Star Trek Into Darkness Page 0,21

officer who confessed to carrying out this attack, and that he was being forced to do it by this man.

“Commander John Harrison,” Marcus continued as the image of the individual in question appeared on each screen in front of the assembled officers. “And he was one of our own.” Plainly, the admiral was struggling to repress the full strength of his feelings. “He is the man responsible for this act of savagery. For reasons unknown, John Harrison has just declared a one-man war against Starfleet.”

This revelation prompted the expected murmurs of disbelief and uncertainty on the part of the assembled. There was nothing about the accused individual’s appearance to suggest hidden homicidal tendencies, a proclivity for mass destruction, or for that matter repressed madness. If anything, he looked ordinary, younger than his actual age, both his face and bearing competent but undistinguished.

Kirk studied the image intently: registering the man’s features, memorizing his physical details, intent on fixing in his mind a permanent image of who was ultimately responsible for the tragedy that had taken place in London. There was something about the aspect of this officer, though, something in his gaze that hinted at much more than a tendency to rebellion. Kirk couldn’t identify it, but it was there.

Automatically he glanced across the table at Spock. The science officer was likewise locking away the appearance of the disaster’s instigator for future reference, but otherwise the Vulcan betrayed no reaction.

A new image appeared before the assembled and now wholly absorbed group of officers. Kirk recognized it immediately as a still lifted from a security recording. Though taken from a distance, it had been magnified and enhanced so that the result looked as if it had been shot from an optimum angle. It showed the individual the admiral had identified as John Harrison in the process of entering a Starfleet jumpship. He carried no visible accoutrements other than a pair of duffel bags.

“Five minutes after the explosion in London, Harrison commandeered the jumpship that you see and made a run for it. Despite the confusion attendant upon the destruction, security was able to locate him only moments after his departure. We had him on our scanners until he entered orbit, then—”

“Any idea where he might be headed, sir?” inquired one of the assembled officers.

Marcus shook his head. “The natural assumption is that he’s not operating alone. You are all aware that there are numerous entities human and otherwise who would be delighted to see Starfleet’s operational capabilities impaired. Whether Harrison is doing this for reasons of his own or on behalf of as-yet-unknown forces, we have no way of knowing. Until individually eliminated, all possibilities must be considered. Bearing that in mind, under no circumstances are we to allow this man to escape Federation space.” Harrison’s image was now replaced by a dimensional map of the immediate stellar vicinity.

“You here tonight represent the senior command of all Starfleet vessels in the region, whether for R&R, refurbishment, or other reasons. As of now, your ships are recalled to full active duty. Those whose crews are presently aground will recall them immediately, and in the name of those we lost, you will run this bastard down. This is a manhunt, pure and simple, on a scale and of an importance unmatched in recent Starfleet history. So let’s get to work. Captain Ford, you’ll stand off and monitor Quadrant 11C. Captain Delcourt, Yorktown—you’ll take Quadrant 12D. Captain Evans, Vasquez—you’ll take . . .”

As Marcus continued doling out individual marching orders, Kirk examined the security still of the fleeing Harrison. The smaller but no less detailed image appeared directly in front of him, enigmatic and uninformative. Using the controls on the monitor in front of him, he was able to enhance it. His gaze traveled over specific sections of the image, seeking details that might not have been immediately apparent at first sight. Frowning, Kirk zoomed in further on the figure of Harrison, rotated it, turned it to and fro. What finally drew his attention was not the fleeing man, but the fact that he carried clean luggage that apparently had not been damaged in the extensive destruction. It suggested the two bags had been stored elsewhere. It also suggested forethought, preparation, and perhaps something more. He turned toward Pike.

“Wonder what’s in the bags?” he murmured speculatively. “Where’s he going?”

Pike quickly chided him. “Keep your mouth shut.”

If the younger man’s words escaped Marcus’s notice, those of his commanding officer did not. “Chris? Everything okay there?”

Within the