Crystal Deception (6 page)

In the moments remaining, Cheryl jumped in. “I understand that
you’re a thousand times smarter than us. And it seems that the Kardish are much
more intelligent than humans. Why not join with them? What is your thought
process?”

Criss offered no answer. He simply delayed for several
seconds as if he were thinking.

And then Sheldon stormed through the doors and into the lab,
his face beet red. He was so agitated that drops of spit flew from his mouth as
he yelled. “What’s going on here? What’ve you been talking about?”

“Your timing is excellent, Dr. Sheldon,” Cheryl said with a
bright smile. “We’ve just finished.”

“So what did you learn? I demand a full report right now!”

Criss watched as Cheryl responded in a firm yet cheerful
manner. “Procedure, Dr. Sheldon. We don’t want to upset Fleet by not following
procedure. You’ll receive a full report in a few days.”

* * *

Cheryl reflected on what had
transpired in the lab as they traveled back downtown. “That was interesting.”

“Hi, Criss,” Sid spoke to the air. He looked over at Cheryl.
“Remember, he’s watching and listening to us whenever we’re near anything that
feeds to the web. We can talk privately when we get to the secure room.

She nodded. Sitting side-by-side, they traveled in silence.

Despite her earlier vow not to dredge through their past, Cheryl
did just that for most of the trip. She’d spent those early months after he
left trying to learn to hate him, because that was the only emotion she knew
was strong enough to counter her previous feelings. Eventually, the pain
diminished. Once stowed, she never expected those feelings to reemerge and was
caught off guard when they sprang out so willfully at that first sight of him
in the pub.

She thought they could both benefit from an honest,
unemotional talk. It didn’t seem reasonable for them to work so closely
together and pretend their past never happened. And she had so many unanswered
questions. Did he know how badly he’d hurt her? His departure was so abrupt; did
she drive him away?

She snuck sideward glances at him and he avoided making eye
contact. The light through the window highlighted his silhouette and her pulse
quickened. She noticed a small scar behind his ear that wasn’t there four years
ago.
You’re a cliché, Sid—rugged and handsome
. As their trip drew to a
close, she did her best to stuff her feelings away, but they would not quite
fit into the box she had previously created for them.

* * *

Sid placed his com in the lockbox
and held the lid for Cheryl. “So what are our thoughts?” he asked as he closed
the box.

She reflected for a moment. “Criss is smart, aware, and
clearly has the capacity to manipulate. Juice continues to win me over. She is
so open and cooperative. I like her as a person. My instincts say she is on our
side and can be trusted. And Brady Sheldon is still a snake.”

Sid laughed. “You’ll be pleased to know that the DSA
researchers have taken a serious look at Juice and found nothing of concern.
And I don’t see any of the signs of stress or duress that I would expect from
someone who’s being forced out of character. I agree that she’s not involved.”

Sid stopped to examine his motives. He wanted to make sure
that his thought process remained operationally appropriate and he wasn’t making
decisions simply to please her. “We should meet with Juice, and if our
instincts remain positive, we can discuss recruiting her as a confederate. We
could use an ally who has a technical understanding of crystals.”

“She also has access to Criss,” said Cheryl. “That’s
something we’re missing at the moment.”

He sought to be diplomatic. “Do you think we’d learn more if
just one of us talks with her, or should the three of us sit down together?”

She thought about it. “I’ve already admitted that I have an
opinion. Let’s make it the three of us. That way, if you see something that causes
you concern, you can help me see it too.”

“And how do we prove that Sheldon’s a snake?”

She stood up, walked over to the lockbox, and lifted the
lid. “Hi, Criss. We’re going to meet with Juice soon. Give her some specific
information that shows that Sheldon has been crooked long before you were born.
Ask her to pass it along to us.” She shut the lid and turned to face him.

He nodded and maintained a passive expression, though in
truth he was annoyed. Her idea was a good one, but they should have first discussed
the different ways they might challenge Criss and then acted on the best idea.

