The Ambassador's Daughter

by Theodora Lane

  The door was opened by a uniformed servant. “Yes, may I help you?”

  “Ambassador Butler to see Ambassador Pheydor please.” The servant bowed and left to give the message. Stephen and Jonathan glanced at each other, but kept their faces blank. If this were anything like his embassy there would be vidcams watching the entrance.

  After a substantial wait, the man returned. “The ambassador will see you, sir, please come in.”

  They were led into the foyer and then into a sitting room arranged into several seating areas, with couches and chairs centered on a few small tables. The windows of the room looked out onto the street and the curtains had been drawn. Jonathan and Stephen didn’t take seats, but stood waiting.

  After five minutes, Ambassador Pheydor entered the room, jovial and smiling, although looking a little flushed. He greeted Jonathan warmly and shook Stephen’s hand as Jonathan introduced him as his personal assistant.

  “Are you any relation to Duke Alistair Brandon?” Pheydor asked nonchalantly.

  “Why, yes, he’s my grandfather, sir. Do you know him?”

  “Alas, no, I’ve never had the honor, but I have heard of him. He’s a well-known man here on Commonwealth.” He bowed to Stephen ever so slightly. “Now, please be seated and tell me what brings you here, Ambassador Butler.” Pheydor sat in one of the chairs and motioned for the two men to sit on the couch opposite him.

  Stephen moved closer to the door and stood at parade rest as Jonathan took a seat on the couch. He began his speech. He’d thought about what he’d say on the ride over here.

  “Ambassador, I have been approached by several of the others concerning the upcoming tariff on exports. It seems there is a growing movement to try to block the proposal. I had visits from several of the ambassadors trying to gather support for their efforts.”

  Pheydor looked relieved for a moment, and then leaned forward.

  “So you want to know how I’ll advise my government to vote.” He raised his eyebrow in question.

  “Yes. If we can garner enough support, we might be able to stop this tariff in its tracks and force the government to reconsider.” Jonathan put on his most sincere expression of concern. “How say you, sir?”

  Pheydor leaned back and put his finger to his lips, probably thinking how fast he could get rid of them. With any luck, he’d think it just a coincidence they showed up.

  “Century IV, of course, is against it. You have our support to block the tariff. It would be economic ruin for this to pass. We are almost entirely dependent on New Commonwealth for imports, as you well know.”

  “That is what I assumed you would vote, but I wanted to be completely sure.”

  While the ambassador had been speaking, Jonathan had been listening, but not to Pheydor. The embassy was oddly quiet. Not one sound of secretaries muttering, footsteps moving around from office to office, or the console being answered, as if the house held its breath.

  He’d run out of talk, and Pheydor had stood to shake hands and end their meeting. He and Stephen had no choice but to prepare to leave.

  But to be so close to his daughter nearly undid him. More than anything he wanted to pull his Taser, place it to Pheydor’s head, and demand the return of Brett and the duke.

   •●• 

  The other man entered the room. Nestor motioned to the door.

  “What’s going on out there?”

  “Some ambassador and his military escort showed up, asking to see Pheydor. They are talking in the sitting room. I wish he’d get rid of them quickly.” The man scratched his chin with the Taser absently.

  Brett chewed over this new piece of news and wondered who was downstairs. No way it could be her father, or could it? Every fiber in her body told her this was another chance that wouldn’t come again. If she didn’t try something, they’d be dead either way.

  She took a deep breath and let out a bloodcurdling scream. When she screamed for the second time, the two startled men jumped into action and fell on her. Nestor doubled his fist and punched her square in the jaw.

  Her face exploded with pain, tears filled her eyes, and she slid to the floor. She wasn’t unconscious, but her vision blurred and the intense pain sent her belly into spasms, preparing to empty. With her hands and arms bound, she could only lie on the carpet, taste her blood’s metallic flavor in her mouth, and try to keep from retching.

  “Brett!” the duke shouted as he struggled to sit upright on the bed. “You bastards! You’ll die for it.”

