The Sunfire (23 page)

“What is this large unmarked area here?” Jon asked, pointing
to a large portion of the facility that was shaded out, only an outline existed
and it lacked the detail of the rest of the map.

“That is the restricted area,” Jason replied. “It’s off
limits to all civilians, only accessible to high level corporate executives or
those on an authorised entry list. Somewhere in that area we will find Sejanus
and the Emperor.”

“You can get us into that area?” Jon assumed.

“No.”

Jon looked up in surprise, as that was not the usual answer
he got from their resident computer genius. “Surely that's a no at the moment,
but given enough time
?
”

“That's a no, full stop,” Jason interrupted resolutely.
“That restricted area runs on a completely isolated network. It seems to be
hardwired and I have no way to access it. The authorised personnel list resides
on that network and it’s the only way we can get into that area. Unless I can
get into it, I cannot access such a list and we’re stuck.”

“Not a problem,” Gunny replied confidently. “We have the men
and the firepower, we could just assault that section. Give me thirty minutes
and we would have the entire area secured.”

Jason shook his head sharply. “We already discussed that
scenario back on
Terra Nova
. In the time it took to secure that area,
the Emperor could be moved to another location to be held hostage or, at worst,
simply executed. We need to get into the area undetected and determine the
location of the Emperor, secure him and then make our move. But how?” Jason
asked despondently.

Rubbing his jaw thoughtfully Jon reasoned out loud, “So we
cannot get our names on the authorised personnel list. Hence we would need the
guards to let us in.”

“We have no idea of the identities of any of the senior
Tyrell executives, nor what they look like, so I cannot see how we can
impersonate them,” Jason interrupted.

“Indeed, so we need to think of somebody that we do know the
identity of, that we can impersonate to get inside.”

“Like who?” Miranda asked curiously.

“I can think of half a dozen people off the top of my head,”
Jon confessed. “But they are all too well known.”

“For example?” Miranda asked frustrated.

“Sofia,” Jon shrugged. “I am sure a visit from the
Confederation President would be permitted inside. Marcus, were he not already
being held captive there, Admiral Sterling…” Jon trailed off as the thought
suddenly hit him. He gazed at Miranda with a broad grin spreading across his
face.

“What?” She replied, self-consciously.

“I’ve always been curious to know what you would look like
in an Imperial Navy uniform, I guess that I am going to find out. As for me, I
think a promotion is long overdue.”

*****

In the end they had been unable to find Miranda a navy
uniform, so instead Jon had to settle for one of her dark flight-suits, with
some subtle alterations to it, namely the addition of a Captain rank insignia
to the collar. Jon had changed his white navy uniform in a similar fashion,
promoting himself to an Admiral. Gunny and the rest of his team had shaved and
dressed in the uniform of Imperial Navy marines. Armed with pulse rifles across
their chest and a pistol at their side, they formed an escort around Jon,
Miranda and Jason, making the group an imposing sight. Certainly the guards on
duty outside the entrance to the restricted area were taken aback when faced by
a dozen heavily armed marines.

As they approached the entrance, the group came to a halt.
The guards and the marines eyeing each other warily across the distance between
them. After a few moments, an officer separated himself from the guards.
Approaching the group, his eyes lingered on the weapons prominently on display.

“Identify yourselves and your purpose,” the officer
demanded, the confidence in his voice betrayed by his trembling body.

The group was silent for a moment, until the marines parted,
allowing Jon to take a step forward towards the officer. His uniform gleamed,
the sword resting at his side even more so.

“Identify myself?” Jon demanded in a nasal tone of voice,
red faced in righteous indignation. “Do you not recognise me man? I am Fleet
Admiral Harkov, Commander of the Imperial 4
^th
Fleet,” Jon announced
for all to hear. “I demand entrance to see Sejanus, for we have important
business to discuss.”

