Indomitable (30 page)

“I'd like to say uneventful, Gunny, but I have the feeling you already know better.” Promise searched Khaine's eyes for any clues about why she was standing on Level 47, in RCIA territory. All she got was a cocked eyebrow and a headshake. No.

“What?” Promise smiled coyly, cocking her head in question.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“I seem to recall you asking me that once before.”

“Me too,” Khaine said somberly. “That was a doozy of a nightmare.” It had happened when Promise was a private, back when she worked for Khaine. Khaine hesitated. “How time changes things. Speaking of changes, this meeting is going to be a bit unusual because—”

The same door the gunny had stepped through only a moment before blew open and careered into the wall with a resounding clang, and the last person Promise expected to see stepped into the corridor. The indigo hair had been replaced with bright blond. She wore a severe A-line jacket and matching slacks, and café-noir stiletto heels. Her hawkish gaze target-locked Promise like a heat-seeking missile.

“I don't understand,” Promise said as she looked from the woman to the gunny. “Ms. Night?”

“Not anymore, no thanks to you.” Night stopped at the bleeding edge of propriety. “I was deep undercover for two years, trying to take down their sex ring, before you blew my operation. I would say it's nice to see you again but I try not to lie unless the job requires it.” She didn't offer Promise her hand.

“Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Rayn McMaster. She's with the
agency.
” She would have to have been deaf to miss Khaine's warning. She thought she detected a hint of disgust in his voice too.

“You're a spook?” Promise balled her fist and nearly decked the woman then and there. “You can't be serious.”

Khaine cleared his throat. “I'm afraid she is.

“Special Agent,” Khaine said, “you're early. I was supposed to have time to talk with Lieutenant Paen.”

“Plans changed.” McMaster turned to Promise and planted her hands on her hips. “It's
Special Agent
to you, Lieutenant. I'm curious about Sephora. Tell me, how's the little bitch doing?”

“Agent McMaster! With all due respect, ma'am, you're out of line,” Khaine said.

McMaster's lips curled slightly before she dipped her head toward the gunny. “Sorry, I'm glad she's out of that hellhole.”

A hard edge formed around Promise's eyes and drained all the warmth from her words. Her weight rocked to the balls of her feet, fist still ready to break McMaster's jaw. “How could you watch an innocent girl being trafficked like that? Oh, that's right. You were just
following
orders.”

“Believe me, there was nothing innocent about that place.”

Promise's hand shot out. “Lieutenant,” the gunny warned, stepping between Promise and McMaster. “You haven't been properly introduced. Agent McMaster is—”

“On dangerous ground. At the moment, Gunny, I don't care who she is.” Promise wrenched her arm free and dropped her arms to her sides. But she didn't back off.

“Perhaps I was out of line.” McMaster's sneer didn't leave her face. “You wandered into matters that didn't concern you.
You
nearly got me killed. You blew an undercover operation with ramifications someone of your rank can't possibly fathom. It took me
two
years to gain their trust and you threw it away in a single night. As it is, I've been pulled from the field because our informant changed his mind. You almost killed him.”

“Wade? He was your informant? The man got a lot less than he deserved.”

The gunny had his arm around Promise now, and was using his body to block her from McMaster. “She's not worth it, Lieutenant.”

“Wade isn't the only one who got off easy,” McMaster said. “I should have left you in that cell to rot.”

“Lieutenant! Agent McMaster, this stops now.” The force of Khaine's voice caught both women by surprise. “That's better. Expect an official complaint from my office, Special Agent.” Then, addressing Promise, “As for you, lock it down,
now,
ma'am. For the record, McMaster is on our side—she's one of us, a reservist in the Sector Guard. She's a lieutenant
commander.
” Khaine's eyes were was almost pleading with Promise now. “You may be outside her chain of command but she's a superior officer and you'd be wise to remember that.”

