by C. R. Daems
"He's at the Red practice range, monitoring an exercise between two groups."
"Colonel, I need to get to the Red range quickly," I said, waving toward the limo.
He nodded and moved at double time to the car.
"Serious?" he asked, looking concerned.
"Potentially," I said. "Clients don't seem to evaluate the risk before they decide what to do, or they think we are omnipotent and reduce the danger to zero."
"And if something goes wrong, it's our fault no matter how impossible it was to prevent," Naxal said almost to himself.
As I exited the limo at the Red practice range—a large field with mounds, shrubs, and a few trees—one group with white arm bands and one with red arm bands were engaged in some sort of exercise using automatic weapons, which I assumed had non-lethal projectiles.
"Stop," I said as I approached the prince and what I thought might be a general, judging by his shoulder boards and the way he stood talking to the prince.
He and the prince turned toward me. The general frowned; the prince looked angry.
I snatched the megaphone from the lieutenant standing a few meters off to the side and shouted into it, "Cease fire immediately." I waited with my Mfw drawn and sensed the four Guards with the prince also had their weapons drawn.
Slowly the activity on the field ceased, and everyone turned toward us. Before I could speak, the prince spoke.
"Who do you think you are interfering in the army's exercises?" he shouted.
"I'm a captain in the Black Guard and responsible for your safety. And right now, I judge this exercise to be potentially dangerous. So, either you leave with me, or I get to ensure the area is as safe as I can make it. Of course, you could have your father cancel the contract." I mentally added please, knowing the gods weren't paying attention or maybe were having too much fun to grant my plea.
"Do you pretend to command the army as well as Colonel Naxal's security forces?" the general asked, appearing rather calm considering I had stopped his exercise.
"No, sir. I command only the Black Guard. But while I'm responsible for the king and his son, I will determine the potential risk I'm willing to permit. If the king doesn't agree, we leave."
"You don't think Prince Kalom is safe surrounded by forty of the king's soldiers?" He sounded amused, which I took for a good sign.
"I concede, sir, that I'm overly suspicious. But we are strangers in a foreign country and are still working on who can and cannot be trusted. And guessing wrong could cost Prince Kalom his life. I'd rather look foolish and be laughed at."
"Proceed. I'm interested."
"Senior Judt, take one Guard and monitor the white group while Sergeant Click and I check out the red group," I said, and Glick fell in behind me as I walked onto the field with the general and the prince following.
"General Garrant, your orders?" a young lieutenant asked as he stepped forward and saluted.
"Captain Sapir, this is Lieutenant Wallban and his top sergeant, Silas," The general said, now appearing interested.
"Lieutenant Wallban, I assume you know each of the soldiers here by sight?" I said just to be sure.
"Yes, Captain."
"Good. I want you to walk up to each, inspect him with his helmet off, and give me his name, and Sergeant Silas can have him eject one round from his weapon for inspection," I said.
He looked at me and then the general, who nodded, and then walked up to the closest man.
"Corporal, remove your helmet," he ordered.
The young man snapped to attention and removed the helmet to reveal curly blond hair.
"Manstel," he said as Silas held out his hand for the weapon and then ejected one round. It was clearly a rubber bullet.
As we made our way from man to man across the field, Glick continuously scanned the area while I watched the individual being inspected. When they were nearly half finished, a man toward the rear of the formation, some twenty meters to our left, suddenly shifted his position and raised his weapon to a firing position in our direction.
I swept the legs of Kalom and the general.
Glick and the man fired.
As I finished my 360-degree sweep, I saw the man staggering backward. Glick had hit him in the chest, but he was still standing.
He fired while staggering back from the impact, so he must have been wearing protective gear.
With the prince safely on the ground, Glick and I fired simultaneously. We missed as the man dove toward the ground, rolled, and came up shooting as he ran. The lieutenant went down with a moan.
I aimed for the assassin's thigh, because he was making random moves and the odds of a headshot were poor.
He stumbled when two shots hit his legs, one from me and one from Glick, and after he landed face first on sandy soil, two bullets ripped into his neck.
By now, most of the soldiers were on the ground or frozen in place.
"No one move," I shouted.
A medic was running toward the Lieutenant, who was grasping his side, still alive.
"Sergeant Silas, if you would continue, please. We will get to the dead man in good time."
It took another fifteen minutes to reach the dead assassin. When we did, Silas bent, removed his helmet, and shook his head. "I don't know him." He picked up the man's rifle and ejected a live round, which he handed to the general.
"Captain Sapir, I apologize for placing Prince Kalom in danger. The Black Guard will have my full cooperation." The general shook his head as if to clear it. "You think of the Angels of Death sneaking up behind you and cutting your throat, not killing you in broad daylight amid forty troops. And in the confusion, he would have faded away without notice."
Kalom stood quietly looking down at the dead man. "They're everywhere," he mumbled, a slight tremor in his voice.
Colonel Naxal and I left while Senior Sergeant Judt began a search of the white group.
