Retribution

[Kandarin]

“I want,” ‘Lucy’ began, “a little thing. Something trifling, really. You probably won’t even miss it. Of course, some would say things about…long-term consequences…” As she spoke the word ‘consequences’, flames suddenly licked up the surface of an entire shelf, engulfing the papers within. “…but if you were concerned with that, you wouldn’t have done some of the things you’ve done, would you?”

She held out the newspaper again. “Your people set that fire. You want certain people eliminated, certain things destroyed. I can help. I can do a lot to help, if you’re willing to pay my price.”

“I ask only that I have access to something that’s yours by Law. I have to follow the Law, you know! I ask only…for the rights to a number of places deep under your country. They’re far too deep for your people to be able to mine them anytime soon. But for my people, it will be quite easy.”

“What?!” ‘Lucy’ smirked at the expression on Minister Truscott’s face, which was a combination of horror and confusion. “What did you think I was going to ask for?”

[Kangarawa]

The Parliament Buildings, Tasman City
Office of the Minister of the Interior

Having just recovered her equanimity, Truscott found herself totally at a loss trying to follow Lucy’s explanation. The flames that had erupted on the word “consequences” had caused her to lose her concentration, but had also resulted in her losing what vestiges of control she had left on her temper. Anne was completely horrified at how much this damned woman seemed to know; even she didn’t know for certain that they’d been responsible for the fire, and here was this … Lucy … talking not only about the fire, but about other things as well. Long-term consequences? What in the name of Profer did she mean by that? And who was to say that they couldn’t take advantage of whatever she offered and then renege on the deal …

“I had absolutely no idea what you were going to ask for, but once again, put out your damned flames if you want to continue this conversation!” Taking a shaky breath, shaky as a result of anger as much fear, Truscott refrained from looking at the flaming shelves again and stared at the woman in front of her.

“Now, you’ve said you want something, something that can only be given to you legally if I understand you correctly. In return, you’ve indicated that you could do a lot to help. Why don’t you get right to the point? I’d like specifics.” Pausing momentarily, Truscott realised she’d basically admitted culpability, and quickly attempted to backtrack.

“Assuming I know what it is you’re talking about, and I’ve not admitted that I do, why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you want, in plain language with no more pyrotechnics, and then explain exactly what you could do to help.”

[hr]

Department of Defence, Tasman City
Office of the Under Secretary of Defence, 5:25 PM

“General, can you repeat that?” The look of dismay on Hayes’ face was palpable.

“No, I’ve not even seen it. Nothing’s come across my desk, and it would have come through me before going to the Secretary. You’re saying the Coocoostanis gave us a carte blanche to take out the group that bombed the Embassy and that we turned it down?”

“Stop right there. Are you on a secure line?”

“I’ll get back to you A.S.A.P.” Hayes hung up the phone abruptly, and immediately dialled the secure line to the President’s office. After only a single ring, Mappins picked up.

“We’ve got another situation on our hands, Peter. McKinstrey has just been contacted by a General … hang on … wrote it down … Lee Murphy, Chief of Staff of the Coocoostan Military. Apparently …” Hayes relayed the message McKinstrey had passed on to him. At the same time, he told Mappins about his meeting with David Miller at lunchtime, and the offer made to the Ambassador in Coocoostan.

For a few seconds there was silence on the end of the phone before Mappins spoke, his voice laced with anger. “Any idea of who could have intercepted the original message?”

“Not yet. Called you first and I wasn’t sure if you wanted to tip our hand or not. Fisher has one of his guys down in Communications. He’d be the one to start making discreet inquiries. In the meantime, how do you want me to handle this?”

“There were no leaks regarding the rail-gun attack on the old barracks outside Lake MacQuarrie. Think we’re still secure there?”

Hayes grinned wryly as he responded. “Well, seeing as you haven’t approved any increase in either staffing or funding, I suspect that might be a safe assumption. Why? Want our satellites taking a look as well?”

