Duty and Obligation

by Sean Benjamin

  Dylan casually turned around and made for the nearest table of food and drink. He took up a position next to Scarecrow, a tall, lean man who was loading a plate with finger food while deliberately ignoring his surroundings. Scarecrow had cut his hair to just one stage above shaved and the new haircut changed his entire look. He rubbed his hand over the bristles on his scalp. “Still not used to it,” Scarecrow said as Whitlock took up station beside him.

  Dylan looked at Scarecrow intently and said, “You need to stop doing that. It tells everyone that the short hair is a recent change, and you’re still adapting to it. We don’t need anyone wondering about that.” Scarecrow nodded and Whitlock softened a bit saying, “Sorry, but we had to change your look. With your mop of red hair on top of your thin body, people would remember you. Not a good trait for this mission.” He smiled at his closest friend. “I appreciate your sacrifice for the team.”

  Scarecrow smiled back. “I’ll watch it. It’s not all bad. Gabby likes the new look.”

  “It’s well worth it then.” Whitlock switched subjects. “Hochstadt was looking at roughly half the room and he was focusing on blondes.”

  “So we run Gabby at him first?” asked Scarecrow.

  Dylan nodded. He glanced at the entrance in search of the other half of their team. Gabrielle or Jasmine would be the key to getting close to Baron Ernst Hochstadt. Gabby was blonde so would get the first turn at becoming the Baron’s date. If circumstances changed, Jazz would be available for Hochstadt to dazzle with his charm.

  Dylan looked at his watch. “They should be here any minute.” He placed a hand on Scarecrow’s shoulder and commiserated with his friend. “Sorry it’s your girlfriend up first.” Scarecrow shrugged and smiled. “Maybe Gabby will flame out and your girlfriend will get her chance at royalty.” Dylan smiled back. “One can only hope.”

  Dylan glanced at his companion briefly before saying, “Once they come in, they will set up on the edge of Hochstadt’s sensor sweep. I’ll move in on Gabby and try to get a dance. I’ll be persistent while Gabby moves toward Hochstadt without appearing to notice him.”

  “Think Hochstadt will come to her rescue?”

  “Yup. For men like Hochstadt, the only thing better than getting a beautiful woman is taking her away from another man and being obvious about it.”

  “Where did you get so well informed?”

  “Jazz told me,” replied Dylan. “You know I don’t know a damn thing about women.”

  “What man does?” commiserated Scarecrow. They exchanged smiles.

  Dylan glanced toward the doors and saw the second pair of his team coming down the hall about to make an entrance. Gabby wore green and Jazz wore red. A fluff article on the Baron two years back stated those were his favorite colors. Both women looked fantastic. Dylan had originally thought to set up both women near the Baron, but he knew the women would be spectacular so he told them to set up further away so as to be a less obvious trap for the Baron. The longer range would not dim the desired effect on their target.

  He looked at Scarecrow and nodded slightly. Scarecrow knew that meant the two women were walking in and nodded in return without looking at the entrance. The women knew the introduction plan. The only variable was which woman Whitlock would try to pick up and provide the Baron with an opportunity to “rescue” her. Since Hochstadt seemed to be inclined toward blondes this evening, the blonde Gabrielle would get first shot at being saved and gaining an introduction to Baron Ernst Hochstadt, nephew to the Emperor.

  Gabrielle would be the conduit into the Baron’s world. They would learn Hochstadt’s routine and schedule and see if an opportunity presented itself to kill him. This was Plan B. Plan A had been to have the Baron perish in what would be perceived as an accident, preferably an accident caused by the Baron himself. Dylan and his hit team were open to arranging anything that might work. Hochstadt could fall and hit his head while drunk. He could die driving too fast in an expensive air car. An overdose of party drugs would have been acceptable. An obvious accident would mean there would be no police involvement as there would be no villains or criminals to pursue and arrest. Also, this type of “self-generated” mishap would limit the amount of sympathy the death would produce. Whitlock wanted the lead for every media story to be a nice version of “idiot royal guy kills himself in a stupid way.” People would see the event as cosmic payback for real or supposed trespasses committed by the rich royals and that would be the end of it. A one-day story on the death and a one-day story on the remembrance/funeral which would focus more on the current styles the high society “mourners” were wearing than on the dearly departed.

