Liberation – Snippet 2
Liberation, The Bad Company Book Four
By Craig Martelle & Michael Anderle
Unedited
Snippet #2
Keeg Station
“It’s something we would do no matter what. Dad thinks he coerced us to join, but Marcie and me? We had two kids, a family, but we were denying who we wanted to be and that was defenders of the oppressed. The one thing that has made the most sense in our lives is Dad’s commitment to helping others. He always says that if you have the ability to act, you have the responsibility. We believe that. Few people are built for war. Humanity’s basic instinct is to live more sedate lives. Travel for excitement, but return home at the end of a long day to a happy family, a good meal, and a warm bed. My parents have been killing themselves for as long as they’ve been alive to give others that life. The FDG is our chance to do that on a planetary scale. If we can help bring peace by crushing an enemy’s army, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“I’d say you fuckers were raised wrong, but my parents and their friends raised me to believe that, too. I get angry and in my,” Christina looked around to make sure no one was close by, “Pricolici form, I want to shred them like cabbage.”
“Step back from that and don’t change form. As Terry’s deputy, he’ll need you to help him oversee the battle, but when the rubber meets the road and you’re forced into close combat, the gloves come off and you crush your enemies,” Marcie explained. Her lip twitched as the adrenaline surged. She clenched her fists.
Christina punched her in the chest. “I’m in. Let’s go buy some new shoes to celebrate.” Marcie smiled, not in humor, but in the way warriors did as they prepared to engage the enemy.
It was the confidence of someone who was more at home in war than in peace.
Christina smiled the same way.
Kae watched expressionlessly. He felt sorry for the clerk in the shoe store. I think I’ll wait outside, he thought. Until Marcie and Christina each grabbed an arm and propelled him between them toward a store called Camper, a store brand taken from the fashion scene of old Earth’s London. Kae groaned and frowned as the women sought a future addition to their wardrobes. Kaeden looked at their feet. They were both wearing shoes. What the hell do you need another pair for?
He didn’t dare say it aloud.
Liberation – Snippet 1
Liberation, The Bad Company, Book Four
By Craig Martelle & Michael Anderle
Undedited
Snippet #1
Keeg Station
“A change of scenery will probably help.”
“Among other things, my friends,” Aaron replied cryptically. “We will help her, with all that we are, because she deserves that and more.”
Yanmei reached upward and bent at the waist until she touched her toes. She slowly stretched downward until her palms were on the floor. Cory mirrored her.
Aaron excused himself and joined them, adjusting Cory slightly before assuming his stance. His long arms touched the floor before he finished bending. After a solid thirty seconds they rose. Three iterations later, they lunged forward into the warrior pose. Cory slowly assumed the position. Yanmei reached over to straighten one of Cory’s arms, rotating until her arm was under Cory’s supporting it. Aaron moved to support her back arm. They remained in that position until Cory’s legs began to shake. They stood up and shook out before moving into a new pose.
In between poses, they didn’t give her time to think. It was the first step on a long road, not to forget, but to live a life as it had become. Move forward, one second at a time, one step at a time.
Char stood and stretched the tightness from her legs. She had overdone it, just like her husband. Terry rotated his shoulder, flexing, twisting, and wincing. After all the years and the treatments in the Pod-doc, it still gave him problems, especially when he worked out like a madman. He folded his hands in front and watched his daughter do something other than cry.
It had been tearing at his heart, because her grief was so profound, and there was nothing he could do about it. Terry felt the burden of life weighing him down, not able to shake the crushing mass. Char carried her own angst, every bit as great. No parent could watch their child go through what Cory was going through without having it grate on their very souls.
It gave them hope seeing their friends intervene and slowly lead Cory onto the road to recovery.
Terry breathed slowly and deeply, licking his lips and picking up his towel. “What do you say we find Ted and ask how things are going?”
“We have dinner with them tonight. He might get suspicious if we talk with him twice in the same day.”
“True,” Terry agreed. “Then let’s get changed and walk around. See if there’s any color we can add back into this station.”
“I know what you mean,” Char said softly. “It’s like everything is shades of gray.”
“Fifty?” Terry injected light-heartedly.
“Don’t you start with that.” Char pushed Terry playfully, her purple eyes sparkled for a moment.
Normalcy. Maybe it wasn’t such a distant thing.
After one last look at the weretigers working with their daughter, they walked away, feeling much better than when the day started.
REBORN AUDIOBOOK RELEASE!
Reborn: The Age of Magic Book 8
By CM Raymond, LE Barbant, & Michael Anderle
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Lilith is dying.
The Laughing Queen is coming.
A series of mysterious disappearances are plaguing New Romanov.
Good thing Team Triple B is on the case.
In order to save the people that she loves, Hannah must push her magical abilities to the limit. But what if she pushes herself too far?
Reborn is the epic conclusion to the second arc of The Rise of Magic. It’s a race against the clock adventure that will change the very fabric of Irth and open doors Hannah never even knew existed.
Gateway to the Universe: In Bad Company Audiobook!
Gateway to the Universe: In Bad Company
By Michael Anderle, Craig Martelle, & Justin Sloan
They say that behind every great man is a great woman…but what if that woman is a Werewolf?
What happens when Terry and Char meet Bethany Anne?
They get to do the Empress’ bidding, but not on Earth. With the infamous Valerie of New York, to space they go, to become the Direct Action Branch of Nathan Lowell’s Bad Company.
Before they reach Nathan on the other side of the galaxy, they find that space is a dangerous place, even for the wary, especially for the unprepared. Are you ready to join them on their epic journey?
Alpha Class: Discovery – Snippet 3
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Alpha Class Dormitory
There were mixed feelings in the Alpha class dorm.
The kids surrounded Nestor, who would be leaving them for the semester, and Yana. Their separate assignments had come as a shock to the Wechselbalg cousins, Maxim especially. He and Nestor were closer than brothers, and had expected to get into the fighter group together. None of the kids wanted to be separated from the rest of their team.
Maxim was grumbling as he packed his belongings.
As always, Yana took charge. “Cheer up,” she said stoically. “It is only for six weeks. You get to stay with the Guardians, and John Grimes will be your mentor, Maxim. John Grimes!” She sighed wistfully at the thought of the Queen’s Right Hand.
