The Prisoner of Eldaron: Crimson Worlds Successors II (33 page)

“But I can assure all of you that those who have committed this terrible act will pay for it. Already, arrests have been made…and it has become clear that a terrible cancer has grown in our great society. It is difficult to imagine such evil, and worse to think of it existing all around us, but such is the case. And as your president, I swear now that I will see that everyone involved in this horror is held accountable.”

DeSilva gripped the edges of the podium and sucked in a deep breath, pausing as if he was fighting back a wave of sorrow.

“Our arrests have already begun to provide us information, and I regret to tell you all that we have found evidence of other plots planned or underway. I promise you now, each and every law-abiding citizen of Atlantia, that I will not rest until we have uncovered every root and branch of this evil, and I can step up to this podium and assure you all that there is no more to fear.

“But that day is not today, and now I must take the necessary steps to ensure the safety of Atlantia and its citizens. Effective immediately, martial law is declared. All assemblies of more than three people are prohibited. Enhanced surveillance protocols will be in effect. All elections, both local and national are hereby postponed indefinitely…

*  *  *  *  *

“It is done.” Asha Mazeri was alone, her room dark save for the small light on the com unit’s display. “Everything has gone according to plan.”

“That is good, Agent Mazeri. I am most pleased to hear this. Your involvement in the debacle with the
Carlyle
was of great concern to us. However, the successful delivery of Atlantia to our control is likely to pardon your earlier failure and restore your fortune.”

“Thank you, sir. I can assure you that Atlantia is ours.”

“Contact us again in three days with an update.” As usual, the com went dead immediately.

Asha breathed hard. She felt a cold feeling in her stomach. She’d been terrified every moment since the botched operation involving the STUs, and every sound had filled her with the terror that her assassins had arrived. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that any failure on Atlantia would be her last. The Black Flag did not easily forgive. Its demands were great, as were its rewards. Asha felt relief, but she also worried about her control over DeSilva. She had influence, certainly, but he was a loose cannon. She had handed him enormous power, and she was concerned how he would handle it. Would he be as pliable to her suggestions now as he had been? Or would he feel he didn’t need her as before?

That, she knew, would be a fatal mistake for DeSilva. The Black Flag could easily kill the president and replace him with a more pliable figure. But that would be her end as well. Indeed, DeSilva’s unpredictability wasn’t a real danger to Black Flag control of Atlantia. She had placed agents throughout the new government, even in the president’s security detail. The Black Flag could kill DeSilva with a single command. But another failure—and the need to bring in outside assistance—would be her end. She was sure of that.

She sighed and stood up, turning to look at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t seduced DeSilva yet. She’d planned to, but something had told her to keep some powder dry.

Perhaps now is the time. I must do everything I can to maintain my control
.

She reached up and undid two buttons on her shirt, wiggling around a bit until she thought she looked her best.
Time to congratulate the president…

Chapter 24

Main Assault Bay

Eagle One

Orbiting Planet Eldaron, Denebola IV

Earthdate: 2319 AD (34 Years After the Fall)

“Darius, you can’t do this.” Erik Teller stood amid the controlled chaos of
Eagle One’s
assault bay. Around him, hundreds of Black Eagles—combat units mostly, but also technicians, launch coordinators, and a dozen other types of support personnel—bustled around, performing their duties with a level of efficiency no other combat unit could hope to match. The noise was almost deafening, but a close inspection revealed that the entire swirling mass was a perfect image of organization.

“I have to, Erik.” Darius Cain stared back at his oldest friend and second-in-command. “And you know it.” Cain’s voice was calm, measured. But anyone who knew him understood just how stubborn he truly was. There was probably something in the galaxy more difficult than getting Darius Cain to back down once he’d made a decision, but it wasn’t anything that came to mind easily.