* * *
"I understand you visited the Angels' intermediary yesterday … the one called the Marquis," Zeruf said after he had finished his breakfast the next morning and settled back with his cup of kaffa.
"Yes, she's an interesting lady. I'd imagine she was a very deadly Angel in her youth."
The varied expressions were interesting: Zeruf looked interested, Kalom frowned in what I took to be anger, and Dulice and Kathyn stared in open-mouthed shock.
"Marquis are just people the Angels pay to arrange contracts," Dulice said as if stating a fact everyone knew.
"Why didn't you kill her?" Kalom struck the table in anger.
"No, Queen Dulice, the Marquis are retired Angels. They are the perfect interfaces, since they are the best individuals to assess the difficulty and value of contracts. And I didn't kill her because that would be like declaring war on the Angels of Death. Right now it's only a contract that involves the king and you. A war would mean open killing of anyone: ministers, servants, military, and civilians in town."
"She's right, Kalom. As much as I would like every Angel of Death executed, we don't need a war with them." The king gave Kalom a wry smile. And then he looked at me. "Did you learn anything useful?"
"Yes. She was very forthcoming, and I came away with a much better understanding of the Angels. Nothing that will help solve your immediate problem, but the more I know about them, the better I'm equipped to counter their actions."
"What about long term?" Dulice asked, picking up on my immediate problem comment.
"On the surface, the contract is forever or until King Zeruf and Prince Kalom are dead; however, if we can keep the king and prince alive long enough, that could change. And no, I do not know how long long enough will be." Too long, I thought, keeping my expression neutral.
* * *
The next several days were uneventful, although each day felt like a week as I racked my brain trying to discover potential weaknesses the Angels could exploit. They hadn't given up, they were just being more cautious now that they were up against professionals like themselves.
That meant they were looking for potential weaknesses, and the attack would be carefully planned. Unfortunately, I thought that meant they would attack the Guard rather than try to get by him.
I had a constant headache until I forced myself to seek the palace chapel and spend the night meditating. It didn't solve my dilemma, but it cleared my mind. Members of my family would die—if not today, then tomorrow—because we were in a dangerous profession. My job was to minimize those deaths while carrying out my duty in the best Jax tradition. Having reconciled that in my mind, I set about trying to determine which who, when, and where would be the most logical weak link. I decided the meeting building was a likely choice.
* * *
"Lieutenant Elijah, if you aren't busy, would you join me at the meeting building?" I had contacted her via my Mfi. She nodded, and I clicked off. I stood in the empty chamber examining the room, trying to find its weakness—every structure had one.
Elijah appeared several minutes later as I stood in the lobby.
"This building has a potential weakness," I said, "and we are going to find it before the Angels do, if they haven't already. I've been told there is a stairway that provides access for periodic maintenance on the dome and windows. Since the windows qualify as a weakness, I thought you and I would have a look." I pointed to a small wooden door on the far wall, which blended perfectly with the wooden paneling.
"It's certainly well hidden, which makes it easy to overlook," Elijah said after a careful inspection of the wall.
She followed me as I opened the door with a key Naxal had given me and entered. The narrow shoulder-wide stairs circled the inside of the building. Until we reached the dome, the passage was dark and cold. Near the top, the stairway became a narrow ledge that allowed access to the windows but was unnoticeable from the room below. Elijah and I traversed the ledge, checking each window, and we found that one of the window frames had been loosened.
"I guess the Angels beat us to it," Elijah said, grinning.
"And I'll bet they didn't need a key to get in," I said. "Well, what do you think?"
"Come early, wait for the meeting to start, shoot the king, and leave by the window. Kind of defeats the purpose of our two guards watching the doors."
"They obviously know we also have two Guards circling the building, so how does the shooter escape?" Part of my function was to train my second-in-command, and part was to listen to my team, since I would never have all the answers.
"Hope the commotion distracts them? … Probably not. They have to assume we are professionals and will hold our positions. A backup shooter to support the escaping assassin."
"That's a logical conclusion, certainly one we can't ignore. However, what if there are two on the stairs? One shoots the king; the other exits and mingles with the crowd, looking for an opportunity to kill Kalom if he is scheduled to attend."
"Or three?" Elijah said.
"Yes. We need to prepare for either or both scenarios. At the next scheduled meeting, two Guards will enter disguised as members of the meeting. They will search the stairway. If it's clear, they will stay. That way they can take turns resting. We will stop the outside guards, secure that loose window, and set a motion detector on the ground floor to give them advance notice if someone does enter."
"We are pushing the troops to the limit with these four-hour shift changes and each person working two shifts each twelve hours," Elijah said with reluctance and concern in her voice.
"You're right to remind me, Elijah. The current two Guards per family member and at exits and extra patrols and randomness is ideal, but over time the strain and lack of rest will affect performance, which will negate the benefits and create a weakness the Angels can take advantage of," I said, wishing I knew how close they were monitoring us. "Talk to the troops. If you or they have any ideas, let's hear them."
