When Diplomacy Fails…

CHAPTER 21

Alex woke as Elke returned, carrying a canvas bag. He’d had twenty minutes of nap. It would have to do. It was probably a good thing. His spine didn’t like cots. He rolled off gingerly and stood.

She said, “I have a basic, reliable Road Cruiser.”

“Not bad. How did you get that?”

“I found an ad for a widow needing to sell property for living expenses. I was able to play the pity card and didn’t haggle over price, and also bought two pairs of work boots and some shirts. They may be a bit large for the ladies, but should make it easier to travel.” She tumbled them out of the bag. The boots were spattered with paint and grease, well broken in and wearing cracks. The shirts were sweat-stained and distressed.

Highland wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Those cannot be sanitary,” she said.

“We have disinfectant spray.”

JessieM slipped her shoes off, waited for Shaman to spray a pair, and slipped them on. Her expression was a neutral mask. She didn’t like this, but wasn’t going to complain. She pulled a khaki shirt over her blouse and became much less noticeable, even here.

Highland wasn’t disposed to argue. She shook her head and shrugged, and followed suit.

“What’s that?” Aramis asked, and pointed. It was a small wooden carving of a penguin.

“She graciously included that as a gift for my son.”

“Son?”

“She assumed I had offspring and I saw no point in correcting her, for either time constraints or camouflage.”

“Very good. It’s a cute figure.”

“He’s our mascot for now. The Evil Penguin.”

Shaman said, “Jessie, carry the penguin.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

What was that about?

Alex asked, “Does anyone have a reason to remain here?”

There were negatives all around.

“Then let’s take the valuables and the gear and vacate. Jason, Aramis, what do we have?”

Aramis said, “We have a choice of nice hotel, flophouse, apartment or rental. There’s a poor working neighborhood I’ve identified where no one will question us. We can pretend to be three married couples and three singles, though Bart’s size is a bit distinctive. Local garb will help.”

“Demographic?”

“Primitive Christian. Hats, scarves, coats. Women don’t normally wear pants, but jobs can require it.”

Highland said, “Agent Sykora refuses to wear a scarf.”

“I will not wear one for political purposes. I have no objection to wearing camouflage.”

Highland’s jaw clenched. Alex figured Elke was really enjoying herself, now that she had explosive, someone to taunt, and the rule book sailing through the air.

He said, “That sounds like our neighborhood. Do we have a reservation?”

“No. We’ll need to sneak, peek and drop.”

“Is anyone good with the appropriate scripture for this subculture?”

“I am,” Shaman said, “though I may stand out. The African emigres were few.”

Elke said, “I can do it. My family was nominally Lutheran. I’ll just stick to basic references and invoke Christ.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I feel no animosity to their faith. What some of the more insane have chosen to do with it is a separate issue.”

“True. The majority of them are still nice people. The whackos just make up for it in volume and violence.”

“I will go ahead, and take Aramis with me. We can pass as a couple.”

“They’ll probably expect me to talk,” he said.

“Yes, and you can be gruff, I’ll be pleasant.”

“We need to record that. No one will believe it.”

Elke said, “We must hope they do.”

They slipped out.

Quiet could be aggravating. No one was shooting at them, there were no rioters, things were quite calm. That left all kinds of time to fret over being found, or Elke and Aramis being traced, a sudden missile, anything.

Alex needed to discuss issues with Highland, but he wanted to wait until he had the whole team regrouped and they were ready to roll. In the meantime…

“Bart, keep an eye out to the east. Jason, you have south.” He kept his voice soft. Highland was actually dozing. Not only did that make her easier to deal with, she did need rest, and her health was their concern.

Eventually his phone beeped. It showed as Elke, and he opened voice.

“Coming in,” she said, and was gone. He pointed at the door while pulling capacitor and circuit again. They would need more backups for future use.

Aramis and Elke arrived moments later. Jason glanced down the hall, Bart closed the door behind them.

“We have space,” Aramis said. “A small strip condo.”

Alex asked, “How long do we plan to do this? We’re just relocating as we go.” At one level it made sense, at another, they’d be spinning wheels, wasting assets and risk being seen.

Aramis said, “Long enough for the news to settle down and see how it’s spun. Whoever gets blamed will indicate potential sources.”

Bart said, “We’ll get blamed.”

Alex grinned. “Of course, but on whose behalf?”

“Good point.”

“So let’s share coordinates, address, the works.” He docked his phone to Aramis’s and snagged the data.

After sharing the info around, Alex turned to Highland to try again.