Maxim blushed. “It is good, da. I will be learning from the best. It is honor to me—and to my father—to be chosen. But I will miss my brother from another mother.” He squeezed Nestor’s shoulder.
“I agree with Yana. Six weeks is not long to be apart,” Nestor declared. “I am almost a little jealous you get to take advanced combat with him, but I will become an ace pilot. So like you say, is good.”
Tina giggled and pretended to gag. “All right, give it a rest. It’s weird seeing you people swoon over my Uncle John. Who did you get, Yana?”
Yana’s regal face brightened when she tapped her tablet to reveal her own assignment. “I have been placed with your mother to learn leadership and management skills. How wonderful! What about you? You too, Ron…who did you get?”
“Jean Dukes,” they said at the same time. It was their turn to blush. The whole team erupted into fits of giggles.
“Oooh, our lovebirds get to stay together!” Yana trilled.
Ron spluttered, his face turned beet-red, and he made a big deal of looking at his tablet screen. Tina laughed Yana’s teasing off. It was an open secret that she and Ron had become close—especially since the meeting of their minds now turned into a meeting of their lips whenever the adults weren’t looking.
Ron looked up from his tablet, embarrassment forgotten. “Jean’s class is going to be awesome. Look here—planning and application of resources, bootstrapping, the practical applications of engineering. Wait, that can’t be right… There’s no PT anywhere on my schedule this semester. I love this school!”
“What?” Yana held her hand out for Ron’s tablet. “No way!” She checked her own after confirming it was true. “I have regular training scheduled. I’m going to miss being with you all so much. I haven’t made many friends outside our team.”
“You could always request to come with us,” Tina said.
Yana shook her head. “No. Who would take care of Bai Hu if I went to the other side of the station? You know he’ll only let me or Guardian Commander Silvers near him. He needs me. Besides, I’m looking forward to a quiet semester. It was scary being shot at by the Mongolian and Chinese armies, and it was worse not being able to fight back. I need time to train.”
“I’ll come train with you, even though I get a pass this semester too,” Tina offered. “If I have time, that is. It’s weird that we get a pass when the administrators have just put all the new fitness requirements in place. How are we going to meet them if we don’t train?”
“What if it’s because Ms. Dukes will have us doing hard labor all semester?” Ron piped up from across the room, where he was pulling his shoes out of his locker. “You know that her R&D department is in charge of transforming all the stuff BMW comes up with into reality.
Yana interjected, “We’d better get going, or we’ll be late for breakfast.”
They all agreed on that, grabbing their tablets and exiting the dorm in a noisy rush.
Alpha Class: Discovery – Snippet 2
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Earth Orbit
Diane and Dorene poured over the schedules for the umpteenth time. Dorene stamped her foot in frustration. “They start in two days, and we still haven’t gotten the assignments pinned down! Whose idea was it to mess with the class schedules?”
Diane looked up. “That would have been you, DJ. It’s going to be worth the hassle. The competition for a spot in one of the two fighter groups this semester was one of your best ideas yet! The kids took their skills to the next level to try and win a place.” She took a second to smooth her braid, catching a loose strand and tucking it in while she stared at the roster on the desk. “Look at Todd Grimes’ scores. He’s going to be one our best pilots when he grows up. We knew it would cause problems this term, so we just have to suck it up.”
Dorene cheered up at that. “You’re right, dear. I was speaking to one of the fighter boys last week. Thomas, his name was—nice young man with such a cute…”
Diane arched an eyebrow.
Dorene hid her laugh with a cough. “He told me that the students’ training tactics are being added to the playbook as fast as the kids come up with them.” She took a sip of the cooling coffee on her desk and set it down again with a grimace. “Ugh. Aleksi from Delta is applying his skills in statistics to the planning of the gaming events now. He’s got the whole thing running as smooth as silk.”
Diane agreed, “It’s getting competitive! The top ten deserve to get specialist training, and increasing their knowledge base can only help them improve on what they’re already achieving. But it is going to be a total nightmare for the scheduled core classes. Our faculty are extending themselves to fit the classes into their schedules as it is. They don’t have the time to repeat the class when the fighter groups are done. Those students will have missed out. We can’t have that, DJ.”
Diane’s brow furrowed in thought. “It’s a good idea, we’re just not thinking big enough.” She began tapping on her tablet and muttered, “I have the solution. There’s already one group specializing this semester, so why not go the whole hog and send each student to the place they’re likely to end up when they graduate? We have their aptitude scores from the entrance exams, and we can use those to build a list of skillsets and assign a mentor to each.”
Dorene stared open-mouthed at her twin for a moment as the idea sank in. “That’s…genius. We split all the classes, sharpening the individual students and strengthening the teams overall in the process. Then no student misses out on the core skills.”
She began making a new list.
Diane dropped her tablet on the desk with a flourish. “I’ve just sent a memo to all department heads, telling them their future replacements are coming to spend the semester learning from them.”
The two just looked at each other for a moment, imagining what the teachers would do when they got that email, then burst into laughter.
Diane wiped a tear from her eye. “Let’s arrange it all before the conscripted mentors descend on us. If we’re going to create chaos, let it be organized chaos!”
Alpha Class: Discovery – Snippet 1
United Kingdom, North Wales, Undisclosed Location
The door of the sterile room opened. The woman twisted her wrists, attempting to relieve the pinch of the cable ties holding them to a metal loop embedded into the tabletop. She looked up, meeting the expectant stares of the sharply dressed men as they took the chairs in front of her, one at a time.
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you scumbags know who I work for? You’re going to be in a world of hurt when my bosses find out you’ve taken me!” She worked her wrists one more time for good measure.
And got nowhere.
The man to her left gave a brief, brittle smile. “Don’t worry, Dr. Llewellyn. You are only scheduled for a short visit. It is your position at TQB Enterprises that drew our attention to you.”
The second man took a sheaf of papers from his briefcase and passed it to the first, who shuffled them, looking for something. “Ah, there we are. Doctor Laura Llewellyn. Early graduation from university, straight into a research position. Stayed there until your radical thesis on isostatic pressing interested TQB enough that they bought you a castle.” He looked up at her. “Is all of that correct?”
She pulled against the ties on her wrists again, to no avail. “Do you know my underwear size as well? Creepy little man—that’s what you are. Let. Me. Go! I’ll report you to the authorities, I will! You won’t get away with this!”
