CHAPTER 7

Following Rance’s surefooted lead, Kovalic and the general made their way through the corridors of the Commonwealth Executive campus. Glancing sideways at his boss, Kovalic noticed he’d foregone any pretense of leaning on his walking stick, carrying it in one hand like the sheathed weapon it was and easily keeping pace with them.

He shook his head. Even after all this time, the things he didn’t know about Hasan al-Adaj surprised him – and worried him, too.

The general caught his gaze and offered a tight smile. “Come now, Simon. You didn’t think I would spring for anything less than the top of the line.” He rapped the end of the stick against his lower leg with the clank of wood against metal. “It always pays to be prepared.”

“That was a bit of fancy footwork,” said Kovalic.

“Three-time epee champion at the Illyrican War College,” said the general modestly. “I’ve tried to keep up in recent years, but it’s so hard to find a sparring partner who can be discreet. Other than Rance, of course,” he said, nodding to the young woman in front of them.

Kovalic couldn’t help but wonder which of her boss’s other secrets the yeoman was privy to. Her unhesitating willingness to take out a pair of marines and an inspector for the Commonwealth Security Bureau suggested more loyalty to the general than to her own government.

Which, to be fair, was the same argument Kester had made about Kovalic himself. Not for the first time, Kovalic started to wonder if he was making the right decision, hitching his wagon to the general’s fortunes. The man had done plenty that could be seen as suspicious… but they’d worked together for a long time; that had to count for something. And despite the circumstances, there was still something in Kovalic’s gut that was telling him he’d rather be on the run with the general than at Kester’s mercies.

He’d lost track of exactly where in the compound they were, but Rance strode straight ahead and pushed open a heavy security door, letting them out into the warm breeze of a Novan afternoon. They were in one of the campus’s modest parking structures and the young woman made a beeline for a sleek black groundcar parked in the row across from the door. Raising her sleeve, she tapped in a sequence and the car’s locks clicked open.

Kovalic cast a last look over his shoulder as the door behind them swung closed and, with it, their last hope of pleading that this was anything but a mistake. They’d incapacitated several official personnel and were about to become fugitives. Coming back from that was going to be a hard sell.

But somewhere out there the rest of his team had presumably already made that same choice, on his say so. He couldn’t hang them out to dry any more than he could leave the general twisting in the wind.

With a sigh, he slid into the front passenger seat, next to Rance, who had already powered up the car. With the general in the back, Rance pulled out of the space and down the ramp towards the exit.

“Now what?” Kovalic asked. “Another one of your secret offices?” The general had at least a half-dozen locations that he rotated through, and Kovalic had always assumed that there were a few that even he didn’t know about.

“While I have nothing but faith in Rance’s security precautions, that seems unwise. We have to assume all of them have been compromised.”

Rance glanced back at the general as she pulled the car up to the exit gate, which opened obligingly for them. “Even Thursday?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Sunlight glinted through the windshield as they turned onto the long drive that led out of the campus. As far as Kovalic could tell, it looked like any other day. People walking around the campus, clear skies overhead, the blue Commonwealth flag flapping in the breeze. Not a hint that anything was amiss.

“We probably don’t have too long before they find Laurent and those marines and put the campus on lockdown,” said Kovalic. His heart was thumping in his chest as he looked down the road, which seemed impossibly long at their current pace. But rushing would just make them that much more conspicuous.

He held his breath all the way to the exit checkpoint, but the marines there waved them on without a second look. After all, their primary job was keeping people out, not keeping them in.

Even so, he didn’t let the air out of his lungs until they were back on the highway, the skyscrapers of downtown Salaam fading into the distance behind them.

“So,” he said, glancing back at the general. “This person you said could help us… who are they?”

He’d already mentally flipped through his own contacts, but the ones he trusted the most – the ones who wouldn’t blink even at a treason accusation – were few and far between. Most of his old friends from his time in the service had retired. Besides, they were exactly who Laurent and Kester would expect him to turn to; asking them for help would just be putting them in the crosshairs. Meanwhile, his colleagues in the intelligence community might not like Kester any more than he did, but it wasn’t exactly politically expedient to take on the newly installed head of CID, even if his title was still prefaced with “acting.”

That left his many and varied contacts offworld but, as the general had pointed out, getting off Nova would be difficult and potentially counterproductive to finding evidence that would clear them.

Behind him, the general’s lips thinned. “There’s an old friend… well, perhaps that is generous. Once upon a time we were friends, though circumstances have become complicated. But I don’t think he will turn us away. He runs a tea shop in Tokai, down by the coast.”

Kovalic raised an eyebrow. “That’s the better part of a day.”

“Staying in Salaam doesn’t seem the wisest course of action at present.”

It was hard to disagree with that. Tokai was a small town, though. If CID or Laurent followed them there, they wouldn’t have many places to run.

“Rance,” said the general, “Zuljanah contingency, I should think.”

“Got it,” said the young woman before checking the rearview displays and pulling off at the next exit ramp. She started following a convoluted series of turns through the surface streets that was no doubt intended to reveal any pursuit, as well as evade tracking by surveillance.

