The Black Guard: Book III: The Black Mamba (Black Guard series 3)

by CR Daems

  "What about going shopping," she asked. Her voice low, sweet, and submissive. I scanned the room and located the new head of security, Colonel Gordan, and waved him over. He evaluated me as he approached. His long stride indicated he was confident, had good balance, and dangerous.

  "Good day, Colonel Gordan. I'm Captain Sapir." I gave a small bow which he returned, indicating he knew we never shook hands and must have spent some time reading available information about the Guard, confirming he was no fool. "Princess Isobel would like to go shopping, and I would like to understand what that would normally involve."

  He assessed me before replying. "Normally, we would send a detail of four to six men. Two would stay close to her while the other two to four would follow twenty to thirty paces away. The numbers and the tightness of the security would depend on where she intended to shop."

  "Do you know or suspect who would like to kill the princess?" I asked. The attack on Hada had been very aggressive–eight well-armed men and inside the palace. They had to know something, otherwise why the Black Guard?

  Gordan hesitated. "Rebels. Followers of Sachiko Dejesus, who is a representative in the House of the People. He admires a Vargas warlord who ruled over a hundred years ago. His following isn't large enough to challenge the king, or to pull off a coup d’état, but if the king were dead, and there were no heirs…"

  "Princess, where were you planning on shopping?" I asked.

  "The People's Pavilion," she smiled sweetly, which I suspected was her first move in what she considered a more challenging game. I looked to Gordan.

  "It's the newest and largest shopping structure and visited by a diverse group of our citizens."

  "A good place for the attackers to arrange an ambush that overwhelms your security and gets bystanders killed. Sounds like what a responsible leader would want to do for fun." I stood looking off like I was thinking. "Princess Isobel, I'll suspend the contract while you are out shopping and let Colonel Gordan provide your security."

  "You bitch. You're hoping I get killed–" Isobel shouted but I interrupted.

  "No. I'm hoping you aren't attacked because that will mean innocent shoppers and Colonel Gordan's detail will be alive when you return."

  "What about me?"

  "Then you will also be alive," I said and smiled.

  "What if I'm attacked?" Isobel persisted.

  "That depends on your attackers. They will have the overwhelming advantage: they can pick the time and place and will have lots of shoppers to provide them cover. Consequently, they will have the element of surprise. Under similar circumstances, I would use a sniper to shoot, leave the weapon, and disappear in the resulting chaos created by the shot."

  "You're just worried about your reputation!" She spit out in a tirade of anger and frustration.

  "No, Princess. I'm far more concerned about getting Black Guards killed trying to protect someone who has a death wish. The Colonel has no choice but to comply with your wishes. I have a choice."

  "You are a coward!" she shouted looking to shame me into agreeing although she wasn't looking as sure about going as she had been.

  "Princess, I am not suicidal. If you want to play Russian Roulette with your life, don't ask me or the Guard to pull the trigger."

  "You're under contract," she said shifting to a new approach.

  "Only so long as you comply with the terms of the contract. The truth is I would have canceled the contract except I believe your uncle is acting in good faith, understands the threat is real, and wants our protection."

  "You think I'm not?" she pouted and her eyes misted. I was impressed. She probably conjured a scenario where her allowance got cut.

  "You think this a game and all the players except you are expendable. Like in Battle Chess, the object is to capture the king and the pieces are expendable. But the game is to kill the princess. The attackers will be shooting to kill you, not your guards. The pellets they spray in your direction won't care if you are a woman, a princess, good, or evil. They will tear through cloth, then flesh, then into muscle, and finally through your lungs, heart, and lastly your kidneys and spine. Just one pellet can kill you or cripple you for life. But even the pellet that doesn't destroy your organs will leave scars and can cripple you. You cannot outrun a pellet or a laser." I paused as Isobel's face turned ashen and her eyes went wide. "The rebels odds of succeeding double and maybe triple when you leave this building and walk around in the open. Your guards are an illusion of safety. A sniper needs only one pellet through your eye."

  "Happy?" Her amusement had vanished to be replaced by horror then anger. "I'm going to have nightmares."

  "Yes, if it helps keep you alive," I said, pleased that I finally might have managed to convince her she had to be cautious.

  "What about the Royal Plaza?" she asked looking at me, amused but far less so. I looked to Colonel Gordan.

  "It's smaller, the shoppers tend to be more affluent, which would make the attackers more conspicuous, and it's one level so snipers have no high ground." He shrugged, awaiting my comments.

  "Can you get me six outfits which will be consistent with the typical shoppers at the plaza? That way we can shadow you while making it appear she has only a normal palace detail accompanying her. A smaller detail could make them more confident and less careful."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vargas: Shopping can be Dangerous

  I accompanied Senior Sergeant Zina and her entire detail to the Royal Pavilion. With that many Guards, we could rotate the individuals shadowing the princess's security and minimize the chances the extra security would be identified. In addition, there would be several available to roam, attempting to identify trouble before it got close.