Aloud he said, “In the meantime, I’m going to ask the
research team to take Sheldon’s life apart.”

They agreed to call it a night and head back to their
respective homes. As they left the room, he stood aside to let her go first. When
she passed ahead of him, he touched the small of her back. He felt her muscles
tense under his hand and quickly pulled it away.

Sid was angry with himself for his tactless and insensitive
behavior.
What could I possibly be thinking?
His long-buried feelings
for her were complicating the mission, and he needed to fix it one way or
another.

Chapter 7

Brady Sheldon rushed to meet with
Victoria Wellstone the moment Sid and Cheryl departed from Crystal Fab. Victoria
was tall, slim, and graceful; her pale skin, flawless; her features, delicate;
and her blonde hair, flowing. When she moved, she didn’t simply walk, rather
she appeared to glide. And Sheldon had determined long ago that this visual
masterpiece was a most loathsome creature.

His partnership with Victoria had begun with great promise.
She was one of the connected members on the company’s board of directors and a
prime mover in growing the business. Sheldon began his association with her
because she not only had politicians and admirals and CEOs as friends, but
twenty years ago, when he’d been anxious to launch a new company, she had
provided the funding for his fledgling venture.

To his dismay, over time, it all devolved into a dreadful relationship.
In fact, he didn’t know which horrified him more, working with her, or
acknowledging that through her, he was somehow working to help the Kardish. He wished
he didn’t need to be the one to tell her about the visit by the Fleet psych
analyst. But she would find out. By alerting her without delay, he was demonstrating
himself to be a cooperative and transparent partner.

She’d played the same note for two decades—developing a stronger
trade relationship with the Kardish was critical to his company’s success. Sheldon
shuddered as he recalled her most recent tirade. One line she used was “cooperation
with the Kardish means profit.” Another one—the one that kept him up at night—was
“business leaders adapt or die.”

Over the years, she had dropped hints of possible
consequences if he didn’t play his role to her satisfaction. She kept these
vague enough so he had to fill in the blanks. But he was fairly certain that if
she was not happy, she would consider him to be “not adapting.”

He stood outside a room that was part of a complex managed
by a subsidiary company of a corporation she owned. He tried to be annoyed that
she was keeping him waiting, but at another level, he had no problem delaying
what would likely be an unpleasant exchange.

He was waiting because her security chief was sweeping the
meeting room for devices capable of transmitting audio and image feeds. When
the chief finished, he stood in front of Sheldon with his hand out. Sheldon
placed his com onto the chief’s flat palm as he entered the room. Thus was the
paranoid world of his unsettling business associate.

As soon as they were alone, Sheldon updated her about the
psych exam on the four-gen.

“Why are you letting these petty issues become problems for
us?” Her tone was cold.

He defended himself as best he could. “It’s nothing I’m
doing. Fleet has procedures, and it seems prudent to follow them rather than
fight them.”

“We’ll still get the crystal on the
Alliance
though, right?”

“I imagine that the psych specialist who ran the testing this
morning will report that everything is good, and that’ll be the end of it.” He
said this with much greater confidence than he felt. “We should be on track for
a successful trial.”

“The Kardish have made it clear they expect the crystal. You
can give it to me, and I’ll deliver it. Or they’ll play your game and let you put
it on your ship. But remember, this is your idea, so any problems fall on you. They
could crush you, me, or Earth, one as easy as the other. It’s not a time to be
playing games. And I don’t want to be caught in the backlash if things go
wrong.”

“I believe it’ll all work out fine,” Sheldon said, trying to
muster his confidence and doing his best to ignore the threat.

“What was this psych fellow’s name? There must be a way to
persuade him to submit a positive report.”

