The Lost Stars: Imperfect Sword (38 page)

“They not only had that information,” Drakon said, “they based their plans on having that information. The entire trap was constructed assuming that they would be able to time the arrival of their reinforcements to just before we arrived, and to have CEO Boucher’s flotilla show up just early enough to conceal itself behind a gas giant. That information couldn’t have been provided by someone who watched us depart. They couldn’t have gotten the information to Ulindi in time.”

Drakon had hunched forward, tapping his forefinger forcefully on her desk to emphasize his words. “The Syndicate source must have known our date of departure as soon as you and I had settled on it. Anyone could have seen the preparations, but no one could have known when we would actually get moving for the jump to Ulindi because that exact time depended on a lot of factors and a joint decision by you and me. Given the time needed to get that information to the Syndicate at Ulindi and wherever else their forces were, and the time needed to land those Syndicate soldiers and get their flotilla in place, there simply wasn’t enough time for them to do it unless that date was dispatched to them within a day of when we made the final decision.”

She let frost enter her voice. “Are you implying something about me?”

He frowned, momentarily puzzled by the question. “You? No. That . . . never occurred to me.”

Either he was a much better actor than Drakon had previously shown, or the words were sincere. But Iceni still felt angry and defensive. “Then what are you saying?”

“That someone very close to you or me must have fed that information to the Syndicate.”

“Who on your staff knew the exact date of departure that early?” Iceni demanded, trying to keep Drakon on the defensive.

“Colonel Malin, Colonel Kai, Colonel Gaiene.”

“
Not
Colonel Morgan?”

“How could she have known? She was already at Ulindi when we made the decision, and had been there for weeks.”

Iceni managed to stifle her disappointment. The momentary hope that Morgan could be a prime suspect in the trap was running headlong into simple questions of time and space that definitely eliminated her as a suspect. “But the information she sent us was woefully incomplete,” Iceni pointed out.

“It was,” Drakon agreed, some defensiveness entering his voice. “The files we captured when the Syndicate staff abandoned the divisional headquarters confirmed that CEO Haris himself wasn’t even in the loop on the trap. He, and Ulindi, were dangled as bait for us. We didn’t guess that the Syndicate would completely cut Haris out of their plans, but then we didn’t guess that Haris was really still working for the Syndicate.”

“It should have been obvious,” Iceni said, her voice sharp, seeing Drakon’s defensive glower deepen. “Oh, I’m not pointing the finger at you for that, General. I share plenty of the blame. Haris supposedly made himself independent from the Syndicate but took along the entire snake apparatus at Ulindi? All of it intact?”

“A charismatic leader could have done that,” Drakon said. “Do you want to know what the files we captured said about the Syndicate source at Midway?”

Iceni tried not to stiffen, wondering what bomb Drakon was about to drop. “What did they say?”

“Nothing.”

It was her turn to glower. “Did you really want to see how I would react to the implication that those files contained important information?”

Drakon closed his eyes, speaking slowly but still with force. “I was at Ulindi, pinned between two enemy forces, knowing that the odds greatly favored my entire force’s being wiped out, and knowing that I had led them there.”

Iceni leaned toward him, letting each of her words drop like a hammer. “Do you actually believe that I would have set you up that way? That I would have conspired to destroy not only you but two-thirds of the professional ground forces available to this star system? Do you think I am that
stupid
?” Because, she realized, that was what was bothering her the most. She could be ruthless. She could double-deal. But weaken her own future prospects by that much overkill? “If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you and kept all of those valuable ground forces soldiers. Do you really think I am that
incompetent
?”

He had opened his eyes and was staring at her, then abruptly laughed. “Oh, hell, you think I suspect you? You personally? Why the hell would you have sent the battleship to save the day if the whole trap had been your idea to begin with? No, I don’t think you’re stupid or incompetent, but I think someone close to us is playing both of us and wanted
me
dead.”