  At the Pavilion, I could detect no distinct style of clothing. The shoppers wore clothes that were better tailored and the material more expensive. The salespeople were immaculately dressed and the shop's displays arranged to excite the senses. There were stores on both sides of the walkway, which could accommodate ten shoppers abreast, designed to look like an outside park with grass, trees, and streams with fish and water birds. The plaza felt old, elegant, and a place where you could stroll and relax.

  The princess was obviously a frequent customer who did more than look, judging by the attention she got in each store. The attention explained why she liked to shop. It made her feel special. She certainly didn't need more clothes. I chose to roam, hoping to identify trouble before it found the princess's detail. The rebels might dress consistent with the other shoppers, but I thought they would stand out in any case: looking at the people and not the shops, clothes that appeared to be hiding weapons, and expressions that didn't fit with shopping. As the hours passed, I became more concerned. It would take a watcher time to contact his group that the princess was at the pavilion and for the group to get organized; nevertheless, they were way overdue. I doubted we were just lucky and no one was watching. Isobel loved shopping and wouldn't miss too many days. The only question would be where, and there were only five major shopping areas in the city. Then I saw a group that fit my paranoia profile. There were around ten men and three women. Three of the women immediately left the group. Each woman chose a wing and began looking into the stores as they passed. Since I knew which wing the princess was currently in, I followed the woman who went left into the Frederika Wing. The three wings were named after former queens, Frederika, Kathrynne, and Octavia. Frederika had been the wife of King Anthony, and noted for her love of nature. Accordingly, the wing had a nature theme complete with trees, grass, and small rivers and ponds. The three women dressed in blouses and skirts similar to many of the other women shoppers, but they weren't as new or the same expensive quality most wore. It was obvious to anyone watching the woman I followed that she wasn't shopping but rather looking for someone. She entered each shop making sure she looked into each section, then exited and walked briskly to the next store. Halfway into the wing she spotted two of the princess's guards stationed at the entrance to E
lla's Secrets, which looked like undergarments and nightwear from the fairy-like mannequins in the display window.

  She had found the princess and should have returned to report to the men who were waiting and undoubtedly armed with Mfws or assault weapons. The fact that she didn't, but rather entered the shop, made me nervous, so I followed. Inside, the walls were lined with wooden cabinets with pictures attached to each. The pictures were of women wearing one or more articles. Touching the screen activated the picture and initiated a one-minute clip of a woman dressed in the article while walking, dancing, or lying on various objects. If the customer was interested, an assistant would open the cabinet and exhibit the article in various colors and sizes.

  The princess stood at one of the cabinets being shown a variety of lace lingerie. Isobel took one of the articles and walked over to a full-length mirror. The woman from the group joined her.

  "You would look gorgeous in that," the woman said as she slid a stiletto from inside her shirt. She then suddenly grabbed Isobel by the hair, jerking her head back, and raised the stiletto to cut her throat. But Zinn stopped the arm with her right arm and slammed an open palm strike to the woman's temple. The blow jerked the woman in a half circle, and she bounced off one of the cabinets as she crumpled to the floor. The woman's stiletto lay at Isobel's feet.

  Isobel look down at the stiletto and then the woman. Her face showing her changing emotions: horror, fear, relief, and finally a small smile on her flushed face. "Captain Sapir, you could have stopped her before she messed my hair."

  "I was going to let your security stop her," I said looking serious, although the expression of shock on her face made it hard.

  "They didn't notice her," she shouted looking toward the two palace guards standing some ten paces away. She relaxed and stared at me for several minutes. "You wouldn't have." She gave me a forced smile.

  "Maybe not." I wandered out into the plaza, hoping the incident would make her realize the seriousness of her situation. "Colonel, let's try and get the princess out of here without a shootout," I said, when I found him outside the store scanning the area.

  "How?" He continued to scan the area. "That woman must have others with her."

  "Yes, there are ten men at the entrance. They sent a woman into each wing to find the princess. When this one doesn't return, they will be coming," I said hoping he wasn't looking to fight unless he had to. "You and your men stay with the woman. I'll take the princess into one of the stores and hide her. They'll see you and should ignore the stores thinking the princess is with you. When they pass, we will take the princess to the shuttle and return to the king's residence. I doubt they will want to die fighting if the princess isn't present. The woman won't be worth it as she disobeyed orders and caused them to lose their chance to kill Isobel."

  The colonel nodded after only a short delay. He had two men stand over the woman while the others spread out several paces and faced back toward the plaza entrance. A sizeable crowd had accumulated about thirty paces away from the guards and backed up another twenty when the guards drew their Mfws. They took little notice of the princess sandwiched between Zinn and me as we walked through and into a men's sports store.

  "Unless you want your store destroyed by gun fire and people killed, I suggest you act normal," I said and pushed the princess into an area where men's suits were hanging." I clicked on my Mfi. "All Guards, mingle with the crowd watching the palace guard and support them if the rebels attack." Several minutes later, the ten men and the two women passed us, pushing the watching shoppers aside. When the people saw they had Mfws, they retreated. Zinn, the Princess, and I followed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Vargas: Colonel Gordan

  Colonel Gordan, had been in palace security all of his adult life. He had joined the Vargas military as a young man of seventeen. As a youth he was wiry, agile, and excelled at basic training, and subsequently on the job which earned him recognition and promotions. Several years of dedicated service, and a reputation for hard work and getting the job done, made him eligible for the elite palace guard. There he rose to the rank of senior sergeant, and after he foiled an assassination attempt on the king's brother, he was promoted to lieutenant. He was strict but fair and flexible which made him popular with his men. Over the years he foiled several more assassination attempts that earned him the position of second in command and Colonel Dogar's logical replacement.

