Chapter Four: Signals and Codes
It had been three days now since the arrival on the Valkyrie. Camille Starling was alone in her makeshift office revising her message that was to be sent to Admiral Corman later on that day. Her orders were simple, keep Tolan busy on the Valkyrie so that Aperlae could get her team together for the shadow mission to the S.L.A. base. She had gathered all of the reports and her investigators had formed leads within the hour of her arrival on Valkyrie. It was easy to do, but she made sure she kept Tolan out of the loop and dragged her feet whenever he would request a meeting or status report of any kind. She rubbed her brown eyes, which were probably more than a little glazed from lack of sleep. She had figured her brown hair probably needed some touching up, but she had been working around the clock to get the facts straight.
There was a knock on the door, breaking her train of thought. "Who's there?"
"Petty Officer Hannon from the Mess. You sent for some coffee and lunch?"
"Yes I did, come in."
In walked a young woman with a tray of food with a large mug of coffee sitting on it. Starling thought there was something familiar about the woman, as though she had seen her face before. She had on black rimmed eyeglasses and her brown hair was pulled back into her ponytail.
"Thank you, you're dismissed," Starling said.
The young woman nodded and left the room.
Starling took a sip of the coffee and began writing more notes. The more sips of coffee she took the more she began to feel tired. Her eyes began to become heavier and her mind began to drift. Finally she simply gave in and laid her head down on the desk. In no time at all she was fast asleep.
The door opened and Galit Malka entered the room; she had slipped a sleeping drug into the coffee and knew it would not take long for it to take effect. She had to disguise herself as a member of the Valkyrie's crew to make it happen, but it paid off handsomely. She quickly found the files on the grenade incident and left the room with them. She could easily photocopy them and have them returned before the Major woke up.
Half an hour later Malka, Barron, Bowman, and Tolan were sitting at the large table in the Officer's Wardroom poring over the reports Malka had 'borrowed' from Major Starling.
"She's eliminated almost everyone off this list; the woman moved fast," Barron exclaimed.
"Yeah, it would have been nice if she had let us know about it," Bowman said angrily.
"At least I was right about her; sometimes a gut feeling can be right on the money."
"Commander, I've looked over these reports and I think Major Starling was going to move on this man here," Malka said as she pulled a photo out of a folder and put it on the table. "Aviation Machinist's Mate 3rd Class Marcos Aldo, from the city of Iambe on Sagittaron. It seems he was caught on a surveillance camera entering the Marine Armory but leaving shortly thereafter. According to the notes the camera was turned off for maintenance but had been reactivated ahead of schedule.
"In that case, let's go pay Aldo a visit," Tolan said.
For this particular interrogation, the security cameras were turned off. The only person in the observation area of the interrogation room was Keene Barron. In the room with the suspect were Commander Tolan, Major Bowman, and Galit Malka.
Tolan took a seat across the table from the man while Bowman and Malka stood in a corner near the door. Malka's face was impassive while Bowman seemed ready to pounce.
Tolan's demeanor was nothing like Bowman's. Facing the man who had nearly killed him not that long ago, Tolan seemed to be in control of his emotions and nowhere near ready to kill the man.
"Aviation Machinist's Mate 3rd Class Marcos Aldo… you are in so much trouble right now. Attempted murder, sabotage, treason; and just so you know treason is probably more serious than the rest."
Aldo simply stared ahead, not even acknowledging the charges he would be facing.
"Alright, let me give you some advice. There is no way you could have sabotaged Major Bowman's Raptor and the Sica. I am certain you have at least one accomplice but if you have more I want all of their names. Do this for me, and I will do all I can to make sure you are shown some leniency."
There was a pause before Aldo said, "No."
"That's twice now you have tried to kill both Major Bowman and myself. The sabotage you did on the Raptor was great; but with the grenade showed that you might be a good engineer but you're certainly no soldier."
"Let me guess, you're going to sick the CAG on me. Look at him," Aldo made a hand gesture towards Bowman, "It's like the two of you are trying to play good cop/bad cop."
"I'll show you what a 'bad cop' is!" Bowman snarled as he came closer to the table. Malka put her hand on his shoulder and it seemed to snap him out of it.
"Beauty and The Beast at its finest; this has been a great comedy show the three of you have put on," Aldo said.
"You're scared of him," Tolan said.
"What?" Aldo asked with a degree of incredulity.
"You're scared of the Major. You see him glaring at you and you know that he could hurt you if he wanted to."
"Leave him alone in here with me; and I'll prove you wrong," Aldo said defiantly.
Tolan simply got up and walked over to the corner where Bowman and Malka stood.
"Maybe we can convince him to change his mind about providing his accomplices?" Bowman offered.
"I can convince him to do more than that," Malka said.
"How long?" Tolan asked.
Malka sized Aldo up with her eyes, "Not long."
"You're not going to kill him?" Bowman asked.
Malka simply smirked before saying, "I can break him." She had already realized she may have to hold back on some of her more intense interrogation techniques.
"Bowman, are you thirsty?" Tolan asked loudly enough for Aldo to hear him.
"Not particularly," Bowman said, his glare not leaving the man who nearly killed him and Tolan.
Malka moved out of the corner and sat down in the chair Tolan had occupied.
"Come on, I'll get you a cup of coffee," Tolan said as he opened the door and gestured for Bowman to follow.
"Really, you're going to leave me with her? You know, Commander, you're not trying hard at all."
