Текст книги "Coupe"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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19

New Avalon

Cruris March, Federated Suns

1 June 3029

 

The image of Primus Julian Tiepolo's face faded from the holo-vision screen as the last of his message played out. Hanse Davion, standing at the head of the briefing table, used a remote control to shut off the viewer. Each time I listen to that message, I get the feeling the Primus is a reluctant puppet. He jerks our strings, but who jerks his?

The Prince stared at the four other people gathered around him. "Comments?"

Field Marshal Yvonne Davion, seated farthest from the Prince on the right side of the table, looked angry enough to spit fire. "Of course we didn't hit the substation their holovid shows us destroying. The 'Mechs that hit it have all the right insignia and serial numbers to be with the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers, but that particular unit was engaged in burning down a forest at the time of the attack." The gray-haired woman looked at the others around the table. "I daresay that if we hadhit that substation, no holovid camera operator would have escaped the perimeter with that recording."

Hanse smiled genuinely, then glanced at Quintus Allard. "Why did they decide to interdict us?"

Davion's Intelligence Chief leaned back in his chair. "ComStar is a pacifistic organization. They may see a refusal to move our messages as an act of civil disobedience."

The woman next to Quintus, a Marshal with the Third Crucis

Lancers, shook her head in disagreement. "Were that their motivation, they would have interdicted the Lyran Commonwealth."

Quintus smiled easily. "Quite true, Marshal Pedroza. That makes me think it's something else. To your knowledge, have our advances interfered with ComStar business?"

Jessie Pedroza smiled like a child caught stealing a piece of candy. "In keeping with security measures agreed upon before the start of the invasion, one of our first acts is to cut off normal civilian communications. We've not destroyed any ComStar equipment, but we have cordoned off some ComStar stations, restricting access to people we know are not Liao agents."

The fourth person seated at the table, Colonel Nicholas Furth, nodded quickly. "We saw the same thing in the Terran corridor when Kurita hit our worlds. Civilian authorities were prevented from using ComStar facilities to relay messages to our incoming troops."

The Prince raised one foot to the seat of his chair and leaned forward with his elbow on that knee. "We shall assume, then, that this is ComStar's opening gambit in some game they want to play. They may believe that limiting us is a way to pour oil on troubled waters, but that matters not at all to us. We are without ComStar's services as of now."

The Prince pointed to a metallic black box sitting on the table in front of him. A third of a meter long and wide, but only half as high, it was featureless except for the numberpad on its surface and a slot extending from side to side. "Marshal Pedroza ... Colonel Furth, this is what we refer to as a Black Box, for rather obvious reasons. I cannot tell you exactly whatit is because I do not fully understand its workings myself, but it has been the source of the 'faxes' you've received from messengers over the course of the war. This device, and the roughly four dozen others in use in the Federated Suns, will circumvent the most bothersome consequence of the Interdiction."

Both military men peered closely at the machine. The Prince lifted it up so they could see the slot on the bottom into which paper was fed, then turned it around to show the various power and computer jacks built into it. "What I can tell you about these boxes, gentlemen, is that they enable us to send and receive messages between stars. Messages travel much more slowly than the hyperpulse communications sent out through ComStar, but we can actually beat them on shorter distances because ComStar often batches messages for transmission. That was an economical feature that impressed the Lyrans who first examined these boxes."

Jessie Pedroza looked up. "How fast do messages travel?"

The Prince frowned momentarily. "We've run clocked messages at roughly an hour per light year traveled. The biggest problem is that only simple data can be transmitted over this equipment. Text and crude graphics go out fine, but more complicated things like video or audio get garbled when sent."

The Prince drew in a deep breath. "Both of you have gotten the fax messages these machines transmit from our messengers. The messenger corps was set up by Quintus's MHO, but we're moving the boxes out of the shadows and into your headquarters. This device is still codeword top secret, but you'll have direct access to it now that the Interdiction has been called.

"It is imperative that these devices not be captured, and that no word of their existence leak out. ComStar would see it as a direct threat to their power, and this Interdiction suggests any reaction from them would be hostile. Quintus's people will set up security for your comcenters, but in the event a headquarters is ever overrun, you must see to it that the Black Box is destroyed."

The Prince smiled, and looked up at Quintus Allard. "What does the Interdiction do to our intelligence efforts?"

