Do Unto Others-ARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  No shit. Really? Alex thought loudly.

  "Alternately," Joe continued, "I could remain here and keep things in a holding pattern while you go. Either way, it reduces the target level here, is that the term I'm looking for, Mister Marlow?"

  "It works for the concept. At the same time, it's less cost effective to have widely split teams both needing logistical support at this level."

  "Ah," Joe said, with a nod. He looked bothered. "Yes, that is the economic issue."

  That choked his engine completely, Alex thought, but kept a professional face.

  "Also," Alex offered, "It's not hard to keep you all separated except here, and we're solidly protected here. Cady?" He was only too glad to pass it off to her.

  "Easily," she agreed. "There's plenty of perimeter property, the terrain is not conducive to stealthy approaches. The air corridors are shut and monitored by several governments, all wanting to look effective. Anyone on foot we can take down, easily."

  Jukov said, "I also would prefer to keep the family as a unit. Wider separation just leads to all the problems mentioned, and makes communication harder. At some point, a reunion gives a very definite timetable."

  Joe shrugged in restrained exaggeration and said, "I prefer to avoid threats to our family. I want to push for that."

  Bryan said, "Joe, after Caron graduates, we can both relocate. You go ahead now."

  Joe grimaced. "I feel like I'm running out on you. But I do need to get back there, and I'll have things ready for your return."

  "Not really a return. I haven't seen it in five years. Only the mine, none of the resort or community."

  "You'll be amazed. I guarantee it."

  "I believe you. The images can't do it justice, I'm sure."

  There was a pregnant pause that turned embarrassing, finally broken when Bryan said, "So, someone took a shot at us."

  "They did," Jukov said. "Badly. Deliberately badly. The range wasn't extreme, the weapon was adequately accurate and in overhauled condition. They hired someone able to get that close, who then missed both of you by a couple of meters."

  "I suppose it's good they don't actually want me dead."

  "It's not impossible," Jukov said. "They might have been trying to hit either of you. Ex Ek's info doesn't give much more than what we have. We have to assume it was a legitimate attack. We must consider it was a scare tactic or political statement. The concern is that it would be stupid to use deadly force, and face the penalty for it, if not intending to follow through. But, some groups are not very smart and not willing to follow through."

  "So they aren't a threat, just a nuisance."

  "Correct. Given time, the police will track them down."

  "I won't bow down to petty threats."

  Joe said, "Someone rebuilding an antique rifle to shoot at us from a sniper position is not petty."

  "No, but still. That's why I hired these people."

  Jukov said, "We consider it a manageable threat at this point. I've changed protocols to account for it."

  Joe asked, "What kind of changes?"

  Jukov said, "That's rather complicated, varies by situation, and it's policy not to discuss it with anyone. I won't even tell me compatriots here—" he indicated Cady and Alex—"except as it affects them."

  Joe looked put upon, but said, "I suppose I understand that. I'd still urge announcing a plan to leave, make it look like something long in the works, which it is, then do it."

  Bryan spoke, softly but firmly. "I will do so when I'm ready. Caron will do so after classes."

  Alex appreciated a man with determination. It made his job easier.

  Alex really didn't like the mix of Ripple Creek and Ex Ek. Not that Ex Ek were bad, but they weren't quite as highly tuned, they had different protocols and procedures, and he had no control over them. It was bad enough juggling Cady's team and Jukov's. They had to have a certain amount of autonomy, and he had to manage them as District Agent in Charge.

  Now there was this requirement to include the Prescot retainers. He was sure they were nice people, devoted, knew the family and the routines and the area. They'd had some basic skill training and were probably decent observers. However, they were not trained nor equipped to deal with urban combat. He said so.

  Joe Prescot had to mouth off on that one. "Do you really expect that, Mister Marlow? Really?"

  "Sir, I expect anything at any time, especially as shots have been fired."

  Bryan raised a hand to his brother and said, "It's been expressed to me by my company PR staff that the perception of having that level of force is a provocation. It makes people want to challenge it."

  Alex was being challenged, and knew he was getting heated, so he paused and said nothing for just a moment.

  "Sir, that can happen," he said, "at certain levels. At the same time, the people who might consider it a challenge are not . . . the ones to worry about." He wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to phrase it.

  "At the same time, we have our family retainers. They are family, really. That's perceived as tradition. Dropping tradition for what you admit are combat troops doesn't play well."

  Joe switched sides all of a sudden.

  "Bryan, we need the pros, we really do. I'd just like Mister Marlow to keep the environment in mind. Rural Wales, not some backwater planet in the midst of civil war."

