planning?' he finally said.
'I can't discuss it right now,' she told him. 'Like I said, things will be clear in another day and you'll have the opportunity to evaluate my actions along with all of the other Martian citizens. But for now you're just going to have to trust me. Pull back your people. Keep them on the right side of this thing and let them decide for themselves in the next two days. If you keep them in place here, some of them are going to be killed and that's the last thing in the world I want. Pull them back. I know you're recording this conversation and I take full responsibility for this action. If you have red blood flowing in your veins, you'll do as I ask and give no more assistance to the FLEB.'
He bit his lip nervously as he stared at her, a simple Martian politician who had just had the most important decision of his life dumped into his lap. But he was not a dumb man by any means. He was a former street cop who had risen through the ranks to achieve the position he now held. He knew Laura Whiting and he knew what she stood for. 'They'll be pulled back,' he finally said. 'And God help you, Laura.'
'God help us all.' Laura replied with a grateful smile.
Officers John Williams and Zifford Resinman of the New Pittsburgh PD had been on scene less than ten minutes. They were sixty meters from the main entrance of the capital building, covering behind their police cart. Their M-24 rifles were in their hands, pointing at the doors, the selector switches set on full automatic fire. Their helmets were firmly in place and their combat goggles showed only a glare of the dim Martian sunlight reflecting off of the glass and a strained view of an empty lobby beyond it. Their radios crackled out a hundred different orders and inquiries, adding to the general feeling of confusion that was pervading the scene. All around them were other NPPD police officers deployed in a similar matter. The elite SWAT team had just arrived and was taking up position against the walls of the capital building itself. They had primacord and anti-tank lasers with them for breaching the doors if that became necessary. About a hundred yards down the street, well out of the line of sight of the capital, the FLEB troops had arrived and were milling about behind their vans, talking to Lieutenant Bongwater, who was in charge of the police aspects of the operation.
'Zif?' asked John over their private tactical link. 'What the hell is going on here? Do you really believe that the governor's security troops fired on FLEB agents?'
'Do you really think that they were trying to arrest the governor?' Zifford asked. 'If they were, I'm glad they did. Fuck those federal assholes. You know that whatever the charges are, they're bullshit.'
'Yep,' John agreed. 'It'd be just like those pricks to try and indict her on some bogus charge to get rid of her.'
Zifford nodded. 'Yeah. And if we're hearing right, those are MPG guys inside there. For God's sake, we're part of the MPG. I don't want to shoot any of my own people.' This was true. Both men were members of the MPG New Pittsburgh division. Zifford was a tanker. John was a Hummingbird pilot.
'I know the feeling,' John said. 'Hell, I probably know some of the guys in there. I transport the special forces out to their staging areas every weekend. That's where all the fucking VIP security guys come from.' He shook his head. 'It can't end this way. I hope they don't force us to stand here and help them take her away.'
'I don't think I could be a part of that,' Zifford said. 'I really don't.'
At that moment their PCs both began to vibrate, indicating incoming calls. They both reached for them, taking care to keep their rifles aimed at the building with one hand as they did so. Around them, a few of the other cops that were deployed were doing the same thing, thus clueing them in to what they were going to see when they answered. Both flipped open their screens and saw that the MPG main headquarters was the calling party.
'They're calling us up,' Zifford said slowly, a hint of fear in his voice.
John looked at him and looked around at the others. 'Answer,' he told his PC.
The face of General Jackson himself appeared before him. 'This is General Jackson and this message is for all active members of the Martian Planetary Guard,' his image said. 'This is a general call up of forces for an imminent threat to the planet. MarsTrans trains are being cleared as we speak. Make your way as quickly as possible to your duty stations and you will be given a briefing and deployment orders at that time. This is not, I repeat, this is
'Holy shit,' John said.
'Is this because of the feds?' Zifford asked softly. 'Is it the feds, or is it an EastHem attack?'
John looked over at the gathering of FLEB officers. They were standing in a large group, their apparent leader apart from them and talking to Bongwater. He seemed upset about something. 'I think it's the feds,' he said softly. 'Coming right now, while they're trying to take Governor Whiting away? What else could it be?'
'Whiting is going to ask us to fight for her,' Zifford said. 'She's going to ask us to fight against WestHem.'
John nodded. 'I think you're right.'
They contemplated that thought for a moment, both of them letting their attention lapse from the section of the building they were supposed to be watching.
'Will you do it?' Zifford finally asked.
He nodded. 'If it means making us free... I'll do it.'
'So will I,' Zifford said.
All around them similar conversations were going on. The consensus seemed to be the same in every instance.
Lieutenant Glory Bongwater was as confused as the rest of them, though her information was a little bit better. She stood before an Internet screen at the command post, a block away from the main entrance to the capital. Beside her was Special Agent Waxford, the highest-ranking FLEB agent left from the field office besides Corban Hayes himself. Waxford knew exactly what he wanted done but otherwise didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground. Bongwater detested him immensely and longed to slam the butt of her pistol across his mouth.
'When can your people rush the building?' he demanded of Bongwater. 'I have agents in there, some of them wounded.'
'I know that,' she said for the fifth time. 'We're following our standard hostage situation procedures. We've made contact with General Jackson inside and we'll work to try to end this thing peacefully. We only rush the building when we're given no other option.'
'My wounded might die in there while we're waiting!' Waxford yelled. 'Don't you understand that?'
'Jackson offered to let the dip-hoes take the wounded away,' she reminded him. 'It's you who ordered that that not be done, remember?'
'I don't want to give them more hostages!' he said. 'You can't let a bunch of dip-hoes go running up to the door to take people away. They'll be shot down!'
'It would be our SWAT team that approached the doorway,' Bongwater said. 'And I believe they would be safe. Those are MPG troops in there holding that building, not criminals. They wouldn't fire on them.'
'They fired on our agents didn't they?' he countered.
Bongwater took a deep breath, fighting to control herself. 'Perhaps that is because they figured that your men represented a danger to Governor Whiting,' she said. 'Perhaps they felt that your warrant and your indictment were fabricated.'
'Ridiculous,' he spat. 'You don't actually believe that, do you?'
She held his gaze. 'What I believe doesn't really matter now, does it? My point is that we can safely remove your wounded and get them assistance if you'll allow it. I was once a member of the MPG myself. They won't fire on us for doing that.'
'Request denied,' he said icily. 'You just start formulating a plan to charge that building. I want this situation brought under control within the hour.'
'And I want there to be peace in the solar system,' Bongwater said. 'But we don't usually get what we want now, do we? If your agents want to rush the building, that's fine. Go rushing in. We'll even lend you the primacord and the AT lasers. But as long as my people are involved in this thing, we do it my way. And my way is to negotiate with the people in the building to try to end this peacefully.'
'Maybe I should talk to your superior about this,' he said in a threatening tone.
Bongwater knew an empty threat when she heard one. 'Maybe you should,' she returned.
Waxford muttered something under his breath and then stormed away, back to the crowd of agents that were standing around in their armor, waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
'Goddamn FLEB fucks,' Bongwater said to herself.
She looked down at her command computer, which had been set up on the hood of her cart. It showed a