* * *
Another week went by without incident, including two meetings. I should have been delighted; however, I wasn't. If I were the Angels, I would intentionally delay the next attack, since it would be reasonable to expect the guards to relax and get careless. The Guard wouldn't, but the long hours and tension of not knowing when they would strike would affect their alertness. I had to do something, but what?
"You seem to have the situation under control, Captain Sapir. Do you think you could relax your surveillance? It's invasive," Zeruf said one morning at breakfast. That appeared to be the time when questions were posed and schedules discussed. Although Zeruf asked, I got the feeling it was Dulice's concern.
"I would love to give my detail a well-deserved rest. In another couple of weeks, the double shifts will begin to affect alertness. I could accomplish that by reducing the number of patrols, guards at exits, and personal guards. But I suspect the Angels have been waiting for one or the other to happen, because they have not abandoned or terminated the contract. Time favors them, not us." I said, still struggling with lousy options.
"I cannot afford the Black Guard forever, certainly not this many," Zeruf said, frowning with the realization we could be there for a long time.
"Your Majesty, contracts with the Angels of Death last until the contracted individual is killed. We apparently all misjudged the situation. The Angels' client got a cheap contract, because no one realized the Black Guard would be involved. He failed to stipulate a deadline, which the Angels are using to their benefit, but had they known the Black Guard would be involved, the cost of the contract would have been much higher. And had the Black Guard realized the Angels were so patient and not time incentivized, the contract would have included more troops. None of us like the contracts we have, but we have no option except to continue—holding a tiger by the tail situation. The client can't complain and has already paid the money. The Angels cannot afford to terminate the contract without destroying their reputation. They can, however, afford to wait indefinitely—but you cannot."
"You can renegotiate the contract, father," Kalom said, frowning.
"I'm afraid the current contract is the best you are ever going to get, so that isn't an option." I held up my hand to stop comments. "One option would be for the Black Guard to train Colonel Naxal's troops to assume our function. That way, you could terminate our contract and have reasonable security." I hoped the king would consider that a possible alternative.
"Do you believe our security troops could provide adequate protection for my family and me?"
I looked to Naxal, who looked to be at war with himself. Pride wanted to shout yes, whereas common sense after watching the Guard knew the answer was no.
"I believe that after some training, Colonel Naxal's security forces could provide adequate protection; however, the Angels would complete their contract eventually. They have experience and time on their side. In fact, given our current numbers, the Angels have an advantage over the Black Guard."
"You're saying you can't protect us!" Kalom came half-way out of his seat.
"Prince Kalom, we will give our lives trying, but the Angels have the advantage. It may take them a month or a year or five years, but if they continue to honor the contract, which they must, they will eventually prevail."
"So there is no solution?"
"Have the Marquis negotiate with their client. Unless their client just hates you and your son, I assume he feels your death will accomplish something that benefits him. Maybe there are grounds for—"
Just then my Mfi flashed and Lieutenant Elijah's face appeared on the screen.
"Captain, Sergeant Peller and Corporal Krebs just killed two persons who entered the meeting building, looking like maintenance workers. Corporal Reti tells me that Krebs will live but his injuries require medical equipment on the Black Panther. I've notified them, and they are sending a shuttle. The intruders had lasers and caught Krebs downstairs resting. Peller was in the dome and managed to distract them and kill one as Krebs crawled to cover. Peller killed the second one when he tried to exit the room."
"Replace Krebs, and I'll want an afte
r-action report from Sergeant Peller." I clicked off. "We killed two Angels in the meeting building. I believe they intended to hide in the dome for your meeting tomorrow."
"Your Guards?" Dulice asked, looking pale.
"One is in serious condition and being shuttled to our ship for treatment. I'm told he will live."
"Surely after losing five of their numbers, they will give up," Zeruf said.
"They can't without losing their mystique. In fact, if they continue and succeed, they will be legends for centuries to come. The Black Guard has endured similar losses. It only enhances your reputation when you fight on against extreme odds or conditions and win."
"That's madness," Kathyn said, looking as pale as her mother.
"So is war, Princess, but we humans appear to love it, based on our distinguished history," I said, agreeing totally. I hadn't volunteered to be born on Jax, nor to enlist in the military. Nor had Jax created the problems they were called on to solve.
"Maybe you should speak to the Marquis for me," Zeruf said, staring into his cup of kaffa rather than look at me.
* * *
"Do you think it will help?" Naxal asked as we were driven into the city the next morning.
"Can't hurt. Unless I'm mistaken, the Marquis would like to end this contract as much as the king." I didn't add and the Guard. "The real question is the Angels' client."
"The client is probably Hylana, in which case King Mador would want King Zeruf to abdicate, which would create chaos in Asina. I guess he would be content if King Zeruf would join his army to defeat Jhina and then submit to his rule." He laughed. "Not very good alternatives."
We rode the rest of the way in silence. Unlike Naxal, I had no expectations about what the meeting would produce. It created less stress if you didn't try to guess the future or worse, want one outcome over another. When we arrived, I again entered alone.
The Marquis rose and came to meet me with her animal following quietly.
"Marquis Sumiko." I bowed in respect, as I did not consider her my enemy.
