The one-hundred-watt smile never faded. “Completely.” Grant turned back to Tehrani. “While I don’t need your agreement, Colonel, I would much rather we do this action as partners, with the Zvika Greengold’s senior officers buying into the plan.”
Bile rose in Tehrani’s throat. How the operative assumed her ship was his to do with as he pleased offended her to the core. She clenched her jaw. “I obey lawful orders from my chain of command.”
Grant pulled a tablet out of his jacket and passed it over to her. “You’ll see those are counter-signed by all the proper authorities.”
Tehrani examined the orders. As Grant had indicated, they ordered her to attack the League staging depot and capture it if at all possible. “This gives me broad latitude once the battle is joined, Agent.” She smirked. “Let’s get something straight. If I think the operation is going south at any time, I’ll destroy the depot rather than waste the lives of my pilots, Marines, and soldiers. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Colonel.” Again, Grant flashed the creepy smile.
This guy gives me the shivers. Tehrani looked for any hint of deception in his face. “What CDF forces will be available besides the stealth raider and the Greengold?”
“None. The rest of your battlegroup will continue with several ships from the station’s defense fleet to the next series of jumps. This entire operation hinges on the League not knowing we’re coming. If command were to bring in a larger force, I believe it would blow our chance at a major intelligence coup.” Grant steepled his fingers. “Look, I get it. I’m a dirty civilian telling the military what to do. You don’t trust spooks. I probably wouldn’t, either, if I were in your shoes. But I want the same thing you do—the Terran Coalition winning this war. We’re not going to win by brute force. It’s going to take guile and bold strokes. Help me pull this off.”
Even though the warning bell that Grant couldn’t be trusted was still ringing, his words seemed sincere, which reassured Tehrani enough to proceed. “Okay. You’ve got yourself a carrier.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t make me regret this, Agent.”
“I won’t, Colonel. Thank you all, and Godspeed.” He stood. “I’ll see myself out.”
The moment the hatch closed, Wright brought his hand down on the table. “Please, tell me we’re not considering this bullshit.”
“Major, orders are orders,” Tehrani replied.
“Skipper, that guy isn’t the one putting his rear end on the line. Come on. What happens if we jump in there and find twenty Leaguer capital ships waiting for us?”
“Then we either jump out immediately or take as many of the bastards out with us as we can,” Whatley stated in his raspy tone. “This is going to be a risky op. But if we can pull it off, it’ll pay off in spades.”
Wright looked between the two of them. “Okay. I’m outnumbered.” He grinned. “I’m going to reserve the right to tell you ‘I told you so’ when this goes to hell in a handbasket.”
“I’ll deserve it if it does,” Tehrani replied. She turned toward Whatley. “Brief your pilots. But, Major, I want volunteers. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. This ship’s full of heroes.” Whatley grumbled good-naturedly, “To the point that it’s annoying.”
All three of them laughed.
“You’ve got that right,” Wright said while shaking his head. “Your orders, ma’am?”
“Get us ready to fight.” Tehrani stood. “I’m going to head down to noon prayers. Let’s meet back here in three hours to discuss status.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Whatley replied crisply as he jumped out of his chair.
Wright was right behind him.
“Dismissed, gentlemen.” Tehrani turned on her heel and strode out of the conference room.
The trip through the ship took some time and gave her the mental space to think. While she had a vague sense of misgiving about the ad-hoc nature of the upcoming mission, she felt more focused on the chance to strike back. We’re on constant defense. This is one opportunity to strike a blow against the League on our terms. The prospect brought a smile to her face.
When the call came in for a briefing for the entire air wing, Justin almost missed it. He had busied himself with additional simulator training, practicing advanced space-combat maneuvers based on the behavior observed so far from the Leaguer pilots. His handcomm buzzed enough that he eventually paid attention and received the message. As a result, Justin walked into the ready room with only a few minutes to spare.
“Ah, good of you to join us, Lieutenant,” Whatley called as he cleared the hatch.
Almost all the pilots were already assembled, and Justin felt his cheeks warm ever so slightly. Rookie mistake. I’d better turn up the volume on my shipnet alerts. Chastened and mildly annoyed by the rebuke, he nodded at the CAG and took one of the remaining open seats.
“Now that we’re all here, I can get down to business,” Whatley said. “Thanks to some fancy flying and more holovid heroics from Spencer here—”
Hoots, hollers, and cheers cut in. A few pilots—all from the Black Hogs squadron, as they were the closest—slapped Justin on the back.
“You guys want to hear what’s coming?” Whatley interjected. “Or we can go back to boosting Lieutenant Spencer’s ego to unsafe levels.” The barb was delivered with a smile, and it hit Justin as being good-natured.
Once they’d all settled down, he continued, “As I was saying, since Wonder Boy here brought home a League fighter, the eggheads took it apart and discovered something.” He touched a button on the holovid control built into the briefing lectern. “The enemy has set up shop inside our borders.”
The projection came alive with a 3-D-rendered
