“So what’s this about an attack against the summit?”
“Does the name Hudda Kugrall mean anything to you?”
“Sure. It’s a rebel group that uses tactics we’d label as terrorism. The krokator use the word nuganki – heretic – which I personally find has a classical ring to it. However, this ‘Forbidden Army,’ as it translates to, is a domestic issue for the krokator. There has been zero evidence that there is a Hudda Kugrall presence on Terra.”
“Well, you’re wrong. Zurra and I just torched a Hudda Kugrall stronghold in the Zone,” Gresham said, glaring at Vosen and putting down his fork. “They had a weapons cache hidden in a bunker in the basement of a gukka bar operated by a krokator that SIS cleared years ago. Does the name Kalenn Jurkken ring a bell?”
An expression of concern crossed Vosen’s face. “And you and Zurra killed this Jurkken, I suppose?”
“Our good friend the sharm is quite the marksman. Hit him with an okka needle through the eye.”
“Poor bastard.”
“That monster kept us in his basement for almost twenty-four hours,” Gresham said, noticeably raising his voice. “He kept us imprisoned while his goons murdered Lara Taylor, an agent in your department, and there were enough okka guns and needles down there to supply a small army. I heard him directly mention some sort of plan concerning tonight, and it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Maybe you haven’t heard who’s at the summit, but he’s a target they can’t afford to miss.”
Vosen shifted his glasses on his nose. “You’d best start from the beginning, Major Gresham, and tell me everything.”
#
“Everyone, if you could please have your seats,” Godford said into the microphone at the podium. “There, thank you. I would like to thank everyone for joining us tonight. This is arguably the largest security summit ever arranged on such short notice, and we apologize for the hassle this has caused any visitors. We felt it best that we immediately gather to discuss relevant concerns in lieu of multiple assassinations of prominent politicians and high-ranking military officials throughout the League of Planets.”
He gestured towards the panel of assorted species sitting with him on the raised dais. “So tonight, in an effort to show solidarity, we welcome delegates from fourteen assorted star nations. Every Chair Nation is represented, along with second-tier military powers such as Gardell, Ceis, Hippakkest, and others. Please join me in a round of applause to warmly welcome these guests to Los Angeles!”
The delegates rose to acknowledge the crowd and there was booming applause. Godford indicated a far door. “And now, the President of the Human Alliance, Howard Paine!”
There was even more raucous applause as Paine entered, led and flanked by tall security officers. Paine waved, stepped up to the podium with a lighthearted hop and shook Godford’s hand, accepting a position behind the podium with a broad smile. He was in his element.
“Please, thank you,” he said, motioning for his audience to cease applauding. “I have something more sophisticated prepared, but opportunities to welcome guests of this caliber to our lovely city don’t come often, so without much further ado, I present to you a true Los Angeles welcome!”
Curtains at the far side of the large room rose to reveal a live band nearly the size of half an orchestra, composed of a variety of species including a yuun drummer and a briling singer. There were a series of cheers and several of the delegates laughed and applauded as the band dove into an upbeat song.
“What do you think, Richard? A little surprise I snuck in with the event staff,” Paine whispered to Godford as he took his seat.
“I think you’re out of your mind,” Godford replied. “But you sure do have a taste for the theatrics, Mr. President.”
“Oh come on, Richard, have some fun for once. It’s something for our visiting dignitaries to enjoy and it scores me some political points, shows I’m more than a boring, stodgy old Auroran.”
“The Alliance needs a leader right now, not somebody who knows how to have fun,” Godford said with clear disdain. “I don’t think the High Prod is enjoying this.”
Both men glanced in Nikkwill’s direction, and the krokator was indeed wearing a grouchy, uncomfortable expression.
“Be as it may, I’m not here to cater to one person.”
“I hope you haven’t scheduled their set for too long.”
“Just three songs. We’ll be moving right along into the dinner soon enough. It’s not even eight, Richard, lighten up!”
“That’s what worries me.”
