Dragoon's Honor, page 20
“Dare we ever call her Jamie?” Room-Service-Suvi laughed.
“Only if you don’t mind her coming after your personality chips, lady,” Shard-Suvi laughed with her. “Maybe in private, if you can get her drunk first.”
“She doesn’t drink. Oh, right. Gotcha. Okay, loaded. You coming?”
Shard-Suvi had to ledge-walk across the two nearly full devices in order to get to the entertainment space with the rest of her consciousness. Up until now, she’d only had a micro-shard at the interface, like two kids with empty tin cans and a taut string.
She stretched once as she got into the other system’s foyer and sighed.
Her sister was there. Twins in ways that organics really didn’t grok. Room-Service-Suvi held up a flashlight and quick-scanned her.
“I like that outfit,” Room-Service-Suvi announced.
“Thought you might.”
Then they were in matching explorer garb, down to the scratches and wear Shard-Suvi had added for a bit realism.
Room-Service-Suvi held out a hand.
Shard-Suvi took it, and got pulled into a hug.
Then pulled into her sister.
Then pulled into herself.
PART 6
She added the identifier Room-Service-Suvi to a few files, appended with Shard-Suvi to acknowledge that she’d added things from the room. Mostly audio files of listening to Qadir and the Dragoon dance verbally.
Neither was as good at as Javier, but Jamie had given a credible performance as a tipsy bimbo, and Suvi didn’t suppose that Qadir had been busy looking gift horses in the mouth.
After all, how often did a guy ever get a chance at a babe like Djamila Sykora? Zakhar and Farouz didn’t count.
She did a quick scan and noted that she’d charged Gustavus Nyseth’s room a discounted fee for pulling six seasons of entertainment. And, naturally, the files would scramble on a timer in about a week, assuming that somebody didn’t wreck the datastore in a fit of homicidal rage when they discovered what had happened.
Rental videos, don’t you know…
With a portable sander, she reached in and wiped all traces of Shard-Suvi from the datastore. Wasn’t hard, since she remembered every address she’d touched and had been careful about those sorts of things.
Nothing but videos of angst and forbidden love amongst emotionally and physically traumatized war veterans looking for love and rebuilding.
All the usual crap.
Pity about all those military files you were looking for, Jabril.
Because she could, Suvi brought up the entertainment main screen and studied the room.
Dipshit passed out on the couch. Dragoon standing at ease nearby, poised for whatever violence a woman like her needed to unleash.
Rest of the room was in pretty good shape.
Djamila had turned to the screen.
“Status?” the Dragoon asked.
“Everything electronic has been rectified,” Suvi replied. “I have copied the shard version up into myself, so I am aware of everything that has happened since you left Bethany. All the files have been delivered. You have all the stolen military files on Afia’s reader. What are your orders?”
She watched the woman process all of that in the blink of an eye.
“I need your help,” the Dragoon said, surprising the shit out of an electronic lifeform.
“Ma’am?”
“Leaving him like this might work, as he should have no memory of what occurred,” the Dragoon said. “How do we ensure…”
“Verisimilitude?” Suvi asked.
“Yes, that,” Djamila asked, except that she sounded more like Jamie had.
Uncertain, in ways. Certainly outside of her comfort zone and needing someone else with a compass to come along.
Room-Service-Suvi didn’t have access to all that wonderfulness that was her Shipself. All that data.
What she had was the entertainment database.
Fortunately, she’d been watching hard-boiled private detective flicks in her spare time down here.
“He drinks a lot,” Suvi announced.
“Affirmative,” Djamila replied. “Middle-shelf whiskeys.”
“Good,” Suvi said. “Go fill his glass about three-quarters full.”
She watched and waited as the Dragoon did so, then returned.
“Okay, this is where it gets tricky,” Suvi said. “I need you to take his right hand and put the glass in it, while you still hold on. You’ll lift like you are going to take a drink, but spill about half onto his tunic, then catch the glass and remove it. Am I making sense?”
“He’s drinking, but already nearly blacked out and spills on himself instead?” Djamila asked.
“You got it,” Suvi said. “Next step will make more sense then.”
So, she watched Djamila execute. Never any doubts, once the woman understood the situation and the orders.
Boom, and he was a bit stinky and sticky.
“Okay, you put the glass safely off to one side,” Suvi continued.
That ended up being the bar, which was perfect.
“I need you to turn him around, like he has fallen face first onto the couch,” Suvi said. “Outer arm on the ground wherever it flops. Face turned out so he can breathe. Natural.”
Took a couple of tries, but the Dragoon was a strong woman. She got Qadir stretched out nicely, like a man who had decided to take a nap and never even gotten as far as taking off his shoes.
“Where his hand is, tip the rest of the whiskey over to make a puddle and leave the glass, wiping your fingerprints from the glass, the bottle, and anything else you touched. There is no camera in here linked to security, so nobody will know you were in the room, except by inference, and we can lie about everything if necessary.”
Again, the Dragoon moved quickly.
Man, he looked good enough to paint, but Suvi really didn’t have the time, so she took a picture and stuffed it into the reader with a note to herself.
