He stood before the three Chiefs, each of whom wore the same red and silver jacket he took pride in for sixteen years.
“Barukh. Ilya. Ramesh. Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you and Shireena.”
“No worries,” Barukh said. “Every badge on Amity knows you have our backs. There’s no better man for the job.”
“That means more than you know, but I’d say time will be the judge. I’ve been at it two months, and I’m already covering up crimes.”
“We’re willing accomplices,” Ilya replied. “And it’s for the greater good. If people knew the extent of the corruption, it’d be one more hit against the station.”
“That’s what we’re going to tell ourselves.” Trevor smiled. “At any rate, we’ll see each other at the confab in a couple of days. In the meantime, if you need anything, I’m here for you. Always. Oh, and Barukh: Congratulations on re-upping for another two years. I can’t imagine anyone else looking after Harmony.”
Barukh replied with a little snark:
“Oh, really? I heard you were lining up interviews while I was hemming and hawing.”
“What can I say, old friend? It’s a plum job.”
“Tell that to my wife. Please.”
They ended the dialogue with a chuckle.
Trevor scrapped the holos and turned to Shireena, who handed over Murrill’s pom. He stared at the golden device.
“Can you imagine what we’d find on here with a phantom drill?”
She grabbed his arm with a delicate touch.
“Don’t go there. The day we start accessing poms ...”
“Yeah. I get it. We’re already walking a slippery slope.”
They drew closer, a hair’s breadth from a kiss.
“We don’t even pretend to obey the Charter anymore,” she said. “If we didn’t have Murrill dead to rights, he could come after us through the court.”
She was correct. They had stretched the letter of the law – even Shadow Gambit’s extended powers – to probe into places that arguably violated the man’s civil rights.
“I know.” He kissed her. “I also don’t care.”
She kissed him back.
“I’ve heard whispers. Some people think we want to turn Amity into a police state.”
“Whispers from whom? The ones like Murrill who got away with years of corruption?”
“Probably. But if they push back ...”
He quieted her concerns with a long, deep, wet kiss. If he didn’t have a full agenda, Trevor would gladly have done this for the rest of the morning.
“We’ll hold them off. We’re doing this in the name of safety. As long as we have Haas in our corner, we’ll be fine.”
“Sentiment is not on her side. Many people blame her for losing MR-44. If she’s defeated, we can’t bank on her successor.”
Of all the ironies, this one scrambled Trevor’s brain. He allied with a woman he didn’t trust. The same woman who Lana Devonshire said was behind a massive conspiracy to overthrow the existing order.
“Haas ... is ... Requiem.”
Those were the last words Lana uttered to Trevor. She was heavily drugged at the time, fading out. Might have misspoken. Maybe her intel was wrong.
Who knew?
Over four months, Haas gave Trevor no ammunition, and SI refused to accept his inquiries on the matter. They sent a mid-level agent to the security confabs. The new director seemed aloof at best.
Did Devonshire actually retire, as they announced?
Even Nexus, in his brief contact, avoided the subject.
“The election is out of our control,” Trevor said. “With everything going on, I doubt a new President will worry too much about internal Amity affairs. As long as we run a tight operation and keep trouble far away, we’ll be fine.”
She wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Or very close at hand, in one case.”
Yeah. Him.
Trevor wasn’t planning to bring it up, but she opened the door.
“Any progress on that front?”
