The Red Admiral Read online

  "And to get rid of the deadwood," Commander Shelden said with a grin. "Or so I heard."

  "That has been unfortunate, since I don’t care if someone doesn't like me and thinks my promotions weren't deserved, so long as their focus is on doing their job and not on getting promoted or wallowing in the prestige of their positions."

  "Everyone is interested in getting promoted," Shelden said, looking to Martz.

  "There is a difference between hoping to be promoted and your total focus being on how to get promoted," I said. "How would you like your crew on watch viewing vids?" I asked.

  Martz laughed. "I see your point. Without your total focus, you would never have found the missing persons profile or that it's prevalent across the UAS," Martz said, giving me an appraising look, then laughing. "I'll bet you don’t care about promotions."

  "Hate them!" I muttered, and Martz roared with genuine laughter.

  * * *

  "Banner, send the following message to Vice Admiral Lulltrel using Crazy Numbers," I said, thinking I should keep her up to date although I had very little to report.

  I believe Magic Act should be designated an active project under P1A authority. I have visited ten systems to date and found each system had three to seven missing women who fit the profile developed on Eastar. A total of sixty over the past five years. Although conjecture—I have no proof—the profile, along with the consistency across the UAS, would indicate an organized enterprise, probably of a criminal nature, as the women disappear without a trace.

  Commanders Devore and Steward have submitted their retirement papers. They are voluntary retirements and in the best interest of the individuals and NIA.

  * * *

  When the shuttle landed at the Safe Harbor port of entry, Commander Atkins was waiting. He gave me a salute while barely restraining a grin.

  "Welcome to Safe Harbor, Admiral Paulus. You've gone viral on the rumor mill, ma'am." Atkins grinned. "Speculation runs the spectrum on why you are visiting the systems. Some are really wild."

  "What do you think, Commander?" I asked out of curiosity.

  "Because you're interested," he said, his grin widening. I couldn't help a laugh. A page from the past when he worked under me at Eastar.

  "What do you really think?" I asked.

  "You're chasing something, ma'am. And…" he paused, considering me for a moment. "Testing your station commanders. The rumor mill says two have already failed." His grin appeared again. "My group is dying to meet you…after I assured them only criminals need fear you."

  "How do you like managing a NIA station?"

  "Love it! It's exciting. After my year with you, I'm always looking under rocks, pulling on threads to see where they lead, and poking my nose everywhere. My folks are starting to do the same." He laughed as if remembering some past incident.

  "Can you help my aide, Lieutenant Banner, set up a meeting with the police commissioner? I'll fill you in on the details later, but you're right. I am chasing something, and you and the other NIA station chiefs need to be part of the chase."

  * * *

  "That was fun. I doubt my folks thought they would each have to go over their projects with you. Probably thought the meeting was to listen to you talk." He gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, your meeting with Commissioner Cabrera is tomorrow at thirteen hundred hours," Atkins said, then escorted me and my party to the Imperial Hotel where he had accommodations arranged for us—Pannell had brought half his detail. After freshening up and changing into civilian clothes, Atkin returned and took us to the Seashore, an upscale restaurant serving mostly exotic fish dinners. The décor was aquatic—several large fish tanks with a variety of strange but beautiful fish and marine life lined the walls, a collection of ancient Egyptian, Viking, Spanish, and English ocean-going ships were scattered around the room on wooden pedestals, and LED monitors showing vids of sharks, whales, octopuses, coral reefs, and other organisms that inhabit the oceans and seas of the worlds. The tables and chairs were sturdy wood similar to old-world construction. After checking with me, Atkins invited his second-in-command, Lieutenant Commander Phelps. She was tall, thin, and had a narrow, intense-looking face and straight brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had recently been promoted and was full of enthusiasm. Our round table held six: Atkins, Phelps, Pannell, Banner, Stamm, and me.