She eyed him, thinking. “Yes. The plan would have led to your death. As well as the deaths of Colonels Kai, Gaiene, and Malin. Only Colonel Rogero of your senior staff would have survived.” Her mind whirled down new paths as it considered possible scenarios. “He would have replaced you, General. Colonel Rogero would have been the senior ground forces officer, commander of the only loyal professional soldiers left to me. He could have faked that assassination attempt aimed at him.”

Drakon, instead of getting defensive again, just shook his head. “For security reasons, I didn’t tell Rogero the departure date. He didn’t need to know it.”

“He could have learned what it was. He must have sources. It would have been as simple as chatting with Gaiene when he was drunk.”

“That’s true.” Drakon finally sat back again, watching her. “But I can’t believe it. Donal Rogero. If he could so cold-bloodedly plot to murder me and two-thirds of the others in the division, along with Conner Gaiene, who was his friend, then he’s so good at being a snake that I don’t know how I survived this long.”

She grimaced, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially since he could have very easily died when he exposed himself to the crowds along with his soldiers. That action would make no sense if he intended to survive as your successor.” Iceni took a deep breath. “Which leads us back to my side of the table.”

“I am confident that Kommodor Marphissa is loyal,” Drakon said.

“As am I. Not all of the former Reserve Flotilla members have been fully screened, but none of them had access to the departure information early enough to have alerted the Syndicate.”

“Who does that leave?” he asked.

Iceni tapped her desk surface lightly to cover up the turmoil inside her. “My personal assistant.”

“There isn’t anyone else?” Drakon said, startled.

“Not on my end. We kept it to those who needed to know until the ships actually started moving,” Iceni said.

“Where is your assistant?” He looked around, his hands moving in ways that she knew must be readying the hidden weapons and defenses built into his uniform.

“I don’t know.” She met his surprised gaze with her own level look. “Mehmet Togo disappeared shortly before the mobs took to the streets. I have not been able to find out anything regarding him since that time.”

Drakon twisted his mouth, looking into the distance. “Your Togo struck me as someone who would be pretty hard to take out.”

“Extremely hard. If someone did eliminate him, they must be a very dangerous threat.”

“If?” Drakon asked. “You think he may have chosen to go into hiding?”

“I don’t know.” She indicated her desk. “I’ve taken the precaution of resetting every password and access that Togo knew. I’ve also reset the passwords and accesses that Togo was not supposed to have known.”

“If he gave that information to the Syndicate—”

“I know!” Iceni calmed herself. “But he can’t be loyal to the Syndicate. If that were so, he would have tipped them off before we revolted. Neither one of us would have survived. And, if he wanted only you dead, all Togo had to do was pass word of
your
plans to the late and unlamented CEO Hardrad early enough that my own involvement could have been covered up.” She chewed her lip, gazing worriedly at Drakon. “Togo knows a great deal. There are means available to extract information from even those capable of withstanding standard interrogation methods.”

“If he’s not choosing to give that information freely,” Drakon said. “But those means of forcibly extracting information that you’re talking about don’t leave anything recognizably human behind.”

“I know that. I also know that they are not foolproof, and can sometimes destroy the information they seek, and so even the Syndicate rarely employed them. But I can’t disregard the possibility. Perhaps Togo betrayed me for reasons I don’t know. Or perhaps the information he carried was harvested. I don’t know. I am bending every effort to locate him.”

“Colonel Rogero didn’t mention being involved in that.”

“I haven’t asked the ground forces to assist,” Iceni said, waving a cutting gesture of denial with one hand. “It seemed to be a purely internal matter.”

“It might have been until we learned someone fed the Syndicate information,” Drakon said. “I would like to inform my staff. Your assistant knows a lot of my secrets, too, secrets that I shared with your office.”

“Damn.” Iceni slapped her forehead. “Codes. Togo would have been able to gain access to some of your codes as well. Yes. Yes. Tell your workers so they can take the necessary steps to protect your data and networks.”

Drakon frowned downward, then back at her. “If your assistant did have a deal with the Syndicate, they were going to betray him. The Syndicate plan included a quick follow-on attack here. Wipe us out at Ulindi, then bring all of those soldiers and CEO Boucher’s flotilla here to hit you before you had any warning.”

