Rath's Rebellion (The Janus Group Book 5) Read online

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  Paisen brushed her keycard against the motel room door, pushing it open with a foot. Inside, she set the bag of groceries on the bed – Vence had a medical kit laid out on the room’s only table, with a bedside lamp set up to provide some light as she worked to clean Rika’s shoulder wound.

  “Where’s Wick?” Paisen asked them.

  “Out setting up the early warning sensors,” Rika said, watching as Vence used a set of tweezers to extract another piece of shrapnel. They heard the door unlock, and Wick walked in.

  “Never mind, here he is,” Rika said.

  “Have a seat,” Paisen told him. She rifled through the bag of groceries, and handed pre-made sandwiches and bottles of water to each of them. “Eat,” she said. “And tell me what happened.”

  Wick took his sandwich and sat at the edge of one of the beds. “Rika and I were with Tepper,” he said. “We were overwatching one of the staging areas when a bunch of the ground units started gearing up. It was still pretty early in the morning – they woke everyone up, had them gather up by the trucks. We watched them do weapon test fires – all the usual pre-mission checks. Then they loaded up and started patrolling through the woods toward us.”

  “We thought it was just a training drill,” Rika said. “We abandoned the hide site, and started to hoof it back to the nearest rally point. Pretty soon, the other teams started reporting the same activity. Tepper had the rest of the teams collapse in on our location. It took a couple hours for us to regroup. And then Tepper mapped out all of the different pieces the Jokuans had in motion.”

  “That’s when we started to get worried,” Wick said.

  “Yeah, that’s when we started to realize they were onto us,” Rika agreed. “And they weren’t just searching haphazardly. They fucking knew where to look.”

  “You’re sure?” Paisen asked.

  “Yeah. Tepper sketched it all out on a map – each of their patrols headed straight for our observation posts, and all of them were sweeping us inwards to a central point.”

  “How did they know?” Vence asked. “All our comms were encrypted, they can’t have been intercepting us. We’re the only ones that knew how we were deployed.”

  “No,” Paisen said. “The Senate Intel Committee knew, too.” She held up a hand, forestalling any other questions. “We don’t know for sure what happened. But we’re going to find out.”

  “Have you reported anything to them yet?” Vence asked.

  “Not yet,” Paisen replied. “And I’m not going to, not until we know more. Rika: keep going. What happened next?”

  “We regrouped, and figured out they were trying to encircle us. We probed their lines in a couple different places, looking for a way out, but by then they had us surrounded.”

  “So how’d you get out?” Paisen asked.

  “Tepper,” Rika said. “He impersonated General Yo-Tsai and stole one of their trucks. Got an entire platoon to chase him, and we ran out through the gap. We split up once we were out, to make it harder for them to track us. They figured out what happened pretty quick – they had armed drones up over the area a few minutes later, and a bunch more troops on our tail for a good hour. Luckily they can’t run or track for shit.”

  “What happened to the others?” Paisen asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rika admitted. “After the breakout, they started jamming all comms, and bombing anything that moved.” She pointed at her arm, where Vence was nearly finished applying a liquid stitching agent. “They came pretty close to getting us a couple times. But they called the drone off – I think they wanted to take us alive. Wick and I laid a false trail and doubled back along a creek. We managed to shake the platoon off our tail, and clear out of the search area. We ran into Tepper a little while after that.”

  Paisen stayed silent, waiting for the woman to finish her story. Rika sighed. “He had a truck and a sizable lead on the guys chasing him. He probably could have gotten away. I think he did get away, but he came back to distract the Jokuans again. To give us all more of a chance.”

  “He did,” Wick agreed.

  Rika looked at him for a moment, and then down at the floor. “Anyway, he happened to drive right by us. They shot his truck up, and must have hit him, too. The truck was trashed, so he got out to turn himself in … and they executed him.”

  Vence shook her head in disgust.

  Wick smiled, sadly. “We were right there when they captured him, and I was watching, and thinking, ‘Come on, it’s Tepper! He’ll talk his way out of this one, wait and see.’ ” He turned serious again, and wiped away a tear. “Those fucking assholes.”