Promise appraised McMaster with new eyes. She'd almost broken the Second Directive—assaulting a superior officer. One punch and she would have faced a mandatory court-martial and been drummed out of the Corps. One fist relaxed, and then the other as she sagged into the gunny's frame. “Thank you, Gunny,” Promise said softly before pushing away. “This isn't over.” To McMaster, “Ma'am, I was hardly what you would call respectful. Please accept my apologies.” Her words were far from sincere but at least she'd said them. “We obviously have our … differences. I'm personally invested in the girl's future.”

McMaster dipped her head and smiled. “I'll bear that in mind, Lieutenant.”

“Ma'am, please accept my apologies. My feelings for the girl may have clouded my judgment.”

“That's the first honest thing you've said, Lieutenant. You screwed up, and now it's going to cost you.”

Promise had the sinking feeling she'd just given McMaster what she'd wanted. Maybe not all of it. But certainly more than enough.

 

Thirty-six

MAY 20
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0751 HOURS

REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD

THE SQUARE, LEVEL 47, REPUBLICAN CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

Promise entered a utilitarian
room with a holotank on one side and a whiteboard on the other. The oblong conference table was as black and smooth as obsidian, with the RCIA's seal inlaid at the center. At the table's head sat Commandant Habakkuk Raghavan, the senior officer of the RAW-MC.

Not good.
Promise stiffened when she saw him and the glittery over his chest, which must have weighed a good kilo. Next to him sat a slight gentleman with Asian features wearing a white shirt rolled to the sleeves and jet peppery hair pulled up in a bun. He was middle-aged with an almond-shaped face and as casual in his dress as the commandant was official in his. The jacket discarded over the back of his chair belied the nature of the building they were in and the seriousness of the meeting. On the opposite side of Raghavan sat Lieutenant Colonel Price Halvorsen. McMaster rounded the table and sat beside the only other person in the room wearing plain clothes.

That explains who he is.

Halvorsen held up a hand, palm up, indicating that she would stand for the meeting. The gunny came around her and found his chair, and she got the impression that he sat as close to her as he dared. She came to attention and saluted, eyes a regulation three centimeters off the commandant's right ear, and waited for the other boot to drop.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” Raghavan came forward and placed both hands on the table, palms down. “I'll be quick with the introductions. To my left is Assistant Director Cameron Suh of the Republican Central Intelligence Agency.” Raghavan didn't sound at all pleased. “I believe you know who everyone else is.” Raghavan stared at Promise until she nodded.

“Very well, then.” He paused for a long moment. “Please tell me, Lieutenant, why are you here?”

Promise's eyes flicked to Agent McMaster and then to Raghavan. “I seem to have stepped in it, sir.”

Raghavan didn't quite smile; his brows rose slightly. “Explain?”

“Out in the corridor … a moment ago, Agent McMaster told me I blew her operation and nearly got her killed. Compromised an asset too, all for a little—well, I won't repeat what she called the girl. All for a young woman who was being trafficked. I'm sorry for blowing the op, truly. But, sir, with respect, I had no knowledge of the operation. I was fighting for my life … and for the girl's. Her name is Sephora. Frankly, sir, had I known about the agent's operation, I'm not sure it would have mattered.”

“Really? Why wouldn't—”

“Commandant, you already have my full report,” Agent McMaster said, interrupting the commandant. “Lieutenant Paen was clearly off the reservation and operating without orders. Her actions can only be construed as a dereliction of duty and—”

Raghavan held up his hand and gave Assistant Director Suh a stern look.

“Agent McMaster, now is not the time,” said Suh. “Remember your place. You've said more than enough already.”

“But, sirs, I must insist—”

“Enough.” Suh hadn't even pitched his voice upward and the look in his eyes could have frozen a company of shock Marines in their mechboots. “Agent McMaster, impatience will not get you where you want to be.” He cocked his head toward Promise. “Lieutenant, you were saying…”

Raghavan and Suh looked like men who had already made up their minds about her. In her peripheral vision she saw the colonel gently shake his head and McMaster fuming in her seat on the other side of the table. The gunny couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in his. Promise realized she had everything to lose.