“Can’t hurt, and get in touch with the Coocoostanis. Don’t go through the Communications Centre until we find out what happened. Take them up on both of their offers. Let the police captain know about our concerns regarding Kostrov, and tell the General we’ll take action on the camp sometime within the next few days once we’ve confirmed it’s still in existence. If someone’s said “no” on our behalf, you can bet your last wazoo that camp’s already on the move.”

“Right. I’m on it.” Grimly, Hayes hung up one secure line only to begin dialling on another.

[Reziel]

Some 150 kms NE of Tasmin City
20000 feet high in the sky

When the “fasten your seat belt” panel lighted on, Lachdanan slightly frowned: according to him, they were still a bit too far away for the beginning of the landing manoeuvres. Glancing all around the plane, he noticed the hostesses had already reached their seats, just as the silent NISA agent who had remained silent for almost the whole air trip. Before sitting down, he checked the seat belt of a sleeping Marilyn Janus, then glanced outside the small plexiglas window, thus finding the anser he was looking for. All around the small Gulfstream III dark and thick cumulus clouds were the sign of an incoming turbulence, if not of a real tempest.

Silently cursing against their bad luck, the New Iremian Archangel gently shook his head, understanding his hope to enjoy at least one hour on the beaches of Tasman was becoming a bit more feeble with each passing minute.

[Kandarin]

“Fine.” ‘Lucy’ snapped her fingers, and all the fires in the room went out, leaving everything they had appeared to burn unscathed. In the place of the fire, an icy wind blew through the room, until she thought better of it, snapped her fingers again, and made that stop as well.

“Fine, fine. Where do you keep maps? Do you have any?” Truscott impatiently pointed to a cluttered corner, where several rolled-up maps of Kangarawa leaned. ‘Lucy’ unrolled one and pointed to several mountainous spots near the northern borders. “I need mineral access to here. Here, here, and here. Like I said, they’re so inaccessible that it’s not really a loss to you anyway.”

“As for what I can do for you…that really depends what you need. My organization is very good at getting rid of things and people, but it’s up to you- or your superiors- to tell me what things and people you might have in mind.”

[Kangarawa]

Lucy was right. The mountains to which she was pointing were completely inaccessible, and probably would be for decades and decades to come. Then again … Truscott glanced away from the map momentarily, letting her gaze sharpen on Lucy. Kandarinese, perhaps? It would certainly explain why she said her people could mine them, and the Kangarawans couldn’t. But maybe …

Looking back at the map, Anne nodded. “It’s possible that the Kandarinese could purchase those rights. Or rather, that you, in particular could purchase them. I’d have to check with … another … as to what the purchase price might be, but I don’t see a problem with what you’re requesting. Where can you be reached?”

[Kandarin]

The Parliament Buildings
Tasman City

“I’m sure they could. But if it’s me you want to talk to, call this number.” ‘Lucy’ took a pen from Truscott’s desk and scrawled a telephone number with an FPSian area code in the corner of a form. “Tell them I sent you. Nice doing business with you.”

And with that, she vanished into thin air, with not the smallest display of pyrotechnics to accompany her departure. She took the pen with her.

---

Cruiser Khodorkovsky
Holding orbit over western Kangarawa

“Traveler incoming, bay 3. Repeat, incoming traveler, bay 3.”

The comm officer’s announcement echoed through the ‘departure bay’ with a feeling that belied its genuinely quiet nature. Everything seemed louder ever since the ship been ordered to silence its drives and most of its communications.

The order was a matter of security. Many forces employed by advanced nations counted on sophisticated stealth systems to mask themselves from those with more mundane technology. The Kandarinese had long since learned that such arrogance tended to have unpleasant results when combined with reality. As a result, this ship employed an amazingly simple stealth technique. While drives, radio waves, and large power systems were easily detectable, a mostly inert mass- even a million and a half tons of warship- was not.

“Do you think I overdid it?” Lucille Haskalah, Lady Secondary of Chiron, owner of the ship, and occasional method actor, popped suddenly into existence in the middle of the chamber.

“Absolutely not, my Lady.” Her Adjutant, a slightly older looking human man, said with an air of absolute certitude.

