“I can’t argue with that.” Rys shook his head, descending the stairs with his usual staccato two-step. “What’s more, after this, Nova won’t have a leg to stand on anywhere in this quadrant. Their credibility is totally shot. It sucks being them today.”
“That puts the sprinkles and whipped cream on my whole week. All of the planning and pick and shovel work in the trenches was definitely worth it.” Erksome lowered his tone a bit, eyes twinkling madly. “I think Minister Dorian owes us all a first rate steak dinner for rescuing him and his buddies from the big, bad Novians. What do you think, sir, can you get on board with that?”
“I think he owes us dinner and two desserts at the very least,” Rys responded with mock-seriousness.
“I just knew you’d be sympathetic to my position, sir.”
They finally reached the ground level which was crawling with people. The hostages were in the process of being screened by extremely professional Guardsmen with special training to deal with post-traumatic stress. The hostages suffering from serious shock were being directed to a large mobile medical unit parked near the front of the building. There was a long line where the National Guard was doing yet another thorough screening to make sure the hostages hadn’t been infiltrated or compromised. Rys noted that as soon as someone was cleared, they were escorted out of the building and to the right, into the large garden to the side of the building. No doubt staff would start debriefing people there, getting witness statements on record while their memories were still fresh. Some bureaucrat had erred on the side of mercy and the Guardsmen were admitting prescreened family members into the secured area.
Rys kept going, pushing his way through to the outside, plowing ahead with single minded purpose straight for the front gates.
Gremlin, have you located Anne yet?
“RYS!”
“Ten feet to your right, sir,”
Gremlin responded dryly.
Rys quickly swung the rifle in his hands onto his left shoulder as he turned sharply, eyes searching until he saw her. There. She was fighting her way toward him, shouldering past people obstructing her path, eyes broadcasting overt worry. He managed three entire steps before she reached him. It was difficult to judge if she initiated a launch on her part, or if it was more of a case of a simultaneous lunge. Rys wrapped both arms around her waist, buried his face into the crook of her neck, and just breathed her in. At this particular moment he couldn’t think of a single thing he needed to be doing, or a place he would rather be.
“Tell me you’re okay,” she demanded into his shoulder, not daring to let go of him even to take a cursory inventory.
“Not a scratch,” he promised huskily, his emotions bleeding through. “We’re all fine. Nobody got hurt, except for Nova, of course.”
“Thank the Guardians, each and every one of them,” she breathed. She lifted her head and tilted it back, capturing his mouth with hers.
The kiss was fierce and ardent, filled with too many emotions to even consider counting. A part of Rys objected that they shouldn’t be kissing like
this
in public, especially while he was in uniform. He was not about to give a voice to that particular opinion. Considering the afternoon he’d just enjoyed, he deserved some leeway for his RR. Completely consumed in a long self-centered moment, he wallowed in his contentment, wishing the clocks would all die at once, due to some mysterious glitch.
Anne leaned back far enough so she could touch her forehead to his, with arms tight around his waist. “Thank you for riding to the rescue today. Most of all, thank you for keeping your promise to me.”
Rys knew that the thanks were deep and heartfelt. He also knew that the brimming tears standing in her eyes betrayed the fact that there was so much more roiling up inside of her heart. It was a sure bet that they would start overflowing the dam soon. Hoping that a small dose of well-timed humor might help shore up her reeling equilibrium, he smiled and replied easily as he came to attention, “On behalf of Special Forces 01, you’re welcome, ma’am. Lieutenant Erksome is hoping that your gratitude might extend to complete steak dinners and double desserts all around.”
Anne blinked, mentally making a heroic effort to switch tracks, without completely running off of the rails. She finally just threw her head back and began laughing. The vice like grip she had maintained on Rys eased sufficiently that his blood might be able to continue making the rounds in his veins again. She turned to look at Rys’s second in command standing by, observing them in rapt amusement.
