Tsar Wars: Agents of ISIS, Book 1 (5 page)

Judah was getting excited. After listening to
all his father’s stories, after reading all the Ilya Uzi books over
and over, was there a chance he’d be offered a secret mission of
his own? His heart started racing. He looked over at Eva, but she
was keeping her face as neutral as Lady Hasina’s.

The dvoryanka pulled a small device out of
her pocket. “I’ll have to discuss this with my father,” she
said.

Judah’s eyes went wide. “Is that a Q-line?
I’ve heard about them, but never seen one. I guess knyazya can
afford things like that.”

“Particularly knyazya who used to be
Commissar of the Imperial Special Information Service,” Eva said
dryly. “Why didn’t your father come himself? We’d have given him
the best seats.”

“His movements are always watched,” Hasina
explained. “Even though I’m known as his personal assistant, I have
a lot more freedom.” She turned to Avram. “Is there someplace
secure around here?”

“You can use my office,” the older man said.
“Nobody bugs a road manager’s office on the random chance a spy
might wander in and say something secret. I’d say the entire
backstage was pretty secure, but there might just be an
entertainment reporter hanging about, looking for a story.”

He rose and gestured for Eva to do the same.
“The
kinder
and I will leave you alone until you need us.”
He shooed Judah and Eva out before him, then closed the door to
leave the dvoryanka her privacy.

Judah looked around to make sure no one else
was within earshot. “What’s the story? Do they need people for a
secret mission?”

“
Nu
, if they did, would you be
interested?”

“You bet!” Judah said enthusiastically.

“Even if it meant leaving the Ville?”

Judah hesitated just a fraction of a second.
“If the security of the Empire’s at stake,” he said, “that might be
more important than the show. If you and Mama could do it—”

The older man turned to his niece. He knew
his son’s interest in the subject—how he’d always hung on every
word of Avram’s and Mikkel’s stories about protecting the Empire,
how he devoured spy novels and quoted them at length. But Eva was a
question mark. While Judah’d lost his mother on that one terrible
mission, she’d lost
both
her parents and had been
inconsolable for months. Then, without warning, she’d broken out of
the depression and become the exuberant extrovert she was today. He
wondered how much of her wild, almost reckless, behavior was in
reaction to that traumatic event.

“And you, Eveleh?” he asked her. “How would
you feel about it?”

“Has the knyaz been put back in charge of
ISIS?” she asked, avoiding a direct answer.

“She didn’t say, but I don’t think so.”

“Then how can he hand out top-secret
assignments?”

“Nkosi’s a patriot,” Avram said gently. “He
doesn’t need an official title to care deeply about the Empire’s
security. He’s an intelligence
maven
, a man with
considerable resources and even more friends—of which I am one. If
he sees a problem, he’ll try to fix it whether he’s Commissar of
ISIS or not.”

“And people will just risk their lives for
him?”

“Not for him. For the Empire.”

Eva looked about to say more when the office
door opened and Hasina poked her head out. “My father would like to
talk to you a minute,” she told the senior Bar Nahum.

Avram laid his left hand gently on Eva’s
shoulder and returned to the office with the dvoryanka, closing the
door behind them.

The Quantum-line, or Q-line, speaker was set
up on his desktop. A Q-line was the most secure communicator
available because it used a digital one-time cipher pad. Hasina’s
device spoke only to one her father had, and they were the only two
devices with this particular randomly-generated cipher pad. Even if
someone intercepted the message it could never be decrypted by
anyone who didn’t have a copy of the pad. As with most such
encryption devices, this Q-line was voice-only. While picture and
tridee transmission were possible, they were prohibitively
expensive in this circumstance.

“Hello, Nkosi,” Avram Bar Nahum said.

“Hello, old friend,” came the knyaz’s deep,
rich voice. “It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Avram said, “considering
you never call unless the Empire’s in terrible trouble. I think the
Empire could use less trouble, so I could use fewer calls.”

“I can’t fault your logic. Hasina tells me
you won’t accept the job I have for you.”

“Not ‘won’t.’ ‘Can’t.’ Mikkel and I aren’t
the men for the job any more—not if the safety of the Velikaya
Knyaghinya is riding on it, as your daughter says.”

