Notes:

CO - Commanding Officer

LEAP - League of Earth Alliance Patriots


Due Process

Knight Shade, Palaven, Trebia – 1 Oct 2188

Following Liara's rather detailed instructions, Riana had contacted both Sergeant Maddix and Corporal Gracelyn Medina. Maddix immediately validated the request, so Medina set to work and the lists Liara had requested came in quickly. Medina's response had also included a contact address for Zoë Lawrence's number two, a woman by the name of Jana Cantrell, who would be able to provide Riana with the full, unedited versions of the biodata and DNA profiles for each of the detained Atlas members.

Cantrell had been surprisingly uncooperative at first, demanding information on Zoë's condition before she would provide any of the data. Riana had simply sneered, "Do what you want, Ms Cantrell, but you are in no position to bargain. The rules for this transaction are very simple; you send me the requested data, so I can confirm your people are who they say they are. If you comply and everything matches, they get released… at which point they can contact you directly and you can hear, first hand, about their treatment during their stay with the Marines there. If you don't provide me with information that matches… perfectly… the data I have received from the Alliance, then their detention will be extended until you do. Period."

Allowing Jana no time to respond, Riana continued, "Now. You have undoubtedly gleaned my ident code and comm address here aboard the Knight Shade while we have been speaking. Use it to send me the data… or don't. Honestly, it does not matter to me in the least." She had then reached up and terminated the call; less than ten minutes later, the Asari smiled triumphantly when the complete data packages for all six of the Atlas personnel popped into her system.

The detention department had detained the three men for trespassing in an Alliance facility, and for being in possession of falsified identification docs and, while the Cousineau sisters had been employed as temporary kitchen staff for the luncheon scheduled to take place after the dedication ceremony, forged citizenship credentials and their lack of long-term employment histories – an obvious tip-off that their histories had been 'created' – were the reasons for their detention. Once she sorted the data, Riana immediately set to work, carefully comparing the information on her view screens, and quickly realized the information on Tim Stafford, Boris Sutton and Rich Clemons, along with that of Émiléda and Melina Cousineau, was an item-for-item match between every independent source.

Because of Zoë Lawrence's past interactions with her captain, Riana had felt it necessary to scrutinize the woman's records more thoroughly than she had the others. With Zoë's DNA profile sitting right in front of her, Liara's First searched back through every available database. That the dark-skinned woman with the ivory-colored tribal facial tattoos had once been Maya Brooks was a proven fact; her voiceprint had been obtained during the Reaper War, and perfectly matched all of her subsequent communications obtained during the Victory Tour. Still, Riana felt the need to find additional corroborating evidence that Maya Brooks and Zoë Lawrence were one and the same person.

After an hour of diligent searching, the commando was finally forced to admit to herself that Maya Brooks, Captain Channing, Rasa, and Hope Lilium did not appear in any current database, anywhere. The Asari could find no evidence that the names and identifying characteristics associated with each had ever existed, even in several of the more obscure records… databases maintained by alien races that were much less friendly to the Asari than to Humans or Turians. She is… or was… very thorough… came the grudging admission. … have to give her that.

Fortunately for Riana, background information about Maya Brooks did still exist; she didn't have to search for more than a few minutes within the old Shadow Broker archives to find the files containing everything known about the woman during her entire employment run with Cerberus. Looking at the more recent Broker files, she also located all the data logged during the investigation of Maya's attempt to kill Shepard, the collateral damage of which had nearly cost Karin Chakwas her life. The last Broker entry on Brooks before her appearance with Jack Harper on the Citadel centered on her being the primary suspect in the cold-blooded murder of Donnel Udina. With a feeling of disbelief, Riana thought, These Shadow Broker files are the only records of that assassin's past activities… anywhere! Goddess! The only proof of the crimes she committed during her previous aliases!

Riana immediately located a pair of blank OSDs, queued them up in the recorder, and copied every last bit of data about the assassin, including the never released details concerning her connection to Udina's murder. An all 'round assassin, came the unwelcome and reluctant thought. She excels at using rifles from long range but doesn't shy away from getting up close and personal with a blade, should it prove necessary to successfully complete her mission.

Pulling the copied data files, she carefully placed the disks in an accessory pocket within her leathers. I'll store these with my personal gear, just in case… should it ever be required, these records could simply… reappear.