  Brett knew someone would die, and she prayed it wouldn’t be the duke or her.

   •●• 

  Jonathan leaped to his feet at the first scream. He’d never heard Brett scream before, but something inside him told him it had been her. It took everything in his power not to draw his weapon.

  Pheydor turned a shade darker red and flinched. Stephen moved closer to the door, straining to hear.

  “What was that?” he demanded. Stephen hadn’t pulled his Taser either, holding back also.

  “Probably nothing, sir, I assure you.” Pheydor waved his hands about as he tried to get them away from the door.

  At the second scream, Jonathan and Stephen barreled through the door and into the foyer.

  “It sounded like it came from upstairs,” Stephen said, looking up the staircase. He’d reached the bottom steps when Pheydor stood in the doorway and yelled at him.

  “You can’t go up there! It’s off-limits!”

  “Sir, there is a lady in danger.” Jonathan glanced up and spotted a man with a weapon at the top of the landing. Two men emerged from below the stairs and pointed their weapons at him.

  “Get down!” he called as he fell back behind the door of the sitting room, pulling Pheydor with him and yanking the Taser from his jacket.

  Stephen crouched at the foot of the stairs and pulled his weapon, aimed, and fired. The man on the landing collapsed. Jonathan fired on the two others, hitting one, but the other returned fire, just missing him. He ducked back behind the door, paused, then leaned forward and fired, taking out the remaining man.

  Instead of staying back, Pheydor advanced on Jonathan, his face furious and blood red, eyes bulging. “You can’t ruin this! I won’t let…”

  Jonathan spun and shot him before Pheydor had taken two steps. The ambassador fell heavily in midstride, landing on the floor with a huge thud. Jonathan gave a satisfied grunt at finally being able to shut the bastard up, then came around the door, his weapon ready, and crouched next to Stephen.

  He motioned with his hand for Stephen to take the stairs; he would cover him. Stephen nodded and advanced up the stairs.

   •●• 

  The duke slid off the bed to get to Brett. Blood poured from a cut near her eye and from her ear. Her nose had begun to swell and the split on her lip was open again and bleeding too. It made him sick to see her hurt.

  “Oh, my dear!” He tried to help her, but he was tied in the same fashion as her. He could only sit next to her. He glared at Nestor, who still held the Taser on them, but it shook badly in his hands. The man who had struck Brett went to the door, cracked it open, and peered out.

  “Looks like they got your brother, Nestor.”

  “Shit! What should we do?” Nestor eyed Brett and the duke, his obvious fear bubbling just below the surface, which in Brett’s book, made him very dangerous.

  “I’m not doing anything drastic unless Pheydor tells me to,” the other man said, shaking his head.

  “Watch them, I’m going out there.” Nestor opened the door and slid out into the hall.

  Brett opened her mouth again and screamed.

  Instead of striking her again, the man cowered against the door, weapon drawn and waiting.

   •●• 

  Stephen made it to the top of the stairs when he heard the heavy breathing. He froze, then slowly dropped into a crouch and waited. When the man peeked around the corner to the head of the stairs, Stephen shot him. He toppled forward. St
ephen signed for Jonathan to advance.

  The door to the room opened, and Stephen spotted another man with a weapon aimed at him. Stephen dodged back just in time for the Taser’s bolt of energy to pass him. The sizzle of the discharge in the air as it passed him raised the hair on his head. He motioned for Jonathan to advance next to him.

  “Second door on the right. Man with a weapon. That must be the room,” Stephen whispered.

  Jonathan nodded. “Cover me. I’m going down the hall to the other side of the door.” Stephen nodded, raised his weapon, and braced himself against the wall. When he was ready, he nodded and laid down a line of fire on the door. Jonathan bolted down the hall and skidded to a stop when he reached the third door. He fell against it and positioned himself across from the second door. They had a crossfire position now and anyone coming in or going out of the room would be caught in it.

   •●• 

  Brett lay on the carpet and focused her eyes on the duke. He smiled down at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “What’s happening?” she muttered, and again spit blood from her mouth as she tried to sit up. It took some effort, but at last she got upright and leaned against the bed, her head spinning. She pulled her legs under her and took a deep head-clearing breath.

