“This says she moved it up on us. Fifteen minutes from now. How far are we from the gate?”
“At this speed, about ten minutes.”
“Go faster.”
“I need a clearer path.”
Elke said, “Turn left up here, and I’ll take the top.” She slipped restraints, braced her feet and stood behind him.
He heard Marlow curse. Elke fired a short burst. Marlow fumbled with his phone. “Warning shots, we’re firing warning shots. No engagement. I understand policy. Circumstances dictate threats but not engagement.”
He clicked off the connection and said, “We may as well call the lawyers now. This is going to be a nightmare.”
The city thinned out and the route became narrower, but less busy. He rolled onto the fused shoulder to pass a driver who had a dopy look and was picking his nose.
At last he came to the outer perimeter that IDed the vehicle and let him past, the first slalom barricade, the scanners the military didn’t know they knew about.
“Cady’s waiting.”
“Understood.”
Even out here there was a military post, and patrols, but it was officially BuState jurisdiction. The troops on duty were lesser paid contractors who did a reasonably professional job. Cady waited at the third ring, and waved.
Bart slowed but didn’t quite stop. Cady vaulted onto the hood and grabbed a tiedown ring. He accelerated slightly. In moments they reached the berm, wire, tanglers and stunners that protected the fence, along with the manned machine gun and auto cannon that officially didn’t. Cady waved again, the outer gate opened, and they locked through to the inner berm.
There was Highland and Jessie, fidgeting and waiting. He slowed and turned. He pulled up on the next side of the building so as not to be seen.
The others debarked and he followed, all of them at a run. Cady spoke into her phone, “Lionel, Corcoran, go.” She pressed off and said, “They’ll meet her and calm her. We need to roll in four minutes.”
Jason zipped out of the blouse, kicked off his boots, dropped trousers and grabbed the alcohol gel, the soldier’s best friend when water wasn’t available, or not in time. It cooled the exertion he felt, and most of his sweat evaporated with it. Someone had laid their suits out. He grabbed shirt, threw on jacket, pulled on pants and used the thoughtfully placed shoehorn to slip into his already tied shoes. He could adjust everything in the vehicle.
They made it down in three minutes, stuffing shirts into waistbands in the elevator, and checking stunners and handguns. Cady and her men were outside, ushering Highland into the ARPAC. They followed her, and the four sprinted out.
Once aboard the vehicle, they were subjected to Highland’s random seething rage. Lionel and Corcoran had managed to get her seated. She half rose and stood in an uncomfortable crouch as she railed against them.
“I don’t know what you were playing at, sightseeing when I have a schedule to keep. I will be communicating with your headquarters to note a very unsatisfactory attention to the job.”
Jason kept a close eye on everyone. Elke had a faint expression of annoyance, which was bad. However, she was controlled, not fixed in place. Jason’s jaw worked. He was quite angry, but seemed to have tuned her out.
Highland, though, was managing to escalate herself. Jason wasn’t sure if there was any approach that wouldn’t piss her off.
“It’s fine to sit there pretending I don’t exist. It’s an admission of unprofessionalism…”
He checked his contact sedatives. She really might need one, judging from her vitals. Her pulse was over 120, and oscillating moment to moment. Her BP was edging into unhealthy territory. She was visibly agitated and trembling from hormonal overload. He wished Shaman were here. This was much more his tasking.
Perhaps a tranquilizer would be better. If she missed her speech, she’d only be that much more incensed.
However, she gradually tapered off, seeming to run out of things to say. As she did so, her vitals lowered. It would be a tense speech, but that might work to her favor. If, of course, she realized that.
She did eventually wind down, and upon arriving at the destination debarked and was gracious, at least to the press and her supporters, in public.
Twice Jason checked his phone with a surreptitious sweep of his glasses. Both messages were that Aramis was stable, and had improving vitals. Shaman mentioned various nano and pharmaceutical treatments. Beyond the cursory level, they were past Jason’s medical knowledge.
Otherwise, the event was without incident and they all traveled back in silence. Highland didn’t seem to be aware of Aramis’s and Shaman’s absence and no one seemed inclined to mention it. Elke for one napped leaning against the bulkhead of the ARPAC, her head rocking and swaying as the vehicle shifted.
They were all agitated on return. Cady had more people waiting, who immediately took charge of the ARPAC. Bart ran to the vehicle park and returned at once in a standard staff car. They checked out at the gate and headed straight to the military clinic.
Everyone seemed to know who they were, which had both bad and good connotations. Any semblance of anonymity was gone. For now, though, it got them through protocol quickly.
Shaman met them outside the Major Care Unit. That was a positive sign.
Shaman said, “Yes, he’s stable. He will certainly survive. He will almost certainly be fit to resume duties after treatment. There was quite an argument about the ground ebony powder I sprinkled on his pillow. I had to assure the doctor it was both a religious necessity for Aramis, and fully sterilized for medical purposes. I did not mention the garlic cloves in three locations. They are dry and should not present a problem.”
Jason still didn’t know if the witch doctory Shaman insisted upon was done seriously, in gleeful mockery of modern medicine, or as a cultural practice for his own comfort. It might be all of them. Or he just might figure it couldn’t hurt to toss the stuff in. Regardless of that, the man was a hell of a cutter in the field and a first class surgeon in the clinic. If he said Aramis was going to recover, that was the end of it.
After they had a collective sigh and swapped guarded smiles, he continued. “Whoever did this was very experienced. It’s large scale damage, but none of it is traumatic enough for lethality. My guess is they planned to leave him to rest a bit after this, possibly even treat the contusions and use anesthetics. After they wore off, the pain would be that much more palpable, but they’d only need to prod him to trigger it.”
“Sick fuckers,” Elke said.
“Very. However, that’s part of why he’s still alive.”
Alex asked, “When are you transporting off planet?”
Shaman almost smiled. “Oh, that shouldn’t be necessary. The damage is substantial, but superficial. The jaw and cheek repair will be complete in a week. The rest is just muscle bruising with some bone bruising. It will remain painful, but is entirely repairable.”
“That’s not the only issue. How is his mental state and is it fair to keep him in place after that?” Alex looked tense again.
Horace asked, “Is it fair to send him home?”
Alex paused, then nodded slowly. “I hadn’t considered that. Well, we need a substitute until he’s better either way. We can reassess then.”
“Most certainly. I will want his input, and to assess his emotional state before concluding a decision.”
“When will he wake?”
“I expect to bring him out of induced coma in about eight hours.”
“We’d like to be back then. Highland isn’t scheduled for anything else today.”
“Yes. In the meantime, my medical advice is for all of us to rest. We are approaching reduced functionality.”
Jason had something he needed to do, but he understood the advice. With a glance back at his wired and intubated friend, he turned to ride back to their lodging and rest.