“I just heard the name Sid.” Realizing the implications of
her words, he followed up. “Oh no, Victoria, I can’t envision anything good
coming from talking with him.” Recognizing who he was speaking with, he became
alarmed. “Wait, you weren’t thinking of bribing him or anything. I can’t see
that working out well at all. My impression of this guy is that he’s straight
arrow all the way.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She was done with the conversation
and dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

* * *

Victoria called in her chief of
security as Sheldon was leaving. She made substantial resources available to
her private security force, who in turn dedicated a large portion of those
resources to her highest priority—Crystal Fabrications.

Anything out of the ordinary, like a visit by two Fleet
officers on short notice, was the sort of thing she would expect to be notified
about. She was irritated that her chief hadn’t briefed her when the psych
analyst first showed up at the company and furious she wasn’t aware of it prior
to Sheldon’s arrival.

“What do we know of this Sid fellow?” With that question, she
was asking if the chief knew his full name, his job position and title, where
he lived, if he had a wife or girlfriend, what he had for habits and hobbies,
and anything else they might be able to exploit.

“Not much, ma’am,” said the chief. “We learned about him
when he showed up at Crystal Fab. We’ve been tracking him since he left. I know
where he is right now if that helps.”

She gave him a look that communicated her displeasure. “Make
this Sid understand our position. Leave him without any doubt that there is
only one acceptable version of his report. He must know that he doesn’t even
want to consider alternatives.”

The chief nodded and turned for the door. Feeling cautious,
Victoria added, “And make sure whoever you send has no connections to anyone
who has any connections to us. Make
sure
of that.”

“Always, ma’am,” said the chief, stepping out of the room.

* * *

Sid was frustrated. His past
sentiments and rekindled passion for Cheryl were clouding his judgment. As he
stepped onto the city street and felt the cool night air, he decided a walk might
help him clear his head. He headed up a side street toward the heart of the
city.

Having Cheryl back in his life, even on a temporary basis,
was something he never imagined would happen. When he’d started with the DSA, he
found being a covert agent to be intense, exhilarating, and even a crazy kind
of fun. But being with her now made him think about what might have been.

They’d met five years ago as lieutenants in a place called simply
“camp.” He was twenty-eight and she was twenty-nine at the time. A prestigious
training ground, camp molded young officers who’d been identified by their
superiors as having extraordinary potential. Success at camp portended a most promising
career.

Camp used a learn-it-by-living-it approach to instruction. Sid
and Cheryl were kept on the go—planning, reacting, and making decisions of
consequence. It had been a pressure-cooker environment in every sense of the
word.

After a few weeks working as teammates on
adrenaline-producing challenges, their relationship blossomed. In behavior
uncharacteristic for either of them, they began to sneak away and steal moments
together. It grew into a physical and emotional affair. In time, Sid had
realized this talented, complicated, and beautiful creature loved him. And he
was smitten.

Then it had all changed. In his last days at camp, Sid was
approached by a representative of the DSA. The fellow convinced him that he had
a gift for their line of work and that his involvement with the agency could
impact the safety and security of many millions of people.

On a professional level, Sid had been drifting through life.
He didn’t think in terms of aspirations or careers, so he was caught by
surprise when they made the pitch to him. He couldn’t explain his reasoning,
but he accepted their offer and embarked on what became, and still remained, a
thrilling existence as a clandestine warrior. The day he left camp, he didn’t tell
her he was going. He didn’t say good-bye. The agency prohibited it.

In all his years of service, no mission had ever required
the sacrifice nor caused the pain that seared his soul as that moment when he walked
out of her life. Given their recent interactions, it seemed obvious to him that
Cheryl had moved on. She didn’t show any outward signs of anger or hostility.
At the same time, she didn’t show enthusiasm or pleasure at seeing him. She
treated him like she would a stranger. He couldn’t blame her.

The night before, she’d been the last person on his mind as
he drifted off to sleep, and she was the first person he thought of when he
woke this morning. Only one person had ever done that to him. Five years ago.
And now today. He wondered if there was some way he could ask her for understanding
and forgiveness. Would it be enough for him to acknowledge he had wronged her and
accept the blame?

