“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do,” Lee decided. “See what you think about this…”
“No,” Maia decreed, sitting up and working out the details. “I’m not gonna wait until in the morning, Lee! Because you’re right. They’re gonna be on the move now, looking to take out all of the loose ends they can find, and Nick is one of those loose ends! For that matter, so are you, so you need to lay low. Again, dammit. We have a plan, here; I’m initiating it now.”
“All right, honey,” Lee decided. “I can’t say as I can argue with that logic. Go for it, and if I can help you in any way, just yell.”
Colonel Maia Peterson, Assistant Chief of the Investigations Division of the Imperial City Police Department, was waiting in the classic nondescript VR meeting room when another being popped in.
Kurt Walder was older, a grizzled veteran police officer in the Catalonia Sector.
And he was an old friend.
Of Peterson…and Carter.
“Kurt,” Peterson said, “I need a favor, and it’s a big one. And it’s not just me asking. Lee Carter is here with me.”
“Damn,” Walder said, his grizzled eyebrows shooting up. “This is a good one. Let’s hear it.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Walder said, when Peterson finished explaining. Carter, who had popped into the meeting to provide his input as well, stood silently, waiting and listening.
“You know I can’t help out there, Kurt,” Carter said then. “Not these days.”
“No, I get that, Lee, and that’s fine,” Walder said. “I think I can handle this in a…let’s call it a back-door kind of way, here. I’ll get on it as soon as we’re done here. Meanwhile, I think you two need to get moving and contact…Ashton? Nick Ashton, right? That was his name?”
“Yes,” Peterson confirmed.
“Okay, call him and get him moving,” Walder declared. “I’ll take care of everything else from here. Oh, and it’s a courier job, just so you two know.”
“Couriering what?” Peterson wondered, puzzled.
Walder grinned.
“Information,” he said.
“Ah. Done,” Peterson replied, knowing.
By morning of the next day, Dominick Ashton was already on a transport to Catalonia, along with all of his personal possessions, helped to pack by the complete Team that Gorski had assembled, and which he had led in successive, and successful, perpetrator apprehensions. And of which, as Gorski pointed out, that made him unequivocally a “big brother.” And they would take care of that brother, no matter what.
Truthfully, it felt like a punishment of some sort, but Ashton decided that was illogical. After all, he thought, if they can reach the Empress, they’re not gonna stop until they’ve taken me out. I was already in their sights, almost from the time I hit the streets for the first time as a cop.
He had only just gotten to sleep, after the horror of watching the news feed about the Palace attack, and the reports that the Empress and all her family had perished in the attack, when the emergency call came in from Peterson…and Carter. Within ten minutes, Detective Gorski had arrived with Rassmussen, Armbrand, and several others, including Cally, and the lot had gone around his flat, grabbing his personal items and packing them into transport cases they’d brought with them, while he got dressed. Then they escorted him to the Imperial City Spaceport, refusing to stop – “Police business!” Gorski would bark, if anyone tried to detain the group – until Ashton was on the tarmac, boarding the shuttle to the Imperial Interstellar liner, the IIS Adannaya II.
The sun had not even risen yet.
At least they had given him some privacy when he had kissed Cally goodbye.
One man was on the commuter train to the spaceport when Gorski & Co. boarded it with Ashton. That man was one of Kershaw’s informants, Mark Martin. As soon as he recognized Dominick Ashton, he dropped into VR and sent a high priority message. Within moments, he got a response.
“Kershaw. That you, Martin?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve spotted Ashton, sir.”
“Where is he, and what’s he doing?”
“He’s on the commuter train to the spaceport, being escorted by what look to be plainclothes Imp City police.”
“Likely they’re taking him off-planet. After a certain successful little event last night, they probably figure he’s a dead man if they don’t. And they’re right.”
“What do you want me to do? I can’t possibly get through three big burly cops to get to him. Not alone.”
“Follow him. You were planning on a little jaunt anyway, weren’t you? You were headed for the spaceport, so you should have all the luggage you need.” Kershaw paused. “I’ll see you get sent on your personal trip once we’ve eliminated Ashton.”
“Yes, sir. Sure, I can do that.”
“Good. Do it.”
Mark Martin was half a dozen people in line behind Ashton, to board the shuttle that would take them all to the IIS Adannaya II.
No one recognized him.
Within hours of the departure of the IIS Adannaya II from Sintaran orbit, anyone to whom Martin would have reported – or who could have provided him with the personal trip he canceled to take this mission, assuming they had actually followed through with that promise – was dead. Emperor Trajan had ascended to power, and he had carried out his sister’s final decrees: to dissolve the Imperial Council and execute its councilmen and staff – save Saaret, who had remained loyal – and to execute the corrupt police officials in IPD Headquarters.
But Martin had no way of finding out that critical bit of information. Not with
