But he couldn't. Not yet.
Stepping into the apartment's compact office, he lowered himself into the desk chair and turned on the computer, digging the magnecoded card from his jacket pocket and sliding it into the reader. If all went according to plan, tomorrow would be the final climactic culmination of everything he'd prepared for and worked for and hoped for for so long.
When it came, he intended to be ready.
Propping his chin on his hands on the edge of the desk, fighting against the fatigue tugging at him, he began to read.
CHAPTER 17
Bailey spent the morning at the hospital, listening with growing impatience to the interrogator's latest futile efforts to wring something more about Aegis from the wounded Phoenix boy.
It was just after one in the afternoon when the word came that the quarry was on the move.
"They left the highway half an hour ago and headed into the mountains," Ramirez reported as Bailey strode into the situation room. Beside him, General Poirot stood silently, his face settled into the same grim expression he'd been wearing ever since the blackcollars' rescue and escape the previous evening. Standing a pace behind the two men were Daasaa and Halaak, towering over the scene like brooding thunderclouds. "We weren't able to get a visual on the driver or passengers, but it has to be them."
Bailey ran his eyes down the readouts. The vehicle in question was a dark blue delivery van, the rear area fully enclosed with no windows, registered to one of Denver's longtime residents. "You've checked the ownership?"
"Stolen this morning," Ramirez told him. "Done very quietly, too—the owner hadn't even missed it."
And according to the picture being relayed from the spotter flying high overhead, the van was headed along the most direct route toward Shelter Valley. "It does look promising," he agreed cautiously, turning to the two Ryqril. "Battle Architect Daasaa, what would you have me do?"
Poirot stirred, but didn't speak. "Re rill ratch until they arri'e at their destination," Daasaa said. "Then re rill take they."
"Or re rill kill they," Halaak added darkly.
"As you command, Your Eminence," Bailey said, wincing at Halaak's almost casual comment. From what he'd seen over the past couple of days, killing blackcollars wasn't something even a Ryq should speak so confidently about. "Though we might want to keep them alive, at least for a while. They may have set up booby traps inside the base."
Halaak snorted contemptuously. "Ryqril rarriors can easily disarn any such tra's."
"Of course," Bailey said hastily. "I didn't mean to imply they couldn't."
"Assuming the warriors can actually get inside, that is," Poirot murmured.
"Yae rish t' s'eak, General 'Oirot?" Daasaa invited.
"I was simply wondering if this back door might have been designed so that only humans could pass," Poirot explained. "If I were designing such a place, I'd certainly have added choke points a Ryq wouldn't be able go get through."
"Interesting yae should suggest such a thing," Daasaa said, his tone thoughtful. "I ha' 'een rondering that nysel'."
"It seems a logical thing for them to have done," Poirot said, some of the tightness in his face easing. Bringing a Ryq potentially bad news was always dangerous unless it was something that the Ryq already knew or suspected. In that case, the human merely came off looking brilliant.
Though considering Poirot's current position, it might only mean he would look less suspicious. Under the circumstances, Bailey suspected the general would be willing to settle for that.
"In that case, we might want to bring some of our own techs and Security men along," Ramirez suggested. "That way, if there are choke points, we won't have to take the time to send back here for them."
"Another interesting 'oint," Daasaa said. "Ha' yae already chosen the hunans yae rish tae 'ring?"
"I—" Ramirez broke off, his expression twitching as he suddenly spotted the verbal trap. "No. No, of course not, Your Eminence."
"And yae, General 'Oirot?" Daasaa asked, looking back at Poirot. "Ha' yae nade a list o' hunans for this jo'?"
"Obviously, they would have to be people we can trust," Poirot said calmly. Unlike Ramirez, he'd clearly already thought it through. "With the blackcollars and Whiplash on the loose, we can't simply grab the nearest men and hope for the best."
"Yae see the 'ro'len," Daasaa said, looking pointedly at Ramirez.
"So my suggestion would be that we assemble a team out of brand-new recruits who've just completed their loyalty-conditioning," Poirot went on. "They've been in Athena for the past three weeks, with no chance that Phoenix could have gotten to them."
"Lieutenant Ranirez?" Daasaa invited.
"Yes, that should work," Ramirez said reluctantly, eyeing Poirot. "Of course, fresh recruits won't be as competent as more seasoned men."
"How competent do they have to be?" Poirot countered. "All they have to do is go in, see what condition the back door and base are in, and come back out to report."
"Unless there are booby traps," Ramirez countered.
"Colonel 'Ailey?" Daasaa asked
Bailey felt his throat tighten. They were his men, after all, who Poirot was talking so casually about sacrificing.
But in front of a pair of suspicious Ryqril was no time to look squeamish or hesitant. "General Poirot is right," he said firmly. "If we lose a few men, then we lose them." He looked Ramirez straight in the eye. "There are certainly more where they came from."
