CHAPTER 12
“He should be conscious. Aramis, are you there?”
He croaked. His mouth was full of…splints? He was splinted all over. Tubes, wires, stents that would be painful if he didn’t feel as if he’d been rolled under a tank.
That voice. It was Shaman.
“I…” He couldn’t get “Am” out.
“You’re going to live. You are in a military hospital, so I’m using powders and potions to supplement their care.”
He could hear all around. Shaman. That was Elke shifting in a seat. Some troop in armor and weapon, the rubbing sound was clear, near the door. Just outside, someone said, “-Bed Nine, and fifty milligrams for, good God what happened to him? Um, fifty milligrams-“
So, I look dead, or worse. I’m alive, though, and not sedated on a transport off this rock.
“Ima sleep,” he muttered. He didn’t know if they could hear him. He was alive, though. If he hurt it meant he could be healed. He felt tears well up and run hotly from the corners of his eyes.
It meant what he and Caron had was complicated. He could never tell her about this. Or could he? He knew he felt fuzzy and was falling asleep.
Alex had a coded message waiting. He downloaded it to his connectionless module, ran it through three decryptions, and read it.
“I support you, but there’s a lot of press. Lawyer arriving tomorrow. Try not to frag any officers before then- Meyer.”
That was expected, but reassuring. Was the lawyer from Earth, or someone they’d tagged locally? Actually, for future reference that was something they should plan for. They really did need legal intervention regularly.
At least they had that. The military were simply hogtied by laws, regulations, instructions, policies, guidances… he felt sorry for them. That captain had trod a very delicate line in Aramis’ recovery.
He wiped the read message and sent back, “Need further leads on potential hostiles to principal. No significant leads, all speculation.”
In the meantime, they’d hold their own war council and discuss that issue.
But first, the next message said Highland wanted to talk again. He took several deep breaths, reminded himself how much money he made and that Aramis was alive, then walked through to her apartment.
Without preamble, she shouted, “Marlow, you will fucking explain what happened this morning. Why was I delayed, then stalled, then hindered from my transport? Why were you late?”
She really doesn’t know, he thought. That did mean they’d been discreet.
“Ma’am, Agent Anderson was kidnapped while on assignment. We took a few hours to locate and recover him, in a joint mission with the military. Our intelligence indicated he was likely to be murdered if we didn’t respond at once.”
She seemed taken aback, and at a loss for words. It was an entire ten seconds before she said, “Okay, then I will excuse you. However, I expect you will inform me before any of these missions take place.”
Not a chance in hell, but I’ll smile and nod, he thought, as he said, “I understand, ma’am.”
“Exactly what assignment was he working on?” she asked.
“He is tasked with mapping, which includes reviewing escape routes to determine their quality. In addition, he stockpiles gear where we can reach it in a hurry while traveling.”
“You mean ‘weapons’?” She looked suspicious and angry again.
“Not generally. Food, water, local cash and clothes. We are usually carrying weapons, but if a vehicle gets damaged or otherwise compromised and must be abandoned, we need to have support logistics.”
“Very well. You can go.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, turned and left.
At no point had she either asked how Aramis was doing or expressed concern about him. There was no point in being angry. She probably wasn’t aware of him as a human being. People were just numbers to her, or potential votes, or exploitable counters.
He didn’t have to like her, but it would help if she wasn’t actively antagonistic to them.
Once he got back to their quarters he said so.
Bart said, “Perhaps you should treat her as an obstacle. Assume she will hinder at every turn.”
He twitched his eyebrows and said, “You know, that’s very logical. I hadn’t thought of it, but it makes sense.”
Elke said, “You will have to juggle the diplomacy of not calling her a self-aggrandizing, hatchet-faced narcissist, while working around her, but I am sure you can do it.”
“Indeed. She really can’t hear in here, right?” he said, looking at Elke.
“She cannot, nor can anyone else. It is possible Intel has snuck something past me and Jason, but I can’t see them sharing with her.” She stretched, hands in her hair, then working her shoulders gently. She was a bit bruised and battered from the day’s events.
Jason said, “Unless there’s a profit in it for them.”
Alex cocked his head. “We can’t rule that out, though there’s no existing pattern of it, that I know of.”
“That, and you can see how the BuState rep reacts.”
He checked the time. “Yeah, he’s coming up now. Can we clear this room?”
Jason said, “I’ll go check on Aramis and relieve Shaman.” He grabbed a day pack and left the room.
Two minutes later, Mister Gillette, with BuState intel arrived. Bart let him in, and Alex decided against any searches for now. They wanted the man as comfortable and agreeable as possible. Alex would have Jason and Elke sweep it again later, just in case. The table had a well with water, sodas and snacks.
“Good to see you, sir,” he offered.
“And you.” Gillette took the offered seat and grabbed a water gratefully. “Thanks for this,” he said with a nod.
“Long day?”
“Yes, I forget to drink, or I drink too much coffee. Ice water is refreshing. So what can I do for you?”
“Before we start, let me say this is in person for confidentiality. We should be secure in here, and welcome any additional precautions you wish to take.”
Gillette nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m fine for now.”
“Very well. We’re trying to build a threat matrix for Ms Highland. Any hostile or potentially hostile groups or significant individuals.”
“Ah, ‘significant individuals.’ Well, that’s the complication.”
“Go ahead.”
Gillette leaned back and said, “Well, obviously, in her duties, she does things that help or hinder any number of companies, to the detriment or benefit of others. Their interests, though, are limited to financial. Some will donate to her campaign, some to her opponents, this will change as the platforms and odds stabilize closer to the election, and some will split their bets and contribute to more than one.”
“Of course. Do you think any of them would contribute to a physical response? Whether intended to harm, scare, or attract notice.”
He considered a moment, then shook his head. “It’s not impossible, but none have done so in previous elections.”
“Right. Though there was speculation about Mister Crindi’s death.”
“There’s always speculation. He died, his wife ran in his stead, and she was dumped by the electorate on the next cycle. She accomplished little. Hardly a worthwhile endeavor.”
Alex nodded. That was mostly how he took it. However, that had helped swing party numbers. He wasn’t sure how much benefit that had been, but if it suggested to him it was a potentially viable method, it might suggest it to others. And Gillette was readily aware of the incident.
“Then what about well-trained or financed kooks without economic interests?”
“It’s impossible to rule out, of course, but hundreds of anonymous threats come in weekly. A handful are deemed credible. Every few weeks one turns up someone violating the law. Twice they’d actually started overt action.”