“And the non-flattering version?”

“You overdid it and you always do.”

“Thanks. You know I always want both sides.” This had become something of a game for them since Haskalah’s last Adjutant had resigned three years previous. “Notify Timoske. Tell him we have a go and to wait for a call from Schmidt. I’m going to go change into something more comfortable.”

[Kangarawa]

The Parliament Buildings, Tasman City
Office of the Minister of the Interior

Truscott’s face was a study in contradictions. Shock at the sudden and unexpected “method” of departure of her ‘guest’, relief at finally being alone, worry over who she was dealing with if not the Kandarinese and dismay at how much she might have given away all fought to express themselves in her face. Finally, she unlocked the middle drawer of her desk, withdrew a beautifully scrolled flask and took a long draught. Replacing the flask, she sat silently as the warmth worked its way down trying to work out the best way to approach her colleague. Dinner, perhaps. We’ve been friends for years … maybe a small group … far simpler than anything else.

As she picked up the receiver of her phone and began dialling an internal extension, she methodically opened the right-hand drawer of her desk and removed a small micro-cassette recorder, ejecting the voice-activated tape. Easy to pass off if she needed to, and she knew she would.

“Michael, Anne Truscott. Would you mind reminding the Minister about joining us for dinner at the usual place? It’s been a long time since a group of us got together. … Good. … Thanks.”

[hr]

The Presidential Residence, Tasman City
9:15 p.m.

Dinner had been a relatively silent affair, even given their affection for one another. Truth be told, Peter simply didn’t know what to say other than to offer support. He was simply glad that Chantal had agreed to leave her room and join him. Chantal talked sporadically about milestones; when Michaela had first said “dada”, first walked, first run. She spoke of how she and Dave had met and had even chuckled when she told Peter how much she’d initially disliked Dave. Gradually though, she’d grown silent.

Now, sitting in the library, fire crackling, Peter poured both of them a brandy and walked over to his desk, picking up the messages of condolence and the small package that had arrived. Watching him, Chantal closed her eyes briefly, put down her snifter, and accepted the stack from his hands. Without looking at the pile she’d just accepted, she looked directly into his eyes, speaking quietly but forcefully.

“You’re a good listener, Peter, and don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I do. But by now, you must have some answers regarding what happened. I want to hear them, and I don’t want them sugar-coated.”

Mappins sighed. It was what he’d hoped she’d say, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“The fire was definitely arson, despite what the Fire Marshall agreed to report. Both the Coroner and Charles believe your family was drugged. That’s the reason they were still in their beds. Two of Charles’ agents, the two who were off-duty and would have been sleeping were shot in the back of the head. The other two are missing. We’ve no idea what that means, but Charles is looking into it. I suspect you can guess at the possible scenarios. One, both or neither of them were involved but they let in someone they trusted. In any event, the fire alarms, security systems … everything was dismantled. It was done by a professional, Chantal. Nothing could have been done even if the fire department had been on the scene within two minutes of the fire having broken out.”

Again, Scythes closed her eyes. Peter expected tears, but when she opened them again, he could see nothing but a flash of strong emotion; not even he could tell what she was feeling. He studied her as white knuckled, she started to read through the telegrams and letters she’d received. It wasn’t until she spoke that he realised that her eyes were conveying sheer, unadulterated rage.

“From Kadras, Peter. A truly lovely man … “

“The Lazlowian Government, Matt Terrus and his cabinet,” Chantal chuckled slightly. “He’s a true charmer, that one.”

“From Rachel.” With slightly unsteady hands, Chantal put down the note she’d finished reading. Picking up the small package, she started to unwrap it.

“Rachel?”

“Rachel Penteleimon. Minister of Foreign Affairs of Kandarin. We met in Dovakhan not all that long ago and …” Chantal paused to open a small box, staring at it’s contents. Tears springing to her eyes, she carefully lifted out an exquisitely crafted necklace made of platinum and inset with tanzanite. Modernistic in style, the four figures, stylistically intertwined, looked as if they were one. With shaking hands, Chantal carefully lifted it out of the box and fastened it around her neck. “She asks that I wear this in remembrance of them.”