  “We’re going to get them, right?” Rika asked Paisen. “For what they did?”

  Paisen set her jaw. “I want to know what happened to the rest of the team before we do anything else. Did you have any other contact with them?”

  “No,” Rika said. “We heard some gunfire and bombing runs in the distance a bunch of times. That could have just been them going after Tepper, I don’t know.”

  “You think the others are still out in the training areas, hiding?” Vence asked Paisen.

  The older woman shook her head. “No. I think the Jokuans would still be out there in force if they only caught Tepper. They’d still be looking for them, but they’re not – and they stopped jamming communications, too.”

  “But no one except us responded to your signals,” Wick said. “You think they’re dead, too?”

  “Until we know otherwise, I’m going to assume they’re alive, and in Jokuan custody,” Paisen told him. “And we’re going to find them.”

  “How do we do that?” Wick asked. “They could be anywhere on this godforsaken rock.”

  Vence cinched a bandage tight around Rika’s arm, and then cleared her throat. “I know someone who can tell us where they are.”

  10

  “Turn right,” Atalia told Beauceron, studying the map of Jokuan on the rental car’s navigation system.

  Beauceron waited for three children kicking a tattered soccer ball to clear out of the street, and then turned down a narrow road, grimacing. “This could be a one way street, but I can’t tell, because I haven’t seen a single road sign since we left the rental center.”

  Atalia snorted. “Welcome to the Territories. We did see that big billboard with President What’s-his-face’s picture on it.”

  “Mori,” Beauceron said. “According to the brief I read, he’s not much more than a figurehead. The military runs this planet. General Yo-Tsai, specifically.”

  “So tell the military to fix their damn road signs,” Atalia told him. She checked the datascroll on her lap, skimming through the files they had recovered from the raid on Bellislas. “The apartment house Paisen rented is coming up on the right.”

  “I don’t see any building numbers,” Beauceron noted, swerving to avoid a large pothole in the road.

  Atalia checked her files and then looked up. “That one,” she said, pointing.

  “The one with the ‘Police’ tape over the front door?” Beauceron asked.

  “Yeah …” Atalia said, frowning. “That one.”

  Beauceron pulled over and parked, and they sat in silence for a second, studying the building.

  “That door looks like it was broken down,” Beauceron noted.

  “Yeah, I’m guessing we’re not the first law enforcement team to come here,” Atalia said. She glanced up and down the street. “On the other hand, the door’s clearly still open.” She grinned at him. “So we won’t need to break in.”

  She opened her door and stepped out, and Beauceron followed, reluctantly. They ducked under the tape and pushed the remains of the door inward. Atalia headed into what looked like a living room, while Beauceron moved down the entrance hall, finding a small kitchen and bathroom. The kitchen was ransacked – cabinet doors flung open, dishes and food containers spilled across the floor. The freezer door was ajar: Beauceron glanced inside, spying a bag of ice on the top shelf, slowly
dripping.

  At the far end of the kitchen, he found a door that opened into the living room, where the furniture had been knocked over and ripped apart. Atalia was searching through the drawers of a desk, but she soon straightened up, empty-handed.

  “Someone tossed this place good,” she remarked. “Looking for something specific?”

  Beauceron shrugged. “Perhaps. Or just pissed off because they missed her.”

  “You don’t think they got her? There was a stun grenade in the front hall. I think this was a raid by the local cops.”

  “Did you see any other signs of a fight?” Beauceron asked, walking slowly around the outside of the room.

  “No,” Atalia said. “No stun darts or bullet holes, no shell casings.”

  “Then I don’t think they got her,” Beauceron said. “Not without a fight. We’re only a few hours late – freezer was left open, but the ice hasn’t melted yet.”

  “Fuck. If we’d caught that earlier flight …”

  “Mm. Maybe we would have beat them to it.”

  Atalia brushed her hands off on her pants. “Well, let’s not just hang out in someone else’s crime scene. After you.”