The white-haired Minister frowned. "It hurts us badly. Our active agents are known to ComStar because they've been using ComStar to deliver messages to us. That flow of information will stop immediately. We can activate sleeper agents by jumping ships into a system and beaming a broadcast at a planet, and possibly gather intelligence by monitoring public broadcasts in a similar manner, but things will be dicey. The Confederation is such a repressed society that the only information in the media is information Liao wants out."

Yvonne reached across the table and patted Quintus's right arm. "What about our people in the Maskirovka? Can they issue orders to agents in our holdings that will tip us about upcoming things?"

Quintus shrugged. "That is possible, and something I'd expect of our more inventive operatives. Right now, though, I think the best we can hope for is some rerouting of important information in the Liao sphere so Max can make mistakes. If anything big comes up, like Liao's decision to kill Ridzik earlier this year, I'm confident Alexi will find a way to get the information to us. We'll get some warning."

The Minister's frown deepened. "What has me most worried is how the Interdiction will affect our communication with the subversive elements we've been fostering in the Free Worlds League. Right now their activities are keeping Janos Marik all tied up, but their supplies are bound to run out soon. Without ComStar to transfer money through, we can't support them. If they evaporate, House Marik will be free to enter the war."

The scowl on Jessie Pedroza's face told Hanse the Marshal had no desire to fight the Free Worlds League, too. "Thoughts, Marshal Pedroza?"

Pedroza stroked her chin. "If House Marik throws forces in at the old Tikonov-Sarna border, we could be in trouble. We've pacified those worlds, which means we've only garrisoned them with militia troops. In fact, on some planets, we're relying heavily on private minority militias to keep order. The Free Worlders could make some headway, which means I would have to pull line troops off the drive into that region. We'd lose the advantage we gained by not having to defend against Ridzik's troops because of our deal with him. Hell, he might even get greedy and liberate the half of Tikonov we've occupied to save it from House Marik."

Yvonne sat back, grinning broadly and her eyes sparkling with unholy lights. "If you please, my Prince, couldn't we urge Ridzik to lop off a chunk of the Free Worlds League to forge that link between the Lyran Commonwealth and the Federated Suns we'd discussed early on in the invasion? That would give him something to do with his troops, and it would give the Free Worlders someone to hate. If things went well, they might even kill him for us."

Hanse joined the general chuckling as the group considered her idea. Very good, Yvonne. Whoever said, "Just because there's snow on the roof doesn't mean a fire isn't burning in the cabin," must have had you in mind. You and Quintus.

"An excellent idea, Yvonne. My congratulations. Communicate the idea and some basic plans to Ardan Sortek immediately. I'm certain he'll enjoy passing them on to Pavel Ridzik." The Prince's remark triggered another round of chuckling as everyone assembled remembered the earlier holovid in which Ardan Sortek had expressed his true feelings for the ex-Liaoist Colonel, calling him "the Littlest Tsar."

Yvonne nodded curtly. "I'll send it out over the command circuit we've established to Tikonov immediately." A frown creased her brow for a moment, then she fixed Hanse with a steady stare. "I do think we should go ahead and requisition the JumpShips we have on reserve status. It will be clumsy, but it's important to establish and maintain communications between our soldiers and their families. It will be important for morale."

Hanse looked down as he considered the proposal. If I strip more JumpShips from the commercial sector, trade will slow down. We can probably maintain traffic in essentials, but shipments of luxury goods will have to be cut back. Some people will hate that, but I suppose they'd hate not hearing from their loved ones more. The former will breed discontent, but the latter would create fear and resentment.

The Prince brought his head up. "Quintus?"

The spymaster licked his lips. "I can have a report about a minimal maintenance network on your desk in twelve hours. We can move everything but exotics with this network, assuming the Kathil shipyards keep ships running and out of drydocks on schedule. I can have my people coordinate with Yvonne's subordinates to create a system that might allow some commercial movement of military correspondence, just to speed things up."

Marshal Pedroza cleared her throat. "I'd like to add that I support the Field Marshal's suggestion. Our warriors are living and dying at mail calls. On more than one occasion, I've had whole battalions volunteer for duty ferrying mail from a landing zone to the front."

"Very well," the Prince said. "Yvonne, get your people together with Quintus's and work this network out." He looked at his Intelligence Minister. "Tell the people in Ways and Means that if there's room for anything more than the basic necessities in the shipping schedule, priority goes to the lowest-priced luxury items—with emphasis on entertainment products, clothes, cosmetics, and other things people buy to make themselves happy. I don't want oneAvanti air car coming in when something for plentyof people could be shipped instead."