  “I think I heard Taser fire, faintly. Maybe downstairs,” he whispered into her ear. They watched as the man opened the door and fired his Taser then closed it quickly as return fire struck the door.

  They grinned at each other. Whoever it was had taken more ground.

  “Shit!” he cursed as he turned on them.

  Brett knew their captor was in a bad situation with two hostile hostages in the room and someone pinning down his escape. His comrades downed. He should be getting very desperate right about now. She needed to get him away from the door so whoever was out there could get a chance to get in here.

  “It’s all over now, you know,” she said. “Drop your weapon and turn yourself in. It will go easier on you.”

  He glared at her and took a step toward her. “Shut up, bitch!”

  “Well, easier than Hugo and Van, that’s for sure.” She smiled, trying to provoke him. It worked. He marched over to her and glared down.

  “I can get you a deal. Make sure you aren’t beheaded for this…incompetence.”

  He lowered his weapon and raised his hand to hit her. This time she flinched, and he hesitated. She screamed. He jumped and brought his hand down toward her, but Brett fell backward as his hand fanned her face.

  The door burst in, and Stephen entered the room low and fast. He shot the man as he spun to face him, and he fell, hitting the bed and sliding off. Brett opened the one eye she could still see out of and smiled up at Stephen.

  “Brett! Granddad!” Stephen called out as Jonathan came through the door.

  “My hero!” She laughed, winced, and then said, “Take care of the duke first.”

  The duke lay back, closed his eyes, and heaved a huge sigh.

  “Brett!” Jonathan cried out. He went to her and knelt by her side. “What did they do to you, honey?” His voice caught in his throat. Stephen cut the cords tying both her and his grandfather.

  “You should see the other guys, Dad.” She grinned at him as her arms came free, and Stephen pulled to her feet. He looked at her but didn’t say a word as he crushed her to his chest. His hands shook just holding her safe in his arms, and for right then, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

  •●•

  Jonathan wanted nothing more than to hold his girl, but there would be no prying Brett from Stephen’s grip, not until he let her go. Again, he told himself Brett had chosen her future husband well.

  So he helped the duke to his feet. “Can you manage by yourself?” The duke nodded, and Jonathan went back to the door and checked the hall.

  Brett and Stephen broke apart, and Stephen tended to his grandfather.

  “We need to get out of here, now, before everyone comes to.” They padded quickly down the hall, and Jonathan checked out the landing. The ambassador’s henchmen were starting to come around, so he stunned them again. They went down the stairs, and he checked on Pheydor, who lay there, out cold. In fact, he looked bad, much paler than the others.

  “Let’s go.” Jonathan motioned them toward the door. The small band followed, with Brett and Stephen supporting the old duke between them.

  He cracked the door open and checked outside. His car still sat there, running, with the driver waiting. He waved to the driver, and they headed down the steps, Jonathan first, followed by Stephen and Brett helping the duke.

  As soon as everyone was inside, the driver sped away from the building, turned on the first street, and headed back to Brandon House.

  “What the hell happened?” Jonathan looked at Brett, then to the duke. The duke’s complexion was gray, and he gasped as he struggled for breath. Stephen pulled out a handkerchief to gently wipe blood off Brett’s face. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  “They wanted the disk the duke received from some guy called Rogers. It has the design for some sort of weapon on it. It was their only copy, it seems.” She smiled at her father. “Can we do this at home, Dad? My head really hurts.” Stephen looked concerned, his gaze searched Brett’s, and his mouth was a hard, firm line.

  No one spoke until they reached Brandon House, only the driver who called the house and told Blalock they were on their way home. The car slid to a stop in front, and the door opened. Jonathan, Stephen, Brett, and the duke, now under his own power, climbed the steps.

  Blalock opened the door with a cry of welcome. They entered the foyer and halted.

