The Bayern Agenda

by Dan Moren

  It was more startling than threatening, but it had the desired result, causing her to duck and break her aim, and giving Kovalic enough time to slam his shoulder into her solar plexus.

  The wrong shoulder again he realized, as pain exploded down the length of his arm and his vision flashed like he’d been hit by one of his own stun blasts. Nausea gripped his gut, and he went down, cradling the injured arm.

  Through the stars swimming in his vision, he could see the machine pistol lying just a few feet away; beyond it, the guard groaned faintly, but was stirring. Kovalic stumbled to his feet and picked up her weapon, then limped over to her and knocked her head briefly against the brick steps.

  Just beyond was the building’s ornate, wooden front door. On either side stood tall, narrow windows. He leaned over and peeked in one, just in time to see the blond man who had rented the van, von Denffer, appear from a doorway, trailed by an armed Brody and Nat.

  His shoulders slumped in relief, sending yet another twinge of pain up his injured right arm. Everything was fine and Nat totally had everything under control, just as he’d predicted. He raised a hand to knock on the front door when he caught sight of a pair of laser dots appear and flit onto Nat and Brody. He wanted to burst through the door and shout a warning, but the words caught in his throat.

  Von Denffer smiled and turned to face his captors, saying something Kovalic couldn’t hear, and he watched Brody and Nat look upwards – then Brody was putting down his weapon slowly. Nat still clutched hers in both hands, and Kovalic knew that expression all too well: running the odds.

  He glanced down at the gun he’d liberated from the guard and then at his right arm, which was now officially letting him know that it was on strike. Maybe he could even those odds just a bit. If only there were a way to let Nat in on the plan. What he wouldn’t give for a way to talk to…

  Blinking, he remembered what Tapper had said about the mission Brody and Nat had been on: short-range microbursts. Holding the machine pistol between his knees, he swapped the earbud back to his own comm. With a deep breath – and for good measure throwing in one of his mother’s old standby prayers – he gritted his teeth against the pain from his shoulder and switched to the frequency the SPT had been using.

  “Nat, it’s me. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, I need you to listen very closely.”

  Chapter 22

  “This is a really bad idea, Erich,” said Eli slowly, raising his hands. He tried not to look up at the balcony that encircled the foyer, but even his peripheral vision confirmed that there were at least two men up there with automatic weapons, aimed down at them. I’m no strategic expert, but I’m going to say this falls squarely under the category of “not good.”

  “I would prefer not to hurt either of you, Eli,” said Erich, a sympathetic expression on his face. “But I can’t have you leaving. You’ve been enough trouble already. Ms Mulroney,” he said, turning to Taylor, “please drop the gun.”

  Taylor, who had been grasping the weapon in both hands, slowly took her left hand off the gun, then used her right to lay it down on the floor, gingerly, as though it were a piece of delicate porcelain.

  “Thank you. Now, I’m going to have my men escort you upstairs – don’t worry, it’ll be more comfortable than your last accommodations. No need to keep up the pretense.”

  “Oh good,” said Taylor. “So, that pretty much insures that you’re going to kill us when this is all over.”

  Erich feigned a wound to the heart. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms Mulroney. I have nothing but the utmost respect for our colleagues in Eyes. We’re all on the same side here.”

  Taylor and Eli exchanged a glance, and she gave a minute shake of her head. Yeah, now is definitely not the time to correct that particular misapprehension.

  “Gotta be honest, Erich, I don’t remember you being this devious.”

  The blond pilot shook his head. “Nothing devious about it. I’m just serving the Imperium, same as you.”

  Not so much. “Sure, Erich. Sure.” He glanced over at Taylor, and frowned as he saw her stiffen suddenly, her eyes unfocusing, like she was listening to a song that he couldn’t hear. Instinct told him to turn back to Erich, keep the man’s eyes on him.

  “Funny way of serving the Imperium, by kidnapping its heir.”

  “We all follow orders, Eli. You should know that.”