“We are the authorities, Doctor Llewellyn.” The man smiled blandly. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet to show her his identification. There was an MI5 watermark in the background.
He leaned forward just a touch. “You see, we are working on behalf of Her Majesty’s government. You are in the position to assist us in a matter of vital national importance. This will all go away in an instant if you get us the specs for TQB’s armor and guns.”
The man—Agent Broadbent—put his wallet away and straightened up. “What will it be, Doctor? Will you do the right thing?”
“That’s not the right thing, and no, I won’t do it. TQB has been good to this nation—especially here in North Wales—and I won’t betray them!” Her eyes narrowed in defiance and her mouth pursed in an angry grimace. “You can go to Hell, the lot of you!”
Broadbent tutted and shook his head. His face was sad as he took a smartphone out of his immaculate suit jacket. He sent a message, then pulled up a video with a couple of swipes and held it out for her to see. She gasped when she saw her husband and two children being shoved roughly into a scruffy Ford Transit van by more suited agents.
“Doctor Llewellyn, you have put me in a difficult position. I was hoping we could avoid such nastiness, but your lack of cooperation has given me no choice.” He put the phone away. “Look, I don’t want to have to do this. Using innocent citizens as leverage is beyond the pale, but my bosses want those specs. These are frightening times, Laura. May I call you Laura? You must know what is happening in the wider world. War is everywhere, and it will reach our shores soon enough. We need those weapons.” He leaned in, placing a hand atop hers. “England needs you.”
Laura pulled her hand away quickly, ignoring the bite of the ties when she jerked them tight. “I don’t give a damn about what England needs. England sure as hell doesn’t give a crap about Wales! What have you done to my family? Where have you taken them?” She strained against her restraints, spitting mad.
Broadbent sat rigidly in his chair, his face stony. “Histrionics will get you nowhere, Doctor Llewellyn. Why not just do as I ask? Then your family goes free and we forget about all this unpleasantness.” He waved at her. “The nation will be indebted to you for your service. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
She shook her head resolutely. “No, it doesn’t. It sounds like the biggest pile of horse crap I’ve ever heard.” She sighed heavily. “Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t do it. It’s not my department!” she finished, her voice just a touch less strident.
“Dr. Llewellyn, if you do not comply, I assure you that the consequences for your family will not be pleasant. See?” Broadbent took out his phone and displayed the video stream again. Laura repressed a sob at the sight of her children crying in their father’s arms. They were huddled together in the back of the dirty van, shell-shocked and afraid. “Just do as we ask. Then they go free.”
Laura’s head dropped in defeat. “If I get caught I’m sending them straight to you! My family…” she asked, jerking her chin at the phone. “Where are you taking them? You’d better not hurt them!”
The other man spoke. “They are safe—for now. But you understand what’s at stake here, Doctor Llewellyn: if you do not do as we ask, I will be delivering much sadder news. Her Majesty must have those specifications.”
Committed – Snippet 3
Chapter 2
Aboard The Scamp Princess, Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
“Okay, another twenty minutes, and that will be all of it. Oz, you got that?”
“Yes. Downloading fine.”
“Good.” Brock leaned back on his haunches from under the console of The Scamp Princess. He started tidying his tools away.
Crash rocked gently in the navigator’s seat. “Sure there’s nothing I can do?”
Brock unplugged a connector from the console he had a device hooked into. “Not yet. Not until we’ve got any clue about where we’re going.” He winked at Crash.
Crash leaned an arm on the nearest console. “Okay. Well as soon as we do, I can get the coordinates plugged in and find out what we’ll be walking into.”
Brock continued to clean up tools and pieces of debris he’d left strewn around as he worked. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Shit, I can’t believe that all the time we were talking about our vacay, Sean was sitting there contemplating taking off without us.”
Crash just watched Brock.
“Makes me feel guilty for having gone away,” he continued.
“Hey, we needed a break,” Crash said flatly. “And maybe if Sean took a day off once in a while, he wouldn’t be wound so tightly.”
Brock snorted at the thought of Sean heading out to Club Sark with them. “Yeah. You may have a point. You don’t think he’s actually… you know? I mean, Scamp wouldn’t leave him if he were still alive so…” He left the thought hanging in the air, wanting closure, but also not wanting to be told his friend was dead.
Crash shook his head. “Stop thinking like that. He wouldn’t be the first military tool to bite off more than he can chew. Don’t worry. We’ll find him and bring him home,” he told him decisively. “And then give him shit about running off to save damsels on his own.”
Brock sighed. “Yeah. You’re right.” He packed away the last of the tools, leaving one connector hooked up to the console. “Okay, I’m going to take this lot over to The Empress. Nothing we can do until Oz finishes that transfer.”
Crash hauled himself to his feet. “Okay. I’ll pack a bag. Want me to do one for you, too?”
Brock nodded and rested his hand on Crash’s bicep as they headed out of the cockpit. “Thanks, man.”
Crash patted him gently on the back, comforting him. “It’s all gonna be fine,” he reiterated.
The pair made their way through the passage to the side door and carefully headed down the invisible staircase to the hangar deck.
Aboard The Empress, Hangar Deck, Gaitune-67
The crew clambered on board The Empress. It was familiar territory and comforting, despite the unspoken dread that their mission may already be a failure before it had begun.
And yet, no one dared admit that Sean may already be dead.
Jack plonked herself opposite Pieter, who was more anxious than normal. She smiled at him reassuringly, without being too nice. Too friendly, and he would know that they were worried, and that would stop his brain from doing what they needed him to do.
She glanced over at Joel. Joel nodded, catching on to her tactic to keep Pieter calm.
Pieter, oblivious, threw his pack into an overhead locker and sat down. A moment later, he was up again and fussing with his pack. Jack watched without looking directly at him, smiling to herself as if she were just a fly on the wall. Detached. Collected.
Molly was the last one to board. Joel had seen her giving her instructions to Paige. He hovered, not quite deciding where he would sit. Jack was on to him. He was going to pull “Operation: Calm Molly Down.”
She stomped through the cabin with her pack and gun belt thrown over her shoulder. Her holo hadn’t been closed down, and if she had been wearing boots with laces, Joel guessed they wouldn’t have been tied, either.
She threw her pack down on a lounge chair and collapsed next to it, preventing anyone from sitting next to her.
