Duty and Obligation

by Sean Benjamin

  Baby Doll shook her head. “We made about a thousand mistakes during this entire episode. Looking back on it, I’m amazed we survived let alone pulled off the escape.

  “Anyway, Rafe fired through the glass and hit two of the guards. In the excitement, Killian and the prisoners jumped up and helped subdue all three guards. I ran to the rear of the truck. Killian was yelling that the passenger guard had the keys. We got the keys and opened the back. Killian got all the guards’ wallets and weapons. She jumped down, and the other prisoners followed her. She then reached back in and grabbed one of the guards by the hair and pulled him out onto the ground. He was wounded and beat up a little so didn’t put up much of a fight. She then proceeded to kick his face in. She shot the other two still laying in the van to ensure they were dead.”

  Baby Doll paused while she stared at the table. “That was the first indication as to what had happened to her in prison. We should have known but didn’t. She made sure the driver and passenger guard were dead and got all their valuables and weapons. Then she followed us. We grabbed Harold Depaul and carried him to the car, irons and all. The other prisoners from the van began to scatter. Rafe yelled at the other prisoners to take the van or they would never get away. They came back and one of them moved to the driver’s side of the van. He pulled the body out, jumped in, and fired her up. We all ran away in the two vehicles. We got back to the road to town, and our car turned to town—but the van had to go the opposite way. There was no way it could get through town unnoticed. The van was caught about thirty minutes later. We cruised into town as a couple of police air cars passed us from town going the other way. We went through town and had hiding places in the hills beyond. We hid the car, got the two prisoners out of their irons, and ran away. The breakout left five guards dead and the authorities foaming at the mouth, but we had already planned our escape off planet. We collected our two wounded and got away clean. The end.”

  Baby Doll shrugged. “We didn’t know squat about how to pull that caper off, but the authorities were very relaxed in their procedures so that helped.” She looked Blondie in the eye. “We do know squat now and have a lot more friends to help. This time is going to be way different.” She smiled a wicked smile and so did Blondie. They ate their meal and returned to the brief.

  The attack force broke down into unit elements for final instructions and coordination down to the individual level. The detailed briefing took just under two hours. After the briefing was done, the Nemesis and Outlaw contingents moved to the hangar bay to return to Nemesis. The Gunfighter group would stay with Predator. Rafe intercepted Killian in the passageway.

  “You gotta minute?” he asked in a tone implying that she needed to have a minute or find one quickly.

  “Of course,” she answered.

  They went to his now-empty day cabin, and he went behind his desk as she took a seat in front of it. He got out the expected treats of a beer for each of them and settled in his chair. They opened their bottles and took a drink. She looked at him expectantly.

  He started the conversation. “You didn’t object to one aspect of the plan and didn’t have a single argument with anyone. I’m wondering about that.”

  “Nothing to wonder about. It’s a good plan, and we should pull this off without a hitch.”

  Now Rafe was really on his guard. “That’s a crock, and you know it. You always argue over a plan. Sometimes just for argument’s sake. I swear if we had a plan where one step of it was everyone had to scratch his or her ass for five seconds, you would argue about which cheek to scratch.”

  She smiled. “Come on now. Everyone knows it would be the right one.”

  Rafe held up one hand toward her with the palm up in a “proves-my-point” gesture. “There you go. I would argue it would be the left one as most people are right-handed so would have their weapons in their right hand and their left hands would be free to do the scratching.”

  They smiled at each other and Hawkins continued. “You aren’t arguing the plan at all. Totally out of character for you. When people act out of character, it always gets me to thinking. Right now, I’m thinking you aren’t arguing over the plan because you have no intention of following the plan anyway, so why argue over it. Am I right?”

  O’Hare looked suitably insulted. “No. I’m onboard with this. You get mad when I argue, and you get mad when I don’t argue. I can’t win here.”

  Hawkins was not taken in. “This is a ground fight, and you know how I feel about ground fights.” O’Hare nodded, but he went on anyway to make his point. “Luck comes into play, and I hate that. People get killed not because they made a mistake or because the survivors were more skilled at their jobs. They died because they were unlucky on that particular day. I hate luck, and when people on my side are on their own agenda, that means coordination and planning go out the airlock. Now luck has a bigger role, and I won’t have that. Are you on your own agenda, Killian?”

  She shook her head. “No, I truly am not. This mission has been a long time coming. I want those people now, and I will go through hell itself to get them. I am not coming back empty-handed.”

  Hawkins nodded. “We’ll get them. Just remember if you decide to take a stroll through hell, we’re all going with you. Some of us might not come back.”

  O’Hare drained her beer and stood up. “Well, bring plenty of water and cover your arms and legs for protection from burns. I hear it’s hot there.”

  Hawkins rose too and shook his head wearily. He looked at her and spoke softly. “Be careful. I need you alive for now, for the foreseeable future, and always. You know that.”