Riana's search did uncover an interesting fact… 'Zoë Lawrence' had supposedly been employed by Cerberus as an analyst, prior to her termination on 31 May of the previous year… exactly one week prior to the Reaper's destruction and the end of the war. The commando couldn't help but grin at Brook's one obvious oversight – the same thing that had gotten the Cousineau sisters into trouble – the created history simply didn't go back far enough. Nowhere in the record was there a date indicating when Lawrence had been hired by Cerberus. The grin quickly faded as she thought about the level of proof this information did not provide. Doesn't mean much, though. She could easily explain it away… all the destruction during the Reaper war… databases destroyed, records lost… any number of excuses.

With a quiet sigh of surrender, she added the name 'Zoë Lawrence' to the list of Atlas members validated as non-hostile, before grudgingly forwarding a summary of her results to Lady Liara and Spectre Shepard. Nara may have developed a bit of trust for her, but it will be a long time… a very long time… before I will even consider such a thing.


"This is everything known about the people detained in Vancouver, Riana?" Spectre Shepard was reviewing the results of Riana's research into the backgrounds of the seven people placed in custody immediately after the murders.

"With the exception of Frédéric Klein, all of them are verified members of Atlas, Captain. Zoë Lawrence and Tim Stafford were already known to us, obviously… but, so were Boris Sutton and Rich Clemons, the other two men that accompanied Lawrence and Stafford to New York in January, when they murdered Jessica Mikhailovich. We've never seen the two women… the Cousineau sisters; they were in the kitchens and failed in their attempt to stop what happened to Prime Minister Trost. Unfortunately for Trost, they did not think to look for food allergies." Riana shook her head in bewilderment. "Who in the galaxy, in this day and age, has food allergies that haven't been treated?"

"Humans aren't like the Asari, Riana. Gene therapy is provided only to those who can afford to pay for it." Shepard sighed over yet another shortfall of the supposedly 'enlightened' Human race as she commented, "Even Traynor's parents couldn't afford that luxury before her birth… fortunately, Sammi doesn't appear to have any deathly allergies to Asari cuisine. Her slight smile evaporated as she asked, "Were you able to discover anything new about this Frédéric Klein bastard?"

Lips firmly pressed together in a straight line, she grumbled, "Other than the fact that he was sent to kill the prime minister? He very likely would have succeeded but for Zoë Lawrence." Riana huffed, her dislike for the woman evident in her tone of voice. "A woman like Lawrence… having used cloaking generators for Goddess only knows how long… certainly knows what an individual so cloaked looks like when moving. The Marines guarding Hoffman probably would not have detected Klein before the knife he wielded was buried somewhere vital within the prime minister's chest."

Shepard was surprised. "Zoë Lawrence tackled this guy without knowing who he was or how he was armed?" Looking meaningfully at the Vanguard, she added, "Sounds to me like another person I know… an Asari, who has never hesitated to react to any perceived threat."

Riana's face turned slightly darker as she stared at her captain. "Sim're! Are you implying that the actions of a former assassin are in any way akin to my own?"

The Spectre chuckled. "Riana, I recall a story I was told about your first-year anniversary working for House T'Soni… something about a cloaked intruder at the townhome in Armali? It just seems to me that Zoë Lawrence isn't that much different in her goals of keeping people safe from harm." Holding up a hand to forestall the protest forming on the Vanguard's lips, she added, "I'm not advocating we completely ignore her past, Riana. But we do have to deal with the present… and that means the people we are encountering now. I have come to believe that Maya Brooks is truly dead. She died, either inside the temple on Thessia, when you were so badly injured protecting Liara, or on Horizon, when we raided Henry Lawson's lab. She was on the Crucible for the sole purpose of killing Jack Harper, not me."

Riana remained quiet while Shepard studied the reports on the datapad for several more minutes. Only when she had finally come to a decision did Shepard break the silence. "Have Specialist Traynor contact the base commander in Vancouver and have him release all the Atlas people from custody; Spectre authority. Zoë will be confined to the hospital for a number of days yet… I would like to meet with her there. And Riana?" Shepard's expression hardened ever-so-slightly, and Riana fully expected some form of chastisement for her obvious bias against the woman previously known as Maya Brooks. The commando was surprised when Shepard merely added, "Please ensure that Traynor reiterates my previous instructions regarding Frédéric Klein. They are to take no chances with him; I honestly believe he would chew off his own arm if it would help him escape from custody."


