Drakon leaned back, deliberately casual, as he answered. “Colonel Rogero had been working for the ISS for a few years.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Morgan was seething, looking dangerous as well as angry.
“I figured you’d find out.”
“But you told Malin?”
“He figured it out, too,” Drakon replied, being careful not to add before you did. When that message had come for Rogero while the Alliance fleet was transiting through this star system, it had made it all but inevitable that both Morgan and Malin would eventually follow that thread to its source.
Morgan leaned forward, her hands resting on the front of his desk, still angry but also curious. “Why? Why is Rogero still alive? He’s been a source for the snakes. He could have ratted us all out before we took down the snakes.”
“No.” Drakon kept his calm demeanor. “I knew from the first day that Rogero had been approached by the snakes and told to cooperate or else. He told them nothing about me that I didn’t want him to say. Rogero helped lull the snakes into thinking I wasn’t planning anything.”
“He was your agent? Doubled against the snakes? But what about the Alliance, General? What about the fact that Rogero’s loyalty is so far compromised that he’s involved with some enemy bitch?”
“I knew all about that, too. I knew about it when I got Rogero transferred back to my command, and that took some string-pulling. The government wanted Rogero stuck on a labor-camp staff on some hellhole world until he died. That’s where he and the Alliance officer got involved with each other, at the labor camp where Rogero had been transferred for using his head in a crisis instead of just following procedure.” Drakon reached out and grabbed his drink, taking a long slug of caff. “I gave some snake exec the idea of using him as a source against the Alliance, so the ISS helped me get it done. The snakes set things up for the Alliance woman to get liberated and Rogero to send and receive messages with her. I knew that they’d also tell him to report on me, but that way I knew who one of the snake spies was.”
“You worked with the snakes to put a spy on your own staff?” Morgan stared for a moment, then laughed. “You’re crazy!” Something in her voice made it sound as if that made Drakon the most desirable man in the galaxy.
He couldn’t help grinning. “Like a fox.”
“Yes! So the ISS got Rogero’s Alliance bitch freed and back in their fleet? Where’s she right now? I know she’s with Black Jack’s fleet, but what is she doing?”
“She’s in command of one of the Alliance battle cruisers.”
Morgan paused, a smile growing. “A battle cruiser commander? In Black Jack’s fleet? And she’s hot for Rogero? Forgive me, General. You’re not just crazy. You’re crazy brilliant.”
“Thanks.” Drakon shrugged. “Whether she’s still hot for him is an open question. The message she sent Rogero when Black Jack’s fleet passed through here last time could be summed up as ‘Hi, how’s it going?’ It subtly asked for information on the situation here but doesn’t give any clues to her current feelings.”
Flopping onto a sofa, Morgan sprawled out, a leg cocked over one end of the sofa. “What did our lover boy reply?”
“Rogero didn’t send a reply. Iceni managed to get him the message without the snakes finding out, but anything he sent in answer might have been spotted by the snakes and he was only supposed to communicate with the Alliance woman through them. That would have attracted attention from the snakes that could have been deadly for all of us.”
“Yeah.” Morgan gazed thoughtfully toward the opposite wall, one hand absently stroking the hand weapon holstered at her hip. “But how does Rogero feel? Does he want to run off with this bitch?”
Drakon hitched forward a bit, speaking more forcefully. “Rogero’s feelings are up to him as long as he stays loyal to me, and I strongly advise that you not describe the Alliance woman in that way if there is any chance of Rogero’s hearing you.”
Morgan grinned. “He’s in looooove, huh? Men are so damned easy. He’s probably dreaming about taking a shuttle out to meet his sweetheart when that fleet comes back, so they can both have some happily-ever-after on some Alliance hick world. But, boss, you can’t let someone who knows as much as Rogero does go over to the Alliance.” She sounded relaxed and casual, but her hand, as if of its own accord, tightened about the grip of her hand weapon.
“If Rogero makes that decision, it’s his to make. He’s earned that from me, and I know he won’t tell the Alliance anything that would hurt me.”
“Sir, seriously, you’re crazy brilliant, but you don’t always want to do what you need to do.” Morgan smiled wider. “That’s why you need me.”
Drakon kept his own expression somber. “I also need Rogero. Nothing is to happen to him unless I say so.”
“General—”
“I mean it, Morgan. I want to see what Rogero tells this battle cruiser commander of Black Jack’s when that fleet gets back here.”
“If it gets back here, you mean,” Morgan said. “They went diving deep into enigma space. Nothing we sent in has ever come back from there.”
“Nothing of ours,” Drakon agreed. “Except you.”
The catlike assurance vanished and her eyes went cold for a moment, as if endless space itself were looking out through them. “They sent in someone else. She had my name, she looked like me. But she died. I came back.” The coldness faded, replaced by Morgan’s usual steely intensity. “Black Jack may have bitten off too much this time.”
“Maybe. But then, we never beat the enigmas. He did.”
Morgan’s eyes flashed again at that, this time with heat, and Drakon understood exactly why. It grated on him, too, that this Alliance officer, a man who by all rights should have died a hundred years ago, had not only crushed the mobile forces of the Syndicate Worlds but also smashed an enigma fleet attacking Midway Star System. The Syndicate Worlds had been in arm’s-length contact with the alien enigma race for more than a century but had learned less in that time than the Alliance had somehow figured out in a much shorter period. They had all been saved by Black Jack, but mingled with their thankfulness were very strong feelings of envy and resentment.
Black Jack must have been in survival sleep for that century, Drakon thought. He didn’t seem to have aged much if at all. Had the Alliance actually lost him after the battle at Grendel? There were unconfirmed intelligence reports that that might have been the case, that Black Jack had been in a damaged survival pod. Or had the Alliance deliberately kept their hero in cold storage for decade after decade until they decided things were desperate enough to thaw him out? That was what the Syndicate government would have done with a hero who was big enough to possibly challenge them. The Alliance government claimed to be different from the Syndicate government, but was it?
Morgan sat silent before looking back at Drakon and smiling again. “I could get to him. Like Rogero got to that Alliance battle cruiser commander. When Black Jack gets back, I’ll send him some messages. Hero-worship stuff. Adoring-female attention. He’ll bite.”
Drakon returned her gaze, seeing how she was draped across the sofa, her tight skin suit emphasizing every curve. Beautiful and dangerous, a combination that set the little monkey that all men carried in their heads to jumping up and down with excitement. And Morgan knew it. “Black Jack might already have a woman. There are some rumors.”
“Not a woman like me.” Morgan winked and stood up. “It’s worth trying, right?”
He tried to weigh the idea dispassionately, feeling a spark of jealousy at the thought of Morgan with Black Jack, and doing his best to bury that feeling. Leverage over Black Jack. Inside information on what he intended. It was impossible to overstate how valuable those things could be. “Maybe. Did you discover anything else?”