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She nodded. ‘Understood, sir.'

‘And I suspect you can guess why I want this off the record?'

‘We might have another mole in UNSEC?'

‘Exactly. They – whoever
they
are – did it once, so they can do it again. Where better to do it, in fact?'

‘Agreed – but we don't actually know that there is another mole, do we, sir? We know how Teixeira was tipped off – and it wasn't one of us, was it?'

‘Not that we know. Who rigged that alarm system in Teixeira's comp? Maybe he did it himself – he was apparently good enough with a computer to set it up, even inside ten days – but we've got at least half a dozen others in the Team who are as good as he was, if not better. And what worries me is that we're looking at a classic intelligence cut-out – we've found absolutely nothing in Teixeira's quarters or belongings to give us any indication what his mission even was, or any contacts he might have. We don't even know who he was working for. Ferreira assumes it's EarthCorp, but he seems to think they're Evil Incarnate anyway – there's nothing to say Teixeira wasn't working for New Dawn. There's stuff on his comp that Simunic is still trying to decode and apparently, he's worried that it contains a self-destruct element – you know, type in the wrong password and the data erases itself permanently. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to stop us finding out
anything
at all about what Teixeira was up to – a thoroughly professional set-up, in other words. I'm even wondering if we were
supposed
to find Teixeira in order to distract attention from the real agent – did we find him suspiciously easily?'

‘So who's behind it, you mean, sir? Is he really a lone penetration agent, or is someone running him locally?'

‘Which would make more sense?'

She nodded reluctantly. ‘Locally – just in case something went wrong, or they needed to change plans.' She stared glumly across at him. ‘And we – UNSEC, that is, we're the professionals, aren't we? So we're all under suspicion.'

‘We have to be. I don't like it any more than you do, Lieutenant, but, yes, we are – and don't think for a moment that Ferreira hasn't had the same idea, either. He'll be expecting us to investigate ourselves after this.'

She glanced meaningfully at the message on the comp screen. ‘So… why the secret conclave? How do you know I'm not the evil genius behind it all?'

‘I don't,' Vinter said bluntly. ‘But then, I'm not convinced anyone in UNSEC is necessarily our hypothetical spy master. I said this was a professional set-up, but are we the only professionals on board?'

Sondgren's face took on a startled expression, then she glanced again at the comp screen in sudden realisation. ‘Are you talking about Ferreira?'

‘Not him specifically, he's solidly Military, not Intelligence – but how much do we actually know about the people he's reviving over in One Delta?'

‘Sweet FA. They do seem to be very secretive about it all…'

Vinter shrugged. ‘Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there's no mole at all. Or maybe it
is
one of us.'

‘But you're telling me anyway.'

‘I don't actually think you
are
the mole – call it a hunch, whatever. And I know I'm not, but you'll have to take my word for that, but, between us, we've got to go through the UNSEC Team with a fine tooth-comb. It isn't going to be pretty – I'm pretty sure we've got to do the whole psych probe thing, like it or not.'

‘Oh, great… You mean sodium pentathol, digital polygraph mapping, EEC readings?'

‘The lot.'

‘They're going to love this, sir.'

‘I know. Which is why the first ones to be probed has to be first me, then you.'

She looked sharply at him, then nodded in resignation. ‘I suppose so… It's occurred to you that this might be exactly what
they
want? For us to waste time investigating ourselves when there's nothing to be found?'

He sighed heavily. ‘Yes, it has… I told you it has all the hallmarks of a classic disinformation operation. Transmit some meaningless signals to alert us, let us find a victim they planted back on Earth who actually knows nothing at all, he's programmed to kill himself, so he does, and we're left chasing our own tails looking for something that isn't there, all to distract us while the real intelligence operation is carried out. Only we can't do anything else but what we are doing, because we can't take the risk that there
is
another mole. They've got us by the gonads.' He grinned suddenly, ‘Well,
me
, anyway.'

She smiled in response, then nodded. ‘OK – so when do we start?'