“It wouldn't have mattered, sirs, because the girl asked me for help. Not in so many words,” Promise added quickly when McMaster opened her mouth to speak. “She didn't have to say the words. She said them with her eyes, with the fear on her face. I saw her ‘no' from across the room. I watched her being sold for the night. I watched her procurer—the man who eventually tried to kill me—grab her arm and force her to go through with it anyway. Her silence might as well have been a scream for help. She didn't have a choice. I could not,
could not
stand by and do nothing.” Promise was nearly shaking now. “Apparently, the special agent could.”

McMaster bolted to her feet. “I will not be spoken to that way!” Her fists came down hard on the polished tabletop.

“Agent McMaster—sit.” Suh's face went taut. “Lieutenant, you know nothing of Agent McMaster, or of her past. Your words assume too much and you do her a great disservice. Please think more carefully before you speak again.”

“Then, sir, may I ask your agent why she said what she did about the girl—” Promise nodded toward the door. “—out in the hall, before we walked in.”

Suh's eyes hardened. “Let
me
do that.”

“I've heard enough.” Raghavan exchanged looks with the assistant director. “Cameron?”

Suh nodded in agreement. “I'm done here.”

Raghavan pushed away from the table and stood. “The assistant director and I already discussed this mess before the meeting started, and we agreed then that the lieutenant didn't act maliciously, nor did she break any laws.”

Raghavan spoke more for the benefit of the official recording than for her, and while it irked Promise to be talked about as if she weren't in the room, she also realized that the commandant was going “on the record” in her defense. She took a deep breath and nodded.
Thank you, sir.

“Everything Lieutenant Paen said here today only reinforces my original opinion of this matter. Contrary to Special Agent McMaster's official charge, Lieutenant Paen did not go off the reservation because she wasn't under orders … except to get some R and R. She didn't follow that order very well,” Raghavan said icily, “but that's not justification for disciplinary action. I can't fault the lieutenant for rescuing the girl either, even if her methods leave something to be desired. And, as much as I hate to admit it, there's a time and place for preemptive action.” It really did sound like Raghavan hated to admit that, and Promise wondered whose ears that statement was being recorded for. “Cameron, if you ever quote me on that I will deny having said it to my grave.”

Suh chuckled under his breath. “Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. If I was a hawk it might be a different situation.”

“Thank God for that.” The commandant turned to face the junior agent in the room. “Agent McMaster, I'm not unsympathetic to your position in this matter. Your life was endangered and a critical operation was compromised. You have every right to be angry. However, Lieutenant Paen was off-duty, out of uniform, and operating on her own time, and her actions are protected by our Good Samaritan laws. I can't very well bust her down for coming to the aid of a fellow human being in need, nor will the RAW-MC tolerate anyone attempting to do so. Have I made myself clear?”

That was bold,
Promise thought. Raghavan wasn't just speaking as one of the Joint Chiefs. He was speaking as a Marine with skin in the game, drawing a line in the sand that the RCIA dare not cross. He might as well have said, “Paen is one of ours. Come after her at your own peril.”

McMaster went to speak but Suh cleared his throat, and after a long moment she reluctantly nodded.

“As for you, Lieutenant, you have a history of rushing head-on into pulser fire, and it has largely served you well. Until now. Sometimes running toward the fight is the best option, sometimes it's the only option. Teaching Marines to run toward the close fight isn't easy and you're to be commended for your bravery.”

Promise heard the “but” coming and prepared herself for the official reprimand. Her career was going to survive this. She wanted to smile. She wanted to jump for joy and rub Agent McMaster's face in it. Oh how she wanted to do that. Holding it back almost killed her.

“But—”

There it was. Promise held her breath, didn't dare break eye contact with the commandant.

“—a proclivity for direct engagement must be counterbalanced with clearheaded thinking and restraint, too. I've come to believe the way we'd thrust command upon you—so early in your career and without the opportunity to look, listen, and watch—robbed you of a critical window of learning, which might have taught you the difference.”