Sitting silently for a few minutes, the two stared into the fire until Peter could sense that Chantal had regained her composure.

“Chantal, I’ve scheduled a non-funeral, if you will, for two days from now at St. Christopher’s. 11:00 a.m. We’re hoping we may be able to flush someone out of the woodwork. Charles is arranging a stand-in for you so that …”

Eyes blazing, Chantal rounded on him. Voice deathly quiet, she interrupted. “Not a chance, Peter. This is my family we’re talking about. My father will be there, Marilyn will be there, and I’ll be there. No stand-in could be half as observant as I’ll be. I guarantee it. Do you really think I give a damn that I might be a target? Rather me than someone you’ve sent in to protect me.”

Seeing that he was about to argue, she shook her head, softening her voice.

“Allow me this much, Peter. I’m angry. No. I’m more than angry, I’m enraged and I need to do something. Please.”

Hesitating only a moment, Mappins reluctantly nodded in acquiescence.

“And Peter? Let’s schedule the real funeral for that evening. I … I need closure on this.”

Rising, leaving her snifter on top of all of the papers on the table beside the chair , Chantal left the library. Mappins remained, staring moodily into the fire.

[coocoostan]

Coocoobad, CFC
Nightclub District, West Coocoobad

Arkatov got out of his car after his “partner”, really just an officer who drove him around at watched out for him, pulled up. A Kamaz truck with a shipping container on the back was pulled over and a man with a shaved head had been put into the back of a regular car. “What do we have Vasya?” he asked one of his Sergeants. “Well, looks like this is bootleg liquor. It’s here at the Flaming Wheels and there’s a bar in Little Bai Lung on the list as well. The ‘Freedom Bar’. We’re going to have Ian here get into civvies and drive it over, see if we can draw out who’s in charge.”

“Well then. I’ll leave you to it.”

He walked back to his car, where his partner told him. "We’re to head over to 6 Precinct. Apparently your…offer? Was accepted, whatever that means. "

Right. Now he needed to figure out what he was going to be allowed to do. If it meant going to Tasman and running a parallel investigation, then so be it.

NMWC, Coocoobad Garrison

“So, tell the Kangs that the merc camp we found is still up and running and that they can hit it at their leisure.” General Murphy told his watch officer, a Colonel.

“Are they using airstrikes or SF?” The colonel asked.

“I don’t know, but I imagine both.”

“Yes Sir. We’ll wake you up when they reply, if it’s before sunrise anyhow.”

[Kangarawa]

Delaney’s Restaurant, Tasman City
10:45 p.m.

Delaney’s had always had one of the nicest atmospheres of any restaurant in the city. Overlooking Tasman Bay, the huge windows allowed diners a breathtaking view of the mountains on one side, the port itself and the constant motion of the ships at sea. Delaney’s was small, with seating for only forty patrons. Nepotism was almost the order of the day. Anne had had no difficulty making reservations for six, knowing full well that someone who had probably made reservations over a month before had just been bumped; one of the perks of being known.

She’d walked out onto the viewing deck while waiting for the table to be ready, glass of wine in hand, only to be joined within minutes by the very person with whom she wanted to speak. Loudly exchanging greetings, Anne slipped her colleague the tape as they hugged. As they both leaned over the railing, Anne spoke quietly, relating all that had occurred, interspersing that conversation with a louder, decoy one on the off chance that they had an unseen listener.

“Just … disappeared? No signs of phasing, teleporting or anything like that?”

“No. She just … disappeared.”

“Take her up on her offer. If she’s who I think she is, she may just be able to pull this off. The land transactions will have to be in the name of a Kangarawan national. Let’s try … Kuragosa. Adam Kuragosa. Bury them, and backdate them. Scythes to start with, but only give her part of what she wants. If she can eliminate Scythes, we’ll move on to Mappins and Fisher. Only then will Miss Lucy see the rest of her land.”