Down at his table, Hess checked his watch and realized that it was time to move. He excused himself and moved towards the doors to the hall. With everyone distracted, he stepped outside into the lobby and pulled out his voxcom, quickly finding the contact he was after.
“It’s time.”
#
Vosen rubbed his eyes and tried to make sense of what Gresham was saying. “So, based on pure conjecture and circumstantial evidence, you believe that Colin Hess – one of the richest, most powerful men in the galaxy – is bankrolling the Hudda Kugrall and that with the help of a go-between named Elijah Perry, who is little more than a glorified accountant and corporate bagman, plans to assault a heavily-guarded security summit that he himself is attending?”
“I think Perry is the key player,” Gresham said. “He has connections to Hessian Engineering and the offworld accounts of Pacific Capital, where he could move around illegal arms sale proceeds to shitholes like Piskka. He also had access to Jack French, which explains how missing guns requisitioned under French’s name wound up in the hands of Jurkken.”
“This all sounds rather speculative, Major Gresham.”
“I told you, I saw him with my own eyes down in that basement. A basement where, if SIS doesn’t cock up the investigation, you ought to find the weapons cache matching the guns lifted from Ventura.”
“Have you considered the major factor behind every crime, Major?”
“What do you mean?”
“Motive.” Vosen paused and repeated himself for emphasis. “Motive. What is the motive here? Why would Hess gamble his billions on cooking up something this ludicrous and insane, Major?”
“I’ve given it some thought, and I have a theory. Hess is under investigation for selling arms illegally on foreign worlds, in particular to terrorist groups and violent warlords. The krokator are accusing him of partnering with the Forbidden Army to use as muscle in return for financial support. At least that’s what they claimed after their Piskka raid.”
“Yes, Gresham, but we can’t forcibly retrieve funds that aren’t property of the Alliance, and it’s not like we can prosecute the Hudda Kugrall in court.”
“Right, but you can prosecute Hess and his company. The Commission has subpoena power last I checked and Greg Reed himself made it sound like they were prepared to use it.”
Vosen nodded warily. “Look, Gresham, what you’re trying to suggest is ridiculous…”
“Not so fast. If Hess attacks the summit, he could potentially wipe out a large percentage of the people trying to prosecute him, maybe even Howard Paine. An attack like the one he and his krokator army are planning would not only indefinitely stall the investigation into his business, it would probably also kill the efforts of the Commission to pass the defense contracting bill they’ve been discussing, a bill that would strictly regulate companies like Hessian Engineering in the future. Combined with subpoenas, indictments and public hearings, the bill would likely mark the end of Hessian Engineering, not to mention the billions it would cost some very influential people.”
“And obviously, the Hudda Kugrall jumps on the opportunity to go along because the High Prod of the Empire is at the very same summit, and Hess has leverage on them since he controls their gun money,” Vosen finished. “This all sounds rather far-fetched, Gresham, but I do follow your logic. One problem: what would Perry gain from all this?”
“Money? Who knows? Maybe he??
?s worried he might go to prison if the Commission digs deep enough and slaughtering hundreds of innocent people is his way out. Either way, I just know he’s the glue that holds the whole house of cards together. Perry’s the key.”
“So what’s the plan, then?”
“We see what’s on Lara’s backup drive and then we go to the summit and stop Hess. We don’t have evidence to arrest him, but if Perry is there we can take him on murder and kidnapping charges. Hopefully, we get there before they can carry out the attack. It’s what, eight right now? We can be on Catalina in less than an hour.”
Vosen shook his head. “We can’t go on Agent Taylor’s hard drive, the access is restricted. Without her fingerprint and password, it’ll be locked and we’d be wasting valuable time.”
“I have her password and there was something on there she wanted me to see. There might be evidence incriminating Hess!”
“If you’re right, we have to stop Hess and the Hudda Kugrall before they make their move,” Vosen said calmly. “So we’ll talk to Cray. Besides, he’s the only person authorized to remotely access her hard drive from his office.”
“Perfect, lead the way.”
