Implacable, page 32
He pointed to one particular name. “This one. Strasser. He was court-martialed for killing people who weren’t targets, just because he liked it. He should’ve faced a firing squad, but I guess someone pardoned him. And this one. Wanasinghe. Shot her sergeant because he’d written her up for drug use. And Gerasimov. Rape and attempted murder. None of them should’ve been allowed to wear a uniform again.”
“How did people like that even get in special forces?” Geary wondered.
Webb grimaced. “The Alliance needed a lot of people in the special forces during the war with the Syndics. Standards slipped. They took people they shouldn’t have.”
“I can understand that,” Geary said.
“Based on where the special security forces are bedded down on the other three battleships, we’ve got a picture of exactly where their counterparts on Implacable will be sleeping,” Webb added.
Geary nodded, glad that he had people like Webb and Carabali to handle this kind of operation. It wasn’t his skill set. “Thank you, Colonel. This information will be very valuable to the Marines.”
“About that, Admiral,” Webb said, looking uncomfortable. “I want to ask a big favor.”
Would Webb actually request mercy for the people he’d just described as dirtballs? “Go on,” Geary said.
“I request that I and my unit be the ones who go aboard Implacable and take down these guys,” Colonel Webb said. “We can take out discreet targets so quietly it won’t raise alarms. Then we can bag General Julian. He’s a criminal now, right? Ordering that Alliance personnel be shot?”
“Yes,” Geary said. “If we can get our hands on him, he’ll be under arrest.”
“Do you want to take control of the ship, Admiral?”
He’d been trying to sort that out. “I’d much rather the officers and crew made that choice. After what happened I’m sure they’d refuse to obey General Julian if he wasn’t holding them at gunpoint.”
“Fine,” Webb said. “If my unit goes in, the dirtballs would be dead before they knew it, the wannabes will be sleeping off tranquilizer rounds, we’ll take all their weapons with us, and with the fake special operators disarmed and out of the picture, and Julian in our hands, the crew of the ship can regain control.”
Not a request for mercy, after all. Geary stopped an initial reflexive denial of Webb’s request, thinking about it. “Why, Colonel? Why do you want this mission?”
“We screwed up bad, Admiral,” Webb said. “Me and my unit. We let down you, we let down the ambassador, we let down the other civilians counting on us to protect them. We want to make it right.”
“Your unit agrees with you on that?”
“They do, Admiral. All of them.”
Geary leaned back, considering the offer. “Why shouldn’t I use Marines?”
Webb gusted a short laugh. “Admiral, Marines can kick butt. But that’s not what you need here. They go on a ship to capture that ship. That’s what they do. And that means lots more potential for casualties among the crew of Implacable. My guys take out pinpoint targets.”
“Assassinations,” Geary said.
“When so ordered,” Webb admitted without trying to deny it. “That’s what you need here. These guys, like Strasser, have already bought themselves firing squads by killing some of the sailors on that ship. You can bet he’s one of those who pulled the trigger. We’ll just be getting the firing squads’ jobs done quicker. Take out the hard core, and the wannabes will be a piece of cake. Then we bag Julian, egress, and the crew of that ship is free.”
He hated ordering the deaths of specific people, but what Webb was saying was all true. Anyone involved in the “executions” aboard Implacable already had a death sentence hanging over them. Trying to spare them while increasing the danger to members of Implacable’s crew made no moral sense at all.
“I need to talk to General Carabali,” Geary said. “I’ll get back to you, Colonel.”
“Thank you, Admiral. We want to do this.” Webb saluted before his image vanished.
* * *
TO Geary’s surprise, General Carabali had no objections to Colonel Webb’s proposal. “We’re trained to capture enemy ships,” Carabali said. “We can also handle hostage situations. But a hostage situation the size of a battleship is pretty tough. Webb is right. His soldiers have a better chance than my Marines do of taking out a few important targets without raising a fuss. And his small force has a better chance of getting aboard that ship without being spotted.”
“They’ll need one of your stealth shuttles to approach Implacable,” Geary said.
“That’s not a problem,” Carabali said. “What is a problem is that an Alliance ship’s sensors will be keyed to spot subtle but critical signs of the stealth shuttle’s presence. If we can’t do something to disable or at least degrade the sensors on Implacable, it’s going to be really risky getting anyone onto that ship.”
“They didn’t fully link in with our command network,” Geary said. “I can’t use my fleet override codes for anything aboard Implacable.”
“Maybe we can get a single saboteur aboard? That’ll also be a very risky deal, of course.”
Geary rubbed his forehead, thinking. A deal. Maybe that was the answer. “There’s someone I need to talk to, General. I’ll get back with you.”
Five minutes later he was looking at Master Chief Gioninni. “Master Chief, I need you to find someone aboard Implacable who wants to make a deal.”
“There are a lot of unhappy people aboard Implacable, Admiral,” Gioninni said. “We’re talking to them on all kinds of unofficial channels. But they’re scared. What kind of deal are we talking about?”