The two officers looked back to see Galit Malka smiling sweetly at the man across the table from her.
There was a small conference room down the corridor from the interrogation room. Tolan went to the coffee maker and fixed two fresh cups of coffee.
"Commander, what exactly is Galit doing in there?"
Tolan walked over to the table and placed the cup of coffee in front of Bowman.
"I don't want to know, do I?" Bowman asked.
Tolan then sat across the table with his cup of coffee and shook his head.
"Okay." Bowman tried not to think of what Marcos Aldo was going through; but he could not quite muster much sympathy for the man.
"So Major, what do you think of Malka?" Tolan tried to pick a subject that would engage Bowman in conversation.
"It may just be me, but sheis way too nice a woman for all the ways she knows how to kill people."
"I take it she's told you all the ways she knows?"
"Well sir, let's just say that I wouldn't say anything bad about Galit and expect to survive the reprisal."
"That's the second time I've heard you call her 'Galit'. You're on a first name basis with her now?"
""I'm not saying anything about that, Commander. I'm not stupid." Bowman realized that Tolan had baited him and he'd taken it. It dawned on him that perhaps the commander had suspected he might be getting close with the MOI agent and wanted confirmation. 'Well played sir,' Bowman thought to himself.
A heavy silence fell between the two men, as though the coldness that had existed seemed to grow.
Finally Tolan decided to take matters into his own hands and try to reach out to Bowman. "I had to kick a pilot out of my air group when I was CAG on the Mercury," Tolan said, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two men.
"I'm sorry sir, what are you talking about?"
"He was an ensign newly graduated from the Academy. Ensign Rayford Lucas, his call sign was 'Turbo'. He was arrogant, hot-shot aviator; he became trouble immediately. He had little use for teamwork; he began to alienate and in some cases even endanger the other pilots."
"What did you do about him?"
"I tried to sit him down and talk some sense into him. The thing was that he was a damn good pilot and I saw potential in him; he just wouldn't listen to me."
"What finally happened?"
"We were called in to handle a pirate threat. A group of armed mercenaries known as the Erabea were attacking a convoy bound for the colony Idia in the Tesma Sector. The Mercury was the closest battlestar; and it was decided we could handle the attackers with ease. We jumped in and engaged the enemy, every viper was launched. Lucas went off and abandoned his wingman in order to launch his missiles at an enemy ship. The problem was that his wingman didn't know about it. She was distracted trying to find Lucas' location when her viper was hit by flak. Needless to say she didn't make it."
"I can understand if you wanted to fire him out of an airlock."
"When the after-action reports were done I called him into my office. I told him there was a raptor leaving for Picon in an hour and he had better be on it. Until then I had confined him to quarters to get his belongings together."
"I imagine he didn't take it well."
Tolan shook his head, "Not at all. He got real emotional, begged me to give him another chance. I told him it was out of my hands; none of the pilots would fly with him and they had to fly."
"You did the right thing though."
"It was the right thing; but if I had taken action sooner then it might have been one less pilot lost in that battle."
"What was the pilot's name?"
"Ensign Hélène Monteil; her call sign was 'Poet'. She was engaged to be married in two months. I wrote a letter of sympathy to both her parents back on Caprica and her fiancée on Leonis. The guilt I felt was terrible; it about tore me apart. One day I woke up, looked over the whole thing and promised that I would be better at my job. I'd become a better leader and not dishonor Ensign Monteil's memory."
"Why are you telling me this?" Bowman asked, though he knew the answer. In a moment of honesty, Tolan had extended an olive branch to try to build some semblance of trust. If there was thing they would need to complete this mission it would be trust. Bowman had read the files on Tolan and knew of the tragedies that had been dealt the Commander. It was at this point that Major Artimus Bowman decided that he could trust Commander Scott Tolan.
"Because I've been where you're at. Also, you're my second-in-command on this mission. There has to be a certain trust between us; and we have to be able to work together."
"What about Malka and Barron?"
"They're in charge of the rescue, along with our guest we'll need to pick up; and I am in charge of the military forces."
"Who is this guest we're taking along?"
"Do you remember when the Golden Apple of Aphrodite was stolen from the Delphi Museum?"
Bowman nodded, "Yeah that was quite a scandal there… Wait a minute; are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"
"We are taking Marcellus Britt along with us for this adventure."
"I remember Marcellus; that was the highest-profile case I had been a part of. I think this one is probably going to rank higher."
Malka stood in the doorway with a satisfied smile on her face.
"Glad to see you're done; how's our man Aldo doing?" Tolan asked.
"He's afraid for his life now. I didn't have to hurt him; but I left a very strong hint as to what would happen to him if he didn't cooperate."
"That's great; let's get his accomplices!" Bowman said.
"That will not be necessary," a voice announced behind them.
The three turned to see Camille Starling standing in the doorway flanked by two marines.
"Is there a reason you're here?" Tolan asked.
"Commander Tolan, you are the subject of an official Internal Affairs investigation."
"You assume I give a damn; that's cute."
"I wanted to arrest you and place you in the brig; however it seems Commander Adama had other ideas. Until the investigation into your actions can be completed you are to be confined to quarters."
Bowman stood up to say something; but Tolan held a hand up, "I will proceed to my quarters right now. Major Bowman, you are in charge of the squad until further notice. If there is anything you need me for visit my quarters right away."