“Really, Jason, you just want a steak dinner with all of the trimmings and TWO desserts? That’s all you’re asking for in return for restoring all of these politicians and military leaders to their rightful place in the sun? You work cheap! I would seriously consider getting an agent if I were you. Even with a twenty percent commission you would still come out money ahead!”
“Well, since your dad was inside with the rest of them,” Erksome ventured, eyes crinkling, “we are allowing you the full friends and family discount rate.”
Laughing all the harder, she reached out one arm, snagged him around the neck, and pulled him in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You guys are the absolute
best.
”
Erksome returned the hug. Under his Captain’s watchful eye, he didn’t exceed the “three second rule” governed by strict decorum and a well-defined sense of self-preservation.
Candace came up behind her sister, eyes a mirror image of Anne’s just a few moments ago. “Rys, where’s Bran?”
“Outside the perimeter wandering around somewhere,” Rys answered reassuringly. “He wasn’t in the line of fire, so don’t worry. The worst thing he was up against was eye strain from continually scanning five computer screens at once.” Candace nearly sagged, letting out a sharp sigh of relief. Rys inclined his head toward her with a quick motion. “Erksome, why don’t you escort Candy Cane to find her lost Gremlin?”
Candace stuck her tongue out at Rys for this new honorarium in place of her given name, but gratefully followed the path Erksome cut through the sea of people in front of them. From the intent look on her face, she was on a priority mission of her own.
Anne looked around them, forehead furrowing, a question clearly on her mind. “Rys, when can we go home?”
“After we all provide our statements, and I give a formal after-action report —” to whom he would be reporting he wasn’t quite sure, since he and his Teams initiated this mission. That probably meant he would have to give at least three or four reports to different branches, both military and civilian “— then, yes, we can probably go home.”
She didn’t like the vagueness of that answer. Her frown deepened. “And when do you suppose you
might
be finished with that?”
“Before sunrise, if I’m fortunate. I was the Mission Commander, so my personal reports will take longer, and be more comprehensive than the rest of my team. I will most likely be the one turning off the lights on my way out the door.” Rys had the bad feeling that he had used up all of his luck for a month, just getting all of the hostages out of the building unharmed. He wondered if there would be something to eat during the debriefings, or if he was going to have to gnaw on his own ankle. Did steak houses deliver orders to go?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rys badly underestimated his departure time for the barn. Anne, Candace and their mother left after her father contacted them, indicating they were going to be tied up in meetings for an unspecified period of time, and suggested that they return home. The entire Capital Complex was under military control, and authorized access was being tightly enforced. The President’s helicopter had returned him to the building within an hour of the hostage resolution, a team of grim faced doctors trailing in his wake. There was a rumor making the rounds that the Legislature was meeting around the clock in an emergency session, with armed guards posted at the doors. Teams of electronics experts were seeing to it that no one would be eavesdropping on any proceeding inside the entire complex.
Heavy industrial generators were arrayed in endless columns, to insure there would be no interruption in the flow of power at this critical time. If Nova had any plans to counterattack the building by sabotaging a power station, their efforts would have been wasted. It was doubtful that anyone inside would have even noticed a minor dip in the lights, even if Nova had been able to shut down the electrical grid to the entire city.
Catering trucks formed long lines in an attempt to keep an army of Legislators and their staffs adequately fed. The military had set up mobile field kitchens, and their personnel were eating in regular shifts around the clock. New troops were arriving hourly, and tent cities were springing up as if by magic to accommodate them. Very little of the verdant lawns that covered the Capitol landscaping were currently in evidence.
Civilians sequestered in the building complexes were catching naps wherever they could find a quiet place to lie down. A vacant storage room or the knee space under an unoccupied desk was a real find. Rolls of paper towels disappeared from supply closets, and were being used as handy pillows. If you actually needed a paper towel to wipe your dripping hands, you just had to make do by wiping them on your pants. Jackets and coats doubled as blankets, and all unclaimed articles of clothing in the abundant Lost and Found bins attracted new owners without any problem.
