The Black Guard: Book II: Evolution (Black Guard Series 2) (31 page)

She nodded and reached into the bag, pulled out our
standard gas mask, and slipped it on.

I stepped back, forcing Trapp and Elijah to back up and
then nodded for her to proceed.

She held her ID against the doorplate and it clicked
open, then she opened it slowly, slammed it shut, and walked back to us while
removing the mask.

"That room is contaminated with something. I'll
have to test it to determine what, but if I had to guess, I'd say a poisonous
gas. I've seen a room which had a poisonous gas container exploded in it and
this looks similar."

"Elijah, Ceder will be here shortly," I said
as I clicked on Ceder's channel. "The Guard is going to conduct a search
of every contestant's room beginning with the six remaining of the eight
contestants. Assign two extra Guard to each room. Three Guard will conduct the
search while one watches the occupants. After that, have them search the
unoccupied rooms. Gunny, I want your marines to isolate all staff and then
search their rooms and then the general area."

An hour into the search, I was notified that a cyanide
canister had been discovered in Mr. Banda's security guard's room. Banda was
one of the contestants who had beaten Mr. Lacroix in round three. I called
Goebel and he decided to remove the guard but leave Mr. Banda, since there was
no proof he was involved. The marines found two lasers and the two owners were also
taken prisoner.

Round three the next day eliminated four more and we
were left with four: Lady Wu, Mr. Banda, Mr. Chapa, and Ms. Zenaida.

* * *

Not surprisingly, the next few days were without
incident—a rest day and round five with Lady Wu and Zenaida surviving.
Round four had reduced the contestants to fifteen and with a reduction in staff
there were fewer than forty people and more than eighty Jax to watch them. And
the marines weren't in a trusting mood.

"I should split my winnings with you, Captain
Sapir," Lady Wu said when I checked in the next day—a day of rest
before the final match with Zenaida. "I performed poorly the last two
times because I was nervous every minute of every day. I nearly decided not to attend
this year until I heard the Black Guard would provide security. I almost felt
sorry for the high-rollers and their paid conspirators." She laughed.
"It's been fun watching you, like a War Game within the War Games."

"I'd like to think of it as a Peace Game within a
War Game—saving lives versus killing."

She gave me a low bow. "Thank you, Captain Sapir,
for a most enjoyable experience."

I returned the bow and went to see Zenaida. She was
dressed and ready to exercise.

"Who do you think is going to win?' she asked,
surprising me.

I laughed. "Judging by what I've seen so far, you
and Lady Wu are prodigies and therefore far beyond my understanding. My
uneducated guess would be the one who doesn't care about winning," I said,
thinking about Wuji.

She stared at me for a long time, then walked up to me
and touched the dragon on my collar.

"I always wondered about the dragons of the Black
Guard, what made them special—now I see. They have mastered themselves.
Yes, you are right."

* * *

The final War Game lasted thirteen hours and in the end
Zenaida won. If the War had been real, I suspect both nations would have
destroyed themselves. I was relieved to see the end of the games. The JCC would
consider the assignment a huge success. I was far less pleased. I had satisfied
tradition and protected the clients but failed in my duty to protect the Guard
and a marine.

On the way back to the War Horse, I pondered Buddha, a
man
who taught a path to enlightenment
from his own experience. I concluded my path to peace must be through my own
experiences.

When I exited the shuttle, a Lieutenant Commander stood
waiting. He bowed rather than salute. "Captain Sapir, I'm Lieutenant
Commander Perrin, the War Horse's communications officer. Captain Hwang received
this message from the JCC this morning and asked me to deliver it to you
personally." He handed the tablet to me. "He will remain in orbit
until you decide. He also asked me to invite you to dine with him tonight if
you are available."

"Thank you, Commander." I scanned the message.
My previous opponents on Faithful were asking for me specifically to guard
their president, who has had several attempts on his life. The JCC was leaving
it up to me whether to agree and to negotiate the contract. "Respond to
the JCC that I'll stop in and talk to the United Freelands. And tell Captain
Hwang I'd be honored to join him for dinner tonight." I should refuse
because it was obvious, whether the threat was real or not, that someone wanted
revenge on me for not only thwarting an attempt to rescue their political prisoners
but having to apologize for their operatives actions. Maybe I was being foolish
as General Lerman had been in deciding to make a statement on Outpost. Or maybe
I was just following my path. The JCC appeared to think so; otherwise, they
would have refused.

* * *

"I'm surprised you agreed to even talk to them,
Sapir," Hwang said as he, Wolfson, and I stood sipping drinks before
dinner. "This would seem a blatant attempt at revenge."

"You have to admit it's intriguing. They know they
can't just kill me without some form of Jax retaliation. So they must make it
look like I was killed in the line of duty; therefore, I'm safe until I sign a
contract."

"Do you intend to sign one?" Wolfson asked,
leaning forward.

"If it's in the best interest of the Jax." I raised
my glass. "To family."

Hwang and Wolfson raised theirs. "To family."