Joel, quick as a flash, grabbed his jacket and mirrored her move by throwing his jacket down in the chair opposite her and plonking himself down across from her.
That was as close as he was going to get. Clearly.
The gentle hum of the drive started up. Crash’s normal banter was nowhere to be heard in the liftoff process. In fact, Molly found herself checking out the window to confirm they were indeed airborne and heading out of the hangar. Only Emma’s voice recited the normal announcements and safety notices.
Molly closed her eyes and allowed the process to wash over her. She tried to still her mind as Arlene had taught her in her realm-jumping training.
Her body was a mishmash of emotions. Emotions she’d rather not have to deal with right now.
She felt a nudge on her leg and reluctantly opened one eye, letting the outside world invade. Joel was looking at her pointedly. He’d nudged his knee against hers.
“What?”
“Wondering if you’re ready to talk.” He nodded at her bag on the seat in front of him. She took the hint and moved it to the one opposite her where he’d dumped his jacket. Joel deftly moved from his seat to the one next to her and buckled his harness.
“You’re taking this hard,” he said quietly.
Molly shoved her arm onto the outside armrest and stared out of the window. Her other shoulder half shrugged.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” Joel persisted, “but we need to. You need to.”
Molly turned her head and glared at him.
“I’m here for you,” he continued, ignoring the glare and looking straight ahead of him now. He knew how to handle Molly and her avoidance strategies. She just needed to feel safe enough to open up.
And not pushed.
He readjusted himself in his chair so that his upper arm was touching hers. He felt her defenses come down. All the hardness that she used to shield herself from her own feelings melted, and a single tear trickled down her face.
She sniffed as quietly as she could and rummaged for a tissue to catch the tears before anyone else could see.
“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she confided.
Joel’s gaze snapped to her. She continued to look down at the tissue, avoiding his eyes. “What’s changed?” he asked.
Molly shrugged. He could see the tension welling inside of her again. He didn’t want her to start crying here in front of the crew. She wouldn’t want that, and it wasn’t fair on her. But she needed to process.
He leaned in a little more. “Is this about Sean?”
“Kinda. But also everything else.” She paused and swiped away another tear. “It’s just one thing after another. It feels like it never ends. I’m exhausted.”
Joel bobbed his head and pressed his arm more against hers. She responded and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He glanced over at Jack and Pieter, wondering if he should put his arm around her, or whether that would arouse too much interest from the others.
He decided against it. “Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to get through this.”
“Will we?” she asked combatively. “I just can’t help thinking that if I wasn’t around, none of this would be happening.”
Joel frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Sean. He wouldn’t have needed to go off on his own. He’d still be with the Federation and have their backup.”
Joel’s brow furrowed deeper, confused at what she was saying.
Molly continued. “You can’t ignore the fact that his relationship with them has become strained because of his relationship with us.”
Joel hesitated, processing what she was saying. “Well, there may be some truth to that, but that’s not going to get him killed. And it’s certainly not your fault. What’s really going on?”
Molly pursed her lips. “Sean came to see me before he disappeared.”
“About his mission?”
“No. About me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks I have some ability to push my will onto people. Another side effect. He was going to report it to Lance, and I asked him not to.”
“And now he’s gone, and you’re feeling guilty.”
Molly sniffed, finally finding the strength to bring her gaze up to meet Joel’s. “And wondering if somehow I also influenced him to disappear…”
Joel put his arm around her. “That’s just crazy talk. I mean, even if you could push your will onto other people, you would never want him dead. You’re just not wired that way.”
“But what if it was a component of his decision making?”
Joel shook his head. “No way,” he told her firmly. “This thought process is a pattern you run. You look for ways to make things your fault. Or your responsibility.”
Molly allowed herself to sink against his body, allowing his arm around her to stay. “How do you figure that?” she mumbled.
“Look at all the things that have happened: the way you want to change every injustice on Estaria. The way you relate to each team member personally, helping them to find their groove. No way you could even accidentally do what you’re suggesting.”
Molly pulled away and tried to look at Joel. “You think I’m doing things wrong?”
“No,” he corrected her. “I think there is a reason that you’re wired this way, and if we understood it better, you wouldn’t need to feel so damn guilty all the time. So, what is it?”
“What you mean?”
“Well, what happened in your childhood? What is this really about?”
Molly thought for a long while, even though her mind had jumped immediately to what the issue was that Joel was trying to get out of her.
Eventually she spoke, sitting up a little. Joel removed his arm.
“I was about twelve. I’d been hacking into my parent’s EI to find out stuff. Actually, stuff about The Empress. Rumors. History. Missions. There wasn’t much, but I used the EI because it had greater reach, beyond just the local Estarian network.”
Joel nodded.
“Well,” she continued, “my parents had told me it was off limits. Turns out, they had been using it for the business and had taken it offline because they were attracting heat from certain criminal elements in their line of work.”
“And you got it back online?”
She nodded, fiddling with her tissue. “Yeah. I must have triggered some flags or something because one night, I heard something in the house. And shouting. I went downstairs and there were men in the house—in full combat gear. With guns.”
“Who were they?”
Molly shook her head. “I dunno. Dark ops. Mercenaries. We never found out. But they took my parents. At gun point.”
“Philip and Carol?”
She nodded again.
“But they’re still alive,” Joel reminded her, trying to understand what had happened.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “No thanks to me. They managed to escape somehow. Goodness knows how. They said something about having some help. They were gone for about a day. It was the worst day of my life. The police kept asking me questions about what happened, and their work, and their business. I didn’t know anything, but they treated me like a criminal. Like I knew what was happening.
“After they came back, the police had very few questions, and everything just seemed to go back to normal again. They wrapped up that business a few years later when Dad retired and Mom got some kind of government job. And we never really talked about it again. They just said it wasn’t my fault and that they were fine, so it didn’t matter.”
Joel frowned.
“But it was my fault,” she insisted. “If I hadn’t been poking around with that EI, none of it would have happened.”
Her voice started to break. Joel put his arm around her again as she sobbed quietly.
“Look,” he whispered. “I know it feels like it’s your fault, but things happen. Maybe the EI wasn’t the trigger. Maybe it was. They should have told you why the EI was offline. And besides, they’re still alive and doing fine. Something tells me that whatever they went through, it can’t have been that bad.”