*****

Sitting in the cramped quarters with Gunny, Miranda and
Jason, Jon had a bolt of inspiration. After all, who was the one person that
Sejanus knew, but would not recognise? Harkov himself had confessed during the
interrogation that he had only spoken to Sejanus and never met him. Sejanus
would not recognise the Admiral. All Jon had to do was try and impersonate the
Admiral’s nasal, high-pitched tone of voice. Harkov was now dead, but only Jon
and the senior staff knew this for a fact and so the real Harkov could not turn
up to dispel the illusion. Even better, Harkov had a valid reason to be there,
for Sejanus had demanded the death of Jonathan Radec and, if that is what he
wanted, that is what he would get.

After quickly explaining his idea to Jason, Gunny and
Miranda, they all thought he had lost his mind. Hence he had to talk quickly to
convince them. Pointing out that Harkov was the one person Sejanus knew, but
not by sight; it was the perfect disguise.

“What if Sejanus demands proof that you, Radec, is dead?”
Jason asked dubiously. “It’s not as if we can give him your head and we don’t
have any spare ones lying around,” he added morbidly.

“We have something better,” Jon replied with a smile,
flourishing his Valerian sword. “We simply state that the body was destroyed,
but we recovered his sword. It’s unique and cannot be copied. Even Sejanus
should be able to recognise a Valerian sword when he sees one.”

“You don’t think he is going to be a little suspicious if
you just turn up, at his door, by yourself, totally unannounced?” Miranda
questioned.

“I’ll have you, my pilot and Jason, my first officer with
me,” Jon replied confidently.

“Perhaps we can do one better than that Commander,” Gunny
voiced aloud. “For a Fleet Admiral would never travel anywhere without a
personal guard of honour.”

Hence a plan was quickly conceived.

*****

The officer quickly glanced down at his datapad, displaying
the list of authorised personnel, then back up into the red face of the
Admiral, and his group of personal guards, all eyeing him and his few guards
with barely disguised contempt. With a bead of sweat start to glisten on his
forehead he replied, “Please wait a moment.”

Twenty minutes later Jon was starting to get impatient,
wondering if Sejanus had called their bluff, but surely he would at least
wonder what the Admiral had to offer? His internal musings were interrupted by
the officer scurrying back.

Paling after glancing, once again, at all the weapons on
display and this time not even trying to hide the beads of sweat on his
forehead, the officer stopped a few feet from Jon and in a respectful tone
asked. “My master requests proof that you are who you claim to be and that you
have brought what was demanded of you.”

Jon glared at the young officer disdainfully for a long
moment. As if coming to a decision, Jon reached to his side and in one smooth
motion pulled the unique Valerian sword free of its sheath. Light reflected off
the blade as Jon wielded the beautiful, but deadly, weapon.

The officer took a step back in fear, his face turning a
further deathly shade of white, his eyes fixated on the blade frozen in
mid-air.

Jon glared at the officer, his eyes a flinty steel-grey
then, with a flick of his wrist, reversed the sword. Holding it now by the
blade, he offered it to the officer, hilt first. Taking a step forward towards
Jon, the officer grasped the hilt of the sword, pulling it firmly, but the
sword would not budge. Instead Jon took a step forward, still with a firm grip
on the blade, until the point of the blade was touching his chest and he was
almost face-to-face with the officer. In a deadly tone of voice he stated. “You
present this weapon to Sejanus, you tell him it was taken from what remained of
the body of Jon Radec.”

The officer nodded nervously and almost tripped over himself
trying to step away from Jon, but still Jon held the blade fast in his hand.

“One more thing,” Jon whispered in so quiet a tone of voice
the officer had to listen carefully to hear. “I will be wanting the blade back
afterwards, so guard it with your life. For your very life will depend upon it
being returned to me.”

Nodding furiously while Jon released the blade, the officer
shot backwards, tottering a few steps under the weight of the sword, which Jon
had been nonchalantly holding with one hand. With a final terrified look over
his shoulder, the officer disappeared through the reinforced doors.

Several minutes later the officer returned, minus sword and,
with a nod towards the men guarding the door, they stepped aside to allow them
through.

“All weapons must remain here,” the officer insisted
stiffly. “No weapons are permitted beyond this point.”

Jon gave him another flat stare, before turning to Gunny and
gave him a short nod. As the marines filed past the guards at the door, they
handed over both rifle and pistol before proceeding onwards into the restricted
area. The only delay came when Gunny reached the guards and the line was
delayed momentarily as Gunny proceeded to produce a small mountain of weaponry.