Quintus grinned broadly. "As you direct, my Prince."

Now the most difficult part of this meeting.The Prince regarded both of the men nearest him. "You have heard, of course, of the disastrous assault made by the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers on Sarna. It's true they landed on a position defended by McCarron's Armored Cavalry. The Fusiliers had not expected opposition, and as a result, got sliced up badly. As you have also heard, McCarron captured General Gordon Hartstone and I have refused to ransom him."

The Prince watched both men for reactions, but they kept them well hidden. "The Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers presented a problem for me, gentlemen. I had evidence implicating their general staff in a treasonous plot directed against me. I had hoped, after Michael Hasek-Davion's death, that all three of the Fusilier RCTs would return to the fold, as it were. But the Fifth did not mend its ways.

General Hartstone demanded—not requested, demanded—a combat assignment that would avenge the Duke."

The Prince narrowed his ice-blue eyes. "I learned of a move within the Capellan March to support making Hartstone a warlord of sorts. Disguised as a patriotic movement within the March, it was nothing short of treason. I could not discharge the Fusiliers' leader because he would have bolted and taken most of his unit with him. Having no other reasonable choice, I gave him the combat assignment he wanted."

The Prince gestured at Quintus Allard. "We learned, after the JumpShips had headed out for Sarna, that McCarron's Armored Cavalry was on Sarna. Had Hartstone followed our original assault plan, we could have prevented the bloodbath. But Hartstone was looking too far ahead, imagining his glorious return to the Capellan March, and had boosted his DropShips in at 2.5Gs. That meant he arrived a full two days ahead of the mercenary regiments accompanying him."

Hanse Davion sighed heavily. "Their lead gave McCarron's Armored Cavalry two days to play with them. McCarron's people were dug in and threw everything they had at the Fusiliers. We recovered less than a battalion of 'Mechs, and only half of them operational. Losses of armor and infantry were even worse. For all intents and purposes, the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers no long exists."

Silence settled over the meeting as the extent of carnage that could destroy a full Regimental Combat Team overwhelmed everyone in the room. Hanse felt anger burn his insides. Damn you, Michael Hasek-Davion. Why did you force me to waste so many people? Was your hatred for me so deep? Was your dream of glory so blind?

The Prince's voice came flat and controlled despite his internal rage. "Understand me, gentlemen, and make sure all the officers in your commands understand me. I cannot afford to have the Federated Suns divided against itself. There will be glory enough for all of us when this war is over. For now, we must stand together, or our enemies will exploit our weaknesses to pull us apart. With the Interdiction, we're half-blind, but we're not finished unless more people contemplate treason."

Hanse Davion leaned forward, letting his voice drop to a chilling whisper. "In short, gentlemen, I will reward those who serve me well, and discard those who work against me. We fight for the Federated Suns, and anyone who decides to work for himself should take a lesson from the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers."

20

Ryde

Virginia Shire, Lyran Commonwealth

6 June 3029

 

Leutnant Joachim Rhinestag swallowed hard as he keyed his radio mike and stared out from the massive gray dolmen. Why me? Why do I always get the assignments that go to hell?"Eagle One to Eagle's Nest."

A bored female voice replied to his signal slowly. "Go ahead, Eagle One. What have you got, Joachim?"

Joachim drew in a deep breath and fought against the nervousness tying his stomach into knots. "I found the place where those two Overlordswent to ground. I've got a reinforced company of Kurita 'Mechs about five hundred meters north of my current position. They look like mediums and heavies, with an Orionand two Maraudersbeing the top of the line for them. The unit insignia is a black tidal wave within a circle. The wave has stars and a little boat about to be smashed beneath its crest."

A new voice, one full of false courage, cut in on the frequency. "Eagle One, this is Komandant Wyler. What are your coordinates? We will send the militia out to deal with them."

Joachim's heart leaped to his throat. "No, sir. I mean, negative, Eagle's Nest." Joachim sneaked another peek at the nearly fifty 'Mechs moving round on the rubble-strewn plain below his position. "Sir, our militia would be eaten alive down there." He hesitated and swallowed hard. "I don't think they want trouble, sir."

"What! You're telling me a Kurita 'Mech company lands on

Ryde and doesn't want trouble? Have you been hit on the head, boy?"

