The Service of the Sword

No operative has just one bolt hole and whereas their digs had been in the New Prague Hotel, room 313, they had also rented a seedy flat on the bad side of town.

Prague City was bisected into north and south sections by the Aryan River. The north section was the business district with the better homes and flats on the north edge. Also on the north side was the Peep Building, pardon, the 'People's Building,' and the StateSec headquarters.

On the south side was the industrial region and the local police headquarters. Prague City, like all Peep cities, had no crime problem. Just ask Cordelia Ransom. Everyone was happy and industrious, focused on the important mission of destroying Manticore, the aristocratic enemy of the People.

Strangely, South Prague City never made it into any of Cordelia Ransom's tridee broadcasts. In South Prague City, carrying a body into a building was only notable in that it was being carried in.

Not that anyone in South Prague City was going to notice anything at any time.

Johnny turned away from the window as the figure in the chair stirred. 'Headache?'

The admiral, which was what they had by his uniform, was a heavy-set man, probably in his sixties by his looks. He didn't have the appearance of one of the jumped up proles that made up much of the modern Peep senior officer corps. From his look he was probably a holdover from the Legislaturalists.

The officer felt the bonds restraining him to the chair, moved his lips under the tape on his mouth, looked at the two men in prole clothing and nodded.

'Three things,' Charles said, standing up with a cup in one hand and a knife in the other. 'Listening?'

The admiral nodded again, looking at the knife.

'First thing. We're not StateSec, we're Manty Intelligence. Second thing, you were trying to defect and nearly got nabbed by StateSec. Third thing, we're not your pickup group but we're going to try to get you out. However, if you mess about, we'll kill you just as happily. Still want me to cut you loose?'

The officer nodded then grimaced as Mullins first ripped off the tape then cut his bonds.

'I have no knowledge of what you are talking about,' the admiral said, looking around the dingy room. 'I am a citizen admiral of the Fleet; there will be absolutely effective repercussions if State Security thinks they can simply 'disappear' me.'

'Uh, huh,' Mullins said. 'That wouldn't even fly with the Peeps and it doesn't get far with us.'

'And, let me guess, old boy,' Charles said cocking his head. ' 'Absolutely effective' would be your code word to determine if we're really ONI. Sorry, chap, we're not actually part of your pickup team so we can't give you the counter-code.'

'Again, I have no idea what you are talking about,' the admiral said firmly. 'I am a loyal citizen officer of the People's Republic.'

'Ah, okay,' Johnny said. 'In that case, there's a StateSec private we got you away from who is probably angling for sergeant.' He grabbed the admiral by the arm and yanked the larger officer to his feet. 'He'd probably get an instant promotion if he caught you.'

The admiral looked from one to the other as Charles cut the bonds. 'I am not attempting to defect,' he said desperately. 'I am a loyal officer!'

'General Garson is here,' Mullins said. ' 'All the way from Nouveau Paris!' I'm sure he'll be happy to listen to your protests.'

'If . . .' the admiral paused and gulped. 'If you're Manty Intelligence, shouldn't you be trying to kidnap me? I could be carrying important information.'

'Nope,' Mullins explained. 'You're not worth our lives if you're not willing to talk; Manticore doesn't use harsh information extraction methods. And, besides, we have another mission here. We only picked you up because it looked like an op had gone bad. If you're really a 'loyal officer of the People's Republic' we'll turn you loose, finish our mission and depart.'

'We'd prefer to kill you,' Charles said, putting away the knife and taking the admiral by the arm. 'But it's against our basic rules of engagement. Pity. So, let's go meet that private, shall we?'

'Wait,' the admiral said, holding up a hand. 'Just . . . wait. Okay. Yes, I was attempting to defect.'

'Good, now that we have your confession . . .' Charles said in a harsh Nouveau Paris accent.

'Oh, shut up, Charlie,' Mullins said with a laugh at the frozen expression on the admiral's face. 'He's joking. Not a good one. Major John Mullins, Admiral and this is idiot is Major Charles Gonzalvez. Pleased to make your acquaintance.'

'A pleasure to meet you,' the admiral said with a sigh. 'What went wrong?'

'I have no idea; we really aren't part of your pickup team. What happened?'

The admiral shrugged and looked out the window where dawn was just beginning to break. 'I was supposed to go to a dry cleaners and drop off a pair of uniform pants. The code was that I wanted triple pressing, no starch.'

'I know the laundry,' Mullins said. 'Lee's Cleaners on Fur De Lis Avenue?'

'That one,' the admiral nodded. 'I was half way down the block on my way to it when I was knocked off my feet by an explosion. When I got back up . . . boom . . . no more Chinese laundry.'

'Somehow I doubt it was a gas leak,' Charles said dryly.

'My doubt as well. I started to walk away and then saw State Security officers coming from every direction. I . . . I admit I panicked. I dropped the pants and ran.'

'Best thing you could have done,' Johnny said. 'StateSec would have hung you on suspicion.'

'I had been running and hiding for nearly two hours when I ran into you two. And that's all I remember. Now, how are you going to get me out of here?'

'What?' Mullins said. 'Why should we do that?'

'But . . . but ONI set up my defection! You have to get me out!'

'Not really, old boy,' Charles replied. 'It's not our mission. Just because someone else blew it, doesn't mean we have to fix their abortion. I think you're on your own.'

'You can't do this!' Mladek said. 'Admiral Givens herself is involved in the planning for this!'

'Sure she is,' Mullins said disparagingly. 'She gets involved in every two-bit admiral that jumps ship.'

'I'm not just a 'two-bit' admiral,' Mladek snarled. 'I was in charge of Fleet communications operation and design. Although StateSec is fine at finding thugs to beat people in the head, they don't have a clue when it comes to Fleet communications and they had to use my personnel to design and maintain their systems. I saw all their traffic. And I know things . . . let's just say that I know a few things that Admiral Givens really wants details on. I'm serious. If you leave me here you might as well defect yourself or Givens will gut you alive.'

Mullins looked over at Gonzalvez who nodded slightly.

'Well . . . crap,' Mullins said. 'Getting us out was going to be interesting enough. Getting you out, too, will be ugly.'

'You have means,' the admiral said with a wave. 'Make contact with your chain; activate an emergency escape plan. Whatever it is you do when a mission goes bad.'

'Well, as to that,' Mullins replied with a chagrined look.

The admiral listened intently, occasionally shaking his head.

'You've been drinking,' he said when Mullins finished. 'But even though it smells like a distillery in here, I can't believe you've been drinking enough to make up that story. And I doubt you're joking . . .'

'He's not,' Gonzalvez said. 'But before you decide to launch into a lecture, consider the fact that if we had not chosen to take our holiday on your sunny little planet, you would now be at the tender mercy of StateSec.'

'That's a good point,' the admiral said, subsiding. 'But it still doesn't help us get off the planet.'