* * *

A day and a half later, we were in orbit around Faithful.
I departed for the city of Alexander, the capital of the United Freelands, a
separate continent composed of multiple free states. Alexander was located in
the state of Oakland. The shuttle was directed to a small airport where a man
in civilian clothes met me.

"Good morning, Captain Sapir, I'm Director Doyle,
the man in charge of President Marshall's security. It's only a ten-minute
drive to the capital building from here. Did you come alone?" he asked
looking at the combat shuttle.

"I'm here only to talk about a potential contract."

"I'm afraid the need is immediate … there has
already been two attempts."

"You succeeded in stopping both so why do you need
the Black Guard?" I asked, wondering whether they had one prepared version.
If different people had different versions, it may lead me to understand what
was actually going on.

"By luck, I'm ashamed to admit. Guarding important
people is mostly making sure the place the person will visit is secure and keeping
nut cases from walking up and shooting him. Our people aren't trained to handle
professional assassins although we pretend we are."

"That is both honest and perceptive. Ironically, we
provide personal security, which is not what you do. You provide area security,
so the services you perform, like building security and checking out places the
person intends to visit, will still be necessary."

He frowned. "Why can't you start right away?"

"We require a signed contract. It defines what you
want the Black Guard to do, and it stipulates what we will and will not do.
Without a contract clients tend to assume we are responsible for things that
are not covered and feel cheated when we don't meet their expectations."

"For example?" he asked.

"We provide personal protection. That means we do
not feel responsible for the safety of anyone else in the area and will make no
attempt to help unless it's necessary to protect our client. And we are not
subject to your laws."

"I can see why you would want the safeguards of a
contract." He nodded. "Like you, I'm a little myopic. I'm concerned
about the president's safety to the exclusion of everything else." He lapsed
into silence as we climbed into an official vehicle and sped through the city
with a motorcycle escort.

The car was passed through a security gate into a twenty
acre fenced property with a single building in the center. The building looked old
and reminiscent of an old-English three-story mansion. Ten twenty-meter wide
stone steps led to wooden doors guarded by two soldiers in combat gear. They
saluted Doyle as he approached and opened the door for us to enter. Inside,
Doyle led me to the left and down a long corridor filled with portraits of men
and women. We stopped at a small foyer in front of an elderly woman behind a
large wooden desk. Two guards in civilian attire sat off to the side in
wing-backed chairs. She looked me over before speaking into a headset she was
wearing. After a moment, she smiled at Doyle.

"Mr. Doyle, you can go in; the president is
free."

"Thank you," he said nodding, and waved for me
to follow. I noticed the two guards watching me like a lose rattlesnake. Doyle
knocked on the door, waited for acknowledgement, and then opened the door,
waving me in before him. As he did, a tall man with graying hair stood and came
walking around the desk to meet us.

"Mr. President, this is Captain Sapir of the Black
Guard. Captain Sapir, Mr. Marshall is the President of the United
Freelands," Doyle said. I gave a small bow toward Marshall's outstretched
hand.

"I forgot. The Black Guard do not shake hands.
Keeps you at arms length from your client?" he asked.

"No, keeps the hand too far from our weapons."

He laughed. "Want something to drink?" he
asked and then continued when I shook my head. "Have a seat,
Captain." He waved to the three chairs in front of his large ebony desk.
"I seem to have pissed off someone enough to hire professionals to shorten
my term of office by two years."

"Do you know why?"

"No. We are living in an age where too many people
believe in killing people when they get upset, as if that solved anything. But
the attempts are beyond the normal sophistication of the average citizen. They
are more professional like state sponsored assassinations."

"Does the UF sponsor assassins?" I asked,
wondering if they were trying to imply Suryah, which the Black Guard had had a
contract with to protect them from the UF.

He gave me a hard look. "Ever government does when
it affects national security."

"If every government does it, then it sounds fair
to me," I said to open mouths but continued before they could respond. "The
Black Guard doesn't care why someone is trying to kill you, but we do need to
understand the threat to construct a contract. For example, is it personal and
therefore could impact your family? Is it poorly funded locals attempting
retribution for some perceived injustice? Or is it a cause that would attract
money support and therefore experienced help and state of the art weapons? And
will you be traveling?"

"Can't we just pay for guards?" Doyle asked
sounding frustrated.

"No, you cannot. The Jax will determine the number and
type of Jax military it feels necessary to support your needs. But to determine
your needs the requirements must be specific enough to determine the risk. The
numbers are negotiable but in the end the contract must be one that you and the
Jax can agree."

"What if we don't know the specifics? Someone is
trying to kill the President of the UF!" Doyle's voice rose in anger.

"Director Doyle," Marshall said in a sharp
tone. "Doyle does have a point. It seems one can't hire the Black Guard
unless they know the specifics of the threat."

"Sir, I don't normally negotiate contracts. The Jax
Contract Committee sent me to talk to you and generate a preliminary draft because
I was near and because you specifically requested me. I believe you would be
better negotiating with the JCC." I still hadn't determined if this was an
attempt at revenge against me or a legitimate threat against Marshall or an
attempt to kill two enemies with one shot. But I was enjoying the game.

