The Phoenix Darkness (41 page)

Tristan slowly seemed to come over to his
side of thinking. In spite of what sounded like long odds, one to
fourteen, so long as one weapon existed and it could be used to
threaten Ro, then it didn’t matter if the Rotham had fourteen
weapons or fourteen hundred; they couldn’t risk losing their home
world. “Very clever, sir, very clever. Well done.”

“You can congratulate me once I have the
actual weapon on board the
Harbinger
and
Mira Pellew
the hell away from me.
Then
you may applaud me for my
cleverness,” said Raidan.

“True, there’s always the chance Pellew will
abscond with the weapon,” said Tristan. Raidan was very aware of
such a possibility, which was why he was paying Pellew as
handsomely as he was. The man could live as a veritable prince
after this...Still, hearing the threat aloud, which remained a real
possibility, especially since Pellew had ceased to make his regular
check-ins, made Raidan extremely anxious and would continue to do
so until he had actual physical possession of the missile.

“I have Pellew under control,” said Raidan,
as much to reassure himself as to inform Tristan. “At least I have
every reason to believe so. Remember what we paid him to help you
on his ship, and then later to turn against his own Special Forces
division?”

“Yes. It was a significant sum, I
remember.”

“Well, that was
nothing
compared to
this.”

“Then I would say Pellew is not someone you
need to worry about,” said Tristan. “Well…at least
that
Pellew.”

“Indeed,” said Raidan, knowing all too well
how dangerous Mira Pellew was. Yet he couldn’t just up and
eliminate her, as yet, not any more than she could do the same to
him. The two needed each other still, unfortunately, and so long as
that need existed, no action could be taken against either one. At
least that was Raidan’s take on the situation. Because she had an
additional element of unpredictability, he still watched himself
around her and made certain to stay within relative earshot of his
most loyal officers at all times, just in case.

“How do you know Summers won’t just blow up
the missile while it is in transport?” asked Tristan.

“You’re smart to ask,” said Raidan. “I had
high hopes she could be made to see the value in having such a
weapon for its deterrence value. Unfortunately, Jason Pellew lacked
the diplomatic charm to persuade her. So…he had to capture the
ship.”

“You ordered him to take command of the
Nighthawk
?” Tristan sounded shocked, yet oddly pleased by
the news.

“Yes. If
and only if
it was necessary
to do so to protect the weapon.”

“Now I understand what you meant when you
told me you had
other arrangements
.”

“Yes. Jason Pellew and his soldiers, most of
whom came from my ship anyway, were my
other arrangements
.
I’d hoped not to use them but it seems Summers and her officers
gave us no choice,” said Raidan.

“Well bravo to them, I say, and to you,
sir!”

“You seem to be taking this news in stride,”
said Raidan.

“Well, I always thought that ship needed a
changeup in its command structure. Now, at least, we can rely on it
a bit more to do what we need it to,” said Tristan.

“I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“Why?”

“For one, I ordered Pellew to make certain
his actions appeared to be entirely unilateral. I don’t want my
involvement known. So long as that secret stays as such, I can turn
the ship loose again, under Summers, and have her do what she needs
to.”

“Ah…somehow I knew this would be about her in
some way,” said Tristan.

“Silence, I’m still explaining,” said Raidan,
annoyed. “If, however, the secret gets out, then Summers and her
crew will never trust us again. You can forget about them taking
any kind of action on behalf of the Organization ever again.”

“So what?” asked Tristan. “Just let Pellew
control the ship.”

“Pellew is a hired gun; a mercenary. His
loyalties are fluid at best, and he has no starship flight
expertise,” said Raidan. “The
Nighthawk
is a
state-of-the-art military intelligence frigate; she needs a
professional touch to handle her. Whether or not Summers uncovers
the truth of this matter and chooses to work with us again or not,
she shall retain command of the ship, at least until Calvin gets
back.”

“You know what you’re doing?” said Tristan.
“You’re protecting her.”

“I am not,” said Raidan, his face feeling a
bit hot. “Anyway, all of that's beside the point for now because I
have lost contact with the
Nighthawk
.”

