Op File Treason Read online

  ‘At work in the internal communications division,’ he replied. ‘Working on a deeper dive into her background.’

  ‘Advise me if you find anything unusual,’ she typed. ‘Going to ask around.’

  ***

  Diosa spent the day questioning men and women who knew Enyd Maraike. As a representative of an exclusive resort community on Planet Uno, the vetting was all about the couple’s character. The Maraike’s had already qualified financially, she explained. And the community would appreciate those interviewed to respect the couple’s privacy by not talking about the questioning. All the interviewees gushed about Enyd. The woman was smart, generous, and gave extensively to charities. Everyone complimented her unequivocally, except for the last person Diosa questioned.

  “I always felt she was looking for advantages,” Sid Hildur stated.

  Sid’s office occupied a slice of the executive deck with a view out into space. From time to time, the ions of passing ships flashed by or transports drifted in and out of view. Although only in his thirties, Sid was a rising star in Orbital’s management. To prove his superiority, his desk faced the doorway purposely ignoring the scenery provided by the rotation of the Station through a rare private window. The view was there to impress his visitors, thought Diosa.

  “Can you expound on that?” she inquired.

  “Enyd was always asking who was in charge of what,” Sid explained. “It was as if she wanted to know the most important people. I thought she was seeking the quickest way up the social ladder. Then, she married a technician. I couldn’t believe it. It was the last time I invited her to one of my gatherings.”

  A jilted boyfriend, assumed Diosa. Then she thought about the underlying reasons for Enyd to collect names and positions before throwing away the social standings. Based on the other interviews, the woman was still respected and active in some circles. Enyd had kept the contacts and probably used them to promote her husband to a sensitive position. On the surface it appeared to be an ambitious wife pushing an introverted husband to better himself. Except, few wives hired a criminal organization to remove an investigator who simply questioned her spouse.

  Outside of Sid’s office, Diosa typed Walden.

  ‘Any more background on Enyd?’ she inquired.

  ‘It’s a magic show,’ Walden typed back. ‘Now you see her. Now you don’t.’

  ‘Can I get that translated to plain Realm?’ she asked.

  ‘Her resume claims she worked on Protein Station. But I can’t verify anything other than she did depart from there,’ reported Walden. ‘Her early history has holes and there are four other people going by Kealan. Her maiden name. They have all passed through Protein Station. It’s a maze I’m trying to untangle as to which one went where.’

  ‘It’s time I spoke with Enyd,’ Diosa stated.

  ‘Try not to kill her before getting some answers,’ teased Walden.

  ‘Talk, not fight,’ Diosa sent back.

  ‘I’ve heard that before.’

  Chapter – 10 The Maraike’s Condo

  Surprisingly, given Emil’s occupation as a Shipping Coordinator and Enyd’s administrative position in internal communications, their condominium was located on a premium housing deck. Most occupants were department heads, managers or professionals just below the executive level. It seemed Enyd had used her contacts for more than getting Emil a new position.

  What’s that they say? It’s not what you know, it’s who you know, Warlock pondered as she stepped off the lift. Of course, having Pesetas wired to you on a regular schedule didn’t hurt when your housing costs exceeded both incomes.

  Warlock strolled around the curved corridor to the couple’s door. Located on the outer ring, she again wondered about the currency and political clout required to secure living quarters on this section of Orbital property.

  After ringing the doorbell, Warlock waited. According to Walden, both Emil and Enyd left work with clear social calendars and no plans to meet somewhere for dinner. They should be home. Three stabs at the buzzer and four minutes later, Warlock removed her goggle.

  It wasn’t as if she could see through the door. But soundwaves from inside, she hoped, could leak out. At first the air handling units obscured the lower sounds and Warlock concentrated on eliminating them.

  In her mind, she visualized waves crashing on a beach. Leaving those behind, she glided towards a tidal pool. Here, the ripples caressed the sand and bubbled over the pebbles. Except, the bubbling wasn’t in sync with the ripples. It was jagged and harsh. Realizing she’d isolated sounds from inside the condo, Warlock raised her boot and kicked the door. On her third try, the door bent and she was able to shoulder it open.