“I’m not Commissar any more. I have to use
the resources at my disposal.”

“That’s exactly why I’m suggesting my son and
Noy’s and Marnina’s daughter. They’re smart, fast and talented—at
least as good as their parents.”

“They’re also totally inexperienced,” the
knyaz pointed out.

“
Nu
? So how experienced were my
brothers and I when we started? They learn quickly, these children
today. They’re about the same age as your daughter, I might
add.”

There was an audible sigh from the man at the
other end of the line, who knew he couldn’t argue with any of that.
“Tell me about them,” he said at last.

“Don’t think I’m suggesting them out of
nepotism. They’re the biggest stars of the show. I’d much rather
keep them here. Only my great love for the Empire would let me part
with them.

“Judah’s the more enthusiastic one. He loves
anything to do with spying. He listens to my old stories over and
over. He’s memorized all those silly Ilya Uzi novels—”

“If he goes by them, he’ll be in big
trouble.”

Avram smiled. “He knows the difference
between them and reality. I made sure of that. He’s absorbed all
the craft Mikkel and I could feed into him, and he’s always eager
for more. Physically he’s in perfect condition, and mentally he’s
up to the challenge. He’s got the background. As I said, he’ll
learn quickly in the field.”

“And the girl?”

“She’s no girl, and you’d better stop
thinking of her that way. She grew up very quickly—probably too
quickly. Losing both her parents like that did things to her, made
her a little wild.”

“I don’t need ‘wild.’ I need
‘disciplined.’“

“She’ll definitely give you
tsouris
there. She does things her own way, which isn’t always the way you
or I would do them. But when she chooses to do something, it gets
done right. Everything comes naturally to her. She’s the most
brilliantly intuitive person I’ve ever seen. I’ve never known her
instincts to be wrong. I’d trust my life—more importantly, I’d
trust the Velikaya Knyaghinya’s life—in her hands. Much as it pains
me to say it, between her and my son I’d rank her the one with the
better potential—
if
you can convince her to take the job at
all.”

“If?”

“I’ve never asked her how she feels about it.
She’s always listened politely to my stories and my instruction—but
with her parents’ death … plus I didn’t know for sure the subject
would ever come up.”

“I see.” There was a pause of about five
seconds—for Nkosi Wettig, a very long pause indeed. “Well, I’ve
never gone wrong before trusting your judgment. Da, bring them in.
I’d like to have a talk with them.”

* * *

As Avram went into the office to talk with
Lady Hasina, Eva turned to her cousin. “I suppose this has you all
excited,” she said.

“Of course. This is what I’ve waited my whole
life for. Next to our act, this is the most important thing I could
ever do. Don’t you feel it too?”

“You still have a parent,” Eva said slowly.
Her expression was more serious than Judah could ever remember. “I
only have uncles.”

Judah’s face fell. “Oh Eva, I’m sorry. I
wasn’t thinking—”

Just as quickly as the somber mood had come
upon her, it vanished again. “Besides, it would put a hell of a
kibosh
on my sex life.”

Relieved to be off the hook for his faux pas,
Judah bantered back, “Spies have a great sex life. Ilya Uzi has at
least three different women each book.”

“You know me better than that. If I do
something I do it all the way. It has to become the most important
thing in my universe.”

“You’re saying sex is the most important
thing in your universe?”

“Right now, the act is the most important
thing in my universe. Everything else revolves around that. I never
miss a rehearsal, I never miss a performance. Come hell or high
water, that’s the rock my life is built on.

“Fortunately, even with all that work I still
have time for a hobby. And when I’m at my hobby,
that
becomes the thing that consumes me. When have you ever known me to
do anything by halves,
boychik
?”

Judah smiled, and there was the faint hint of
a blush. “You do tend to throw yourself into things.”

“Right. And I’ve listened to Uncle Avram’s
and Uncle Mikkel’s stories. Being a spy is an all-day, all-night
job. You’re always onstage. No breaks, no time for hobbies. I
couldn’t do anything less.”

Judah tried to return to his earlier point.
“But sometimes a seduction can be part of the assignment.”

