Red Angel (17 page)

"Tac, fire when ready," Sharat barked as she
looked to me.

"One missile penetrated fighter bay two. Two
fighters destroyed, six dead, four wounded. Bay not operational," I said
while posting the incoming reports on the overhead damage monitor.

"Six missiles away. Time to impact, twelve seconds,"
Commander Karlton, the Weapons Officer, said with a predatory grin on his face.

"Damn, three hits but none look to have caused
major damage." Staggs said. "We're barely gaining on that ship. She's
up to four hundred gravs."

Forty seconds later, Karlton’s voice sounded harsh.
"Six missiles away. Time to impact, eleven seconds."

Ten seconds later.

"Four missiles incoming. Time to impact, thirteen
seconds. Reload time, one minute thirty seconds," Salas said while his
fingers danced over his keyboard. "Shit."

The Tityus took two hammer blows that made my teeth
rattle. Kris looked pale. I felt relaxed. No, I felt focused, as did the crew.

"Environmental section damaged. Three dead, four
wounded. System at seventy-five percent capacity. Additional damage to fighter
bay two. Two dead, two injured," I said, listening to the damage reports
coming in and feeling their pain.

"Three more hits on the unknown merchant. Looks
like we got her this time; she's trailing debris and slowing slightly."
Staggs’ voice was an octave higher with excitement.

"Six missiles away," Karlton said a minute later, and fifteen
seconds later, "Damn, four incoming," Salas said angrily as his
fingers danced over his panel in an attempt to stop them. "Four
hits," Staggs said, then louder, "They've lost power."

The Tityus shuddered again. I assumed Salas had stopped
all but one this time.

"Missiles tubes one and two disabled. One dead,
four injured," I said into the silence.

"Comm, connect me to Commander Givens."
Sharat said, staring at the damage-reports monitor. Givens’ face appeared on
the communications monitor. "Givens, release your fighters. Approach
cautiously and take no chances. They don't have anything to lose, so they're
dangerous. Keep me informed."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good work, everyone. We were too close for
military grade missiles, and they must have had military grade ECM to avoid
fifty percent of our missiles. I'll stay farther back next time. We know they
can't outrun us, so more separation will give us more time to evade their
missiles." Sharat sat back and closed her eyes.

"Commander Givens, call your fighters back, all
but one or two. Have them maintain a watch at a safe distance of at least one
thousand kilometers."

"Why, Captain?"

"If anyone is alive, I believe they will destroy
the ship. They are just waiting to take some of us with them to hell."

* * *

Four hours later, we were relieved, and Kris and I
headed for our rooms. Kris waited as I showered and changed into a clean
uniform.

"Now what do you think of cruiser duty?"
Kris asked, still feeling apprehensive and having fits of shaking.

"Kris, you have a life in front of you. I don't.
It doesn't matter what my job or profession is. Red is unlikely to live eighty
years, and he is a magnet for thieves and Coaca Virus victims and probably a
few nuts with some wild theories. While I'm alive, I'd like to do as much good
as I can. A cruiser isn't a bad place."

"Nor is the NIA," Kris said, giving me a
hug. "I for one am glad they don't want you. I'd prefer you on the project
team with me. You feel like my younger sister, and I'd worry myself sick if my
sister were on a cruiser." She laughed. "I'm hungry. Let's go get
something to eat."

"You're right. The NIA is probably the best place
for me. We're making a difference and helping to do some good, and I have
minimum exposure to people."

"While you were sitting around doing nothing on
the Bridge," she grinned, "I was looking over those messages you gave
me. I think you're right. I'd say that petty officer is trading information for
drugs. And I'll bet he's not the only one."

In the dining area, I could feel the clash of
emotions: exhilaration at having caught the drug runners and sadness at the loss
of friends and comrades. Halfway through our meal, our CPCs buzzed. When I
opened it, the captain's face appeared.

"Sinclair, Paulus, would you like to interview
the captain of the Spinner? I thought I'd like to meet him. Shuttle bay six in
ten minutes." She cut the connection. I stuffed another bit of meat in my
mouth and swallowed it with a gulp of my coffee-flavored milk as we rose and
hurriedly made our way to the shuttle bay. We arrived just as Sharat did,
boarded behind her, and were followed by ten marines. The ride was made in
silence. When we exited, a marine lieutenant was waiting.