“Someone who can make sure Implacable’s sensors aren’t working quite right, or if the sensors do work, making sure no one notices something coming their way.”
“And what can I offer? I start low, but some of them aboard that ship might be asking for major deals.”
That was a harder one to answer. “I don’t want to promise a free ride to anyone guilty of involvement with the killing of those sailors. That’s out of the question. See what you can wrangle with anyone else. If you think they want more than I’d be willing to give, let me hear about it and decide.”
“You can count on me, Admiral.”
Geary waited until Gioninni had left, then called Webb. “Colonel, you’ve got your wish. Start planning. Your unit will be going in.”
* * *
BUT then he had to wait. Webb was planning, Gioninni was cutting deals, a stealth shuttle had to be transferred to Boundless as part of apparently routine shuttle flights around the fleet, and it was necessary to plan the operation to coincide with “night” aboard Implacable so as few people as possible would be awake and moving around. Even when standing watches around the clock, humans needed the regularity of a day/night cycle. During the period when most of the crew should be asleep, most of the “special security force” should also be, and anyone awake should be at their watch stations rather than roaming the passageways.
A visit to his stateroom by Kommodor Bradamont was a welcome distraction from waiting while others did the tasks assigned to them. “Do you have time to talk, Admiral?”
“Right now it would beat worrying over things I have to let other people get done,” Geary said. “Have a seat. What’s bothering you?”
Bradamont sat with a sigh. “Colonel Rogero and I have been keeping a low profile while this mess with General Julian plays out. Anything we did or said might be construed as shoving an oar into Alliance matters. But the Alliance still holds a place in my heart, and it was very painful to see what happened aboard Implacable.”
“I think it shocked everyone,” Geary said.
“But I’ve seen that kind of thing,” Bradamont said. “Midway has been trying to change their system, but I’ve seen what happens when Syndicate ‘workers’ riot, and the officers wade in firing live ammunition to force them into compliance. What happens when Syndicate snakes battle crews who’ve had enough. And here was a version of all that aboard an Alliance ship.”
She shook her head, sadness apparent. “We think of the Alliance as a forever thing. We know it isn’t. Like a parent, who also seems to always be there, but one day won’t be. Hopefully replaced by something with the same aspirations, but maybe not. We don’t want to think about that. We want to think what we have is strong enough to stand against any challenges.”
Bradamont looked at him. “But then this happens, and very suddenly it becomes obvious just how fragile the whole thing is. How in the blink of an eye the wall separating us from the Syndicate vanishes and our own security agents are shooting our own sailors. And we see how a single person can break what we thought was unbreakable.”
“It’s not a single person,” Geary said. “That person always needs helpers. People willing to break important things. But they can be stopped, by people who see the value in those things, by people willing to listen to others and learn that maybe they don’t know everything they think they do. We’re going to stop General Julian. Not me. We. I could not possibly have done it alone.”
“Without you it might not have happened,” Bradamont said. “We might not have gotten this far. Julian might be commanding the entire fleet, starting a senseless war with the Dancers, using that as a springboard for more ‘emergency’ measures to curtail rights within the Alliance. Admiral, you may have needed the help of a lot of people, but without you those people might have lacked the leader they needed. What if you hadn’t been found when you were? What would have become of the Alliance?”
Geary tried to deflect the idea. “Tanya would say I was meant to be found when I was.”
“Maybe you were.”
“I can’t say.” Geary leaned back, trying to order his thoughts. “It bothers me for something of the same reason you spoke of earlier. The idea that the Alliance is so fragile that one person made the difference in whether it continued or ended makes me unhappy. It should be stronger than that.”
“People matter,” Bradamont said. “Individuals matter. That’s something the Syndicate never understood, still doesn’t understand. It sees people as tools. Interchangeable. Unless they’re a CEO, and then they’re unique and special and deserve all of the benefits denied everyone else. But it’s incredibly scary to know how much one individual can matter.”
“If I hadn’t been there,” Geary said, “maybe another individual would have stepped up. Or maybe enough other individuals. I guess what bothers me is the idea that only one person can save the day.”
Bradamont shook her head. “The idea that only one person can save the day is embraced by a lot of people, including people like General Julian.”
“Anyone who really thinks they’re that one person should be disqualified from being that person,” Geary replied with a wry smile. “I wish we’d been able to find out more about how the Dancers, and the Taon, and even the Wooareek handle such things. Maybe we’d have seen things that helped us figure out better ways to handle it.”
“Maybe,” Bradamont said, frowning a bit.
He thought he knew why. “How are negotiations going with the Dancers from your perspective?”
“Badly. We still get the ‘only talk to one’ response from the Dancers when we try to talk about Midway as separate from Alliance negotiations.” She gusted an ironic laugh. “That at least has had the benefit of convincing Donal Rogero that it really is the Dancers’ position and not something the Alliance set up. But it’s a nonstarter. Not just for Midway. Every non-Alliance human entity is going to want the right to talk to the Dancers.”
