“If this 'offer' of yours involves much travel, I'm going to have to decline. My first priority is my education.”
Alexandre grinned slyly, “Well, it does involve a small change to your current routine. You return home to Afon and never come back.”
10
Theodore didn't know what to expect, but that certainly hadn't been it. “Excuse me?”
Alexandre's grin became more sinister, “We don't want any trouble, and we are far less draconian than the Bella-Shoana. No violence, no fuss. You just go home and stay there.”
Theodore's mind raced as he tried to soak it all in. After such a cordial opening, the turn of the conversation was still a shock to him. Apparently more of a shock than he realized as when the pair looked up, both fencing teams had closed in on the pair at the table with Bill Burges and the Major front and center glaring down at Alexandre.
“I don't know who you think you are, but no-one tries to rough up the kid. Not you, not now, not ever,” growled Bill.
“Do you have any idea who I work for?” sneered Alexandre.
“No clue! Let's find out; hold him until the Federals get here!” barked the Major.
That was obviously not what Alexandre had in mind as his sneer vanished in a flash... literally.
Theodore reeled in pain as his eyes and ears were overloaded at the detonation of a flash-bang grenade. His armor was up fast enough to soak the secondary concussion wave, but not fast enough to protect from the light and initial sound. His armor extended, his weapons instantly followed, but he was unsure where to direct them, he didn't want to stab at where he thought Alexandre was out of fear of hitting any of the bystanders that had surrounded the table. Confused and befuddled, he held is ground and refused to move until he could make good use of his senses again. That, it turned out, was quite a while.
A uniformed officer waved his hand in front of Theodore's face. Vision slowly returning he nodded and snuck a quick look around. Several of the fencing team were being treated by first responders and a small army of police, local and federal, were fanned out across the room with three standing cautiously in front of him. He sighed and relaxed, just a bit, and let his armor fold away in its comforting blanket of sparks. “I was too slow... If I raised my armor earlier my eyes and ears wouldn't have gotten hurt...” he murmured to no one in particular.
“Theodore Foxdale?” asked one of the agents carefully.
“Theodore Foxdale-Blackford, yes...” His head hurt, a lot. He all but collapsed back into the chair, unaware that he had been perching on the back of it the entire time.
“Can you explain what happened? This 'business man,' what did he say to you?”
“He told me I ought to go home, right away. That his associates were more obliging than the 'Bella-Shoana' or something...”
“'Bella-Shoana?' Is that what he said? Did he provide his name by any chance?”
“Yeah, that is what he said... name... Alexandre Phebeson... assuming that was his real name...”
The two coaches approached and the Major spoke, “We saw the conversation going down and then Theodore here, his fur spiked, so we came en masse to check on him. He tried to name drop, that's when I called on my boys to hold him until you Federals got here.”
“And that is when the stun grenade went off...” finished the agent. “Theodore, son, what in the world do the Bella-Shoana want with you?”
“Apparently they want me dead,” Theodore half laughed half cracked. “Who are they? What are they?”
“The Bella-Shoana are a very large and well financed organized crime syndicate. They have their meat hooks dug in on over twenty systems. They are a minor influence on this planet, but they are gaining strength and presence...”
“So who was this Phebeson character?” barked the Major. “Who is he with?”
The agent shrugged, “We are running his face through the system as we speak. We got a marginal DNA sample from his drink and are processing a blood sample from the balcony below.”
“Balcony?” asked Theodore as he looked out the window. Sure enough, just one floor below was the open air mezzanine for the Student Union courtyard. “Crap. Why couldn't he have picked a table with a three floor drop...”
“He probably chose this seat for that very purpose. He seemed quite prepared. Well, he didn't quite seem prepared for all of your friends to suddenly back you up.”
Theodore fired an inquisitive glance at the pair of coaches, “How did you know I was in trouble?”
The Major laughed, “You are an excellent fencer, lad, but you would be terrible at poker: all your fur shot right up on end.”