"Captain, we have the merchant captain in his
conference room. His name is Sorrell. If you'll follow me, ma'am," he said
a led us to the room. Inside, a chubby man sat nervously wringing his hands.

"Captain, I appreciate you saving us from the
pirates, but your people seem to think we had something to do with them. We
were almost victims," he said, wiping sweat from his face with a checkered
scarf.

"Lieutenant, can I borrow two of your men? And
I'll need one with explosive experience to meet me in the missile
compartment." He looked to the captain, who nodded. I made my way to the Bridge,
switched the weapons panel into simulation, and went through the motions until
the active light turned green. Then I made my way to the missile compartment,
where a middle-aged sergeant stood waiting.

"... Ma'am, you requested someone with experience
dismantling explosives?"

"Yes, Sergeant. Would you please remove the
warhead cover of that missile on the delivery train?" I pointed to the
missile. He stared at me and then the missile and finally shrugged. After
examining the missile for a few minutes, he began removing the cover. When it
came off, he stood there and laughed.

"I imagine this stuff would blow the head off
some lads, but wouldn't do much damage to an enemy ship."

"Corporal, would you and your mate carry that
stuff back to the conference room? The captain of the Spinner probably has an
interesting story to go along with it."

"I'd sure like to hear it," the sergeant
said as the two marines collected the packages and followed me back. When I
entered the conference room, I pointed to the table and the marines dropped the
packages there.

"Look at what I found," I said, enjoying the
look on Sorrell's face.

"This does appear to make your story less
believable," Sharat said. I could feel her amusement.

"One of the crew must have—"

"Sorrell. I have twelve dead and fourteen wounded
because of your friends, so I'm not in a mood for games. What was the name of
that other ship, and where was it registered?"

"I don't know—"

Sharat slammed her fist on the table so hard the
coffee in her cup splashed over the lip. Then she stood looking down at
Sorrell.

"Lieutenant, did any marines die in our
engagement with this captain's friends?"

"Yes, ma'am. Two died and two are in critical
condition."

"Do you think he'll survive the trip back to
Westar?"

"If he's real lucky ... but then his luck does
seem to have run out."

"And you, Lieutenant, have you found that damn
krait yet?" She turned to look at me. Her tone was harsh, but I could feel
her amusement. I reached inside my blouse and pulled out Red. "It likes
people, well, some people." I rested my elbow on the table close to
Sorrell. His eyes flew open, and he tried to push his chair away, but the
marine guard behind him stopped the chair.

"I found it, Captain. It didn't bite
anyone—this time." I said indignantly.

"Damn good thing. For bringing that damn snake on
board, you can stand guard duty over Captain Sorrell—"

"The ship was called the
Wind Witch
and was registered in the FPU," Sorrell said in a
rush. After that, he became very cooperative, explaining the code they used,
pickup and drop-off procedures, and a list of his contacts. When Captain Sharat
appeared ready to quit, I thought it a good time for my question.

"How do they warn you when Alliance warships are
in the area?"

"They don't. They just don't show for the
scheduled meeting and eventually schedule another one."

"How do they know when Alliance warships are in
the area?" Sharat asked, sitting back down.

"I don't know. I've heard rumors that they have a
network of spies who work with our customers. More codes, I guess."

"Lieutenant, you can have the prisoner. Make sure
he and the others are delivered in one piece," Sharat said as she rose and
waved for me to follow.

"You were very helpful, Agent Paulus. That was
good timing with the contraband. Took all the fight out of him and saved hours
of talking. And your red-headed friend was very helpful. Sorrell obviously
dislikes snakes as much as me. I was afraid for a moment he would have a heart
attack. And Lieutenant Sinclair was right when she said she wouldn't wager
against you."

* * *

"How did it go?" Kris asked when I returned
to the room. She had been searching the Spinner for anything useful while the captain
interrogated Sorrell.

"We're back in her good graces, thanks to
Red," I said.