  However, this scenario had proved to be too much of a challenge to set up. The team had read everything they could find on their target, and it soon became apparent that their work was cut out for them. Hochstadt did not do drugs. He drank in moderation on the rare occasions when he drank at all. He drove seldom, and when he did, little old ladies passed him by, probably while making obscene gestures due to his slow progress. All this was well documented, so any variation in his routine or habits that resulted in his death would be difficult to explain away. The Baron was the sane one when compared to his playboy cousin, Joseph, and Hochstadt seemed happy in the role of pillar-of-the-royal-family.

  The Baron led a responsible life with only two continuous themes standing out. He liked money, and he liked women. He was always on the lookout to gain either or both. He had several business ventures going all the time, and he was so blatant in his womanizing, one almost felt sorry for his wife, Admiral Cynthia Hochstadt. Almost. Dylan reflected that the wife had a very successful military career, and the royal connection probably had helped that along. Maybe that was all she wanted from the marriage. Whitlock and his team didn’t dwell on Admiral Hochstadt. When planning to kill a man, it was best not to consider the effect on his family.

  The four would-be assassins were at a loss on how to set this guy up. The lack of an obvious opportunity and their own inexperience in this type of work had led Dylan to propose throwing one of the women at him and seeing what developed. Not the most detailed plan, and he didn’t want to put either woman in a position they didn’t want to be in. Happily, Gabby and Jazz were fine with the idea. Both had been handling men for years, and this was just another job to them.

  Now the plan was set in motion at the charity gala. As the two women approached the entrance to the ballroom, they separated and moved in opposite directions. It would seem as if they were strangers who had arrived at the door at the same time due to coincidence. The plan was for Dylan to make advances on one woman who would end up with Hochstadt, and Dylan would then move on to the other woman so as to remove himself as a rival for the first woman. Which woman had been left to Dylan’s last-minute recon before the plan was put into effect. Now the decision had been made and since the two of women were far apart now, Dylan would set the plan in motion by approaching one of them.

  “Wish me bad luck,” Dylan said as he moved toward Gabby.

  “Bad luck,” Scarecrow responded to Dylan’s back.

  The two women had set up as planned, each an equal distance from the Baron on opposite sides of the room. Since both beautiful women were unescorted, they were already drawing interest, and it would be only a short time before someone approached each of them—probably several someones. Whitlock moved with a purpose. The last thing he needed was competition from innocent male bystanders. He approached Gabby and asked for a dance. She declined. He insisted. She declined. She turned to walk away in a direction that happened to lead toward the Baron. Whitlock followed just slightly behind her. He left her alone as he didn’t want to be obvious and have some savior from the nearby crowd coming to her rescue before the Baron made a move. He was content to follow just behind her left shoulder like a dog hanging around the dinner table hoping for a treat to come his way.

  The Baron noticed the entire episode as he had homed in on the two women as soon as they had entered the ballroom.
He set his glass down as Gabby came within reasonable talking range.

  “Ah, there you are, my dear!” he exclaimed in a slightly raised voice. He swept forward with a big smile and extended his hand. “I am so pleased to see you have finally arrived. Will you do me the honor of this dance?”

  Gabrielle gave a grateful smile to her savior and accepted his hand. The Baron led her by Whitlock to the center of the dance floor. He studiously avoided looking at Whitlock. The newly minted couple danced a classic waltz among several other couples on the floor. Whitlock stared after them long enough so both could see him looking at them with scorn in his eyes. He then wandered in Jasmine’s general direction. He would engage her in conversation shortly and get lucky there.

