concerns to the board of directors and possibly we can come up with some ideas of our own.”
“I’ll walk you out, Mr. Fourcade,” Zakharova offered, putting a guiding hand on his shoulder and leading him out through the ornate wooden door.
O’Keefe sank back into his chair, feeling infinitely weary. Taking a deep breath, he touched a screen set into his desktop.
“Send in Colonel McKay.”
O’Keefe’s expression didn’t quite brighten when McKay entered the room—he knew why the officer was visiting and it wasn’t pleasant news—but he did feel some of the weight lift from his shoulders. McKay wasn’t quite a friend, but he was certainly an ally and whatever their philosophical differences, he knew that he could count on the man to do his duty, no matter how heavy the responsibility.
“Mr. President,” McKay shook his hand. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“I’ve seen the video you sent over,” O’Keefe said with a nod, waving McKay into a seat. “So, he’s back.” O’Keefe allowed himself a moment of vulnerability with the military officer that he couldn’t with the lobbyist and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “You thought he would be, eventually.”
“Yes, sir,” McKay said, a frown passing over his lean, squared-off face. There had been quite the debate five years ago, just after the war, when he had pressured then—President Jameson to mount an all—out search for Antonov’s headquarters. He knew that as long as the former Russian dictator was at large with access to the nanotechnological factories from the alien ruins on his headquarters world, he wouldn’t rest until he had come back and finished the job of conquering Earth. Antonov’s cosmonauts had discovered the wormhole gateway to the ruined alien world by accident, during a mining mission to the asteroid belt, but five years of searching for it had produced no results.
“So, the question becomes, how do we respond and how long do we have?”
“I’ve been researching the area of the frontier where the attack occurred,” McKay said. He gestured towards the star map projected in a recess of the back wall behind the President’s desk. “If you wouldn’t mind?”
At O’Keefe’s wave of assent, he stepped over to the projector’s controls and brought up a section of the Republic’s inner frontier—towards the galactic center rather than away from it. “Here’s the system where the observation post was attacked,” he indicated a main sequence star in the near center of the sector. “We don’t have any manned bases farther in than this, but we have done surveys in a few systems nearby, both manned and unmanned.” He traced an arc of stars in a half-circle around the original one. “There’s a couple with habitable worlds and the early indications are they’re rich in natural resources. I’m wondering if he isn’t working one or more of those worlds for resources and wiped out the observation post so we wouldn’t get wind of what he was doing until it was too late.”
“So it may be too late to catch him,” O’Keefe muttered sourly. “Damn, I hate having him out there like a Sword of Damocles.” His eyes narrowed and he looked at McKay suspiciously. “You could have told me all this via videoconference from Fleet Headquarters. You’re here because there’s something you wanted to ask me in person.”
“Yes, sir,” McKay admitted, looking him in the eye. “I want to go out there. I need to supervise this personally.”
“McKay, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re the head of the Fleet Intelligence Service,” O’Keefe couldn’t help but smile. “You have people to do this sort of thing for you now.”
“I do, sir, and I trust them, but this isn’t a question of proper training or judgment… this is a question of experience. I know Antonov better than anyone else in the Republic military… I’ve looked in his eye, and I have a feel for him that no one that works for me does. I could get a sense for the data from reports, but that runs up against the time lag. If there is something further I think needs investigating based on findings from a report, it will take
“Yes,” O’Keefe nodded slowly. “I see where you’re coming from. Very well, it will raise some eyebrows, but the hell with them. You’ll be on a cruiser to the frontier as soon as you’re prepped. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I want to take Colonel Podbyrin with me.”
O’Keefe raised an eyebrow. “The Protectorate officer you captured during the war?”
“Yes, sir… we captured his ship in the Belt and used it to board Antonov’s flagship. He knows exactly how Antonov thinks. I believe he could help us.”
“Where the hell
“No, President Jameson was lenient with him because he cooperated with us. He was under supervised house arrest for a year for evaluation, then he was given some land and a start-up grant on Loki. He has a cattle ranch there, selling beef to the multicorps’ cafeterias and company markets.” McKay shrugged. “From reports, he’s pretty content there.”
“You’re going to be burning a lot of antimatter on that trip,” the President mused. “But I don’t think anyone will praise my frugality if we wind up being invaded by Antonov’s
“Do something like what, sir?” McKay asked cautiously.
“Have you heard of a bill in the Republic Senate to allow the use of biomech technology in private industry?”
“Christ no!” McKay blurted. “Are they serious? Sir.”
“That was my reaction as well, though as a politician, I had to be a bit more diplomatic about it,” O’Keefe said, chuckling softly. “The thing is, though… I may not have a choice in this. If things get much worse, it will get passed and if I veto it, it
“So, what
“To stop the bill? Perhaps appeal to the people. There’s enough residual fear from the invasion that they might pressure the Senate to vote it down. About the economy?” He shook his head. “I wish I knew. But that’s my problem. Yours is Antonov. You solve yours and I’ll try to solve mine while you’re gone.”
“Maybe you should talk to Valerie and Glen sir,” McKay suggested.
“That’s not a bad idea at all,” O’Keefe admitted. “Have a safe voyage, Colonel,” the President offered his hand and McKay shook it… but O’Keefe held onto the hand for a moment, looking him in the eye. “Find Antonov, Jason… find him and kill that son of a bitch.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” McKay nodded, then he left the office.
Was it his imagination, McKay wondered, or did O’Keefe look older?
Chapter Three
McKay stared at the empty duffle bag sitting on the bedroom chair and wondered what he was going to pack. It had been five years since he’d left on an interstellar voyage and the last time had been as a Captain in charge of a grand total of five people, including himself. Now he was a Colonel, probably due to be promoted to General soon, the head of the whole damned Intelligence Service, and he was about to go gallivanting off to the edge of explored space.
“What the hell are you thinking, McKay?” He muttered to himself.
“You’re thinking, ‘I hate being behind a desk and thank God for this excuse to get out in the field again,’ that’s what you’re thinking,” Shannon’s voice whispered in his ear as her arms slipped around his waist. He could feel the tickle of her fire-colored hair against his face, the warmth of her bare skin against his back and he smiled with satisfaction.
He turned, putting his arms around her and pulling her into a kiss.
“We start doing this again and you’ll
