When Diplomacy Fails . . . (10 page)

Alex said, “Yeah. Sorry you’re getting caught up in it.”

She looked a bit wistful as she said, “It’s something we get from time to time even in modern societies. I expected trouble from the locals here if word got out. I had hoped our principal would be diplomatically savvy.”

“She is, and she sees a benefit back home, among her potential voters.”

Cady sighed. “Yes, the opposite of what works here. I could offer a comment on that.”

Alex said, “It’s been made.”

She nodded. “Well, I’ll do the best I can.”

“The locals know now, of course.”

“I understand.” She looked sad. This couldn’t be a new event, and had to be tiresome and irritating. “It doesn’t affect what I do, unless you’d like me to leave to preserve order.”

Yes, this had to be a tender subject for her.

“That’s very professional of you. No. Even if it would help, I’d say no. You’re not an interchangeable unit. You’re our best facilities expert. They’ll just have to deal with it.”

“So will I.”

“Yeah, that’s the part I don’t like.”

She shrugged. “As I said, it’s an old story. I’ll manage. Thanks for the update.”

“I think we both favor a free media,” he said. “I know there’s no real privacy. But some things shouldn’t be dug out and promoted. No one should care about our names, backgrounds, locations.”

“Except the enemy. We’re not allowed to say that, though.”

“There is no enemy. They’re just misunderstood. Anyway, that’s the brief, I’m back on duty.” He started for the door.

Cady said, “I have a standard statement I can give her if she asks. You know why I transitioned, yes?”

He halted. “I never asked. It’s not my business.”

“Well, we need to work together and it’s come up, so it’s your business now. Genetic irregularity. XXY chromosomes, and at puberty I seemed to lean more toward female both mentally and physiologically. So they finished with modern science what nature got half-assed.”

“Got it.”

Truth be told, he found it uncomfortable, even if it was a fairly straightforward process anymore. She did good work, though, and there was no reason for personal details to be public.

In her quarters and well away from any military or contractors, Highland let out a tight sigh and asked Jessie, “Okay, give me the bad news on the numbers.”

“Actually, it’s not bad.”

“Really?”

“It’s polling well. Large numbers of rural and wealthy urban demographics support it being a legitimate return of fire.”

Again, she said, “Really?”

“You lost eight percent of the lower income brackets, but gained twenty-three percent in the ones I mentioned, for a net gain, population adjusted, of three percent. That puts you back at thirty-one percent, and a credible threat to Cruk.”

“I haven’t heard anything good about Ripple Creek.”

“Oh, they’re widely hated. The bounce seems to be a perception of your strength.”

“Well, then I supposed I need to spin it that way. I’m strong, not afraid, and these manipulated attacks aren’t a credible threat. I can denounce the excessive violence.”

“That’s not very fair to our guards.”

“This isn’t fair. It’s a campaign.”

Elke paused the replay and looked around. This was a type of issue she didn’t understand.

Jason was angry. His reply was moderate. That was scary.

“Well, we expected to get bent over. It’s part of the job, and why we get paid so much. But she actually wants to use us not only as muscle, but to then decry our techniques, while sobbing about her compassion. That’s an election strategy?”

Aramis of all people looked very calm.

“Sadly, I think it will work. She can play good cop/bad cop, blame the SecGen for our presence, play the victim and compassion cards, promise vague, undefined ‘difference.’ ”

Elke asked, “How will the blame affect us?”

Alex said, “That is a good question. It can play out as more of the same, nobody cares. It could turn into nuisance suits that hurt the company. It could get very ugly with some kind of General Assembly investigation that has us being deposed, and charged with perjury for saying we had eggs for breakfast when the camera clearly shows turkey ham.”

“I could persuade her to be nice,” Bart said.

Alex looked around. “Are we positive we’re not being scanned? Aerospace Force was able to hack us quite well the first time.”

Elke said, “I am sure. I’m also not as worried about them as her.”

Jason nodded in agreement. “Yeah, though she may have friends, and they may decide the info is worth money.”