A flicker of surprise crossed Ramirez's face. But then his eyes went sideways to the two Ryqril, and his expression settled back into the plain-tan neutral he seemed to be wearing more and more regularly these days. "Of course," he said evenly.
Bailey looked back at Daasaa. "Does this plan meet with Your Eminences' approval?"
"It does," Daasaa said. "Yae nay 'egin 'ulling the 'iles on these new hunan recruits. Re rill rant six guards and three techs."
"Six guards and three techs, yes, Your Eminence," Bailey confirmed.
"General 'Oirot rill assist yae," Daasaa added.
Bailey grimaced before he could catch himself. "As you command, Your Eminence." He gestured to Poirot. "General?"
"Thank you, Colonel," Poirot said softly.
"Re rill stay here and ratch," Daasaa told them, his eyes drifting back to the spotter display. "Yae rill 'e ready ren the 'lackcollars reach the nountain."
* * *
"I hear," Judas said carefully, "you had a little excitement last night after the drills."
"A little," Lathe confirmed, his eyes on the kitchen table where he'd spread out his weapons in neat rows. "Not as much as we'd hoped for, unfortunately."
"I'd have thought you already had enough excitement scheduled for one week," Judas said. "Comsquare Bhat said you tried to penetrate the city government center?"
"Tried being the operative word," Mordecai put in as he came into the room with a flat box under his arm. "Shaw said you wanted more primer caps, Lathe?"
"Yes, thanks," Lathe said, accepting the box and setting it down in one of the few empty spots on the table. "It wasn't a big deal, as it turned out," he continued to Judas. "We borrowed a Security car up in the mountains and tried to use it to get in through one of the special-access gates. But they'd apparently figured it out and locked down the transponder system before we got there. So we ran."
"We didn't run," Mordecai corrected. "We vanished like ghosts into the night."
"Correction noted," Lathe said dryly. "End of story."
"Ah," Judas said, sitting down at the table and trying to study Lathe's face without looking obvious about it. Galway and Haberdae were convinced that Lathe and the others had no idea that Caine was imprisoned inside the strongpoint where they'd carried out their carjacking. But it was Judas's life on the line here, not theirs. "So you just grabbed a car off the street?"
With a sigh, Lathe laid down the knife he'd been sharpening and turned his full attention to Judas. "I had Spadafora watch Haberdae the night they tried to grab
us. Just on spec—I thought he might go into Khorstron and that we'd get to see the entry procedure. Instead, he went up to a base in the Deerline Mountains. It seemed an intriguingly out-of-the-way place, so I told him to stay put and clear the entry for us."
"You mean knock out the sensors?"
"Right," Lathe said. "There wasn't any more traffic up there until this evening, when who should show up but our old friend Galway. Mordecai and I got there before he left, gimmicked his fuel line to kill the car about a klick away, where we jumped him and his escort. Would you also like to know what all of them were wearing?"
"Security gray-green, I'd guess," Judas said, a little annoyance pushing through his relief that his cover was still secure. There was no need for Lathe to be patronizing about this. "I'm sorry if my need to know is getting in your way."
Lathe grimaced. "No, I'm sorry," he apologized. "With Shaw and a whole group of blackcollars to work with, I guess I've fallen back into the old routine of communication and command structure. It doesn't leave much space for outsiders, I'm afraid."
"I understand," Judas said. "I just don't like being left out of things, that's all."
"Don't worry," Lathe assured him. "From now on, you'll be completely in the loop."
"Or the noose," Mordecai murmured.
Lathe nodded heavily. "Sometimes, there's not a lot of difference."
* * *
"Right here," Bailey said, pointing to the replay of the spotter track. "You see it?"
"I don't see anything," Ramirez said, leaning a little closer. "Okay, so the van slows down a little. That's a very twisty road."
"It doesn't just slow down a little," Bailey countered, looking at the two Ryqril still standing their silent vigil at the status boards. "It slows down a lot. And the road isn't that twisty right there. More importantly, it slows down just as it passes under this nice, convenient cluster of trees."
"But why get off there?" Ramirez objected. "There's still a long way to go before the van reaches Shelter Valley."
"Only Shelter Valley isn't the target, is it?" Bailey reminded him tartly. "I'm telling you, they're gone. If we wait until the van pulls into town, we're going to come up dry."
"And if we start sending spotters swooping around with sensor disks, we're going to spook them for sure," Ramirez countered.
"Colonel 'Ailey is correct," Daasaa spoke up, his tone leaving no room for argument or appeal. "The 'lackcollars ha' le't the 'ehicle."
"But there's no IR track that shows anyone leaving that area, Your Eminences," Ramirez argued, gesturing at the sensor map.
"Because they stayed under the trees until the van had drawn the spotters' attention away from the area," Bailey said.
"Yae are tracking now?" Halaak demanded.
"We have a half-dozen spotters waiting your orders," Bailey said. "If the blackcollars are out there, we'll find them."
