Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) by Daniel Gibbs (classic literature list .txt) 📗

it’ll probably work. A shame the CDF doesn’t have more combat vessels out here, though. I’d rather take my chances with a heavy cruiser or two backing us up.”

“I suspect in this activity, stealth and guile will go further than brute force.”

“As you say, ma’am.”

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormhole,” Bryan announced. “Five thousand kilometers off our bow.”

Tehrani sucked in a breath. “That’ll be Grant or the Leaguers.”

“Not sure who I’d rather face,” Wright replied darkly.

“Careful what you wish for,” Tehrani murmured.

“Conn, TAO. Lawrence drive signature shows as a freighter registered out of Lusitania, ma’am,” Bryan said in amazement. “Contact designated as Sierra One. IFF is showing ISV Dumaran.”

On the tactical plot, Tehrani zoomed in to get a bird’s-eye view of the newcomer. As her tactical officer had noted, the ship appeared every bit the independent cargo freighter. Right down to the wear and tear on the hull from micrometeorites. Military vessels and ships owned by large import-export firms had extensive maintenance schedules performed regularly. Independent bulk haulers generally had more worn appearances because they couldn’t afford the same level of support. The unofficial motto of CIS sprang into her mind. By way of deception, thou shalt do war.

“Conn, Communications. Incoming vidlink request from Agent Grant, ma’am.”

“Put it on my monitor,” Tehrani replied and cast her eyes upward.

Grant’s smiling face appeared on the screen. “Greetings, Colonel. Beware of CIS officers bearing gifts.”

Tehrani forced a neutral expression to her face. This guy gives me the creeps. From the moment she’d met him, something in the back of her mind screamed, “Run—don’t walk—away as fast as you can.” Each encounter only furthered the feeling. “I take it this is the Q-ship you mentioned.”

“Got it in one. CSV Farnborough at your service… as I explained, she has several legends. We’re using one out of Lusitania for the time being because they’re shipping a lot of lithium to our shipyard complexes. With your permission, I’ll shuttle over, and we can hold a council of war.”

Isn’t that cute… the civilian playing war. “Granted. We’ll see you in the conference room in thirty minutes.”

“Grant out,” he replied.

The screen cut out, and Tehrani could’ve sworn she felt a chill go through her.

“That guy creeps me out,” Wright said. “Something about him.”

Tehrani glanced at her XO out of the corner of her eye. “Truth.” She turned to the bridge chronometer. “I have just enough time to jog down to my mess, get a sandwich, and be back in time for our resident spy. You have the conn, Major.”

“This is Major Wright. I have the conn. Aye, aye, ma’am.” He grinned at her. “Don’t be late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied before springing up from the CO’s chair and heading out the hatch in the aft of the expansive combat information center.

Much as she’d predicted, it took about twenty-five minutes to get a bite to eat, consume it, and head back to the conference room. Tehrani allowed herself the time it took her to scarf down the sandwich to stare out the windows in the officers’ mess, into the void. Something about the stars and visible nebulas helped soothe her soul. The beauty of the universe was something that had always spoken to her.

It’s as if Allah drew a giant painting in the sky. She lamented that instead of exploring the wonder and beauty of the universe, her section of humanity was fighting for its existence. Will we ever learn? After a sip of water, Tehrani stood, smoothed her uniform, and headed back to deck one.

An uneventful gravlift ride later, she emerged into the passageway that led to the bridge along with her conference room and day cabin. With a curt nod toward the Marine sentries standing guard at the hatch to the bridge-slash-CIC, Tehrani entered the conference room to find everyone present and accounted for. Even Grant was early.

“Colonel on deck,” Wright called out as they all stood and came to attention.

“As you were,” Tehrani replied. She sat at the head of the table, while Wright, Whatley, and Justin took the right side. Nishimura and Grant were seated opposite them.

“First off, Colonel, I want to assure you I have full sign-off from CIS on using the Farnborough.” Grant’s one-hundred-watt smile never faded. “Your direct observations have piqued my superiors’ interest, up the chain to the director of interstellar intelligence.”

“A pity we can’t get more ships,” Tehrani replied.

“Well, I did shake loose a few toys for you.”

Wright leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”

“Oh, another EMP device like the one we used the last time we worked together.”

“I take it you have everything figured out already?” Wright replied.

Grant leaned back. “As a matter of fact, I do. We’ve filed false cargo manifests with the interstellar spacers union and made sure they were leaked on social media by a fake account associated with one of the known crew members of the Dumaran. When the pirates take the bait, because it's too good to pass up, we’ll be ready.” He glanced at Whatley. “One of your fancy pilots can drop the EMP on the first ship they send in. We’ll mix it up with their small craft and wait for the Greengold to ride to our rescue.”

“Wait a minute,” Wright interjected. “If we drop off a flight of Sabres, the pirates will know something’s up the moment they jump in. If I were them, I’d hightail it outta there with a double jump.”

“Oh, I suppose I forgot to mention we can store and launch eight small craft in two of our cargo holds. There’s also a set of breaching pods, and I believe you have Marines aboard for a VBSS team.”

Nishimura turned to Tehrani. “Pods would be a lot better than our assault shuttles, ma’am.”

Having a spook come in and tell them how to do things troubled Tehrani, but she had to admit the spy seemed to have thought of everything. “And what’s the plan if the pirate carrier returns and catches you without us or the battlegroup?”

“Then we