by O. J. Lowe
The new offices of the Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces of the Four Kingdoms weren’t entirely what Nicholas Roper had expected as he stood outside them, hands in his pockets. They never were. The building was old, gaunt and grey, probably built fifty years or more but it looked like it’d survive a heavy assault from the air. They usually did. Under the edict of the Supreme Commander, they moved the facility every few months, everything they erected for the time they were there simply temporary. That which couldn’t be moved was left behind. An interesting situation, to be sure and the antithesis of Unisco. When they settled down, they were there to stay come what may.
Still he had to back the man’s judgement. He’d cut everyone out of his inner circle who he was sure he couldn’t trust. The legends about him told that he was a deeply paranoid man who despite his military genius wasn’t entirely trusted in the circles of which he would have been expected to move. He didn’t do the popular thing; he did the thing he thought was right at the time. In another life, he might have been a crusader. Hells, he might have been a straight-up hero of the kingdoms.
The flip side was it had made him the ideal choice to lead the fight against the Coppingers. His orders had been simple, wipe them all out on a military level and he had moved to oblige. He’d already set up several skirmishes on the Vazaran coastline which, while they hadn’t done much to remove full Coppinger control from the kingdom, had at least made them think twice about immediately moving in on Serran. He got the feeling that was much more of a priority to the Senate than the reclaiming of the kingdom they’d had taken from them. Nick Roper also owed him his life.
It was an interesting prospect having that sort of debt to someone, an occasional hazard of duty. He wondered if he’d ever be in the position to repay it. Not as impossible as it might seem. Doubtless Claudia Coppinger had her own list of targets, just as the Senate had put up its own kill list of high ranking Coppinger affiliates in the aftermath of the Carcaradis disaster. Bounty hunters had tried, and they’d failed miserably in bringing in any of them so far. That thought made him smile. Rank amateurs were not going to get the job done here. They should just let Unisco do the job and claim the rewards. The professionals would succeed where the novices had failed.
As old as the building might look, he found it hard to miss some of the more up-to-date security measures present about it, early warning systems, alarms, he was sure he even saw the tell-tale outline of a pair of sentry cannons above the porch entrance. Anyone who came through this way was going to have a nasty surprise if their intentions were ill. The door had no lock or handle on the outside, only a card reader currently bearing an ill red light. Nick rolled his eyes, reached into his pocket and drew out the card, holding it against the reader. Too many long seconds passed, and the red light turned green. The door swung open silently and he stepped through into a dark reception, the lights dimmed and the shadows deep in every corner. The one solitary light that was on full glare flickered sporadically up above him. Someone had a flare for the dramatic, Nick thought as he moved several steps forward.
He saw her eyes before he saw the rest of her, saw her perched behind a desk like a cat. One hand was flat on the desk, one down behind it and he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover there was a blaster currently trained on him. She wore glasses, a faint red hue glimmering about their lenses and he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear they had a thermal lining to detect body heat in the dark. She could see him a lot more easily than he could see her. Second line of defence. He couldn’t have hit much in this light, short of firing blind and hoping to get lucky.
“Good morning,” he said pleasantly. “I’m here to see the Supreme Commander first, the prisoner second.”
She said nothing, just studied him with eyes that were almost malevolent in their fixation on him.
“I can go straight on through, if you like,” Nick offered mock-helpfully. He found himself deliberately trying to be disarming, always an important trait he’d found when facing armed women in a dark room. “Or I can show you my ID, we can do the small talk and you could not shoot me in the spine. Does that sound preferable?”
“You can suit yourself either way,” she finally said. It was hard to make out much about her in the dank, much less get a read on her. “Both work for me.” It didn’t sound like she was joking. “Although, I don’t feel much like cleaning blood out the floor again.”
“Well I’d hate to make more work for you,” Nick said. “Wait, they make you clean up after you’ve shot someone? Guess being short staffed doesn’t work for you in that regard, am I right?” With a big grin on his face, he slowly pulled his jacket open and reached inside. “I’m going for my ID. My name is Nicholas Roper, I’m with Unisco.” He found it, held it open and flashed it in front of her eyes. He even thumbed the print pad to activate the vocal confirmation.