  We had just been served our after-dinner drinks when I saw Captain Dixon lurching in our direction. I discreetly opened the shoulder purse I was carrying, giving me access to the laser inside. Pannell also recognized Dixon and pushed his chair backward, making it easier to rise. Two marines who had waited in the reception room were now inside the dining room—apparently alerted by Pannell.

  "Well if it isn't the snake bitch whose career is built on destroying good officers...and her guard dog. Woof, woof." Dixon's speech was slightly slurred. He smiled when Pannell stood with his hand on his Mfw. Dixon smiled back as he raised his hand to reveal a grenade—the safety pin twirling on the finger of his other hand. "Go ahead and shoot. I have nothing left to lose. The little bitch has destroyed my life."

  People could be seen hurrying to exit the room—except two tables, each with four men. They sat unmoving and staring in our direction. And although the tables were located at opposite ends of the room, they were still potentially in the blast area of the grenade. I doubted they were staying to help, but then it dawned on me. Unless I was mistaken, Dixon had interrupted a carefully planned assassination attempt.

  "I'll make you a deal, bitch; give me that snake and I'll leave—and your friends will live." He laughed. "Or your lapdog can shoot you and I'll leave."

  Killing Dixon wasn't an option, as it would cause him to loosen his grip on the grenade's lever he was holding. Without the safety pin, it would explode before anyone could get to safety.

  "Tell you what, Captain Dixon—" I started to say but his shout interrupted me.

  "Because of you, I'm no longer a captain. They demoted me to commander and I'll never make captain again. The navy was my life and you ruined it," he screamed, raising his hand with the grenade.

  "They should have given you a medical discharge. You're obviously insane," I shouted to get his attention.

  "For doing what half the navy would like to do?" he shouted back.

  "No, for murdering innocent people. I should have said criminally insane." I glared at him while trying to decide what—if any—options I had.

  "You're never alone," he nodded toward Pannell.

  "I have a simple solution," I said. "Let's you and I go outside and you can blow us up without hurting anyone else."

  "NO!" Pannell shouted.

  "Colonel, you would be far more useful staying here and keeping the folks in here from leaving and maybe getting killed." I nodded in the direction of the tables with the men who had remained in the room. Unless I was mistaken, they also wanted to kill me, although not with Dixon present.

  He nodded after looking around but didn't look happy. "You're trying to trick me. Won't work."

  "I'm trying to save your parents, family, and friends from having to live with your legacy—the mass murderer who blew himself up in a restaurant, killing twenty innocent customers. They will shun them and their kids will suffer—"

  "They will know it was because you ruined my life," he shouted.

  I laughed. "You think that will make a difference? I waved my arm to include the entire room. Beside the six at our table, there were the two tables with the men, and several still hiding behind tables and counters. "Take me outside and blow us up. At least then you will just be guilty of revenge and not some crazy mass murderer."

  He was silent for a long time. "All right." He grabbed my right arm with his right hand and began walking as he pulled me along. When we exited the building, a large crowd was milling around the area, eagerly awaiting the outcome. He raised his hand holding the grenade and the crowd scattered, running and screaming as they sought distance and cover. Within seconds, the area was clear for at least
forty meters and expanding as we watched. His maniacal laughter sent shivers through me.

  "This," he said as his hand with the grenade rose to my face, "is for all the good men and women you destroyed to get ahead—" His face contorted in pain and he let go of me as he staggered back several steps. Red's jaw was clamped onto the hand holding the grenade. Dixon smiled. "This may be better. With the snake dead, you'll die, but it will take days of agony."

