down to the vehicle apron.
They had access to several, but for now, that little three wheel runabout was fine. It was different from the military’s, but State had several. Dressed like this, no one should remark on her. She rolled for the gate.
The guard held up a pad, and she nodded, slowed and printed out.
It took only minutes to reach the engineer compound. It had nice landscaping and a proud sign they’d milled themselves. That was a positive indicator. She drove in carefully. There were no shop markers. That was decent OPSEC, but she’d know what she was looking for, and yes, that was it. She parked.
The shop in question was separated slightly from the others, had additional cofferdamming, and two items that were trophies. One was a section of nose cone off an H-17 rocket, the other a twisted corkscrew of metal that most people might take for mere fragmentation debris, but she knew had been explosively formed in a combination of practice and recreation. It was a reasonably good job, though she could do better.
She pushed the button and waited patiently. It was a full two minutes before someone opened a physical hatch and looked through. He was early thirties, lean and unremarkable.
“May I help you, ma’am?”
“I’m Eleonora Sykora, Executive Protection Agent and Munitions Disposal Specialist in Charge, Ripple Creek Security. I will be operating in your area and need to consult with your shop chief.”
“One moment. And can I see your ID, please?”
She handed over her primary ID-she had a duplicate in case of emergencies, and several local and Earth IDs in case evasion was necessary. There was no reason it would be necessary here, but Jason issued the instructions and she concurred.
The man glanced it over and said, “Very well, please stand by.” He closed the hatch.
Another full minute elapsed before the door was opened. The greeter stood next to a woman, a master sergeant.
She said, “Agent Sykora? I’m Master Sergeant Corbelle.” She sounded French, though the accent was unusual. Caribbean? Quebecois?
“Pleased to meet you.”
“Tea?” Corbelle indicated an office.
“Thank you.”
Elke adjusted her seat to keep her back from the door, accepted a cup from the assistant.
“I didn’t catch your name,” she said.
“Sorry. Sergeant Lang. Welcome to Mtali.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, Agent Sykora, you’re rather well known in some circles.”
“More than I would like, on this tour, unfortunately.”
“Yes, I figured that wasn’t intentional publicity. What can I help you with?”
“I wish to be polite so that you know I am operating in your area. I am available for disposal work if not on post with my principal. I’m available for consult.”
“We appreciate that. It’s been quiet, though your last tour had an interesting outcome.”
“Which do you mean? I’ve had several.” Did they mean Govannon, where she’d used a small nuclear core as a distraction? Or…
“Celadon, where you did recovery work after that home-brewed device.”
“Ah, yes. A poorly executed contraption that was most exciting for a while.” She smiled slightly, then sipped her tea. It was quite good.
Corbelle said, “ ‘Most exciting,’ indeed. I wish I’d been there, but I’m also glad I wasn’t.”
“Are there any special rules or restrictions on operations here?”
“As far as demolitions?”
Elke nodded.
“The near range, outside the South Gate, is limited to two hundred kilos per shot. The far range is outside the city, and I mean outside. The city comes to a stop and the wilderness begins. Very colonial. Out there, we’re unlimited.”
“What about military engagements? Are they restricted on munitions?”
Corbelle took a long drink, then said, “Very. They require patrol commander approval for any release. He has a key. Lethal weapons require shift commander approval from here. Support weapons may not be unlocked for two minutes.”
“And explosive munitions?”
“Prohibited except for artillery and Aerospace.”
“There seems to have been a mixup. I have need of small charges for emergency escapes, disabling pursuit vehicles, entering safe buildings during emergencies. My request apparently got rolled into the military logistics, and was cancelled.”
Corbelle smiled and shook her head. “No, Elke, ‘Demigoddess of Destruction,’ I am unable to furnish you with explosives. While I could obviously make some disappear, the tagants are unique and fresh and would positively identify the source. If any is stolen, I will have to mark you as a suspect.”
Elke grew tight and cool inside. Kurva drat. That was not how she’d wanted to start the negotiations, nor end them. There was nothing she could do, however.
She stood and said, “I remain at your disposal if need arises. Thank you for the tea.” She offered a hand briefly.
She kept the cool lump inside until she exited the building, at which point it became incandescent.
They’d lied to her all along. Even if they’d not known until arrival, Jason was the advance man, and would have had this information.
This would mean a shopping trip.
Alex didn’t sleep well. He rarely did the first night, had a lot to worry about, and had few allies to back him up. There were the twelve Ripple Creek operators here, and another team of four protecting Ahmed Anjari, but while he was that team’s putative boss, he was mostly liaison and would sign off on any logistics issues. Unless an incident called for lawyers, they weren’t his problem.
Highland and JessieM made up for it, though. He figured this morning, the first outing, would add to the stress.
Highland’s first trip was twofold. She was to meet with the Mtali Sufi Council, and to be interviewed for the Mtali release of her video presentation, “Family Across Cultures.”
In fact, the trouble had started already. A Sunni group vowed to protest her appearance. An Amala group claimed they’d been promised her presence first. Someone called her an enabler of illicit occupation, regarding the military mission. They hadn’t even had breakfast yet.
Well, it was time to do that, and decide how to proceed.
Elke had signed out to visit the base, with a note on return. As the five of them ate from a table nicely laid out by the unobtrusive staff, he broached the subject.
Bart said, “With Aramis’s help, I can randomize the routes. Will we have support vehicles?”
“We do not. I’m not sure why yet.”
Jason said, “She won’t think of rescheduling.”
“Nor should we. We can handle it. If we start being timid, we’ll lose professional rating.”
“Are we working on our own PR here?”
“No, but pretty much everything we do is PR. Our ability to deliver a principal safely is all we have. We certainly can’t get anywhere with Bart’s looks or Aramis’s manners.”
Aramis said, “Or Elke’s subtlety.”
“So we load up and do it.”
“At least we have the ARPAC.”
“Yup. Are we ready?”
“It’s fueled and inspected. Cady’s people and subcontractors have charge of the park. I want weapons for all of us, a spare of each and water and food. Aramis?”
“Yes, I have paper and RAMmed backup routes.”
Alex asked, “What’s status on body armor?”
