Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise belongs to Paramount Pictures, it is not mine.


Chapter 10

Affliction

"Computer, access satellite logs 137, time parameters 1900 and 1945, today."

The screen flashed at him "No data available" message.

Tactical Officer Malcolm Reed briefly stiffened in disbelief. That cannot be right. Maybe we do not have a proper connection.

"Starfleet Operations, this is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed aboard Enterprise."

The quiet of no one answering was deeply unsettling to Lieutenant Reed. His hackles started to raise, mind running over possible scenarios.

"Please acknowledge," he tried again, hoping that it was just a connectivity issue.

"Burning the midnight oil, Lieutenant?" The white-haired man on the screen was someone Lieutenant Reed hoped never to see again. Yet, Malcolm Reed was an officer in Starfleet and would give his superiors their due – whatever unflattering thoughts he might harbor about them on the side.

"Sir, I thought I was calling Starfleet Ops," Reed stiffly acknowledged his former superior, pointedly reminding him that he had other duties to perform.

"Let me guess. You want to know why the grid covering San Francisco was down for maintenance tonight," the man affably suggested.

"Something like that," Malcolm stiffly acknowledged. His private alarm was ringing at full volume by that time.

"Meet me at this address in one hour," Harris transmitted an address in one of the residential suburbs of San Francisco and disconnected.

Chief Tactical Officer of the Enterprise automatically visually checked the Armory to make sure that there was no one listening in on their transmission. Then, his mind started to cover what needed to be done to get Earthside to meet with Harris and not to raise any suspicion. He did not doubt that Section 31 had its fingers all over the kidnapping of Doctor Phlox now. The only thing the Armory Officer was missing at this time was their motive for it. And he fully intended to uncover it as soon as humanely possible.

The mist in San Francisco reminded Malcolm of home. Not the one his parents currently had in Malaysia, but the one he remembered from childhood – the misty Albion.

He finally found his erstwhile superior standing next to a tree.

„Am I to understand you are responsible for this?" Malcolm immediately demanded from his former handler. There was already little love lost between them, owing to his departure from the Section.

"Not me personally," the white-haired man kindly pointed out.

Malcolm couldn't hold the disbelieving scoff back even if he tried to.

"We have an assignment for you," Harris continued over him without missing a beat.

"I was not aware that I was still part of your section, Harris. I report to Captain Archer now," he informed his former handler coldly.

Harris looked him up and down with a disrespectful gaze. "That is not the Malcolm I know."

"This is the Malcolm there is now," came the quiet, self-assured answer.

"Nevertheless, Lieutenant," the Section handler continued in a reasonable tone," I have some information you might find useful here."

There was a data chip in his hand.

Reed was eyeing it suspiciously but extended his hand to take the proffered piece.

Harris might be older than the Lieutenant and removed from the direct fieldwork for many years, but he was still quick as an attacking cobra when the situation called for it. He dropped the data chip and grabbed the outstretched hand of the Enterprise's Chief Tactical Officer, jerking him closer.

The split second of surprise was all that Harris needed. His other hand darted forward, bringing the knife he held in it between the Brit's ribs unerringly.

Malcolm Reed was momentarily frozen by the acute pain, unable to voice pain nor surprise.

"You made yourself a liability to the Section, Lieutenant."

Harris looked his victim in the eye for several moments, helping him collapse to the ground with an air of almost regret.

Malcolm felt as if from a great distance dispassionate hands patting him down and removing his communicator, phase pistol and his knife from its sheath. He realized that Harris was looking straight into his eyes with sadness again.

"You should have stayed with the Section, Jaguar."


Captain Jonathan Archer fervently hoped that the early morning call from Starfleet Security to come down to San Francisco to identify a body of his Security officer had been some sort of mix-up, since his Security officer was still on board the Enterprise. They were preparing for a hasty departure, hoping to follow a lead on their kidnapped doctor, after all.

But when the buzzer did not bring Malcolm to open his door, an uncomfortable feeling started to make itself known in Archer's stomach.

He used his commanding officer override code, only to discover that there was no one in the cabin.

The dread started to solidify after a brief query of the computer revealed that the Armory head had beamed down to Earth shortly after midnight on an unspecified errand, but had not come back up in the meantime.

Jonathan Archer asked Trip to accompany him down to Starfleet Command, leaving T'Pol to oversee the last preparations with a harried We will be back as soon as possible and then we are leaving.

The Security detail waiting for them at the transporter alcove brought both men short.

Archer was about to say something, when the Ensign in charge beat him to it.

"Sir, the Doctor has been kidnapped and now we are missing Lieutenant Reed as well. Ensign Gomez has assigned us as your protection detail, when coming down. Please, do not delay and let's get this done, so we can get on the way to find the Doctor. Lieutenant is a tough customer and if he was kidnapped as well, he has a better chance at saving his ass than the Doctor."

Archer noisily exhaled, realizing that Em Gomez was acting as Malcolm would have done, however it cut against his personal grain.

He grudgingly nodded his assent and all four men stepped on the transporter pad.

Down at the Starfleet Command, their appearance caused a few raised eyebrows. The Lieutenant waiting for them decided not to comment in the end, though her disbelieving stare spoke volumes nonetheless, as she led them to the morgue to confirm the identity of their John Doe.

The refrigerator doors opened and a stretcher with a sheet covered body ran out.

The autopsy assistant took the sheet and pulled it back, revealing the slack face of their Armory officer.

Jonathan Archer closed his eyes in pain. Trip's exclamation next to him was much less restrained and much more colorful than the situation called for.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I can confirm that this is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed." He got out a moment later, voice strained.

The woman opposite him nodded, motioning for the assistant to cover the body again.

"Wait a second! How did he…what happened?"

That was Trip, pale as a freshly washed sheet.

The woman stared at him for a second, clearly torn between her duty as an investigator and her sense of comradeship with fellow Fleeters. When she noticed that the Captain was watching her as well, clearly waiting for an answer, she straightened.

"He was stabbed several times. Preliminary examination suggests that the stab wounds resulted in a massive pulmonary trauma that led to the death."

Both men looked stunned at that. It was not a good death.

"There is an ongoing investigation into this, Captain. Now, if you would, please?" The female Lieutenant was pointedly moving towards the door leading out from the morgue, both men following her out.

The Security detachment from the ship did not ask any questions, when they saw their commanding officers emerge from the morgue. It was not necessary.


Author's note:

I have been looking through similar stories, trying to find where Malcolm Reed's Section name started - Jaguar is not my idea. i have borrowed it, shamefully I admit without asking original creator for permission - it just fits with my personal headcanon very well now. If I manage to find the author/they contact me, I will update it here accordingly.

Em Gomez is probably also a part of fandom, though I found some mentions about Gomes in official sources and she should be from the Armory, its second in command. Nevertheles, the same applies as for Jaguar - if the original creator objects, I will alter the story.