Free Tiger by the Tail by John Ringo, Ryan Sear

Vanner’s read of the woman’s story, and the Marine gave him a thumbs-up.
    “All right, we’re going to keep you with us for the next few days. You’ll be in a cabin, but be under guard the entire time, so don’t try anything stupid, or else what these guys’ll do to you will make all this seem like child’s play.”
    Mike was mostly bluffing—as far as he knew, the Keldara didn’t go in much for torture. Vil and Danes, however, were both very solid, muscular examples of the Keldara male, and looked menacing enough that he was pretty sure she wouldn’t try anything.
    “Take her below and let her get cleaned up.” The two warriors escorted the staggering woman below deck, half-supporting her with one hand on each arm.
    “You’re sure that stress detector program is on the level?” Mike asked.
    “Well, there’s a plus or minus three percent variance,” Vanner said with a shrug. “But overall, it’s been right ninety plus percent of the time.”
    “Even on non-English speakers?”
    “I’ve been testing it on the Keldara over the past few weeks,” Vanner said. “The guys are pretty bad at lying—they show up right away. The girls, of course, are much more skilled, and Katya is damn near an artist. Whatever Jay has been teaching her, it’s working.”
    “That’s a scary thought,” Mike mused. “What’s that saying about the female of the species being more deadly than the male?”
    “Ah, Kipling. Well, I don’t know about more deadly, but certainly more skilled at deception. Although, so is Jay, so it’s not clear it is gender-based.”
    Mike thought of the sociopathic rage Katya concealed under her beautiful face, just waiting to strike at the right target with her deadly fingernails. He thought of Creata calmly standing over the dead Armenian, a smoking pistol in her hand. He thought about the rumor he had heard of one of the Mothers during the battle against the Chechens, and what she had done with an enemy soldier’s heart. He had never learned whether there was any truth to that rumor, mainly because he never wanted to know if it was true.
    “Don’t ever underestimate a woman, Keldara or otherwise, on her lethalness—trust me, you’ll lose every time.”
    “I am married to Greznya, sir,” Vanner replied.
    “Point,” Mike said. His radio beeped. “Mal, this is Locki. I have opened the box.”
    Mike exchanged a glance with Vanner.
    “I thought she said it would take some time.”
    His intel chief shrugged. “I’ve found that when Creata puts her mind to something, she’s a lot like Scotty on Star Trek —always under-promising and over-delivering.”
    * * *
    A minute later, they both stood in one of the first level salons. Adams and Creata were also there, gathered around the box.
    “I thought you said that opening the box might be tough, Creata?” Mike asked.
    “I thought so, too. But once I understood the basic concept, it went faster than I’d expected. There are no other secondary locks or traps involved.” She stepped back. “As a prize of battle, the honor of opening it is yours, Kildar.”
    “Thanks, I think.” Visions of poison gas or a simple explosive booby trap went through his mind, but Mike reached for the lid and lifted it.
    The box was cleverly hinged along the back, with the seam between the top and bottom hidden underneath a ridge of metal, which was why it had escaped detection. The inside was completely filled with a single piece of dark gray packing foam. Mike reached for it and removed it, revealing—
    “Computer boards?” he looked up at Vanner. “ This is their treasure?”
    Vanner leaned down to examine them, then looked up at the Kildar.
    “If these are what I think they are, they’re just about priceless. We need to set up a Skype call with Doctor Arensky.”

CHAPTER FIVE

    As days go , Colonel Bob Pierson thought, I’ve had worse.
    The Office of Special Operations Liaison, or OSOL, handled all sensitive special operations outside the