  A knife protruded from Emil Maraike’s chest. Between his ragged breaths and the bubbles gurgling up around the blade, Warlock recognized the sounds. Also, she realized that Emil was as good as dead. The pool around him spread too far and his failing heart could only pump a trickle from the wound.

  Beyond the dying man, space stretched into the distance and stars twinkled. It was a beautiful condo with an exterior window. Nice, but not worth dying for, she thought. Racing to a bedroom, Warlock searched for the body of Enyd Maraike. Unable to locate Emil’s wife, she raced through all the rooms. The searched ended when she rushed into the master bedroom.

  It wasn’t a body stopping her search, it was the open doors to the walk-in-closet. Resting ajar, she saw the shelves and hangers and discarded items tossed to the floor. Enyd had selected quickly, packed, and left in a hurry.

  ‘Find Enyd Maraike. She’s killed Emil and fled,’ Warlock typed to Walden as she sat on the edge of the unmade bed. Then she glanced at the sheets and spots of goo glowed in the florescent beam. Ugh, Enyd had mated and killed her spouse like a black widow spider.

  Jerking her head away from the gross sight, Warlock caught a sound wave from the body washing station. She’d missed it while rushing around. Now, sitting quietly, the faint waves, below human hearing, floated to her in ripples.

  Getting up, she walked to the door of the room and paused. No water ran or even dripped from the faucets. Nothing seemed to be creating the noise. Squatting down, Warlock twisted her face scanning the room letting her eye detect the strongest waves. It seemed loudest at a section of wall beside the cabinet.

  The decorative tile rang hollow when she rapped her knuckles against the surface. Pulling out the baton, Warlock smashed the wall and it crumbled. Clearing away more of the tiles, she located the source. Then, she ran.

  ***

  ‘Walden. Bomb in the condo,’ Warlock typed as she jogged into the corridor.

  ‘Warning Station security,’ he replied.

  A man and woman, dressed up for an evening out, stepped out of their condo.

  “Bomb. Clear this floor,” Warlock shouted.

  “Excuse me. I don’t…” Warlock stabbed him with the baton and asked, “Is there anyone still inside?”

  The woman shook her head no.

  “Then move it. Go, go, go,” ordered Warlock as she ran to another door and banged on it and shouted. “Evacuate the deck. Evacuate the deck.”

  “Old man Jacob lives next door,” the woman said as she assisted her husband down the hallway. “He’s deaf.”

  Warlock wanted to run with the couple and for good reason. An explosive device on the outer glass bulkhead would cause rapid decompression. Emil Maraike’s body along with a pie shaped section of the housing units would be jettisoned into space. No one would search for Enyd as they’d assume she was sucked out with the debris.

  Two kicks and she dashed into Jacob’s condo. An old man sat watching a movie on a large screen. He was concentrating so hard on the subtilties, he failed to see the woman burst into his condo. It came as a shock when she snatched him from the chair and slung him over her shoulder.

  With no time to waste, Warlock shifted him to a firemen’s carry as she ran out. Each door she passed received a hammer blow and a shouted warning. But, she didn’t stop
. They reached an airlock and she gently sat Jacob on the deck. Turning around, she’d just put her hands on the hatch when the corridor in front of her came apart.

  The ceiling peeled off the overhead, the flooring covering the deck lifted and pieces of the walls flew at the hatch. Bracing with her legs, Warlock drove her shoulder into the metal and pushed against the hurricane powered pieces. When the hatch was half closed, the explosion reversed. From blowing through the hatch, the current sucked air from the corridor when the void of outer space began claiming the building material and the atmosphere. As if a power assist was attached, the hatch slammed close. Warlock spun down the locking mechanism.

  Turning, she saw a look of horror on Jacob’s face. “Are you injured,” she mouthed hoping the old man could read lips. Whether he could or couldn’t didn’t matter because he passed out.

  ‘Are you alive?’ sent Walden.

  ‘Made it through the airlock,’ she replied.

  ‘Get out of there. Security is looking for a baton toting terrorist who was assaulting people in the hallway,’ Walden warned. ‘I assume it was you.’

