Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) by Daniel Gibbs (novels in english txt) 📕

toward Grant. “You forget something, Agent. The Zvika Greengold is my ship. As her commanding officer, I and I alone decide what happens. If you think you’re going to torture someone on my ship, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“Oh, don’t be daft. You have to break some eggs to make an omelet.” Grant gestured toward Samaras. “He has information we both need to stop these destabilizing attacks on our rare-earth-metal imports. Get out of here and let me do my job.”

“The ends don’t justify the means.”

“Says the loser of every conflict and victors that want to feel good about themselves. The ends do justify the means, Colonel.” Grant’s voice rose. “People like you and the rest of the Coalition Defense Force get to sit high on your moral high horses because of people like me.” Grant sneered at her. “I do the difficult things that must be done—the things no one else wants to do—because it makes them feel bad. Now, get the hell out of here.”

“You will not torture this man. I’ll shoot you myself if I have to.”

Grant laughed. “This is rich. These assholes killed your pilots and crew, and you won’t let me get the information out of him so we can finish the job.” He threw his hands in the air. “Fine, have it your way. I’ll have orders here within the hour to transfer Mr. Samaras to a CIS-controlled vessel.” Grant turned to the prisoner. “Remember what I was telling you about some of those more fun ways of getting info? We’ll be using that first before the techno-toys.”

“Get out.” Tehrani set her jaw. “Now. Until you have orders from my superior to the contrary.”

Samaras stared at her. “Wait. You’re letting him take me?”

“If he has lawfully executed orders to transfer you, I must comply.”

“What if I give you something?” Samaras suddenly appeared like a cornered animal, with sweat pouring off his forehead and his face beet red.

“Go on. If you gave us information willingly, it would help me to say you cooperated with questioning.” What’s going on here?

“I…” Samaras began then bit his lip. He twisted his neck. “Damn you all. You’ve already figured out we’re getting support from an outside source. I’ll tell you this: our objective is freighters carrying lithium, neodymium, and praseodymium.”

“That’s not news,” Grant replied. “We already know that. Try harder.”

“We have a source that provides shipping manifests from the Interstellar Spacers Union. We tag the freighters in the Lagoon Nebula using micro-QETs.”

Tehrani glanced at Grant. “What’s a micro-QET?”

“Quantum entanglement tracker. Very small, expensive, and rare.” Grant’s face relaxed. “You will provide the access frequency and codes to receive the transmission.”

“Fine. That’s all you get.” Samaras shifted in his seat and snarled. “I won’t tell you where the main base is, nor will I give you any further information.”

“Take him back to the brig,” Tehrani said to the two masters-at-arms still in the interrogation room.

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” one of the privates replied.

With firm hands, they hauled Samaras out of his seat and trundled him off.

Left alone, Tehrani faced off with Grant. Anger still pulsed through her veins. She tried to dial it down and regain control. “I will be submitting a full report to my superiors and filing a formal complaint with CIS.”

“For what?” Grant replied.

Tehrani stared at him in amazement. How does this man sleep at night?

Grant tilted his head back and laughed. “Oh, Colonel. You played your part so wonderfully.” He smiled at her. “That was all theater for Mr. Samaras’s benefit. CIS doesn’t have the technology I described. A few scientists have tested such a device on mice, but they haven’t made it work yet. Ethics concerns and all. We have our limits, as do I.”

The mental image of backhanding the spy played out several times in Tehrani’s mind. She suppressed it and forced her lips to a neutral expression. “You played me.”

“Too harsh. I played Mr. Samaras. You did your duty. Colonel, the CDF are known as the proverbial white knights. Always eager and ready to do your part for God and country. I don’t have that luxury.” He paused. “Someone once said that nice people get to sleep safely in their beds because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf. This is no different.”

“If we can’t uphold the laws of the Terran Coalition, we’re a nation of hypocrites. There’s one thing I detest more than anything in life, Agent Grant—hypocrites.”

“Which I am not. I’m open and honest about what I am, Colonel. But I’ll do whatever it takes to defend my country.”

Anger built in Tehrani. Does he dare suggest I wouldn’t pay the ultimate price? “I would die for the Terran Coalition, Agent. My crew and I have come far too close too many times.”

Grant glanced away for a moment. “In a way, I envy you, Colonel.”

“What?”

“All you have to do is die for your country. I must have a soul as dark as death and do things ninety-nine percent of my fellow citizens would condemn, without medals, recognition, or even acknowledgment. If I died in the course of my duties, the only marker would be a single gold star with no name.” Grant narrowed his eyes. “And it is a price I will gladly pay. Even if my actions condemn my soul to hell, if such a place exists.”

The enormity of what he’d said took a few moments to register with Tehrani as she played the words over in her mind. “You would spend the rest of eternity in punishment for a finite construct in the here and now?”

“Well, if we’re getting metaphysical, I’d flip that around and tell you I was preserving the ability of several hundred billion people to live their faith freely.” He shrugged. “I don’t put too much stock in the afterlife, honestly. Or God, for that matter.”

“Such is your choice,” Tehrani replied neutrally.

“Is this when you tell me to get off your ship and don’t let the hatch hit me in the hindquarters on the