Michael Williamson - When Diplomacy Fails…

The intense jolt made him scream, the pain was in his hip, his muscles cramping up in gripping waves, tight under his balls, and..

“I swear this sick fucker is getting off on being hit. Either I kill him or we stop.”

“He’s not really of use. Hit harder.”

The next blow broke his focus. Ohshitfuckmebitch that hurt. Shooting hand. Writing hand. Hand I used on Caron to… to…

A rain of blows with a hammer started at his feet, ankles and shins, working toward his knees. He could feel tears streaming down his face. He wanted release even if it meant death, because he knew he was crippled, probably going to be emasculated, and left in a heap in a gutter, probably set on fire to twitch and scream, and these fuckers called him a pervert. He was going beyond anything he’d ever imagined, and this wasn’t real, except it was, and Caron’s ass was amazingly toned and taut and…

Two other grumblies arrived mounting guns. They were followed momentarily by two armored hex-wheels. Four machine guns, a grenade launcher and a multicannon were not artillery, but were more than enough for this street. The civilians were surprisingly scarce, having cleared the outside entirely, and probably all hunkered down inside.

An officer swung out easily, in gray splinter camo. That was reassuring. Not only wasn’t it the insane pink, it was private purchase. That meant they weren’t too hung up on Military Instructions, hopefully.

“You’re Marlow?” He was a captain, lean and fit, seemed competent and that scowl was probably permanent. He was an older careerist, face a bit craggy.

Alex said, “Yes.”

“Captain Jay Roye.”

“Glad to meet you; thanks for being fast.”

“Yeah, we’ll cover that later. You have one MIA?”

“Correct. Here’s his info.” He’d have to make sure to recover that later, under BuState privacy laws. For now, he needed to save Aramis.

“Any leads?”

“They didn’t tell you? The same explosive trace you followed should continue.”

“Stand by.” The captain raised a hush hood and spoke to base. They spoke back. He spoke some more.

Alex clenched his jaw and took slow, measured breaths through the anger thudding through him. There was nothing he could do to speed up the process, and any complaints might hinder things. It was almost a full minute before the captain spoke.

“It goes north. Intersperse and follow.”

Bart said, “I will take second position.”

Roye agreed, “Good, do it.”

They found a lieutenant suddenly holding the door for Shaman and Elke, and sliding in behind them. Or he tried to. Elke arranged for him to step in as she slid under, taking the door herself.

“Lieutenant Eranio,” the man said. “I have a briefing summary for you.”

“Go ahead, sir,” Alex said, hoping he sounded polite and interested. Eranio came across as prior enlisted. He wore big glasses and had that scraggle that suggested he’d always be in need of a shave.

Eranio said, “For joint operations in the AO with contract personnel, Military Instructions are in force, and the on-scene military commander will determine operations within standard guidelines. All Law of Armed Conflict and Conventions Pursuant to Hostile Engagements are to be observed. Contractor personnel will limit their activities to observation and reporting, or noncombat support activities as described in MI Two-Five Dash Seven One Nine Bravo. End quote. The captain will not allow you to proceed without acknowledging this.”

“Not only do I acknowledge it, I leave the engagement to you,” he said. Would they take the bait?

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Our specialty is getting people into cover, and as you’ve said, there are Instructions that must be followed. There are undoubtedly multiple hostiles waiting.”

Eranio said, “I understand what you mean.” In moments, he had a hush hood up, and was talking to the captain. Alex was sure of that, because the model was cut rate and didn’t have a shimmer screen. Alex could read lips. They thought it was a shameless attempt to pass casualties and possible blame onto the military.

The lieutenant dropped the hood and said, “Given the nature of the incident, and that it’s your agent who’s the captive, we’ve been instructed from higher up to have you conduct the raid.”

Thank you, Captain Das.

Straight-faced, he said, “If you believe that’s best.”

“No, I’d rather we did it, but I have instructions. You will conduct the entry, we will support and observe, and document.”

There were too many snide comments Alex wanted to make, so instead, he nodded and turned.

“Bart, you’ll punch. Elke, can you make a hole?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Jason takes gun position. Shaman and I follow.”

Elke turned to face the lieutenant. “I need real explosives. Now,” she said.

“That is beyond my authority to grant.” He turned to his phone, but hesitated when the driver slowed.

Jason said, “This is as far as we could trace. We have to dismount and sniff now.”

“You have a sniffer?”

Jason said, “One, yes.”

Eranio twisted his mouth for a moment and said, “We’ll use ours.”

Elke opened the door and slid out, Eranio followed. His troops pulled up right behind and hopped out in a reasonably professional fashion. He immediately gave orders.

“I want one troop with each contractor. Moheng, with this guy, Franklin with the big German, Trinidad with the female, Barnes with the doctor. I’ll stay with Marlow.”

Alex nodded and bounced out the door. They could talk as they moved. “Do you have troops who can follow in our vehicle in case we need a quick departure?

Eranio nodded, pointed at one troop and the Grumbly, and indicated the other driver was to remain aboard his vehicle.

Elke was alongside at once and said, “Lieutenant, I need explosives. I am certified all the way through nukes, and expect a dynamic entry. I will file all documents and our company will reimburse promptly.”

The captain approached, and had obviously overheard. “I can’t authorize that.”

“Then I will use what I have-homebrewed RDX, aluminized AN-nitro dynamite and some rather smoky flash bangs. Unless you want to waste resources restraining me, and breach the door yourself?”

“Goddam you.” He looked at Alex, not Elke, and said, “Allright, I’ll give her a couple of door poppers and they can each have a flash bang. Will that do it?”

She smiled thinly. “Crude and marginal, but I will make it work.”

“I’m only doing this because I don’t want the admin of a dead civilian. But you arrogant contractors need to abide by your own rules. We’re cleaning up your mess.”

Jason burned in rage, but calmly said, “We appreciate it, and will work out details later. Thank you for assisting in recovering our man.”

“Don’t thank me. You can take the risk and lead the way in. Remember the lawyers will have your balls for breakfast if you kill any civilians.”

They were talking instead of acting, but they’d been given something they wanted. Was it a favor, or an error? Either way, he’d take it. They were better at kicking in doors than most of the military, had motivation, and could let lawyers deal with the carnage. Meyer would back them as he had before.

“Then let’s proceed. What intel do we have?”

Eranio consulted with a sergeant holding a chemical sniffer. “Traces are inconsistent. He’s within two hundred meters or so.”

Alex looked around.

“There’s a lot of structure within two hundred meters. What can we rule out?”

The lieutenant was probably being helpful when he said, “You can rule out the law office and the UN aid office.”