“Almost forgot,” Gunny replied with a toothy grin,
addressing the young guard who was staring in disbelief at the rapidly growing
pile. Reaching down into his boot he withdrew a six-inch, serrated blade.
Dropping it into the guards waiting hand, he leaned forward and under his
breath warned. “That’s real personal to me boy, as I killed my first man with
that and I’ll be wanting it back later, so keep it real safe for me.” Without a
glance behind, he stepped through the imposing doors.

“You, with me,” the officer pointed his finger at Jon. “The
rest of you that way,” he pointed down a different corridor. “Accommodation has
been made available for you.”

“I’m not leaving the Admiral’s side. His protection is my
responsibility,” Gunny insisted belligerently, daring anybody to disagree.

“She also comes with me,” Jon pointed to Miranda
authoritatively. “I don’t trust your hired guns to keep their hands to
themselves and nobody touches what is mine,” he gloated.

The officer looked uncertain for a moment, before nodding in
compliance.

The rest of the team followed the guards down the side
corridor, while Jon, Miranda and Gunny followed behind the officer.

Miranda looked around curiously, trying to pin down what
felt different about this section of the complex. Observing the bright,
overhead strip lighting, spotless white walls and thick blue carpet, Miranda
finally realised this section did not have the old, run down, dilapidated feel
of the rest of the complex. It was obvious that whoever lived here spent
serious money on the upkeep and maintenance. Miranda was just about to comment
on the change of surroundings when they finally arrived at their destination.

The door was unassuming, except for the two armed guards
stationed on either side of it. The guards tensed at their arrival, but seemed
to relax after a moment when the officer stepped forward and had a quiet word
with them in low tones that Miranda was unable to overhear. Finally with a nod
of understanding they stepped aside and the door slid open, permitting their
entrance.

Without even glancing at the guards and with his head held
high, Jon stepped through the portal, Miranda and Gunny only a step behind. The
comparison was startling, as if they had stepped over a threshold into a
completely different world.

*****

Jon quickly scrutinised the room, taking everything in with
a single glance. From the thick blood-red carpet underfoot, to the rich
tapestries hanging from the walls. The room was brightly lit, but unlike the
rest of the complex, which had stark neon lights, delicate chandeliers hung
from the ceiling to illuminate the room. The whole apartment reminded Jon
instantly of the Emperor’s personal apartments on the now destroyed
Imperial
Star
. The similarity was eerily familiar and immediately filled Jon with a
strong sense of foreboding. The length of one side of the room was taken up
with an imposing desk, similar to the one in Jon’s own office. The surface of
the desk was barren except for the sword resting upon it and Jon knew
instinctively that it was his own.

However, Jon did not linger on any of these items for long,
as his gaze was immediately drawn to the figure seated behind the desk. Their
gazes locked in an instant and immediately Jon knew that they were in far, far
greater trouble than he had ever expected.

Rising to his feet, Sejanus stepped out from behind his
desk, coming face-to-face with Jon as only a few meters separated the two. Of
roughly equal height, Jon had no trouble looking the other man in the eye, noting
the dark mop of hair, similar to his own. However, Sejanus’ eyes were a dark
brown, almost black in their intensity compared to his own grey. Everything
about the man was dark, from the short, trimmed beard, to the black uniform
that he wore. He seemed to absorb all the light that was around him, like a blackhole.

However, it was not his physical appearance that troubled
Jon, but his poise, the way that he held himself. With a straight back,
shoulders held high, head at a slight angle easily taking in the scene in front
of him, just as Jon was doing. Sejanus projected an air of casual arrogance, of
basic superiority, totally self-confident in the fact that everybody was his
lesser, nobody his equal. It was an aura that only somebody who had climbed to
the very top of the mountain of mankind and been able to cast his gaze down
upon the multitudes below could emanate. It was a feeling Jon was intimately
familiar with, the aura of invincibility that only a Praetorian could radiate.
Jon did not even need to glance down at the man’s waist to know that his sword
would be resting there.