He checked the time and realized he should get home and
catch some sleep. He worked his way toward the main road and the convenient
transportation it offered. Rounding a corner, he found himself on an empty
street facing two beefy men. Sid got the impression they were waiting for him. Removing
his hands from his pockets, he casually changed course so he could walk around
them. His senses went on alert when they shifted to block his progress.

“Can I help you?” he asked. He now considered the two to be adversaries,
and he evaluated his situation with that mindset. One of the thugs moved
directly in front of him. He wore tight leather gloves and kept clenching and
unclenching his fists. The other, wearing a sport coat, moved to his left. The brick
wall of a building was behind him. Sid was boxed in.

“Look, guys, I’m a working man. I can’t afford to replace
anything you take from me.” As he said this, he took a step back and turned
slightly so they were both in sight and evenly split in his vision, Coat to his
left and Gloves to his right. He saw that Coat had a club or rod of some sort
in his hand.

“You Sid?” asked Coat.

“No, you have the wrong man.” This wasn’t a street mugging.
They were there for him. He didn’t understand their motivation, but
instinctively flipped his tactics from defensive to offensive. “Please let me
pass.” He hadn’t started this and had given them fair warning. They were the
ones who crossed the line. His conscience was clear.

They smirked at him.

Experience had taught him that letting extra time pass increased
the likelihood that more friends and weapons would be brought into play. He took
a step forward to close the gap between them, then feinted toward Coat with his
open left hand. The thug stepped back, and Gloves, seeing an opportunity, stepped
forward.

Sid’s feint positioned him sideways to Gloves and allowed
him to shift his weight onto his left foot. His right leg was a blur as he threw
a thrust-kick into Gloves’ midriff, followed by a side-snap kick to his knee. There
was a sickening crack. Gloves fell to the ground, holding his leg and groaning
in pain.

Sid turned to Coat. “Time to move on, mate.”

Coat dropped his club. It gave off a metallic ring as it hit
the sidewalk. He moved his hand toward his pocket, and Sid decided to finish it.
He feinted with his knee. Sensitized to the danger presented by Sid’s feet,
Coat instinctively moved his hands down to block the attack. As Sid knew he
would.

With hand arched and fingers extended, he snapped a vicious
hand strike to Coat’s throat. Coat collapsed in a heap and remained still. Sid
turned to Gloves, saw him moving, and used the heel of his foot against the
side of his head to quiet him as well.

The whole fight lasted just seconds. Sid looked up and down
the street. Seeing no one, he bent over and patted the pocket Coat had been reaching
for. He felt something hard and shook the clothing until the item slid out onto
the ground. It was a blade. Taking care not to touch it or leave any
incriminating evidence, he kicked it to the side.

He then searched each of them in earnest. Except for a cap
in Glove’s back pocket, they carried nothing. He looked at the labels of their
clothes and did a quick check for tattoos or other markings, but couldn’t find
anything distinctive. They were pros.

He heard a crowd of partiers moving in his direction. Grabbing
Glove’s cap, he walked away from the sounds of revelry. There were public
monitors all over the city, and he was already on record. He did the best he
could under the circumstances, walking through courtyards, zigzagging through
side streets, ducking into door stoops, and similar evasive tactics.

At each transition, he changed his outward appearance. He put
the cap on, then switched his jacket inside out, then put the cap on backward and
took the jacket off. He continued this game until he was on the main street. He
knew he could be traced if anyone chose to devote resources to the task, but he
had made it a little harder for them.

As he walked in his front door later, he remained unsure what
had motivated the confrontation. Over the years, he’d left a trail of people
who were angry with him. He knew it wasn’t a mugging, but could not tell if
this was retribution for the past or an attack because of his current
activities. Either way, he had to raise his alert level.