Molly’s face was hidden from him. He felt his T-shirt getting wet from her tears. He held her tighter and continued to whisper in her ear. “It wasn’t your fault. You were a kid. You didn’t have all the information… and you don’t know what other good things that served.”
Her muffled voice spoke into his T-shirt. “I don’t understand…”
“Well, think about it. Maybe it was the shock your folks needed to get out of that business they were in. Sometimes these things demand too much of us, either in terms of risks we need to take or in terms of working too hard. Sounds like your folks were already taking risks, for those kinds of people to show up at the house.”
Molly’s sobbing subsided, and she became still.
“Also,” Joel continued, “imagine if they’d continued, and your dad didn’t retire. Maybe he would have ended up working too hard and giving himself a heart attack or something. Maybe your mum would have had problems if she hadn’t taken a more low-pressure job in the government.”
Molly nodded her head, still up against Joel’s T-shirt.
He squeezed her reassuringly under his arm. “Sounds like that was a well-timed warning shot to me. And they don’t seem too traumatized by any of it.”
She sat up. “No. You’re right. They were fine afterward. But that was the unnerving thing. Everything went back to business as usual.”
Joel’s eyes flickered with some kind of recognition.
“What?” Molly pressed.
Joel took a deep breath, thinking. “Well, I wonder… have you talked to them about it since? You know, now that you’re all grown up and all?”
Molly shook her head. “I’ve barely spoken to them at all since I escaped to university early.”
Joel pursed his lips. “Well, our perceptions as kids are super different from the reality of what happened. Sometimes, we misinterpret things, or we misunderstand. We try and make sense of it from the schemas that we’re operating from at the time, but as we get older, we have more understanding of the world. You know, you’re a lot older now. And you’ve seen a huge amount. You’ve got all your life and military experience. You think maybe if you talked to them about it now, you might understand it better?”
Molly sat herself up again, drying her eyes. “Yeah, probably,” she admitted.
Joel smiled. “Of course, it would mean braving your parents again. But it would probably be worth it.” He paused. “I’d come with you if that would help?”
Molly hesitated.
“No pressure,” he added. “I’m here for you, though.”
She bobbed her head then lunged forward to her bag on the other seat, rummaging for another tissue as a distraction. “Yeah, maybe. When we get Sean back…”
Joel put a hand on her back and rubbed it soothingly. “Okay, when we’ve got Sean back,” he agreed.
He checked over his shoulder, briefly catching Jack’s eye. Jack looked away quickly, respectful of their semi-privacy. Pieter looked like he had his implant feeding him sound and was off in his own little world.
Joel kicked back his seat and pretended to relax. He knew it was good for Molly for him to just hang nearby. Even if she didn’t understand that herself right now.
Aboard The Empress
Joel, Jack, and Pieter sat quietly, spread out through the main cabin of The Empress. Pieter had several holoscreens open and seemed to be continuing the work he had started as soon as they had access to Scamp’s data.
Molly gazed out of the window, her thoughts dancing from sensations of anxiety, to sadness, to determination, and back again.
“Molly?” Crash interrupted her thoughts through her audio implant.
Molly hit her audio device. “’Sup?”
“We’ve got a call coming in via the ship’s quiet link. It’s Giles, calling from The Scamp Princess.”
“Okay, patch him through.” She sat up in her seat and took a deep breath.
“Hi, Molly.” Giles’s voice announced himself in her ear. He sounded uncomfortable.
“Giles, hi. Everything okay?”
“Well, yes. Although not really. I heard about Sean, of course.”
Molly leaned her head backwards against her headrest, her gaze flicking to the ceiling. “Yes, we’re on our way to his last known now.”
“Good. Oz told you I offered my services?”
Molly assumed that was a question, even though his intonation suggested otherwise. “He did. Thank you.”
“Okay. Well, erm, the other thing is, we’ve had a lead on the talisman thing. So, erm… if you’ve cleared Scamp for duty, would you mind if Arlene and I went and chased this lead down?”
Molly processed the request for a moment. Her mind scrambled for any reasons for or against. Anything that wasn’t insurmountable. Then she hit one.
“What about the part where I needed you at the university to make sure everything is handled there?”
“Oh… erm. Right. Of course.”
There was a silence on the line. Molly felt Joel looking over at her but chose to remain focused on one conversation at a time. She knew he’d only interject in favor of Giles.
She spoke again. “How long do you think it will take?”
“Well, you know how these things are…”
“I have an idea,” she said.
“What if I promise to be back before the semester starts up again?”
“Yes, that would be fine. But stay in touch with Paige, and make sure that she can make any decisions that need making for the school.”
“Right you are. Thanks Molly. And… good luck.”
“You too, Giles. Good hunting.”
She could hear him breathing on the line for a second or two longer. She wondered if he might have something else to say. And then the line went dead. She turned her head and gazed out the window, watching the stars shift around them. She didn’t have the brain power to allocate any to Professor Kurns right now. She needed to stay laser focused on finding Sean.
Committed – Snippet 2
Base restrooms, Gaitune-67
Molly couldn’t stop her eyes from streaming. Her hands over her mouth, she tried to stifle the sobs. She leaned back against the wall of the restroom stall and put her hands to her head. It was throbbing.
It’s okay. We’re going to find him.
You can’t know that. What does the evidence say?
Molly sobbed again, thankful that she could have this conversation in her head and not have to speak the words. That would make it too real.
We don’t have enough data to conclude that he’s dead. And until we have the data pulled from Scamp, we won’t have a clue about what happened. Be patient. Don’t write him off so soon. Scamp only returned twenty minutes ago.
Molly didn’t respond. Her mind just couldn’t engage in conversation. She could barely see through her eyes, she had cried so hard.
I have to go. They’re waiting.
You’ve got a few more minutes. They’ll understand. They’re processing for themselves, too. They’ve never seen a ship return without a crew, either.
You mean they’re also crying.
No. But they’re worried and trying to wrap their heads around what might have happened.
They’re all in the conference room?
Yes. Mostly.
Okay. I’ve got to move.
Molly wiped her face with her hands and grabbed some tissue to dry them. She fumbled with the lock on the door and headed out to the basins. She hardly dared look at herself in the mirror. There was no way she would be able to fix the swollen eyes before walking in to face her team and give them their orders.
She opened the faucet and watched the water for a moment. Then she looked up.
Fuck.
It’s not that bad.
Not that bad? What do you know? You’re an AI.