“So, you want to see Supreme Commander Criffen? And then the prisoner?” A repeat of what he’d said several moments earlier, a confirmation he nodded his head to. “That can be arranged.” Her fingers danced across an unseen keyboard, the clacking of the keys the only proof that it was there. “Agent Roper, your appointment has been confirmed, he will see you immediately along with the presence of Ms Larsen. One of your own.”
He’d already guessed that but nodded in agreement. “Lovely. Lovely. Is that Soren Larsen or Natalia Larsen?”
She visibly relaxed, both hands came to the desk, he could just about make them out in the half-light. “I’m glad you said that. Wouldn’t have liked to have shot you.”
“That makes two of us, ma’am,” Nick said. He’d been urged to ensure he said that when prompted and now he was glad he had, no matter how ridiculous it had come across at the time. “Some people and their code phrases, huh?”
“The Supreme Commander appreciates his security,” the woman said. Behind her, the door slid open under its own steam. He didn’t appreciate automation. Too much could go wrong. “Enjoy your visit. Up the stairs, second door on the left. It’ll be open for you.”
“Well if I’m due this sort of welcome at every checkpoint…” Nick quipped.
The security was impressive but never to the point of impenetrable, he had to note. Granted, he did have permission to be here. If he didn’t, he might not have quite fancied it. Always he got the impression that he was being watched on his trek deep into the building. Black eyes of monitoring devices lurked through the gloom. If he looked carefully, he could see the glint of their reflection.
Inquisitor Larsen was waiting for him in the small room he’d been directed to, her expression patient but her eyes exasperated. As to why, he couldn’t say as he gave her a smile. She was part of Daniel Kearns’ liaison department as best he remembered, despatched to work with the Supreme Commander’s office to smooth the way over in case of events like this.
“Inquisitor Larsen,” Nick said pleasantly. He’d thought her presence was just part of some silly code, hadn’t truly expected to meet her here.
“Agent Roper.” Her tone wasn’t anywhere near as pleasant, she sounded tired and harassed. Not unlike the last time he’d seen her nearly a year ago now, back in Belderhampton. She’d come up in the organisation since then. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” Natalia Larsen was not a bad looking woman, older than him with caramel coloured hair and deep brown eyes, managing to look formal in a blazer and skirt above a white shirt. A large ostentatious ID card hung around her neck. She finally managed a smile at him. “Wish it could have been under better circumstances.”
“No point wishing for those,” Nick said. “You’ll be wishing a long damn time and be part of a big bloody queue.”
“Truth there,” she replied. “You’re here to see the Supreme Commander?”
He nodded. “I am. Him first, the prisoner second.” Nobody saw the prisoner without the permission of the Supreme Commander. Criffen was that convinced the prisoner was the single most valuable piece of intel they had on the whole
Coppinger operation and he wasn’t going to let him be lost in the murky depths of some faceless prison somewhere. Nick wasn’t entirely convinced by the belief but what the Supreme Commander wanted, the Supreme Commander got. As far as the Senate was concerned, he was their best chance and he was being indulged with everything he needed.
“Good luck with that one,” Larsen said. “He’s not being cooperative again?”
“Criffen? Or the prisoner?”
Just for a moment, he saw the smile in her eyes, fleeting but there. “Both,” she said simply. “By the way, are you armed?”
He’d been expecting this. “Yep. Two blasters, one under the arm, one on the ankle. Want me to remove them?”
“Dear Divines, you’re carrying two weapons?” She sounded appalled by it. “Are you preparing for war?”
“If I was, I’d have three,” Nick said. He wasn’t joking either. “Want me to remove them?”
She finally nodded. “Yep. Nobody the supreme commander doesn’t trust gets to carry a weapon in his presence. He’s very clear on that.”