  ‘I have an injured old man,’ she typed back. ‘Once I turn him over to medical, I need Enyd’s location.’

  ‘Working on it,’ Walden assured her.

  She stretched Jacob out and checked him for injuries. Noting his heart rate was uneven, Warlock began chest compressions. She maintained the steady pace until relieved by a first responder. Then, she slipped through the crowd of first responder and left the deck.

  ***

  Warlock caught a lift to the mezzanine level and went into a shop to buy a water. Her throat was scratchy from yelling and, the pressure changes she endured at the hatch.

  ‘Enyd has covered her tracks. All the funds, a considerable amount from her account, have been transferred out,’ Walden sent. ‘If she’s about, she’s not hanging out.’

  ‘Poet. We are good,’ Warlock typed recognizing the pattern. ‘I’m safe and you are safe.’

  ‘Not accustomed to all the violence,’ he replied.

  ‘This isn’t violence. Strap on Striker armor and hit a corridor filled with Constabulary Troops,’ Warlock informed him. ‘Than you’ll know violence.’

  ‘That’s your job, not mine,’ he sent.

  ‘Exactly. Now, how much did she withdraw?’ Warlock inquired.

  ‘Two million Pesetas. Most of it was transferred in yesterday,’ Walden informed her. ‘It’s a much larger payment than any of the others.’

  ‘I assumed she was in league with pirates,’ Warlock typed as she selected a drink container from a cooler. ‘But all the currency confuses me.’

  ‘I Concur. Some working capital for a pirate spy is normal. I have never read about Empress fanatics requiring it for sabotage or spying,’ Walden added.

  Before Warlock could reply, four Station security officers crowded through the doorway and surrounded her.

  “Name?” a young Corporal of security demanded.

  “Diosa Alberich, GCMC Retired,” Warlock replied. “What seems to be the problem officer?”

  “I’ll ask the questions when the time is right,” he informed her as he reached out and took the unopened container. “Right now, you are coming with me.”

  Diosa swiped her palm across her PID, locking and putting it into a deep sleep.

  ***

  “What were you doing on the premium housing deck before the explosion?” asked the Corporal.

  The room held two hard chairs on one side of a metal table. Diosa sat in a chair on the opposite side, handcuffed to the tabletop. Across from her, the security NCO occupied one of the two chairs. His voice echoed around the empty room and off the unadorned bulkheads.

  ‘Nice place you’ve got here,” Warlock replied looking around the interrogation room. “Although it could use a decorator’s touch. Can I have a glass of water?”

  “I asked you a question, Master Sergeant,” he replied. “What were you doing on the deck before the explosion?”

  “Shouldn’t you be helping with the recovery efforts?” she inquired.

  “Let me help you remember, Alberich,” he sneered. “You were assaulting people with a baton. I have two eye witnesses. So, why were you on the premium housing deck?”

  “Are you talking about the stubborn guy? I was providing him with motivation,” she explained. “Then I pulled Mr. Jacob from his condo and we ran to the hatch before the explosion.”

  “Ah, you admit to knowing about the explosive device before the explosion,” the NCO announced. “Why did you plant it and blow out a section of Orbital Station? Who are you working with?”

  Something occurred to Warlock. A detective or an officer should be questioning her. Now she had a dilemma. Answer the Corporal and reveal what she knew or wait for a higher-ranking interrogator to question her? This was compounded by the fact the Corporal probably didn’t have the authority to release her even if she answered. And while she wasted time here, Enyd Maraike was getting away.

  “Your PID is locked,” he stated lifting her device from his lap. “What’s the passcode?”

  Why did he want access? Warlock placed her head on the handcuffs and used it to brush the goggle off her right eye.

  “Sorry, I had an itch. What were you saying?” she inquired. Her sensors took readings and soon she had baseline vitals for the Corporal.

  “I asked for your passcode,” he repeated waving the device in the air.

  “Who paid you to sneak explosives onto the Station?” Diosa asked chancing a wild guess.

  Ammonia and carbon dioxide accompanied the increase in the blood flow through his carotid artery. She hit a nerve and the Corporal’s reaction was far beyond any sense of indignity.

  “What’s your name?” she inquired.

