Shae remembered as if it were yesterday the moment she’d seen the collapsed building and the sight of so many dead bodies, knowing her husband and her brother were under the rubble. Her voice was entirely calm, a mask over her rage. “Instead of sharing this information, the Espenian military allowed the Janloon bombing to occur and for hundreds of people to die. If the attack had succeeded in destroying the clans, the ROE was prepared to step into the power vacuum and exert proxy control over Kekon. By not tipping its hand, ROE agents were able to capture an enemy operative named Vastik eya Molovni, who yielded a trove of information about Ygutan’s nekolva program.”
Ambassador Lonard’s reply was bluntly dismissive. “I’ve heard all this unsubstantiated conjecture before.”
“It’s not unsubstantiated,” Shae said. “It’s taken years, but my people have gathered enough firsthand accounts to paint a full picture of what actually happened—including evidence that places Vastik eya Molovni in Janloon on the day of the bombing and an eyewitness report of him being captured by the ROE.” She gazed steadily at the two Espenian officials. “How many more protestors would be on Euman Island right now, if they knew the Espenian government allowed, even hoped for, the Janloon bombing? That our supposed allies seized the man who was responsible for the attack and secretly used him for their own purposes, denying justice to the Kekonese people?”
Colonel Basso sputtered for a second before leveling an affronted glare. “The Espenian military has protected your country for decades. The number of lives tragically lost in the bombing was small compared to the many that were saved by intelligence gathered on the Ygutanian threat.”
“Of course, Espenian lives have always been worth far more to you than Kekonese ones,” Shae said. “But as the ambassador pointed out, attitudes have shifted over the years. Premier Waltor’s political rivals have been questioning his track record during the Slow War. He was deputy premier at the time of the Janloon bombing, and he later played a key role in the creation of the Lybon Act. He might not want to be associated with so many dead civilians while campaigning during this election year. Nor would he appreciate scrutiny into Agent M not being a defector at all. Torture and pharmaceutical interrogation of captured prisoners of war are both outlawed by international conventions signed by the ROE.”
The polished pleasantry had left Ambassador Lonard’s manner. Her thin nostrils flared with vexation, and there was doubt and rapid calculation in her eyes. Nevertheless, she responded with a defiant lack of concern. “All of your accusations are related to events that happened over a decade ago. Yes, if you were determined to create a public stink about them, you could do so. It would damage relations between our countries’ governments, but the Espenian voter is not going to care about—”
“Operation Firebreak,” said Niko.
Shae swung a look over her shoulder at her nephew’s unexpected lapse in decorum. Throughout the meeting thus far, he’d been a proper silent observer, but his outburst caused both of the Espenians to snap their gazes over to him in surprise.
“This is my nephew, Kaul Nikoyan.” Shae offered a belated introduction even as she hid her displeasure at his bewildering interruption and tried to make it seem deliberate. “He has something to add to the conversation.”
“Operation Firebreak,” Niko repeated, speaking in uneven but passable Espenian. “That’s not old news. Maybe it could cause a public stink, as you say, that would be more interesting to Espenians.”
Colonel Basso nearly rose from his chair. “What do you know about—”
Niko stared back at the large Espenian military officer with an expression that Shae found disquieting. Niko’s face resembled Lan’s, but his stare was like Hilo’s.
“Kekonese Green Bones were hired as contractors to help fight in Espenia’s wars. I was one of them. And I know others.”
After four years, Shae still regularly wished for her jade. She felt strange whenever someone mistakenly addressed her as “Kaul-jen,” but even stranger when they said, “Ms. Kaul.” She often woke up with the vaguely panicked feeling that she was missing something vital, and sometimes she still reached for her jade abilities instinctively only to grasp at nothing, like trying to move a phantom limb. Most of all, at moments like these, she wished she still possessed the advantage of Perception. The foreigners were making no further pretense at this being a friendly conversation. Their expressions were uneasy and deeply guarded. Niko gazed back at them without saying anything more.