Iceni smiled, though the expression had more ferocity than humor to it. “How many times during the war with the Alliance was that the only contingency plan? More than I care to think about. But it’s true that if Midway had fallen to the enigmas, Kahiki would have been indefensible. The Syndicate would have had a lot of trouble doing anything to save or evacuate Kahiki even before Black Jack annihilated so many of the Syndicate’s mobile forces. All right. I am in favor of extending our protection to Kahiki, of inviting them to ally with us.”
Drakon sat hunched over slightly, his eyes looking off into the distance, then finally nodded. “I agree. But let’s keep the agreement secret for now, along with the fact that Kahiki has revolted. The longer it is before the Syndicate finds out, the longer it will be before they try to come up with a counterattack.”
“I’ll send a senior official to negotiate the deal. Something along the lines of what we agreed to with Taroa. Is that acceptable? Let me know which representative you want to send for the negotiations.”
Once again, Drakon spent a while thinking before answering. “Gwen, as long as the agreement is along the same framework as we used with Taroa, there’s no reason for me to insist on having someone looking over the shoulder of your representative.”
Iceni raised her eyebrows at him, surprised that Drakon had openly expressed that degree of trust in her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Togo reacting before he could cover it. Oddly enough, he had reacted at the start of Drakon’s statement, not at the end.
Togo had reacted when Drakon called her Gwen.
What had she seen in Togo in that brief, unguarded moment? Surprise? Worry? Anger? It was impossible to tell. “That is all,” she told Togo.
She waited until he had left, then pointed to Ulindi on the star display. “Have you heard anything more about that situation?”
“No,” Drakon said.
“Has… your agent… arrived there yet?”
“She should be getting there anytime now,” Drakon said. “But I don’t know exactly how she was planning on sneaking into Ulindi, so I don’t know exactly when she’ll be there.”
“You obviously still trust Colonel Morgan a great deal,” Iceni said, hearing the coldness entering her voice.
Drakon, judging from the grimace he made, heard it, too. “In certain matters, I still do. She’s very skilled at this sort of thing.”
“I have heard frequent references to her skills,” Iceni said, wondering if frost was forming on her words. “But in most cases only the vaguest references to where and how she acquired such skills.”
“I don’t know all of the particulars,” Drakon said, meeting her iciness with a steady gaze. “She had many of those skills when I first met her, so she gained them young. There are things none of us who grew up in the Syndicate system talk about. Colonel Morgan has her share of those.”
“Colonel Morgan has too many secrets.”
“We’re in agreement on that. I’m using her skills to help us with Ulindi. Don’t think that means I still trust her in other matters.”
After Drakon had left, Iceni scowled at the star display. It would simplify things immensely if Morgan died on Ulindi, no matter how that might complicate Drakon’s task. When it comes to double-dealing and death, I have no trouble believing that witch started learning her trade young. I wonder just how young she was.
Executive Fifth Class Roh Morgan, eighteen years old and recently promoted from Line Worker Fourth Class, leaned back and smiled at the man in the pilot’s seat. She slowly extended one leg toward Executive First Class Jonis, showing off not only the leg itself but also the boot she was wearing.
Jonis smiled, too, but at the boot, not at her. “Nice work, Roh.”
“I got everything you wanted,” Morgan said. “Her boots, some skin flakes, a few other subtle pieces of evidence to salt the crime scene.”
“Excellent.” Putting the aircraft on autopilot, he extended a hand toward Morgan. “The stealth gear.”
She straightened a bit, reaching into a large pocket in her vest, and brought out an assortment of bracelets, earrings, and rings. “This is the latest gear in the Internal Security Service’s inventory? You’d think the ISS would be prepared to spot its being used.”
“I told you they wouldn’t.” He held the hand out again, this time demandingly. “There’s always a slight lag between new stealth gear being introduced and defensive sensors being reprogrammed to spot signs of the new gear.”
Morgan dropped the jewelry into Jonis’s hand. “So it will be useless soon.”
“Not useless.” Jonis, at least two decades older than Morgan, took on the lecturing tone he enjoyed using with her. “It is still effective. But a smart agent never depends on equipment that can be detected or found, no matter how well disguised it is. If you get caught with gear of this nature, it’s very hard to claim you’re not guilty of something. The lessons I gave you on avoiding attention from my fellow agents are far more valuable in the long run than toys like this. And unlike technical devices, other methods to avoid being noticed don’t become obsolete or need upgrades.” He leered at her. “Once we finish planting this evidence, and Sub-CEO Tarranavi gets nailed for crimes against the Syndicate, I can give you a lot of other lessons of a more personal nature. You know, a lot of other men wouldn’t have waited until now for that kind of payoff in exchange for their… guidance.”
Morgan smiled. “You know the wait will be worth it.”
“Yes. I think it will.” He laughed again. “After that, as my protégé, you can do a lot of good service as an undercover agent for the ISS and earn the rewards that come with that.”
“It sounds like I’ll be getting lots of… rewards as your protégé,” Morgan purred. “Why do you hate Tarranavi so much? Why do you want her arrested?”
“Arrested? That’s the least of it. She’ll be executed for sure. But I don’t hate her. I don’t care about her at all. She’s in the way,” Jonis explained matter-of-factly. “I want her job, Tarranavi shows no signs of leaving it or making the kind of real mistake I could exploit, so I’m giving her a nudge off the edge of the cliff, so I can continue on my own way upward. Speaking of mistakes, it’s never a good idea to ask why you’re carrying out a mission. Just do it and let your bosses worry about the reasons.” He laughed as if he had just said something funny.
Morgan laughed, too. She had no trouble putting real amusement into the laugh despite the loathing that filled her as she looked at Jonis. She resisted glancing toward the control panel, knowing that any second now…
A warning light began blinking on the control console, accompanied by an urgent beeping tone. Startled, Executive Jonis turned his head to look at it.
Roh had already stiffened her hand. Her shoulder pivoted as her arm shot out and drove the hand with deadly accuracy into just the right spot on Jonis’s neck. His spine cracked, then his head slammed into the side of the cockpit under the force of the blow.
Sighing, Roh massaged her hand, smiling at the blank expression fixed on Jonis’s dead face. “Did you really think I was that young and naïve? That I didn’t know that after you’d had all the fun with me you wanted, you were going to kill me so I couldn’t betray you for setting up Tarranavi? Did you really believe that I wanted to be a snake like you, you scum? Did you forget I’d had commando training and knew how to kill with my bare hands? I guess you did, on all counts. Too bad for you.”