by Ward Wagher
“Get out of my office!”
“Certainly.”
Frank walked out to the ground car where Smith waited.
“He didn't buy it.”
“I didn't really expect him to,” Frank said. “He threw me out.”
“I thought he was smarter than that,” Smith said.
“There was no way he was going to accept something like that, Cedric. It removes his leverage.”
“Correction. I thought he would be smart enough to seem to go along until he could knife you.”
“You have a point,” Frank said. “I think I surprised him and he shot off his mouth without thinking. At least I know what he really thinks.”
“A good time to watch our backs, Skipper.”
“Indeed. I probably should have waited a bit to do this. I don't have a picture of where all of the Provost's allies are. But things started to move, and I wanted to get in front of it.”
“Oh, you're in the front, all right, Skipper.”
“Make sure everyone is armed from here on out,” Frank said. I'm not sure what the Provost might do, and Benjie will be unpredictable, too.”
“You're going to have to kill him, you know.”
“Everybody keeps saying that, Cedric.”
“For a reason.”
Frank shrugged. “Let's go see the mayor. I can deal with that whenever it happens. The good news is that Benjie's thugs are incompetent.”
“An incompetent bullet will kill you just as dead, Frank.”
“Thanks a lot, Cedric. Don't you think I know that? Good Lord!”
Smith shook his head. “Sorry, Frank. That didn't come out the way I intended. I just want you to be careful.”
“Let's just drop it, okay?”
The half-hour ride from the University campus to Gustav City Hall was quiet. Frank spent the time reviewing his plans. The mayor was once again glad to see him.
“Mr. Nyman, how good of you to stop by.”
“I hope you'll still think so when I get done.”
“That certainly sounds ominous,” Osterman said. He looked at his wrist chrono. “Do you think it will impact my weekend?”
“It certainly may.” Frank pulled out the sheaf of paper again. “Take a look at this.”
The mayor took the papers over to his desk and sat down. He carefully read through the charter and the signatures. Then he looked up at Frank.
“Are all these people truly on-board with this, Frank?”
Frank nodded. “Yes, they are, Mr. Mayor. I got a personal commitment when they signed.”
The mayor propped his elbows on the desk and studied the charter again.
“Lucretia,” he yelled.
There was a thump as Mrs. Osterman's feet hit the floor, and she walked into the office.
“Take a look at this, please.”
Without a word she took the papers and scanned them. She looked up at Frank, and then at Osterman.
“Is this for real?”
“It certainly is, Lucretia,” Frank said.
“Some people are going to die before this is done.”
“That is certainly possible.”
She glared at Frank. “I really resent you bringing my husband into this.”
Frank looked up at the ceiling and then back down at her. “If you look at the signatures on the document, I expect a lot of resentful spouses. But it has to be done. The longer we wait, the worse it will be when it finally happens. The good news is that the crooks running this place are stupid.”
“Stupid is as stupid does, I guess,” the mayor said. “I'm sorry Precious, but I have to agree with Frank. This is the time to do it.”
“I somehow knew you were going to say that, DeWayne.” She let go with a heavy sigh. “Just make sure your will is up to date. At least I'll have your money.”
Osterman watched as his wife marched out of the room. “It's been a few years since I've seen her that mad.”
Frank stared at the wall for a while before speaking. “Mr. Mayor, I will give you free passage on the next ship away from here. You can take your wife to Caledon or somewhere for a vacation until things quiet down again.”
“Not necessary, Mr. Nyman. We are here for the duration. Lucretia is not angry for what you did. She's angry that it was necessary.”
“You don't understand. A year ago I didn't get my wife out of a similar situation and now she's dead. I could not do something like that to you.”
Osterman stood up and walked around to Frank. “I didn't know. I'm very sorry. But you cannot hold yourself responsible for every death in the universe. The Ostermans will make their own decision.”
“That's pretty much what Wendy told me. And I lost her.”
“Frank! Have you been carrying this around for an entire year?”
“What are you talking about?” Frank responded.
“Death is a very human condition. It is the result of a lost humanity. Look to Jesus, Man. It's the only way you can be rescued. You cannot carry this burden, but He can.”
Frank shook his head. “I didn't come in here to talk religion, Mr. Mayor. I don't have time today. Now, what about the document?”
Osterman picked up the papers again and perused them.
“You got all these other guys to sign on. Where do I sign?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Frank looked at the five people in his study, and then looked at his wrist chrono.
“Okay, it's 2AM. Comms in quiet mode?”
Everyone chuckled. Having a comm unit sounding during the operation would be unfortunate.
“I'm ready to go,” Stephanie said.
“You're sure you want to do this?” Frank asked. “You could just give the passcode to Sergeant Smith and let him go in by himself.”
“Somebody has to look after the sergeant,” she replied with a grin. “With what I have heard about him and Francine, I feel obligated to keep him out of trouble.”
“You've got yourself a minder, Sarge,” Gough commented.
