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had to at least stay the course. Besides, they would make their own luck. It was how he’d risen to the position he now held and how he’d managed to stay alive as long as he had.
    It was time to apply that to their mission.
    “Federov, contact our operatives on Fuercon, specifically in the capital. They are to work their contacts and get us all the information they can about what FleetCom is planning. Moreau is to understand that she will be terminated if she fails us again. Make an example of someone she’s been working with, someone she assumes we don’t know about. She’s a good operative but she’s gotten sloppy this mission.
    “Boniface, tell our allies that they are to keep the pressure on. Phase Two is to begin just as soon as possible.”
    “Understood,” the admiral assured him.
    “Then, gentlemen, to success.” Watchman raised his glass in a toast.
    “Success!”
    Federov and Boniface repeated and downed their drinks. If they also said a quick prayer for protection, that was fine with Watchman. He didn’t care if they were scared as long as they did their jobs. Besides, he knew something they didn’t. Halstrom’s Landing had already been attacked. The Callusians were doing exactly what he wanted. All he had to do was make sure Fuercon didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.
    *     *     *
    The sound of ice cubes clinking against the sides of the crystal high ball glass broke the silence of the apartment. Frowning, not remembering draining the whiskey, Evan Moreau walked across the thick carpet to the bar and reached for the matching crystal decanter. She shouldn’t have a second drink. Or was it the third? Whatever, she didn’t care. Just then, she needed the whiskey even more than she needed to be clear-headed. After all, she had more than an hour before her next appointment . That was more than enough time to have another drink and still pop the necessary pills to counteract the effects of the alcohol.
    Unfortunately, an hour wasn’t enough to figure out how to deal with what was bothering her. She wasn’t sure there was enough time in the world to deal with her concerns. All her carefully laid plans seemed to be unravelling. Damn it, she’d known when she first accepted this mission that it was rife with risk. That had been part of its appeal. The other part had been the opportunity to strike back at not only Ashlyn Shaw and her family but at so many of those who had denied her her due. But now, one by one, those she’d had to use in order to carry out her mission were being swept up by either local security or FleetCom. Sooner or later one of them would talk in an attempt to save their own skin. Even though she’d taken precautions to make sure nothing could lead back to her, no plan was foolproof. That meant she had to take precautions, not only to protect herself but to make sure her mission was successfully concluded. If she failed to do the latter, nothing would keep her safe in the long run. Her employers were notorious for their swift and very permanent solutions for those who failed them.
    Damn it! She was so close to completing the mission. It wasn’t her fault that the idiot mercs she’d hired to run the attack on the capital had failed miserably. Not only had they failed to take out their targets, they’d managed to let FleetCom recover several of their fighters. The only good thing that happened was that none of the mercs themselves had survived. Most had been killed in the fighting. Others had died “as a result of their injuries.” She had made sure her contact would never be able to broker another deal. So far, his body had yet to be found and, unless she’d lost her touch, it never would be.
    Not that it had satisfied her employers. Fortunately, not only were they on another planet, there was also a vast expanse of space between them. She’d not hesitated one moment to point out in her report on the attack that she’d used people they had