She inhaled deeply, taking in that information. “CEO Boucher would not have shown any mercy to me or anyone else no matter what deal Togo might have made. Togo was involved in enough executive actions to know that the Syndicate has a history of making many promises to turncoats, publicly hailing them, then privately eliminating them to ensure that they could never turn their coats again. Though we still don’t know that he betrayed me. Why disappear if he was certain that you would die at Ulindi?”

“I hope you won’t mind my remaining suspicious,” Drakon said with obvious sarcasm. “Speaking of secrets being spilled, how did you find out about the trap at Ulindi? All Freya and Bradamont knew was that you had received some highly credible information.”

“CEO Boyens told me.” She saw the immediate skepticism in him. “It was a matter of self-interest.”

Drakon snorted. “That makes it plausible. I wish Boyens had coughed up that information before I left.”

“I made it clear to him how disappointed I was,” Iceni said.

“Is he dead? Or just wishing he was?”

“Neither. Yet.”

“I might want to have a personal talk with him about it,” Drakon said. “His little game of withholding information almost cost us everything.”

“You don’t have to emphasize that to me.” She looked down at her hands. “Until
Midway
came back with the news of your survival, of your victory, I spent some time coming up with imaginative means of making Boyens regret not speaking earlier. But here you are. Still in one piece. Coming home with more soldiers than you left with, and more ships than you left with. You really are amazing, you know.”

Drakon sat back, giving her an enigmatic look. “If you really believe that, perhaps you’ll explain something else that I’m curious about.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I had some time to talk to your Kommodor.” Drakon cocked his head to one side, still gazing at Iceni. “She said she got a text from my command that told her we had taken the base, and needed some help with the Syndicate troops attacking us from the outside. But there’s one thing about that message that I don’t understand. Kommodor Marphissa said she knew the message was authentic, and not a Syndicate trick, because of a code phrase it contained. A code phrase that she said President Iceni had provided to a few trusted people to use in emergencies.” Drakon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at Iceni. “Your Kommodor thought I was the one who had sent the message with the special code phrase in it. Only, I didn’t.”

Iceni managed not to reveal her feelings.
Damn. This is going to be awkward. And right after I protested against him suspecting me of anything.
“Really? Who did?”

“I don’t know. But I’d like to know.”

She sighed and held up both hands in mock surrender. “Colonel Malin. It must have been him. I had, purely as an emergency measure, given him one of the code phrases.”

“Why Colonel Malin instead of me?” Drakon asked. He sounded and looked curious, not angry, but that meant nothing. When he really wanted to, the man could hide his true feelings as well as any CEO.

“I could lie—” Iceni began.

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

That had come out with more force than Drakon had probably intended, Iceni thought. “—but I’ll tell you the truth,” she continued smoothly. “I wanted a backup. I knew that Kommodor Marphissa would accept something that she knew was from you. But you were going into battle. Something might have happened to you. I wanted Colonel Malin to have a means of letting the Kommodor know that he could be trusted.”

Drakon studied her, looking perplexed. “You trust Colonel Malin? When did that happen?”

“Over time,” Iceni replied with a shrug.

“Even after you found out he was Morgan’s son and had kept that information from me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know what the hell to think of that.”

Iceni met his eyes. She didn’t have to pretend to be speaking the truth as she continued. “Artur, I felt confident that Colonel Malin would not betray you. If Colonel Rogero had been going along, I would have given him the code phrase, but he stayed here. It was about ensuring that Kommodor Marphissa would know when a critical message was authentic, and it worked as intended. Without that code phrase, she could not have learned the situation on the ground in time to intervene as she did.”

Blowing out a long breath, Drakon sat back again, his eyes hard. “I would have preferred knowing. As it is, even though it indeed worked very well, it feels like a measure taken not as insurance for me but insurance against me.”

“That’s not true.” Iceni surprised herself with the heat of her reply. “It was not based on any fear of you, or distrust of you. But I thought if you knew Colonel Malin had the code phrase, it would cause you to distrust him, or anyone else with such a phrase.”