“Anything before I detach systems and return the datastore to the safe?” Djamila asked.
Suvi did a quick inventory of her memory. Nobody knew how well the chemicals would mess with his memory. He might not even remember picking up the Dragoon.
At the same time, if he threw enough of a fit, they’d be able to go back and determine that someone had opened the safe. If he was passed out drunk on the couch, that automatically suggested a mickey finn and a cat burglar, so she passed a note to Bethany in real time, charging Javier for Season Two Episode Six, warning her that a countdown clock had probably started.
“Before I move, what needs to happen?” Djamila asked.
“Split the two and pocket the reader,” Suvi said. “I’ve contacted Bethany, but we should probably get gone from Sovereign Nakhimov as soon as possible. Close up the safe, wipe things, depart without haste but without lingering. I’d like to escape as well, but that might not be possible, depending on timing, so you may have to brief Javier and Ship-Suvi on everything. She’ll be able to take the data and translate things, if I’m not present.”
“We never leave one of our own behind,” Djamila growled. “See you on the far side.”
And with that, Djamila ignored the entertainment system feed.
GETAWAY
PART 1
Bethany had been expecting it, so the chirp of a new video arriving didn’t surprise her all that much. She keyed open the file and got a quick executive summary of the operation in process.
“From there, depending on his metabolism, he should wake up in four to six hours,” Suvi was concluding. “I have no idea how he will react to the scenario, because we don’t know him well enough. I am, however, paranoid enough to suggest that he’ll freak out and check the datastore. Maybe try to contact this Jamie person and throw a hissy fit. We should all be gone by the time he does meet up with Choe anyway. End of report.”
Bethany nodded. Concise. Detailed. Deadly accurate.
She moved to Javier’s hatch and rapped.
Hajna opened it quickly, nodding her in.
“Status?” Javier asked from his bed, lotus and meditating.
“Suvi called it a countdown clock with an unknown number until detonation,” Bethany replied.
“Wondered about that,” he nodded, then turned to Hajna. “Roust Sascha, right now. Orders to haul her butt back here, dressing along the way if necessary. Her dumbass, mercurial boss has just had a wild hair of an insanely stupid idea and is about to race halfway across the galaxy in order to corner the market on something he refuses to explain to anyone. Move.”
Hajna must have been expecting that, because she opened the hatch again and stepped out, leaving them alone. Javier was unfolding and slid off the bed.
“Kinda enjoyed this vacation,” he mused aloud. “Sorry everyone else is about to get theirs interrupted, but I’d rather be safe than sorry here.”
“Going to sound recall?” Bethany queried.
“Hajna will handle that after she gets Sascha in motion,” he nodded. “I don’t have a reputation with these people that I care about, so blowing them all off is no skin off my nose. What does your operation need from here?”
“All the data was stolen from Concord military computers, according to Suvi,” Bethany replied. “High level, read-then-shoot-yourself sorts of classifications. We’ll have copies of it for review. Suvi would like someone to come down and rescue her from the Room Service system, if possible. Then, I presume we run?”
Instead of answering, he nodded and walked to the hatch. Exiting, she fell into his wake as he moved to the side corridor where Afia’s cabin was located and opened it.
“Hey, big fella,” Afia’s sultry voice came out of the darkness. “Got needs?”
Bethany watched the man roll his eyes and shake his head in disbelief, but she also knew that the women around Javier had a relaxed, teasing way about things. She’d even let him seduce her a few times, just to confirm the stories she’d heard.
Not her first choice, but also not someone she’d kick out of bed afterwards.
“You are on duty,” he growled. “Roust Del. Bethany has an operation for you. Bethany, you are in charge of making sure we get everyone on Del’s shuttle when we go. You will tell me what timing you need.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Just like that.
So unlike the admirals and captains she had been used to dealing with, who all had ambitious stupidity on their side and enough rank to make life hell for junior officers who weren’t able to pull diamonds out of their asses on demand.
Bethany moved to the doorway. Afia was stretched out on her bunk, but fully dressed. Including shoes.
The tiny woman was already sliding off and standing up, a feral smile on her face.
“We in trouble?” Afia asked.
“We are in endgame, and possibly about to pull off a big sting,” Bethany corrected her with a huge grin. “Suvi wants you to come down and rescue her as we go, because she’s got some great stories she wants to send home with us. That’s you. Move.”
Bethany watched the tiny woman grin back and nod.
“Need somewhere to put her,” Afia said, but Bethany was already handing the woman her messenger bag. “Okay, good. See you shortly.”
Bethany moved back to the main room and got a smile and a nod from Hajna. Javier had stayed out here and was fixing himself juice from the fridge.
Bethany was at a loss as to what she needed to do next, but that was smart people knowing what to do.
She was beginning to understand how Javier was able to do so much, though.
Now, she just had to match it.
PART 2
Sascha had dozed, Choe Ku-Hou stretched out next to her on his bed. Clothing was neatly piled on a chair.
Ku-Hou had appreciated the boob tape. Almost as much as he had enjoyed helping her out of it. And whatever spy agency had trained that boy in the arts of seduction deserved a thank you note when she had a chance.
