Apparently she’d chartered
private transport and did not submit a flight-plan, despite
regulations requiring that she do so. Chartering private transport
was not cheap, certainly outside the salary of an Imperial police
officer, so Calvin pulled Samantha’s financial information. Like
he’d expected, he found that a large deposit had been made into her
three accounts. Someone had made a small effort to disguise the
bribe, but it was fairly obvious to the trained eye, and the day it
had been deposited was the same day she and Michael had gone to
arrest the Datars. Calvin cross-checked Samantha’s financial
information with Michael’s and found that he’d been paid the same
day in the same amount. On the surface the sums looked different,
and the payout scheme was not the same—an effort had been made to
disguise the bribe—but the amounts were the same in total. And paid
out during the same day, both from anonymous sources. Now the
question was, who would bribe two police officers to murder a
civilian family and cover it up?

Normally an investigation
into an incident like this would still be ongoing, and Samantha
shouldn’t have been able to jump planet, but someone had closed the
book on it and ruled the officers’ lethal actions as
lawful self-defense
.

Calvin was glad to see that while Samantha
had jumped planet, Michael Evans was still around on Capital World.
He gave the order for him to be brought in for questioning.

Michael Evans, you will tell me
everything.

***

“
They took the Archives,”
said Celeste Ortega-Gasset. He looked at her pretty face on the
monitor in one of the private rooms in his estate.

“
I know,” he said calmly.
The moment the Executor’s people had stormed the three separate
facilities, Zane had been told. It wasn’t a move he’d anticipated,
much bolder than he’d expected from Calvin Cross, but it wasn’t
exactly a damning blow either. His people were in place when it
went down, and they’d been vigilantly aware that such a thing might
someday happen. Zane had given them protocols. And, from what he
could tell, the truly important data had been purged in time. His
people had managed to hold Facility Adalia long enough. Of course
there were still breadcrumbs, a small thin trail that might
eventually lead the Executor’s investigation here, to the Martel
Estate, and other places. But Zane doubted they would be able to
piece together what was happening in time. There were already
forces in motion, forces stronger than the Executor’s wildest
dreams, and the storm that was coming would not be
stopped.

“
You aren’t worried?” asked
Celeste. “What about Donovan and the others?”

“
Rita Donovan and the rest
of those cowards are not to know anything about it. All they would
do is panic, and panic is the last think we need,” said Zane.
“Trust me when I say that everything is completely under
control.”

“
I trust you,” said Celeste.
“But there is more news.”

He perked up. Celeste was one of his best
informers so he never ignored anything she had to say. “Go on.”

“
The Executor has put out
arrest orders for certain people. He intends to question them.
Already his people are looking for them, and they will be found
soon.”

“
People we know?”

“
Yes. A Military Police
Officer named Merrill O’Reilly.”

Zane smiled. Just a name. Not a real man. An
identity that had been used to lend credibility to the arrest of
Rafael Te Santos and two other prisoners—they’d since been deemed
worthless and killed. Rafael was making swift strides down that
same path. “Merrill O’Reilly is no threat to us.”

“
What about Michael Evans
and Samantha Salas?”

Again Zane smirked. “Those two are long
gone. Mister Cross will have trouble finding them.”

“
Samantha Salas left the
planet weeks ago, like you said. But Evans remains.”

“
What
?” asked Zane. As a condition of the bribe, Zane’s people had
given both Salas and Evans explicit instructions to leave the
system.

“
He is still here. His
address isn’t current; he moved. But I tracked him down in less
than two hours. That means the Executor’s people will be able to
find him. And when they do they’ll bring him in and he’ll start
talking. He’ll spill everything.”

Not
everything
, Zane thought. He made sure to
limit the knowledge his pawns had to a need-to-know basis, but
certainly this idiot Michael Evans—who’d proven too big a fool to
leave the planet as instructed—would give the Executor more
information than Zane would like. And, in a worst case scenario,
those who’d bribed Evans might be able to link the bribe to MXR, if
Evans identified the people who’d contacted him. And if MXR was in
the Executor’s crosshairs, that meant Zane was too. And the whole
Martel family.

“
I think you should take
care of this, before it becomes a problem,” said
Celeste.

“
Don’t worry, I will,” he
said. He deactivated the call and the screen winked off. He shook
his head, thinking perhaps he’d underestimated the new Executor of
the Empire.

There was only one way to deal with this.
Blackmoth. No loose ends.

Chapter 17

“
We’ll be dropping out of
alteredspace in ten minutes, Commander.” The voice of Jay Cox
filtered over the speakers. Summers reached over and tapped the
comm switch.

“
Thank you, Mister Cox.” She
stood up from the chair in her quarters and brushed smooth her
uniform, thinking that since she’d taken command of the vessel,
discipline had indeed improved. She left and headed for the
elevator. There wasn’t time now, but she’d originally intended to
go visit the infirmary after she’d rested up, ever since the chief
physician had informed her that Iwate Shen had nearly been lost.
The former White Shift ops officer was currently stable but Summers
knew it was only a matter of time before she’d be paying her
respects. Pity too. Iwate Shen had proven to be one of the most
resourceful people on the ship. The chief physician was more
optimistic, but that red-haired firecracker was optimistic about
everything. And Summers knew no amount of hope changed the facts.
If it did, her life, and this ship, would be very
different.

The Nighthawk was stealthed
and silently carving its way through Polarian space. On course for
Titan Three, just like Calvin had ordered. Summers used the
elevator ride from deck four to the bridge to mentally review what
Calvin had told her. The informant he’d talked to on the cantons of
Tybur–the one who’d happened to also be his estranged father—had
told him that the isotome weapons had been manufactured at Titan
Three. And that a human woman who was involved in the Phoenix Ring
was also the one overseeing the process of converting the unstable
isotome into the deadly, star-destroying weapons that now plagued
the galaxy. Calvin hadn’t been sure what they’d find there—and his
father apparently hadn’t told him—but Calvin had asked Summers to
go there all the same. And gather whatever intelligence she could
before the Phoenix Ring, or the Rahajiim, or the
Polarians—
or whoever
—had time to bury the evidence. And, true to her word, Summers
had come as quickly as she could. Taxing the beat-up Nighthawk for
all it was worth.

The elevator door slid open and she stepped
out onto the bridge.

“
Captain on the bridge,”
said Jay from the helm.

Miles spun the command chair to face her. He
was slouched in the command position with what appeared to be a can
of beer in his right hand, he raised it when he saw her. “I kept
her going safe and sound in your absence,” he smiled.

“
What the hell is going on
here?” asked Summers. Her eyes combed the room and she noticed
there were beer cans by all of the officers. Some were open. And
some were even empty! With every indication that they’d been drunk
by officers on duty! Even Midshipman Ford, the newly appointed
defense officer, had a spent beer can at his side. Only Cassidy at
ops seemed to have abstained from the shenanigans, though an
untouched beer can sat awkwardly next to her.

“
ETA six minutes,” said
Jay.

“
I want an answer to my
question,” said Summers. She looked at each of them in turn.
“
Now
.”

“
Morale has been shaky,
especially with Calvin gone, so…as the XO,” said Miles, “I
instituted the first of many programs I plan to implement to get
everyone back in good spirits. I call this one, Beer on the
Bridge!” He flashed Summers a big, toothy smile. It was
disgusting.

“
You,” she pointed at him.
“Take this refuse,” she glanced at all the trash and the alcohol.
“And get out.”