“It’s not the same thing at all. Sex as a
hobby is something I can enjoy. I can let myself go. But if I’m
shtupping
some guy to save the Empire, I can’t relax, I
can’t let it be fun. I’ll always have to remember why I’m there,
who I’m pretending to be. There’ll always be a clock ticking in my
head. I know myself well enough to know that.”

She shook her head. “No, as long as I was
working on an assignment it would become the only thing in my life.
And that’s a commitment I’m not sure I’m r—”

The office door opened and Avram Bar Nahum
stuck his head out. “He’d like a few words with the two of you,” he
said.

Judah looked over at his cousin, who simply
shrugged her shoulders and walked into the office. He followed her,
curbing his enthusiasm outwardly for her sake, even though his
heart was racing with excitement.

“They’re both here, Nkosi,” Avram said as he
closed the door behind them.

“Avram tells me you can both be trusted,” the
knyaz began without prelude, “and I trust him implicitly. Let me
explain the situation I face and what I would like to see
happen.

“There is an undercurrent of treason running
rampant through the Empire. Local separatist movements are
springing up on one world after another. I’m sure you’ve heard the
news reports of all the anti-imperial riots lately.”

“It’s hard not to,” Eva said. “There’s one
almost every day, somewhere.”

There was a few seconds of silence from the
other end of the line. When the knyaz continued, his voice was a
little frostier; apparently he wasn’t used to interruptions. “As I
was saying, there is grave unrest. That much is public knowledge.
There are other things that are not so public.

“There’s been a rash of ‘accidents’ among the
dvoryane. None of them are the same, there’s no apparent connection
between them—unless you look at the bigger pattern. All the victims
are in the line of succession. With only one direct heir, that line
is fragile as it is—but with these deaths, the options become
fainter and fainter.

“Then there’s the fact that a large number of
dvoryane are building up their own security forces, barely skirting
the law that makes the Imperial Navy the only entity charged with
interstellar security. Private fleets are becoming the rule rather
than the exception. I see all this as a prelude to civil war.

“The center of all the trouble seems to be
Knyaz Yevgheniy Kuznyetz of Scorpio sector. His is the largest of
the private fleets, nearly a third the size of the Imperial Navy
itself. In addition, he has nurtured alliances with many other
dvoryane that would give their group a fighting force that more
than rivals the Navy. It would be mild to say I’m concerned.

“I also have separate evidence that Kuznyetz
is supporting many of these separatist groups with arms and money,
probably even using agents provocateurs to spread discontent. I
believe he is waiting only for the proper moment to spark an
incident that will lead to upheaval and start him on the road to
consolidating his power.

“There are other factions that have also
noticed Kuznyetz’s build-up, and they’re arming themselves as well.
There will be a lot of blood spilled in a lot of quarters when the
fighting starts—but Kuznyetz is the one I’m most worried
about.”

The knyaz paused, so Judah felt it was safe
to interject a question. “Have you told whatsisname, the current
commissar, about this?”

“Edward Foundry, and no I have not,” Wettig
replied. “I know him too well. He was one of my deputies when I was
in charge. He’s a loyal man, a well-meaning man, I won’t fault him
on that. But he has less imagination than a brick. He’s a slave to
protocol. He runs everything by regulations, with no variation
allowed. This idea is too big to be encompassed by his rule
book.

“Besides, during his seven years in office I
have little doubt the Service has been severely compromised. He’s
weeded out too many intelligent, insightful people because they
don’t work by the book. That left him vulnerable to infiltration. I
have no hard evidence, but I will not underestimate Kuznyetz by
assuming he hasn’t taken advantage of that.”

At a new pause, Judah felt bold enough to
speak again. “What do you need us to do?”

“I have two missions in mind,” Wettig said.
“The first is basic infiltration and information gathering. I need
someone inside Kuznyetz’s paramilitary organization keeping me
posted on what’s happening. I did have someone until a few days
ago, but …” He paused significantly. “He had known ties that could
be traced back to me. We hid them as best we could, but Kuznyetz
has his own intelligence service. Our man was killed, but at least
he got out some important information first. I need someone who’s
never had any traceable connection to me to go in there and tell me
what that traitor is doing.”