Daasaa and Halaak looked at each other, and it wasn't difficult for Bailey to read their thoughts. If this was just another subtly drawn blackcollar diversion, moving that many spotters into the mountains would leave Athena that much more open to attack.
But it was a risk Bailey was willing to take. The blackcollars were out there. He was sure of it.
"What i' they ha' already gone underground?" Halaak asked. "Re should nove in and take the 'an now."
"But if we do that and the driver's in contact with Skyler's team, we'll spook them," Bailey pointed out.
"Again, yae are correct," Daasaa said, looking at Halaak. "Re rill not yet take the 'an." He turned back to Bailey. "Yae nay launch yaer s'otters."
"As you command, Your Eminence." Bailey gestured to the spotter officer. "Spotters away," he ordered.
"Yes, sir." The other touched a key. "Spotters away."
The minutes ticked slowly by. Bailey listened to the low murmur of conversation in the situation room, one hand tapping restlessly against the side of his leg. He was right about this. He knew he was right.
But if he wasn't ...
"There," one of the techs said suddenly, pointing at the display. "Four human IR signatures moving south-southwest."
"Only four?" Ramirez asked.
"The fifth must be driving the van," Bailey said.
"Then it is tine," Daasaa declared. "Assen'le yaer tean, Colonel 'Ailey. Re nust 'e ready ren they reach their goal."
"The team is ready now, Your Eminence," Bailey said. "And I have a Groundhopper transport standing ready."
Daasaa tilted his head slightly to the side. "A Groundho'er carries only trel'e 'assengers."
"Your pardon, Your Eminence, but there are only twelve of us," Bailey said, quickly running the numbers through his head again. "There are the three techs, the six Security men, you and Khassq Warrior Halaak, and me."
"And General 'Oirot," Daasaa said. He shifted his gaze— "And Lieutenant Ranirez."
Bailey looked at Ramirez, seeing his own surprise mirrored in the other's face. Poirot, for his part, merely looked thoughtful. "I was planning to leave Lieutenant Ramirez here to coordinate the operation," he said carefully. "And I thought General Poirot was still under suspicion."
"Yae are all under sus'icion," Halaak said, his eyes glittering. "That is 'recisely rhy yae are all coning."
"It is tine to 'ind out who the true traitor is," Daasaa said, his voice ominous. "Gather yaer tean, Colonel 'Ailey. It is tine tae go."
* * *
"You sure you know where we're going?" Hawking puffed as Skyler led them to the crest of yet another wooded hill.
"Absolutely," Skyler assured him, glancing up at the drifting clouds visible between the leafy branches overhead. "Another half klick, tops."
"That's what you said half a klick ago," O'Hara murmured, just loudly enough for Skyler to hear.
"Half a klick ago I said it was a whole klick," Skyler corrected. "Try to pay attention, will you?"
O'Hara muttered something not quite seditious about the decline in the standards of blackcollar leadership. Skyler responded in equally facetious kind, and the two of them fell silent.
Flynn didn't join in the banter. He'd hardly slept last night, despite the heavy activity of the previous day, thoughts of Jensen's plans and fate swirling unpleasantly through his mind.
Which, on one level, was rather surprising to him. He'd had his share of training exercises with Jensen back on Plinry, of course, and had found the man to be a competent if somewhat distant instructor. He'd also sat in on many a late-night bull session where Jensen's state of mind had been dissected in minute and low-fact detail.
But until this mission he hadn't actually known very much about the man. Even now, after a couple of days of tromping the Rocky Mountain wilderness together, he knew he hadn't even scratched the other's paint. But at the same time, those days had created some kind of bond of understanding and respect between them, something completely intangible but just as definitely real.
Flynn didn't want to see Jensen sacrifice himself. Not even if such a sacrifice made a point to the Ryqril. Not even if it proved the key to ultimate victory.
Back on Plinry, he'd often wondered how Jensen could have been so affected by Novak's death, especially after so many other blackcollars had died. Now, in contrast, it was perfectly understandable.
A man didn't always get to choose who his friends and kindred spirits would be. Sometimes, the universe made those decisions for him.
"Aha," Skyler said, stopping suddenly at the top of yet another short ridge. "O ye of little faith. There it is."
Flynn hurried up the ridge, trying not to jostle O'Hara and Hawking on the way. He reached Skyler's side and scanned the greenery in front of them.
Which seemed to be nothing but greenery. "Where?" he asked.
"There," Hawking said, pointing at the end of a hill that opened up into a small clearing. "See the grating there, just beneath the overhang?"
"I see it," O'Hara said. "Nicely done."
"Flynn?" Skyler asked.
And finally, Fly
nn spotted it: an irregularly patterned grille, two meters across, set back almost invisibly in the shadow beneath the overhanging rock and grass. "Got it," he said. "Man. I wouldn't have believed you could hide something that big right out in the open."
"We'd better get inside," Hawking warned. "We don't want Security swooping down on Kanai and finding the rest of the birds have flown."