“So, it’s true that he’s that paranoid then?” Nick asked. He reached into his jacket, removed the new X9S and popped the power pack out the butt. Ever since Ross Navarro had moved into Alvin Noorland’s old job, he’d been making recommendation after recommendation for better weapons. The X9S was infinitely superior to the old X7, agents were already discovering. It improved on firepower and charge capacity while maintaining that sense of reliability that had been the staple of the X7. Not for nothing had it been the weapon Unisco agents had used for so long.
“Prefer to describe it as careful,” Larsen said. She took the weapon off him, watched as he removed his old X7 from the ankle holster. She put both weapons in a locker off to the side, gave him a ticket stub which he pocketed.
“Well no harm in that,” Nick said. “Agent Larsen, I think things are going to get worse before they get better. A second weapon might save your life one day.”
“Who says I don’t already have something up my sleeve?” she said with a playful wink. “I might show you it one day. If you can get through the day without antagonising Criffen.”
“Now why the hells would I want to do that?” Nick asked. “I mean, antagonise Criffen. Not see your second weapon. It’s probably a good choice.” He smiled at her, shifted a little uneasily on the spot. He and Larsen had some history. She was still a beautiful woman. Definitely more than a little intimidating. It was part of the reason she’d made such a good inquisitor. Those eyes saw through you. “I mean, if you’re not doing anything at the end of your shift…”
It was the first time he’d ever actually met Gary Criffen, but he knew what to expect. He’d read his dossier before coming out here, a lot of very distinguished career behind him, no doubt leading to his appointment to this office. He was the first man who’d led a naval engagement against the Coppingers and in the face of unknown odds, he’d managed to avoid defeat. He’d only been an admiral then. Promotion had followed soon after for ‘exemplary conduct on the battlefield.’
The man looked tired, he noticed that immediately, especially when compared to the photograph that he’d seen of him. It was only a few years old, but it looked like the stress had since taken a toll on his body. Criffen was only a slight man, not quite the physical build you’d expect of a man who’d devoted his life to serving his kingdom and later all the kingdoms, with cropped grey hair balding in patches across a weathered scalp. He sat behind a desk in just his shirtsleeves, his uniform jacket hung over the chair behind him, a tabac roll resting next to him, smoke rising up from the smouldering edge.
“Supreme Commander,” Nick said as he entered the room. Criffen’s gaze rose, one hand halfway to his sidearm before he relaxed visibly.
“Ah you must be the Unisco agent,” he said. “Another one. I think I have too many of you people in my offices sometimes.”
Nick ignored the comment. “Agent Nicholas Roper, Sir. And might I say, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m sure it is,” Criffen said. “A lot of people say it, I’m not entirely sure how many of them mean it. Just as I’m not entirely sure you mean it.”
“Well probably more than most, if I’m honest,” Nick said. “See I probably do owe my life to you in some respects, so I think being false with you would be rude at worst and churlish at the very least.”
“You owe me your life? Well I do appreciate your sense of drama, son.”
“That engagement against the Eye of Claudia some months ago,” Nick explained. “When you arrived, it was to cover the entrance of a Unisco team intending to rescue one of their agents. That agent was me. So yes. I’m very grateful.”
Criffen peered at him. “And it’s taken you six months to say that?”
“Well I imagine we’ve both been busy. And you’re not an easy man to get hold of, are you?” Nick kept his tone level, not accusatory, just a statement of fact.
“It has been an uncommonly busy time,” Criffen eventually said. “I do have to give you that. These bastards never want to give up. But we’ll beat them. Of that, I have no doubt. Eventually they’ll fall.”
“I wish everyone had your confidence,” Nick said. “Unisco analysts predict that…”
Criffen waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t tell me what your analysts think. I had one in here a few weeks ago quoting to me all sorts of predictions and I had him banned from the building. You’re lucky I decided to let you in. Never heard so much Dei-damned horseshit in all my life.”
You kept Inquisitor Larsen around though, Nick thought, hiding a smirk. Arguing that point felt like a waste of time, he decided to keep it to himself. “Indeed. Anyway, the reason I’m here… I want to see the prisoner.”