Bowman noticed that Tolan had put an emphasis on visiting his quarters but was not about to say something.
Tolan lay on his bed, his arms folded behind his head. He figured if there was one advantage to being under what was essentially 'house arrest' it was that he got a chance to rest. He had to get a plan formulated though; the events with Starling only served to reinforce his belief that Corman and Adar had another plan for the rescue.
The hatch swung open and Major Bowman walked in, "Commander Tolan, there is an issue that needs your attention."
Tolan got off of the bed and stretched, "Have a seat at the table; we'll hash out whatever this problem is."
Bowman took a seat; and Tolan walked over and took a small radio out of the duffle he had brought onboard. Setting it on the table he turned it on and a fast-paced jazz song began to play.
"What's with the music?" Bowman asked.
"In case they have this place bugged it will make it hard for them to hear what we're talking about."
"I'm impressed; now what is it I can do for you?"
"I'm grounded for the time being; but I need you to take over for me and get the team ready to depart."
"What do you have in mind?"
"Take a Raptor and get Marcellus Britt out of prison. While you are away from the Valkyrie, get in touch with the Basileus and find out the status of the weapons shipment."
"I can do half of that; I just don't want the ummm…"
"You don't want to be tarred with the reputation of the Basileus. Right now they are our ticket into the S.L.A. base; it's as simple as that."
"They're a band of criminals, sir!" Bowman exclaimed, then immediately felt his face flush with embarrassment. If anyone would know that fact it would be the man sitting across the table from him.
"As if I already wasn't aware of that, Bowman; I will give you the contact information for my Aunt Lydia. When she knows you're on my behalf then that will facilitate things."
"I have to ask, are you aware of the rules you are asking me to break?"
"Rules are not necessarily sacred; principles are. If you want to sit there in judgment of me then so be it; but all I ask is that you not judge me by my background."
"Commander Tolan, I believe there is nothing you love more than a good fight."
"That may be true; but that doesn't change the fact that you're in charge now. I need you to do this; I believe you're the one for the job."
"What makes you believe that?"
"I may not be the smartest man in the Colonies; but I do surround myself with smart colleagues."
Bowman nodded his head, "Very well, Commander; I need to have a word with Gaeta first. He can monitor the Internal Affairs communications traffic for something we can use. I'll take Malka with me to Virgon."
Tolan stood up and offered his hand, "Good luck, Major Bowman."
"Thank you, Commander Tolan."
Bowman felt like a worlds-class pyramid player as he dashed around the Valkyrie making preparations with Gaeta, Adama, and finally the two MOI agents. Malka was to come with him on the Raptor while Barron was going to try to get another meeting with Aldo to see what further information could be gleaned from him.
With everything in place it was time to get ready to depart. Bowman walked steadily to Malka's quarters. He had noticed his own hesitance in his steps as he closed on the room opposite his own private quarters, a benefit of being the CAG aboard a Valkyrie-class. His slower pace echoed the confusion that seemed to have clouded his mind whenever he was around her. He wasn't sure what it was; physical attraction, apprehension or perhaps even fear? He didn't know how to take her especially after her interrogation of Aldo. His mind had conjured up a whole series of scenarios that could have happened but of course he could never be sure without asking.
He stood outside her room and braced himself before knocking three times, each one slow and firm.
"Come in, 'Ace'!" bellowed the voice from inside.
He opened the door and stepped inside to be greeted by Galit Malka standing in front of him still buttoning up her civilian blouse. Bowman had caught a glimpse of a white bra underneath; and almost like an embarrassed schoolboy he recoiled, pulling his eyes away and searching for something interesting on the adjacent wall. This was all much to Malka's amusement; and Bowman sensed that it was a deliberate 'accident'.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked struggling to beak the silence.
"You have a very distinctive knock," smirked Malka. "Or maybe I have set up hidden cameras all across the ship and have been monitoring you."
Bowman glanced to the side now that she was fully dressed in a white civilian blouse and denim trousers. "Have you?" he asked not sure if she was being serious or not.
She grinned from ear to ear before answering, "You are too easy, 'Ace'." This left Bowman feeling quite foolish but at the same time quite amused.
Bowman waited a few minutes in her quarters after she had insisted on gathering a few small items to take along for the ride. Among them was her Ministry of Intelligence coded ID badge and a small handgun that he had no doubt she was an expert at using.
"That's everything," Malka announced.
"Great, let's get going!" Bowman turned to leave the room and started stepping out of the doorway when he suddenly heard Malka call out his first name – something she had never done before and it was odd experience. He turned and to his surprise he saw her kneeling in front of her bed. He silently walked forward and heard what she was saying.
"Artemis, grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift. Should the worst come to pass, grant me forgiveness."
"What was that?" asked Bowman gently as she rose to her feet.
"A prayer I say before any mission; in this case I thought it would be appropriate," explained Malka who was now walking past Bowman leaving him standing there in the doorway somewhat surprised at this religious aspect of Malka's personality. She was indeed full of surprises. Recalling the words of the prayer and the combat that they implied Bowman silently hoped that divine intervention would not be necessary on this flight. He had already crashed one Raptor this week!
BATTLESTAR VALKYRIE
STARBOARD HANGAR DECK
"I've been thinking, we should go see the Basileus first," Bowman explained as they walked out onto the Hangar Deck. "It would be good to get an idea of what they've learned so far before we pick up Britt."