  Eli’s jaw clenched. The last time he’d been given an order by an Illyrican officer, it had sent him down the long path that had ended in his defection. He wrenched his attention back to the present where there were multiple guns being pointed at him.

  “Right, right. So I guess we should just–”

  Taylor broke in suddenly, raising her hands. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Both men glanced at her in surprise, which she returned with a somewhat sour look. “Pardon me if I’m tired of hearing you two jaw on about honor and duty. Shooting me would have been faster and probably less painful.”

  Erich blinked, then nodded. “Fair enough.” He glanced up at the two men on the balcony. “Come down here and secure these two.”

  The two soldiers worked their ways around their respective balconies to the point where they merged into the single staircase below a rather hideous – in Eli’s estimation, anyway – portrait of the crown prince.

  Erich turned back to them. “On your knees, if you please. Hands behind your head.”

  As the soldiers reached the landing, guns still trained on the putative IIS agents, Taylor’s eyes jumped to Eli. “You heard him, Eli. Simon says get down.”

  He started to raise an eyebrow even as her words registered. Simon says. All of Eli’s instincts fired at once, the blaring sensation bringing him back to the cockpit of his training simulation. Behind the stick, he’d have known exactly what to do, but out here, with guns pointed at him, he went with the most literal meaning he could imagine.

  He hit the deck.

  Beside him, he was vaguely aware of Taylor also dropping to the ground; then the air above him was suddenly alive, whizzing with weapons fire. Eli clapped his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the roar. He managed to roll his head over and peek through slitted eyes at Taylor.

  She’d hadn’t so much dropped to the ground as made a dive for both her and Eli’s guns, which she’d brought up to fire at the soldiers on the staircase. They, on the other hand, had been preoccupied with the source of the automatic weapons fire which, to Eli’s surprise, had emanated from behind where he and Taylor had been standing – the building’s front door.

  Erich, likewise caught by surprise, had evidently managed to avoid the hail of bullets, fleeing up the staircase that his compatriots had just descended. Eli rolled over and tried to shout at Taylor over the din, but she was otherwise occupied.

  He felt a vibration through the floor as the two men with guns fell, though whether by the ambush or as a result of Taylor’s handiwork, it was impossible to tell. They lay across each other, eyes blank and staring. Having risen to her feet, Taylor crossed to them, keeping the pistols trained downwards, and kicked their guns out of reach. She looked up at Eli, mouthing something.

  “What?” he said, or, at least, tried to say. All he could hear was an intense ringing; he felt like he’d been submerged into the deep end of a pool. That blow to the head that he’d gotten at the embassy – Erich’s handiwork, he now realized – seemed to have come with some lingering effects.

  She tried again, slower, but Eli was having trouble processing the shape of her mouth. “Washer?” he tried. “Wear erk?”

  A hand grabbed him suddenly by the shoulder, spinning him around, and he found himself staring directly into familiar gray eyes and a stubbled face wearing an unusually concerned expression.

  “Brody, where’s Erich von Denffer?” The ringing had deadened just enough that he could make out what Kovalic was shouting as if it were being whispered to him.

  Eli pointed at the staircase. “He ran up there.
”

  Kovalic scooped up one of the fallen men’s guns and tossed it to Eli, then took the other for himself.

  Eli fumbled with the gun, narrowly avoiding shooting himself in the foot, but managed to find the correct grip somehow. He shook his head, as though that might help his hearing – and his comprehension of the situation as a whole – clear up faster.

  Kovalic was having a quiet conversation with Taylor now, though Eli couldn’t hear a single bit of it. He’d had enough of secrets, though, and did his best to draw himself up and stride over to them.

  “Kovalic, what the hell are you doing here?”

  The man glanced in his direction, eyebrows raised. “We really don’t have time to catch up, Brody. Your friend Erich’s kidnapped the crown prince.”

  Eli glanced up at the stairs. Sure, he knew that. The evidence by this point was obvious… and yet, something about it still didn’t fit. He’d known Erich for years – though, admittedly, it had been a long time ago, and people changed. Still, not this much. If Erich von Denffer had gone over this edge, something had shoved him – hard.

