So what would trigger Elena and Opal to go incommunicado and at exactly the same time? What might link their actions?
Well, that was easy—sort of. Caine.
Trevor sat up straight. After hearing about Case Timber Pony, they don’t want to be able to get instructions or orders that they can’t, or shouldn’t, refuse to follow. Opal, being Caine’s guardian angel as well as girlfriend, and still unaware of Elena’s connection with him, had probably decided to find Caine on her own. Which is better than waiting for that harebrained rescue mission Uncle Richard is cooking up, the one that would probably get everyone killed.
But Elena, too? She was no commando, to put it lightly. And if she had decided to try to help Caine herself, why wouldn’t she at least tell me?
The answer was so obvious it felt like a slap. Because she knows I would have stopped her just as surely as Uncle Richard would have. And commando or no, she spent a lot of time on pretty risky field assignments. Damn it, I’d bet dollars against donuts that she’s en route to Jakarta, because that’s where Caine will be, if the invaders decide to bring him planetside. And so, if I call Richard—
Trevor took his finger off his commplex’s datapad, closed the contacts directory. If I give him the chance, Richard will order me to stay close until he can send me on Case Timber Pony. Or, if the invaders decide not to play diplomatic games, and IRIS gets lower on manpower, he’d hold me and my security team in reserve, as his last little trump card. Well, so sorry, Uncle Richard, but that’s not how it’s going to go down. I’ve got a prior commitment to help a young lady. Whether he meant Elena or Opal was unclear, even to him.
He opened the commplex directory again, found the number he needed, called.
“How may I help you?” The Central Intelligence Agency never announced itself as such when called, not even on the secure, high-clearance traffic line that Trevor was using.
“This is Captain Trevor Corcoran, USSF, calling for Duncan Solsohn at extension 2454. My access code is U-uniform, S-sierra, D-delta one zero niner.”
A pause. A new voice. “Sign is black gull. Four. W-whiskey.”
“Countersign is low tide. Three. E-echo.”
“Connecting.” Then another new voice. “Hello?”
“Duncan, this is Trevor. I’m glad you’re still on the overnight.”
“Well, I’m glad one of us is glad about it. What’s new, Trevor?”
“I need a favor.”
“What’s new about that?”
“Ha. And ha. Listen, I need a complete traffic trace: all messages sent and received, transactions, booking, transport records.”
“Yeah, ‘complete’ means complete, last I checked. But ‘no’ means ‘no.’ You don’t have anything like the kind of clearance necessary to initiate a request like that.”
“You might want to review my clearance and security ratings.”
“Yeah? Well, last I saw, you were just a—Jesus Christ, Trevor, have you started playing golf with God? How the hell did you get—?”
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you. Just get on the job, okay? And I need it fast.”
“How fast?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“Ugh. And who’s the target?”
“My sister. Here’s the data you’re going to need—”
Chapter Twenty-One
Caine swayed in his seat as the CoDevCo shuttle braked sharply. Ground controllers had waved it away from the vertipads atop the twinned towers of the Indonesian Bank Complex and down into the courtyard-turned-landing field.
“We shall debark quickly,” Eimi said nervously to the cabin in general. “No reason to attract attention.”
You mean, “attract snipers,” I think, Caine reflected as the vehicle jolted into a quick VTOL landing. He undid his straps. Rather than off-load through the passenger portal at the front, the silent Arat Kur troopers indicated the opening aft bay doors.
Following Urzueth Ragh, Caine stalked down the ramp into the thick, humid brightness of Jakarta and momentarily flashed back to debarking into similar weather conditions on Delta Pavonis Three. Only a year and a half ago. It feels like a different life.
Outward-facing gray-suited soldiers flanked the loading ramp as he exited. They were clones: all the same height, all the same face. It was a face he had seen before, staring impassively over Ruap’s shoulder before the Parthenon Dialogs in Greece, and again, with a corporate factor at Nolan Corcoran’s memorial on Mars. These identical faces in Jakarta were every bit as unemotional and alert as those had been. If any of the soldiers noticed his quick scrutiny, they either had orders not to react, or simply didn’t care.
With the two Hkh’Rkh hulking at the rear of the debarkation line, the shuttle’s passengers made quick progress to a nearby berm-lined enclosure of ballistic brick. As they wound through an anti-blast dogleg in the walls, the shuttle did a quick dust-off from the pad and headed southward. Its jets were shrill as it passed over them, growled and howled where their downwash buffeted against the berm.
“Now what?” asked Caine when he could hear again.
“We wait,” Urzueth said simply. “We will be met by vehicles for transport to the heart of the compound.”
Caine looked out the rear of the three-faced enclosure. There was, at most, an eighty-meter stretch of ground to be crossed. “President Ruap’s government doesn’t seem terribly confident in its ability to maintain order.”
Eimi shrugged. “These are simply precautions, Mr. Riordan. You have nothing to fear.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Mr. Ruap and his allies, on the other hand, seem more than a little nervous.”
Urzueth Ragh might have sounded slightly testy. “Ambassador Riordan, please. These leading comments are becoming tiresome. Most—well, much—of the regular army has remained loyal to the new government. And with the assistance of thousands of armed personnel from CoDevCo’s Optigene Security Division, President Ruap’s ability to protect the country from both foreign and domestic threats is superior than it was before the change in leadership.”
Caine glanced at the hastily built plasticrete walls that encircled the compound, the heavy weapons mounted high in reinforced sections of the main buildings. He did see regular army uniforms, but not many. And some kinds of uniforms were conspicuously absent. “And the Indonesian special forces? Have they shown the same loyalty?”
Urzueth remained perfectly still for a moment, then moved to look at Eimi. Who answered the question. “The Kopassus regiments have expressed—divided loyalties. We are taking steps to remedy that trend.”
Caine tried not to smile. Those last two words tell me the story you are trying to conceal, Ms. Singh. It’s not that the Kopassus regiments simply split. They defected en masse. And that means that regular army defections are probably still ongoing. It’s likely that you’re bleeding your best soldiers into the ranks of the resistance. The career soldiers would be too smart to make their true sentiments known in advance, not when they’re surrounded by political inductees who’ve been instructed to correct any sign of disloyalty with an immediate application of lethal force.