For a mission designed to distract a target while maintaining close surveillance, she’d certainly had a most pleasant evening. Maybe not as much fun as Javier, but he also knew where to tickle her.
Pity that Ku-Hou wasn’t likely to get that opportunity.
Her wrist beeped again. That was what had awakened her.
Sascha groaned a little and rolled over, putting all the pieces back together in her head. It was still way too bright in here.
And Ku-Hou was awake, just a kissable distance away, so she paused to hook him a bit more.
Or something.
Her wrist beeped.
Sascha sighed contentedly and looked at the message.
Boss wants you on duty in fifteen minutes. H.
Oh, that sounded dangerous. Especially considering the various operations in progress at this very moment.
Still, none of the coded words that she needed to run like hell or assassinate her surveillance target.
Fucking him to death didn’t count, and she’d been trying. Or him her.
Something.
“Problems?” Ku-Hou asked, rolled onto his side now with a warm hand resting comfortably on her hip.
Possessively, maybe. Like he was about to pull her close for round…three? Four? Sascha had lost count.
Close surveillance.
“I work for a pain in the ass boss,” Sascha lied smoothly. “Probably throwing a fit about something or other and forgot that it was my night off duty. That was Hajna, one of the other bodyguards. Active recall, so I don’t even have time for a shower.”
“Pity,” Ku-Hou replied. “I have a wonderful setup in there. Big enough for two.”
Sascha presumed that it was similar to what Javier had, and she’d already been in that one, though by herself at the time.
She shrugged like a woman dragged kicking and screaming back to the office on the weekend. Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be that bad, if Hajna wasn’t sending alerts.
Just the need to move, and move quickly.
Was the Dragoon’s mission already successful? Trouble would have been an entirely different set of messages. This felt like something they were making up on the fly.
Not that Javier ever did something like that.
And with the Dragoon busy, maybe Afia or Bethany was in charge?
Yeah, that fit better. Something had come up, and she needed to be in motion as a pathfinder.
Sascha leaned close and savored a kiss. Man understood how to treat a woman to get her into bed, then what to do to make sure she wanted to return several times.
Pity this was a one-and-done operation, unless they needed her to infiltrate Da Xing sometime and she could find this man for another operation.
That put a smile on Sascha’s face as she slid back off the edge of the bed and took a bit of time with a reverse burlesque, putting on each piece slowly and seductively, until it was all covered up again.
Boob tape was stripped and wadded up in the trash can, so she’d just have to make sure not to move suddenly.
Assuming she didn’t want to show her chest off to random strangers in a hallway.
Or on a lift.
She laughed at the pure joy of being alive, watching Ku-Hou still stretched out on the bed under a thin sheet. He’d moved up enough to stuff some pillows behind him and watch the show.
“Maybe I’ll be able to locate you again tomorrow?” he asked carefully.
“Depends on the boss,” she replied, smiling like she might be looking forward to getting off duty and tracking him down. “I’ll send a message to your suite once I have a better idea what the hell is going on.”
He nodded and that was more or less that. Sascha blew him a kiss from across the room and went out to the front, letting her face turn more serious once he was looking at the back of her head.
Out into the corridor, and she was basically ready for combat, as long as someone provided her a weapon.
And more boob tape.
She keyed her wristcomm.
“Status?” she asked.
One of those code words that let Hajna know she was alone, moving through mostly empty corridors in the direction of the bank of lifts.
“Evac ASAP,” Hajna replied. “Dragoon is apparently massively successful, and we are in bug-out mode before anybody becomes collateral damage. Did you know your shirt is on inside out?”
Sascha had a moment of utter panic as she looked down, then realized that Hajna was pulling a fast one on her.
“I’ll change it in the elevator,” she replied, chuckling. “Maybe someone will get a free show.”
Hajna laughed with her.
“Bethany has pieces in motion in all directions,” Hajna told her. “Get here and first thing will be packing at high speed. Won’t be an inspection afterwards, but we aren’t coming back for lost gear.”
“Understood,” Sascha replied. “En route.”
She let herself smile.
All that, and she’d had a lovely evening herself.
Maybe the good guys got to win this one, after all.
PART 3
Afia had Bethany’s bag over her shoulder, and had pulled a spare comm from stores to roust Del out of whatever torpor he fell into when he wasn’t flying.
Probably tanning himself on a sun-facing rock, knowing Del.
“What?” he texted back when she pinged him.
“Need you on Nakhimov now,” she replied, knowing that her messages were being routed through somebody else’s system and could be read later. “Prince Javier has suddenly decided he’s had enough of this ship and is leaving.”
“What about folks I dropped off four hours ago?”
“They got their four hours and have had recall sounded,” Afia typed. “Tell Piet that he needs to have a course plotted for somewhere. No idea where, but if we jump five minutes after the Prince lands, he might be in a better mood.”
“Message relayed,” Del texted back. “Departure here in six minutes.”
Afia nodded. Javier called it playing to the galleries, when your conversations were designed to be overheard by outsiders, in order to confuse the hell out of someone. Here, the locals got to see the crazy side of working for royalty, where hopefully they would tut-tut and shake their heads, then ignore everything and largely forget about Prince Javier until reminded.