  Beauceron headed for the door, stopping to look outside briefly to ensure the street was still deserted. Back in the car, both officers buckled in, and Beauceron started up, turning around and exiting the narrow street.

  “Hotel?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Atalia agreed. “Let’s get settled and regroup. We should have Colonel Jesk check the MirrorLine database, just to be sure no one with Guild-style implants got picked up on Jokuan recently.”

  “Good idea,” Beauceron agreed. “With the safe house a dead end, I’m not sure what else to do.”

  Atalia pulled out her datascroll again, accessing Paisen’s files. “If the Jokuans got her, we’re in trouble. I doubt Jesk will sign off on us trying to snatch her out of prison.”

  “No,” Beauceron agreed.

  “Assuming she’s still at large, though … let’s see what else was in her files.”

  Beauceron braked slowly, easing the car to a stop at the back of a large traffic jam.

  “She didn’t have any other building rentals noted in the files,” Atalia said, flicking through screens with her finger. “So that’s the only safe house she was using, apparently. I mean, the bulk of the files are maps of rural Jokuan areas. They’re labeled ‘Training Area,’ and Paisen added groups of numbers to them. She’s got a ‘1’ over the safe house, and then a ‘7’ over this city, and ‘2, 4, 6’ all over in this training area.”

  “What’s the highest number?” Beauceron asked.

  “Twelve,” Atalia said.

  “Could be a list of something,” Beauceron guessed, craning his neck to see past the cars ahead of them.

  “Could be,” Atalia agreed. “Most of the numbers are out in these training areas. Those must be no-go zones the military has set up, to keep civilians out of the way from their training.”

  “Probably,” Beauceron said. The car ahead of them moved several feet, and then stopped. “It would help us immensely if we could figure out what she was doing here.”

  “Maybe she has a beef with the Jokuans – came here for payback,” Atalia suggested. “Did she ever talk about Jokuan with you?”

  Beauceron shook his head. “No … but Rath did. Rath was here, on Jokuan, for a Guild mission years ago. I remember him discussing it with Senator Lizelle when we were on the airship.”

  Atalia scratched at her forehead. “Okay, that’s another odd coincidence. Rath was here. Paisen comes here years later, while Rath is in jail. Then Paisen busts Rath out of jail. Maybe Paisen came to ask for the Jokuans’ help in busting him out?”

  “Maybe,” Beauceron said. “But why bring a dozen ex-contractors to Jokuan first? What could the Jokuans have that she needed?”

  “Wait a second – a dozen,” Atalia said, snapping her fingers. She turned her datascroll toward Beauceron, showing him the numbered map. “Twelve numbers on the map, for twelve contractors. These are the locations of her team,” she said.

  “Quite possibly,” Beauceron agreed. “But again, what are they doing here?”

  “I have no fucking clue, Martin,” Atalia said, sighing in exasperation. “Just let me have this win, okay?”

  He laughed. “I think you’re right. But it’s only one piece of the puzzle.”

  The cars began to move ahead of them, and Beauceron pointed at the datascroll. “Okay, then – which one’s closest?”

  “You want to go straight there? Skip the hotel?” Atalia asked.

  “I think we better,” Beauceron said. “If the safe house is any indication, we’re not the only ones on their trail. The faster we move, the better.”

  11

  Dasi checked the time in her heads-up display. She could not remember the last time she had worn a long-hemmed dress, but Turpin had insisted that she buy one for her first visit to the NeoPuritan Church. Coupled with the fact that she was not carrying her service pistol for the first time since graduating from the Academy, she felt unusually vulnerable as she stood waiting for her date outside the church’s lone entrance. She glanced up above the stone archway, but saw only the towering, craggy rock face of the cave’s wall: the church itself was hidden within Excavar’s bedrock, a cavern set into the outer wall of this section of the colony.

  “Radio check,” Hawken said, and Dasi heard it in her audio implants.

  I’ve got you, she sent back via message.