“You’re not alone there,” Criffen said thoughtfully. “A lot of people want to see him; it doesn’t mean they get in to do it. That man is a valuable asset. It’s taken us six months to get this close to breaking him but we’re close and by Divines, we’re going to damn well do it, even if it kills him.”
“Part of my Unisco training included interrogation,” Nick offered. “Maybe I can tip him over the edge, persuade him to be a lot more cooperative than he’s been so far. We’re running up blank on anything lately. Nobody knows anything or at least not anything they’re willing to share with us. That man is the last solid lead we have. Plus, I was the one who took him down. I’m the reason you have him in custody.”
He hated bringing that up, Criffen did too by the shade of crimson that his face quickly went but by the same token, he was right. He had been the one who’d taken down the prisoner in that whole fiasco at Carcaradis Island, when everything had gone to shit, and he’d gone through the ringer to try and see the right people were brought to justice.
“Look, Supreme Commander, I’m not entirely sure what harm it can do. It’s a win-win situation for you. I talk to him, maybe he breaks, you get intelligence you can use. Or I talk to him and he doesn’t break, he doesn’t tell us everything he knows. But at least you get that good feeling of inter-department cooperation the Senate keeps rabbiting on about.” He was sick of hearing about it personally. None of them liked sharing what they had, he got the point, no need to keep bringing it up. “We’re all on the same side, don’t forget that. We’re all trying to win this war. We’re going to do it a damn lot quicker if we work together.”
Those watery eyes studied him for several long moments, thoughtfully pensive as they took him in. The back of his neck itched, he shifted where he stood in discomfort, but he bore it out for the time being, kept the gaze locked. Even tried to hold it tight. Criffen didn’t appear to blink, just studied him coolly and impassively.
“Okay,” he said. “You can have time with him. That is acceptable to me. Just don’t break him too badly. I need him still in one piece. Wringing information out of him gets a lot damn harder if we’ve got to pick up what you left us with.”
Nick nodded amicably. “I won’t lay a finger on hi
m. I just want to talk.” As much as whaling on a Coppinger prisoner might be satisfying, it wouldn’t really help this time. If it had been Rocastle…
Yeah, if it had been Rocastle, chances were he probably wouldn’t be let anywhere near him. Arnholt had already made that much clear. Tales of his brawl with the spirit dancer on Carcaradis Island were already turning into a mini-Unisco legend and not one he was particularly proud of. Not with hindsight and having had the time to reflect. Yet at the same time, he still held the opinion that he had done everything he could possibly have been expected to do in that situation.
They’d run him through a full body scanner before letting him down into the bowels of the building, Larsen taking him down. She’d glanced at the readout with an appraising eye, a little smile on her face. The more time he’d spent with her, the more pleasant she’d slowly become, like she was happy to see him again. Given he was probably responsible for the elevated position she found herself in these days, his work on the Hobb and Carling case in Belderhampton, he couldn’t exactly blame her.
“Nah you’re clean,” she said. “Good. Not letting you in there with a weapon.”
“You know if I wanted to kill him, I wouldn’t need a weapon,” Nick said pleasantly. “Ditto for old man Criffen upstairs.”
“Yes, but Criffen did have a weapon,” Larsen said. “If you were to attack him, he’d fancy his chances of being able to at least get a shot off. At which point, we enter the room and kill you. But why would you want to attack him?”
“Just pointing out flaws in your security plan,” he said. “In case it was something you hadn’t considered.”
“Well don’t. Assumption never was one of your better habits, Nicholas. I’ve been doing this for a long time, how about you assume I know what I’m doing?”
When she used his full name, she sounded like an irate schoolteacher and he had to laugh, the response not quite drawing the reaction from her she’d expected. One moment she’d been frowning, the next she was laughing too. She looked like she didn’t know why either. Maybe she needed it, the chance to let her façade slip just for a second and relieve the pressure.
