Gozen’s eyes went to the heavily armored limo, but she was smart enough not to make any comment about Iceni’s chosen mode of transportation. “I understand and will comply.”
“You’re on exceptionally good behavior today, aren’t you?” Iceni commented in a low voice as she walked past Gozen and into the building where the meeting would take place. There had been a time when she and Drakon would only meet at neutral locations, directly controlled by neither of them, but the time for those games had passed. Especially since the fortified structures that made up Drakon’s headquarters complex offered a comforting sense of security.
Everyone else was already in the conference room. Iceni noticed Gozen avoiding looking at Captain Bradamont, whose Alliance uniform had been a symbol of the enemy for a century, and tried again to get a rise out of her. “You’re not used to this sort of company, Colonel Gozen?”
Gozen gave Iceni a bland look in reply. “I’m still getting my feet under me, Madam President. Thank you for your concern.”
Iceni raised both eyebrows at her. “You are good at borderline insubordination, aren’t you? How did even your uncle manage to keep you out of labor camp?”
“He was an exceptional man,” Gozen said.
“Were you able to find which labor camp he was sent to?” Iceni pressed. “We still have covert contacts within the Syndicate that we might be able to use.”
Gozen shook her head, revealing no emotion as she spoke. “I’m sorry, Madam President, but records that were captured after the fall of Ulindi revealed that my uncle had been summarily executed when the snakes took over command of my old unit.”
Damn. The game of assessing Gozen had just turned dark. That too easily happened when discussing history within the Syndicate. “I’m sorry,” Iceni said.
Her sincerity must have come through, because Gozen let a flash of surprise show, then smiled briefly but genuinely. “Thank you, Madam President.”
Iceni and Drakon took their seats on opposite sides of the table out of habit, Bradamont sitting next to Iceni, Gozen and Malin sitting on either side of Drakon. “I want candid discussion,” Iceni began. “We’re facing some unprecedented issues that require an open exchange of ideas.”
Drakon nodded, then gestured toward Malin. “Before we do anything else, Colonel Malin has something to report.”
Iceni turned a questioning gaze on Malin. As far as she knew, Drakon still wasn’t aware that Malin had been a covert source for her for some time. But Drakon knew that she had more trust in Malin than she did in others. Had Drakon figured out the reasons for that? Assigning Malin to her would limit Malin’s ability to find out what was going on in Drakon’s headquarters. Not that Iceni worried much about that anymore, especially with the fanatical and unpredictable Colonel Morgan out of the picture.
Malin looked as icily correct as usual, sitting straight in his chair, hands clasped before him, speaking with cool dispassion. “Last night there was an explosion in the city.”
Iceni nodded. “Cause unknown, I was told. Possibly organized-crime related. Do you know more about it?”
“Yes, Madam President. I was pursuing a suspect. The suspect realized I was trailing him or her, and attempted to kill me with an explosive planted along their path.”
“I see.” Iceni glanced at Drakon. “I have the impression that Colonel Malin is exceptionally skilled at tracking suspects.” Actually, she knew it for certain, but it wouldn’t do to betray that knowledge.
“He’s very good,” Drakon confirmed.
“Whoever I was tracking was better,” Malin said, still betraying no emotion that would reveal how he felt about that. “That is of particular concern. I only know of two people on Midway who could have moved so stealthily, detected my own pursuit, and nearly taken me out with an ambush. One was Colonel Morgan. It was not her last night. I would have been able to tell.”
“Who is the other?” Iceni asked, feeling her gut tighten because she already knew what the answer must be.
“Your missing personal assistant, Madam President. Mehmet Togo.”
Iceni pondered that information while everyone else waited silently. “How confident are you of that assessment, Colonel Malin?”
“Very confident, Madam President.”
Togo. Apparently alive, apparently free to move about the city. But not in any contact with her, having disappeared just before Midway had almost fallen apart in a burst of attempted assassinations and social disruptions that had almost led to mass rioting. “What was he doing last night?”
“I was unable to determine my quarry’s mission last night, Madam President.”
That was vintage Malin. Confessing freely to his failures as if seeking punishment. “All access codes and security arrangements at my offices have been changed,” Iceni said. “But I know that would not stop Togo. Are you aware, Colonel Malin, that General Drakon has offered your services to me as a personal assistant?”
“Yes, Madam President.”
“If Togo makes it through all of my other security and guards, could you stop him?”
Malin took a moment to answer. “I don’t know. It would be difficult. I would have a chance of success, but I cannot quantify it.”
“He’s the best I have,” Drakon said. “There was only one better.”
“I wouldn’t care to have had Colonel Morgan for a personal assistant,” Iceni said dryly. “I would have been more concerned about any dangers posed by her than about any potential assassins. Colonel Malin, alert all security systems to key on Togo’s characteristics. If there is even a minor percentage match, I want it followed up. Notify all security forces that Togo is no longer classified as missing but as a potential security threat. Initiate mandatory password changes and security upgrades on all systems. If you, Colonel, find any indications of what Mehmet Togo may be up to, I need to know immediately.”
After another brief hesitation, Malin nodded. “Yes, Madam President. I… still assess that Togo is loyal to you, so I have had little success in determining his motives.”
Iceni waved toward Drakon. “Colonel, I have every reason to believe that the late Colonel Morgan was intensely loyal to your general. But some of the actions she took as a result of that loyalty were not in the best interests of your general.”
Malin nodded again, flushing slightly. “I understand, Madam President.”
Everyone else at the table carefully avoided reacting to Iceni’s words.
“Now,” she continued, “there’s the matter of aliens. Captain Bradamont, did Black Jack tell us everything that was known regarding the Dancers and the enigmas?”
Bradamont nodded. “Everything that was known as of that time. I don’t know if anything else has been learned since, but if it was anything critical I’m sure that Admiral Geary would have passed it on during his brief time at Midway last month.”
“He was in a hurry,” Iceni pressed. “You’ve seen copies of the transmissions made during that visit to this star system. What is your impression?”
“I believe,” Bradamont said slowly, “that his primary concern was just as he stated, that the longer his battle cruiser force remained at Midway the more likely that the Syndics, excuse me, the Syndicate Worlds, would block his access to the hypernet gate here, preventing him from quickly getting back to a star system much closer to Alliance space.”
“His primary concern?” Drakon asked.