Aramis sat back and stared at the wall. “I guess we need to make sure Captain Das is on our side.”

“He seems like a good man,” Elke said.

Alex said, “I’ll draw some materials. Jason can you work out a polite trade, so he’s slightly beholden?”

“I can. No specific requests, just ‘we heard you needed this’?”

“Exactly. We have the Golden Cargotainer. We’re good people.”

Elke said, “I guess I’m unhappy protecting someone who will use us so hypocritically. It’s not that we’re enemies, nor that we’re conspirators. She means to play us as fools.”

Aramis said, “You’re unhappy because she thinks we’re that stupid.”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Jason said, “It’s common. You have to be something of a sociopath to get high in politics. You’ve seen it; she really has little compassion for anyone. It’s not that she’s mean. She’s just not capable of empathizing with anyone. That makes narcissism that much easier. It’s all about her, and she isn’t even cognizant of us.”

Shaman said, “It’s not entirely like that, from a medical perspective, but I will forgive your irregularities for the rough summary.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my terms are wrong. I’ll clarify: she’s a smug, self-centered bitch.”

“Spot on,” Shaman agreed.

Elke was learning from this, but it still wasn’t clear. “How do such people make way? Get ahead?”

Aramis smirked, but it wasn’t unkind. “They have lots of people along for the ride and the money and power, and others willing to back them for payoffs later.”

“It seems a precarious way to get ahead.”

“It is,” Jason said. “It always collapses eventually. Which is why we get paid to protect them meantime. Remember how they tried to set up Bishwanath?”

Alex said, “They’re being smarter this time. No deaths, just harassment. We can’t really respond, but we have to treat every threat seriously.”

“But they’re improving her visibility and popularity.”

Alex continued, “Could it be staged? Not by her, but by the party?”

“Possibly.”

Very serious now, he said, “We have to assume there’s some agency behind the nonlethal attacks. She admits to one. So, she set up the first one, but these could be either staged higher up, by some anonymous benefactor, or they could be legitimate protest by fucking idiots, or just harassment by someone wanting to embarrass her without risking actual jail.”

“Or trying to entice us into killing someone so they can hold it against her, or us. Or trying to entice us into killing someone so they have an excuse to start another revolution.”

Bart said, “It could be any of those. She fits profiles for celebrity, politician and important official.”

Aramis asked, “Should we not return fire?”

Elke said, “I would return fire. In case they are trying to lull us so they can attack.” She looked around at the others.

Alex said, “Yes. Our job is to protect her from threats. We do that, against every potential threat. Don’t use more force than you have to, so avoid the autocannon. But by all means return fire. If she wants to spin it for her bravery and risk-taking, we’ll allow it. That’s even semi-legit as long as she’s not orchestrating it herself. However, we need to find out what the strategy is. Shaman, research the history of this place for similar events. Elke, you get everything you can from her quarters. Spy on her however you have to. It’s for her own safety, and ours. I’ll get everything I can from Captain Das.”

Bart said, “He is not in BuState.”

“He’s not, but he probably has some good leads anyway.”

“I will get on it,” Elke said, though she wasn’t comfortable.

She did not deal well with most people, and had trouble with some cues. She knew that. This required determining how someone else would think, and that was uncomfortable. She also had no idea how it was done. It had taken two years to understand how most of the team thought. She’d been the last person to fit in, and still was very much outside them. If it weren’t for Jason, she might not have made it this far.

However, it seemed it was something she needed to learn. In the meantime, she had sensors and bugs to place.

Now there was the matter of several explosive devices she needed to inventory, adapt, or strip for material. She’d need more caps at once, more explosive shortly, but she had a few kilograms to get her started. It was obvious to her that Highland was using them as every kind of shield, decoy and prison bitch possible. Otherwise Elke wouldn’t be stealing what she needed.

At least the guns had ammunition. It likely hadn’t occurred to the
kurvě
that they’d actually shoot at threats without her say so. Truly, the woman had far too much regard for the capabilities of government.

At some point during this mission, that would become apparent. Elke looked forward to
that
facial expression. It was quite perverse on her part, but she was comfortable with it.