"I'll leave it up to you, 'Ace'," declared Malka. "I'm just here for the ride."
"Somehow I doubt that," said Bowman almost accidentally.
"What does that mean?" she asked stopping in the middle of the Hangar Deck almost oblivious to the Viper being towed several yards behind them. Bowman pulled her aside and stood her next to another Viper stored on the port side of the deck.
"I always get the feeling that you know more than you're letting on," said Bowman.
Malka's eyes looked down momentarily as her trademark cheeky smile curled the ends of her lips before she looked back up at him and said, "If I didn't then I wouldn't be much of an intelligence officer would I?"
Bowman almost didn't want the answer. A part of him wished she had lied because her answer implied that there was more going on than he had first thought. "I despise secrets!"
"I've noticed," she said. "Now I wonder why?"
"Don't 'Psych'!" he warned her. "Not today."
"Well, we will have plenty of time to talk about on the flight to Virgon," she said firmly and with that she began to walk towards their designated Raptor.
"Where are you going?" yelled out Bowman. Malka turned and saw Bowman still standing next to the Viper.
"Our Raptor is this way isn't it?" she asked. "Raptor Seven-Seven?"
"Yes; but we are taking Six-Three-One," said Bowman who was now grinning at the fact that he knew something she didn't. "Do you think after what happened with Tolan the last time I'm really going to take out the designated Raptor again?"
Malka gave an acknowledging nod implying she was impressed with his cunning. Bowman walked over to their actual Raptor and she followed him. As he opened the hatch to allow her entry he uttered, "Don't you just hate being out of the loop?"
She stopped and the two of them stood in the entrance to the small vessel. They had attracted some attention from several deckhands who were carefully watching them through the corners of their eyes.
She leaned up and whispered in his ear, "You really hate surprises don't you?" Bowman didn't answer. He didn't have time. She put her hand on his face and quickly kissed him on the lips before retreating inside the main cabin leaving him stunned and dazed as several of the deckhands laughed or jeered. Some of the more brave members whistled; and Bowman shot them a glare that threatened to space the lot of them. They quickly fell silent and Bowman followed her into the Raptor.
As he prepared the Raptor for take off he realized he had learned a valuable lesson here; she doesn't let anyone have one up on her for very long.
The street outside the restaurant sat in a mild summer Canceron sun. Shadows were slowly growing in length as the sun passed through midday and was beginning to make its way towards mid afternoon. Hundreds of cars pass through the street everyday often failing to notice the rather discrete establishment on the western side of the road; so nobody took any notice as a rather anonymous looking red Scorpia Sierra sedan pulled up onto the opposite side of the street.
Artimus Bowman turned the key; and the low grumble of the engine died away into silence. Galit Malka sat in the passenger seat and casually glanced around at the street in a manner that resembled someone looking for their favourite store. Her movements were subtle and confident. She didn't look at all out of place as she assessed the street for any potential threats. Bowman couldn't help but be impressed as he saw her coming into her element. She was no longer the unpredictable and playful woman who had embarrassed him on the Valkyrie's hangar deck only three hours earlier. She was now an MOI agent; and Bowman wasn't sure which he preferred.
"So do we just go up and knock?" asked Bowman.
"No," said Galit. "Zeresi isn't there."
"What?" asked Bowman who suddenly began to wonder why they had driven here.
"It's only 1320hrs," explained Galit. "Lydia Zeresi is right now at the pool hall on Samry Street meeting up with one of her collectors as she does every other day. Then at 1400, when the lunchtime rush is over, she returns here for a late lunch. She sits in public view but at the back of the restaurant. Always alone but her boys are never far away so we can't just walk up to her. We need to play it subtle. I'd hate to have to kill everyone in the restaurant. Blood stains are a nightmare." Galit turned to look at Artimus. It had taken him a few moments to realize she was joking and she wanted to catch the look of horror on his face before it dissipated into a fool's mask.
"Very funny!" he grumbled. "I got to be honest...I thought Lydia Zeresi would be smarter than that. I mean having her movements be so predictable; she's just asking for someone to take out a hit on her."
"You really don't get this do you?" laughed Galit. "This turf belongs to the Basileus. No one is stupid enough to make a move on them in their own neighborhood. They would all be dead by the time they got to that stop sign over there. Besides there is a very important reason she needs to be that predictable. It's so the Police and the Colonial Federal Law Agency know exactly where she is at any given time so when they suspect her involvement in something she has an alibi. Zeresi never gets her hands dirty."
Galit's words remained strong and consistent and so Artimus failed to notice that she seemed quite interested in a black Vergis Cruiser, a much larger and infinitely more luxurious sedan than their rented Sierra that had parked several spaces behind them. It had caught her eye because she had seen it at least three times during the drive from Fort Nellis where the Raptor had landed. She could just make out two occupants inside the vehicle and neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave their car. Galit pulled her eyes away from the mirror and saw a shop on the corner by the junction ahead of them. It was a good thirty to thirty five yards away and it gave her an idea.
"I want some ice cream!" she suddenly announced in a way that was more of a selfish child demanding the latest toy from her parent. Bowman looked at her in both a confused and annoyed fashion. "Some ice cream," she pressed on. "Over there. Why don't you go get us some? My treat?" She reached into her pocket and took out five Cubits from her purse. Bowman could tell by the rather amused look on her face, specifically the sly smile across her lips, that she was doing this to annoy him and so he just took the money and stepped out of the car.