Atlas Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 1 Oct 2188

Jana Cantrell was troubled by the total lack of official information concerning Zoë, as well as the three men and, especially, the Cousineau sisters… Shepard's information officer had been anything but cooperative – downright rude, if Jana was any judge of character – stubbornly refusing to provide any information regarding the wellbeing of the Atlas agents. The Asari had repeatedly asked Jana for verifications – a copy of each of their complete bio scans and unaltered identity documents – and offered nothing in return other than a promise to obtain the same information from the Marine contingent detaining them in the newly dedicated headquarters. If, and only if, both sources could be satisfactorily cross-referenced, Shepard would invoke Spectre authority to have all five agents released from custody. The Spectre's agent had even managed to make their potential release sound more like a threat than a promise.

Jana was nearly in tears by the time the conversation ended. On the bright side, at least Tim had managed to persuade Alliance Marine Sergeant Vassili Maddix to speak with Spectre Samantha Shepard on Palaven; all that mattered in the end was that he had garnered the Spectre's attention and got the ball rolling.

After Nina sent the requested information to the Knight Shade, she had independently confirmed that Zoë had been the heroic civilian who was grievously injured by the assassin that had targeted Ambassador Hoffman. The discovery that Zoë had suffered a pair of stab wounds by former Cerberus assassin Frédéric Klein was like a slap in the face to Jana. Back in the day, Klein had never accepted an assignment from the Illusive Man unless the payday was huge and the getaway assured; he was so good that Jack never argued with him when he refused – whatever the excuse – he simply sent Kai Leng, or Maya Brooks after Leng's failure to kidnap or kill the council members on the Citadel.

Nina had also discovered that Klein was locked away, incommunicado, in the same medical wing as Zoë. She handed a datapad to Jana as she said, "Apparently, Ms Lawrence attempted to shove the bastard's larynx into his spine with her thumbs." She continued with a smirk, "She would have succeeded if Sergeant Maddix hadn't kicked him in the head to get him off of her. The doctors performed emergency surgery to repair his trachea; he's also recovering from a mild concussion. It remains to be seen if he'll be able to breathe without whistling."

The only other thing they could glean from the news reports was that Corporal Gracelyn Medina had accompanied the medics moving Zoë into the facility for emergency surgery, and that it was very likely she had been assigned as Zoë's guard during her post-operative recovery. As good a place to begin as any, Jana thought. She did not believe anyone there – with the possible exception of Zoë – had any knowledge of Klein's background. It's the closest we've been to the whore-son since Zoë came back in and rebranded us. I simply have to let someone there know about this.


Alliance Military Headquarters, Vancouver B.C., Earth – 1 Oct 2188

Corporal Gracelyn Medina had been Lawrence's guard ever since she had attempted to staunch the flow of blood from Zoë's wounded side during the attacks. Over the past couple of days, she had managed to learn very little about why Zoë had risked her life to prevent a cloaked assassin – someone that had gone unnoticed by virtually everyone – from reaching Ambassador Arthur Hoffman. When the release message arrived via Spectre channels during her lunch break, along with the strongly worded warning about Frédéric Klein, Medina began to believe things were making more sense.

She reasoned since Shepard apparently knew about Klein, it only made sense that Zoë, who seemed to be working with the Spectre, also knew… and was likely part of Hoffman's protection detail. The murder of Admiral Hackett by one of their own Marines certainly explained Zoë's silence – the poor woman didn't yet know for sure who she could trust… including Gracelyn. But, now that Medina had begun to figure things out on her own, she planned to speak with Zoë about the message when she returned to the patient's room after lunch.

Then, a seemingly routine extranet message hit the inbox of her personal omnitool. The sender was Jana Cantrell, the woman Zoë had been asking them to contact since she had first regained consciousness after her emergency surgery. Medina assumed the message would ask her to have Zoë contact Jana at her earliest convenience… an assumption that could not have possibly been further from the truth.

Gracelyn read the message through three times, scarcely able to believe the dire news Cantrell had felt so important to relay. This makes no sense! If Zoë's organization is working for Shepard, Cantrell should realize we already know about Klein… so, what the Hell is going on? She continued to puzzle over the mystery as she dumped her tray into the recycle bin and prepared to return to the secure wing. Shit! Why is nothing in this life ever cut-and-dried?


