Jack Dagiri shut off the holographic projector in disgust. Normally, he would be going on a tirade, perhaps as far as executing Steve or even Hargo for such a foul-up. Instead, the Elation dose he’d taken earlier still kept him calm. He sat for a moment, staring at the empty space above the projector.
Dagiri looked at Steve, who gazed down at the floor, neck hanging low. To Dagiri, he who looked like a whipped dog ready to take another beating from his master.
“Relax, Steve,” he said. “It’s not completely your fault this time.”
Steve straightened up. “I don’t know what happened—”
“It’s obvious what happened,” Dagiri said. “Even you should be able to figure it out. Who else could have alerted both the UEP and the Martian Confederacy of what was going on?”
“Well… ” Steve hesitated. “I’m sure they didn’t know what was really in the cargo. They probably just—”
Dagiri slammed the palm of his hands on the desk—the Elation seemed to be wearing off.
“No! It was not just a chance encounter! That was a joint task force with a lot of firepower—and they absolutely knew what was in that cargo!”
Steve looked dumbfounded. “How… how do you know, sir?”
Dagiri pressed the control for the holographic projector and it came back on. It showed a recorded playback of the attack. He reversed the events up to the point where the navy task force appeared. The image then played forward at normal speed from there.
“This is when,” Dagiri said, enunciating his words. “We were in possession of the cargo.”
The hologram now showed a close-up of the last remaining cargo container.
“And here you see that they had every opportunity to destroy the last one!” He slammed his fist on the table. “But—they didn’t destroy it! They took it!”
Steve’s eyes went wild as Dagiri glared at him.
“From me, Steve—from me!”
Dagiri reached into his vest and drew his flicker pistol.
Steve cowered down in fear, but Dagiri aimed at a chair across his desk. He fired the pistol. A blue streak of energy flashed from it, followed by the familiar snap and crackle sound.
The chair flew several feet across the room, landing in pieces on the far wall. Dagiri closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of glass and other expensive adornments crash and break. A long moment past before Dagiri opened his eyes. When he did, Steve was on his knees trembling and sweating.
“That chair,” Dagiri said calmly, “was the one the hackers sat in. And you see the chairs—over there and there? One is yours and one is Hargo’s. When you don’t have a chair to sit in, what happens, Steve?”
Steve’s lip quivered as he struggled to give the right answer. “You stand?”
“No!” Dagiri yelled. “You die! Now go make an example of those hackers!”