The two occupants of the Tauron-built car sat and watched as Bowman walked away towards the shop. Galit had been careful to chose this particular shop because it was far enough away from any potential action to keep 'Ace' out of the firing line but close enough so that it didn't force whomever was following them to split up to keep an eye on the two of them. A large delivery truck slowly rumbled its way through the narrow street kicking up dirt and smoke as it went past.
The two occupants were only momentarily distracted by the truck; but it was all Galit needed. She had opened the door just slightly as if to throw some garbage out before slithering through the gap before finally closing the door and rushing to the opposite side of the car and out of sight. As she quickly made her way to the black Cruiser keeping low behind the car she couldn't help but be grateful to the Gods for her prowess in gymnastics.
The driver of the Cruiser had suddenly spied that the passenger in the Sierra was gone; but before it could properly register Galit was standing by his door and leaning into the window.
"Excuse me," she chuckled. "But aren't you two the couple from that reality TV show? You know, the one where they put you on a desert island and see who dies of stupidity first?"
Startled and infuriated the driver quickly started the engine and with his colleague hurtling misplaced insults at him and Galit the car drove off at high speed narrowly missing Bowman as he crossed the street with two ice cream cones. He only had to look at Galit and realize that he had been deliberately left in the dark.
"What the frak?" asked Bowman as Galit walked up to him and took her ice cream.
"Mmmm, cherry," she cooed as she licked the red sauce from off the top. "How did you know it was my favorite?" She took another lick before quietly saying, "Corman knows we are here."
"Corman!" gasped Bowman. "How do you know they weren't Basileus?"
"Let's just call it women's intuition. Come on, let's get back in the car before we draw too much attention!"
CAPRICA
Bridget Woods felt enormously out of place at Emily's. The aura of her affair with Scott Tolan, although it happened many years ago, still lingered over her and Bridget. There was a genuine feeling of hostile energy between the two of them; and so Bridget had decided that the best way to go about this visit was with a softly-softly approach. She spent short amounts of time with Emily and allowed her to dominate the direction of the conversations. When she felt the emotions rising she would come up with some excuse to leave but in such a way as to not arouse suspicion. As the day wore on Bridget had become mentally fatigued from maintaining this effort and this was not lost on Andre Graystone who had recommended that she take a walk around the surrounding Caprican countryside. It did not take much persuasion. Just walking out through the gate seemed to pull an enormous weight from her shoulders and she felt reinvigourated like she had been washed clean of her sin.
Caprica's countryside is as beautiful and spectacular as its cities are magnificent. Having changed into a more relaxing pair of grey sports trousers and pale blue t-shirt she began a slow and steady walk down the road adjacent to Emily's home. Except for the tarmac road the land surrounding this particular Graystone residence remained untouched by man. Only the top of several skyscrapers in the distance showed any sign of human civilization. For Bridget it was bliss.
The built up frustration that had been accumulating since her arrival had now provided her with an excess of energy in her legs; and she made little work of the rising and dipping road. Each step she took made her feel that much better. She had no resentment for Emily whatsoever; but the fact of the matter was that with Emily's miscarriage and Scott being away on a hazardous mission Emily was looking for someone to attack and her past with Scott provided the perfect target.
She was about a mile and a half away from Emily's house when she heard the low rumble of a motorbike approaching from behind her. She looked over her shoulder momentarily and saw a blue sports bike coming up the road. The rider wore a black one piece suit and matching helmet and seemed oblivious to Bridget who was walking beside the road.
Bridget didn't seem at all bothered by the motorbike which was a safe distance in the middle of the road and so she turned back to face forward. Her mind now turned towards Scott. As his XO and his friend she hated the fact that she was not by his side on this mission he was undertaking. She was naturally concerned about his well being and her natural instincts were in a protective mode. If only she could just talk to -
There was a sudden thumping sound on the back of her head. She felt herself fall forward uncontrollably and she rolled twice along the road. She was still conscious and her senses told her the impact wasn't that severe but enough to knock her down. Lying on the tarmac beside the road her eyes searched for an explanation but all she could see was the motorbike speeding away and strangely, bits of a broken branch from a tree surrounding her. Stunned, she could do little except lay there while she fought to get back her breath.
The rider continued on up the road and disappeared from Bridget's view as he went down the other side of the hill. The rider suddenly applied the brakes and the bike dipped forward they tried to stop the momentum of the bike. Finally coming to a stop at the side of the road the rider put his feet down beside the bike and quickly reached into his pocket to search for his phone. Removing his helmet to reveal the well groomed face of a man in his mid twenties he dialed in a number before holding the phone to the side of his head.
"Yea... It's done. You better go now before someone else comes along and sees her... Yes, she's fine. I used a rotten branch like you said to. I hope this works, brother."
The man ended the call rather abruptly before putting the phone back into his suit. As he was about to put his helmet back on he saw a blue classic sports car approaching him. He recognised it immediately and as the driver went passed the two of them shared a rather arrogant smile as their plan unfolded. Watching the car go off into the distance he uttered to himself, "Hope she is worth it, Bryce."