“What?” Tristan sounded alarmed.

“It might be nothing,” said Raidan, hoping
that was true. “But Jason Pellew has stopped making regular
contact. We agreed to a schedule of check-ins and, as of the last
three, he's not made any effort to contact me.”

“Or perhaps he’s made the effort and they
just haven’t gone through,” said Tristan. “Communications
malfunction is one possibility.”

“Yes, and a good one at that,” said Raidan,
since he was essentially banking on that to be the case. And
thought it probably was the case.

“Why don’t you try to contact the
Nighthawk
from your end?” asked Tristan.

“I can’t do that,” said Raidan.

“I don’t see why not. You have a whole
division of officers who specialize in communications, just aboard
your single starship!”

“Think it through,” said Raidan. “Suppose I
attempt to make contact; there are two possibilities. Possibility
one: Pellew answers my hail, at which point it's obvious to the
captured crew I was behind it all. Or, if not behind it, directly
involved.”

“I see. And you
really
don’t want
her
to find out.”

“It’s strategically useful she doesn’t find
out,” said Raidan. “Now, possibility two: I attempt to contact the
ship and eat static. That leaves me no better off than I am now, in
fact it gives me more reason to worry. But not anything new upon
which I can act.”

“You want my opinion? You’re rationalizing,”
said Tristan. “But I trust your reasoning in this matter.”

“You’re damned right you do,” said Raidan, as
if to remind Tristan which of them was in command here.

“So, I take it you want me to continue to
track the
Nighthawk
as best as I can, then?”

“If you’re able.”

“They may have gotten too far ahead; we might
find no useful alteredspace jump signature in the region by the
time we arrive. Even if we do, the
Nighthawk
might have
stealthed. On top of that, the
Nighthawk
is faster than the
Arcane Storm
, so I might be unable to get you any useful
intelligence.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Raidan. “But I’d
sleep easier knowing you’re out there and on the trail as best you
can be.”

“Very well. We shall continue the
pursuit.”

“Thank you.”

“You seem genuinely worried,” said Tristan.
“You don’t actually think something has gone wrong, do you? Surely
Summers and her crew haven’t retaken the ship or anything.”

“Calvin managed to do it.”

“
With
Pellew, not against him,” said
Tristan. It was a healthy reminder.

“Honestly, no, I'm not worried Summers or any
of the crew have retaken control of the
Nighthawk
from
Pellew,” said Raidan. “But there are any number of things which
could have gone wrong: the weapon may have been mishandled and
detonated, the Enclave may have intercepted the
Nighthawk
and boarded it. We both know they could defeat Pellew and his
soldiers and that they have a penchant for having intel they
shouldn’t have. Not to mention Pellew may have double crossed me.
Perhaps he found a buyer of his own that would pay him even
more.”

“That last one sounds far more like Zander
than Pellew; it just comes across as paranoid,” said Tristan. “And
as for the first two, I’m sure they are treating the missile
gingerly, and the Enclave; come on. Yes, they're dangerous. And
yes, those bastards are evil, vile, and hellish, and could easily
take the ship. But they’d have to find the damn thing, and the
Nighthawk
is sneaky as hell, even without its stealth
active! Besides, the Enclave would have to know the
Nighthawk
had the missing missile, and the only person who
could have told them that is space dust! You said it yourself:
Zander is dead.”

“Or so Pellew told me,” said Raidan, now
wondering if somehow Pellew could have struck a deal with the
Enclave.
No; now I’m just being ridiculous
, he thought.

“Take it from me, Raidan,” said Tristan.
“You’re being paranoid.”

“Good,” said Raidan. “If I’m not at least a
bit paranoid in this game, then I might as well write my epitaph.
My paranoia is my edge.”

“
Some
paranoia, yes. Not so much that
you drive yourself mad, though. After all, you’ve got to trust
somebody.”

