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what the 28th century was likely to throw at her.

The NanoBTher, the safety from abuse under Gonzalez’s protection and the comfortable salary Selissa Bassett received were as close as she could get to being an Elite without actually becoming one.

‘The MIS has officially halted any investigation into the Leech murders pending your capture and debrief,’ Lieutenant Rivas continued, bringing Gonzalez’s attention back into the room. ‘I was supposed to be debriefed today myself, but, erm, something came up and they postponed it to tomorrow. I wasn’t followed,’ Rivas added quickly when Gonzalez gave him a sharp look. ‘I’m sure of it. I—’

He stopped, letting Gonzalez draw the appropriate conclusions.

It was hard to decide where the appropriate conclusions ended and wishful thinking began. Their covers really were as watertight as technology and good planning could account for, and the exact parameters of their op at the 4th were a closely guarded secret. The only person who knew crucial details, apart from Ingram, Megan and Gonzalez himself, was Lieutenant Rivas, and the only person who could give Rivas orders relating to his current assignment was his MIS team leader, Colonel Larsen, aka DCI Raphael Gonzalez.

The chain of command in the MIS was ironclad and left no space for misunderstandings. The MIS as a whole functioned independently from the rest of the military and reported directly to Military Command at the highest level. Within the MIS the individual teams functioned separately, and their autonomy and freedom of movement were essential. When it came to secrecy, what some called borderline paranoia, others found reassuring. The word trust gained special meaning in the MIS. As long as Colonel Larsen remained in active service, on his current assignment, he was the only person who could order Rivas to talk.

That, of course, changed when Colonel Larsen was declared rogue. At that point Colonel Larsen’s orders became illegal and anyone receiving them not only had every right to ignore them but was also duty bound to report receiving them. Also, at that point, Lieutenant Rivas became one of the unassigned Special Forces operatives under the general employment of the MIS, and could be questioned, or interrogated, by anyone investigating Colonel Larsen.

Given that as far as the MIS knew Major Aisha Toscano and Sergeant Selissa Bassett were the only other two people who knew what Colonel Larsen was up to, and they were conveniently undercover and unreachable, it made Lieutenant Rivas the only person the MIS could question.

So why would the MIS let him go? Gonzalez mused. Since the beginning of time, positions of power have attracted a certain type of people. Human history is littered with examples of how greed for power and money can twist even those who appeared sensible when they fought for that power in the first place. Visionaries and revolutionaries would start with the good of the people in mind, but as power and resources grew, their ideology would change and become more self-serving. Which is why most revolutions brought in more problems than they solved.

The 28th century had its own equivalent of that problem. When the Afro-European Alliance allowed the System to fail to control how power could be used and abused, it became a breeding ground for the worst type of people the human race had to offer.

The Governing Council was corrupt. So was the military. In fact, the line dividing the government and the military was thinner than most people realised. Too much money, millions of creds, frequently swapped hands in the course of a not-so-honest working day. Other favours were also routinely exchanged for personal gain and profit.

But not everyone in power was rotten. If Lieutenant Rivas had been allowed to simply walk out through the front door of the HQ, someone was clearly willing, and able, to effectively cover for them.

It was easy to assume it was the General, the mysterious person they reported to. Colonel Larsen had trusted the General with his life since the day they met, many long years ago at the end of the Freedom Wars. But Gonzalez suspected it wasn’t him. Oh, the General had plenty of power to arrange something like that, but he was also too important to step out of the shadows for something that didn’t require his attention. In fact, the General was probably too busy cussing Gonzalez’s stupidity for possibly having wasted his own career and the opportunity it would present one day.

Given his family’s connections and resources, Colonel Larsen’s name could be reinstated in a heartbeat. If Gonzalez turned himself in, pulled some strings, paid a few bribes and made some alluring promises, he would have those who had tried to blacken his name on their knees apologising, figuratively and literally. He could go back and snap his fingers and there would be dozens of people tripping over each other to help out. Willing to create perfectly believable stories. Justifying what Larsen had done. Showing him to the world as the hero who fought valiantly for the values the World Government and the Afro-European Alliance had been upholding for centuries. Such was the power of the Larsen name and the deep, desperate desire to be owed a favour by such a fine, powerful family.

Needless to say, Larsen had always despised that. He had no intention of turning himself in and kissing ass to save his own posterior. Now that he had made the first step, he was going to make the second, and then the third. And the fourth. Until he finally made some fucking difference.

If he turned himself in, if he allowed desperate strangers to bail him out, his life from that point onwards would be studied under a microscope. His fight against the System would be over. His career would be over. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to live and work actively supporting the System and following orders to that effect. He would have to resign.

The only reason he had joined the military was to fight from within. To gain access to where the decisions were

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