A soft double-rap of knuckles on the door to her room brought Zoë's head up, as Corporal Gracelyn Medina – 'Gracie' to Zoë – slowly entered the room. With a strained smile, she bid the woman a good afternoon before inquiring as to how she had slept. After exchanging their usual pleasantries, Medina's smile completely dissolved, her lips pressed firmly together in a straight line, before stating, "I received a message during lunch, Zoë. A couple messages, actually… and, I'll admit, they are more than a bit confusing… and contradictory to me."

Zoë had grown to trust the corporal during the intervening days after her surgery… she admired her forthright, no bullshit manner; that she had quite probably kept her from bleeding out on the parade grounds had cemented a bond, tenuous as it might be, with the young Marine. "If it bothers you that much, perhaps you should keep it to yourself, Gracie. It's not as if I'm going to leave here anytime soon."

"That's the problem, don't you see?" Before she could second-guess herself, Medina spoke out. "Spectre Shepard has issued your release order… but, obviously, you're not able to leave… at least, not yet."

Hearing this caused Zoë's jaw to drop. "Seriously? I'm free to go?"

"Just after surgery and missing a kidney? Not likely… There is one condition and one minor complication that came along with your release..." Medina closed her eyes and plopped down in the chair where she had spent several hours during each of the previous days. Zoë had to strain to hear the corporal's next words. "First, the condition… Shepard says you are not to leave until she comes here to meet with you. Second, the complication… Frédéric Klein is incarcerated here, in the secure surgery wing…."

"That fuckin' bastard nearly gutted me like a damned Varren, and he's in this very hospital?" Zoë now possessed another piece of the puzzle, but still had no explanation as to why this should upset Gracie. Zoë's eyes bored into Medina's as intensely as a pair of lasers. "How much do you know about him? You must know something, if his presence here bothers you so much."

"It's not Klein's presence that's bothering me… You'll likely feel a bit better about it, knowing that Spectre Shepard has a strict 'no contact' policy for the man. He's locked up tight in a guarded medical chamber and is being kept lightly sedated."

"Good." Zoë closed her eyes for several moments as she fought to rein in her emotions. Blinking them open again, she breathed, "He was a professional assassin back in the day… before the war, Gracie… excelled at completing contract murders, up close and personal, always with a double-edged straight blade."

"Neither Klein nor his presence in this hospital is the source of my confusion..." Medina watched the expression on Zoë's face as she continued, "That particular honor belongs to my second lunchtime message… the one I received from Jana Cantrell. If you're working for Shepard and know all about Klein, why is it that Ms Cantrell felt compelled to send a message telling me to warn you about him? Things aren't adding up, Zoë. Just who in Hell are you?"

"Seriously?" Zoë actually chuckled. "That's all that's bothering you?"

"What's so funny?" Medina didn't look very amused, so Zoë decided to get straight to the point.

"Before the dedication, we had only identified one of the four assassins, and it was the shooter, not Klein!" Zoë rolled her eyes. "If we had known Klein was involved, we might have done things a bit differently… well, a lot differently." She paused and shifted on the bed, finding the controls and tipping the back up a bit more so she could speak with Gracie more easily. "Klein is a vicious bastard… and, seeing as we have been held incommunicado, Jana has no idea what's been going on here. She has every reason to be concerned about my safety… Hell, the safety of anyone that comes in contact with him, especially if no one had identified him. Jana wasn't involved in the actual op… so she remained back at the home station. Not being able to talk to us likely has her scared to death."

"Home station? I don't understand."

"Gracie, I've come to trust you over the past few days, and you need to know what I'm about to tell you." Zoë huffed as she thought about what she needed to say… and the way she needed to say it, finally beginning her explanation, "I'm the executive director of a fairly large group of people, all dedicated to keeping Humans and Aliens safe from the xenophobic beliefs espoused by organizations like LEAP, Earth First, and Terra Firma. Our work is generally low-key… we prefer to expose these people to the harsh light of day… the unforgiving judgement of public opinion, rather than take direct action. My group's name is… Atlas." She watched and waited to see how Medina would react to this new information.

"Atlas, huh? Why didn't you tell me sooner, Zoë?

"I wasn't sure…" Swallowing hard, she reached for and grasped Medina's hand. "Please try to understand, Gracie."

Returning the hesitant grip, Medina replied, "Okay… So, you didn't know if you could trust me." She shrugged. "I suppose that's understandable, given Corporal Hamilton's actions." A small smile lit the corners of her mouth as she added, "Though, you have to look at it from my perspective. Me saving your ass from bleeding out should have earned me at least a little bit of trust, don't you think?"

Zoë squeezed the hand in hers and laughed, honestly laughed, for the first time in she didn't remember how long. With a grimace of pain, she pulled her hand back to press against her still healing, stitched up side as she responded, "You're right, I should have… and dammit, laughing really hurts… but it feels good, Gracie." The expression on her face softened and their eyes met. "It feels good to have found a new friend… one I now realize I can count on."

"As long as it doesn't break regs, I'm here to help you," she answered with a smirk. Medina looked around. "You know, even though the Spectre's restriction says you can't leave the hospital yet… technically, you're released. So, I can go to the evidence lockers and get your stuff! Would you like that?"

"Like it? Hell, yes!" Zoë's eyes lit up. "Does that include my omnitool?"

"Sure does!" Gracie's smile widened as she added, "And visitors! I imagine you have a few folks who want to see you, now that they can."


Zoë hadn't realized just how much she missed having an omnitool on her wrist; she had just finished sending a message to Jana and one to Nina, outlining all that had happened since she had tackled and tried to choke a violently resisting and cloaked Frédéric Klein, when a soft knock on the door drew her attention. Tim Stafford, dressed in the clothes he had been wearing for the dedication, hesitantly looked past the mostly closed door as he asked, "May I come in?"

Surprising him, Zoë's face lit up with an enormous smile as she brought her arms up and spread them wide. "Tim! I was so worried… thought they'd have you restrained down in a sub-basement flogging you with a rubber hose for info! Come here!"

Tim walked up to her bed and bent down slightly, there to have a pair of muscular arms wrap around him, hands flat against his back. "Don't expect this kind of greeting every time I see you, Tim… but damn! It really is good to see you in one piece!" She released her embrace and placed a hand on his shoulder to pull him down a bit further; reaching up, she placed a quick kiss on his forehead. If Zoë had been prone to any shyness or embarrassment about her actions, her dark skin would have hidden any hint of a blush, and the happy smile from a few moments before faded away as she said, "If you're visiting me, you must be free to leave the premises. I need you to get back to base, let Jana know you saw me and I'm doing okay, then get to work looking for the miserable bastards that ordered these murders."

Stafford nodded as he replied, "Exactly what I intend to do… as soon as I get clearance from Spectre Shepard; same as you, I've also been restricted to base. Apparently, she wants to talk to both of us, in person, before either of us can leave. Once that happens, I'm planning to assist Jana, Nina and Max… first of all, to see if we can discover who in Hell paid Klein's exorbitant fee to come here to kill Ambassador Hoffman." He sat in the chair beside the bed as he added, "Jana told me that Nina had started to look for Walker's employers, but she quickly discovered Spectre Shepard had already sent a team to capture him before he could get out of Vancouver."

Zoë nodded her acceptance of that as she asked, "Is what I've been hearing really true? None of the aliens in attendance were targeted?"

"All true. This op was a conspiracy engineered by Humans to kill Humans, Zoë. Delacroix is already on the quest, searching for the trail of credits.

"So… Shepard has already snagged Walker. It was him that took that long shot, correct?"

"All the evidence points to him; Sergeant Mathieson let slip they retrieved his rifle – it was a heavily customized M-98, just like what we discussed in our earlier meetings." Tim leaned back in his chair; in a suddenly somber tone tinged with true regret, he said, "It's a real tragedy about Admiral Hackett… betrayed? Murdered by a member of his protection detail? Son of a bitch, Zoë! Xenophobic sympathizers in the Alliance Marines… the Navy? How in the Hell are we supposed to deal with that?"

Zoë reached for and clasped Tim's hand. "I don't know… the ideals that formed Cerberus didn't just cease to exist with the Illusive Man's death fifteen months ago. Hell, it actually seems they have intensified since then, and sympathizers in the Marines and Navy make our own goals much more difficult to achieve."

A twinge in her injured side caused Zoë to catch her breath; Tim noticed this and slowly stood to leave. Looking down at the hand he still held onto, he reluctantly placed it on the bed next to her and released it. "I should go. I need to call Jana and Ms Delacroix; let them know we're okay here. Also, I may have uncovered an unhappy-with-the-state-of-the-galaxy Marine here on base so, as long as I'm stuck here, I'll use the time to do some background on her – Sergeant Diane Häberli. She interrogated me right after I was detained. Impression I got was she was happy about the deaths, sorry about the misses and wanted to seriously kick my ass for having anything to do with the latter."