Aramis stretched as they broke up and fell to. There were weapons to clean, routes to plan, exercise to take, food, rest, itineraries. He had more maps to plot, gear dumps to arrange, and Jason might need help with weapons.

They moved around and funneled out the door back into the common room. He twitched as Elke brushed past. Had that been a grope?

She turned slightly on her way to her own room, and her face wore a smirk.

That was disturbing.

Aramis was still trembling from the earlier incident. He had no idea how close he’d come to brain wiping, but that had to have been skirting it. From now on, everyone got a half second consideration, and nonlethal fire first. He understood protecting the principal. He also understood not letting her use him as bait, a taunt or a campaign slogan. He had no reason to care that much for her. He’d save the firepower for the team’s safety. He would fire to protect his teammates, though.

It occurred to him the harassing attacks might be intended exactly as a confidence shaker for something bigger later. Or had they discussed that already?

Yes, he was shaken. Still, fire to save the team, and fuck the politicians.

That resolved in his mind, he went to see Jason. He found the man hunched over a sheet on the floor, working on weapons.

“Hey, Aramis, what do you need?”

He started with, “I want to make sure my carbine is as zeroed as you can get, and I want that scope set with all the bells and whistles. Show me what I need to know.”

“Can do. I have a few minutes before I can catch up with Captain Das, who is certainly going to know something is up with all the bribery, so I need to make the bribe bigger but practical and not ridiculous.”

“If you’re busy . . .”

“Nope, I need to think, and handling guns helps me think. Let’s do it.” He pulled Aramis’s carbine from the cabinet, and his own. He seemed to relax and calm down once he had a weapon in hand. That bothered a lot of people, but Aramis understood it. Much like Elke with her explosives, it gave him focus and control.

“Okay, you have frequency shift here, which can be done manually, or through the slide on your combat goggles. UV for smoke, IR for night, or thermal. Punch up the IR here to at least eight, given this wimpy star. In my system you’d dial down to three.”

“Got it.”

“You boresight here, and put a dot on the wall there, that’s why I have that mark.”

“It’s a centimeter high.”

“So it’ll be smack on at a hundred meters.”

“Yes.”

“How’s the grip?”

“Comfortable. I’d like more butt weight.”

“Here,” Jason said, took the weapon, and attached a small tube that held an extra capacitance pack for the optics. He handed it back.

“Yeah, that does it, and gives me a second spare.”

“You’ll never need it, but someone else might.”

“Excellent. Got time for one more question then?”

“Yes, go ahead.” Jason stood, stretched, and wiped his hands on a towel.

“It’s about Elke.”

“Okay.”

He hesitated slightly. “Look, you’ve known her a long time.”

“On and off, yes. She’s an unusual character.”

That was a sympathetic opening. Good.

“Yes, that’s it. Previously, you know how she acted toward me. Distant, even condescending, and I deserved it when we first met. We got past that. Strictly professional, much the way she is with you.”

“Yes, and that’s good, I hope?”

“It was. She’s a hell of a blaster, glad to have her around. Always reliable. She opened up just a tiny bit last year.”

“Which is huge for her.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said. Then he blurted, “So why is she hitting on me now? I think.”

“Ahhhh,” Jason said and smiled faintly.

The older man leaned back and said, “Well, that probably has to do with you banging the trillionaire.”

Aramis cringed. He hated hearing it put that way, even if he thought that way himself.

“Jealousy?”

“Elke? No. More like ‘challenge.’ Or possibly ‘curiosity.’ If someone who can have anyone is interested in you, there must be a reason. Elke’s rather poor at social cues. That is, she’s very observant about others, but can’t manage her own. So she’s playing her own game.”

“I really don’t think that would turn out well.”

“Yeah, ain’t maturity a bitch? She probably knows that, too. She’s seeing if she can mess with your mind.”

“I’m afraid she’s going to be insulted if I don’t respond.”

“Probably. I don’t have much in the way of advice beyond this. It’s a grudge match.”