  •●•

  Diane stood in the middle of the foyer. She didn’t know how to feel, or which emotion to override the others. Anger, fear, happiness, relief all warred inside her.

  “Where have you been? Oh, my God, Brett, what happened to you?” Her gaze darted from Brett to Stephen, then to her lover, and finally landed on the duke. “Alistair, are you all right?” She didn’t know who to go to first.

  None of them knew about her and Jonathan, so she let out a breath and went to the duke, who appeared to need her the most.

  Supporting him with her arm around his shoulders, she led him into the library and to a large club chair. He fell into it and waved her away. She turned to Stephen and looked at him.

  “Blalock said you took weapons. What were you doing, Stephen?” her voice was very quiet, but inside her heart was hammering.

  “Rescuing Granddad and Brett, Mother.” His reply was weary, as he continued to apply compresses to Brett’s face. Blalock had returned bringing ice for the swelling and fresh cloths for cleaning her wounds.

  Diane turned to Jonathan. “And you! You had me scared half to death.” Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears. Without a glance at anyone else, he went to her and pulled her into his arms. They embraced tightly, and he stroked her hair, comforting her, murmuring softly into her ear.

  She clutched him tightly, as it hit her how terrified she’d been to lose him.

  Everyone’s gaze was on them as she pulled away to look at her lover. She didn’t care if they knew, they’d know soon enough.

  “Jonathan, don’t ever do…” His mouth crushed down on hers, stopping her in midsentence. They kissed for a long, delicious moment, making her forget all the people around her. When they separated, she turned to the others.

  Brett rolled her eyes and smiled. Stephen’s mouth hung open, and the duke managed a small grin.

  “Ambassador! Mother?” was all Stephen could get out as he stared at them. Brett reached out and took his hand, and pulled him close.

  “I think they’re in love, Stephen,” she said.

  His eyebrows furrowed downward, and then his whole face relaxed, slowly transforming into a smug grin. “Ambassador Butler, sir, what are your intentions regarding my mother?” Stephen asked, imitating Jonathan perfectly.

  “Marriage, son, m
arriage.” He held Diane, and she looked at her son and shrugged. Stephen shook his head, went to them, and held out his hand for Jonathan to shake. They shook on it, then he leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek.

  “You have my blessing, Mother. Welcome to the family, sir.” He returned to Brett’s side to finish tending her injuries.

   •●• 

  They gathered in the library, and Stephen explained to his mother their part of the adventure. Brett, her face bandaged, explained briefly how they had been taken. She skirted all the details of the basement because Duke Brandon still looked as if he hadn’t quite gotten over those events yet. The duke spoke in a calm, steady voice about Rogers and the disk, how he’d discovered what the weapon was, and how it worked.

  When they all were up to speed, Jonathan leaned back and rubbed his face with his hand.

  “We need to bring this to the highest authority we can. Diane, can you get us in to see the regent?” The gravity of the situation played over his face, thinning his lips and hardening his gaze.

  “When do you want to see him?” She rose, went to the console, and opened a channel to the Regency.

  “As soon as possible, please. We need to move fast on this.”

  After a few minutes, she had been passed through to her cousin, the queen, and at last, Regent William appeared. He listened to her brief explanation, granted them an interview in an hour, and cut the link.

  Stephen stood. “I have all the data on the weapon on this disk, along with your conclusions, Granddad, and the evidence of the message I decoded. That should be enough, I think, Ambassador?”

  “Yes, between us we should be able to convince him.” Brett had started to make some noise about going, but he turned to her. “No, you need to stay here and the duke’s not in any shape to help. Sweetheart, would you make sure they get all they need, please?”

  Diane nodded, giving each of them a stern look. “Have no fear. I’ll make sure neither of them goes anywhere but to bed for some rest.”

  Jonathan rose and motioned to Stephen. “Let’s go. We’ll take my car. I need to think about this for a few quiet minutes before we arrive. I have an idea forming.” They returned their Tasers to the duke’s foyer table drawer and left. The embassy car waited for them at the front. They climbed in, and he instructed the driver to take them to New Buckingham Palace.