Michael Williamson - When Diplomacy Fails…

“Yes, and that’s good, I hope?”

“It was. She’s a hell of a blaster, glad to have her around. Always reliable. She opened up just a tiny bit last year.”

“Which is huge for her.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said. Then he blurted, “So why is she hitting on me now? I think.”

“Ahhhh,” Jason said and smiled faintly.

The older man leaned back and said, “Well, that probably has to do with you banging the trillionaire.”

Aramis cringed. He hated hearing it put that way, even if he thought that way himself.

“Jealousy?”

“Elke? No. More like ‘challenge.’ Or possibly ‘curiosity.’ If someone who can have anyone is interested in you, there must be a reason. Elke’s rather poor at social cues. That is, she’s very observant about others, but can’t manage her own. So she’s playing her own game.”

“I really don’t think that would turn out well.”

“Yeah, ain’t maturity a bitch? She probably knows that, too. She’s seeing if she can mess with your mind.”

“I’m afraid she’s going to be insulted if I don’t respond.”

“Probably. I don’t have much in the way of advice beyond this. It’s a grudge match.”

“Thanks. Really, thanks, though that last just doesn’t help.”

Franklin Lezt was nervous, and tense. Things like this risked more than one’s job. His appointment arrived, and as soon as the door closed, he tapped on the security field. That and a random hotel should mean they were safe. The heavy drapes were closed, and there was a screen taped to the window as well.

“It’s helping her ratings!” he said. They both knew which it and whom this was about.

Will Hepgard was not the man’s real name. It would do for now. He was too calm as he said, “It’s not an ideal result.”

Lezt tried not to be too uncalm.

“Ideal? The idea was to either disgrace her with photos of her covered in Eco Party green paint or eggs, or have criminal charges against her or those thugs.” They’d spent a lot of money on this. He needed results. He paced around the suite. Then he grabbed a beer. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going to get something positive out of this. He pointed at the well. Hospitality helped.

Hepgard said, “And it didn’t work.”

What a revelation, he thought. “I fucking know it didn’t work!”

“We still have time.” Hepgard reached in, took a beer, thumbed off the lid.

The man was infuriatingly calm, but then, he had half the considerable money already.

Lezt said, “She’s at twenty-three points. We have to peg her back down below twenty or we lose the advantage we paid for.”

Did Hepgard know the significance of thirty points in the polls? Possibly not. So steer away from that.

Hepgard leaned against the wall, clearly wanting a chair. He wasn’t large, but he was soft. He did all his work with terminals and phones.

“We will. We can do some promotion here on Earth, too. And another thought: Her trip splits both her office and her campaign. Can we arrange something embarrassing around her office?”

Lezt said, “Are you kidding? Jaekel’s the real worker. All Highland offers is guidelines, and she can do that just fine from there. It’s probably running smoother without her nitpicks.” Was that useful info to share? Or too useful?

Hepgard nodded and leaned back. “Okay, so we need to focus on her campaign.”

“And besides us, Hunter’s people are about to jizz their pants over her being away. He’s plowing money into ad loads to get a good lead now.”

“A shame that’s all going to fall apart when word gets out.”

“A shame. The week before the election, too.”

Hepgard shook his head. “You like that too much. I want to do it sooner. A month out. That gives time for him to try to justify it, and for all the inquiries to build. Then we have professional outrage people to be outraged. Unless your boss is set on the last minute?”

Lezt sighed. “Look, I’m telling you way too much on this. The SecGen is not the sharpest spoon on the rack. Nor is he the most determined. He’d probably object, and he’d certainly let word slip to someone. They might or might not reveal it, but we’re not telling him. You know Ingo makes most of the decisions, yes?”

“I knew he made recommendations.”

“That’s the official story. No, he’s the brains. Cruk is a pretty face, but too emotional.”

“Is that why he has two types of speeches?”

“Yes, the ones that piss people off are his own cute creations. The ones that sway people are written by a professional who Ingo hired. And we’re not talking about this anymore. What can you arrange on embarrassment?”

“Some amusing ads. I can even pin them on Hunter. Then use her money.”

That was interesting. “Hah. I like that a lot. Do it, and make sure this one works.” Damn, he’d finished a beer already.

Hepgard nodded confidently. “It will. Even if she has a boost now, it’ll all add up to a decline later.”

It was dangerous to meet in person, but there was no way such an issue would ever get discussed over any kind of connection.

“Good. But we need both short term and long term. Trends.”

“I’ll be on it. Thanks for the beer.” Hepgard took one healthy swallow and set the rest of the bottle down.

As the door closed again, Lezt considered. Hepgard could probably pull it off. He’d done a good job with the Eisington campaign, if you measured good jobs by dismal failures that everyone followed in amusement. But just in case, there was another source.

“Yeah, those specialists. They are very good at keeping someone alive, yes?”

“Absolutely. They’ve never lost a patient.”

“Good. Then I want them to proceed. There are going to be casualties, and I wouldn’t want them to die.”

“They’re on site already, of course.”

“Yes, get them in play. Someone’s life is at stake.”

Or would be, very soon.

Jason looked through the inventory to see what they could offer to Das as a diplomatic gift. They’d certainly share intel that would help the military if it wouldn’t hinder them. Ammo or weapons wouldn’t matter, nor most logistical items. Though they did have some sanitized handguns. Those could make useful dump guns for officially unarmed technicians or support troops. They could even be presented casually enough. Three of those, then.

What about staging their own fake attack and having Elke volunteer to help? But that was complicated, deceitful and risky. He had no qualms about cheating, but their position with Das was improved if Das could trust them more than others.

Unmarked bullion and cash. They could spare some, but it would have to clearly be “logistics” and not “cash bribe.” He’d work on that.

Could they spare some tracking units? They had several, and planned to consume/abandon/destroy them as they went. If they could get more in a timely fashion, those would work. Good.

He was jarred from his planning by Elke’s voice.

“We need to talk.”

“Yes, what do you need?”

“My explosives. Did you not know they were canceling my request?” She was agitated, almost fidgeting.

“I put in the request. Alex put in the request. They said they were approving the weapons. They didn’t specifically mention explosives.”

“When did you know this?”

“I knew we didn’t have them when we left Earth. They were supposed to catch up. At no point did they refuse.” He’d gotten every indication the order was in process.

“And here?”

“Nothing in the crates, and no inventory or request mentioning them. Black hole.”

She said, “You knew the ROE, though. That they weren’t allowing explosives other than very small charges for demolition on the controlled range only.”