  He was right. I was helpless to do anything. I couldn't free Red without setting off the grenade. I sighed, content. I had never expected to live a normal life span, as Red wouldn't, and my life had been good. I had a job I enjoyed and a loving mother. My heart ached for Alexa and the pain this would cause her, but at least no one else had to die. Lost in my thoughts, I watched helplessly as Dixon dropped to his knees. His face twisted in pain as his hand and arm swelled and changed color from red to purple. He finally collapsed completely, lying perfectly still. I braced for the inevitable. Nothing—no explosion, no brilliant flash of light, no shrapnel tearing through cloth and flesh–nothing but an eerie silence. A fake grenade meant to scare me or a dud, I wondered as I approached Dixon. When I knelt to retrieve Red, I saw his extended jaw still clamped around Dixon's hand and the grenade, which had kept the lever from releasing. Fishing through Dixon's pockets, I located the pin for the grenade and inserted it. Then I removed Red's expanded jaws from around Dixon's hand and the grenade. I put the grenade in my purse and pressed Red to my lips. "Whatever you are, I love you," I whispered. Red's hissing jerked me back to the present and the realization that my friends were still in the restaurant along with eight potential assassins. Then I laughed and began walking towards our vehicles, where two of my security guards was standing with open mouths.

  "Corporal, could one of you drive me to the shuttle port? I'd like to spend the night on the Taranis, and after we've driven off, the other can let Colonel Pannell know," I said, getting into the back of the first vehicle.

  "Yes, ma'am," the older of the two said, giving me a snappy salute and then waving the other man to the car. The young corporal was grinning as he jumped into the driver's seat, and a minute later we were on the road to the spaceport.

  * * *

  "How?" Pannell asked when Banner, Stamm, and he arrived an hour later. I sat in my small dining room eating a crème brûlée for the dessert I had missed, thanks to Dixon's interruption.

  "When Dixon stuck the grenade in my face for me to see, Red attacked his hand. His unhinged jaw not only clamped onto Dixon's hand but also locked the grenade's activation lever closed." I took another bite as everyone stood envisioning the scenario. I pointed to the grenade, which I had placed on the sideboard. "The poison killed Dixon before he could pull Red off him and the grenade. I decided to return to the Taranis, since without me present, the assassins at the two tables would have no reason to shoot at you."

  "Assassins?" Banner asked as his eyes involuntarily darted around the room.

  "I think you're right. Those men at the two tables looked armed and were watching your table before Dixon showed up. That means that the people responsible for those missing women are aware you're involved, and they aren't stupid," Pannell said, a worried look creasing his forehead. "From now on, nobody goes out without a weapon." He stared at each person present until they nodded.

  * * *

  We arrived at the police headquarters nine strong—Pannell, a six-man security detail, Atkins, and me—I had left Banner and Stamm on the Taranis over their objections. Only Pannell, Atkins, and I entered the chief's office.

  "After Colonel Pannell called me this morning, I had my detectives review the surveillance tapes from the restaurant. You were right. Half of the men at those two tables you identified are persons of interest in multiple murder investigations. From what the colonel said, you were very lucky," Cabrera said as we got settled in his office.

  "It worked out well," I said. "There were a lot of diners at the restaurant. A gunfight would have involved innocent bystanders."

  The chief nodded. "Based on your popularity, I assume whatever you wanted to discuss has upset organized crime." He leaned forward, and I went on to explain what I had found. Cabrera was very interested in how I had discovered the kidnapping operation, and we worked into the early hours of the morning reviewing his missing persons cases. In the end, we concluded Safe Harbor had eight women that met the profile: one woman missing so far this year, two last year, one the year before that, three four years before, and one the year before that. He agreed to be on the lookout for the women I'd identified to date and to keep Atkins informed. When I arrived back on the Taranis, I had a message from Lulltrel.

  To: Rear Admiral Paulus

  Director NIA Stations

  Magic Act is officially a UAS P1A project. Be careful.

  From: Vice Admiral Lulltrel

  Director NIA

  We left the next day for Truth Star.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Star System: Undisclosed - Excuses

  "Rumor has it the little admiral puppy is alive and well. Not a scratch on her young body," Tashia said in a mockingly sweet voice as she met each person's eyes and finally settled on Jamar. "Of course, that couldn't be right, could it, Jamar?"

  "They didn't get an opportunity—"

  "Were they waiting for an invitation to join her for dinner? Maybe they didn't want to interrupt her dinner. Or they are incompetent idiots!" The last four words dripped with scorn.

  "An unexpected incident—" Jamar began again.

