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

skulking about in the shadows. Give me a target, and I’ll erase it. Leave the spy craft to the spooks at CIS.

Tehrani exited her day cabin and walked the few steps to the hatch for her conference room on deck one, which was assigned exclusively for the commanding officer’s use. She pushed the hatch open and strode in.

“Colonel on deck,” Wright called out as he stood and braced to attention. Everyone else in attendance—Nishimura, Whatley, Justin, and Grant—did the same.

“As you were and take a seat, gentlemen.”

As they sat back down, Tehrani slid into the chair at the head of the table.

“Damage report, XO?”

“Minor hull damage. Still troubleshooting some issues with our port-side point-defense emplacements. Nothing major. The Greengold didn’t lose any crewmen, but two pilots were KIA.”

“Search-and-rescue got the rest?” Tehrani asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

While the loss of two lives meant something, especially to their families, Tehrani felt relieved at the low casualty rate. “Major Nishimura, what of your Marines?”

“Eleven KIA, another dozen or so wounded. Those bastards fought hard—harder than I’ve ever seen criminals fight in my life,” Nishimura replied with a grimace. “I spent three years on a VBSS team, hitting suspected pirates and smugglers weekly. They always gave up after firing off a few rounds to preserve their honor.”

Grant snorted. “Honor among thieves. Now there’s a ludicrous concept. Again, it all points to something more than simple piracy.” A wicked grin spread across his lips. “I intend to ferret out what when I question the prisoner.”

“I’ve been giving that some thought, Agent. We need to get a JAG representative out here to handle his interrogation.”

“With respect, ma’am, we don’t have time for JAG to get someone on a transport and jump them five hundred light-years.” Grant set his jaw. “Besides, our guest isn’t a prisoner of war, nor is he a common criminal. I’m classifying him as a saboteur and subject to the War Powers Act.”

Tehrani vaguely recalled the law being passed during the Saurian Wars; it allowed military tribunals to decide the guilt or innocence. They could also rule on sentences for those found guilty, including alien saboteurs and other irregular forces operating without the benefit of a uniform. The thought immediately made her uncomfortable. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Once I inform the prisoner of his status, I will commence an enhanced interrogation.”

“Is that a euphemism for torture?” Wright blurted out. “Because I’m pretty sure any use of torture in the questioning of a captured POW is against the Universal Code of Military Justice.”

“He’s not a POW. Saboteurs have no rights,” Grant shot back. “I’m not in the mood for a high-and-mighty morality speech, Major.”

“I took an oath to defend the constitution of the Terran Coalition against all enemies, foreign and domestic.” Wright leaned forward and gritted his teeth. “That includes spooks who would stoop to the lows of our enemy.”

Grant tilted his head back and laughed. “Is the air thinner on your high horse, Major?” His face morphed in an instant to a snarl. “Colonel, heel your dog. I don’t have time for this.”

If looks could’ve killed, Wright’s facial expression would’ve melted Grant into a puddle of constituent fluids on the deck plating.

“You will not address my executive officer or anyone else on my ship in that manner, Agent Grant.” Tehrani’s voice and her eyes were steely as she stared the CIS operative down. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Apparently there’s some intelligence in there somewhere. Tehrani cleared her throat. “Do we know what killed the crew members of that ship, besides our Marines?”

“As much as I’d like to take credit, Colonel,” Nishimura began as he shrugged, “it wasn’t us. Oh, we bagged our fair share, but a nerve agent got the rest. The eggheads will need to sort out exactly what type of compound, but given the foaming at the mouth coupled with violent spasms, I think that sounds like an airborne toxin.”

“Undoubtedly it will be something able to be made with over-the-counter products in neutral space,” Grant mused.

Tehrani detested the tension in the room. Wright still seethed, his face bloodred, while everyone else’s frowns and crossed arms screamed “Go away.”

“What enhanced interrogation techniques would you consider using, Mr. Grant?” she asked.

“You’re not seriously considering—”

“I haven’t agreed, Major,” Tehrani replied, raising her hand. “But I want to know what he has in mind.”

Grant cast a glance at Wright, coming close to sneering at him. “You probably don’t want to know.”

“If you expect to get within twenty meters of the subject, you’ll tell me. Now.”

“Fine. I’m authorized under the War Powers Act to use stress positions, sensory deprivation, mock executions, and psychological stressors.” Grant made them sound as dull as a grocery shopping list.

“What sort of psychological stressors?” Wright asked pointedly.

“Classified intelligence protocols, Major. You have no need to know.”

“Are we really going to let him do this on our ship, Colonel? If we adopt the tactics of our enemy, we become our enemy.”

Tehrani narrowed her eyes. “No, XO, I will not.” She turned to Grant. “You will not conduct mock executions, nor will you use any methods not expressly allowed by the Canaan Convention on Human and Alien Rights. Do I make myself clear?”

Before Grant could speak, Whatley leaned forward. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we stick this piece-of-shit pirate in an airlock and purge the oxygen?”

Everyone turned to face the CAG.

Tehrani’s jaw dropped. I thought I knew him better than that. “I don’t think I heard you right, Major.”

“Well, nice to know someone in here is willing to do the hard stuff,” Grant replied, his voice dripping acid. “Can we get on with this?”

“I will not allow torture on this ship. Period.” Tehrani pursed her lips and felt anger erupt inside. “Now, move on.”

A pregnant pause followed as Wright and Whatley traded glares.

Grant sucked in a breath. “When may I question the prisoner?”

“Once he’s been processed and cleared by medical personnel, and I will personally observe,” Tehrani replied. As Grant opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand.