Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10) (8 page)

“I understand you’re giving another briefing tomorrow,” she said, after a moment.  “Can we insert another false fact into the briefing?”

“Of course,” the Colonel said, dryly.  “Just make one that will definitely attract attention.”

Kitty nodded, then looked down at the transcribed message they’d intercepted.  She’d tried to narrow the suspect list down still further, but she had to admit she’d failed utterly.  The spy seemed to have an odd set of priorities; there were some military titbits buried in the message, yet most of it was centred on politics and political relationships.  Apparently, Councillor Hammond and Councillor Burton were having an affair.  It would be embarrassing if the affair was revealed, Kitty was sure, but it would hardly be disastrous ...

Or would it?  Hastily, she pulled up the voting records and ran a comparison check.  Councillor Hammond and Councillor Burton had voted together seven times in the last four months, which meant ... what?  Did they agree with each other or was one changing his vote to please the other?  And if so, what did his constituents think of it?  Hammond was married, if she recalled correctly, and colonists tended to be more intolerant of adultery than Earthers. 

Maybe the information is meant to imply blackmail
, she thought. 
But it wouldn't really cost them anything beyond their posts if it became public ...

Colonel Stalker cleared his throat.  “Do you have anything else for me?”

Kitty blinked, feeling her face heat.  She always lost track of everyone else in the room when she was considering the puzzle in front of her.

“I’ve been working on trying to eliminate as many suspects as possible,” she said, “but I have not been able to eliminate more than a handful.  Councillor Martin’s son
may
be a POW, sir, but as we have no way to exchange prisoner lists with the Wolves there’s no way to be sure.”

“Councillor Morrison asked me about the POWs,” Colonel Stalker said, slowly.  “Could she have been influenced by him?”

“She may well have several constituents who have lost people to POW camps,” Kitty said.  It wasn't something she’d considered, but she made a mental note to add it to her list of possibilities.  “Someone with a potential hostage in enemy hands could be our spy.”

Colonel Stalker frowned. “How many people would that include?”

“From the senior leadership?  It depends on the factors,” Kitty said.  “There’s several politicians who have relatives who may be in POW camps - I can give you a list, if you like.  Then there’s people who have friends ... you would be on that list, sir.  Brigadier Yamane was your protégée.”

“I see,” the Colonel said, tightly. 

He looked down at the transcribed message, then shook his head.  “I have work to do, so I will be back tomorrow,” he added.  “Let me know if you manage to isolate a suspect.”

Kitty looked at the files as he left the office, closing the door behind him.  The encrypted message still struck her as odd, as if the writer was more used to thinking in terms of politics than military affairs.  But there were only a handful of people on the council who had any pre-independence political experience, if one counted the Crackers as politicians ...

But they weren't
, she thought,
not really.  Internal insurgency politics are very different from the Empire’s politics ...

“Maybe it isn't someone on the military oversight boards,” she muttered.  “Just someone on the political side alone.”

She turned to her list of suspects and started to work her way through the facts.  The Commonwealth had never bothered to collect vast amounts of data on each citizen, which left her with tantalisingly little to go on.  Her handful of agents were collecting information as fast as they could, but there were simply too many gaps in the datafiles for her to say anything for sure.  She wasn't even certain just how many of her suspects had children, let alone where those children actually were ...

“It must be someone who thinks he can benefit from us losing the war,” she mused, slowly.  It narrowed the list of suspects, slightly.  “Someone who thinks he can make himself useful to the enemy.  Someone in a good position to collaborate.”

One by one, she worked out a list of suspects.  Gordon Travis had a good reason to hate the Commonwealth ... and, as a wealthy and capable businessman, had a proven track record Wolfbane could use.  So did Morrison and Malevich ... and around thirty more, all of whom had to be considered suspects.  All she could do was wait and see which false piece of information was forwarded to the enemy.  That would allow her to narrow the list of suspects considerably.

She shook her head, tiredly.  Until then, she could keep tracking their movements.  Perhaps one of them would make a covert visit to a data centre, one suitable for inserting a message into the transmitters.  It would be nice if one did ...

But she had a feeling that it wouldn't be anything like that easy.

Chapter Eight

This caused problems for anyone intent on following the laws of war.  Was the man looking at the advancing troops from a distance, wearing civilian clothes, a spotter calling in long-range fire or merely a curious civilian?  How were they meant to respond when it was clear that the opposing side was pretending to be civilians right up until the moment they opened fire?

- Professor Leo Caesius. 
The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

Meridian, Year 5 (PE)

“There are worse places to stay, I suppose,” Stewart said.

“I suppose,” Jasmine agreed.  They’d spent two days in the hut and, despite herself, she was growing impatient.  The longer they remained at large, the greater the chance someone would notice they were missing from the camp.  “But I would like to be on our way home.”

