Michael Williamson - When Diplomacy Fails…

She looked surprised. “That’s fascinating, and a bit disturbing. What do you have in mind?”

“How good is your driver? Bart and Jason are both excellent.”

“As is Lionel, you know. Do you mind local hostile casualties?”

Highland snapped, “Yes!” as Alex said, “No. Hostiles are fair game.” Inside he grinned. Active combat meant she no longer gave orders. It was almost a fair trade.

Cady said, “Well, we have one vehicle. We’re going to be a clown car with guns.”

Aramis said, “I’m okay with that. Get me there and we’ll make it happen.”

Alex said, “Slow down. Aramis, details.”

The man turned and looked a bit surprised, probably still groggy from his impact.

“Oh, sorry. Okay, we’ll be between three warring factions. There’s lots of cover. We stir up shit, throw it in all directions, then duck. We see who shows up to take care of the Minister, and our best people,” he pointed at Elke and Jason, “ice them.”

Alex said, “That’s your plan?” as Highland said, “That’s your plan? To use me as bait?”

Aramis turned to her and said, “Ma’am, you’re what they want. There isn’t any other bait to use. If we wait, they get you. If we step out, they arrange an accident or incident, and then blame that faction-you can bet it will be one you favor-and move on.”

That was it concisely, and Alex saw no reason to offer additional comment.

She stared, though, and he saw her facade crumble. Her lips trembled, and while she didn’t cry, the fight went out of her.

She spoke, but it was inaudible. He could read her lips. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He said, “Our job is to keep you alive, ma’am. We can do it. Just stay with us.”

She shook her head, trembled more, and didn’t even protest when Shaman slipped over and slapped a patch on her neck.

There was uncomfortable silence for a moment. Principals had hesitated before, but Highland projected such bravado it was odd to see it shatter. JessieM looked stunned herself. Even she’d never seen this type of dissemblance.

“And now it’s time to make that call. Who am I calling? Ms. Highland?”

“Oh… call the Liaison switchboard,” she said.

He unshielded his phone, pulled the contact, waited for connection.

“Colonial Liaison Office, how may I help you?”

“Official request for Special Service protection for Candidate Highland, effective today, with a rating of thirty-two percent in three polls.”

“That’s… I’m not sure who handles that.”

“Chief of mission will work. Put him on, please.”

“Stand by.”

Alex pointed at JessieM. “Announce we’re doing it.”

She nodded and pulled her own phone.

Alex wondered if they were stalling to trace. They’d have to move again quickly, but they did have the vehicle.

A voice came on, “Consul Beaumont. To whom am I speaking?”

“This is District Agent in Charge Alex Marlow, Chief of security, contract, for Minister Highland. We are officially requesting Special Service escort and security for her, as of one hundred eighty days from caucus, with multiple polls showing her above the thirty-two percent level.”

“I see. I can relay that to the Executive Office.”

“Please do so quickly. We’re also publicly announcing the request from both her campaign and our official contacts. I need to disconnect. I will be in touch. Out.” He closed the connection and shielded the phone fast.

“Now we wait.”

Cady stepped in and said, “Well, we can’t wait here. They’re moving and closing as we speak, and we need to be at ground zero, not in a bombed-out ruin three hundred meters away.”

Elke and Bart stepped up, gently took Highland’s arms, and guided her. JessieM followed.

Cady said, “Marlin, get the door. Lionel drives, double up in all seats. It’s going to be a party. We brought you a couple of toys.”

They formed up and moved to the car, which had attracted some attention, and their movement attracted more. Highland went along, somewhat numb even before Shaman dosed her with whatever he’d dosed her with. She seemed lucid, but strangely compliant.

It was more than crowded in the car. The front section had driver and Helas and Edge crammed into one passenger seat, almost making out, with guns pointing across each other. That was nothing on the back, though.

Shaman had one side, with Jessie on his lap. Aramis had the middle, with Highland on his, and he did not look amused. Jason had the outside, with Cady on his lap. He looked a bit uncomfortable. Yeah, all of them found a transsexual a bit odd.

That left the open cargo hatch for Cady’s other three, Bart, Elke and Alex, and a large crate already in place. Elke hung back as others boarded, obviously reluctant to be that close to that many people. She really didn’t like people. It took surprisingly little time to get everyone crammed in, and Lionel drove off mildly, but brought speed up fast. Still, five seconds could seem like an eternity, and could be in an actual fight. The whipping air felt good to Alex as they drove in to what they hoped was an ugly melee all around them.

Wow, phrased like that, it sounded insane.

“Open the crate,” Cady ordered.

Alex and Cady’s man Marlin popped the catches and flipped the lid up.

A Medusa Weapons System, and ten kilos of Composition G for Elke.

“Merry Christmas!” he shouted. “Bart, can you possibly skin into this while moving?”

“If you get friendly together, yes.”

Elke leaned far over Alex, snatched the blocks of explosive in a bundle just like a kid with candy, and drew into a ball against Jason’s seat. Alex moved back against her. It wasn’t an ideal spot, but she’d be more comfortable with him than strangers. Cady’s troops scooted right to the hatch lip, leaving Bart an area about a meter cubical for his bulk and the Medusa. There was just no way that was going to work.

Lionel’s voice came from the cabin, “We have potential contacts left, closing.”

“Also right,” said one of the pair crammed into the passenger seat.

“As long as we’re still moving, we’re good,” he said.

Cady leaned back past Jason’s head and said, “If or when the crowd stops us, you work perimeter.”

“Yeah, switch. Until we’re in cover. Do we have cover? Aramis?”

Aramis said, “That corner has a rebuilt booth arrangement.”

“Good. Everyone understand we are not taking a squat hole. Once pinned down, anyone could hit us with a charge and blame others. Movement is our friend.” He turned. “Elke, do you have your special loads and some jubilee fireworks?”

“Not enough for this crowd, but I can make a hole.”

It all gelled.

“That’s the plan. Once blocked, we make a large hole very fast and move into opposite territory, play the escaping victim card, then repeat, then find a dodge while they’re all killing each other.”

Aramis asked, “And the Paramils?”

“Kill them on sight if you can. That’s my interpretation of Ms. Highland’s orders. If they target her, they are enemies of the state.”

It was disturbing to come to that. Certainly, that was a crime. It wasn’t one he approved of. It was too easy to declare someone outlaw and go after them, but in this case, it did seem to fit. Assassination and power struggles from the administration level to bypass elections and courts were certainly not legitimate.

Bart said, “Here they come, the crowd.” Somehow he was half into the gear. The new generation was lighter and smaller than the predecessor, but still a thirty kilo load. His other gear was stuffed under the seats.

Elke seemed to have distributed the explosive, including giving blocks to Jason and Aramis. She handed one to Alex, then twisted and bent to retrieve Bart’s abandoned gear.