Zoë used a hand to gently massage her side over the missing kidney and said, "Let me know if I can assist you from here. And ask Jana to come see me. As soon as I can move a bit, we could have lunch together… I could use a female friend to help me out, and Medina's not here all the time."

"You'll have a guard once you're out of the ICU recovery, won't you?"

"I will. But, I would really enjoy having another friend at my side." Her expression clouded as she concluded, "Never needed anyone back in the day, ya know? Now?" She left the question hanging as Tim nodded, turned and quietly left.


Corporal Medina had come to visit Zoë after having dinner; she had been sitting in the chair beside the bed as she listened with increasing fascination to the Atlas director's tales of a young, unidentified operative working for Cerberus, from before the Geth attack with Sovereign on the Citadel. Somehow, Zoë managed to tell the stories without revealing much, if any, critical information.

At her mention once again of Klein, Gracie's face took on a solemn cast; she slowly unfastened the three upper clasps of her SDU jacket, reached a hand in past the collars of her blouse and undershirt and pulled out an object originally retrieved from inside one of Zoë's boots. Holding the sheathed straight-blade knife in front of her, she asked, "Does the blade Klein preferred to use look anything like this, Zoë? It's seems a perfect match for the one Doctor Stegmann extracted from your side… the one that's being held as evidence for his attempt to murder you."

Zoë attempted to keep surprise from coloring her expression. "I had nearly forgotten I had that with me. You don't think that I…"

"It's a perfect match, Zoë! Frédéric Klein was going to impale Ambassador Hoffman with a knife that's a virtual twin to this one, right down to the Cerberus emblem on the hilt… instead, he used it in an attempt to gut you. Can you offer me a rational explanation as to how you came to be in possession of this weapon?"

"I took it from a Cerberus assassin that died on the Citadel," came the partial lie. "It's simply a souvenir… to remind me of my true purpose when things become difficult." With a small sigh, she concluded, "You already know I lived a very different lifestyle before the Reaper War."

"Care to elaborate?"

Zoë had grown to like Gracie, if not as a friend, then certainly as a non-hostile ally. Would she think less of me if I admitted to being a stone-cold killer? Dropping her eyes in regret, she breathed her response. "No… I'm afraid I can't."

"Can't… or won't?" Medina's expression was unreadable as she stood up. Placing her hands on the edge of the bed, she leaned over Zoë so she could look straight into the woman's ebony eyes. "My gut tells me you're lying about this blade, Ms Lawrence," she accused softly. "By every regulation I am sworn to uphold, I should have logged this blade into evidence and reported my suspicions regarding you to my CO."

Zoë wasn't ready to concede anything. "Evidence of what, Gracie?" Zoë whispered, not quite ready to trust this woman enough to admit to being a paid assassin in her past life. "I saved Ambassador Hoffman… and all you have is a clean knife and your suspicions. Do us both a favor, please? Give it back to me, and forget you found it."

The corporal held her position in front of Zoë for what seemed a lifetime before nodding her head ever so slightly while pushing up to a standing position. Stepping over to the small closet, she placed the sheathed dagger in the top of the woman's right boot, then turned back to Zoë with a corner of her mouth tipped up slightly. Refastening the clasps of her jacket, she replied, "It's already been forgotten, Zoë. I hope you never find yourself in a position where you have to use it… and that you never violate the trust I'm placing in you by returning it to you."


Special Operations Center, Earth, Sol – 2 Oct 2188

Surprisingly relaxed, Walker watched the colonel as she entered the room and sat down at the far end of the long, rectangular table between them. He remained quiet as he met her eyes; studying the obvious military lifer in silent contemplation, he waited for her to break the silence. With Sharon's eyes boring into his, she finally spoke… her quiet authority dominating the space. "I'm not going to bullshit you, Mr Walker; you're in quite the predicament here… a massive amount of trouble which will prevent you from ever leaving here as a free man, no matter what is said or done in this room today."

Walker leaned back in his chair and casually dropped his arms in his lap. "So, what's the point of talking to you, Colonel? As it seems my fate has already been decided, just tell me what the Hell it is and be done with it."