“You two have the farthest to travel,” Frank said. “You'd better get on the road.”
“Right, Mr. Nyman,” Stephanie said.
They were both dressed in dark slacks and black sweatshirts. The walked out of the room.
“Spanky, are you all set for the waterfront?”
“Absolutely, Friend Frank. SergeantMartinJones and I will sweep the court.”
“I think that's field Spanky,” Jones made one of his rare comments.
“That too.”
“Good,” Frank said. “If anyone gives you trouble, pull back. I don't want to tip the opposition.”
“If anyone sees the flyers before morning, I think they will be well and truly tipped,” Gough said.
“True enough,” Frank replied, “but I don't want to get Spanky caught in the middle of something.”
“Don't underestimate the Woogie,” Spanky said.
Frank shrugged. “Never, Spanky. But I would feel really bad if you got wasted.”
Jones tilted his head towards the door. “Let's go, Spanky.”
The human and Woogie slipped out of the room.
“I don't think you need to worry about them, Frank,” Gough said.
“You notice Jones pulled Spanky out before I was completely finished.”
“You were getting into your Mother Hen mode. Smith has mentioned it,” Gough said.
Frank raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
“Actually George is the one I'm worried about, Gough. He starts getting quavery every time we talk about the operation. Speaking of whom, I need to give him a call.”
Frank pulled out his comm and punched a code.
He listened for Liston to answer. “It's Frank, George. We ready?”
Gough and Emily watched him.
“Yes. We're rolling at this end.”
He listened some more.
“Okay, put her on.”
The sound of Pamela's voice clearly carried to Gough and Emily.
“Right, Pamela. I don't want you going out there. George will just have to... No, I hear you. Okay.”
Frank disconnected and put his com away. He looked at the Brundages with a small smile. “It looks like the Lady Pamela is putting some backbone into George. Apparently his feet were growing cold.”
“I had a conversation with Pamela this week,” Emily said. “I believe we reached an understanding.”
“I don't like her going out like that,” Frank said. “It's very risky.”
“Frank, this whole operation is risky. She told me she almost left George when he wimped out the last time around.”
“Yes, but if she gets hurt or killed, I won't forgive myself, and George will probably hate me too.”
“How long were you in the Navy, Frank?”
“Thirty years, near enough.”
“Then you know about command responsibility,” Emily said. “Now, suck it up, Captain. With all due respect.”
Frank glared at Emily, who glared back at him. Gough was grinning.
Frank visibly wilted. “Okay, Commander. Point taken. Now we should probably go to the sergeants' hidey-hole. We need to watch the grounds, as well as track the progress of our little revolution.”
The small Rancher delivery van eased along the streets of Gustav. Frank had arranged to borrow it from one of the local business people. Smith was driving.
“I could have driven, Cedric,” Stephanie said.
“Yes, but I've seen your driving,” Smith replied. “The idea is to reach our objective without calling a lot of attention to ourselves.”
“Exactly,” she replied. “I'm a good driver.”
“For you, the throttle has only two positions: on and off. If any of the local gendarmes were out and about they would wonder what you were doing driving about the town at this hour of the night. With me driving, there is some hope we will pass unnoticed”
“Thanks a lot, Cedric. You really know how to give a girl confidence.”
Smith chuckled. “When this is over with, I promise I'll give you some professional driving lessons. For now, you can sit in the passenger seat and watch the master at work.”
“I don't understand why you and Jones always treat me as your retarded cousin,” she said. “I know what I'm doing.”
“What training have you had, Stephanie?”
“I grew up on the streets of Gustav. I had to learn to watch out for myself. Emily taught me how to shoot.”
They continued the ride for a while in silence for a while before Smith sighed.
“I don't know where to begin, Stephanie. I hear what you are saying, but you're wrong on so many levels.”
“Oh, come on, Cedric. I know you and Jones are good, but have a little respect here.” Her dark tresses swung in the shadow about her face as she spoke.
“Okay, let me make two points. Then if you want to continue the discussion, we can do so. But don't forget to maintain situational awareness.”
“Right, Sarge.”
“First of all, Martin and I went through Basic Training, then Spaceborne. In addition to learning all manner of combat, we learned how to stay in shape. If you are serious about getting into the sneaking and peeking business, you need to start working out with Emily.”
“I exercise...”
“I'm not done yet,” Smith said. “When I joined the Baltic Regiment I went through training again. The colonel believes in thorough training. It made Spaceborne seem like kindergarten. And I've been in this business for thirty-five years. I've seen and done a lot, although I can still be surprised. My training prepares for me for that.”
“And you are, what, fifty-five?” she asked.
“Fifty-three. And for your information, I can still do two-hundred sets every day. And I've just covered the first part.”
“There's another car a block over, Cedric.”
Smith leaned forward and looked to the right. When they crossed an intersection, the other car did so too, a block over.
“Got it. I don't think anyone is on to us, but let's play it careful.”
Spanky stood behind the front seats of another Rancher van as Jones drove towards the waterfront.