She sighed, then looked at the paper books they’d been given to read.  The scout manual was tame, compared to the marine survival guides they’d been forced to memorise as recruits, but the guidebook to Meridian had contained a great deal of useful, if outdated, information.  In some ways, she could see the attraction of settling down on a colony world, well away from the Empire’s mainstream.  But it wouldn't have lasted indefinitely.

“They’re checking us out, I suspect,” Watson said, from where he was leaning against the wood.  “They may feel we’re spies ourselves.”

Jasmine nodded, ruefully.  If two days weren't enough to convince the resistance to help them, she wasn't sure what she could do.  They’d have to break free, then make their own way to the spaceport, something that would ensure they’d be hunted by both the resistance and the occupation force.  And the resistance would know the lay of the land much better than any of the Marines.  She hadn't failed to note that they hadn't been given precise maps of the countryside.

“Or trying to determine if they dare help us,” she agreed.  “They’re totally naked if the bastards decide to start dropping rocks from orbit.”

She gritted her teeth.  She’d always felt sorry for civilians caught in the midst of war zones, particularly the ones who had come out of hiding to help the Empire’s forces.  They tended to be abandoned to the tender mercies of their fellows, once the Empire had completed its mission - or at least claimed the mission was completed - and withdrew its forces.  There had been times, early in her career, when she’d wondered why
anyone
dared help the Empire, knowing they would be left to their fate.  Perhaps they’d dreamed of a better life without the insurgents who’d made their lives hell.

“It could be worse,” Stewart said.  “We could be running around the countryside, completely naked.”

Jasmine had to laugh.  “Yeah,” she said, as she heard someone at the door.  “We could be naked.”

She rose to her feet as the door opened, revealing Darrin.  He’d spoken to them once or twice since they’d been asked to stay in the hut, but he hadn't known anything particularly useful or informative.  As a first-gen immigrant from Earth, he probably wasn't trusted completely by the locals, no matter how much he’d done to prove himself.  The planet’s home-grown culture would probably have responded badly to newcomers from Earth, particularly someone they regarded as useless.

But they made him part of the resistance
, she thought. 
They must have some faith in him
.

“Clarence will be along in a few minutes,” Darrin said.  “I think he finally received word from higher up the chain.”

Jasmine nodded.  She wasn't surprised that there was more than one resistance cell on the planet - and that the lines of communication were rather vague.  The Empire had plenty of experience in cracking resistance networks that were strictly hierarchical, simply by capturing one member and then working their way up the chain.  A diffuse network had more chance of remaining intact, once the counter-intelligence goons got to work.

But they might also have differences of opinion
, she thought, sardonically.  The Crackers had split after the peace talks, with some factions deciding to fight on rather than accept a share in power. 
One cell might want to go in one direction, while another might have different ideas. 

“That’s good to hear,” Stewart said.  “And Kailee?”

“She’s recovering, very slowly,” Darrin said.  “She didn't have an easy time of it here.”

Jasmine was mildly surprised.  In her experience, the Earth-born tended to be immensely selfish and utterly lacking in empathy.  For Darrin to concede that someone had had a hard time ... it said good things about him, she decided.  But then, if half of Kailee’s story was true, he and his friends had all had to grow up in a hurry.  And one of them hadn't made it.

“Being trapped for so long couldn't have been good for her,” Stewart agreed.  “Make sure she gets plenty of support and encouragement.”

The door opened again.  Clarence stepped into the room, looking tired.  “There was some disagreement on how to proceed,” he said.  “The short and final answer was that you could proceed, as long as we are not implicated in your scheme.  We won’t risk the planet just to get you and your fellows home.”

“You have a choice between helping us and having the Wolves breathing down your necks for the rest of your lives,” Watson said, sharply.

Clarence gave him a sharp look.  “When your side has a fleet of starships in the system, you can talk to us,” he said.  “Until then, I am disinclined to risk my family and friends on a mad scheme to break us free of an interstellar power.”

Jasmine nodded.  “We understand,” she said, shooting Watson a warning glance.  No matter what they did, Wolfbane would eventually notice that
something
was wrong and send a ship to investigate.   At that point, if the Wolves decided to blame the planet’s settlers, Meridian would be hammered into rubble from orbit.  “We will make them think we were acting alone.”

“Good,” Clarence said.  “It’s a minimum of five days from here to Sabre, assuming we stay away from the main roads.  We’ll escort you down to the city and then let you sort out your own plans.”

“We will need Kailee’s help,” Jasmine said, after a moment.  There was just too much to learn in too little time.  “And her boyfriend too.”

“If they are willing to help, they can,” Clarence said.  “But again, we cannot risk being implicated in your actions.”

“Blame everything on the Earthers,” Darrin said.

“I intend to,” Clarence said.  “And I am sorry.”

He looked back at Jasmine.  “We have food, drinks and packs for you,” he said.  “I think you should depart as soon as possible.”