  And he wasn’t about to pull himself back up. Not without some help anyway.

  There was a chime from Kovalic’s sleeve, and the operative awkwardly stuffed the pistol he’d been holding into his waistband with his left hand before using the same hand to tap his earbud. “Harry?”

  Eli frowned at him; Kovalic’s right arm was hanging limply at his side and, now that he’d gotten over the initial surprise of seeing him here, he realized the man looked like he’d been through the wringer.

  “Yeah, we’re clear in here. Just looking for von Denffer and the prince. You have a perimeter set up?” He listened for a second, then swore quietly. “Got it. Grab Tapper and meet us here.” Hanging up, he retrieved his weapon. “Good news is that Frayn’s got the place surrounded. Bad news is an Illyrican fleet just jumped in system. They’ll be in orbit shortly.”

  “An Illyrican fleet?” Eli said, eyes widening. Is the room spinning, or is it just me?

  “All we have to do is find where they stashed the prince. Fortunately, I don’t think there’s any other way out of here, so we should have von Denffer cornered.”

  Eli looked back and forth from Kovalic to the stairs Erich had taken. “Well, there’s the jetpad.”

  Kovalic stopped mid-motion. “The what now?”

  “This place has a private jetpad. Erich mentioned it at the party – he said he brought the prince in on his own personal flier.”

  As if on cue, a rumbling shook the house and the faint whine of repulsors filled the air.

  Three pairs of eyes met. “Son of a bitch,” said Kovalic.

  All of them broke into a run for the stairs. At the top, they followed the sound of the repulsors to a heavy door at the end of a long hallway. Kovalic kicked it open just in time to get a faceful of the skimmer’s backwash as it took to the air. Taylor raised her pistol, sighting the ship, but Kovalic pushed her arm down.

  “We can’t shoot it down if the prince is aboard.”

  “If,” Taylor snapped. “This could all be a bluff.”

  “Or it might not be,” Eli pointed out. “We have to go after him.” He gestured to a second identical skimmer sitting unoccupied on the jetpad – thank god for the excesses of the ridiculously wealthy. “Room for two.” Without waiting for approbation, he sprinted to it and threw open the canopy.

  Punching the ignition, Eli glanced over the controls. Fairly standard for a small craft. A dashboard glowed to life, a heads-up overlay projected on the inside of the dash giving him readouts of the key information. “If either of you is coming along, now would be a good time to hop in.”

  Taylor brushed a hair out of her eyes, and nodded to Kovalic. “Go, Simon. There are a few loose ends to tie up here; I’ve got it.”

  Kovalic squeezed her shoulder, then peeled off his sleeve and handed it to her. “Tapper and Frayn are nearby and can help run any interference you need.” He smiled. “Just glad you’re OK.”

  Trying hard not to eavesdrop, but failing, Eli fired up the skimmer’s repulsors. The craft lifted a foot off the ground, then bobbed as Kovalic jumped into the passenger seat.

  “You can fly this thing, right?” said Kovalic, casting a dubious eye over the controls.

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret, captain,” said Eli, slapping the control to close the canopy. The engines came on line, and he flashed the other man a thousand-watt smile. “There’s not much I can’t fly.” He throttled up the main drive, pulling the ship into a steep climb that pressed them both back into their seats.

  Banking around, Eli brought up the radar overlay, which highlighted the other flier in a sickly blue-green. It was rising smoothly towards the vent at the top of the dormant volcano.

  “There’s no place for him to go,” Kovalic muttered. “What’s he playing at?”

  “Looks like he’s heading outside. If he gets there, there’s a hell of a lot more room for him to maneuver.”

  “To what end? These things can’t break atmosphere, can they?”

  “Nope. I guess it’s possible he’s got a getaway ship stashed out there?”

  “Even if he does, they’re not going to get out of the system with an Illyrican fleet inbound.” Kovalic shook his head. “Forget out of system; your friend Erich doesn’t have a shot in hell of making it off this planet.”