I’ve been monitoring your body the whole time we’ve been connected. With cold water, you can reduce the swelling to acceptable levels. I’d suggest dabbing with a wet towel, though.
If she hadn’t been so distraught, she might have smiled at the notion of her AI giving her tactical beauty advice. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself again, pulling a blonde strand back from her face and hooking it behind her ear.
That’s going to have to do.
Well then, your subjects await.
Molly grabbed a paper towel and dried her face and hands before dropping the towel in the trash and heading out.
Turning left out of the corridor, she strode confidently up to the conference room and walked straight in. She did a quick assessment of who was present.
“Where’s Brock?” she asked.
Crash answered. “He’s already working on Scamp. He’s pulling every scrap of data to find out where he was and what happened.”
“Okay.” She closed the door and strode around to the head of the table. She didn’t sit though. “Here’s the plan. As soon as we have the coordinates, we’re going after Sean.”
She turned to Crash, who was sitting bolt upright awaiting instructions. “Crash, help Brock. Do whatever he needs to get us that data and get us airborne in The Empress.”
Molly turned to look at Joel and Jack on the left-hand side of the table. “You two are on supplies. Which includes weapons. Lots of them.”
Joel almost smiled. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, Molly suspected briefly that he would have punched the air.
Boys and guns, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
“Pieter and Oz,” she continued swiftly. “Start working on the data as Brock pulls it. Paige, you’re running point for this investigation. Let the general know Scamp is back, and see if there is anything else the Federation can tell us based on the data Pieter gathers.”
Paige raised her hand and spoke fast. “What about telling Giles and Arlene?”
Molly paused only long enough to draw breath. “Oz will take care of that. Maya you’re on food supplies. But then I need you and Paige to work from here when we leave. Any questions?”
Pieter raised his hand awkwardly. “What about Bourne?”
Molly’s brow furrowed. “What’s he doing?”
“Still binge-watching the archives,” Pieter said judgmentally.
Molly thought for a moment. “Is he likely to do anything else until we get back?”
Oz’s voice connected over the intercom for the conference room. “Unlikely, if past behavior is an indicator of future.”
“Fine,” Molly concluded. “Let’s leave him be. Anything else?” Molly’s gaze flicked around the room.
Everyone was silent. They knew what they had to do.
“Okay. Wheels up in two hours. Dismissed.”
No one spoke as they pushed back on the anti-grav chairs and filed hurriedly out of the conference room. Molly stayed out of their way for a minute while they vacated.
What do you want to tell Giles and Arlene?
That Scamp came back, and we’re going after his last known location. But Giles isn’t coming. He needs to stay here and look after things at the University.
And when he argues?
Tell him I’m putting my foot down.
Okay. On it.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly followed her team out of the doors and into the base corridors. She also had work to do before they left, and two hours was almost no time to get her head in gear.
Bates Residence, Estaria
The house was quiet. Philip knew it would be hours before Carol got home. Even on a regular week, she’d be the last one in the office. But he knew from her patterns and mood that this had been no regular week.
Their operative code kept them from discussing agency business at home. Carol insisted it was better for their relationship anyway. Philip wasn’t convinced. But that was what he had signed up for during his exit interview, knowing full well his wife would remain inside the fold when he stepped out.
No disclosure and therefore no lies, he reminded himself.
He paused, knowing full well what it would mean if he was discovered. Part of him didn’t care. Part of him was more concerned about protecting his daughter. He’d replayed the conversation he and Carol had had in the parking lot that day after seeing Molly… and Sean. No way had his wife really let it go, despite her protests that she had nearly been rumbled and had learned her lesson.
Carol didn’t learn lessons.
She just adapted.
He glanced over at the window for one final check. It was still daylight. And no sign of her car.
He sat down at the family terminal. Though the EI had been stripped out a long time ago, well before they’d moved to this property, certain things did remain. Like the agency-grade firewall and military-grade defense arrays. They weren’t stupid. They needed to protect their XtraNET connection. Plus, there were certain things they needed access to at all times, especially now Carol was head of the agency.
He woke the holoscreen and started picking his way through the security protocols. Technically, he wouldn’t have clearance. But he knew his wife well, and guessing her passwords had historically been a breeze.
The grandfather clock ticked pointedly in the hallway, pretending as though everything was just as peaceful as usual. But the hint of the seconds going past niggled in the back of Philip’s mind. He took a deep breath and entered the last protocol.
ACCESS GRANTED.
Yes! Still got it! He smiled to himself.
He ferreted through the most likely files. Anything under something inane like “Archive” was a likely candidate. He quickly found old case files mixed in with current ops. Most of them didn’t interest him. Just the usual stuff he used to deal with as an operative: politicians, unusual trading activity, statistically anomalous spikes in data or energy in core threat areas…
None of it was what he needed.
He kept rummaging, opening files methodically and eyeballing them as fast as he could.
Then he found a text file. It was labeled “Notes”. His brain honed in. The file contained a couple of strings of numbers. They looked like the right kind of length for them to be access codes for a network tap.
Gotcha!
He quickly memorized the strings. If these were what he thought they were, they would allow him to tap into whatever the live sting was on the network that connected directly up to the target. He’d have to be careful. Her techs would be able to see him access it, and the action would be time stamped, too. There would be logs. Detailed logs. But it would potentially give him the last bit of proof he needed when he finally found out what she was up to.
He started to close the holoscreens down, but then something caught his eye.
He stopped.
There was a link to her internal calendar. He poked it, and it opened up on another screen. He took a quick look, two weeks back and two weeks forward, mentally checking that against what he knew of her movements. She’d been late a number of times this week. Last night, she’d said she had a department meeting. But there was nothing in the calendar. Otherwise, it was convincingly populated.
He closed his eyes, checking he’d memorized it all correctly, then closed the holo. Shutting down the terminal, he wandered back to the kitchen, gathering his thoughts.
Snack and then thinking time, he told himself.
+++
Several hours later, the Sark had gone down.
Dinner time had come and gone.
All that remained was a dish that was ready to be relegated to the fridge for when Carol returned.
Philip sat reading in his favorite armchair in the living room when he heard the car pull up in the driveway.
There was the familiar clatter at the door and then in the hallway as Carol made her way inside.
“You’re pretty damn noisy for a spook!” her husband called playfully.