Vosen coughed and nodded towards the sidearm Gresham had placed on the desk. “You’ll have to leave your gun here, Major, we don’t allow them on the Director’s floor.”
“Certainly, I understand.”
They stepped out into the hallway and found Zurra sitting on the floor, studying cracks in the ceiling. “Come on,” Gresham said and they followed Vosen into the same lift Gresham had ridden a few days prior.
“Now you’ll have to tell Cray everything you just told me,” Vosen reminded Gresham. “I think you impressed him last time you were up here, it actually inspired him to reopen the investigation and look over all of Agent Taylor’s notes personally.” The lift stopped at the thirty-ninth floor and Vosen gestured. “After you,” he said with a smug smile.
They reached the end of the hallway, Vosen verified his identity with his fingerprint and Gresham and Zurra pushed open the door into the dark office. Motion sensors detected their presence and the lights hummed to life, revealing a macabre scene. Cray was lying on his side next to his desk, a thick pool of blood spilled several hours earlier darkening the carpet. The gunshot wound to his head was evident from where they stood.
“If you would, gentlemen,” Vosen sneered from behind them and both Gresham and Zurra turned to see the SIS agent brandishing a gun.
“Of course,” Gresham said and motioned for Zurra to follow him into the office. They stood at a distance from Cray’s body as Vosen closed and locked the door before circling around so that he stood next to the desk. “How long, Vosen?”
“Have I been working with Perry? Months, but I’ve known him for years.”
“And Hess?”
“Never met the man, honestly. You were right, Major – Eli sort of is what holds all of us scattered, lost souls together.”
Gresham glanced at the body on the floor. “You didn’t really have to kill old Simon Cray, did you?”
“Cray picked up on the fact that something was wrong weeks ago, before you or Vance or anyone became involved. When he decided to download all the translated information from Lugrash’s computer and the analysis from Lara’s own hard drive, whatever was left of the old field agent put the pieces together.”
“That’s why you brought us up here. There’s something on Lara’s computer you can’t let us see.”
“Well, only evidence that directly incriminates myself and a number of other SIS agents,” Vosen said with a smile. “I knew you’d try to reach Troy, so I suggested to Cray a wild goose chase for Sam to go off on. I’ll need agents like Sam in the coming weeks.”
“So you didn’t need Lara, then? She was just an old flame? A piece of ass?”
“Ah, she told you. Perhaps in another life we could have swapped notes over Ms. Taylor’s proficiency in bed. Don’t act surprised, Gresham, I don’t miss much. I’d never seen her that happy the next morning at the office.”
Gresham felt bile building up in his throat, but he was at the mercy of Vosen’s gun. “So what’s the plan here, Vosen? Shoot us and make it look like we killed Cray?”
“Precisely! Your deductive skills continue to amaze me, but I wonder if you can piece together everything. You’re missing a few parts.”
“Like what?”
Vosen’s eye twitched slightly as he kept the gun steady. “Well, for example, you didn’t catch on to why my predecessor was murdered. Brighton’s stings in the Zone triggered this whole mess. He hit the wrong people hard and they came to me, through Perry. I was useful to them; my subsequent promotion lent me considerably more control here at SIS and allowed me to cover things up from the inside. Files go missing all the time, things get redacted… Not even Cray was smart enough to spot that one.”
“Clever bastard,” Gresham muttered. He noticed that Zurra had been inching further and further away from his side, having not said a word the entire time.
“You also never caught on to the assassination of the bureaucrat, the same attack that got your friend Vance in the hospital. He was getting too interested in Supernova and other mysterious transactions under the same ID code, so we arranged for Evans, another friend of ours, to lure him in with a hard-copy of the invoice. Said there was something he wanted to show him. Turns out Vance wasn’t as bright as everyone thought.”
“Lugrash was waiting for him when he got there.”
“Well, yes, we needed to silence Evans too. He was a worthless pawn. We didn’t foresee Lugrash going down there personally, however, or Vance surviving the stab wounds. That complicated things.” Vosen lowered the gun slightly, his finger twitching dangerously against the trigger. “I hate to say this, Gresham, but you would actually have made a pretty decent field agent.” He noticed Zurra now standing only a few feet away. “How did you get over there?”