"A true fatalist." Culver smiled lightly and continued, "You won't ever be a free man again but, perhaps, you can set the terms of your imprisonment. Cooperate, and you could be set up in a nice place, just enough people to watch over you, and you could live out your life in relative luxury… Or not, and you could go to a prison work camp until you dwindle to a bag of bones and die of old age before you reach the age of seventy."

"Such wonderful choices." Walkers' expression did not reflect the forced joviality of his words. "The real question, then, is what do I need to tell you to get the most favorable outcome? I never have been one to partake in much socialization. I find most people agonizingly tedious to converse with; dullards who would please me more if they would simply leave me alone and not feel compelled to chat. I would relish living out the rest of my days in solitary luxury, protected at Systems Alliance expense and never having to look over my shoulder. It sounds… idyllic."

Mistrusting such seemingly willing compliance, Sharon studied the expression on Walker's face as she listed her expectations. "At a minimum, we want everything you know about the overall assassination plot… Then, we expect the minutest of details on your part… where the name of the individual… or individuals… who hired and paid you – not just the organization – are non-negotiable pieces of the puzzle." Sharon narrowed her eyes and finished, "This is a one-time offer, Mr Walker, so the more details you give us regarding the entire event – from start to finish – that we can verify, the more options you will have for your future with us."

"Is that all?" Walker chuckled. "You want me – an assassin recognized for confidentiality and discretion – to give you an exposé on my failure to deliver? Have you totally lost your mind?"

Shrugging, Sharon replied nonchalantly, "That's entirely possible… I've been called a crazy bitch more than a few times in my career. Even so… is my insanity coupled with your ability to live out your life in secluded luxury such a bad combination?"

"Fix my damned teeth and jaw as a show of good faith and I'll tell you what you want to know." The smugness vanished from his face as fast as the flash of brightness after a bolt of lightening and he sat forward in his chair, placing his shackled hands on the edge of the table that sat between them, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "I owe those bastards nothing, Colonel. They refused two of my funding requests for certain equipment that would have guaranteed my escape, giving me inferior substitutions that have cost me my equipment, my livelihood… and, quite apparently, my freedom. They wanted premium service at a budget rate; nowhere in my contract was I required to fall on my sword if captured, so screw 'em! Their willingness to hang me out to dry works both ways…"

Walker suddenly laughed, a bone-chilling sound that sent a shiver down Culver's back, before he added, "Even if you're blowing smoke up my ass and planning to throw me to the dogs after I tell you everything, I have no doubts you'll go after those stingy pricks. Just knowing that… even if I'm dead or wasting away in some shithole… that you're going to bury them? That is the very definition of sweet revenge." He sat back in his chair again, relaxed and with a smug expression on his face once more. "Get me to an oral surgeon and I'll be ready to begin as soon as I can speak again."


Rio de Janeiro, Earth, Sol – 3 Oct 2188

The next morning, Walker awoke to find himself in a well-appointed room, a fine suit hanging in an open armoire, along with all the necessary accoutrements. His hand rose to his chin and he wiggled his jaw; the excruciating ache that had been present since he had awakened in Alliance custody had faded to a dull memory. His index finger carefully probed his mouth, finding implants where two gaps had existed the day before and he smiled. Well… I'll be. Maybe they aren't joking after all.

As soon as he climbed out of bed and slipped into the luxurious robe laid across the bedside chair, it became immediately obvious he was being watched, as a male attendant stepped into the room. "Good morning, Mr Walker. Would you care for breakfast in your room, or would you prefer to visit the dining room? The view overlooking the bay is truly quite exquisite."

Not honestly expecting an answer, he flatly queried, "Where am I?"

The attendant simply smiled. "You are in one of the secure VIP suites within the Isle of Galeão Military Hospital. As you have likely noted, your surgery went very well… so, following breakfast, you will be escorted to Colonel Culver's office to begin your debriefing."

"Debriefing… not interrogation." Walker chuckled softly. "I suppose this whole charade is intended to give me a taste of how my life will be, should I cooperate, no?"

"Yes, Sir, it is… but it is no charade; this morning should be considered a live demonstration of the treatment you could enjoy for the remainder of your life." The attendant's expression grew foreboding as he concluded, "And trust me on this, Sir; there are a great many people in the Alliance Military who are hoping to see this entire process end quite differently… If I were you, I would place my complete trust in Colonel Culver and act accordingly. You do not want to be difficult and be removed from her charge; I can promise you that."