Her heels clipped across the floor and into the living space. She brought the scent of the night air in with her. “Well, it’s a good thing I wasn’t sneaking around then,” she retorted.
She appeared in the doorway, looking just as exhausted as every other day for weeks.
Philip smiled. “What’ve you been up to?”
She unceremoniously plonked her purse down on the chair by the door. “Just working late.”
“On what?”
Carol paused. “You know I can’t answer that.” She looked at him quizzically.
Philip got up, still smiling, and walked into the open-plan kitchen. “You know I know better than to just let it go.” He picked up the bottle of wine and reached for a couple of glasses, which he placed gently on the counter.
Carol approached the counter, drawn in by the idea of the alcohol hitting her system. “Yes, your tenacity is one of the reasons I married you. It’s late.” She looked around the kitchen for clues. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, but I saved you some. How about I heat it up and pour you a glass,” he poured the wine, “and you can tell me all about your day?”
Carol eyed him suspiciously. She had been married to a spy for nearly thirty years. “Sounds good. Let me just go and get out of this atmosuit, and then we can relax.”
She wandered out, feeling his gaze on her back.
+++
Dinner passed with very little probing. Carol wondered if maybe Philip realized that he was breaching protocol and had decided to back off.
Or maybe he just forgot that he had been suspicious? She smiled to herself as she gently drifted off to sleep in the soft bedclothes and half-light from the city beyond the bedroom window.
Philip waited until her breathing had settled to a slower rate and then made his move.
Carefully and slowly, he slipped out from between the bed covers and padded around the room. He reached her bedside table and lifted her holo from the charging pad. It lit up, but he moved it so that the light wouldn’t disturb his wife.
Slowly, he moved out into the hallway. The bathroom would normally have been a better option but too noisy. The dark quiet of the landing served him better.
He flicked straight through to the screens he needed. Flicking through the latest progress reports that had come in since she left the office.
From what he could make out, it was a Dark Net Op, or DNO. They had a whole team who handled this particular type of operation. The reports were stacked with probe responses and hypotheses. There weren’t any real interpretations of what their data was telling them, but it seemed that perhaps they were trying to figure out the owners and users of certain Estarian-based servers, under massive encryption and cyber security protocols.
Nothing unusual in itself.
He breathed, trying to slow his thinking for clarity. He wasn’t going to figure it all out tonight. But this was at least another piece of the puzzle. Maybe.
He closed the holoscreens and tapped the button to set them back to unread so they wouldn’t be deleted off the server before she could see them. That would be a red flag if there was anything in there that the rest of the team referenced later.
And this was a long game.
As quietly as he could, he padded back into the bedroom and replaced the holo. Just as he was walking around to his side of the bed, he felt her stir. Instinctively, he headed straight for the bathroom door and then closed it a little more loudly than he would have otherwise.
She muttered something.
“Sorry,” he whispered across the room to her. She rolled over, and he clambered back into bed next to her.
Committed – Snippet 1
Aboard The Scamp Princess, Kirox Quadrant
“Okay, space cowboy, you’re up!” Scamp announced cockily over the cockpit audio.
Sean opened one eye and then the other, his dream of naked ladies catering to his every whim while he fired guns on the test range evaporating away to reveal his harsh reality.
He eased himself into an upright position in his console chair and turned up the heat in the cold cockpit. “Thank you, Scamp,” he mumbled as gracefully as he could manage. He started poking at the holoscreen keys, checking and double-checking before setting a scan.
“Sean?”
“Yes, Scamp?”
“Why are we checking for short range transmissions?”
“Because we’re trying to pick up a short-wave, short-range transmission at these precise coordinates.”
“Oh.”
Silence fell over the cockpit for a few moments, before:
“Sean?”
“Yes, Scamp?”
“Why?”
Sean finished what he was doing and then sat back in his self-adjusting console chair. “Because this is what Karina and I agreed. We’d leave a short-range beacon right here at this location, with the location of our actual meeting point.”
“Why, though?”
“Because even if someone somehow knew about these coordinates, they would never know to look for a tiny beacon that wouldn’t show up more than a kilometer from here.”
Scamp paused for a moment, processing. “Oh. Right. That’s smart.”
“Yes. It is.”
Beep beep beep. A light on the pilot’s screen started flashing urgently.
“Looks like we’ve found your beacon, then,” Scamp commented.
“Looks like.” Sean watched, waiting for the signal to settle and then ran it through a descrambling program he’d uploaded from his holo before his power nap.
“Okay, Scamp, those are our next coordinates. Shoot out the beacon with the auxiliary lasers, and then let’s get going.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if anyone needs to track you—”
“This is the point. I don’t want anyone tracking me. It’s not safe. Blow it up, and then let’s get going. She’s in trouble.”
Obediently and without any further comment, Scamp locked on to the signal. “Armed and ready on your command, sir.”
“Fire!” Sean commanded.
Pew. A laser shot out from the undercarriage of The Scamp Princess.
Pop.
Sean shoved his bottom lip out and shifted sheepishly in his chair. “Well, that was an anticlimax.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard that a lot.”
“Ha, you’re hilarious, Scamp,” he retorted dryly to his EI.
Scamp sniggered at his own joke. “I guess it was just a tiny beacon, after all.”
Sean glanced at Scamp’s screen, raising one eyebrow, knowing full well Scamp couldn’t see him. “Indeed. Okay, Scamp, let’s go.”
One moment, the ship was there, hanging in the blackness. A second later, it had popped out of existence, leaving barely a ripple of a particle trail as it gated to its next destination.
Calzone Offices, Bronislovas Trading Outpost, Kirox Quadrant
Vito Calzone stood at the window of his office, watching the ships coming and going from the dock just across the way. The colored lights blipped and ambled before coming to a halt in the dock or disappearing in a flash as they tripped into FTL and tripped out of the system in the blink of an eye.
The door of his office swished open quietly. Calzone didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. “You know,” he mused philosophically, “they’re like fireflies.”
An anxious voice replied, “Sir?”
“These spaceships,” Vito drawled in an old accent from the region going several generations back. “They never existed like this when I was a kid. And now, they’re in and out of here like fireflies. One blip and they’re gone again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Calzone kept watching them, still not turning around to look at his visitor.
“Okay, Roberto. What’s so important?”
“Sir, it’s… well. We’ve noticed money coming into one of your guys’ accounts.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“No, sir. But it’s not from us.”
