The Black Guard: Book II: Evolution (Black Guard Series 2) Page 2

  "You're in charge of my security. What do you suggest?"

  "I stay with you night and day, beginning now. That will not only mean I will be near enough to you to effect the action if trouble happens, but it may help me anticipate potential problems before they occur. As you are well aware, surprise is our enemy's greatest advantage." Logically, the two security guards outside the general's office couldn't protect him from anyone the general invited into his office. Lerman was silent for a long time before speaking.

  "I chose you because I thought you were the one person who could survive the risk I'm putting ... us in. Therefore, I have to let you do it your way. You're in charge, Dragon Sapir. You make the rules."

  "Thank you, sir." I stood, found a spot where I had a good view of anyone opening the door, and leaned back against the wall.

  "Surely you can rest while we're on the Deathstalker," he said while frowning.

  "I would like our routine to be normal by the time we depart for Outpost."

  * * *

  "You could join me for dinner, Sapir," Lerman said, waving to the seat next to him. We were alone in his private dining room. His server, a petty officer, had laid out a platter of steak, potatoes, greens, a salad, and red wine on the table in front of him. I had served myself after the general had been served and went to the end of the table, which could accommodate eight to ten, and sat.

  "Sir, we are establishing our routine on Outpost. I will not be eating with you whether you are with someone or not. I will find a place where I can keep you and the area in sight. If I sit with or near you, I'll not only be distracted but also unable to watch your back."

  "Interesting. My normal everyday security follows me but guards access to the room or the area ... not me specifically, now that I think of it. Is this normal Guard procedure?" Lerman asked, and stopped eating, awaiting my response.

  I hesitated, thinking back to my Guard training. "Not specifically. The Guard's normal assignments are to provide building security for a specific person or persons, so access control is considered adequate. I've always considered that a weakness easily exploited."

  "How?" He absent-mindedly took a bite of his steak, but his gaze stayed fixed on me.

  "If I wore the right uniform, how hard would it be to walk up to your guards, kill them, and then enter and shoot you?"

  Lerman laughed. "We do tend to think in terms of an armed assault and not assassins. Even an armed assault would have the advantage, as the guards have no protection in the hallway. So you are saying my security is mostly pomp and ceremony and not protection."

  "It's adequate, since the odds of someone wanting to kill you are minuscule on Jax. They may not be high on Outpost but certainly higher than on Jax."

  "I also carry a weapon." He held up a standard shard gun.

  "General Lerman, please don't attempt to use it except as a last resort if I'm dead or incapacitated."

  "I know how to shoot the damn thing!" His voice rose with each word and his face flushed with anger.

  "Sir, I'm not doubting your ability to hit a standing target with more accuracy than the average soldier. Nor do I think you would hesitate to shoot to kill. I'm concerned you will block my field of vision and make yourself a target." I almost smiled. This was typical client indoctrination—educating the client and dispelling his misconceptions. Although I couldn't tell the general I'd leave if he wouldn't follow my rules.

  "Come with me," he said rising from the table with his dinner still only half eaten. He didn't look in a good mood.

  I wasn't sure what he intended as I followed him out the door and down the hallway with the two marines following. He took the elevator to the ground floor, and several minutes later we entered the marine area. There a colonel intercepted us, probably alerted by the general's security guards.

  "General Lerman, can I help you?"

  "Yes, Colonel Ortega, I want the target range cleared. I'm going to show my Black Guard security that even army generals can hit the target." He was still shouting, but now there was a hint of excitement in his tone. This would tell me a lot about the general. I couldn't let him win! I revised that thought. I had to do my best even though it might embarrass him. His reaction would determine our future relationship, on Outpost and back on Jax. I concluded it didn't matter. Anything else would be wrong—for him and for me.

  When we arrived, the three marines stopped their practice and the range officer hurriedly set up new targets. There were ten targets: ten figures either standing, kneeling, or partially concealed behind some object at distances between twenty and thirty meters.

  The general had the good sense to wait for the young lieutenant in charge of the range to sound the all-clear horn before drawing his weapon. He took careful aim and slowly fired six times and hit five of the closest targets. The pellets had hit the kill zone on three of the five targets and missed the man and hit the object the sixth man had been partially hidden behind—a respectable showing for someone who had little opportunity or reason to shoot at anything. I concluded he took pride in maintaining his qualifying status. He turned to me with a satisfying look.

  "What do you say now?"

  "A very respectable performance, sir. I would still request that in the event trouble breaks out you do not attempt to help me."

  "You arrogant ... Lieutenant, put up new targets." After the Lieutenant had reset the targets and sounded the all-clear horn, Lerman waved toward the targets.

  I nodded, slapped my Mfw, which released it, fired ten times in rapid succession, and holstered the weapon.

  Lerman stood with his mouth open. The ten shots had taken about the same time as his first shot. He walked onto the range and examined each target before coming back to me.

  "I'd heard accounts of fantastic shooting by the Guard, but I've always assumed they were exaggerated and isolated instances. You hit all ten targets in the kill zone ... without aiming." He stood there shaking his head.