“Ma’am, I… we need to discuss the threat status and be sure we’re in agreement on the best course of action. We are temporarily, and I stress temporarily, safe here, but we are at risk if we are identified, and need to work around that.”

“I actually get a choice?” she asked. “I rather thought I was a prisoner of my own security.”

“It was necessary to vacate the area fast against potential threats. If you so order, we will go where you wish, but it will be recorded and noted so as to cover us. It’s one of the ironies of this business that we’ll catch bullets for you, but we will not enable you to get shot yourself.”

“Very well. What leads you to believe there’s an immediate threat?”

“Other than a grenade and someone trying to crush you under an armored vehicle?” he asked. He didn’t think she was that clueless, but she might be that convinced of her own credibility.

“Look, the SecGen has been so completely clueless even his own party, your party, doesn’t want him. How often do they allow a caucus before a sitting SecGen steps down? But, if he can orchestrate your death, he’ll eliminate the main contender in his own party, and play the other four for sympathy. He only needs a plurality to pull a runoff and eliminate the Randites. They’re certainly not going to vote for the Neo-Stalinists in the next round. The Neo-Stalinists are not going to vote Islamic Conservative. They’re not going to vote Liberal-Labour. The tertiary parties don’t count at all. That means the Equality Party wins, meaning him.”

Jason stepped in to help.

“If she runs, what happens?”

He looked back at her as he said, “Polls are split on you winning, bad for him, or you losing to Liberal-Labour, worse for him. Also worse for the party as a whole. They could play this the other way, too, and have him iced. Except that he’s much harder to hit with the Special Service around him, and that would look suspicious. You being here lets them blame some faction or other, like Celadon only moreso, then come in and stomp as they wish. They then have territory they can parcel out to supporters as concessions.”

Bart said, “They can also give us as a company bad press.”

“That, and I wouldn’t put it past any of several of them to want us personally dead after saving President Bishwanath. They put together a scam on that, and we gutshot it.”

Highland said, “That fits. We’re a hundred and eighty-three days out.”

“Yes?”

“I’m over thirty percent. At thirty-two and one eighty, I can call for Special Service protection details.”

“Oh, shit. How the fuck did we miss that?” Really, that was…

Jason said, “That was it! I heard the conversation and it didn’t click.”

Aramis said, “Hell, that’s easy. We stay hidden for three days, then call ahead and hand her off.”

“As long as she has the percentage.”

“We can fix that,” he said confidently. Son of a bitch, they were about to help with narcissistic cunt win the election.

“How?” she asked.

“First, escape, evade and hide.”

“But where? We can’t get off planet.”

“We have before.”

Jason said, “Ms. Highland has an emergency transponder chip. They’ll only find it here with a tight directional scan, but any port will show it.”

“It’s deep, too,” she said. “When I had my gall bladder worked on, it was set then.”

And at that moment, her expression changed, to that of a person who knew she was being hunted to death, regarded as a trophy and convenience, and who’d been completely betrayed.

Elke felt the tickle run up her spine, and kept her smirk hidden behind sleeve and glasses. That was the intangible she wanted out of this, and it was very sweet.

Shaman said, “I would be reluctant to go digging, without a modern clinic.”

Jason said, “Which we’re not going to have access to.”

“How long can we lie low?” Bart asked?

Alex said, “If we can’t pull this off, it would have to be until after the election. At that point, they’ll shrug and look embarrassed, accuse us of paranoia and kidnapping, and wait for it to fade in the loads.”

Highland said, “I am not missing the election!”

Jason looked at her. “Nor are we going to be accused of kidnapping, again.”

She didn’t even look sheepish. The woman was an uncaring sociopath. Elke might be herself, but at least her suggestions were practical.

Aramis said, “I don’t see what other options we have. Delay, escape, or fight are the three courses.”

“Well, I guess we fight,” Jason said. “We stir up enough noise, they have to see us, see the threat against Ms. Highland, then they either give her the protection as her due, or take it from us and make the same jokes about us everyone does, pay our fee, and she’s alive, mission accomplished. We’re Ripple Creek’s best team, and we don’t care about cover stories, or looking good in the press.”

Shaman said, “We’ll be outnumbered.”

“Likely not. I expect the unofficial government agents on planet are under ten, possibly as few as two.”

“Based on?”

Elke said, “Based on what we both know about BuIntel paramilitary teams. We’ve both considered applying.”

Aramis said, “Paramils?”

Jason said, “Who do you think snatched you, knew enough to keep you alive, and had locals do the dirty work so there was no connection? That was meant to deliberately scare us into either leaving, doing something foolish, or embarrassing Ms. Highland enough we got dropped. Now that the lethal force is out, we had a very well-thrown grenade, using primitive tactics, and someone able to steal an armored vehicle and get it to our location. Even with foreknowledge, that’s an expert.”