  Gabrielle danced very well, and Hochstadt was her equal in grace and skill. They made a fine couple on the floor. Her beauty, his regal bearing, and their combined dancing skill drew every eye in the large room. Dylan realized Gabrielle would be remembered by all the observers. This could be a detriment to the mission, but nothing could be done about that. To ensure she captured the Baron’s attention, she had to capture everyone else’s attention also. As the dance ended, the Baron extended his arm, and Gabrielle placed her arm on top of his, and they departed the dance floor to the Baron’s original position at the far end of the room. He took up his spot there, and Gabrielle stood next to him. The previous horde that had been around the Baron moved a bit away before setting up in a group again. They knew how this was done. The Baron would be left alone to work his magic. The aristocrat scanned the room to ensure Whitlock was no longer a threat. He noticed him chatting with Jasmine and concluded the young man was no longer a player in this game. He then turned to Gabrielle.

  He bowed slightly. “May I introduce myself? I am the Baron Ernst Hochstadt.” He smiled as he straightened up. “I’ll leave off the family heritage stuff. It is all quite boring. Please call me Ernst.”

  Gabrielle extended her hand, and the Baron kissed it. “Thank you for the rescue, Ernst. My name is Gabrielle. Please call me… Gabrielle.” She smiled her most winning smile. The Baron responded. “No last name, Gabrielle?”

  “In this age of endless information at all our fingertips, I tend to be a bit circumspect in such matters. I don’t want uninvited guests at my doorstep at all hours because they tracked me down through my name.”

  “Imminently practical, Gabrielle. I promise never to show up at your door unless invited.”

  Gabrielle gave a practiced laugh that didn’t sound practiced at all. “I suspect you are just like the man you saved me from. Only much more cultured.”

  Hochstadt leaned in as if to confide in her. “Guilty on both counts.” He smiled as Gabrielle responded with a laugh. The baron grew a bit more serious. “I have never seen you before, Gabrielle. Is this your first time at such an event?”

  Gabriella responded with a coy tone. “Perhaps I have been to several of these, and this is the first time you have noticed me.”

  Now the Baron laughed. “Come, Gabrielle, you know better. A beautiful woman such as yourself would never go unnoticed anywhere. Your beauty lights up this room. Surely, you see the men giving you secretive glances and me jealous looks.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” she responded with the right pitch in her voice that showed she had noticed and was quite used to it. “As a matter of fact, this is my first social event. I arrived here last week. I received an invitation from a lady neighbor. She said they are always in need of pretty women at these gatherings, and I should come and meet people. The woman and her husband were supposed to escort me, but a family emergency caused them to cancel at the last minute.” She now leaned toward the Baron. “I decided to be brave and come alone.”

  “I am so pleased you did,” Hochstadt responded. He turned to the room and its occupants. “You must forgive some of the people at these charity events. I love supporting all these worthwhile endeavors but, in an effort to throw the widest possible net for donations, often these occasions attract a few people with more money than manners. It is unfortunate you met one of them as your first experience here. I do assure you the majority of the people around you are safe and friendly. You should mingle and get to know some of them.”

  Gabrielle knew this was a test. If she took advantage of the offer, Hochstadt would know she was not really interested in him, and she was taking the first opportunity to gracefully separate from him while not creating a scene or bad feelings. If she stayed with him, he knew he had a chance with her. The middle road was to ask him to introduce her around the room. Gabrielle wouldn’t do that as she did not want to make more of an impression on these people than was necessary. She also didn’t want invitations to future social happenings from members in this crowd. If she stayed with the Baron, everyone would leave her alone.

  She shook her head slightly. “I am quite comfortable here if that is convenient for you.”

  He bowed his head slightly. “It is truly my pleasure, madam.”

  Jasmine and Dylan were dancing on the far side of the room. As the slighted party from the earlier tiff, Dylan was obligated to ignore the new couple, but Jasmine provided sitreps as they turned around the floor.

  “She’s got him,” Jazz reported in a calm “was-there-ever-any-doubt” tone. She smiled at her partner. Dylan smiled back. He did not question the verdict. The two women knew this game better than anyone. As intimates, they had trained for it and practiced it for years. This social occasion was their hunting ground much like Flot 1 stalked the Badlands. Whitlock spoke in a low voice. “Stage 1 is a success.”