Jasmine nodded.  They hadn't seen the sun since they’d been asked to stay in the hut, but she was fairly sure it was early morning.  Good; they could make a solid start on the march before they holed up for the night.  It wouldn't be anything like as bad as route marches and death trails on the Slaughterhouse, she was sure.  They’d need tents to keep the rain off their heads while they slept, but they had practice in carrying plenty of weight. 

“I’ll get them organised,” Darrin said.  He smiled at Jasmine.  “Kailee and I will be coming back to the city too.”

The settlement looked deserted when Jasmine emerged, blinking rapidly, into the sunlight and looked around.  There had been young children, all scouts, playing in the village; now, they were all gone, along with most of the adults.  A pair of men wearing jungle camouflage watched them closely, Clarence and Austin were standing with the doctor, but no one else was in sight.  It was clear the resistance had largely decided to abandon the settlement, just in case.  Jasmine felt a pang of guilt, which she ruthlessly suppressed.  Meridian’s only hope for freedom lay in help from the Commonwealth.

“I should have an intelligence packet waiting for you when you arrive,” Clarence said.  “We have been gathering intelligence on the enemy, but ... most of it is arguably useless.”

“We’ll see,” Jasmine said.  She’d been taught there was no such thing as useless intelligence, but she had her doubts.  Information on enemy terrain or political geography was always useful, yet other intelligence briefings had been definitely useless.  Who gave a damn about the environmental impact of an engagement two years ago?  “It might be quite helpful.”

“Check the packs,” Clarence ordered, as he indicated where they were lying on the ground.  “If there’s anything else you need, let us know now.”

Jasmine nodded, then picked up and opened her pack.  It felt surprisingly light to her, after a lifetime of carrying full combat loads from place to place, but it held everything she could imagine needing.  There was a small selection of ammunition, plenty of ration bars, flasks of water and purification tablets, just in case they needed to drink from streams or ponds.  At the bottom, there was a small medical kit.  It was surprisingly comprehensive - and packed in waterproof packaging.  She had a feeling they were going to need it.

“We arranged for a number of rifles to ... go missing from a nearby farm,” Austin said.  “The owners have gone into hiding, so if anyone checks it should look as though you raided the farm, killed everyone and took whatever you needed.  I would advise you not to talk about that with anyone else, though, if it can be avoided.  Shooting bandits on sight is considered perfectly legal.”

Jasmine made a face as she took the hunting rifle and checked it, carefully.  Living off the land was one thing, but stealing from civilians quite another.  They’d been told, more than once, that there would be times when they would have no choice, but she’d never liked the idea.  They might wind up stealing seed corn or vital - and irreplaceable - supplies from helpless men and women.  And, once they got into the habit of stealing, they might never be able to break it.

“Thank you,” she said, instead.  She pulled her pack over her back, then tested it carefully.  It definitely felt lighter than a standard combat load.  “Shall we go?”

“One moment,” Darrin said.  “Kailee’s just getting ready.”

“Make sure she takes her pills, every time,” the doctor warned.  “She’s on the verge of simply giving up completely, something made worse by her lack of proper food.  I think she will get better once she has a few dozen meals inside her, but right now she has little to live for.”

“Gary will be glad to see her,” Darrin said.  “I know he hasn't strayed in the years since she was taken.”

Jasmine smiled as Kailee appeared, looking thin and pale in her jungle outfit.  Her eyes were firmly fixed on the ground, as if she didn't dare look anyone in the face.  Jasmine sighed inwardly, noting how she shied away from the men.  It might well be a long time before Kailee recovered from her imprisonment.

“Walk with me,” Jasmine said.  She had to seem appallingly unfeminine to the younger girl, but at least she was a woman.  “The others can lead the way.”

“Of course,” Austin said.  “I will take point; Darrin can bring up the rear.”

Jasmine kept a sharp eye on Kailee as they walked out of the settlement and down a half-hidden trail, concealed from orbital sensors by the jungle canopy.  The gloom descended rapidly, casting the trail into shadow; she couldn't help glancing around, even though the guidebooks had reassured her that there were few dangerous animals apart from packs of feral dogs.  Austin set a good pace, but she’d been forced to walk harder and faster on the Slaughterhouse.  But then, they weren’t being chased by an opposition force this time.

“I could almost enjoy this walk,” Stewart muttered, as he dropped back to pace beside Jasmine.  “But we could go faster.”

“I think Kailee won’t be able to keep up with us,” Jasmine said, practically.  If worst came to worst, someone could carry the girl, but it wasn't something she would have preferred to do.  “Besides, we are going to be walking for several days.”

She glanced at Kailee, then withdrew into her own thoughts.  There were plenty of options for when they reached Sabre, but she didn't know enough about the situation on the ground to pick one.  What were the occupation forces doing?  Did they know four of their prisoners had escaped?  In truth, she knew it would be impossible to answer those questions until they reached the city. 

And if they are on the lookout for escapees
, she thought,
our task will become much harder
.