CANCERON
Artimus Bowman and Galit Malka stayed seated in their rented Sierra while they waited for Lydia Zeresi to arrive. The conversation had been surprisingly limited between them as they waited. Galit's thoughts were circling her mind as she searched for answers. How did Corman know they were coming to Canceron? They had been so careful before leaving the Valkyrie. It was an unsettling prospect for such a perfectionist as her to know that either she had screwed up or someone aboard the Valkyrie was feeding Corman information. She had to admit that she did consider that maybe Bowman was in on it somehow but that didn't make sense. As he constantly reminded her by both words and actions he had no stomach for this 'cloak-and-dagger crap' and seemed infuriated that he was being spied on by his own superior officers. No, it's not him.
"Hello?" murmured Artimus as a finely polished silver car pulled up outside the restaurant. The driver got out as two rather large looking men emerged from inside the restaurant and stood either side of the vehicle. Galit smiled as she recognised them from a previous encounter with these two men in an alleyway. They seemed to have healed up ok.
The driver stood beside the rear door and opened it to allow the passenger to step out. Lydia Zaresi got out of the car and walked past her bodyguards with only a nod of appreciation to the two men who followed her inside. A few seconds later the driver got back in the car and drove away.
"Now?" asked Bowman.
"Not just yet," said Galit. "Let her get settled first. It'll be harder for her to dismiss us if she has already started eating."
Bowman agreed and the two of them waited a little longer. Bowman became particularly agitated. This was an alien world to him that he didn't fully understand. He could take a Raptor and was confident enough to take on everything from surface to air missiles down to kids with slingshots but the thought of walking into a criminal den frightened the hell out of him and Galit picked up on this. "Ok then. Listen, when we go in just let me do the talking. You just stand there and look mean - should be easy enough for you, 'Ace'. Now remember she is queen of her castle and we are guests so treat her as such. She may say things that anger or upset you; don't bite! She lives in a world built on a foundation of fear and so she knows how to use it. Don't show fear and you can keep one step ahead of her. She will respect you for that. Ok?"
"Sure," said Bowman as confidently as he could.
"Alright," said Galit as she opened the door. "Let's go."
The two of them stepped out of the car and began to walk towards the restaurant. Half way across the road Galit reached underneath his left arm and hooked herself around it making them look as though they were a couple going out for dinner. Galit knew that this gesture made him more uncomfortable than going into the restaurant but it was easier for him to handle. Just before they walked through the front entrance Galit allowed her mind to wonder why he felt almost like he was cheating on someone when she knew he was single. His eyes seemed to betray an embarrassed sense of guilt and she was indeed curious to know why but that was a conversation for another time.
"Good afternoon," greeted the maitre d', a rather attractive dark haired young woman. "Table for two?"
"No thank you," said Galit politely. "We'd like to see Mrs Zeresi please."
"I'm-m sorry?" asked the maitre d' who was obviously trying too hard to throw them off and failed miserably.
"Just tell her that we are friends of Scott Tolan and we are here to discuss some of the arrangements," instructed Galit firmly but maintaining a smile that was intended to fool anyone looking into thinking they were discussing something as mundane as the menu. The smile faded from the young woman who knew it was pointless to keep up the pretence. The young woman walked away from them towards a dimly lit corner of the room where Lydia Zeresi was sitting alone. On the table beside hers were the two rather large bodyguards who were busily eating a chicken dinner. The young woman leaned down and whispered something to Zeresi who then looked over towards them. Lydia then whispered something back to the young woman who immediately came over to relay the message.
"Mrs. Zeresi will see you," she said before indicating the corner of the room.
"Thank you," said Bowman rather naively. Breaking her hold on Bowman's arm Galit led the way as they discretely walked over to her.
Lydia Zeresi sat back in her chair with a rather amused look on her face. She held a glass of red wine beside her chin as she examined the two people who now stood before her and had interrupted her routine for that day. They've got the stones of a Tauron to just brazenly walk in here demanding to see me.
"Mrs Zeresi," said Galit rather formally. "Thank you for agreeing to see us."
"You're welcome," said Lydia. "And who would be 'us' exactly."
"We represent your nephew, Scott Tolan," replied Galit.
"I see. And why couldn't Scott see me personally? Hmm? I would think that with all the effort I am going to on his behalf, especially given the fact that he has relinquished his ties to the family business, that I would at least earn a personal visit. I don't like dealing with errand boys or girls."
Being referred to as one of Tolan's errand boys did not sit well with Bowman; but he remembered Galit's advice and he kept his tongue still.
"Commander Tolan regrets that he is unable to attend personally," continued Galit. "He is currently engaged in fleet business that he cannot get out of."
"Then there is nothing more to say," said Lydia firmly hinting that she had no interest in continuing this conversation. Lydia's tone attracted the attention of the two men on the opposite table who stood poised to interfere. Artimus braced himself ready to demonstrate his amateur boxing prowess but Galit quickly interfered.
"With respect," she said. "Commander Tolan has authorized us to speak on his behalf. He wishes to convey his gratitude to you and your associates in this enterprise."
"Scott said he was grateful to the Basileus?" said Lydia clearly flabbergasted.
"Not the Basileus," explained Galit. "He wishes to convey his gratitude to you. You are the Basileus."
A sudden silence descended over the table. Lydia Zeresi had been in the game long enough to know a player when she saw one and she knew that Galit was playing her. The two of them shared a long stare and saw aspects of them reflected in each other's eyes. Bowman wondered how much of what she had claimed Tolan had said was true and he was sure that Lydia wasn't entirely convinced either; but Galit had nevertheless achieved her goal. Lydia stood up and leaned forward.