  "They expected her to cooperate in her assassination? Plans never go wrong? She's not only left Safe Harbor, but she now knows we know she's investigating those missing women and will be on alert."

  "I'll take care of her," Jamar said, low and menacing. His voice sounded much like a viper hissing.

  "Oh, I thought that's what you were doing. My mistake," Tashia said, ignoring Jamar's rising anger. "Are you hoping her cruiser crashes or has a bad jump?"

  "I'm leaving tonight. I will personally see to her death."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Star System: Truth Star

  "I'm growing old before my time guarding you. You're an admiral. You're supposed to have a large office, have everyone come to see you, and be bored," Pannell said as the cruiser docked at the Truth Star spaceport. "But you are chasing criminals all over the UAS where they can pick the time and place to attack you. You were…lucky that Dixon showed up when he did. Those eight men had the advantage. We weren't expecting them; not all of your party had weapons, and they had the numbers to overwhelm your security."

  "You are absolutely right on all accounts." I smiled and shrugged. "And I wouldn't want your responsibility for anything. You have a woman who is too young to be an admiral, so she doesn't know how she is supposed to act, so bored she ignores the threat posed by the evil people she's chasing, and too new to trust people she doesn't know to find them. You probably have a good case that I'm unstable and should be retired."

  Pannell gave me a snort and couldn't repress a grin. "I don't know why I bother. I couldn't win when you were a commander and now you're an admiral. For your mother's sake, let's take reasonable precautions."

  "I think you're ready for promotion. That's clever logic," I conceded. "I will listen to your suggestions and do my best to comply. My mother deserves that and much, much more," I said and meant it. Alexa had saved me from a living nightmare, given me a loving home, and was responsible for my wonderful life. I could never repay her in a hundred lifetimes. So, I would try to be careful for her sake since I knew how much she would suffer if I was killed.

  "Sorry, but I'm desperate. I'd like to see you catch the kidnappers as much as you would, but you can't do that if you're dead," Pannell said, and I could feel his sincerity. Let your aide and me set up the meeting with the NIA commander and his staff and with the chief of police. That way we can minimize your time on planet and exposure."

  I nodded. "I'll be a good girl," I said meekly.
I would try for Alexa's sake.

  * * *

  "Welcome, Admiral Paulus," said a tall man in his late thirties as I cleared lobby security. He looked perfect for a recruitment poster, trim, clean-shaven, dark brown hair cut just above the ears, and a nice smile on his angular face. "I'm Commander Sydell, station chief. I would have met you at the spaceport, but Colonel Pannell requested I didn't."

  "Colonel Pannell is concerned about my security, as we had an incident at Safe Harbor."

  "I've arranged for a staff meeting in an hour to include all the NIA personnel per your aide's request," he said, looking attentive, but I thought and felt his silent appraisal. "I could show you around the unit or…"

  "I'd prefer time with you, Commander, before the staff meeting," I said. He nodded and waved for me to follow him. Pannell and Banner followed along.

  "I've heard that two of the NIA station chiefs were forced to retire," he said as Banner fetched me my coffee drink from Sydell's sideboard.

  "Actually, that's not precisely true. They had a choice and chose to retire." I pursed my lips in thought. "What would you think of a commander who decided to demonstrate how little regard he had for his boss and how ineffectual she was by attempting to demean her in front of his staff?"

  Sydell snorted. "Stupid."

  "It's frustrating because I can understand any commander wondering what the brass was thinking to put a young woman who had less time in service than several of the commanders have in grade, less experience managing a NIA station than many of the current station chiefs, and then promote her to admiral. In fact, I wonder the same thing. But as usual, I wasn't consulted. Someone just walks into my office and tells me after it's done." I paused to take a sip of my coffee. "And because I understand and agree with those commanders' concerns, it would never show up in their reviews. What I don't understand is why they want to take it out on me. But while I understand their reservations, they have to know I cannot let certain overt conduct pass without impacting discipline, morale, and NIA's mission—to make sure we catch the bad guys and gals."