  She replied just as softly. “I need them dead. You know that.”

  He nodded. “And we will make them dead. You dying in the process reduces the satisfaction in a job well done for the rest of us.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she responded airily. She moved to the hatch. “See you down there.”

  “Yup. I’ll be the one covering your ass as you move to the women’s wing side door.”

  She made one final comment. “Well, I’ll be scratching my right cheek as I get there.”

  She departed down the passageway toward the hangar bay. Rafe sat back down.

  A few minutes later, Tactical and Baby Doll entered to cover other topics. They took seats in front of the desk. Hawkins regarded them for a few seconds and talked. “Watch Killian. She wants these guards bad. I don’t blame her, but she may have tunnel vision here.”

  They nodded, and the conversation turned to other subjects.

  Chapter 14

  Dylan Whitlock walked around the small apartment. He was restless and not quite sure why. Scarecrow followed his wanderings with his eyes while seated in a chair at the kitchen table. He had bourbon in a glass on the table in front of him and had just put a book pad down to engage in his new activity of Whitlock watching. Jasmine was asleep in the bedroom as she would take the midnight shift if it came to that.

  They had rented two furnished flats across the hall from each other in a small, nondescript apartment building on a quiet street in Habsberg, a suburb of the capital city of Luftschloss. The neighborhood was a neat, older area. It was not a fashionable location but was exactly where a young woman new to the city with limited finances would go to rent a place. Each apartment was in one of the women’s names as they had not known which woman would be Baron Hochstadt’s new interest, and the paperwork needed to be right in case anyone checked. The plan was one woman would get the job of Hochstadt’s new girlfriend and the other three team members would hole up in the other flat. The women had rented the rooms two days apart to forestall any thought that the rentals were connected.

  Now Gabby was out on her first date with the Baron. It was dinner and a play. Gabby had ensured she dressed just slightly less than fashionable. Again, it was something a woman with limited means would do. The two women had brainstormed the whole evening. They discussed dress and accessories, how to steer the conversation, what food to order and,
finally, how to terminate the date. The men stayed out of it. No point in bothering the experts or in expressing opinions that would, most likely, be ignored.

  Whitlock suspected that was half his problem. He had not been in on the planning or the execution of this date. In fact, he had no idea what the plan was for the evening. The other half of his problem was he was not sharing the risk or driving the situation. He and the rest of his team had shared danger and risk together on every mission before this. He hadn’t given it much thought until now, but he realized he liked it that way. He knew the chances of anything happening to Gabby were very remote. The Baron considered himself a cultured gentleman and, in truth, he was. There was nothing in his background or history to indicate there was a risk here, but still, Whitlock worried. He reviewed all their actions. He considered Hochstadt’s potential actions and if the team had a ready answer for them. He glanced at his watch. 2330 hours. The play should have been over at 2230 and then have a quick drink before calling it an evening. She should be returning any time now.

  As if by cue, faint footsteps could be heard coming down the hall from the stairway at the end of the building. Two sets walking in tandem and in no particular hurry. The noise stopped outside the door. There was brief murmuring of conversation and then a key slipping into a lock. More conversation as the door opened with a slight squeak. Then the door closed and one set of footsteps returned the way they had come.

  Nobody moved. As it happened, the other flat had the view of the street in front of the building, so the newly returned Gabby would be watching the Baron’s departure. Several minutes passed and Jasmine walked out of the bedroom during the wait. Despite just getting out of bed, she looked great in black sweats and sneakers and hair in a ponytail. She also wore a wry expression. “Tough waiting for your little girl to come back from her first date, isn’t it?”

  She sat on the couch as she continued to talk. “You tough guys crack me up. Gabby can look after herself, and she isn’t out with a serial killer.”

  Jazz clearly didn’t know her friend had returned but was entirely unworried about the whole episode.

  “She’s back,” Scarecrow said. “Just waiting for the all-clear.”

  Jazz stood up. “I don’t have to wait. Me being the friendly neighbor and wanting to get the info on the evening is entirely plausible.”

  She walked purposely to the door, exited the flat, and softly knocked on the door directly across the hall as her two male companions watched from their own door’s edge while staying out of sight if anyone was to enter the hallway. Despite the two men staying back, Whitlock knew if Baron Hochstadt came back upstairs and saw Jazz, he would remember her from the ball. To sell the idea that two beautiful women who acted as strangers at the ball just happened to be neighbors would be a stretch, but now was not the time to bring that up. Dylan settled for hoping Hochstadt would not make a reappearance.

  Gabby answered the door. Along with Jazz, she quickly crossed the hall back to the original flat and soon the four partners were seated at the kitchen table doing a debrief.