Oh, God, now the Komandant thinks . .. Damn! I'm in deep trouble now."Look, Komandant, they're out on Hanover Flats just moving rocks around."

Utter disbelief strung the Komandant's words together. "Moving rocks around? Are they creating a fortification?" The unspoken question in the Komandant's reply was "why?" Being a young planet, Ryde was prone to earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, which made construction a very fine art. Haphazard projects always came tumbling down.

Joachim passed his left hand over his mouth, wiping away the sweat on his upper lip. "No sir, not a fortification. I think they're building a replica of the battlefield on Mallory's World where the Kell Hounds and the Second Sword of Light fought thirteen years ago."

"What? How the hell would you conclude that?"

Jesus, Joachim, don't blow it now."I read a book on that campaign, sir. Saw a map. From here, it looks the same. And ... and I've monitored some of their radio chatter. I heard the phrase 'Kieru inu.'That's Japanese for Kell Hound, sir. I got that from the book, too."

The Komandant's voice had gained an edge. "You read a book that's let you get into the mind of Kurita warriors. Is this what you want me to believe?" The Komandant paused for emphasis. "This from the junior officer who previously reported a mining site abandoned a century ago as a forward Kurita base?"

I'll never live that down!Joachim felt a bead of sweat course down his forehead and along his nose. "Sir, believe me, the weight of these 'Mechs is enough to destroy our militia a million times over. Were I asked, I'd devote myself to Civil Defense measures there in Heaven's Gate. They're minding their own business now, but if they wanted to take Ryde, you'd be telling me about them and not the other way around."

Joachim let the true depth of his fear flood his words, which seemed to have an effect on the Komandant. "Dammit, Rhine-stag, when you get to my position, I hope like hell you have a recruit like yourself in your command. Keep an eye on them and report back if the situation changes. Eagle's Nest out."

Joachim closed his eyes. Thank God."Roger, Eagle One out." The Steiner scout opened his eyes and looked up at the tall, bronze-haired Mech Warrior standing over him. "How was that?"

Akira Brahe nodded slowly and returned his pistol to the holster on his right hip. "You did well, Joachim." He glanced toward where the rest of the Genyoshalabored to transform the valley below into a replica of the Mallory's World battlefield where his father had last fought Morgan Kell.

"We will be finished soon, and you will be able to return to your home." Akira plucked a small holotape cassette from a pocket on his cooling vest. "Just before you leave, I will give you one of these with a message on it. When you get back to Heaven's Gate, you will give it over to ComStar for transmission to the Kell Hounds. You will not view it, nor turn it over to anyone else. Wakarimasu-ka?"

Joachim nodded.

Akira smiled. "Good. And don't look so dour, Leutnant Rhinestag. If you'd not been here to carry our message back, we would have had to raid Heaven's Gate. The citizens will never know it, but you saved their lives ..."

21

Tharkad

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

20 June 3029

 

Jeana forced a smile as she sat on the edge of her bed and watched Misha feed the holodisk into the viewer. "No, Misha. I don't mind previewing our next warvid release. I should, after all, know what we're telling our people." How can I tell you I've seen it twice already and nearly died both times when they showed Dan'sWolfhound getting hit?

Misha brushed her long black hair back from the collar of her red gown. "Ever since your mother mentioned my theories to Simon Johnson, he's had me previewing these newsreels to see what intelligence we let slip. I'd rather not watch it now, but he wants my 'imprimatur' on it before you and I head up to the Winter Palace for the week." She punched a button on the viewer's remote control, filling the room with a martial soundtrack before pictures actually appeared on the screen. "Johnson hopes he can show a copy of this to the officers from the Federated Suns when they meet with him and your mother this afternoon. I guess, from his urgency, they were not expected. With the Interdiction, all planning is probably going to hell. Anyway, Johnson's waiting for me to call with approval so he can pick it up on the way down to his meeting."

Jeana nodded woodenly as the commentator's deep voice replaced the fading music. "Combine troops landed on Lyons in force in a daring strike behind the front. They hoped their assault on an unprotected world would extinguish our will to fight, but they couldn't have been more wrong. They landed without opposition, but soon found themselves engaged in a battle to the death with the famous mercenaries, the Kell Hounds."