As the rest of the party had joined them, they’d been told their table was ready. As always, the food had been wonderful. By 10:45 p.m., Anne’s driver walked in, letting her know he’d arrived. Saying her good-byes, and without a further look at the colleague she’d arranged the dinner to meet, Anne left, mulling over what she’d been told.

[hr]

Octagonal Office, Parliament Buildings, Tasman City
7:45 a.m. the following morning

It didn’t take having the Tep Forum | 404 - Link Expired slammed on the table to let Charles know that Mappins wasn’t happy. Nor was the look on his face the give-away, though it was certainly indicative of his mood. It was the ominously quiet voice in which he asked, “How the hell did the “Teller” get this kind of information?”

Totally unfazed, Fisher picked up the paper, scanned the headlines and read the article to which Mappins was referring, before tossing the paper down in disgust. “Absolutely no idea, but I’ll guarantee that it didn’t come from the Fire Marshall. And before you say anything else, yes, I’ll check with him, and yes, I’ll go through the list of my people to see if I can spot any likely leaks there.”

Without another word, Fisher left Mappins office and took the car waiting outside back to the Department of Defence.

[Kandarin]

Later that night
The Parliament Buildings
Office of the Minister of the Interior

Once again, the rug in the center of the room erupted in a fountain of flame, spraying sparks hither and yon. Once again, Haskalah stepped out. This time, however, she had eschewed the armor in favor of a jean skirt and turtleneck. She looked around only to find that the room was empty, save for the janitor, who had retreated, frightened, into a corner.

Lucille waved reassuringly to him. “I’m just returning this pen”, she said, dropping the pen back into its place in Truscott’s coffee cup and retreating back into the rapidly fading flames.

[Reziel]

Tasman City – The Rezielan Embassy
Later that evening – 11:37 PM

Sitting on the armchair and grabbing the glass of cognac Francis Almsyck was handing him, Lachdanan Uth Reiser sighed quietly, glancing at the older man.

«Not even an unofficial one, Francis? Half a sentence… something you could have missed»

«Lachdanan… I’ve played this game for some forty years. I suppose I won’t be too a braggart, if I say there is nothing I can miss, in similar circumstances. Trust me. Nothing at all. The Kangarawans are not requesting our help… nor our support. On the other hand, we have half East Pacific buzzing all around this thing as bees with honey. Therefore… allow me an advice, young one: stay out of it. Do not move. Do not do anything. I know you’re reasoning as an Iremian… they’ve hurt your woman’s family, they deserve to die. But this is not the way. This damned Faction… they’re skilled. Don’t rush in the middle of the action just to find out you’ve been sacked»

Putting the glass back on the small table, the Archangel Lieutenant nodded, his mind a bit lost in his own thoughts.

«I suppose you’re right, my friend. Well… we’ll see. In the meanwhile…»

«Yes. Your silent companion will stay here, waiting for that request to come. Don’t worry… and now try to have a bit of rest. Tomorrow, Marilyn could make some use of your strength»

[Dovakhan]

Some Flophouse near Downtown
Tasman City, Kangarawa

Agent 0122 sorted through a dossier describing some of the oldest appointees of the previous regime. Minister of State Adrienne Miller, Minister of Finance Derek Forsythe, and Minister of the Interior Anne Truscott. These three powerful figures seemed to be intimately linked with the Faction.

He would bug each of their offices, but Agent 0122 knew that they were more than likely going to find them. Thus he would have to collect as much information about their day to day habits and schedules in order to follow them. For this, he would have do his own investigation then find a trustworthy hacker…

[Kangarawa]

KA1B, Northwest side of Lake MacQuarrie, 150 km Outside Tasman City
National Command Centre, 06:00 hours

A cluster of maps rolled to one side of the chart table, General McKinstrey perused the map on which Lieutenant-General Walters, Commander of the Airforce, was indicating what route he intended to have the bombers take.

“I know it’s faster, Dick, but you know as well as I do that we don’t dare try it. Stealth technology or not, we’d never get past the hive. Same problem on a return flight. My initial thought was one big circle; it would have made refuelling mid-air a snap.”

McKinstrey raised an eyebrow. “Aquinasnet?”

