Fire With Fire

“Christ, Dad never told me that. Neither did Riordan-although we had orders not to talk to him, anyway. Something about minimizing potential intel leaks?”

“Yes-which reminds me: we have to give you a code name. Homeric. Your father’s idea, I’m afraid.”

“Okay.”

“Your code name is ‘Telemachus.’”

“Okay, so I’m Telemachus. What’s Riordan’s code name?”

“Odysseus.”

“Wait: if I remember my Odyssey, that makes me his son.”

“What is it with you Corcorans and these code names? They’re just labels. Telemachus was a loyal and helpful family member: good enough?”

“Sure. I guess. So, what’s the larger mission?”

Downing feigned puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“Uncle Richard, please. Elena’s right: the memorial is a cover, and bringing all these people out to Mars means you’re assembling a team of some sort. And a team means a mission.”

Downing relented. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. With everyone present. Be advised, though, that once we depart from Mars, your security personnel will return Earthside, where they will await further instructions.

The door chimes-a muted three-tone hum-sounded the same moment that Richard’s collarcom beeped. He tapped it, listened to his earbud. “Yes? Very well; send her straight back.”

“We have a visitor?”

Richard replaced the handset. “Yes.” He rose. “She’s expected. Actually, she’s late.”

ODYSSEUS

The door leading from the foyer into the living room was already opening, and whoever it was, they moved pretty quickly. From his prone position, half in the hallway closet-wet towel over his nose and mouth-Caine could see that the intruder was in a light-duty hard suit, the helmet’s black visor sweeping from side to side. But where’s the gun? Caine disciplined his curiosity: you don’t have time to look, and there’s at least one more moving in behind him. He tightened his grip on the plastic comb he had snagged while crawling out of the bathroom and pushed.

The comb shoved the hastily grabbed butcher’s knife into the access panel he had just pried open at the bottom of the closet wall. Caine turned his face away as the steel blade made contact with both of the two splicing screws that connected the apartment’s wiring to the community power mains.

There was an angry squeal, a sharp blue-white flash-and then all the lights went out. From the entryway, a sputter of curses rose in response.

Before the first monosyllabic profanity was complete, Caine had the knife in hand and was taking long leaping strides to close the distance.

Before the emergency lights snapped on, he saw the first intruder’s bioreadout panel glowing. On a hardsuit, that marked the location of the left clavicle. But my target is fifteen centimeters lower.

Caine leaped, knife point first.

The emergency lights flickered as the knife point hit, and bucked against, the body armor. But, glancing downward, it found and slid through the articulation point that separated the breast plates from the belly panels. The intruder-visor now up, and struggling with a pair of night-vision goggles-grunted and went down backward.

Caine, landing on top of him and already trying to locate the other assassin, realized that his knife hand was now coated in hot, rushing wetness. He pulled himself up, hoping he could get to the other attacker before-

But he never made it to his feet. The world-sounds and images both-seemed to be rushing away from him, pulled further and further down a darkening tunnel. The gas. I’ve got to…

He was sucked into the tunnel, felt it close around and behind him.

TELEMACHUS

Trevor noticed that the small hand shaking his was both very shapely and very strong. Uncle Richard was talking-as usual-but the words were a lot less interesting than the eyes staring up into his. Richard was saying something that sounded like: “Opal Patrone, I’d like you to meet Trevor Corcoran.”

“Pleased,” she said. “Wait-Corcoran? I’m sorry; are you the admiral’s son? I mean, the late-” She blushed: it looked good on her, he thought. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-I didn’t know-”

“No, that’s fine,” he reassured her. “That’s okay.”

“Well, I just-I just want to say that I’m very sorry about your father. I only met him once, right before-” Her blush intensified.

Trevor sent some reassuring pressure through their handshake. “I appreciate your sympathy. Really.”

She smiled, nodded gratefully, glanced over at Downing-and when she did so, her expression became a whole lot less friendly. “Sorry I didn’t get here on time. I got busy. With work.”

“I see.” Downing stared at her gi. “Well, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to get our security precautions put right, which means that you two had to meet. Opal is the only security asset who is not in your table of organization, Trevor.”

“Since you bring it up, Uncle Richard, who else is in my tee-oh-oh?”

“Just your three friends from the Teams and the two associates of mine that I mentioned earlier.”

“Yeah, ‘mentioned.’ Details, please?”

“One is on detached duty from the Special Forces. He’s an expert at working with indigenous groups. He had five combat commands leading two-stick A-teams on extended insurgency ops.”

“The other?”

“Secret Service. On leave. President Liu will express official regret over his resignation a month from now. Of course, she’s already approved it.”

“I see. IRIS seems poised to become the beneficiary of several ‘fortuitous retirements.’”

“So it would seem. Get them working together ASAP, Trevor: they’re all going to be needed at tomorrow’s memorial service-particularly given the incident with your sister.”

One of Opal’s eyebrows rose slightly. “And what incident is that?” she asked.

“Ms. Corcoran was-abducted-late last night.”

“And?”

Downing’s eyes flicked over at Trevor momentarily. “Commander Corcoran recovered her. Unharmed.”

Both of Opal’s eyebrows were now raised as she looked over at Trevor. She looked both impressed and mischievous as she asked, “Tough day at the office, Commander?”

Trevor smiled. “I command a desk, now. And I’m only a lieutenant commander.”

“No, you’re not.” Downing pushed a small black box across the table. Trevor frowned as he opened the box, glanced down-and kept staring.

Richard’s smile was somewhat pinched. “A field promotion, lad. You’ve earned it, and you might have to re- earn it many times over in the coming months.”

“But I wasn’t up for-”

Richard waved his hand in a circle to indicate the suite. “It may not look like it, Trevor, but this is the field. And this promotion is necessary.”

“Necessary?”

“The more direct authority you have, the more direct authority we have.”

Trevor nodded. “Got it.”

Opal put out her hand. “Let me be the first to offer you my congratulations, Commander.”

“Not so fast.” Downing jumped in before Trevor could respond. “You’re in line for your own congratulations- Major.”

“Me? Major?” Her voice was high and girlish with surprise: Opal salvaged the moment by getting tough. “Okay, Downing; what gives?”