“Thanks. Really, thanks, though that last just doesn’t help.”

CHAPTER 9

FRANKLIN LEZT WAS NERVOUS,
and tense. Things like this risked more than one’s job. His appointment arrived, and as soon as the door closed, he tapped on the security field. That and a random hotel should mean they were safe. The heavy drapes were closed, and there was a screen taped to the window as well.

“It’s helping her ratings!” he said. They both knew which it and whom this was about.

Will Hepgard was not the man’s real name. It would do for now. He was too calm as he said, “It’s not an ideal result.”

Lezt tried not to be too uncalm.

“Ideal? The idea was to either disgrace her with photos of her covered in Eco Party green paint or eggs, or have criminal charges against her or those thugs.” They’d spent a lot of money on this. He needed results. He paced around the suite. Then he grabbed a beer. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to get something positive out of this. He pointed at the well. Hospitality helped.

Hepgard said, “And it didn’t work.”

What a revelation, he thought. “I fucking know it didn’t work!”

“We still have time.” Hepgard reached in, took a beer, thumbed off the lid.

The man was infuriatingly calm, but then, he had half the considerable money already.

Lezt said, “She’s at twenty-three points. We have to peg her back down below twenty or we lose the advantage we paid for.”

Did Hepgard know the significance of thirty points in the polls? Possibly not. So steer away from that.

Hepgard leaned against the wall, clearly wanting a chair. He wasn’t large, but he was soft. He did all his work with terminals and phones.

“We will. We can do some promotion here on Earth, too. And another thought: Her trip splits both her office and her campaign. Can we arrange something embarrassing around her office?”

Lezt said, “Are you kidding? Jaekel’s the real worker. All Highland offers is guidelines, and she can do that just fine from there. It’s probably running smoother without her nitpicks.” Was that useful info to share? Or too useful?

Hepgard nodded and leaned back. “Okay, so we need to focus on her campaign.”

“And besides us, Hunter’s people are about to jizz their pants over her being away. He’s plowing money into ad loads to get a good lead now.”

“A shame that’s all going to fall apart when word gets out.”

“A shame. The week before the election, too.”

Hepgard shook his head. “You like that too much. I want to do it sooner. A month out. That gives time for him to try to justify it, and for all the inquiries to build. Then we have professional outrage people to be outraged. Unless your boss is set on the last minute?”

Lezt sighed. “Look, I’m telling you way too much on this. The SecGen is not the sharpest spoon on the rack. Nor is he the most determined. He’d probably object, and he’d certainly let word slip to someone. They might or might not reveal it, but we’re not telling him. You know Ingo makes most of the decisions, yes?”

“I knew he made recommendations.”

“That’s the official story. No, he’s the brains. Cruk is a pretty face, but too emotional.”

“Is that why he has two types of speeches?”

“Yes, the ones that piss people off are his own cute creations. The ones that sway people are written by a professional Ingo hired. And we’re not talking about this anymore. What can you arrange on embarrassment?”

“Some amusing ads. I can even pin them on Hunter. Then use her money.”

That was interesting. “Hah. I like that a lot. Do it, and make sure this one works.” Damn, he’d finished a beer already.

Hepgard nodded confidently. “It will. Even if she has a boost now, it’ll all add up to a decline later.”

It was dangerous to meet in person, but there was no way such an issue would ever get discussed over any kind of connection.

“Good. But we need both short term and long term. Trends.”

“I’ll be on it. Thanks for the beer.” Hepgard took one healthy swallow and set the rest of the bottle down.

Lezt considered. Hepgard could probably pull it off. He’d done a good job with the Eisington campaign, if you measured good jobs by dismal failures that everyone followed in amusement. But just in case, there was another source.

“Yeah, those specialists. They are very good at keeping someone alive, yes?”

“Absolutely. They’ve never lost a patient.”

“Good. Then I want them to proceed. There are going to be casualties, and I wouldn’t want them to die.”

“They’re on site already, of course.”

“Yes, get them in play. Someone’s life is at stake.”

Or would be, very soon.

