Michael Williamson - When Diplomacy Fails…

The military, however, hadn’t had notice, and clutched for gas masks, shaking and retching, faces in gruesome masks. Aramis had had a bare whiff in training, for familiarization. He felt sorry for the poor bastards.

One debarked from the vehicle ahead and ran straight across the road into a building wall. After a few seconds, three of his buddies advanced to him, forced his mask on while he thrashed and panicked, then ferried him back. Even through their masks, Aramis could see the mean looks.

Elke kept the grin off her face. It was always delightful to see a weapon work to best effect, especially an invisible one. Half of those primitives had no idea what had happened.

She hoped the troop was well. The chaos of engagement led to such things, but the participants never found them funny at the time.

Alex was on phone. “Yes, I understand. Stand by, please.” He looked up at Highland, and said, “Ma’am, the road is completely blocked by rioters. I recommend we back out slowly, to avoid injuring anyone. We can speed up if our safety dictates. This is why I was hesitant earlier. I’m less worried about us than the outcome of dealing with civilians. Alternately, we can attempt to push forward.”

“It sounds as if you’ll be pushing either way, so forward.”

“Very good,” he said to her, then resumed on the radio. “We’re going forward. Slow and steady. Yes, stick with masks. I apologize for that. It came up suddenly.”

From the other side of Highland, Jessie said, “I can’t get any signal. Are you blocking me?”

Elke said, “I am not, but it would not surprise me if the locals have set up signal jamming and spoofing. Alex’s phone uses tough algorithms, but it isn’t impenetrable.”

Alex stiffened, said, “Thanks,” and called back to the forward vehicle. “This is Playwright. There’s a strong possibility our signals may be jammed. If so, proceed on last… hello? Lieutenant? I am unable to receive, but will continue with my instruction. Proceed as discussed, and look for hand signals from driver. Playwright out.” He looked up. “Well, this is going to be interesting. I want to get Ms. Highland and Jessie in unharmed. I want to minimize harm to the locals. Is that clear, Elke?”

“Of course,” she agreed. That’s what he always wanted. She’d do so if she deemed it advisable, but this was a riot, and riots generally deserved to be put down.

Alex continued, “Dump guns can be used for distraction. Elke, be ready with nonlethal smoke and bangs, please. Reserve hands-on force for Ms. Highland’s safety only. Ms. Highland, we are attempting to drive into the conference. We may need to debark and walk a short distance, probably not over one hundred meters. You may need your protective mask.”

“I understand,” she said, and smirked. She actually liked the idea of getting into a fight. Elke decided she wasn’t all bad after all. Though of course, Highland’s goal was PR. Elke’s goal was hurting people who needed hurt.

She watched principal peripherally, and gave most of her attention out the window. The windows were high quality one-way transparencies, so the crowd had no idea how their antics were perceived. On Celadon, they’d escalated to urination and very disgusting gestures. Here, they settled for childish faces, hand signs, and waving placards. It was so sweet that they thought anyone cared.

Still, they increased in number and density. She revised her estimates on everything from smoke to concussion charges, and waited.

Lionel called back, “They’re swarming in close. If I continue, I’ll be pushing people aside, and some may fall. If I stop, we won’t be able to proceed. They’ll probably lie down in front of us.”

Jason said, “Given the cultures, I expect some of them are quite willing to be martyrs for visibility.”

Alex said, “Move until you have to stop. We’ll repeat the gas then. I don’t want to overuse it.”

That was why he was in charge, Elke reflected. Her reality did not match the illusion created by governments and media. She’d simply escalate violence until everyone left or was dead. Few people, and no governments, had the moral strength to do so. Still, she’d hope for her small part to play.

Jessie shivered, and Highland twitched now and then, seeming quite nervous. Facade aside, she obviously saw the real world threat here.

Lionel said, “I’m blocked. Solidly penned by bodies.”

“Pop gas,” Alex ordered.

Once again the crowd shrieked and ran. However, thumping noises indicated people collapsed against the vehicle.

Lionel said, “Front wheels are blocked. The subjects are persistent and seem to have restrained themselves.”

That was a very calm report for an incident that was about to get exciting.

Alex said, “We’re proceeding on foot. Nonlethal force only. Elke, note that.”

“Nonlethal,” she repeated. That was frustrating, but she had nonlethal toys she wanted to bring into play.

“Ma’am, Elke will lead you. Hold onto her jacket. Jessie, hold onto Shaman’s. Bart and Aramis lead. Jason right wing. Lionel, proceed when you can. If they refuse to yield, call me and the military.”

Everyone shuffled around, bracing, clutching and ready. They all held stun batons and Elke had her fingers on a fun gadget she hoped to use.

Alex said, “Report if not ready… go.”

Aramis raised the door and sprang out to the rear. Bart shoved his way out and around forward. Elke followed, feeling Highland’s hands on the tail of her coat. I bet the bitch is glad of the suit now, rather than some stupid robe, she thought.

Behind her, Alex went out the other door.

The crowd was well-distant, and the humid air still bore a whiff of… ugly. There was no way to describe that manufactured smell, but even parts per billion were awful. They moved forward as Aramis zapped one of the bodies at the front of the car. Yes, the blazen had wedged himself in tight, so he couldn’t disperse when the gas hit.

She zapped him again, just to make sure, then joined the formation as they jogged forward. It should take only a half minute to reach the gate. The security guards there were locals, and made no effort to extend a safe corridor. Elke had expected them to be useless.

The crowd started to collapse back in, shouting angrily. It was probable some of Highland’s fans had taken badly to being stink-gassed.

Alex had said nonlethal, and Elke complied. She tossed one disk left and behind, the other right and behind.

“Watch eyes,” she said, a half second before they ignited.

They lit, and behind her, Alex swore. They were visible even in daylight, thought granted it was overcast.

The hundred bulbs in each ignited over the span of two seconds in a chain of reports. They sounded a lot like automatic weapon fire. However, they were mere noisemakers, plus zirconium dust with some enhancements. Anyone looking at that should be flash-blind for several minutes, because the output was close to 5000 lumens. There was also a strong chance of epileptic response.

In fact, as they passed the leading Grumbly, one of the troops swayed and collapsed. They were certainly taking a beating on this simple convoy trip.

Still, the team reached the gate unharmed, which was the point.

“Open, please,” Alex said. Yes, they’d actually kept the gate locked and closed. Elke turned to keep herself between principal and crowd, and they huddled around their two charges. The mob seemed well-cowed at this point, refusing to approach, but settling for hurling gestures, epithets and the occasional chunk of garbage.

Eventually, the simpering monkeys rolled the gate just enough to allow the party to back through individually. Elke squeezed her shoulders past the polymer columns, and they were in, surrounded by media. While she appreciated their ability to ablate explosive threats, she had no other use for them.