"Director Doyle, give us a minute alone."
Marshall nodded to the door. Doyle rose and reluctantly left.

"I have upset the extremists in the party. Those
idiots wanted me to call your bluff on Suryah. So they have decided to ignore
the democratic process and replace me several years early. They feel our vice
president would be more understanding. And I suspect those same people would
like to make you pay for embarrassing them. Does that help clarify the
situation?" Marshall walked over and poured himself a cup of kaffa.
"Would you like one?"

"Yes, thank you," I said stalling for time to
think. Although the Jax didn't support rebel groups trying to overthrow
legitimate governments, they made no attempt to stop them unless requested through
a contract. But we did take contracts to protect important people; however, in
this case my detail would have to protect me too, which wasn't fair to them.

"You must also realize our version of history makes
you out to be a sadistic killer of unarmed soldiers."

"That's rather an oxymoron—unarmed and
soldiers?"

"Killing armed soldiers doesn't go well with 'sadistic
killer', does it?"

"Although it does fit the events," I said—and
here Marshall's eyes grew wide in shock. "Your attack ships leveled a
barracks without warning—where they thought soldiers lay sleeping."

"I didn't know that," he said quietly.

"I'll propose a contract, but it will be expensive
given all the unknowns. Maybe we can use the sadistic killer image to our
advantage."

* * *

I used my Mfi to locate one of my old contracts then
rewrote it for the UF. Three hours later, I sent a copy to the War Horse for
Captain Hwang to review. He called an hour later.

"I'm surprised you are considering a contract with
the UF," Hwang said. "Although I like the terms and I think the JCC
will also. But will the UF agree? It's very expensive."

"I think they should pay a bonus for contemplating revenge
against a Jax officer, don't you?"

"Definitely." He laughed. "I'll assemble
the team on the assumption you'll get them to agree."

"They have no choice. They will pay any price to
kill Marshall and me."

"I almost feel sorry for them. You're the last Jax
officer I'd like to play cat and mouse games with. You're a black mamba in a
mouse's skin. Good luck, Sapir."

* * *

"You're were right, this contract is expensive, and
they have no choice but to approve it. But why my wife?"

"Because I don't trust them. They are ruthless fanatics
with no honor or morals. Their conduct on Suryah proved that."

"I'll submit this to the committee for approval
since I would be signing for the UF not me personally."

I returned to the War Horse, to await their decision.

* * *

"If you get away with this, the JCC may put you on
the committee. What's the strategy?" Hwang asked that night a dinner with
his XO, Wolfson and his senior lieutenant, and me and my two lieutenants.

"The War Horse minimizes the chance they will try
to assassinate me without an attempt on Marshall. They have to fear
retaliation. The cost is excessively high so they can't afford to waste time on
several exploratory attempts to test the Guard and marine defenses. I'm hoping
they are going to try a major assault, which given we win, should be easy to
trace back to the instigators."

The room turned silent as each person thought through my
logic.

Hwang nodded. "As I said, a black mamba in a
mouse's skin."

"The fees will cause them to rush. The country could
go bankrupt in a couple of months." Hwang's XO grinned.

"That's why you wanted the heavy weapons and combat
shuttles." Wolfson nodded. "And why you worded it as in reserve, when
in fact you want it immediately available on demand."

"And the extra Guard available if Marshall travels,
that will in fact be available twenty-four seven," Elijah said.

"Sir, I believe Captain Hwang has just given you
your Jax's nickname—the Black Mamba," Ceder said to unanimous nods.
It was better than heartless bitch.

"Duty first and foremost. A duty to protect our
client and a duty to be smart, so as to minimize our casualties."

"I used to think that kind of philosophy bordered
on cowardice, but following your exploits has made a believer out of me. What
you really advocate is fighting smart versus fighting stupid, which a lot of
our officers have justified as tradition," Wolfson said, then looked to
his lieutenant. "Lieutenant Walsh, so there is no confusion, Captain Sapir
is in charge."

* * *

Late the next morning, Captain Hwang notified me the JCC
had approved the contract and it had been signed by the UF. The ship came alive
a forty marines and forty-one Black Guards prepared to board the waiting four
marine combat shuttles. An hour later the equipment and troops were in the
process of boarding when I arrived. To my surprise, Captain Hwang and Colonel
Wolfson were in the bay talking.

"Good morning, Captain, Colonel." I bowed in
respect.

"This is a great contract, but it's too great. I
know you think you understand the situation and have taken reasonable
precautions, but call if you need support. You have Jax family up here with
enough power to propel the UF back to the Stone Age," Hwang said.

Wolfson grinned. "The cat awaits you, Black
Mamba."

I left Hwang and Wolfson discussing the contract and
boarded. We landed inside the capital building grounds and Doyle met me and
escorted me to see Marshall.

"You were right, Captain Sapir. They didn't even
blink at the price. I think they hate you more than me."