An expression of chagrin crossing his features, Walters nodded. “Indeed. We’ll need permission from all of these nations to enter their airspace.” The Lieutenant-General used his index finger to trace along the route.

“Encrypt the requests, and please, Mark; I know it’s not protocol, but send them yourself, through here, not DoD. No copies to DoD, just me. Too much risk of a leak ahead of time. If possible, I’d like the strike occurring no later than 02:00 hours tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

Within an hour, encrypted transmissions were sent to the countries of Jericho and Nablus, Gnidrah, New Tallon, Emperor Matthuis, Arkay, Intercircumcordei and one other with whose name Walters was unfamiliar. With any luck, they’d soon have replies.

[hr]

The Parliament Buildings, Tasman City
Office of the Minister of the Interior, 8:35 a.m.

Truscott pulled out the form on which “Lucy” had written her phone number while reading the scribbled message written on a torn piece of fax paper that had been left on her desk. Apparently the janitor had just quit, no reason given. Shrugging, as losing janitorial staff wasn’t all that uncommon, Anne picked up the receiver and dialled the number she’d been given.

She wasn’t at all surprised to find that the number didn’t connect her directly with “Lucy”. After her method of appearance and disappearance, nothing about the woman would have surprised her. Following the instructions given, she left a non-specific message.

Octagonal Office, 9:10 a.m.

“She’s going, and to be frank, neither of you would have tried to talk her out of it had you heard her last night. Security?”

Fisher shook his head. “She’s a damn fool, Peter, but I’ll not argue it. The “normal” security measures you’d expect are in place with regards to the Tasman City P. D. Their bomb squad’s already searched the building twice, and will again. Montgomery has a number of snipers strategically placed. In addition, I’ve had agents in place since 6:00 a.m.” Fisher looked tired and grey. “Before you even ask, the answer’s no. I’ve absolutely no way of knowing which of them I can trust. I’ve got them all working in pairs. I spent all day yesterday, well into the early hours trying to glean what I could from every agent’s file. My conclusions? Claind’s purified them. No one has received so much as a reprimand during the entire time they’ve been in the Department with the exception of one or two of the folks I brought in. Even the ones doing surveillance … I trust five of them, but the other three? I just don’t know. With what happened with Fox and Price, I’m at a loss.”

Despondently, he took a sip of coffee, grimacing as he swallowed. “Report in this morning. Unexpected night out on the town last night for one of our four biggies. Delaney’s. Exclusive enough that our guys couldn’t get in, so …”

[hr]

St. Christopher’s Chapel, Tasman City
10:40 a.m.

As the limousine pulled up in front of the Chapel, Scythes felt the first stirrings of dread. It was one thing to have told Peter how angry she was. It was quite another to actually have to face going through this façade without actually telling her family that that was what it was until afterwards, and that the actual Memorial service would be at the President’s Residence that evening. It was the only way to make the entire scene seem plausible, particularly given that members of both the Upper and Lower Houses with whom she had more than a casual acquaintance would be there.

As Bob Coons opened the door for her, both he and Paul Marks shielded her protectively as she climbed out of the vehicle, where two other agents immediately joined them. Her father, who had been standing beside her niece, and his granddaughter, Marilyn, and her companion, Lord Uth Reiser, literally flew down the Chapel stairs. Enveloping her in a bear hug, he simply ignored the remonstrations of the Security Detail who were keeping a close eye on the crowds behind the cordons some thirty metres back from the Chapel. Chantal found herself hard-pressed to hang on to some semblance of control looking into his tear-filled eyes. Hugging him in return and then clasping his hand, the two mounted the stairs together joining Marilyn and her escort, followed closely by Scythes’ Security Detail. Waiting at the top of the Chapel steps for the arrival of the hearse, Chantal found herself scanning the crowds from behind her darkly tinted glasses. Having hugged Marilyn, and been introduced to the man she’d heard so much about, she accepted the condolences of friends and Ministers alike as they paused to greet her on the way into the Chapel.