Calzone turned around and took a few steps to his desk chair. “And who do we think it was from?”
There was a slight pause before Roberto answered. “The sender is Ms. Karina Duffy.”
Calzone waved his hands. “That supposed to mean something to me?”
“Well, erm, if you remember, it was one of her favorite assassins.”
“So what? You’re saying someone is sending us a message?”
“Possibly, sir. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless she’s still alive.”
“She’s not alive,” Vito snapped. “And even if she were, she’s dead to me. Whose account is it?”
“Ronnie’s, sir.”
“Who?”
“Ronnie Matherson. He works on Bill’s side of the family.”
Calzone nodded wisely, as if he remembered. He took his time and sat down at his desk. “So,” he said slowly, “looks like someone is paying Ronnie money.”
Roberto nodded, then swallowed hard. “Unless that’s what they want us to think, of course,” he added. There was an awkward pause. “Sir, what would you like me to do?”
Calzone lowered his eyes in contemplation. “I’ll handle it,” he said quietly. “Keep an eye out for anything else, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send in Churchill.”
“Yes, sir.”
The lanky computer ops nerd headed back across the carpeted office and hit the close button for the door on the panel behind him as he left.
Moments later, the door whooshed gently open again.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Churchill was broad and stocky. He ran a team on the west side and reported in directly to the Don. Thirty years of service, and he never once took a day off. Nor did he have any trouble from within the ranks of the family.
Calzone regarded the loyal soldier carefully as he approached his desk. “We have reason to suspect Ronnie is going outside of the family.”
“You want me to take care of him?”
“No. I want you to follow him and find out what he’s up to and who he’s up to it with.”
“No problem, boss. I can have someone on it immediately.”
“No,” the Don said firmly. “Do it yourself. And this stays between us.”
Churchill lowered his head in deference. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
“That’s all,” Vito said, dismissing him.
Churchill backed up a few steps before turning and hurrying out again.
The Don leaned back in his leather covered anti-grav chair, steepling his fingers in front of him.
Base restrooms, Gaitune-67
Molly couldn’t stop her eyes from streaming. Her hands over her mouth, she tried to stifle the sobs. She leaned back against the wall of the restroom stall and put her hands to her head. It was throbbing.
It’s okay. We’re going to find him.
You can’t know that. What does the evidence say?
Molly sobbed again, thankful that she could have this conversation in her head and not have to speak the words. That would make it too real.
We don’t have enough data to conclude that he’s dead. And until we have the data pulled from Scamp, we won’t have a clue about what happened. Be patient. Don’t write him off so soon. Scamp only returned twenty minutes ago.
Molly didn’t respond. Her mind just couldn’t engage in conversation. She could barely see through her eyes, she had cried so hard.
I have to go. They’re waiting.
You’ve got a few more minutes. They’ll understand. They’re processing for themselves, too. They’ve never seen a ship return without a crew, either.
You mean they’re also crying.
No. But they’re worried and trying to wrap their heads around what might have happened.
They’re all in the conference room?
Yes. Mostly.
Okay. I’ve got to move.
Molly wiped her face with her hands and grabbed some tissue to dry them. She fumbled with the lock on the door and headed out to the basins. She hardly dared look at herself in the mirror. There was no way she would be able to fix the swollen eyes before walking in to face her team and give them their orders.
She opened the faucet and watched the water for a moment. Then she looked up.
Fuck.
It’s not that bad.
Not that bad? What do you know? You’re an AI.
I’ve been monitoring your body the whole time we’ve been connected. With cold water, you can reduce the swelling to acceptable levels. I’d suggest dabbing with a wet towel, though.
If she hadn’t been so distraught, she might have smiled at the notion of her AI giving her tactical beauty advice. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself again, pulling a blonde strand back from her face and hooking it behind her ear.
That’s going to have to do.
Well then, your subjects await.
Molly grabbed a paper towel and dried her face and hands before dropping the towel in the trash and heading out.
Turning left out of the corridor, she strode confidently up to the conference room and walked straight in. She did a quick assessment of who was present.
“Where’s Brock?” she asked.
Crash answered. “He’s already working on Scamp. He’s pulling every scrap of data to find out where he was and what happened.”
“Okay.” She closed the door and strode around to the head of the table. She didn’t sit though. “Here’s the plan. As soon as we have the coordinates, we’re going after Sean.”
She turned to Crash, who was sitting bolt upright awaiting instructions. “Crash, help Brock. Do whatever he needs to get us that data and get us airborne in The Empress.”
Molly turned to look at Joel and Jack on the left-hand side of the table. “You two are on supplies. Which includes weapons. Lots of them.”
Joel almost smiled. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, Molly suspected briefly that he would have punched the air
Boys and guns, she thought, mentally rolling her eyes.
“Pieter and Oz,” she continued swiftly. “Start working on the data as Brock pulls it. Paige, you’re running point for this investigation. Let the general know Scamp is back, and see if there is anything else the Federation can tell us based on the data Pieter gathers.”
Paige raised her hand and spoke fast. “What about telling Giles and Arlene?”
Molly paused only long enough to draw breath. “Oz will take care of that. Maya you’re on food supplies. But then I need you and Paige to work from here when we leave. Any questions?”
Pieter raised his hand awkwardly. “What about Bourne?”
Molly’s brow furrowed. “What’s he doing?”
“Still binge-watching the archives,” Pieter said judgmentally.
Molly thought for a moment. “Is he likely to do anything else until we get back?”
Oz’s voice connected over the intercom for the conference room. “Unlikely, if past behavior is an indicator of future.”
“Fine,” Molly concluded. “Let’s leave him be. Anything else?” Molly’s gaze flicked around the room.
Everyone was silent. They knew what they had to do.
“Okay. Wheels up in two hours. Dismissed.”
No one spoke as they pushed back on the anti-grav chairs and filed hurriedly out of the conference room. Molly stayed out of their way for a minute while they vacated.
What do you want to tell Giles and Arlene?
That Scamp came back, and we’re going after his last known location. But Giles isn’t coming. He needs to stay here and look after things at the University.
And when he argues?
Tell him I’m putting my foot down.
Okay. On it.
Thanks, Oz.
Molly followed her team out of the doors and into the base corridors. She also had work to do before they left, and two hours was almost no time to get her head in gear.