‘It'll have to be tomorrow – we'll get Moreira to supervise the sessions, which means he'll have to be third in line, whether he likes it or not.'
And while we're at it, I'll get him to ask me who the hell Anji is…

*****

Vinter only realised he had dozed off when his phone rang, but he was instantly awake, snatching up the device from the table in front of him. The screen was blank –
unknown caller
– but he said ‘Hallo?' at the same moment as he pressed the key for ‘Record'.

‘Chris? It's Ilona. I don't have much time–'

‘What's the matter?' He rolled to his feet in one movement.

‘Listen – there's something going on over here and–'

Abruptly, the line went dead; Vinter stared at it for an instant, then pressed ‘Call back'.

It rang, just once, then went dead again, but this time with the ‘Unobtainable' tone. Almost before he realised it, Vinter was heading for the door, but some instinct made him scoop up his shoulder holster from the comp unit on the way past; he was checking the gun as he left his quarters, wondering at his own actions – he almost never carried a gun on duty…

It took him less than three minutes to reach Level One Delta, but it was more than enough time for him to think about the implications of what Ilona had said in her brief call – and why had it been cut off so suddenly?

Actually, that last part was easy to answer – someone had been monitoring the comms and had cut her off as soon as they realised what was happening. So what was happening in One Delta? What the hell was Ferreira up to over there?
Maybe I should have been asking a few questions about that before now, instead of chasing Teixeira…

Shit
… Had Teixeira been a decoy? Had he been found too easily after all?

And should I have called for back-up? Bloody fine time to think of that…

There were four soldiers on guard at the entrance to One Delta and they politely but firmly blocked his path as he tried to push past them.

‘I'm sorry, Inspector – you can't go any further.'

‘Listen, sergeant, I need to talk to Specialist Novaska as soon as possible. It has Alpha One priority.'

‘Again, I'm sorry, Inspector. Nobody is to enter or leave this section without signed orders from Colonel Ferreira.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Vinter saw the other three soldiers bringing up their weapons; they weren't quite aimed at him yet, but they could be within half a second. The thought crossed his mind that they used to be terrified of guns going off in aircraft, but that problem didn't apply in spaceships; the outside of the habitat cylinder consisted of at least a foot of armour plating, designed for dealing with cosmic debris, but equally effective at stopping bullets…

Suddenly, the sergeant put a hand to his earpiece, evidently picking up a message; he nodded. ‘Yes, sir, he's here… Roger that, sir.' He stepped back a pace, and nodded to his men, who instantly brought their semi-automatics up to firing position. ‘Would you please give me your weapon, sir,' said the sergeant, holding out his left hand; his right hand was already curled round the butt of his own weapon.

Spring forward, knock aside his gun hand with my left, right hand around his neck, spin him round to use as cover, grab his gun while the others are hesitating and cut them down in a straight burst of fire, right to left…

What the hell was he thinking of, for Christ's sake? But he had been tensed, ready to launch the attack before he had damped down the impulse – it would have been suicidal… Carefully, Vinter removed his own gun from its holster and held it out to the sergeant, butt first; the sergeant nodded briefly and took it from him. He spoke to the two soldiers behind him. ‘Ramirez, da Costa, you stay here. Shafran, you're with me.' He turned back to Vinter. ‘Inspector, you're to accompany us to the bridge. Consider yourself under arrest.'

‘On what grounds?'

‘I'm not at liberty to say,' the sergeant said, gesturing with his own weapon. ‘The bridge, please, Inspector.'

Bit of a waste of time asking,
Vinter realised as he turned and led the way to the bridge – the sergeant probably did not know the answer. He was simply obeying orders – Ferreira's.

Ferreira was staging a coup, that's what he was doing
– but on whose behalf? His own? What the hell was he thinking of?