  Unlike Dogar, he didn’t object to the presence of the Black Guard. Although King Machodo was a reliable ruler, his niece was universally disliked, and the idea of her being the next ruler had galvanized the radical members of Vargas who wanted a stronger ruler and military. As a result, assassination attempts were no longer one or two unstable individuals but organized military operations which the palace guard wasn't equipped to handle. When they failed, heads would roll regardless of the fact that they weren't staffed, trained, or equipped to handle those kinds of attacks. Gordan was smart enough to know after they killed Isobel, the king would be next and that would be bad for the country.

  Gordan stood with warring emotions over the unconscious body of the rebel woman. Her confederates would soon be approaching, thinking Isobel was with her security. If he fought, some of his men would get killed, but it was an opportunity to weaken the opposition to the king. If some survived, he might be able to learn the names and locations of other members. Captain Sapir had left four Guards with the crowd which would mean he would have the attackers in a cross fire and the Guards were deadly shots as Dogar should have realized. The Black Guard wouldn't be staying for long as they were very expensive. So, Gordan had to take whatever advantage of them he could.

  As the rebels pushed through the crowd and drew their weapons, the crowd receded. His detail had found partial cover behind cement fountains and other decorative metal animals. The twelve rebels stood forty paces away, and four Black Guard in civilian clothes mingled with the watching crowd some forty paces behind the attackers, completely ignored.

  "You and your men may leave, Colonel, unharmed if you leave Isobel and our companion," one of the rebels offered, as his eyes scanned the palace guard for Isobel.

  "Fire," Gordan shouted and his troops opened fire. Three rebels went down as the crowd of spectators scattered in panic. He knew several of the spectators had been wounded, maybe killed, and hoped none of the Black Guard had been hit. He knew that might happen although he had insisted his men set their Mfws to single shots. His men weren't expert shots; therefore, even on semi-automatic their Mfws would spew over a hundred pellets per second, and the pellets which missed their intended target–the majority–would be potentially lethal for several hundred meters. A second later, the Black Guard fired while seeking cover.

  "Cease fire," Gordan screamed in disbelief. All the rebels were down but his men were still firing. The Black Guard where now nowhere to be seen. He had no doubt an examination of the bodies would show the Black Guard had killed, not wounded, the remaining nine rebels as they moved to avoid his men's fire. He and his eight men only managed to bring down three rebels shooting from a standing position. The Black Guard had killed nine while moving. He was glad the Guard was here. He and his men weren't ready for the rebels.

  * * *

  As we reached the lobby and the exits, I could hear the Mfw fire sounding like a New Year's celebration although it lasted for less than a minute. Bystanders were bound to have been injured and maybe killed. Why people on every system insisted on staying to watch a confrontation with armed contestants was beyond me. Most semi-trained shooters left their weapons on automatic which meant fifty to one hundred percent of the pellets spilling out missed their target and continued on their mindless way until gravity pulled them to the ground a thousand meters away or they were stopped by an object of sufficient mass–like the idiot who thought he was a spectator when his presence made him an unarmed participant–a live target. The four Guards I had left to support Gordan would have reduced the number of injured and killed, but an
y casualties were a result of Isobel's insistence on going shopping. I could understand the rebels dislike for her since she thought the citizens of Vargas were expendable in the pursuit of her pleasure. Except for Duty, I think I would paint her red so the rebels had a better target. I smiled at the thought. In fact, the Jax protected many unfit rulers and important but nefarious people. To do otherwise would mean we would be in the business of deciding who was good and who was bad. But what constituted bad? In the end that would come down to imposing the Jax's standards on the universe and taking sides with rebel groups, who for all their rhetoric, were usually as undesirable as the ruling party when they came into power. No, it was easier to support the ruling government. That wasn't a perfect solution, but it made the Jax predictable, dependable, and sought after by those who had the money to afford our exorbitant fees.

  I lay awake for some time pondering how Choje Abhaya, my Buddhist friend and mentor, could reconcile life as a Buddhist in the Black Guard. I fell asleep looking forward to my next meeting with him.

  * * *

  "What happened, Colonel Gordan?" Machado asked. He had requested Gordan and I join him in his private office on the third floor. Although it had a large black-wood desk, the room looked more like a good room for relaxing with its stuffed chairs and an entire wall of leather-bound books. Even the pictures scattered around the available wall space were serene and calming: a deer and its fawn drinking from a small lake in a green valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains, an old sleepy village at daybreak, a woman sitting on a grassy lawn in the shade of a massive oak reading to a young child. The pictures gave the impression of being from long-ago, when times were slower and more peaceful. "I'm told the palace guard began the shooting which resulted in the death of two shoppers and six others wounded."