Jason looked through the inventory to see what they could offer to Das as a diplomatic gift. They’d certainly share intel that would help the military if it wouldn’t hinder them. Ammo or weapons wouldn’t matter, nor most logistical items. Though they did have some sanitized handguns. Those could make useful dump guns for officially unarmed technicians or support troops. They could even be presented casually enough. Three of those, then.

What about staging their own fake attack and having Elke volunteer to help? But that was complicated, deceitful and risky. He had no qualms about cheating, but their position with Das was improved if Das could trust them more than others.

Unmarked bullion and cash. They could spare some, but it would have to clearly be “logistics” and not “cash bribe.” He’d work on that.

Could they spare some tracking units? They had several, and planned to consume/abandon/destroy them as they went. If they could get more in a timely fashion, those would work. Good.

He was jarred from his planning by Elke’s voice.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes, what do you need?”

“My explosives. Did you not know they were canceling my request?” She was agitated, almost fidgeting.

“I put in the request. Alex put in the request. They said they were approving the weapons. They didn’t specifically mention explosives.”

“When did you know this?”

“I knew we didn’t have them when we left Earth. They were supposed to catch up. At no point did they refuse.” He’d gotten every indication the order was in process.

“And here?”

“Nothing in the crates, and no inventory or request mentioning them. Black hole.”

She said, “You knew the ROE, though. That they weren’t allowing explosives other than very small charges for demolition on the controlled range only.”

“Elke, I did not know that, at all. I’ve heard nothing on limits.”

She stared; he stared.

He wondered now. They’d both been given different stories. “So, they lied to us about the availability, or rather, deliberately concealed the information. And lied to me about rules of engagement. Just a moment.” He thumbed his phone.

“Intel, Captain Das.”

“Jason, Jason.”

“Hi, Jason,” Das replied, sounding cheerful enough.

“Can you confirm for me the military ROE with weapons?”

“Yeah, patrol commander key for nonlethal release. Lethal weapons require shift commander approval from here. Support weapons restrained for two minutes, then only by shift commander approval. The colonel can release earlier on personal authority. Explosive munitions restricted to artillery, Aerospace Force air assets, and Special Operating Units or allied equivalents, which we agree means you.”

“Thanks. Just needed to confirm.”

“Understood.”

He clicked off.

Elke said, “So the military would allow us to do whatever BuState authorizes, as is proper. Meaning Highland’s people blocked the shipment.”

“Can we ask her to intercede?”

“Please don’t,” Elke said.

“No?”

“No. I and Aramis shall make a shopping expedition.”

He thought that over. They needed Elke, but they also needed her with best gear. Aramis needed to stash more stuff, too. They’d fill in temporarily.

He said, “I’ll clear it with Alex. Go.”

Aramis was still a bit surprised that Elke trusted him that much. Serving together seemed to have smoothed out their differences. She was a disturbing flake, but incredibly good at her job, certainly courageous, and tough enough.

The vehicle they were in was a combination truck and passenger escort vehicle, with an improved chassis. It would handle rubble just fine. It wasn’t a track, and it wasn’t proof against anything above pistols. Still, they hoped to blend in enough. Their clothes were generic unless one looked closely at the armor thread, and no one should notice one vehicle of thousands. As war-torn as this hole was, it was still much richer than Celadon had been, or still was.

“I find religion useful,” Elke said.

“Oh? Are you religious?”

“Not very. I am nominally Lutheran through my grandmother. I was christened, and I have been to a friend’s church wedding.”

“So what’s useful?”

“Half of the people here are either rabidly worshiping today, or pretending to. The other half will worship on Sunday, or prepare to.”

“Except for the ones on Earth’s clock, who will worship at two random times next week.”

“And those few extremists who will worship on Tuesday, and the splitters from them who will use Earth Tuesday.”

“It’s also near shift change for the military.”

“Oh, how convenient,” she said, failing to hide her smile.

“So how do you plan to do this?”

“The really old fashioned way,” she said.

“Shoot someone and take it?”