At long last, the hearse pulled up in front of the Chapel. As the coffins were ceremoniously unloaded, Chantal concentrated on the crowds.

[Emperor_Matthuis]

From: Theodora Anastasios, Minister of Aviation
To: Kangarawa

Permission is granted.

Yours Sincerely,

Theodora Anastasios

[Dovakhan]

A Few Blocks from Parliament
Tasman City, Kangarawa

Using the Dâbêspîö internetwork, Agent 0122 found out about the custodial job opening at the Minister of the Interior’s office.

The gears were set in motion to create false references with the Dovakhanese embassy and documents containing the identity of Danny Wolfe (born 1972-10-13), a registered Aboriginal killed in a farm accident and whose death was never reported thanks to the consideral sum paid by the Republic-Khanates to the family for the use of his name. The embassy had been so kind as to pay the ghost entity minimum wage and all pertinent taxes, and the real Wolfe had been so kind not to commit any crimes of note. Also, with typical Dovakhanese mixed-Eurasian features, Agent 0122 was passable as an Aboriginal.

With that, Agent 0122 would apply at Shop Steward of Parliament. He entered the office on Horsath St. and inquired at the front desk using a convincing accent. «Hello, I’m here to ask about the janitor post that’s available» he said.

[Kandarin]

The Rasmussen Building
Tasmin City

At eighteen stories, the Rasmussen Building was, at the time of its completion in 1918, the first true skyscraper in Kangarawa. Caught up in a bureaucratic mess for three years, it and its iconic bell tower were completed in one-year flurry of construction. Upon its grand opening, the architect demanded that it be named for an obscure parliamentarian who he claimed was responsible for getting the building authorization through committee.

Marik Negev had not picked up one of the informative pamphlets describing the aforementioned history, which were free in the building’s lobby. Entering the lobby would have raised more than a few questions. Instead, he had teleported directly to the top. As a member of Chiron Security, he was trusted enough to receive one of Haskalah’s ingenious little devices.

The others were not. He could not make them out from where he crouched, but he knew the location of the other two, regular Assassins, hidden in other buildings. They had missed their first chance. They would take their shot when the funeral was finished. This was deliberate. Haskalah had ordered it, for she believed in closing one book before opening another.

[Gnidrah]

Gnidrah National Airspace Authority
Agency Headquarters in Ycraes

“Encrypted request received from the National Command Centre in Kangarawa,” announced the operator to his supervisor. The supervisor took one look at the transmission, and replied, “Forward it to DoD. They’re going to want to make the call on this one.” The operator agreed and forwarded the encrypted message to the Gnidrahn Department of Defense.

[hr]
Department of Defense
Division of the Air Force
Government Complex
Ycraes, Sasnakra
Gnidrah

The message was received instantaneously. Within minutes, an approval was granted, on the provision that the Air Force be able able to escort the Kangarawan flight through Gnidrahn airspace. This was detailed in the DoD’s encrypted transmission to the National Command Centre in Kangarawa. Meanwhile, additional encrypted messages were sent to the commanders of each DoD division, informing them of the possibility of foreign miliary aircraft flying through.

[Kangarawa]

St. Christopher’s Chapel, Tasman City

As the weighted coffins, two very small and one large were borne into the Chapel itself by family friends, Chantal gripped her father’s arm tightly. Very slowly, the two of them, accompanied by Marilyn and Lachdanan, followed the small procession inside, Chantal focussing on remaining calm despite the sympathetic looks she could actually feel assaulting her from all sides. Coons and Marks walked closely behind, as did the two other members of her Security Detail, the four pairing up and moving to opposite sides of the Chapel as they reached the front.

As she slid into the front row of seats, her father beside her, Chantal deliberately kept her eyes averted from the coffins, smiling thankfully at Marilyn and Lachdanan as they slid into the row behind them. Taking a quick glance across the aisle, she could see Peter and Chris Hayes talking quietly, and just for a moment, wondered what it was that they were discussing. Fisher would, of course, be outside. Sitting down, leaning slightly against her father, her fingers travelled instinctively to the intricately crafted necklace Rachel had sent, finding comfort in its simple lines.