He laughed to himself as he looked down at his fur coat, “Yeah.. well... I do that a lot it seems... At least it served me well this time.”
“I think we need to go ahead and move you into protective custody, Theodore. Give us a few days to sort things out, and then we'll see if we can safely get you back to your dorm and regular classes.”
Theodore sighed to himself, “I think... I think it may just be a whole lot simpler if I just go back to the Highlands. If I can get a waiver on my scholarship and try again next semester, so be it. If I can't, well then I'll just stay back home.”
“Hey kid,” began the Major, “there is no reason we should let these people push you around! You have every right to be here and there is no reason you should have to bend to the will of these monsters!”
Theodore shook his head, “I'm a stranger in a strange land. My presence already got some people killed on a different world. There is no reason to put people here in jeopardy.”
The agent smiled, “I appreciate your nobility, but I'm kinda with the Major here... I don't want to see you being pushed around... not on my turf. How about this: give us a couple days to figure out what is going on with you in a safe house and then we will go from there. Push comes to shove, I'm pretty sure the university will work with you on your scholarship. If not next week, then next semester I expect to see you back here. Does that sound all right by you?”
Theodore nodded, “Yes, sir. I appreciate the effort you are going through for an outsider...”
“You're not an outsider, kid, you go to school here. That makes you one of us. Come on, let’s get a patrol car for you,” he smiled back.
Suddenly a local police officer approached the group, “Special Agent Telmark, there was just word from the university. Someone broke into the kid's dorm room...”
The agent snarled and cut loose with a few expletives that Theodore didn't recognize, “Okay, I want three squad cars here, now! Armor up, look alive, let's get the lad to the Federal building downtown. Now, people! Move!”
While the division of authority was quite clear between the federal and local law enforcement, everyone sprang into action: the path was clear and obvious, now was not the time for bickering. Good ideas, however... “Agent Telemark, we have three cars here now, but in five minutes I can have nine. That could give us three separate rabbit trails.”
“Let's do that then; I like the obfuscation! Last thing I want is some pansy, cheap shot going down,” the agent barked back. “Theodore, I have no idea how much that weird armor thing of yours wears on you, but if you think you can keep it up until we get you downtown...”
“It is uncomfortable, sir. It doesn't run me down or make me tired...” smiled Theodore back as he invoked his armor. The few police officers and members of the fencing team that didn't get a chance to see his armor come and go before, watched in awe as it instantly engulfed him once more.
The team and coaches called out their goodbyes as Theodore was escorted down to the parking garage. The local police were true to their word and in well less than five minutes three groups of three squad cars arrived. They were all repulsar cars, floating effortlessly 30cm off the ground. Theodore was a sucker for old fashioned wheels, but these cars could move far faster and turn far sharper, their utility was obvious. He climbed into the back of a squad car and laid down in the back seat. He
didn't know if he was supposed to lay down, but it made sense to him and he definitely didn't want to draw attention to himself. For the first time in his life, he was ashamed of himself. He didn't know why, but there was now a trail of death and destruction following him and... well... it just didn't make sense...
That air of shame and dejection still hung over him as he sat in a plush chair of a lavish apartment. The windows were frosted white... for safety... the whole place had one thing on its mind: safety. Well, that's not true, a visiting dignitary would have felt at home. Theodore just felt worthless...
There was a knock at the door and Agent Telmark entered with two others, “If you are feeling up to it, we'd like to talk with you.”
Theodore just meowed at them and hung his head. That wasn't proper etiquette and he knew it. He just didn't care.
Agent Telmark started to excuse himself when the third man spoke up, spoke up in the Highland Old Tongue, “Theodore, I know you are upset and dejected. We just want to help. None of this is your fault, don't blame yourself. Blame lands squarely on the shoulders of the Bella-Shoana. Not you; them.”