“I know.” He grimaced, remembering the Fortuna. “There has to be an answer. The Taon found it.”
“It feels like one of those special clubs kids make up, where you can only get in if you know the password, and no one wants to tell us the password.”
After Bradamont left, Geary fended off another call from Ambassador Rycerz wanting to know why Colonel Webb and his unit weren’t already gone from Boundless. At least that reminded him that he needed to send some Marines to Boundless to provide security while Webb’s unit was gone on their mission to Implacable. As simple as that sounded, it needed to be done in such a way that it didn’t look like Webb and his unit were being placed under Marine supervision. The crews of the new ships were still nervously watching everything that happened, wondering if they’d be punished despite assurances otherwise.
Webb himself provided the answer, at Geary’s prompting making an open request for some Marines to be placed on Boundless to take some of the strain off his soldiers. “We’re too small a unit for our responsibilities,” Webb had sent, knowing how many people would be listening in throughout the fleet. “Having some Marines around to assist would be a big help. Not too many. Say a platoon?”
“I’m sure we can free up a platoon,” Geary said. “They’ll be under your command.”
“Good. Send them over as soon as you can, Admiral. My guys need a break.”
The platoon of Marines selected by Carabali grumbled and complained right up until they reached Boundless, where they learned they’d be bunked in staterooms like those used by officers aboard the assault transports and eat the food prepared by the diplomatic-dinner-quality cook staff on the ship. In exchange for that, they were willing to accept working with ground forces for a while.
“Admiral, I got some good news,” Master Chief Gioninni said with a grin as he knocked on Geary’s door.
Geary checked how long it was before Webb’s soldiers were supposed to launch from Boundless. “Very good timing, Master Chief. What’ve you got for me?”
* * *
GIONINNI had made a lot of deals. “There are a lot of unhappy people after those killings. Most of them didn’t want much of anything. They just wanted to get back at those special security guys.”
One of those deals had involved minor adjustments to the sensor settings aboard Implacable during “routine maintenance.” On Geary’s display on the bridge of Dauntless, the stealth shuttle with all its protective measures activated was marked by a blob indicating its probable position based on tiny detections that hinted to its presence. On Implacable, nothing should show at all.
It was deep into ship’s night on board Implacable. Even keyed up by recent events, everyone should be tired. And everyone should be depending on their sensors to issue automated alerts if any danger threatened.
Veterans knew not to trust in automated alerts. They kept their eyes out for trouble. But a lot of Implacable’s crew were new.
Unfortunately, the only way to confirm that Implacable’s sensors had been “adjusted” as arranged was to send the shuttle in and hope it didn’t get shot at. Even a stealth shuttle would have a great deal of trouble surviving near a hostile battleship that could fill space with grapeshot.
“That shuttle is well within range of Implacable,” Desjani commented from her ship captain’s seat.
“How close would you let them get before opening fire?” Geary asked.
She considered the question. “I wouldn’t want them too close. People have been known to use automated stealth shuttles as bombs. I’d definitely open fire about now.”
Geary watched, tense, as the shuttle drew nearer to Implacable.
“We can see an access hatch opening on Implacable,” General Carabali called. She was monitoring the operation, linked in with Geary, visible in one of the windows on his display. “Right where it’s supposed to be.”
Another deal that, so far, seemed to be working.
“The shuttle should be reaching Implacable’s hull and docking right about now,” Desjani said.
A highly directional feed that should be invisible to anyone aboard Implacable sprung to life. That feed might have been spotted by sensors on another ship, but with Implacable isolated and alone, there was nobody else to link with her sensors.
Geary saw a view from inside the shuttle as Webb and his soldiers tumbled off and into the air lock beyond. Instead of battle armor, they were all wearing standard Alliance crew working uniforms that had badges identifying them as crew members of Implacable, and carrying bags that appeared to be normal carryalls.
A single sailor awaited them. “I disabled the hatch notification,” she told Webb, who wasn’t wearing a special rank insignia. “They shouldn’t have any idea this is open.”
“I need a system access panel,” Webb said.
“Right there.”
Geary watched Sergeant Hayden Quinn open the panel and plug in, working quickly. “I’m inside the ship’s internal surveillance system. Linked. Taking over. All it will show to those aboard is a repeat of the last two hours of saved data.”
“Link the real internal picture to the off-ship feed,” Webb ordered.
“Got it. Done.”
Geary saw a nest of new data appear in one corner of his display. Internal views from all over Implacable.
“I need confirmation of where the goons are,” Webb said.
“Hold on, Colonel,” Carabali announced. “I’ve got someone analyzing the feed you’re sending us.” A brief pause. “Confirmed. The data we got from the other ships is accurate. You’ll have to pull up the names of those in each compartment.”
