Blink: Phantom (Book 3)

09

"The man's name is Tannis Brock."

Amber narrowed her eyes, staring hard at the menacing figure on the screen. It hadn't taken long for the efficient technicians at Blink to uncover the identity of the man on the recording. Now on the main display a full dossier on him was revealed, and it had a frightening level of detail. Despite the progress they had made, she did not like what she saw.

The picture on the screen gave a much clearer image of their new target – his square-jawed face was rugged and scarred, with dark stubble covering the lower half. Even with a shot of just his head and shoulders, his heavy build was obvious, and thick muscles were visible through the coat he wore. The man's expression was one of grim loathing, glaring out through the screen at them.

"For six years he was one of the Colonial military's most valuable assets," Smith continued. "He served in the armoured infantry on Dailo Prime, taking part in military actions across a dozen systems until he was promoted to the rank of captain. From there was recruited into the military's Ghost Cadre."

"Are you kidding me?" Niamh exploded, sitting bolt upright in her seat. "This guy was a Ghost?!"

Smith gave her a grim nod. "I'm afraid so."

"Wait," Amber interjected. "What's the Ghost Cadre?" She'd never heard the name before, and the faces of her squad mates told her that whatever it was, the Cadre was bad news. She knew that the tree of the colonial military had a lot of branches – she also knew everything about most of them. Even being with Blink, however, hadn't opened her up to this new threat.

"It's a full deniability wetwork institute," Darien explained quietly, staring at the screen with his hand clenched into a tight fist. "The Ghost Cadre – they're the cleaners of the galaxy. If the colonial powers want somebody dead without complications, they send in a Ghost."

Amber swallowed hard at that. She glanced up at the image and then to her right where Hekket sat. He looked just as shaken by the revelation as she was and gave a slow shake of his head. She didn't know what she'd been expecting when they figured out the man's identity, but it hadn't been this.

Idas let out a derisive snort. "Fantastic. So you're saying we're on the hunt for an assassin?"

"Former assassin," Smith corrected. "Ten months ago Brock was discharged from the Ghost Cadre – I was not privy as to why. After that he simply dropped off the grid. I assumed the Ghosts had a way to keep an eye on him, but it seems I was mistaken. It would appear that one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy has decided to become a mercenary."

"Well, whoever he is," Amber said. "Whatever he is, he's just doing the leg work. He is not the one running this operation."

"Quite," Smith agreed. "But he knows who is. All the information we have on him has been red-flagged and circulated to every satellite station and law enforcement body in colonial space. If Brock sets foot on a planet, we'll know about it. If that happens, our task then is to catch him."

"Catch a Ghost," Niamh laughed bitterly. "You expect us to bring this guy in? We're not trained for that!"

"Nobody is," Uther agreed, making a dismissive gesture with one hand. "Call the Ghost Cadre. He's one of theirs. Let them clean up the mess."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the assembled operatives and Amber was right there with them. They all had combat training, but for self-defence against the rank-and-file. Even the best team on the station, hardened by hellish missions that other operatives spoke of in gossiping whispers, was not prepared to take on a professional killer.