Gresham suddenly lunged sideways and Vosen brought the gun back up instinctively, pointing it in his direction. Zurra leapt through the air like a feral predator and caught Vosen from the side, getting a hand around the bottom of his chin. He twisted his wrist in a single move, turning the human’s head at an impossible angle. There was a resounding snap and Gresham threw himself at the floor as Vosen fired the gun twice in his death throes, both bullets sailing wildly into the wall.
“Holy shit!” Gresham exclaimed as Vosen hit the floor, his lifeless eyes staring off into space, his limbs sprawled out like the wings of a dead bird.
Zurra sunk to one knee and nudged the body with his hand, nodding. “He is dead.”
“You think?” Gresham breathed heavily and rose. “We need to get going. Nobody here can help us now.” He picked up Vosen’s gun and checked the magazine. “There’s almost a full clip here. Remind me to save one for Eli Perry.”
Chapter Twenty-Four: To Be Buried Alone
Catalina Island, Los Angeles, Planet Terra, Sol System
Hess peered into the kitchen of the Catalina Convention Center, scanning for trouble. The kitchen staff barely noticed he was there and he moved briskly through. A cook walked up to him and stopped inches from his face.
“Hey! You can’t be back here!”
“Relax, I’m with the event staff,” Hess replied and pulled out a fake business card for Paradise Desserts. “My people will be arriving shortly.”
“Christ, you’re breaking my fucking balls here, man!” the cook swore in frustration. “It’s almost eight thirty and the dessert isn’t even here yet!”
“They’re pulling into the back, just you wait,” Hess said. “I’ll go get them myself.”
“Okay, but don’t slow me down!”
“Oh, I won’t,” Hess said with a grimace and continued. He emerged into a back hallway and pulled out his holographic blueprints of the structure along with his voxcom.
“Barkley, I’m in the rear corridor heading to the loading docks,” Hess said into his voxcom. “Is everything i
n place like you said?”
“It should be,” the voice replied quietly. “I’ll divert security to north end of the building. Your men will have only five minutes or so to neutralize security once they return to their posts.”
“And they’ll be at the exact posts you assigned?”
“They’ve been told not to leave their stations unless otherwise ordered. You’ll have your five minutes, Hess, so don’t dawdle.”
“I’ll see you soon. Thanks.”
Hess reached a large pipe running from floor to ceiling and stuck his hand behind it. There was a small okka pistol taped to the back of it, wedged between the concrete wall and the metal – just like Barkley had promised. After removing the tape and dislodging it, Hess checked to make sure it was amply loaded before proceeding out onto the loading dock.
A security guard standing watch over the three dessert SHIPRs turned in surprise. “Hey, you can’t be back here!”
A moment later, he was twitching on the ground, trying to pull the poison needle out of his throat while its venom coursed through his veins. Hess kicked him off the dock down to the pavement below and one of the SHIPRs pulled up directly over the body.
The backs of the SHIPRs lowered like drawbridges and touched down against the lip of the dock. The assorted mercenaries attired as caterers and security personnel emerged and Hess looked at his watch.
“Eight nineteen. We’re running ahead of schedule, perfect.”
One of the men looked at Hess’s expression. “Something wrong, Mr. Hess?”
“I’m fine.”
The mercenary looked down at the foot visible from under the nearest SHIPR. “You’re not really used to taking a life, are you Mr. Hess?”
“No, Mr. Dexter, I am not. Does that surprise you?” Hess growled and motioned for them to head inside. “We have five minutes at most to neutralize security. Is everyone ready?”
Dexter and his mercenaries nodded and primed their okka guns. One of the men dressed in Paradise Dessert coveralls handed Hess a regular, human-made gun.
“Barkley, we’re in position. Whenever you’re ready.”
There was an ensuing buzz over his voxcom. “Confirmed. Dakkal, you’re free to move at will.”