“Shit,” Aramis said. “Yeah, that makes sense, but… aren’t all those guys former Recon?”

“Or before it was Recon,” Jason said. “Spetznaz, SAS, Kopassus. All professionals, with extra training.”

“What do we do about them?”

Alex said, “We’d have to kill them. Ms. Highland?”

Slowly, she said, “If they ally against the government, which is me, then they’re enemies.” At least moral decisions were easy for her, as long as they benefited her.

“Elke?”

“I could use the practice.” This would mean some nice overpressure.

Bart said, “We can get allies too.”

Aramis said, “We could get dead, too, though that or mindwiping seem to be the choices.”

“We’ve faced that before.”

“So, you’re seriously proposing attacking the paramilitary arm of BuInt?” He looked shaken, but then, he had been captured by the bastards and tortured. She’d have to add in a factor for that, when she built her charges.

“I don’t see what choice we have.”

“Alex, we’re good. We’re really good. But jokes about ‘we might be the best’ aside, those skullbangers are the wrath of the gods themselves.”

“They’re also few in number, don’t want to be discovered, and aren’t likely to risk their lives for a campaign.”

“Possibly. It’s not like we can call a truce and ask them, though.”

“We can maneuver around them and hint, and let them tell us how they’re playing it.”

Highland cut in with, “Are you discussing abandoning me?”

Elke got another thrill. The woman knew she could be a bargaining chip, or just ballast in a sack.

With that score, Elke decided she needed one of Jason’s cigars, and a bottle of eiswein.

Jason said, “Not at all, ma’am. We’ve never done so and won’t start now. We are discussing, however, the best way to keep everyone alive. I think in this case, we have an extra asset.”

“Yes?”

“JessieM can misdirect for us.”

Elke looked at her and said, “I opened a new churp for you. It won’t stay open long unless your followers can secure a pipe and mirror it.”

“They can! And they will!”

“Assume someone will try to hack as soon as you make your first churp.”

She nodded. “What do I need to say, then?”

Aramis said, “Keep it simple. Your communications are compromised and you need your followers to hold the channel and relay. You won’t be able to churp often, they need to be alert. Ms. Highland is battling subversive elements. They’ll want to hear that. Leave it there, pull the card for Elke to secure, and after that you’ll be sending leading messages to get people where we want them.”

“What are you going to do then?”

“Kill them by the fucking thousands.”

Jessie whimpered.

Aramis grinned.

“These fuckers dismembered me, tried to kill you, tried to kill my friends. They need to be taught not to do that. Then, there’s this thing about killing Ms. Highland, who is under our protection. That’s a professional issue, and it’s also a Marketing issue. If you screw with Ripple Creek, we will turn you into a goo sack.”

“Ready, then, Aramis?”

“Yes.” He looked much more himself, now that he had an enemy to aim at. That was all he’d needed, Elke realized.

“Lead the way. Elke, you drive.”

They loaded the car as they’d unloaded, in three groups. Aramis went with Elke. Highland went with Bart, overwatched by Jason, and boarded at the next corner. Shaman took Jessie down. Alex and Jason went last, locking and securing as they went. It was unlikely they’d return to this apartment during this mission, but if they could recover supplies afterward they would. In the meantime, even a poor safehouse was better than none.

They moved quickly and quietly, each carrying a basic box, bag or case with supplies. They had field rations, bottled water, lots of ammo, basic weapons and two big support weapons. It didn’t seem like enough to start a battle with, much less win one.

That’s why Elke had her toys ready.

Shaman was already curbside, climbing into the van in the cool morning air. Elke checked conditions. It should remain dry.

There was a momentary but tense mixup, since Highland had to be in the middle for best protection and bailout. She was flanked by Bart and Jason. Aramis and Elke were up front. That left Alex and Shaman to squeeze into a rear already stuffed with gear.

Elke pulled smoothly into traffic, got onto the thoroughfare, crossed one major intersection and turned into another quiet area.

“Aramis and I are to be seen as a couple. Jason, switch with me and drive. Aramis has directions.”

“Understood.”

They got out, walked rather than ran, and were still back inside in under three seconds. Jason pulled out faster than Elke had, and nodded as Aramis pointed.

“You will come back here afterward,” she said and pointed. “At the house, we can all load stuff inside, then most of you will leave with the van, and return with a load of furniture.”

“Perfect.”

“That’s very clever,” Highland said.

Alex said, “Thank you. We’ve had a lot of practice at evasion.”

“I can see where a lot of incidental expenses go.”