  “Corporal Yvet. But I’m asking the questions here,” he informed her as his signs settled.

  “Corporal Yvet, you are in deep trouble,” Warlock stated. “Maybe you assumed it was contraband and simply looked the other way. Or maybe, you are a full-fledged terrorist.”

  Along with the spike in respiration and sweat, the security NCO exploded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure, you do. You knew something illegal was going on and because of it, people died,” ventured Warlock. “A level of Orbital is trashed and you scooped me up hoping to find a scapegoat.”

  He spiked again and Warlock knew she was onto something. Before she could get more information, the door opened. A woman in a civilian suit marched to the center of the room. On her hip was a gold shield and on her face was a sour expression.

  “Why are you doing an interview?” demanded the detective. “And in an interrogation room with the recorder turned off?”

  “I just thought I’d soften her up for you,” lied the Corporal.

  “Unlock Master Sergeant Alberich and get out to your unit,” the detective ordered. “Orbital is a mess and people are panicking. Command wants a show of force on every level while the Station is searched for more devices. Go!”

  Corporal Yvet set Warlock’s PID on the table and bent down to insert the key. His body blocked the investigator’s view.

  “We’ll talk later,” Warlock whispered.

  He fumbled the key and needed a second try to unlock the cuffs. Once finished, he scurried out of the room.

  “I was going to speak with the Maraike’s about a home in a private enclave on Planet Uno,” Warlock volunteered before being asked. “When I arrived, the door was open and Emil had a knife in his chest but I couldn’t find his wife. I found the bomb in the body washing station. I ran to warn the neighbors. Right place, wrong time.”

  “Okay. Let’s go over a few of the details,” the detective said then asked. “Would you like a coffee or water?”

  ***

  ‘Enyd?’ Warlock typed after leaving the security level.

  ‘No sign of her. Either hiding on Orbital or shipped out on a shuttle,’ Walden informed her.

  �
��New person of interest. Dirty security NCO. Corporal Yvet,’ Warlock sent. ‘Check his financials. I’m going to dinner.’

  ‘On it,’ Walden replied.

  It could have been the emergency on the Station but Warlock noticed her shadows were gone. Klaas Luger must have gotten her message and pulled the surveillance. A short ride up and she located the noodle house. There was nothing special about the tiny restaurant other than the aromas from the kitchen made her mouth water. After finding a seat, she ordered

  In the middle of her meal, a message from Walden appeared on her PID.

  ‘Corporal Yvet is clean. However, based on our experience with the Maraike’s, I checked his girlfriend’s account,’ Walden sent. ‘For the past six months she has been receiving payments from a financial firm we know.’

  ‘I don’t know any financial firms,’ Warlock informed him.

  ‘Oops. A firm I saw in the list of Enyd’s beneficiaries,’ Walden informed her. ‘Katrijn Financial.’

  Warlock froze before asking, ‘Any connection to Katrijn Industries?’

  ‘It’s their funding and investment branch,’ Walden answered. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Send a package with all the information to Special Agent Eiko,’ she instructed. ‘I have a history with them and if I have my way, a future date.’

  ‘Sounds ominous,’ observed Walden.

  ‘It will be. Keep looking for Enyd,’ Warlock ordered. ‘I’m going to speak with Corporal Yvet.’

  ‘I’ll alert the cleaners,’ Poet replied.

  Chapter – 11 Untangling Strings from a Knot

  Warlock strolled by the closely placed doors until she located the correct one. Unlike the premium housing deck, here the apartments were small, the occupants packed in tightly, and the air flow at a minimum. She knocked hard three times.

  “Yes?” asked a girl with tangled blond hair.

  “I’m here to speak with Corporal Yvet,” Warlock responded.

  “He’s not accepting company,” the slender girl announced as if she was an actress on a video show.

  She started to shut the door, but Warlock shoved an arm forward. The door opened under the pressure, sliding the girl back and out of the Striker’s way. Warlock walked into a long room. Two doors off to one side and a small kitchen on the other were the only breaks in the walls. This level of living quarters didn’t offer windows to the stars. Sitting in a chair with his head between his knees, Corporal Yvet appeared to be rocking.