She shook her head. “Sadly, no. We shall bribe them far too much. These Grainne coins and a small amount of gold will attract plenty of attention.”

“That’s potentially a problem.”

“It is for the person attempting to cash them in, which will not be us.”

“Ah, enough to get them to say ‘yes,’ not enough to point at us, but too much for them to easily dispose of.”

“And unmarked to us.”

He checked the map—printed map, so it couldn’t be tracked by anyone, though there were still ways to follow the vehicle. Jason assured him the module on the dash would fuzz and distort their location so they’d be only very generally locatable.

“Left here,” he said. He saw what lay ahead and added, “and forward.” There were police set up near the building. He wasn’t going to stop.

“It would make sense,” she said, “that a warehouse selling precursor chemicals would have a police post, on this planet.”

“What next?”

“Vehicle store, pharmacy, standard hardware store.”

He looked around at the business signs. “This way seems to be lighter industrial and commercial.”

Another five kilometers found all types of stores. Elke grabbed a paper pad, printed very rapidly, and handed him a list.

“You are working on a swimming pool for a wealthy client,” she said.

“Understood.”

Inside, he felt nervous about the amounts in question, but piled them on a dolly and nudged it into motion. It followed him.

“Hydrochloric acid,” he said.

“Aisle Three R,” it replied in passable English, though the accent was both simulated and British with an overlay of Turk.

“Chlorine pool shock.”

“Aisle Five M.”

“Heavy grease.” And so it went.

He reached the exit and the dolly scanned, but a clerk checked the contents by hand against the screen as well.

“You are working on a pool?” the man asked with a smile.

Damn, Elke’s good
. “Yes,” he said. “Wealthy client up north.”

“Tessekur.”
Thanks
, in some dialect of Turkish.

“And you,” he said.

He loaded it into the truck, climbed in, and Elke asked, “Did you get it?”

“Yes. What’s next?”

“I will take the vehicle and engine store.”

He drove to it, she slipped out, and he sweated in tension. He stayed in the vehicle surreptitiously watching all angles. It was twenty minutes before she returned, and loaded more cartons in the bed.

Once in, she said, “I will not be able to fabricate at the compound. I will need a safehouse.”

“Jason has two. I’ll also be adding supplies.”

“Better equipped, more private, closer, are my needs, in that order.”

“Luckily one of them fits all that.”

“Good. I badly want caps and detonators, but I will have to improvise.”

“You aren’t going to try to buy some?”

“They are too obvious and they are alert here.”

She flipped open her phone and keyed it, voice only.

“Argonaut,” was the answer.

“We’re going to need a rest at the apartment. We’ll catch up later,” she said.

“Understood. Can you be back in fifteen hours?”

“Yes.”

“Sleep well.”

She keyed off.

“Resting?” he asked.

“Manufacturing,” she said.

“I’ll do what I can to help.” Manufacturing explosives on a remote planet full of factional violence. That was a beer story.

It took several minutes to drive to the safehouse, and several more to find it, without being traced. Paper maps were secure, but often harder to read, especially in this poorly laid out ratmaze.

True to form, Highland didn’t really notice two substitutions in her escort. Horace really wondered just how many issues the woman had. Her anger, introversion, smugness, ego and greed were all indicative of any number of dysfunctions or disorders.

He was sure the backfills were competent. He even knew them slightly. He still would rather have the regulars. However, there was a promise of actual explosives when they returned.

JessieM was clearly shaken and nervous. She was holding up, but likely due to being a subordinate to Highland. On her own she’d be a wreck. If they were to cover her in an engagement, she’d need hands-on escort, and possibly carried. Mass around sixty kilos, he estimated. Doable.

Still, this evening’s mission was with limos. They’d roll from the compound, out the back gate guarded by a mixed force of Army and State with Cady monitoring both and gibbering in rightful paranoia at the potential risks. Once out, they would have an Army escort, this being one of the few official BuState meetings.

It went well enough. They’d tested weapons inside the garage, and the Army seemed to actually accept it, with grumbling. The gate was ahead, and he counted three Grumblies with mounted guns.