"You threatened the merchant captain with Red?"

"No, but Sharat insinuated that Red gets loose
and as a punishment for bringing him on board I would guard the prisoners.
Sorrell, the merchant captain, couldn't stop talking after that, even confirmed
the smugglers have a network of spies on the planets that report on warship
deployments."

"You just confirmed something that has been
bothering me. I had wondered how the smugglers got the information to the
merchants. Unless the captain is lying—"

"He's not," I blurted. If he had been lying,
I would have felt the deception. He was telling the truth as he knew it.

"I'll take your word on it. That means the
smugglers have a separate organization they are in direct contact with. Find
that, and we'll have destroyed their organization." Kris's voice rose with
excitement and her eyes sparkled. She laughed. "And we'll be the darlings
of the NIA and have bragging rights for our entire careers."

"You're right. I also thought they gave the
merchants the time and location for these pickup meetings, but that would be
far too complicated and coordinating it next to impossible. They have some
central point of contact that gives them real-time information. Now, at least
we know what we are looking for."

"You ... we might be getting more cruiser time
than you anticipated, because the WavComs have got to be involved," Kris
said, and I knew she was right. We sat discussing what we might be looking for
in the way of messages. We agreed we would know it when we saw it—or at
least we hoped we would. Late the next day on first shift, we reached the Wave
entrance and the WavCom.

"Comm, send the following message to Admiral
Rawls:

Using the NIA
coordinates for the arranged pickup meeting with smugglers at Fire Rock, we
intercepted a merchant ship with military grade engines and weapons
rendezvousing with the merchant ship Spinner. We crippled the spaceship, but
were unable to board, as they subsequently destroyed their ship. We learned
from the Spinner captain that the ship was called the Wind Witch and registered
in the FPU. We are returning to Westar along with the Spinner to make repairs
and have our dead returned home and the seriously wounded hospitalized for
further treatment. Signed, Captain Sharat commanding the UAS cruiser Tityus.

"What do you think about the captain inviting us
to dine with her this evening?" I asked when we got back to my room.

"Sounds like we are on good terms again, or she
may be wanting the coordinates for the next smuggler's drop-off." Kris smirked.
"I liked Rawls’ idea of parking the Spinner out of the travel lanes and
sending a cruiser to pick them up. The longer we can keep the smugglers in the
dark, the better chance we'll have of locating their communications network.
Rawls probably gave orders to destroy the Spinner afterward."

"Or park it in some geocentric orbit around some
uninhabitable planet," I said. "Seeing how Sharat doesn't like spooks
and snakes, it should be interesting." We arrived at seventeen hundred
hours and found Commander Tillman had also been invited.

"As you know, I don't like spooks, but you two
have been a pleasant surprise. And it's nice to have the regular navy and the
NIA working together. It makes you real people rather than spooks."

"Unlike my fellow agent, I'm not crazy about
being on a cruiser, although it has been interesting," Kris said. The XO
laughed.

"Based on our success, I'm afraid you may be on
the Tityus for an extended period of time."

"It does appear that way."

"Admiral Rawls was quite pleased with us, not
only for catching the smuggler ship, but for warning the Romulus and Scylla of
the threat the smugglers' ships represent. So, where do you suggest we go now?
Maybe you can find us another planet not in the others’ area of responsibility
for us to explore." Sharat produced a devilish smile before taking a drink
of her wine.

"Skipper, the crew could use some planet-side
leave in Westar," Tillman said while watching Kris and me.

"No!" I said. "Sorry," I quickly
added, since it had sounded like I was in charge. Tillman glared at me; Sharat's
look was neutral.

"Why?" she finally asked, while appraising
me against some unknown standard. Kris answered, which I thought a good idea. I
still needed to be more thoughtful in my responses.

"We believe the smugglers have a communications
network in the Alliance that allows them to make almost real-time decisions.
The merchant captain more or less confirmed our suspicions. When agent Paulus
reviewed the crew’s pending messages to Westar, she noticed a couple of
messages that resembled the coded messages the smugglers use to inform the
merchants of pickup and drop-off sites and times. She and I found one which we
subsequently managed to decode."