Battle footage, cut together from the sensor output of both Kell Hounds and captured Combine 'Mechs, flashed across the screen. Jeana and Misha watched as the red and black 'Mechs of the Kell Hounds regiment advanced through the smoking ruin of what had once been New Freedom. "Though the town has been swept clean of opposition, the Kell Hounds are still vigilant. The night before, however, the Combine Mech Warriors made the battle for this small outpost a thing of history."

Jeana stiffened as the exchange between Dan's Wolfhoundand the Kurita Clintfilled the screen. Autocannon slugs blasted a line of craters into the Wolfhound'schest while a medium laser slashed into the 'Mech's left thigh. The Wolfhoundreacted with the impact, then the scene shifted for a pilot's-eye view of Dan's crippling counterattack. "Outraged by the Kurita strike on this innocent village, Captain Daniel Allard fights back, regardless of the weight difference he surrenders to this enemy 'Mech."

Before the program could move on to Morgan's exchange with the Rifleman—the part Jeana hated most because of Dan's brush with disaster—a gentle knocking at the door saved her. "Yes?"

Misha killed the holovid as Melissa's chambermaid spoke through the door. "Highness, a Captain John Bailey of the Davion Light Guards has requested a word with you."

At the mention of Andrew Redburn's unit, Misha's face brightened. Jeana stood up and adjusted the silver belt on her navy blue jumpsuit. Misha smoothed the wrinkles in her long skirt, then both of them glanced at their reflections in the mirror and giggled.

Jeana moved to the door. "We'll see him in the parlor."

She waited long enough for her servant to usher the visitor into the parlor room of her suite. Allowing Misha to precede her into the rectangular room, she nodded to dismiss the maid. Extending her hand, Jeana crossed the white carpet to greet her guest. "Captain Bailey, I am glad to meet you."

The Davion Captain, resplendent in his maroon uniform, clicked together the heels of his cavalry boots and executed a respectful bow. He took her hand and kissed it lightly. "It is the honor of my life to meet you, Highness." Blue eyes flashed up from a handsome face, trying to communicate a message that Jeana could not fathom.

She withdrew her hand from his warm grasp and turned to introduce Misha. "This is my best friend, Misha Auburn."

The Captain smiled as he took Misha's hand. "The historian's daughter. The pleasure is all mine."

Something's not right here.Jeana saw a look of consternation flicker over Misha's face. What is it?

Misha smiled politely. "You must be newly assigned to the Light Guards, Captain."

Bailey frowned, his bushy black eyebrows furrowing into a sharp wedge. "I have been with the Guards for three years, Ms. Auburn."

Misha blinked twice, pointed to the campaign ribbons on his jacket's left breast. "Then why is it you don't wear the blue and green ribbon for the St. Andre strike?"

That's it!Even as Bailey covered his surprise with a pleasant grin, Jeana swept forward. She smashed her left knee into the soldier's groin, lifting him off the floor. She tangled her fingers in his curly black hair, and as he doubled over, she brought his head down to greet her knee as it rose again.

"Melissa!" Misha stared at her in horror.

Jeana ignored the outburst as she stripped the gun from the unconscious warrior. Good. Mauser and Gray M-27 needle pistol.She snapped the breech open and saw a virgin block of ballistic polymer in the chamber. Enough plastic there for a nice long battle.

Misha grabbed her shoulder. "Melissa, what are you doing? You're scaring me." Jeana looked up, then pointed to the man's boots. "No spurs.

He's not wearing any spurs ..."

Misha's mouth hung open. "He's not a MechWarrior from the Federated Suns ... I should have seen that..."

Jeana nodded curtly. "You didsee something. You noticed the campaign ribbons." I should have caught the heel click. We all learned it at Sanglamore because it pleased Duke Lestrade.Jeana tore the soldier's jacket open and pulled up his shirt. She shook her head.

Wrapped around his waist, the man wore a long, slender strip of green silk. She pointed to it for Misha's benefit. "Sanglamore Sash. The idiot wanted to pass as Davion, but he couldn't be without his sash." Jeana unknotted it and pulled it free. "Help me roll him over, and pull off his boots."

Misha moved slowly, as if in a trance, as she followed Jeana's orders. "Slangmore ... that means he's from Skye."

Jeana grimaced as she wrapped the sash around the man's throat, then used it to bind his wrists together. "And that means the other visitors from the Federated Suns are impostors as well, He was probably going to hold Melissa here as a hostage. The Duke must be trying to kill the Archon yet again."