Raidan knew he was right. Still, he’d feel a
lot better if he heard from Jason Pellew. And better still once he
had the weapon in his hands. Then he’d just have to keep it secret
from Mira Pellew long enough until he could
deal
with
her.

Raidan briefly wondered if somehow the two of
them could be working together. An evil duo of brother and sister,
both playing Raidan from separate angles.
Impossible
,
thought Raidan.
Or at least, improbable; highly improbable.
Considering his primary request
…

There was the sound of a click, his sealed
door unlocking. “I have to go,” said Raidan, terminating the
transmission an instant before Mira Pellew herself entered his
office. In the distance, the chief engineer could be seen walking
away.

“That door was locked for a reason,” said
Raidan, making a mental note never to trust the chief engineer
again. Clearly, he was one of hers, now. Perhaps he had been all
along.

“No one has seen you for hours,” said Mira as
she stepped closer, then took the seat opposite him. “I wanted to
make sure you were okay.” All that stood between them was his cedar
desk. He could easy climb over it and go for her throat. No one
could stop him…Not in time, anyway.

“Well, I assure you, I’m quite all right,” he
said. “You can stop having engineers break electronically sealed
doors to check on me.”

Mira smiled. “Whatever you say, Captain. But
I think we both know you left me very little choice.”

“And why is that?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious; you’re avoiding
me.”

“And why, I wonder, might that be?” asked
Raidan, as he poured himself a shot of whiskey.

He’d just raised his glass to his lips when
she said, “Drink up,” her tone was taunting. “Drink deep.”

He lowered the glass and set it on the desk.
“Do you mind telling me just what the hell you want, Mira?” He
looked her squarely in the eyes. He would not be intimidated by the
likes of her, even if he did know precisely how dangerous she truly
was. He highly doubted she could have, or would have poisoned his
whiskey. She just liked to give the appearance of control…to imply
greater power than she actually had, or to exaggerate her reach,
especially around Raidan.

Well, he would have none of it. He decided to
pick up the glass after all to show her he didn't believe her, to
call her bluff. He downed it before her eyes and poured a second
shot. Mira smiled as he knew she would. But that didn’t matter; he
was still too useful to her to poison, just as she remained too
useful to him.
For now
…

“Bravo,” she said, after he’d finished the
drink. “So, you are a man with some backbone still after all.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I think we both know why I’m here: action.
It needs to happen, and it ought to happen
now
,” her eyes
widened as she spoke and, in the lights, she seemed almost
mental.

“Drastic measures are only called for in
drastic times,” he said, downing the second shot. “To play a trump
card too early is to be shortsighted. You don’t win the hand only
to lose the game.”

“You and your metaphors,” she said, annoyed.
“It doesn’t matter what metaphor you use, the fact is you have a
chance to act, we have a chance to act, and we’re not doing it.
We’re sitting here, waiting, watching as the civil war rages on. As
the Rahajiim are out there scheming. And who knows how many other
enemies we have? Yet you would have us continue to sit here. Why is
that?” she eyed him suspiciously, probing him. As if knowing he had
an ace up his sleeve he hadn’t told her about which, in fact, he
did in the form of the isotome missile.

Raidan kept his best poker face and met her
gaze. If she was going to uncover his secret, which in time she
inevitably would if no one stopped her, it wouldn’t be by reading
his facial cues and interpreting his body language; that much
Raidan was certain of.

“It’s all about timing,” he said. “All things
in their proper order, in their proper time. Not before.”

“What happened to you?” she asked. “You used
to be a man of action. The old Raidan, the one who destroyed those
damn Rotham freighters because he heard they had class one cargo,
that
Raidan wouldn’t be sitting here drinking himself
stupid.
That
Raidan would act. Now.”

“I’m the same man,” he said calmly. “However,
one never uses the solution of force when the option of diplomacy
remains on the table. Use of force creates opportunities for
errors. People slip up, make mistakes. I don’t want to risk that.
Not until I absolutely have to.”

“Dammit, Raidan, at least summon the Forum.
You know it’s long overdue!”

He gave her a long, hard look before
replying, coolly as ice, “Not. Yet.”