CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

VII
A N G E L , G H O S T , H A R P & S W O R D
UEO Commonwealth CVBN-110, the Polynesian Trench. April 14 th , 2043…
Lauren Hornsby sat stripped to her undershirt on the bench, the black jumpsuit pulled
down to her waist as she stared out from the cell in to the second block of Commonwealth‟s
brig. To some extent or another, she had left room for the possibility of this outcome, but
even she had not expected it to happen so quickly. For nearly twenty four hours, she‟d
stared at the infuriatingly dull bulkhead, waiting for even the smallest hint of news.
It shouldn‟t have taken Mark Ainsley this long to work it out and it was getting to a
point where Hornsby was starting to believe she was being strung out by the bull-headed
Vice Admiral solely for his amusement. Above all other possibilities that bothered the
Aquarius captain however, was that which she had not truly expected at all: the friction
between Ainsley and James Banick was so tense that she doubted neither man could make
any decision without causing problem for the other. This had come to a head when Hornsby
had willingly walked in to the middle of them, and left both men aching to bring her head to
Admiral Riley on a silver platter.
She found it more than slightly ironic that it was the only thing Banick and Ainsley
had agreed on since she arrived. Part of her half-expected Commander Razak or Captain
Stiles to enter and explain what had happened, but that, she had long since decided, was
unlikely. Stiles had his own orders, and Razak was smart enough to keep his head down,
lest he find himself in the exact same position.
Hornsby stood up and walked curiously to the bars as she heard the hatch at the end
of the long corridor crack open with a hiss, shadows playing across the room with the light
from the hallway outside. She saw the two marines on duty there snap to attention as a
figure dismissed them, ordering them to stand outside. Only once they departed did Mark
Ainsley stop outside her cell, his arms folded as he looked her up and down with a shake of
his head. “I didn‟t expect this from you.”
“Christ, Ainsley,” she spat. “This isn‟t what it looks, and you know it.”
The Admiral turned on his heel for a moment and ran a hand over his chin. Hornsby
heard the quiet sound sandpaper, and knew from his eyes that he hadn‟t slept. “Do I?” he
asked impatiently. “Because I keep trying to find out what‟s going on, and no one seems to
want to give me the courtesy of an explanation. That‟s why you‟re in there. If you want to get
out of that cell, maybe you‟d be so kind as to fill me in.”
Hornsby hesitated and folded her arms, feeling the chill of cold air rush up the
corridor from the other end of the cell block. “It‟s complicated,” she said, pursing her lips.
“I have time,” he challenged. “Do you?”
Hornsby stared at him for several long seconds before finally nodding. “You‟ve been
lied to,” she said simply. “The entire fleet, in fact, has been lied to.”
Admiral Ainsley stared at her sceptically for some time before he turned on his heel
again and started walking back towards the door.
“I‟m not finished!” she called, stopping him.
“Then start talking, Lauren, because I am about thirty seconds from drawing you up
and giving you to Banick. And trust me, that‟s very tempting for right now because he‟d
finally get something he wants, and would give me five minutes of peace.”
“You‟ve been given a mission you know is going to fail,” she said, eyeing the hallway
again for a moment. “You know as well as I do that an assault on Pearl is going to fail if it‟s
rushed to the timeline they want.”
Ainsley straightened. Hornsby smiled. Now she had his attention. “How do you know
about that?” Ainsley asked, his eyes narrowing accusingly.
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