"Very well," she said. "You may convey the following message to Commander Tolan; the package is on its way; and I haven't forgotten the terms of our arrangement."
Galit smiled and politely nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mrs Zeresi. Good day to you."
Lydia didn't say anything in response. As Bowman and Galit turned to leave she nodded rather playfully to the two enraged bodyguards, "Gentlemen."
Walking back across the road Bowman was unsure what to make of the encounter. As they climbed back into their rental Sierra he turned and asked, "Did that go well?"
"Well enough," said Galit as she took out her phone from inside her jacket. "I've got to make a quick call." Galit tapped a number onto the phone so quickly that Bowman had no chance of reciting it. "Assistant Director Schwtizer's office please. Tell him it's Lieutenant Malka!"
Bowman listened to one side of a rather short telephone call before Galit hung up the phone. "We may have a slight problem. Britt's Governor is still refusing to turn him over without a warrant from the Libran Federal Courts. He seems he doesn't want to have a bureaucratic rope around his neck just waiting for someone to pull if this all goes awry and Britt is killed. It's the evening there now and so the Governor has retired for the night. He won't be back until tomorrow."
"Ok, so where does that leave us?" asked Bowman.
"We still go to Virgon. We will sort ourselves out a hotel room for the night and then go see the Governor in the morning. Tolan is paying so feel free to raid the mini bar if you like." Galit erupted into a burst of laughter as Bowman started the engine and began to drive back to their Raptor at Fort Nellis.
CAPRICA
Still dazed from the impact, Bridget Woods tried to get to her feet; but the startled adrenalin in her body made her tremble and fall uncontrollably. She suddenly heard the sound of a car stopping beside her and looked around to see the polished aluminum front bumper staring back at her. The driver's side door swung open and a man stepped out.
"Are you ok?" he called out. He rushed to her side and helped her to sit upright. "It's ok, I'm a doctor. In fact I think we met earlier today at Emily Tolan's."
"What?" said Bridget groggily.
"What happened? Did you fall?"
"I-I'm not sure. I was walking along and...there was a bike. I felt something hit me."
Dr Bryce Sabbeus began to examine Bridget. The acting Commander of the Battlestar Vanguard had no reason not to allow him to examine her and when he told her she was just a little dazed she agreed to allow him to drive her back to Emily's house. She had no idea that she was being used as a tool in a ruthless plan.
VIRGON
Artimus Bowman slumped onto the end of the hotel room bed. The room was a relatively spartan place with rather hideous beige walls and brown blankets placed on a bed that resembled something that was retained from the first Colonials arriving from Kobol. That being said, it was still a welcome relief for Bowman who had spent the day either in a car, in front of a mob boss or flying a Raptor from one end of the Twelve Colonies to the other. As he sat there in his loose fitting civilian clothes he looked back on the past few days since his first meeting with Commander Scott Tolan and sighed heavily. He could not remember a more hectic time in his life. He felt as though the events surrounding him had consumed him and he was caught up in them like a leaf floating on a powerful river that he had no control over. It was an unsettling feeling for a pilot.
The truth was, however, Artimus Bowman was in part thankful for the distraction the past few days had offered him. The dramatic change to his life brought about by this mission helped him focus his thoughts away from Brooke Garner who had otherwise dominated most of his being. Brooke was an open wound left unattended to rot and become infected; and no matter how hard he tried to move on from her she was always there. She was something special; the one. He knew he had to let her go but that didn't make it any easier for him. Now, as he sat in the hotel room with no outside stimulus except for the apparently tasteless wallpaper he found his thoughts casting back to her and he felt the wound opening up again.
Perhaps it was this hole in his heart that was causing him to be so bitter and resentful to Tolan? Bowman had to admit that there were aspects of the man he admired. He was headstrong and confident in himself, a trait of a typical Viper jock; but he was also methodical and a great strategist. By the same token these were things to despise. Tolan hadn't hesitated to manipulate him into getting what he wanted from this mission. They were both the same age and yet Tolan was two steps higher in rank despite Bowman's almost perfect record. This told Artimus Bowman that Tolan was connected and he used those connections like a puppet master making the dolls around him dance for his own bidding. As he fell back onto the firm mattress of the bed he concluded that as far as he was concerned the jury was still out on Scott Tolan.
There were suddenly three quite hefty knocks on the door; and Bowman snapped out of his train of thought. He sat up and braced himself knowing full well who was at the door. He clambered to his feet and seemed to drag his tired body the short distance in order to open it. Sure enough, his fears proved correct as Galit Malka stood in the doorway with a rather large bottle of liquor and two glass tumblers.
"Evening, Lieutenant," said Bowman.
"Evening, Major," replied Galit playfully. "I see your room is as dreary as my one." Galit didn't wait to be invited in. She simply walked past Bowman leaving the Raptor pilot almost frozen in his place. Finally accepting that Galit was here to stay he closed the door and turned to see her placing the two tumblers down on the bedside table before popping open the large bottle.
"You know what they say, Major," she said as she began to pour the drink into each glass. "When on Virgon…" She picked the two glasses up and carried them over to him before offering him one. Bowman felt compelled to take it. "Cheers!" She tapped her glass against his and they both took a drink. During the whole act of sipping the strong Virgon brandy Galit never took her eyes off Bowman. "How is it?"
"It's uh, good!" said Bowman as the liquor burned his throat.