Theodore rolled over and sat upright. He didn't feel like talking, but he really didn't feel like being alone and it was so comforting to be able to speak in his native tongue. “Come in and sit. Sorry for my manners, I'm not feeling much like a host today...”
“I'm Alec Rhys, I'm a consultant for the Federal Special Services. You've meet Agent Telmark, the other here is Agent Falstaff.”
“Sir John Falstaff?” asked Theodore with a grin.
Alec shook his head and grinned, “No, Robert. And I'm certain he's never heard that joke before.” He sat smiling and continued, “Robert works in the Organized Crime Division. We all have questions... You as well as the three of us. You are asking yourself 'why me?' and we are here to try and help you figure that out.”
“Where are my manners...” murmured Theodore as he shifted languages.
Alec grinned, “No! Stay in the Old Tongue. I don't want you to have to think about things across the language barrier. I've spoken this language since I was five, I'm perfectly comfortable with it, and I'd rather you be as comfortable as possible.”
Theodore nodded and watched as Alec produced a small keyboard and feverishly started typing as he talked. “We are going to record this conversation as well. Are you comfortable with that?” With Theodore's nod he continued, “We've pulled the records from the problems a month ago and started running things anew today. Your dorm room was broken into, you heard about that, yes?” Theodore nodded again and Alec continued, “First of all, stop moping: you did nothing wrong! Don't blame yourself for anything; we are here to find out why you are so popular. You have a squeaky clean slate and your tail is bright and combed: you are a model citizen. When model citizens get under the microscope of organized crime, it is usually because of something they know. Something small, some accidental encounter that makes the bad guys nervous. The other reason that comes to mind is you may be getting ready to do something, something that would upset them.”
“But I haven't been anywhere, seen anything out of the ordinary, nor am I planning on doing much of anything! I'm just a kid at the university who's...”
Alec tutted and smiled, “Hey, we know, we know! Oh, by the way, we have food being brought up... Care for Annescalt dumplings?”
Theodore would have made an excellent running for one of Pavlov's dogs as he instantly started salivating! He hadn't had those since he left home! “Actually, yes, please!” Suddenly a thought flashed across his mind, “You are a consultant you said... anthropologist, I assume?”
Alec nodded, “One of many titles... does that bother you?”
Theodore shook his head and laughed, “So long as the dumplings are hot, you could be the town fool!”
They all laughed at that and soon both the smiles and food flowed freely. Alec was a wonderful man to talk to, and while he did prod and poke with a few more embarrassing questions than Theodore would have normally felt comfortable with, Alec did so more like a concerned uncle than a man in law enforcement. Theodore needed that... the comfort of family...
Three hours passed and passed well from good company. Theodore didn't realize he could talk so much, but there is was. Finally he had a simple question of his own, “If I leave presently, is there any chance of picking my scholarship back up once this has all cooled down?”
Alec just grinned, “Normally, no. The TetzWeyr Foundation is very strict about such things. Fortunately, the head of the Foreign Office is also one of the chairs for the foundation. Exceptions have been made! Not that they were ultimately necessary, Major Riggs of the Mikaer Military Academy has also arranged to sponsor you on behalf of the alumni of the Shukurae's 798th CSOG. You have good friends, lad! Be grateful for them.”
Theodore just smiled, “Everywhere I've been, I've meet wonderful people. That's what makes this all so... well...”
“Confusing,” Alec offered. “There is a ship that can pick you up in the morning, if you'd rather head back presently. No shame in that: wanting to protect your friends and classmates. Just promise that you will come back.”
“Thank you sir. Yes, I would love to leave tomorrow. And yes, I will be back!”
“Good lad! Finish up your supper, and good luck on your trip!” They all smiled and smartly departed.