Hayes had just finished reporting to Mappins that permission had been received from each nation Lieutenant-Colonel Walters had contacted. The bombing mission scheduled for the early hours was a go.

As the service started, other than hearing the occasional musical interlude in the background of her mind, Chantal let her mind wander … anywhere. Finally, it was done. Choking back sobs, her father hugged her tightly, almost frightened by her pallor.

“I’m coming back to wherever it is you’re staying with you,” he murmured gently. Chantal’s eyes began to water as she nodded her acquiescence. Just as slowly as they’d entered, they headed down the aisle. As they slowed just inside the entrance, Chantal’s father, Marilyn and Lachdanan all stepped back slightly, leaving Chantal flanked by two members of her Security Detail on either side of her. With great dignity, she shook hands with those few who had been invited and hugged those to whom she was closest until finally, there were only her immediate family, Peter, Chris Hayes and her Security Detail left in the entrance way.

With a quick sigh of relief, one hand travelling to her neck again, the other holding her father’s hand, Chantal stepped out of the Chapel into the ironically bright sunshine.

[hr]

On top of the Rasmussen Building

Rossi and Schmidt had been paired up on Fisher’s orders. The two had worked together numerous times before. There was none of the hesitancy that often accompanied getting used to a new partner when they spotted the figure crouched just beside the bell tower on the top of the Rasmussen Building, very close to the time the funeral was to draw to a close.

As Rossi silently and quickly stepped five paces to the right drawing his weapon, Schmidt dropped to one knee drawing his own handgun.

Calmly and authoritatively, Rossi commanded, “Put your hands behind your head. Now! Stand up slowly and turn around to face us. Do it.”

[hr]

Coalition of Public Workers’ Office, 47 Horsath St., Tasman City

As the thirty-something year old man spoke, Julia Tsebar looked up from the papers on which she’d been working and cocked an eyebrow.

“Janitorial position? Only one in … just came in this morning, in fact. News does travel fast!” Rummaging through a stack of papers on the left corner of her desk, she found what she was looking for.

— Begin quote from ____

Custodial position available immediately.  Night shift: 11:00 p.m. – 7:00 a.m.  Second and third floor offices, supply areas, staff area and kitchen, four restroom facilities.  23.24W/hr.  Parliament Buildings.

— End quote

Passing him the fax, she asked matter-of-factly, “Union card?”

[Dovakhan]

Coalition of Public Workers’ Office, 47 Horsath St., Tasman City

«Here you go» Danny Wolfe/Agent 0122 said, presenting a union card also pre-arranged by the Dovakhanese Embassy. Supposedly, Danny Wolfe had needed it to get his job there too.

The Dovakhanese Mission to the Confederated East Pacific

Mârîânâ Rêspôlîtsâ, Ambassador-General, sipped a cup of chai in her office. On her desk was a Department of Diplomacy memo that announced Mârtîn Vêrdân’s retirement, which was too bad sinc he was a good guy. She then looked at the Dovakhanese New Star’s International Section showing the Scythes funeral in Tasman City. She hoped the agent as well as Kangarawan authorities in the city were faring well. As a former Social-Democrat, she had a vested interest in seeing the continuation of the Mappins presidency.

[Kangarawa]

— Begin quote from ____

Coalition of Public Workers’ Office, 47 Horsath St., Tasman City

«Here you go» Danny Wolfe/Agent 0122 said, presenting a union card also pre-arranged by the Dovakhanese Embassy. Supposedly, Danny Wolfe had needed it to get his job there too.

— End quote

“Thanks.” Accepting the card, Julie scanned his card before returning it, checking his seniority against the master list on her computer.

Looking up at him, she smiled a little shyly. “Looks as though you’re good to go, Danny. Funny, I don’t remember seeing you in here before. Working outside of Tasman, I suppose, not that it matters. Report to the Security Office at the Parliament Buildings about an hour before your shift starts. Whoever is on duty will direct you to the Supervisor and he or she’ll explain exactly what’s required of you. Good luck!”