When Diplomacy Fails . . . by Michael Z. Williamson Read Free Book Online

problem was that she used geometric or logarithmic progression. They tried not to share that fact.
    Alex said, “Jason will be waiting on the ground, with Cady, and they should have a minimum battlefield kit ready for us. They’ll bring it in before we go out.”
    Aramis said, “I like this gig better all the time.”
    “I’m just wondering when it will go south,” Alex said guardedly. “We aren’t getting a big check for nothing.”
    On his right, Shaman said, “Not all our contracts have been dangerous. Only about one in four. Though they tend to make up the difference in value. I’m considering that she certainly has a strong opinion of her value, and until the last ninety days before the election, she’s not eligible for Special Service Branch protection. If she thinks there’s a threat, we are arguably better than BuState security, and she’s not the one covering the tab.”
    “There is that,” Alex agreed. “And she’s certainly made a lot of claims of enemies.”
    Aramis asked, “You think there’s more to those stories than grandstanding?”
    Alex shrugged. “There may be, which would justify us being here. It could also be that our presence is supposed to suggest there’s more to those stories, for campaign purposes.”
    Bart said, “Let’s hope that’s the case, and run a tight operation. Either way, it’s what we’re paid for.”
    Aramis said, “And no quibbles over weapons. So it’s certainly not one of our worst assignments.”

CHAPTER 4

    JASON DIDN’T LIKE THE PLAN. Even inside the driver’s compartment of a nicely climate-controlled Improved Attack Resistant Personnel Carrier outfitted as an executive transport. He watched the putatively secure feed of the landing shuttle, and fidgeted. He sweated in his suit.
    Tactically, everything was sound. The rest of the team would land with their principal in a few minutes. He had good leads in the area and an advance recon.
    The strategic questions were what triggered his senses. BuState had security guards, and there was no spoken, outright threat to her at this point. Keeping it in-house would make political and economic sense. The only reason he could come up with for using Ripple Creek was to make them some sort of cover. Either they expected threats of a level that would be politically infeasible to handle themselves, or they planned to toss the team to the wolves. Or both.
    Of course, it was possible she was just using their image for political gain.
    It seemed unlikely, though. They weren’t popular in the press, so she wouldn’t pick up votes from their presence. The perceived threat level, however . . .
    In the compartment behind him were Agent Jace Cady and two of her people. It was possible to shimmy between the two areas, though not easily.
    Cady always looked exotically elegant, and if you didn’t know she’d started out male, you’d probably never guess. They’d even adjusted her wrist angles, as well as her hips. If you watched, though, she had the residual habits of someone raised male.
    Malcolm Lionel and Roger Edge were just suited goons to look at, but very good at their jobs. Malcolm was from Antigua, Roger very English.
    “You seem agitated,” Cady said.
    He said, “Yeah, and I shouldn’t be. Except there’s no good reason for her to use us.”
    “It could be they’re both cautious and wanting distance. They can blame us for being excessive and have it forgotten in the news a day later.”
    “True. I hope that’s all it is. We’re paid to take the blame.”
    Cady said, “Well, our perimeter, their perimeter and all nonphysical perimeters are secure. I’ve got our own bugs in the commo, and they’ll shriek if anyone else touches the lines.”
    “You always do a fine job. I’ve got no concerns about that.” He idly ran hands over the controls, eager to do something.
    “Thank you.”
    “No problem. I am worried about a less than friendly principal and unseen threats.”
    “Of course. You’re also