Honor Bound

involved in this beyond Fourcade and Riordan and what their next move might be.”

“I’ll do my best to find out what I can,” Jameson promised. He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand thoughtfully. “If they’re confused and their plans are in flux, it could be a good time for me to approach them. After all,” he grinned, “I am an old friend.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“You are going to lose,” Podbyrin declared flatly.

McKay started, looking up at the man suddenly as if he were just realizing he was there in the cabin with him.

“What?”

“This game,” Podbyrin expanded, nodding at the chess board between them. “Mate in three moves. You are distracted today.”

“Well Gosh, D’mitry,” McKay grinned crookedly, “what could I possibly have to be distracted by?”

“You are supposed to be resting,” the Russian reminded him. “That is why we are stopped here, no?”

“I slept for ten hours,” McKay muttered, looking at the chessboard sourly and seeing that Podbyrin hadn’t been exaggerating. He tipped over his king and they began to reset the pieces.

“Knowing you, McKay, you probably worried in your damned dreams.” Podbyrin said with a snort. Then he shrugged. “I do admit, sitting here orbiting this rock makes me nervous too. The gate is not that far away… if they come through, they will see us here.”

“We didn’t have much choice. We had to repair a dozen damaged relays and get the antimatter storage canisters we retrieved at Novoye Rodina hooked back into the drive system. And we’d been on alert for three straight days-the crew needed the downtime.” McKay shrugged. “Besides, we already had two Protectorate ships come through the gate and they just passed right on through without seeing us.”

“Der’mo!” Podbyrin spat. “And no one bothered to mention it?”

“The duty crews were on alert. Commander Nunez didn’t want to wake the others needlessly.” He frowned. “Plus, if there are any other Protectorate sleeper agents on board, we didn’t want to give them any ideas.”

“I have been thinking about this,” the Russian said, drumming his fingers on the chessboard as pondered his first move. “It does not seem like something General Antonov would do.”

“Huh?” McKay peered at him curiously. “I met the man and I would say there’s not too much beneath him.”

“No, my friend,” Podbyrin said, chuckling, as he advanced a pawn cautiously. “I didn’t mean that it was too evil for him, I meant that it was too subtle.” He waved a hand demonstratively. “The General can be brilliant and bold, but at heart he is a direct man, not possessed of such subtlety. If he were, we… the Protectorate, that is… would have won the war, won both wars: the first one with the Chinese and the second against your Republic. I was working on that bioweapon, remember, when the invasion was occurring. If he had been patient, if he had waited even a few months we might have had it ready. Then he could have controlled the only treatment for it and held all of Earth hostage to it.”

McKay felt a prickling on his neck listening to this man speak so calmly about potentially killing millions of people and he remembered again that just because Podbyrin was his ally didn’t change the fact that he had been a dangerous fanatic at one time.

“But he had his plan and it was the one that could be implemented the soonest and the simplest. And he had little patience for anyone who told him he was wrong… it was to the point where no one wanted to be the one to tell him bad news. If General Antonov had hijacked the Patton, one of your star cruisers, he would never have given it back. He lacks the patience to give up the immediate reward for something more long term.”

McKay’s eyes stared through the chessboard as he considered what Podbyrin had said. “You know, D’mitry, you’re right, this is a bit of a complicated and risky plan for him. Why wouldn’t he have kept the Patton when he had her?” He glanced up at the Russian. “Is there an advisor he might have listened to more after being defeated in the invasion of Earth?”

“Hell no!” Podbyrin’s answer was a scornful laugh. “After we lost the war with China, he blamed everyone but himself! He blamed you Americans most of all, even though you didn’t fire a shot in the war. No, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he blamed the failure of the invasion on me… and, to be fair, it was my fault for being captured rather than killing myself.”

“What if he didn’t make it back from Earth?” McKay suggested almost reluctantly. “Is there anyone else with more patience and foresight who would have taken over?”

Podbyrin thought about that for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he finally answered. “The General did not encourage initiative among his officers. They had a plan and they would stick to it or die. If someone did take over, it would take them a long time before giving up on his return. Mere months after the war… no, none of them would have the initiative and intelligence to come up with this plan so quickly.”

“Well great,” McKay said morosely, pushing forward a pawn of his own. “As if I didn’t have enough to think about. I’m playing chess with someone and I can’t see their side of the board.” He snorted a laugh. “Half the time it feels like I can’t see my own side of the board.”

“General Antonov was never much of a chess player,” Podbyrin told him, making another move. “I used to beat him every time. It made him mad as hell, but he kept playing me, always confident he would get it right next time.” He looked up and caught McKay’s eye. “It comes to me that you are not playing chess with the General alone. There is another player here who thinks farther ahead.”

“If you’re right, then we aren’t sailing into safe harbor going home,” McKay said softly, advancing a knight.

“How do you know that?” Podbyrin asked, voice taking on a sharp, suddenly-worried tone.

McKay shrugged, seeming preternaturally calm. “As far as we know, there’re only two forces out there with access to star travel: the Republic and the Protectorate. Someone hijacked the Patton and whoever it was had access to star travel. If you’re right, and Antonov isn’t behind this, or at least isn’t the one planning it, who else does that leave?”

“Someone on Earth,” Podbyrin realized, half-moaning. “Bozhemoi.” He frowned, confused. “But it had to have been Protectorate forces that took the ship… your Admiral said he saw biomech troopers there.”

“It had to be the Protectorate,” McKay agreed with a nod. “But you’re telling me that it can’t have been Antonov and it can’t have been anyone else in his officer corps. And then there’s Mironov, who certainly thought he was Antonov’s duplicate and I can tell you he acted like he was Antonov.”

“So it was Antonov, and yet I do not see how it could be him,” Podbyrin mused, taking a moment to move a rook. “This… this is an interesting problem. Do you have any ideas?”

“D’mitry, all I have is ideas right now. I have facts that could fit together in a hundred different ways and all of them are pretty bad.” He moved one of his knights again, then sat back in his chair. “But the longer I think about it, the more sure I am that the timing of all this is no coincidence. Things are bad back home: a lot of people with a lot of money and power stand to lose everything, and I don’t think they’ll let that happen without a fight, even if it means dealing with the Devil.”

“What do you plan to do, McKay?” Podbyrin asked as he took a knight with his rook.

“I plan to trust Shannon,” he told the Russian, grinning ruefully. “She’s a much better chess player than I am.”

* * *

Charlie Klesko wiped sweat from his shaved head with the back of his hand, swearing softly under his breath at the Houston humidity and the way the late afternoon sun was reflecting off the marble tile floor in Commerce Square. His dark eyes flicked from side to side, from the other security agents arrayed at various key positions in the square to the crowds of tourists and gawkers wandering through, to the cluster of Republic HoloNet reporters