  Erich’s flier reached the vent, coating it briefly in the golden light of the sun, then vanished in a shimmer. Eli angled his own ship to follow suit, the incandescent opening growing ever larger through the canopy.

  Cut and run? That can’t be it. “I’m just not so sure that’s his plan.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Eli’s brow furrowed. “Something’s wrong. I feel like we put a table together and ended up with three extra screws. When Erich saw Taylor going off with the prince, he warned me – he warned me. Hardly the action of a kidnapper.”

  “He also kidnapped you.”

  “Then he took out two of his own guys in that interrogation room.”

  “Maybe he just saw which side his bread was buttered?”

  Maybe. But brutal opportunism isn’t Erich von Denffer’s style. The man was born with a full silver place-setting in his mouth.

  “This just doesn’t make sense,” Eli fretted. “Why did the prince’s own men kidnap him in the first place?”

  Kovalic sighed. “A lengthy and boring political reason, I’m afraid.”

  “That boils down to?”

  “The Illyrican Empire is broke.”

  Eli’s jaw dropped. “Like ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”

  “More like ‘doesn’t have two cents to rub together.’”

  “But… they’re an empire. Can empires even go broke?”

  “I look like an economist to you, Brody?”

  Throwing the throttle to maximum, Eli pulled back on the stick as they closed with the volcano’s vent, then took them up and through the opening. The windshield tinted automatically as real Bayern sunlight hit it, filtering out the brightest rays; nasty crosswinds buffeted the skimmer from what felt like every direction. Eli wrestled with the stick, trying to keep it steady, and fought down the involuntary roiling of his stomach. I hope Erich was ready for that wind shear, or else he’s just a dark spot on the volcano slope.

  Eli swiveled his head, looking for Erich’s ship; it took a second before the radar overlay picked him up, gliding down the volcano’s long slope towards the open terrain below.

  “Hold on.” Eli banked the ship, letting the narrowed profile of the craft slice through the air. The skimmer shook with the strain. Remember, Brody, this isn’t a starfighter. Don’t get fancy.

  So focused was he on the flight maneuver, hands gripping the yoke, that the sudden squelch of static over the comm system made him jump in his seat.

  “I know that has to be you on my six, Eli,” came Erich’s voice, cutting through the background static. “B
ack off.”

  Eli exchanged a glance with Kovalic, who spread his hands and shrugged. “He’s your friend.”

  With a sigh, Eli toggled the comm channel. “Believe me, coming out here to give you a piloting demonstration was not at the top of my to-do list when I got up this morning.”

  Smooth, Kovalic mouthed at him.

  Eli ignored him. “Just cut your engines and bring your craft in for a landing, Erich. We’ll sort this all out.”

  There was nothing but the sound of static on the radio for a moment, then Erich’s voice broke through again. “Thanks for the generous offer, but I think I’ll take my chances against your ace flying skills.”

  “Erich, listen to me. There’s an Imperial battlefleet coming into orbit. These fliers aren’t spaceworthy. You’ve got no place to go. Bring her down, now.”

  Eli throttled up, closing in on Erich’s craft, but he was still several hundred meters behind the other ship, which Erich was deftly guiding through the air currents. I’d forgotten just how good he is. A red light flashed on the console, but Eli kept his attention focused on Erich.

  “We know about the plot,” Eli pressed. “About the Imperium being broke.” He frowned and muted the microphone, glancing at Kovalic. “How was that supposed to end exactly?”

  “The kidnapped heir provokes the Imperium into sending a fleet to ‘rescue’ him. The Corporation security officers can’t hold off a division of trained Illyrican marines, so the Imperium effectively annexes Bayern. And, naturally, nationalizes its assets.”

  “Oh.” He toggled the mic back on and cleared his throat. “It was a really fucking complicated plan, Erich.”

  “It wasn’t my plan.”

  “No shit,” Eli said mildly. “You don’t really have the brains for that one. But running away with the prince in tow doesn’t look good, so I think we know that no matter whose plan it was, you’re the one who’s going to take the fall.”