she had not especially been looking forward to, nor did she enjoy them while she was having them. In doing so, however—in taking firm actions regarding Calhoun and what he did know, or didn’t know but strongly suspected—Nechayev had set upon a course that she knew was ultimately going to cost her one of her most reliable and useful allies.
But it could not be helped. If Calhoun had to go, then he had to go. And she had to do whatever was necessary to make certain that happened. There was too much riding on it.
He was clever, though, and even though he trusted Nechayev implicitly, he would not blindly fall into line and obligingly march straight into a trap. He had survival instincts that made cockroaches look like lemmings.
So she had to lure him in, and the only way to do that was to play upon the trust that he already had in her. Trust was not something that Mackenzie Calhoun embraced easily. He was the most suspicious bastard in the galaxy. The flip side of that, fortunately enough, was that once that trust was given, it was a sacred thing with him. He was relentless with his enemies, but utterly dedicated to his friends. In some respects, it was arrogance on his part. Once he trusted someone, the trust became self-sustaining, a reason unto itself. The notion that someone could betray that trust never entered into his thinking because if he trusted someone, then they were permanently worthy of it. Circular reasoning. Q.E.D. It was the one vulnerability in Calhoun’s intellectual makeup, and the only one that she was in a position to exploit.
She intended to do just that. And the first step in that process had already been put into motion.
Nechayev was sitting in her office, absolutely immobile. Anyone glancing in at her would have thought that she was either dead or a statue. Her gaze focused on thin air, as if she had selected a particular point at random and was now putting all her attention on it. She could have remained that way for an indefinite period. If an earthquake was shaking the building to pieces around her, it would not have jolted her from her meditative state. She had “preset” her mind so that only one thing would allow her to be roused from her contemplations.
The office intercom beeped and her aide said briskly, “Admiral. Captain Calhoun is here.”
The Admiral blinked once, twice, and then pulled herself back into the real world. “Admiral?” came the aide’s voice a second time, but she was already clearing her throat and saying, “Send him in.”
The doors hissed open and Mackenzie Calhoun strode in. Despite everything that he had been through and all that had happened recently, his back was as ramrod straight as ever, and there was a dangerous determination in his eyes that underscored his indefatigable personality. He was a cork in an ocean, capable of being pushed down by waves and storms but always bobbing back to the surface. He could never be kept down.
It was her job to find a way to do so.
You’re his friend. He trusts you. You need nothing more than that to do what needs to be done.
She stood, none of the uncertainty or hesitation in her mind evinced in the slightest in either her face or her body language. “Mac,” she said, extending a hand. “Good of you to come.”
He shook it firmly. “Always happy to when you summon me, Admiral.”
“I hate to think of it as a summoning,” she said, gesturing for him to seat himself, “but instead simply a chance to catch up and confer with an old and valued ally.”
“I appreciate that.” Calhoun sat as she indicated he should do, smoothing the legs of his uniform trousers but never taking his purple eyes away from her. Yet despite the fact that his gaze was fixed upon her, she had no doubt that he was hyper-aware of the world around him. If someone came charging in through the door, hoping to get the drop on Calhoun, they would find themselves eating phaser before they had taken two steps into the office.
Nechayev took her seat as well. “I assume you know what this is in regards to.”
“Well, I would imagine you didn’t have the Excalibur divert to Earth just because you felt a deep need to inquire after my health. I assume this has something to do with the Brethren and the D’myurj.”
“Partly.”
“Partly?” One eyebrow lifted slightly. “I would