“But once we secure the planet…”

“Erik, stop. Don’t play dumb with me even if it is the only way you can make your argument. Nobody knows how smart you really are like I do. If my father is still alive—and yes, I realize that’s a huge ‘if’—I have to go after him immediately. Taking the planet, defeating whatever they have waiting to trap and destroy us, will require time. And it only takes a second to put a bullet in a prisoner’s head.” He turned toward his armor hanging on the rack against the wall, but then he paused and looked back. “You know I have to take them by surprise, do anything I can…”

Teller’s face was twisted into an uncomfortable frown. Darius was aware of his friend’s concern, both on a personal level and as the Eagle’s executive officer. But he also knew Teller truly understood, in a deeply personal way. Both men had lost their fathers in the war history had come to call the Second Incursion. But James Teller had been gunned down leading a desperate assault…and he’d died in front of three hundred of his own troops. There was no mystery, no nagging doubt about what had happened to him. But Erik Cain had been presumed dead in the destruction of the ship carrying him home. And now it looked like he might have survived, at least for some time after his reported death.

Finally, Teller just nodded. “I understand. But what about the Eagles? The assault? We need you.”

“The assault is planned out to the last decimal…and you can lead the main effort as well as I can.” He hesitated, then before Teller could object he added, “And don’t give me any nonsense that isn’t the case. Because we both know it is.”

Teller didn’t answer for a few seconds. Finally, he said, “I’m just nervous, Darius. We both know this is a trap. And there has to be some relationship with what happened on Lysandria and Eris. Even the disappearance of the lost platoon on Karelia.” He paused. “We shouldn’t underestimate whoever this is we’re facing.”

Darius stared hard into his friend’s eyes. “I don’t underestimate them, Erik. This will probably be the hardest battle we have fought…which is why I have obsessed over every detail. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make us as strong as possible. But you in HQ is the same thing as me in HQ. We built the Eagles together, old friend, and there is no one in the galaxy I trust as much as I do you. I’ve had a million doubts about this operation, but your role in it has never been one of them.”

Teller stood still for a moment, and he even managed to force a brief grin of sorts in response to Darius’ praise. But his expression darkened again, and he said, “Still, you know what a crazy risk you are taking. You’ll be in the middle of the enemy’s stronghold while a war rages all around you.”

“I won’t be alone. I’ll have the Teams with me.”

Teller frowned. “Two hundred of you…against a planet’s armies? Deep in their largest stronghold?”

“Our two hundred best, Erik. And every one of them a volunteer.” Darius had asked his troops from the Special Action Teams to join him in a raid intended to find and extract his father from captivity. It was a breathtakingly dangerous plan, made worse by the almost total lack of intel on Erik Cain’s location…or even any idea if he was truly still alive. Darius had felt guilty asking any of his people to join him, and he’d been stunned when every single member of the teams had not only volunteered, but had outright demanded to go…with such intensity he suspected he’d have faced the first mutiny in Eagles’ history if he’d refused to take them all. Darius had been almost speechless, touched deeply by the devotion of his soldiers.

“We’re not two hundred taking on all their armies…the entire Black Eagles corps is fighting here, not just a force of special operators. And when we’re through, whoever is behind this
trap
won’t know what hit them.” Darius realized he had slipped into his rally mode, the persona he adopted in battle to inspire his troops. He was surprised, as he often was, at just how effective his words often were…even with a grizzled veteran like his second-in-command.

Teller just nodded, but Darius could see the jolt he’d given to his friend, the blast of confidence. Erik Teller was a brilliant tactician, and not a single fact about the operation had changed. But Darius could see Teller was more energized. Ready to do what had to be done.

“Darius…” The voice came from behind him, and he recognized it immediately.

“Yes, mother,” he said, turning to face her. “What can I do for you?” He figured she was there to follow up on Teller’s argument, to urge him to stay in headquarters rather than drop right on top of the enemy’s main fortress. But she surprised him.

“I need you to tell your chief surgeon that I’m landing with the medical services.”

He paused for a moment, just staring back at her. “No,” he finally said. “Absolutely not.”

“Darius,” she said, her voice as firm and cold as his own, “I’ve been patching Marines and other soldiers together for more than fifty years. I’d wager I’ve made more combat drops than you or any other veteran you’ve got, so don’t tell me I can’t do my job.” She paused and glared at him with an intensity that revealed he hadn’t gotten all of his stubbornness and will from his father. “Because going down with the med teams is my second choice, and it’s taking all I have to stand back and let you go after your father without me.”