  Chapter 10

  Light Admiral Eugene Muller reviewed the after action report from his deputy squadron commander. Captain Bertha Schmidt, second in command and captain of the battlecruiser Panther, had been overseeing the convoy system that Muller had begun in his Green Squadron’s AOR. At first, few ships wanted to participate as all convoys travel at the speed of the slowest ships and the convoy’s schedule never matched up with individual ship schedules. Regardless of whether the ships were independent or corporation owned, money was made by moving the most cargo available to its destination by the most direct route, picking up more cargo there and then repeating the procedure as rapidly as possible. Convoys are slow and never go by the most direct route to anywhere.

  Admiral Muller was not worried about the initial lack of interest by the merchant ships. He knew the majority would never be interested because they had nothing to fear from the Royal Navy squadron or the pirates of Raferty Hawkins. They would continue to run their own schedules as efficiently as possible so as to maximize their profit. If stopped by the Royal Navy or Hawkins’ pirates, they would allow a search. After all, they had nothing to hide.

  But other ships did have something to hide. Those are the ships that interested Muller. In a convoy protected by Goldenes Tor ships, these merchant ships could not be stopped and boarded by any Royal Navy or Flotilla One ships. That was highlighted in Schmidt’s report on the last convoy she had escorted. Two attempts by Royal Navy ships trying to interdict the convoy were turned away. Both attempts were followed by pirate ships appearing within a few hours. The intruders just trailed the convoys until they reached their ports. Word would spread that the Goldenes Tor Imperial Navy was protecting ships from being boarded and searched. The Royal Navy and Hawkins would have to do something about that if they were going to enforce their Measure 200. Perhaps that would bring them to combat.

  Muller had talked to other squadrons about the convoy system and had sent a position paper to Third Fleet HQ on Rosstrappe. He had yet to hear back from headquarters, but Blue Squadron under Dietrich had informally declined to participate. Gold Squadron under Admiral Wilma Landau was interested, and she had the Cinnamon system in her AOR. Parading convoys by the Royal Navy base at Agra 2 would be particularly galling to that allied force. Both Hawkins and the Royal Navy commanders would know those ships were in the convoy because they had something to hide, and there was nothing they could d
o about it without a battle. Sooner or later, they would come out to fight. A victory over Raferty Hawkins would be a rare achievement in the Imperial Navy. Even if Hawkins himself escaped, the myth of his great cunning and invincibility would be shattered. Muller could live with that. In his view, Hawkins had benefitted from luck and the lack of a concerted effort by the Goldenes Tor to bring the man down. Muller thought this plan would do that. He had thought a major mistake in dealing with Hawkins was the Imperial Navy was always searching for him and his pirates. Thus, Hawkins had the option of accepting battle on his terms only. This convoy system would bring Hawkins to the Imperial Navy. Hawkins may ignore the convoys for a while but, eventually, he would be forced to address the issue. He couldn’t sit back and let the slave trade thrive right under his nose. When Hawkins moved to the attack, Muller hoped it would be against Green Squadron. His people would be ready. Green Squadron had lost ships to the pirates for years. They were anxious to return the favor. Revenge would be long delayed but that would make it so much the better when it happened.

  Chapter 11

  “Skyler Mallory, you bloody twit.”

  Sky stopped and smiled as she listened to the footsteps of the speaker of the insult approach from behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to identify the speaker. She would know that voice anywhere. She turned now and her smile broadened as she saw Captain Jack Wilson stop in front of her.

  Jack Wilson had been in her company at The Academy. He had been two years ahead of her and was a squad leader. Unlike the majority of the upperclassmen, Jack did not harass the new midshipmen or ignore them. He was always a friend and advisor to them. After an initial outburst of “You bloody twit!” Wilson would go into teaching mode. Whether it was the proper physical technique for each obstacle on the endurance course, shortcuts to uniform preparation, the instructors to avoid, or the best beer joints in town, Jack Wilson was willing to teach and share knowledge. He would actively chase off his peers from bothering the newcomers and sarcastically taunt the more senior midshipmen if they engaged in harassment. As a result of all this, Jack was disliked by his peers and senior midshipmen and loved by those junior to him.