“Are you ready if things get rough?” Jones asked.
“I have a placka-placka-thoob, and I know how to use it.”
Jones snorted. “I'll take your word for it. I had somebody shoot me with one of those Woogie-Whackers once. When I started moving again, I wished I had caught a slug instead.”
Spanky made his stopped-plumbing laughter. “Understand, Friend Martin. The Woogie highly motivated to give and not receive too.”
“Just make every effort not to use it tonight. Everybody in the neighborhood will hear it, and you are the only Woogie in Gustav.”
“Must get more Woogies. Spanky too conspicuous.”
“You said it. Seems to be a lot of traffic out tonight.”
The Woogie spun around, scanning with his single large blue eye. “Party night?”
“Dunno. Things might get complicated.”
“Woogie need disguise.”
“Like what? A dimaton or something?”
“No. Charlie cannot leave the water... you tease the Woogie?”
“Come'on Spanky. You know better than that.”
Spanky was quiet as he considered that. A moment later another car shot across the intersection ahead and stopped in front of them. Jones swore as he fought the Rancher into a sideways slide, getting it stopped.
Two men stepped out of the car and walked towards the van. Spanky slipped towards the back, and quietly eased open the double doors.
“Mind telling us what you are doing out this time of night?” The man stood at the driver's window, the other behind him.
“Make'n deliveries. We was runnin' late, an' the boss said to make it happen.”
“And what company are you with?”
“Sliding-Door Printers. Customer called at 4:30 with a rush request. He's waitin' on me.”
“Why don't you just step out of the vehicle.”
Spanky chose that moment to fire his Woogie-Whacker. Both men collapsed to the wood-thwocking sound of the stunner.
Jones stepped out of the van. “I might've been able to talk my way out of that.”
“No time, Friend Martin. Sleepy darts?”
“Right.”
Smith and Stephanie had cut across a block to get behind the other car. It had begun maneuvering as well. The two cars were threading back and forth through the grid-work of streets in Gustav.
“Whoever it is must have been following us, Cedric,” Stephanie said.
“Call the boss and let him know what's going on.”
“Right.” She pulled out her comm and hit the code.
“Homeplate.”
“We got a car following us, Boss,” Stephanie said.
“Tell Smith to break contact and go to ground. We have another situation.”
After Frank had disconnected, Stephanie closed up her com. “The Boss says to break contact and go to ground. He says he has another situation.”
“Not good, Stephanie, not good,” Smith grunted, as he whipped the van to the left around the corner and cobbed the throttle.
“I don't know how you can see without headlights.”
“The key is to look out ahead, and not up close. You can make out more detail at a distance at night.”
The tires squealed as Smith took a quick right hand turn, and then whipped left into an alley.
“Jonesy and I explored a bit,” Smith explained. Halfway between blocks he pulled into gap in the wall that ran along the right side of the pavement. “Whoever it is will have to come up through here to spot us, and even then they could drive past without noticing the van.”
Stephanie had one hand on the door handle and the other on the seat back. Then she quickly rolled her window down.
“Good thinkin',” Smith said as he rolled his down. He leaned his head out to listen.
“Sound
s like two or three cars, Cedric,” Stephanie said quietly.
“Not good at all,” he commented. “We been out at night before, and it's usually quiet as the grave.”
“Have we been made?”
“I don't know. I need to talk to the boss.”
Frank sat at the security console at the house on Wilton Street. Emily sat next to him and watched the screens. Gough had gone outside to patrol the grounds.
Frank's com buzzed. “Homeplate.”
“Smith. What's going on?”
“Jones and the Woogie got stopped,” Frank said. “He was able to put sleepy-darts in them, but it's a complication.”
“Well, we got two or three cars quartering the city looking for us, Skipper.”
“Cripes. Are you secure, Cedric?”
“For the moment. We gotta be blown, though.”
“Sit tight for now. I've lost tactical awareness.”
“Right, Boss.” And he disconnected.
Frank put an elbow on the security console, and cupped his hand around his face as he thought.
“What's going on, Frank?” Emily asked.
“I don't think we're blown, but somebody knows something is going on. I need to talk to George.”
Frank punched George's code on his comm.
“What?” came the whisper.
“Status?”
“We're about halfway across the base to the tower.” Frank had assigned George to shut down ground to orbit communications.
“Are you secure?”
“Heck no! We're in the middle of an unprintable field. What do you want?”
“Be careful, George. We may be busted.”
Liston began swearing quietly over the com-link. “I've got my fanny hanging in the breeze here, Frank! Pamela is with me.”
“Sit tight, George. If you need to pull back to cover, then do so. I have a situation here”
Liston was still swearing when Frank disconnected.
“George didn't blow the whistle, did he?” Emily asked.
Frank shook his head. “Doesn't look like it. George can't act that well. He's scared to death.”
Emily scanned the screens again.
“Frank, where's Gough?”
Frank quickly scanned the screens and then picked up his short range radio comm.