Misha stood and walked toward the visiphone. "I'll call Simon Johnson."

"No!"

Jeana's command stopped Misha dead in her tracks. "Why not? Your mother is meeting with the fake envoy right now. She's in danger."

Jeana stood, hefting the pistol in her right hand. "If we set off an alarm, they'll kill her for sure. I would guess they're waiting for Johnson to show up so they can kill him, too. If he dies, Lyran security falls apart, making a coup very easy. Lestrade is playing to win this one." She looked up at Misha. "Where are they meeting?"

Misha shrugged. "Your mother's office, I assume."

"Dammit, that's no good. One way in, one way out."

Misha frowned. "What about the passageway behind the bookcase?"

Jeana's heart leaped to her throat. My briefings mentioned Melissa's knowledge of the secret passages in the palace, but we never had time for her to show me more than a few meters of any of them. Hell, she grew up here—as Misha did—I'd never know them as well as either one of them did. And Melissa said she'd forgotten most of what she knew."Misha, show me the way."

Misha grinned. "You know the way. You used to sneak in there all the time and listen to your tutors tell your mother what they thought of you."

Jeana hesitated, then added more authority to her voice. "Misha, this is no time for games. Show me the way."

Misha's face darkened. "You're acting strange, Melissa. Maybe all this is a figment of your imagination. I'm going to call Simon .. ."

Misha's voice faded as Jeana lifted the pistol and clicked the safety off. "You'll do no such thing. The Archon's life is at stake here, Misha, and I will kill you to save her."

Misha's expression changed from confusion to horror. "Melissa, you need help ..."

Jeana shook her head. God, she's terrified and I can't get her to help me. I have to tell her."Listen, Misha, I'm not Melissa. My name is Jeana Clay, and I am Melissa's double. She's off with Hanse Davion."

Misha stared at her, her brown eyes brimming with tears and utter disbelief. "No, that's impossible. I would have known."

Jeana stared at Misha intently. "Think, Misha, think. Don't go to pieces on me now. What is the most important factor in Melissa's marriage to Hanse Davion? What do they need to stabilize things?”

“I don't know."

"Think, Misha. Think about all the history you've learned from your father. Use your head. What do they need?"

Misha looked down as concentration drew her brows together. "An heir. A child would unite both nations."

Jeana smiled. "Dead on. The Archon needed Melissa here to prevent her opposition from saying she'd sold her daughter to Hanse Davion. Melissa needs to be with Hanse so they can conceive a child. I'm here so she can be in two places at one time." She lowered the gun. "Now, take me to the office and pray we're in time."

Misha crossed to the fireplace in the back corner of the room. She pushed her fingers into the mouth of an ornamental lion's-head carved from the marble mantelpiece and pressed down. Jeana heard a click, then the fireplace slid away from the wall. Behind it, a narrow opening revealed walls of rough bricks and mortar.

Misha looked at her. "You'll have to go ahead because there's no place where you can pass me. The corridor goes along the wall for five meters, then we hit a circular stairway that will take us down to the main level where the office is located. At the base of the stairs, keep to the left, take the second right and the first left after that. The bookcase is at the far end of the office, facing the Archon's desk. The catch is above the opening."

Jeana nodded and entered the dark tunnel. A musty odor hung in the air and small clouds of dust rose with each step. Jeana felt cobwebs brush against her face and hands during the trek. As she walked, she trailed the fingers of her left hand along the wall, letting the cold, rough texture anchor her in reality.

So many games, so many lies. When this is over, Misha will feel like such a fool for having been deceived by me. She’ll be offended that Melissa wouldn't trust her. Worse yet, she'll have to lie to her father and not reveal any of this to him.

She came to the spiral stairs and began her slow, careful descent. Fear fluttered through her stomach, but then died quickly. She found herself smiling almost the way she did back when her father was still alive. This is it, isn't it? This is what you felt when you went to defend Katrina Steiner so many years ago on Poulsbo, isn't it, father? This is how it feels to know that what you’re doing is right, no matter what the cost. . .

Jeana reached out again with her left hand to touch the wall when she stepped off the stairs. Remembering that she had to take the second right turn, she shifted the gun to her left hand. Her heart pounded in her ears as she moved along the pitch-black passage. At the turn, she shifted the gun back to her good hand, charged it, then stopped as she reached the office's secret entrance.