Her voice cracked slightly, but she maintained her gaze. “I haven’t been a combat Marine for a long time…and I know I’ll just distract you. And that will only get you killed…or your father, if he is really down there. But if you think I’m going to wait up here while thousands of soldiers are fighting to free Erik, you’re crazy.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but he closed it again. He realized she was right. She was his mother, and beyond that he carried a lot of guilt about how things had gone after his father’s disappearance. But she was a Marine, and by all accounts, the best trauma surgeon in Occupied Space. And she was a Cain.

“Very well, mother,” he said. “I will advise Dr. Lagrange at once.” His voice was odd, a touch of defeat in it perhaps, but also pride. Sarah Cain was ninety years old, but she was still every bit the Marine…and as much the source of his own inner strength as his father.

And he was damned glad she hadn’t insisted on going in with the strike team. He had an idea what an epic argument
that
would have been.

*  *  *  *  *

“They knew exactly where to hit us. Our anti-missile defenses are strong, but they are clustered around the cities and military installations. With the scanning net and coms down, we had no warning at all. Not until the detonations.” Colonel Matias Davidoff spoke firmly, confidently, though he still stood rigidly at attention. General Omar Calman was the supreme military commander on Eldaron, and he had a way of making everyone around him nervous. But it wasn’t Calman who threatened to shake Davidoff’s confidence. The veteran colonel was accustomed to reporting to the general. However the man standing behind was one he’d rarely seen in person—and had always feared.

“Our military equipment, at least, should have been shielded against EMP, Colonel, should it not?” The Tyrant spoke softly, with no hint of the rage everyone present knew he had to be feeling. “Can you explain why almost everything is dead—communications, scanners, transports, armored vehicles? Why is my army a disordered mess, crippled and panicked in the wake of a pending invasion?”

The Tyrant had managed to get control of himself since he’d left headquarters with Calman. He knew he was at least partially to blame for the blithering throng of sycophants that infested HQ, but now he found himself craving the company of capable subordinates, brave men and women ready to face whatever was coming…and he found them to be far too rare in his service.

But Davidoff was no coward, nor a brown-nosing yes man. He was nervous, that much was obvious, but the Tyrant suspected he would hear the truth from this man. And right now, the truth was what he needed.

“Excellency, our specifications for military equipment are quite clear with regard to shielding requirements…” The colonel’s voice trailed off.

“Yes, Colonel, I am aware of that. So, would you please enlighten me as to why, in spite of the specifications, nearly all of my military hardware has been turned into useless junk before a single enemy soldier has set foot on Eldaron?” His voice was hardening, rising in volume. He wasn’t yelling, not yet, but he was losing control over his frustration.

“Excellency, every order we have placed has corresponded with the specifications, but…”

“But?”

“That is not always what we receive.” Davidoff paused, and he swallowed hard. “Indeed, it is almost never what we receive.” Another nervous hesitation. “Excellency, you must be aware of the level of…corruption in some of the ministries. Procurement is perhaps the worst of all.”

The Tyrant could see Davidoff struggling to stand firm, to maintain his composure as he answered directly and firmly. Eldaron’s ruler did not like complaints or accusations against his cronies. Men had been killed for less, but now things had changed. The Tyrant felt an icy chill in his bones.
Darius Cain
was coming for him. The
Black Eagles
were coming. Indeed, they were already here. He had no time for profiteers and corrupt lords who worked him over with flattery while they were feathering their own nests. Not any longer. Now he needed hard men, fighters. He needed soldiers who could stand up and face an enemy like the Black Eagles.

The Tyrant stared back at Davidoff.
This is a brave man. I don’t know how many there are like him in my service, but I need every one of them now
. “You will take over the field command of the forces deployed around the citadel,” he said, noting the surprise in the officer’s expression. “And I am giving you your star, General Davidoff, to match the level of your new responsibilities.” The Tyrant turned toward Calman. “See that the newest member of our general staff gets everything he needs, General Calman.”