  "Sir, the army trains their troops differently from the Guard. Your primary weapon is a multifunctional gun. You spray the target in one and two-second spurts—ten to twenty pellets. If one hits the kill zone you consider that one hundred percent. The Guard would consider you missed the target nineteen times. Marine and army personnel need qualify only once a year. Guard personnel must qualify before each new assignment. And to qualify, you must hit each target in the kill zone. If you miss one, you must re-test until you don't." I didn't add, and half our targets are moving.

  Lerman laughed.

  "I thought I was being reckless bringing only one Guard, but I wanted to make a bold statement. I guess the statement isn't as reckless as I thought. I apologize, and if shooting does start, I will get out of your way."

  "Why the fanatical emphasis on accuracy?" Ortega asked.

  "We operate inside buildings where most of the time you can only expect to get one clean shot. The shooter is crossing a hallway to another room, shooting from a doorway, inside a room you must enter, etc. If you miss, the attacker either gets away or gets another chance to shoot you. I would think the situation isn't too much different for the marines during a boarding action." What was the difference between a plane and a building, I wondered.

  "A valid point, Captain. We have so few boarding actions, I think we rely on multifunctional guns and their killing bursts and forget those that died because we missed the first time." He looked around the range, and his gaze settled on a broad-shouldered master gunnery sergeant, who was collecting the targets. "If General Lerman can spare you, I'd like you to talk to my gunny."

  "Sir, I'd be glad to talk to your gunny, but I can't leave the general's side. We are establishing the protocol for Outpost," I said, feeling that was the priority.

  "It's all right, Sapir. I'll stay. You've convinced me the protocol is important." Lerman said and nodded to Ortega.

  "Gunny!" Ortega shouted and waved him over. "Gunny, you know General Lerman, and this is Captain Sapir. She makes a valid point about the similarities
between fighting in a building and fighting in an enemy cruiser."

  "General Lerman, Captain Sapir," he said, and an evil grin appeared. "Dragon, I hope you don't mind if I use the videotape of your performance to motivate my troops?"

  Ortega stayed as the gunny and I talked about the differences between Guard and marine weapons qualification procedures. By the time we had finished, Gunny had redesigned the shooting range and planned to initiate new qualification requirements, and Ortega was considering creating a special action group of sharpshooters that would be the first to board an enemy ship.

  "That's very interesting, Sapir. If Colonel Ortega and his gunny are successful in increasing his group's effectiveness, I may have them slowly implement it across the marines. If the Jax are to remain without equal, we must continue to evolve. And I think you are the instrument of that evolution.

  * * *

  By the time the Deathstalker docked at Outpost's orbiting space station, Condor, the general was comfortable with my protocol for protecting him while eating, sleeping, in meetings, and walking around. He compared it to having a shadow—always present, seen, but silent. Before we were allowed to exit, a station manager entered and gave a briefing on the rules.

  The attendees would be transported to the meeting site and assigned rooms. Only twenty ship personnel were allowed planet-side and ten on Condor at any one time, to minimize potential conflicts between the multiple planets' crews currently on the station.

  Lerman and I were then taken to a waiting shuttle and flown to a remote area about a half hour out of Joshsa City, the capital of Outpost. The ten-story building looked new, like it might have been built for this specific purpose. The gray steel and cement building had lots of narrow windows—except for the top floor, which was all windows.

  A two-story waterfall on the right side of the large lobby cascaded over a rough rock wall. On the left side, the entire wall displayed shifting landscape scenes accompanied by soothing music. Slowly shifting lights gave the scene the illusion of time changing from morning to night. And dotted around the room were gold-colored leather chairs, tables, and couches to sit and relax. Toward the back of the room, several men and women in gold jackets and green slacks, Outpost's national colors, stood behind a long reception counter. A young man in military dress, a lieutenant judging by the pip over a single band on his sleeve, stood in the middle of the room awaiting us.

  "If you will accompany me, I can get you registered and assigned rooms." He led us to the counter. I noticed multiple cameras monitoring the lobby and two armed military personnel behind the counter at each end. I had no doubt others stood available in the rooms marked by closed doors behind the counter. "This is the Jax contingent," the lieutenant said to the man standing behind the counter.

  "Good day, sir. Your name?" The young man gave us a friendly smile.

  "I'm General Lerman."

  "If I may inquire, where is your delegation, sir? They will need to be registered for security purposes."

  "Captain Sapir is my only delegate and security."

  "But ... we have rooms for twenty—"

  I held out my hand. "Give the key cards to me. All security questions and arrangements will be directed to me."

  "Yes, Captain Sapir," he said, sounding a bit rattled. He handed me a tablet and an envelope full of key cards. "Floor six is reserved for the general and ... you. The elevators are to your left. Your key cards when inserted in the elevator will take you to your floor automatically. That tablet has the meeting's schedule and other general information."

  "Thank you." I nodded and followed Lerman to the bank of elevators.

  The key card delivered an elevator to us, and a voice announced it went only to floor six. Once we were inside, the doors closed and a minute later opened on level six. I stepped out first and slowly proceeded down the hallway with Lerman following, opening each of the fourteen doors: two master suites, a large conference room, dining room, lounge, and nine bedrooms.