  “He’s nice,” Jazz smiled. “Too smooth by half but nice all the same. I had a good time. He freely admits to being married to a military officer far away. They supposedly both do as they please, as theirs was an arranged marriage. I know that isn’t true on the Admiral’s part, but the way he tells it makes it almost believable. He is polite and urban. I was surprised at how relaxed he is in his own skin. I thought at the ball he was too full of himself, but one-on-one, he is much more personable. Good conversationalist and a cultured gentleman. I’m not sure who is playing who here.”

  Whitlock controlled the urge to point out they were here to kill this man, not evaluate him as a potential match for somebody’s sister. He simply asked, “What is on the immediate agenda?”

  “I’m using the excuse of job hunting for being tied up in the days ahead. He offered to put in a good word for me with some friends, but I begged off saying I didn’t want to owe him for the favor. If I don’t come up with something in a week, he said he would talk to his friends in the advertising field.”

  “Put your face on comm unit screens and transportation sideboards all over the planet,” commented Scarecrow. “I don’t think that type of exposure is good for our line of work.”

  Gabby smiled at her boyfriend. “I promise not to moonlight. Besides, anything he gives, he can take away unless I do his bidding. I wouldn’t want to be under that obligation.” She paused as she switched subjects. “He is calling tomorrow afternoon to see how my search is going. In the morning I will put in a few applications somewhere. Need to have a story in case the subject comes up. He is calling early so he might try to set something up tomorrow night. I will say it is too soon. I’ll tell him I don’t want to be serious about any man, especially a married man. I suspect he will counter with the idea that our new relationship is not serious at all, just a good time. A couple more dates, especially with no sex involved, then he will probably pitch the ‘becoming a kept woman’ angle. My own apartment, clothes, money, and the finer things in life, and all I have to do is entertain him and always be available for a date.”

  “Hey, I already give you some of those things. Plus, living aboard a spy ship is way cooler than an apartment,” Scarecrow said.

  “Yes, you do, darling. I could never give that up for anyone.” Gabby puckered her lips and made a kissing sound toward Scarecrow.

  Jazz said, “Neither of you needs to worry about us leaving you. We’ve had at least twenty such offers each from various men over the years. All quite boring.” She looked at Gabby. “What’s his date routine?”

  Gabby smiled. “Like all men, he loves to talk about his accomplishments and his importance. He has several business endeavors and meetings galore coming up. He promised to take me to a polo match this weekend and introduce me to his cousin, Prince Joseph. I’m thinking another date before this weekend and then the polo match.” She paused in thought and then continued. “He made it a point to mention he had to meet his cousin and talk with him. Might be a discussion on the Sunrise Grange situation.”

  Whitlock nodded and leaned back in his chair. He was a bit frustrated at his own lack of a role in all of this, and it showed in his questions. “Is this getting us anywhere or are we just wasting time? Do you see anything that could lead to a course of action to accomplish our mission?”

  Gabby nodded. “I do see a plan forming. I asked him if he lived in a palace. He laughed and said no. He has a place in the capital as his primary residence and also spends time with his mother at their ancestral home. He said he is an only child so has to be attentive to his mother.” Gabby smiled. “Shows he cares. He played that very smooth. He was going for compassion points there, and he did it well. I have to give him credit for that—this big-time player who remembers his roots and still has time for mom. When not in the capital or at mom’s house, he alluded to a private place he uses to get away from everything. He said he rarely takes people there as it is his special retreat, but he may show me sometime. He played that well, too. If I get to see it, it would be an unspoken gesture as to how special he considers me, and I should be suitably impressed. I suspect he uses that approach on all the women he really fancies. I think that is the place we can use for our purposes. It will be quiet and in a beautiful setting. Only other women will know about it. Maybe his cousin. No male friends. He has no intention of letting anyone else in on his act or use his possessions. He only goes there with women, but I bet he goes alone to set the stage, get the alcohol and food ready, and to clean up after the last tryst there. That will be the place for the hit. No witnesses and, maybe, there is a possibility to make it look like an accident. He didn’t come out and say where it is, but he did mention a beautiful view and seclusion, so I think it is in the high hills west of the city.

  “He will tell me of that place this weekend and might give a tentative invitation. If he doesn’t talk about it or doesn’t try to set up something with me out i
n the hills, he already has something planned there with another woman. If he drops me off after the polo match on Saturday, it might benefit us to follow him. He had a chauffeured vehicle at the ball and again tonight. If he drives himself this Saturday that will mean something. It means he is going to places where he doesn’t want a driver as company or as a witness.”

  “How do you know all this?” Dylan was incredulous.

  Gabby sighed. “Pleasssse. He is a man and you guys just aren’t that varied in your thinking or approach, especially rich guys who want to impress with their money and their possessions. They all have basically the same act. Their toys might be different, but they all have the same promises, methods, and cute tricks designed to impress little ol’ me. I have seen this magic show dozens of times and know the secret behind every sleight of hand and cool remark. I can oooh and ahhh with the best of them, but it is actually quite predictable.”