Theodore started to polish off the rest of the food that had been so lavishly laid out for him, it was all perfect! Not only was it food in the style of the Highlands, it was also consistent with food from the region he was from. Alec had really done his research... Suddenly he broke out laughing at the obviousness of it all, Alec wasn't just an anthropologist, he was probably a psychologist as well! He had played Theodore perfectly! That should have made him feel indignant, but no... he needed Alec as a perfect friend and host... even if it was an act. No, it probably wasn't an act. Alec was trying to help everyone...
Sleep soon followed, good food had made that so much easier. But just as the perfect realms of sleep had engulfed him there was a knock at the door... Morning had come all too early.
“Come in,” he called as he sat up in bed.
Agent Telmark smiled as he poked his head in, “If you can be ready in twenty minutes or so, we should be able to get a big breakfast in you before we head to the space port. Same cook as last night!”
“Oh no, just slam my tail in the door,” grinned Theodore. “For that I'll be ready in ten!” He quickly changed and cleaned himself up. A suitcase with his items from the dorm that hadn't been sequestered as evidence had been provided the night before. Such a small case now...
A wonderful breakfast was soon followed by a well escorted trek to the rooftop. Apparently they were taking a repulsar gunship to the space port! He took school-boy excitement in the chance to be on such a craft. His humor was tempered by the serious expressions and even more serious hardware that the soldiers on the gunship handled. These were professionals and they had a task, a goal, to move Theodore safely to the port. It wasn't going to be pleasant for anyone who got in their way. Twenty minutes later the crew's vigilance was rewarded and they safely landed at the space port. Telmark and three other agents then escorted him down long halls and past the busy patrons and their kiosks. They had a transport to catch and little was going to stand in their way.
They cleared checkpoint after checkpoint and seamlessly moved to the far end of the complex. Theodore broke into a broad grin as up ahead he suddenly caught sight of Anna Westmore. Just as suddenly, his fur shot on end and his armor followed: Anna wasn't smiling and the people next to her were armed!
11
Rage is often the enemy of effective combat: it often bids you into actions that are reckless and dangerous, not just to yourself, but to others as well. Rage, combined with practice, experience and superior firepower, however, can be quite remarkable!
There were screams and challenges fired back and forth as Theodore charged straight toward Anna. His armor was ful
ly extended and twin swords now graced his hands and he was on a collision course. Some warning flittered past his ears... one of the thugs ahead made some form of challenge that should have warned him away. One of them ripped Anna's jacket clear, revealing a bomb vest wrapped around her. What type of primitive did they take him for? Apparently they hadn't fought a Highlander before...
Anna would have screamed if she had realized what was going on or what was getting ready to happen. Theodore's right hand blade shimmered and glowed as he fired a crossing blow right through the middle of Anna's torso. All too often people see the blade of a Live Steel Weapon and keep forgetting it is just a projection, a manifestation, into their realm. Had this been sparring practice, the blade would have caused an electric-like sensation of pain, but no damage. This was not sparring practice... If he had been at his father's skill level, Theodore would have been able absorb the bomb vest into his own Live Steel. He was nowhere near as skilled as his father... but he was skilled enough!
As the blade painlessly raked through her torso, it shimmered and ripped the bomb vest off and through her in the same blue glow. Once clear of her torso, Theodore flung the sparkling sword and vest combination clear to the far wall. He pulled her clear from the now thoroughly bewildered thugs and his armor swelled, engulfing her just as the bomb vest detonated. The explosion was crisp and clean, devoid of intentional shrapnel. It had been designed to kill the wearer, not decimate a crowd and Theodore was grateful for that: he didn't want his human escorts to suffer for his actions. The other thugs, however...
Theodore's armor relaxed from around Anna as he quickly stood and spun, firing his left sword into the nearest assailant. His other sword winked back into being in his right hand, while its doppelgänger in his left stabbed through the weapon of a second thug. Precise gunfire from behind him let him know that Agent Telmark and the others were not standing around idle. By the time Theodore had finished his turn and centered himself, it was over. And none too soon.
Theodore Page 5
