Baltic Gambit: A Novel of the Vampire Earth

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physical note of something that was classified. I did some quiet checking, and it appears that no one is aware of this little fact. It seems a little vague to make a big deal about it with the conference people, but if I can open a line of communication to the Baltic League I’ll tip their security people that their conference might be penetrated. I also need to send a copy of the evidence by courier, and I was hoping you’d take the trip, since you found it.”
    “To the Baltic? I wouldn’t begin to know how to get there. I’d have to read a map to even find it.”
    “Oh, no, I wouldn’t expect you to get there on your own. The Kentucky delegation consists of exactly one representative tagging along with Southern Command. Since the invite allows up to five, we thought we could add you on for the trip. You’d be a passenger the whole way.”
    “Not interested,” she said.
    “Might make a nice break. Really, you just have to have a quiet word with the head of security at the conference, show the evidence, and you’re done. You can enjoy yourself the rest of the time.”
    “Send some kid on the errand. Send Clay—he deserves a treat after running his ass off. Some vodka and a bedspring bounce with a Swedish gal sounds about right.”
    “Val’s been in to see me a couple of times, Smoke,” Lambert said. Usually only fellow Cats would call her by her old code name, but Lambert had been her CO back when they both were on the other side of the Mississippi and Lambert was overseeing special operations outside of the usual Southern Command areas. Duvalier decided shewas using it here to make the conversation less formal, old soldier to old soldier. “About you.”
    Now, why would she name Valentine? Strange for such a squared-away officer. She wasn’t surprised that Valentine had been quietly nudging the colonel about her, but why give him away? To irritate her into something? Did she know she was touching a sore but private spot? “Asking permission for my hand in marriage?”
    Lambert looked puzzled at the jibe. “No. Actually, he’s worried about your health. He thinks you need a long rest.”
    Always thinks he knows me better than anyone. “Don’t we all?” Duvalier said.
    “I can’t exactly order you to stand down. Cats aren’t like Wolves and Bears—you’re neither fish nor fowl, not combat or support. I’m specifically required to aid you logistically and with combat support at discretion, so you’ve got the upper hand with me. By the book, as the Fort Commander I can order you to keep out of certain buildings, or turn in your weapons, or see the doctor, or keep off the friggin’ grass. As Zone Commander, Southern Command, I can ask a Cat to do something, and if I really press my authority, I can issue a written set of orders limiting your interaction with the locals or sending you packing out of the Kentucky area of operations entirely. I can court-martial you for a crime. What I can’t do is order you to put your feet up for a couple of weeks. Only a doctor can do that. I think.”
    Duvalier was a little shocked. That last sentence indicated Lambert was unsure about some element of regulations.
    “I’d say Major Valentine needs the rest more than I do,” she said. “He does three or four ops for every time I go out.”
    “Those are mostly patrols and training runs. You put in serious time in the KZ. You’re due for a vacation from all that.”
    “Still, he looks ragged as hell lately. He’s been killing himself getting everyone organized. No one’s ever tried to integrate Grogs and Bear teams before. It’s not working real well. I can’t decide if it’ll be a heart attack or a nervous breakdown.”
    Lambert smiled. “You exaggerated. I’m a pretty good judge of human machinery and, without the hyperbole, I’m of a like opinion. I’m going to see if I can’t get both of you away from the bullets for a while. You both deserve a holiday.” She reached out and patted Duvalier on

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