“Do I want to know how many of these contingencies you have?” Kovalic asked after what seemed like the sixth turn in two minutes.

The general’s shoulders went up. “Fewer than I’d like and hopefully more than I’ll need.”

After another few minutes Rance pulled the car over in front of a small bank of shops and the three of them got out. The aide placed a small black puck on the center console and pressed the single glowing blue button atop it.

Upon their exit, she pressed a button on her sleeve and there was a brief squeal and crackling. “Focused EMP charge,” she explained. “It’ll wipe the car’s internal systems and logs, just in case.”

The general, leading the way, stepped into what turned out to be a small gourmet grocery store, aisles lined with delicacies from across the known galaxy: truffles from Earth, single-malt Caledonian whisky, even smoked Illyrican hazardfish – all at exorbitant prices. They passed a cheese counter replete with orange-rinded wheels and thick white cakes with a heady aroma of sharp funkiness. Then through a narrow corridor created by shelves of wine, piled high with vintages from seemingly every inhabited system – rare was the human settlement where they hadn’t at least attempted the tradition – and out the back of the shop into a small lot with three cars in it.

Rance headed for one, a discreet late-model silver vehicle that you could all too easily lose in a shopping center parking lot, and it opened at a wave from her sleeve. Within moments they were out on the road again, heading in an entirely different direction.

“Well,” said the general after a few moments. “That may not totally shake CID from our trail, but I daresay we’ve bought ourselves some time to reach Tokai without any interference.”

Kovalic rubbed a hand over his mouth. “And then what? Your friend helps us hide? Sets up new identities for us? What’s the endgame here – and don’t tell me you don’t have one. It’s pretty clear that you were prepared for this eventuality.”

Blue eyes glinted as they met Kovalic’s in the mirror. “Of course. I came to this planet as a defector, Simon. It seemed more than plausible that at some point I might wear out my welcome. Though, admittedly, this was not the fashion I deemed most likely.” He stroked the pointed tip of his beard. “All things being equal, I would prefer to clear our names. Whatever else I may have done, Kester’s allegations of treason are soundly false – just as yours were.” There was a note of recrimination in his voice, reminding Kovalic that moments before Kester had stormed into the general’s office, it had been him leveling the same accusations.

“Given what Kester said about having evidence connecting you to the attacks by the Novan Liberation Front, I assume we both believe he has the same information I do: transactions from your accounts on Bayern to Nova Front, via the Tanager Holdings shell company.”

The general winced visibly at the name, and Kovalic turned in his seat to face the man head on. “You said you’d made a terrible mistake. When I said that name for the first time, right before Kester came in.”

“Did I?” the general mused, his eyes drifting to the window.

“Now’s not the time to play coy,” Kovalic said, his tone harsher than intended. His mouth snapped shut; he’d always held the general in high regard, ever since their first meeting back on Illyrica, eight years ago. Even though the man held no real rank in the Commonwealth military, he’d always been accorded the honors of his Illyrican position. Some, like Kester, used it as an ironic cudgel with which to bludgeon the man who had spent most of his career fighting against the very people he now sought to help. But for Kovalic, it was about respect for the man’s service, even if it had been on the other side.

That generosity was starting to wear thin. Even if the old man hadn’t betrayed the Commonwealth, Kovalic had long since realized that the general could no more stop planning and harboring hidden agendas than he could stop breathing.

That had served Kovalic and his team well over the years, helping them work outside of the framework of bureaucracy and organization that too often seemed to view the conflict between Commonwealth and Imperium as one that could be waged only as war. But the bill had now come due, and the blade that had sliced through the red tape was now at their own throats.

Kovalic fixed the general with the same gray-eyed stare that he usually saved for junior officers. “I think it’s time to put all your cards on the table. Sir. Somehow the evidence against us is connected to CARDINAL. What’s your exposure? Who exactly are they?”

The general didn’t respond at first, just kept staring out the window as the buildings blurred by. But at last, he drew a deep breath, then exhaled as though blowing out a candle. “Leaving the Imperium was very difficult for me. I left behind someone who I held very dear, and I was worried about how they would fare in my absence – without my influence to shield them. So I arranged a regular supply of funds for them, in order that they might have an independent source of financial stability. Though I asked for nothing in exchange, they volunteered information from time to time and, given their access, it seemed foolhardy not to accept.”

“So,” said Kovalic slowly, “this was all to protect an asset. You think whoever took over your old job as director of Imperial Intelligence found out somehow? Used that connection to their advantage?”

A wry twist curled the general’s lip. “In a manner of speaking.”

Kovalic massaged the spot between his eyes. “Enough with the cryptic hints. Just come out with it.”

“Fair enough.” The general drew a deep breath. “No, I do not think my replacement at the Imperial Intelligence Service compromised CARDINAL – but only because they had already been compromised, right from the very beginning.” His eyes hardened. “I believe our nameless adversary at IIS and CARDINAL are one and the same: Emperor Alaric’s daughter, the Princess Isabella.”