"Compliments of Commander Tolan," she said as she sat on the edge of his bed. "Or at least it would be if he knew."
Bowman sat down beside her before taking another small sip of the drink. It was potent stuff and he felt it loosening his body. This of course had been Galit's plan. Despite the happy-go-lucky repertoire they had developed he was still a reserved individual with rather thick barriers surrounding him. But then again so did Galit; they were simply a different kind of barrier.
"I love coming to Virgon. Good food. Good drink," she said indicating to the glass in her hand. "I always wondered if I had a bit of Virgon in me."
"Have you ever thought about looking for your parents?" asked Bowman.
"Why?" she replied in a tone that was abrupt but not angry at him having asked the question. "They didn't want me; and I think I've made a pretty good life for myself in the MOI regardless."
"Doesn't it bother you? Y'know, not knowing your roots?"
"I wouldn't expect you to understand it," she said as she poured them both a second round of drinks. "I'm sure you've got family all around you. I bet you all get together on Colonial Day and light a barbecue in the back garden of your parent's house in the suburbs. Talk about sports with you father and your mother keeps pestering you to settle down. Make her a grandma."
This idealistic view that she had of his family angered Bowman. He knew that behind the smile and the jokes she harboured some deep rooted resentment for having been denied the opportunity to experience it for herself no matter what she said. He didn't know why but he felt he had to correct her.
"I haven't spoken to my father in over twelve and a half years," he explained before taking another drink to allow it to relax him some more. "Not since I was thirteen. Frakker! You see, he cheated on my mother and made her feel like it was her fault. She was so afraid of being alone that she accepted it. I saw what happened to her as she began to fall deeper into depression because of him. He was emotionally abusive; that's the worst kind because it never leaves any visible marks. One day I couldn't take it anymore so I just left and wound up at my grandparents house in Delphi. That's where I stayed from then on. My grandfather was my father figure. He taught me how to truly earn respect. He taught me how to fight but only when necessary."
"My Gods!" whispered Galit softly. "I had no idea."
"That even if you have a mother and father that life can still be frakked up?"
"No," she said before adding rather comically "That all this wasn't in your file. I'm seriously going to have to have words with the Admin department. This is quite embarrassing!" Galit burst into a fit of laughter helped by the third glass of brandy. Bowman's first response was annoyance but suddenly he felt his defences fall and her laughter became addictive. A smile emerged on his face much to her delight. Having allowed a brief moment to let go Bowman seemed to compose himself once more and return to business.
"So tell me about Britt?" he asked. "All I know is what I heard on the news at the time of his arrest."
Galit didn't answer straight away. Instead she climbed further up the bed and leaned up against the headboard before resting her legs behind him. "Britt was the first big case I ever worked on," she explained pointing and waving the hand with the glass at him. "Back when I was a civilian aid doing psychological profiling for field agents. He was… a menace. He was charming. Brilliant! A little bit out there."
"You seem quite taken with him?" asked Bowman hinting that there was some attraction emanating from her description.
"Maybe from the romance of your first big case?" she said speculatively. "He likes games. Any sort of game really. To him, stealing priceless treasures from maximum security installations was not about money or accolade. He saw it as the greatest game he could ever play. You see, he is on such an ego trip that he needs to prove himself constantly and that is why he is going to help us. Being in prison means he hasn't had much of a chance to do anything except count the days go by. This is more than a bid for freedom for him. This is a challenge."
"Sounds like an asshole to me," said Bowman with shocking bluntness brought on by the drink.
"Oh he is," said Galit smiling. There was a short silence between the two of them as the conversation came to an end. "Let me ask you something, 'Ace'? What do you normally do when there is a woman lying on your bed?"
"Ask her to get off!" he replied rather dryly. The two of them suddenly erupted into laughter once more.
"Oh-my-Gods!" laughed Galit heavily. "Stop the press! Artimus Bowman actually has a sense of humour. Underneath that hardened exterior beats the heart of a comic."
The laughter began to die down and Galit chose this moment to make her move. She put down her glass and leaned forward. Cupping his cheeks, she pulled his face to hers before kissing him passionately. He tried to fight her at first; but he felt himself giving in and he responded to her advance.
She pushed him down flat across the bed and she climbed up on top of him placing her arms and legs on either side of him before continuing to kiss him. The lustful passion suddenly subsided and the kiss became slow and sensual. His arms rose upward and he pushed his hands through her hair.
It was then he stopped.
Galit noticed that his interest had quickly waned and she lifted herself up to look at him. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I-I can't do this," he said looking away from her. "I'm sorry."
Galit lifted herself up and sat beside him once more. The atmosphere had turned very cold. Galit was not used to rejection; but to her own surprise she felt unclean for making the advance like she was helping him commit some heinous crime. The air became poisonous and almost unbearable. Leaving the bottle, Galit quietly stood up and walked out of the room.
Bowman wanted to say something but he didn't have any idea what? For those brief few seconds he had somehow convinced himself he was with Brooke and not Galit. He had been craving Brooke's love for so long that he allowed this to happen but the fantasy would only take him so far. To have carried on with the pretence would have been unfair to both Galit and himself.
"Frak!" he hissed as he threw his hands to his face in shame.
Author's Note:
I would like to give a big 'Thank you!' to The Wilky Bar Kid, author of the 'Battlestar Hermes' series, for helping to write a healthy portion of this chapter while my computer was out of commission.