Come to that, Vinter thought, what had
he
been thinking of, a few seconds later, with that impulse to attack four armed men?
Fucking idiotic, that's what it had been…

But the sequence had been so crystal clear in his mind, as if it had happened in slow-motion – and, for those few split seconds, he had been utterly convinced of his ability to carry it off…

Me? With my record in unarmed combat? ‘Satisfactory', wasn't it, the last time I was assessed – which meant ‘barely adequate' in reality – that was one of the reasons I got into the Investigation Arm as soon as possible…

Later on, what struck Vinter was the fact that the scene on the bridge when he arrived was almost exactly as he had predicted; the normal command personnel were in a group over to one side, with four armed guards watching them carefully. The bridge security team had been disarmed, but there were three uniformed officers on the deck, two of them motionless, the third with two medics crouched over her, rigging up a resuscitation unit with seemingly unhurried movements that belied their urgency; the medics were working as fast as they could. Ferreira was standing in front of Lahtinen's chair, eyes scanning the monitors on the Command Console; it was only when the sergeant prodded him forward that Vinter saw the third body at his feet.

Lahtinen.

Sprawled awkwardly at the foot of his chair, on his back, one knee raised, eyes staring sightlessly upwards, a mass of blood on his chest.
Shot resisting arrest
– that would be the official statement on this… The fact that he never wore a sidearm and so was completely unarmed would be completely ignored.

The bastards had murdered him – they'd never meant to capture him alive, that was all there was to it…

Ferreira seemed to become aware of his presence and turned to face him. ‘Vinter,' he said, no expression at all in his voice. ‘So there you are.'

‘What's going on?'

‘Isn't it obvious? This is a coup, Inspector. We're taking over.'

‘Who's we? New Dawn?'

For a moment, a flicker of surprise crossed Ferreira's face before he nodded. ‘Indeed.'

‘So that was why there was all the secrecy in One Delta – they were all New Dawn troops being revived – right? They'd been smuggled aboard before launch instead of our own.'

‘Very astute, Vinter.' Now, Ferreira's expression was more thoughtful as he stared at Vinter. ‘I'm beginning to wonder how much more you know. Not that it matters, not now.' His focus shifted to the sergeant. ‘Take him to the cells, Mardukian. If he makes any untoward move, shoot him dead – is that clear, sergeant?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘And is it also clear to you, Vinter? I'd rather keep you alive, as there are things I need to discuss with you once I have a little more time – and once you've cooled down somewhat. However, you are not essential to my plans, so please believe me when I tell you that Mardukian will indeed kill you if you cause him any problems. Is that clear to you as well?'

Vinter nodded. ‘I think I get the gist of it, yes.'

‘Good. Take him away, sergeant.'

Now why did Ferreira go out of his way to emphasise the fact that Mardukian will shoot to kill if I don't behave myself? Does he honestly think I'm going to try anything, least of all some death or glory heroics, until I've had a chance to evaluate the situation? Do I really strike him as being that stupid?

The holding cells were situated in Level Seven, only one level above the nil grav section in the centre of the ship; here, gravity was less than a quarter normal. It was entirely intentional – any attempt at escape would be hampered by the low gravity in that few people were used to moving around in a quarter gee, while the guards regularly trained under such conditions for exactly that reason. The moment Vinter saw the troops who had taken over the guard duties, he realised that Ferreira had foreseen this problem – they moved with a sure confidence, much more so than Vinter himself.

That'll teach me to stint on low-grav training…

Sondgren and Moreira were amongst those being processed in the Reception Area; for a moment, Sondgren's eyes met his as if waiting for an order, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly – they wouldn't stand a chance if they tried anything here and now. Moments later, the desk sergeant nodded to her guard and she was taken away; Moreira soon followed, his face angry, frustrated.

The sergeant glanced up at him and he made an entry on his comp pad. ‘Number Five,' he said succinctly to Mardukian.

‘This way,' said the sergeant.

‘Er… yes, I do know the way,' Vinter said, sarcastically, trying not to let his steps take him bouncing into the air.
Have to preserve some dignity, after all…