  "They went to a lot of expense for this meeting—modern new building, furniture, food, staff, and electronics," Lerman said as he selected one of the two master suites. "What do you think, Sapir?"

  "Don't consider this floor safe. They will have access to every floor and every room and probably have sound and maybe visual access."

  "Not very trusting," he said and smiled.

  "Very trusting, sir. I trust they will want to know what everyone is doing and thinking. We have no equipment along to verify this floor is clean, or this tablet for that matter. However:" I placed a small square gray-metal cube on the table, which when activated would defeat any listening devices.

  "So noted."

  I then went out and placed another cube in front of the elevator and another one in front of the emergency chute to the ground level and activated them. They would alert me to any intrusion.

  * * *

  "There is a dinner reception tonight at seven hundred hours on the tenth floor. Each delegation may have five guests and one security guard," Lerman said, studying his tablet.

  "Clever. It restricts the number of foreign weapons in the room and allows them to isolate each planet's security. I'd wager each delegation brought anywhere from twelve to fifteen guards and they are useless. And I'll bet they will have sufficient military present to take control if necessary."

  "Sounds about right." He nodded while continuing to read the information on the tablet. "The conference is scheduled to last five days. Tomorrow morning the real meeting begins."

  * * *

  At ten to seven, I preceded the general out of the room and into the elevator. When the door closed it announced, "This elevator is programmed to the tenth floor. Confirm or the elevator will take you to the lobby."

  "Confirm," Lerman said, and the elevator began a gentle ride up. "It appears we are authorized to go only to specific locations based upon our key cards." When the door opened, we stepped into an open room surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. An Outpost captain stood along with several armed guards with multifunctional weapons. He was holding a tablet which I'd wager had a view of the inside of each elevator.

  "Welcome, General Lerman. Is Captain Sapir part of your delegation or security?" he asked. A reasonable question since the general was entitled to five in his delegation.

  "Both. One does not like to make decisions for a Dragon in the Black Guard." He gave a wry grin and glanced sidelong at me.

  "Security for now, sir," I said, scanning the room. The table had a nonagon shape, and each of the nine sections had a five-place setting. Judging by the guards standing back against the walls, seven delegations were present.

  At seven, the delegation from Valhall arrived and shortly afterward Outpost's delegation. A tall stocky man stood while the other four at the Outpost section sat. When he picked up a microphone, those still standing found seats.

  "Welcome to Outpost. I hope you found your accommodations satisfactory. Tonight I thought we could use the dinner to get acquainted. I'm Ace Joshsa. Together with the Kuhn family, I set policy for Outpost. But times have changed since our families founded Outpost. The Helix sector has grown and is no longer a rag-tag group of settlers. We are in fact the only inhabited sector without an organized ... alliance, and therefore we are at risk both individually and as a sector. We called you together to discuss our options." His gaze scanned the room and settled on Lerman. "Why don't we start with the delegation from Jax?"

  "I'm General Lerman, representing Jax," he said with a nod. Joshsa frowned.

  "I thought Jax had two components to its government, civilian and military. Are they delayed?"

  "No. I'm representing Jax, and while I wouldn't commit Jax to any agreement, I am in a position to reject any proposal I do not believe in our best interest. If I think an agreement is in the best interest of Jax, then I—like several other delegations—will have to take it back for consideration and approval; therefore, I won't cause any additional delay." Lerman's voice was soft and casual, like he
was speaking to a group of friends.

  Joshsa scowled at the answer.

  The introductions took over an hour. Like Outpost, Valhall and Lariw were dictatorships run by powerful families whose ancestors had dealt in piracy and armies for sale. Ironically, Jax had initially developed its strong military to combat raiders from those planets. Chancel and Blackwood were theocracies, and Kaycia a monarchy. The remaining two, Safort and Haven, were democracies.

  * * *

  "What do you think?" Lerman asked as we stepped into the elevator to attend the first meeting.

  "I don't like the way the tables are arranged."

  "You noticed that the dictatorships were clustered together, suggesting an agreement of some kind has already been negotiated."

  "The problem with the current seating arrangement is that the firepower is focused at one end of the room, and they don't have to be careful, as they have you isolated."

  "Interesting. I see the political alignment while you see the physical threat from the positioning of the planets' guards and Outpost's security. Good, I can relax and enjoy the theatrics."

  Again the elevator announced we were going up. We arrived as everyone was beginning to take their seats. I backed against the wall and noted the positions of each guard. Outpost had five security guards today: one behind Joshsa, one on either side of me within six meters, and two on the right side of the room about midway. That concerned me because Lerman was directly in my line of sight to those two guards—he was in the kill zone.

  Joshsa stood and his microphone glowed. "As I indicated yesterday, we in the Helix are the only sector without a formal alliance to protect ourselves from the others' sectors raiding or dictating their rules to us. Individually, the strongest of us is weak; however, collectively we would be a formable force. So I am proposing a formal alliance among the nine systems represented here. I would like to hear everyone's thoughts and concerns. Valhall?" Joshsa turned toward the group to his right.