“Good idea,” Carter said, impressed. “Okay, it’s the beginning of the day here, I just got into the office right before you called, and now I need to get Daggert on this like butter on bread…”
“Oh damn. I didn’t even think about what time it was there. I’m glad I didn’t call sooner, then. It’s the end of the day here,” Ashton said. “Rick was gonna fix dinner, and he’s probably waiting on me…”
“You are tired! All right. Go eat, then go to bed,” Carter said, considerate and concerned. “I have this end of things.”
“Right. Good morning, Lee.”
“Good night, Nick.”
Ashton dropped the connection, and found himself back in his bedroom on Carolina. With a sigh, he stood and stumbled toward the door, opening it and entering the den.
“Hey, there you are,” Honda said, looking up from where he laid two places at the dinner table. “Just in time. I made a big pan of Mama Honda’s famous chicken with black bean sauce, and plenty of rice.”
“That sounds delish,” Ashton said. “Just don’t let me fall asleep and go face-down in it. I don’t need black beans up my nose or something.”
“I won’t. You need to have some time off, Nick. It doesn’t sound like you’ve had a day off since you got here.”
“I haven’t. But starting tomorrow, that’s gonna change. Because my house husband wants his man around once in a while.”
“Ooo. There’s a good notion…”
“Okay, folks,” Carter said in the special virtual room that he and General Daggert had set up for the express purpose, “we had feedback from Detective Ashton today about matters on Carolina. And one of the things he sent us was a nice list of all of the spies he’s been able to identify based on correspondence between consuls on Carolina.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Daggert said. “Should we start rounding them up?”
“Yeah, we need to go out and get those guys!” Brandon Elliot, one of Ashton’s Gang, exclaimed.
“No,” Carter said, firm, “he specifically told me not to do that. He’s in a precarious position; he can obtain more data for us, or we can get him killed. So for now, what we need to do is to make sure they don’t actually reach anybody or anything, to include sensitive information or important people that they could kidnap or kill to throw a wrench into the Empire’s plans.”
“Still think we need to get ‘em,” Elliot grumbled.
“Do you want your division leader back alive, or not?” Carter all but snapped. “Never mind there are two of our people there! Get a grip, Elliot. We are not doing anything that will risk the lives of either Ashton or Honda. Is that understood?”
Nods went around the room. Elliot flushed, but said no more. Next to him, Donna Law – a new and very promising investigator fresh out of the Imperial Police Academy, at the top of her class, pressed her lips together in displeasure, and stared at Elliot.
“All right,” Daggert said. “Push me the list and I’ll get my people on ensuring the spies are isolated from the important stuff.”
“That sounds good,” Carter agreed.
Ashton – dressed in nice but inexpensive slacks, a collared shirt, a jacket and tie, as befitted his new position as personal assistant – arrived at the consulate the next day with his ass dragging, and it showed despite his best efforts.
“What in the Name is the matter with you today?” Niebecker asked almost immediately from the doorway, as Ashton sat at the assistant’s desk. “You look like hell. You’re not getting sick, are you?”
“No, sir,” Ashton replied, unsuccessfully stifling a sigh. “I’m just tired.”
“Heh. Were you up all night with your husband?”
“Well, he does want to see a bit more of me, yes.”
“Ah. When was the last time you had a day off, Nik?”
“Um.” Ashton thought carefully. “Maybe the day after the facilities manager hired me to work in the consulate? I mean, the day before, rather?”
“WHAT?! Oh, that will not do at all!” Niebecker exclaimed, horrified. “You have already been working with me nearly a month! How long were you here before that?”
“Maybe… two weeks?”
“No, no, no. Go home,” Niebecker decreed. “Take the rest of the week off. Rest. You can begin your new position next Monday. If you are still tired, make it Tuesday.”
“I, um, I can keep going,” Ashton protested, albeit his voice was weaker than usual; the temptation to do as Niebecker said was strong. “I just need to make sure I get weekends off, sir, if you’re okay with that.”
“I am, and you will, from now on,” Niebecker decreed. “I think the urgency has passed for the time, anyway – with your help. But you are nearly asleep on your feet, and you will make errors if this goes on any longer. I must insist, Nik: go home. It’s Wednesday morning. I’ll see you next week.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay,” Ashton finally capitulated, standing. He headed for the front of the consulate with some relief.
As soon as he walked in the front door, Honda met him.
“Nick! What are you doing here?! Did the consul send you home?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Ashton replied. “I’m about dead on my feet, here. And damn, does it show.”
“Go to bed,” Honda decreed. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for lunch.”
“It’s extra work for you,” Ashton protested. “And cooking all the time isn’t in your job description!”
“I’m taking care of my division lead,” Honda noted. “It’s all right. I might order delivery anyway. I found a great Italian place that does delivery right down the block. And there’s a German place around the corner from that.”
“Okay. That’ll work. And sounds good.”
“Which?”
“Any of it.”
“Okay.”
Ashton headed for his bedroom, stripping out of his clothes as he went, and leaving
