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She slipped in.
The Colonel’s CSV was impressive. He had survived three battles with the Covenant. Early in the war,he received a promotion and volunteered for a dozen black ops. For the last few years, however, hisefforts had focused on political maneuvers rather than battlefield tactics. He had filed several requests
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for increased funding for his Special Warfare projects.
No wonder he wanted the Master Chief gone. The Spartan IIs and MJOLNIR were his directcompetition. Worse, they were succeeding where he failed.
At best, Ackerson’s actions were treason. But Cortana wasn’t about to reveal all this to the ONIoversight committee. Despite the Colonel’s methods, the UNSC still needed him—and his SpecWarspecialists—in the war.
Justice, however, would still be meted out.
From the ONI database, she masqueraded as a routine credit check and entered the Colonel’s bankaccount—to which she wired a substantial amount to a brothel on Gilgamesh. She made sure the bankqueries sent to confirm the transaction were copied to his home immediately. Colonel Ackerson was amarried man . . . and his wife should be there to receive them.
She cut into his personal E-mail and sent a carefully crafted message—requesting reassignment to aforward area—to personnel. Finally, she inserted a “ghost” record, an electronic footprint that identifiedthe source of the alterations: Ackerson’s personal-computer pad.
By the time Ackerson was done untangling all of that, he’d be reassigned to field duty . . . and get backto fighting the Covenant where he belonged.
With all loose ends neatly tied up, Cortana rechecked thePillar of Autumn ’s reactor; the shakedown wasproceeding nicely. She tweaked the magnetic-field strength, and part of her watched the output from theengines for fluctuations. She inspected all weapons systems three times, and then went back to her ownpersonal research.
She considered how well the Master Chief had performed this morning on the obstacle course. He wasmore than Cortana could have hoped for. The Master Chief was much more than Dr. Halsey or the pressreleases had indicated.
He was intelligent . . . not fearless, but as close to it as any human she had encountered. His reactiontime under stress was one-sixth the standard human norm. More than that, however, Cortana had sensedthat he had a certain—she searched her lexicon for the proper word—nobility. He placed his mission andhis duty and honor above his personal safety.
She reexamined his Career Service Vitae. He had fought in 207 ground engagements against theCovenant, and been awarded every major service medal except the Prisoner of War Medallion.
There were holes in his CSV, though. The standard black-out sections courtesy of ONI, of course . . . butmost curious, all data before he entered active duty had been expunged.
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Cortana wasn’t about to let a mere erasure stop her. She traced where the order to erase that data hadoriginated. Section Three. Dr. Halsey’s group. Curious.