  “You doing okay?” he asked.

  Fine, she lied.

  We’re ready to bail you out the minute you give us the signal, Hawken reminded her. I’ve got a squad of local cops standing by. And I’ll be watching everything through your feeds.

  I know, she replied. I’ll be fine.

  Turpin arrived a moment later, and took her by the elbow. “Come on, we’re late,” he said impatiently.

  You’re late, Dasi corrected him, but she allowed herself to be guided toward the stone arch. As she passed through, she noted that the arch contained a thick, metal portcullis, which had been drawn up into the ceiling. Its sharpened spikes jutted down into the archway like the teeth of some yawning predator. Inside the entrance, they passed through a security scanner, which beeped and flashed red at Dasi. An armed security guard appeared immediately.

  “What did you do?” Turpin hissed.

  “Nothing,” Dasi protested.

  “Your implants,” the guard said. “Turn them off.”

  “I can’t,” Dasi insisted. “I’d be deaf and blind.”

  The guard frowned, but relented. “You’re not permitted to record anything,” he told her. “We’ll be checking you for unauthorized audio or visual recordings on the way out.”

  “Okay,” Dasi agreed. “No recordings.”

  The guard waved them through.

  >>>Would you like me to stop recording, Dasi? Six asked.

  No, keep rolling.

  “Why didn’t you say you had implants?” Turpin asked her.

  “I didn’t know they would be a problem,” Dasi said. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

  “I don’t care. But the Church does.” He shook his head with anger, stopping in front of a large, curtained doorway. “Okay, this is where I leave you.” He indicated a small group of people clustered to one side of the door.

  “You’re leaving me?” Dasi asked.

  “Everyone goes through Orientation their first time. They’ll bring you up to me when you’re done.”

  “Okay,” Dasi agreed uneasily. It’s not like you’re any safer with him – stop being silly.

  Dasi joined the group of new recruits and watched as Turpin pushed through the curtain.

  “Name?” a woman asked her.

  “Danielle,” Dasi told her.

  The woman checked her datascroll, and tapped on the screen once. “Thank you. The Church likes its members to be punctual, Danielle.”

  “Sorry – I was wait
ing for my date to get here.”

  The woman arched an eyebrow at Dasi. “Blaming your man for your own inadequacies is hardly the right way to start your visit here. But no matter – we all must start somewhere, before we find our place.”

  Dasi was so surprised at the woman’s comment that she couldn’t even form a reply.

  “Ladies: follow me, please.” The woman turned on her heel, and motioned for the female recruits to follow her. Dasi fell into line, wondering where the male recruits were.

  >>>It seems they separate the genders for Orientation, Six observed. Since Turpin delayed us, the men probably already started.

  Probably, Dasi agreed. Jace, are you still there?

  The guide led Dasi and the other women down a winding corridor hewn from the rock.

  Jace: radio check, over? Dasi repeated.

  >>>I believe the building is actively jamming communications signals, Six reported. I can access a local wireless network, but nothing external. And your internal computer is no longer receiving cellular signals.

  Well, shit, Dasi observed. I’m glad you’re still with me, Six.

  She followed the other recruits into a side room, with several rows of chairs set up facing a viewscreen. At each chair was a small card. Dasi took a seat, and examined the card. It had a picture of Simi Quorn, the Church’s founder and prophet, along with a quote from him. On the back was a web address.

  “You can find much more information about our Church at the web address on those cards,” the recruiter told them. “Please take them home and familiarize yourself with those materials at your own leisure.”

  Dasi put the card in her purse.

  “I know you’re all probably eager to get back to your sponsors,” the woman continued. “So we’re just going watch a short introduction video, and then we’ll get you upstairs.” She smiled at them, and the lights dimmed as the viewscreen turned on.

  The video was nearly twenty minutes long, and mostly featured testimony from newly-converted Church members, extolling the benefits of joining, and talking about how radically their life had improved once they did so. Dasi glanced around the room – several of the other women seemed to be watching closely, with an eagerness bordering on desperation.