“Yes. We’re more flexible than official agencies. That costs money at times.”

Bart and Shaman remained because to their distinctive appearances. Alex stayed with the principal. The rest went out to get furniture. They chattered a bit as they left, to keep attention on themselves.

Bart moved quickly, placing blinds and curtains. Alex laid out weapons and ammo where they could be reached in a hurry, in several locations. Any intrusion would mean a retreat to the hard center of the domicile, and hopefully Elke would be on hand at that point, to dissuade people.

Highland actually sat quietly. She fidgeted and twitched, but didn’t interfere. Nor did she offer to help.

When the “movers” returned, they also brought food. Jason took a box into the kitchen and started tossing stuff onto the counter.

“We have fresh ingredients. Salad and fruit and sauteed beef to follow.”

To Highland’s glance, Alex said, “Jason believes he’s the best cook here. He believes that because he’s demonstrated it repeatedly. We just help with cleanup and perimeter security while he does.”

In three clunky trips, furniture came through the door and was set to barricade and cordon the rear and one of the windows. Out of the drawers came clothes, weapons, ammo and assorted supplies. That done, Jason went back to the kitchen.

Shortly, he came out with bowls of salad, two at a time. It was an interesting dish, Alex thought. Romaine hearts supported wedges of tomato and apple, and were surrounded by cucumber, goat cheese, chicken and scallions. Fat olives stuffed with garlic, and pepperoncinis garnished it, under grated ginger, ground pepper and a drizzle of oil and vinegar.

Alex wasn’t a salad person, but it was refreshing, especially after field rats and the scavenged canned stuff they’d had the last day.

By the time he’d finished, Jason had placed a thick roll of pita in front of him stuffed with sauteed shaved paper-thin sirloin with mushrooms, onions and slivered almonds. There were eight liters of raspberry juice to sluice it down with.

“Ah, that’s good. I’m ready to sleep or fight. What’s our status?”

Shaman said, “Ms. Highland is reported kidnapped, speculation pointing at us or some ‘right wing faction.’ There’s lots of human interest stories by her supporters.” He turned to face her. “So, ma’am, your popularity is benefiting from this.”

“Excellent,” she said. “I’m glad their plot is working against them.”

Alex said, “Unfortunately, it makes it more worthwhile for them to find a way to eliminate you and blame either us or some faction. As we’ve been portrayed as several kinds of puppy-abusing sociopath, if they can hit you, they can blame us. Our lawyers can probably save us, at a cost of tens of millions, but you’d still be dead. By then, of course, it will no longer be news and no one will care.”

Highland looked shocked, and attentive. She finally seemed to be grasping her actual place in things, far below the lofty station she’d assigned herself. She wanted to be SecGen, but that carried a huge tag in risk and outlay. She probably had the outlay. She had to pay the risk.

Next to him, Elke sighed slightly. It sounded creepily sexual. She must be thinking of explosive again.

Highland almost shivered.

“I hadn’t expected this level of treachery. I’m loyal to the party. I’d hoped they’d be loyal to me.”

Given her own backstabbing tendencies to anyone and everyone in her path, it hardly seemed surprising she’d be regarded as a threat. No doubt she thought her own goals those of the party, and they might even intersect, but she wasn’t the Equality Party Committee. They’d probably even tried polite measures, and found her oblivious.

Well, people had tried to kill them before. Though usually, not multiple professional and freelance factions combined.

Alex didn’t think he was going to rest well.

Shaman continued, “The search continues for Minister Highland. All the latest gear is being used, and it is hoped her biometrics or personal gear will be traced soon.”

Alex felt a shiver.

“Can we do anything about that transponder?” he asked. “Lead vest, Faraday cage?”

Jason said, “We can make a mesh vest easily enough, for her to wear under her coat. It won’t be a hundred percent, but it will certainly help. I don’t think we have time to figure out how to spoof it.”

“Do it. Even if it only reduces detectable range.”

Elke said, “I’m going to reconfigure some charges as well. I’ll do her vest first.”

“Ms. Highland, you need to try to rest. So do you, Jessie. Everyone else on shift rotations.”

He was going to enforce it, too, even on himself. They were all wired, tense and determined to hardball it, but they needed rest or they’d be ineffective.

Jason looked at him, and said, “You first. I’m up.”

He nodded. Jason’s schedule was all messed up with having a different clock at home than Earth, and that different from here. There was some sense to the military staying on Earth’s clock. Unfortunately, they couldn’t.

He sprawled in the corner on a pile of crushed boxes. They were reasonably comfortable, he placed his carbine over his lap, and closed his eyes.