The Press was restricted from entering the cordoned off area around the entire Capitol Building; there was an official news blackout in effect. With a total void of any reportable fresh news, the correspondents were reduced to interviewing each other. They stated and restated anything and everything they knew, no matter how insignificant. They trotted out “experts” and speculated endlessly on what might be going on inside that imposing building behind them at the moment. It was hard to produce any real experts on this situation, since there had never been a situation like this. The Press, both individually and collectively, tried to raise pressure for information with their usual contacts inside the halls of power, but they might just as well have been talking to a solid granite wall. No press releases, no interviews, no news leaks, no exceptions. They were staring at a dry well of information, and would just have to stand and wait until there was an official news release.
Telecommunication lines were jammed with unprecedented traffic. The number of calls being placed went through the roof, and the time of day didn’t seem to affect their volume at all. It was next to impossible to communicate off world; all but essential sanctioned transmissions were being routinely refused. Customer Service Representatives were nearing meltdown, trying to appease irate customers used to having their way.
The Space Ports were hives of activity, both Military and civilian transports, in the mix. It was difficult to find any common thread in all of this feverish commotion, with one glaring exception. All of the myriad of dissimilar spacecraft were departing, but there were
no
arrivals. Scheduled passenger flights had been cancelled by all of the carriers at the same time, and there was no explanation as to why, or when flights might be resumed. Even more perplexing was the complete absence of craft in any of their hangers. Here and there the odd transport or a ferry might be seen, but none were flightworthy. These were being repaired by a remarkable number of technicians.
The average citizen was completely out of the loop on what might be taking place as the hours dragged into days. The unprovoked attack by Nova, over something as relatively benign as trade negotiations and boundary disputes was shocking. The absence of any official statement on the matter, or what sort of action was being contemplated, hung like a brooding cloud over the entire city. It raised an increasing level of concern and anxiety in the general population, cutting across all party lines and political leanings. What was going on, and how long would they have to wait to get some reliable information on the current situation? It was anyone’s guess.
As the sun began to wane on the third day of the crisis, something finally seemed to be happening. Civilian aides began setting up a podium and speakers on the Capitol steps. Chairs were in short supply, so they just set up poles and cords to contain the sea of press that had been assembling themselves over the last 72 hours. To say that they were in a somber mood was an understatement, and the armed Capitol Guard lining the steps gave clear warning that this impending press conference would not be “business as usual.”
The outside lights were winking into existence by the time the President and his Military advisors and civilian aides appeared on the steps. The President never broke stride, and took his place at the podium without any preamble or introduction. The assembled audience of reporters, associates, friends, and family of those that had occupied the building were motionless and silent. Everyone wanted to know what had transpired while they waited and worried. It was clear that the answers would be forthcoming.
The President looked tired and road weary. He had probably been wearing the same clothes since the attack on the Capitol three days ago. He had a serious, no nonsense air about him, but at the same time he was confident about the words he was about to share with a waiting planet.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologize for the information blackout imposed for the past three days. When you hear what I have to say you will understand the necessity for it. As you all know the Capitol came under attack by the Armed Forces of Nova three days ago. It was unprovoked and occurred during good faith negotiations between our representatives and the appointed representatives of the Novan Government. This conference covered the disputed boundaries of Fourth Colony territory, as well as trade routes through those territories, and trade concerns from the member planets of our entire quadrant.
“No one could have been more shocked than I when armed Novian troops entered my office and put me under arrest. In the ensuing hours as a hostage, I had time to reflect on how this impossible situation had been allowed to become a reality. I have had any number of meetings and discussions with the surviving members of the Fourth Colony Government over the last few months. While I appreciated the gravity of their situation, as exiles from a disputed territory, I thought that was as far as it went, never dreaming there was more to it.”