This was what Halak had been afraid of. Baatin had been smart, careful. Trusted. And he was still just as dead. “Do you know how much longer?”
Arava chose her words with care. “I’ve done some…negotiating. Depending upon what the higher-ups say, maybe as soon as next week, the week after. There’s a glitch, though. I’m not the only one who’s…interested. But I can tell you that something’s up. There are new people in the organization, and there’s talk.”
“Talk?”
“Of men from the Orion Syndicate infiltrating the rank and file, working their way up. The problem is, no one knows exactly who.”
“You think it’s true?”
Arava hesitated then nodded. “There have been intercepts of some shipments. Others disappear before they reach their destination. Qadir thinks there’s a mole, maybe more than one. I’ve already been questioned, twice.”
“How close do you think he is?”
Arava considered. “Let me put it this way: I hear he’s getting a telepath next.”
“Then you’re running out of time.”
“Maybe. I told the…contact, and she’s working on it.” Arava dragged in a deep breath. “Just a little longer, though. That’s all I need.”
“I can’t believe that you couldn’t leave now. Don’t you have enough to…?”
“Not quite yet. Look, I’ve worked long and hard to get where I am, and I’m not going to cash out now. I want to take as large a piece of Qadir with me as I can.”
“Baatin tried that.”
“And failed. Yes, I know,”said Arava, bitterly. “You think I don’t think about Baatin every damn day? Probably more than you ever will.”
“No,” said Halak, feeling a crush of guilt. “But this isn’t a contest.” He blew out, frustrated. “All right then. You’ve made up your mind. I’ll leave you alone.”
Arava jerked her head in a curt nod. “That’s what I want. Do you think you can get Dalal…?”
“She’s not going to budge a millimeter until you’re off-world.”
“Stubborn old mule.” A tiny smile flitted over Arava’s lips. “Remember the time I brought home that Vulcan sehlat?I thought Dalal was going to have a heart attack.”
“Yes, and I remember how set she was on getting rid of it, and how you cried all night until she gave in.” Halak grinned. “Damn thing nearly took my finger off the first time I tried petting it.”
“That’s because you didn’t smell right. It was just being territorial.” Arava’s expression softened. She walked to Halak, reached up, and cupped his face in her hands. “A lot of memories. When I’m out of here, Samir, I promise…”
“Sure,” said Halak, kissing Arava on the forehead. Then he saw Batra standing off to one side. Her face was pale; her lips were set. Halak was seized by an urge to tell her everything, right there—and discarded the impulse as suicidal. He could never tell her. He could never tell anyone.
But it’s not what you think.He tried to say this with his eyes. Ani, it’s not what you’re thinking.But Batra’s expression was unreadable.
Halak looked back down at Arava. “Sure,” he said again. “Sure.”
He tried to make certain that his smile made it to his eyes. Later, he was pretty sure it didn’t.
Chapter 10
Pressed against the slick stones of an apartment building across the street, the woman watched and waited. She’d seen them meet: Arava with her Bolian bodyguard, the commander, and a small woman with long black hair she didn’t recognize but who seemed to be with Halak. From a distance, she couldn’t tell if the woman was a local. She tended to doubt it. Something about the way the woman carried herself suggested a life that hadn’t been conditioned by deprivation, or the everyday struggle for simple survival. Another Starfleet? More than likely: She’d have to run a check when she had a moment, figure out the likely candidates aboard Enterprise.
She glanced over her shoulder every few moments, though she’d set up proximity alarms (silent, so only she would know, via a microtransceiver tucked in her right ear, if someone got within twenty meters). She was certain she hadn’t been followed, but operatives didn’t stay alive on Farius Prime for long if they weren’t cautious. (Two of her immediate predecessors had met ignominious ends: one with a knife wound through the heart in what was, putatively, a barroom brawl, and the other who’d been reduced to an oily smudge with a submolecular pattern disruptor. The weapon was illegal as sin, and very efficient.) She’d hung well back, letting the tracking device she’d slipped into the clasp of Arava’s cloak do the work for her.
All the while she waited for Halak to reemerge, the question kept bouncing around her brain: What was he doing here? It wasn’t as if coming to Farius Prime was illegal; it wasn’t a proscribed or quarantined world. But Farius Prime was the type of planet most people were happy to see receding in the distance.
And the point was Halak washere, and he was making contact with Arava. She fretted. Trouble there. She’d worked hard to make things come off with Arava; they were at a very delicate stage in their negotiations; and now if Halak interfered…A lot of work, a lot of time—a lot of moneygreasing the appropriate palms—it would all be for nothing if Halak screwed up the works.
She considered, briefly, that Halak might be one of her own. There had been rumors floating around about that Ryn mission, the one before he transferred to Enterprise.Eight months of down time might be an appropriate period for someone to go to ground. But she couldn’t believe he’d been deployed to the same theater without someone giving her a head’s up, not when things were this delicate.
The Bolian, Matsaro, worried her, too. She knew the man by reputation, of course. A Qatala man for years, but she had her ear to the ground, and there were rumors that the Bolian wanted more than Qadir was willing to give. Except when she’d told Arava, Arava shrugged her off, and that made her uneasy. Arava was too damned sure of herself, not willing to listen to reason, and she put too much store in her being the only way, after Baatin was dead, of anyone getting into the Qatala.
Well, times had changed, and she’d recruited another source. No sense putting all her eggs in Arava’s basket.
She breathed a little easier when, after a half hour, Halak and the small woman emerged. There was a brief exchange, and then Arava went one way; the Bolian, Halak, and the woman went another. Matsaro was probably escorting Halak off-world. She hoped so. She didn’t need the complications.
She checked the time. Good: over three hours before she and Arava were scheduled to make contact. Time enough for her to get some answers.
A half hour later, she was in her tiny apartment, keying in her authorization code to open a secured channel.
Her CO answered right away, prompting her to wonder if the woman ever slept. “Batanides.”
Then, when she recognized her caller, SI Commander Marta Batanides’s piercing blue eyes narrowed with concern. “Burke. You’re on an emergency channel, and a day early. What’s wrong, Lieutenant?”
“Plenty,” said Starfleet Intelligence Special Agent Laura Burke, her tone clipped and urgent. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about Halak?”
Chapter 11
What the hellwas that?