  "I'm aware we do," Bryan nodded. "So I want to have our own people along, for appearances sake, and because they are trusted and experienced and can advise you on what people expect of us."

  It was reasonable and did offer a few benefits. Alex was sure the hindrances would outweigh them, though. Not that there was anything he could do about it.

  "Then I'll make it work, sir," he said.

  It wasn't a massive hindrance. He already had the two retainers incorporated as distractions. Moving them closer in was awkward, though, and one more thing to juggle, a third party.

  Chapter 7

  On the way back that Sunday, Elke of course kept close to Caron.

  Caron wasn't that girly, but far more than Elke. She had personal clothes and kit she picked up, and an amazing collection of bras. Elke bought athletic type bras intended for military and emergency personnel, by the pack of six. Carons were expensive, color-coordinated, styled for various outfits, and often custom made. They collectively cost as much as a good Arnold Detonation Control Module.

  They escorted her down to the garage, in formation for practice. This time they took a Bentley, a classic Cadillac and Crandall followed in the limo. Cady's team brought the Hate Truck.

  As they traveled, eyes out in all directions, Elke admired the landscape. This area was still lightly populated by modern standards, and very pretty.

  A chime sounded, Caron dove under a hood and talked into the phone. No video, that was the rule. The less clues to location, the better.

  She seemed slightly nervous during the rest of trip. Elke chalked it up to tension over the threat level. She talked little, until they arrived at the apartment.

  Once in the door, with it secured and the men across the hall, Caron spoke up.

  "I have a date tonight," she blurted out.

  "Ah, I see. And where is this date to take place?" Elke asked.

  "Um . . . here." The girl was blushing, sweating and stammering. So she definitely planned to get intimate and didn't want guards along.

  Still, Elke was going to make her spell it out, after the earlier teases, hassles and general brattiness.

  "Good, that's easier for us," she said. "Do please give us as much notice as possible so it's easier for us to be discreet."

  Caron brightened, reading something into that Elke hadn't said. "Good! Can you be gone from seven until say one?"

  "Absolutely not," Elke said to Caron's plunging, confused and angry expression. "That would be a breach of contract. We don't know who this man is, and even if you've known him a while, the money involved is enough to tempt anyone."

  Caron didn't cry. She looked
very put upon, and ready to argue the point. Her body language was aggressive and demanding, and that mixed with her status, youth and hormones was going to be a battle.

  Then she took a deep breath, shifted and said, "Please?"

  Elke stood and faced her. "I'm sorry," she said. "The risk is unacceptable from a professional point of view. Even if he is perfect, someone could enter your apartment. One of us stays in here, Cady's crew outside, and we clear it before you enter. That's not subject to debate. And leaving you alone with anyone is out of the question. If you get hurt, our careers are over, and our bosses disgraced, on top of you being hurt and your father taking trouble. You will have to accept this."

  "Do you," Caron paused, blushing so bright she radiated, "have to be in the room with me?"

  "No," Elke said. "We can give you some privacy, after we secure things properly."

  "Thank you."

  So Elke reported it, as required.

  "Argo, Babs. Social engagement. Guest to be cleared."

  "Hit me."

  Elke looked over at Caron. "What's his name?"

  "Uh . . . Dominic. DeBurgh."

  "Dominic DeBurgh, nineteen hundred hours approx."

  "Noted. We'll clear him."

  Caron seemed really nervous after that, and irritated.

  "I don't have a private life, do I?"

  "Sorry, Miss. Not anymore."

  Caron went to prep, both herself and her classwork. Elke made another call.

  "Request Aramis as second for duration. I'll stay on."

  "Ookay, if you like."

  Aramis came over, looking casually professional. He was much less an arse than he had been when they first met. He'd taken a while to mature, but he was shaping up decently, and Elke trusted him completely. He'd even mostly learned to trust her.

  "Why me?" he asked, casually.

  "I want you to keep the date in his proper place."

  "Subservient to you?" he asked with a grin.

  "That's assumed. He should be cowed, you say? Quite well. If he is confident, I will be suspicious."

  "That's reasonable," Aramis agreed. "I'll pile on as needed."

  It was only an hour before deBurgh arrived. The phone chirped and Alex said, "He's on his way up."

  "Got it."

  There were polite and discreet ways to clear someone through a security check. There were times to do that. This was not such a time. Even with Caron being a college senior, they were in effect in loco parentis for her safety, and Elke wanted a stern male image. Caron needed a bit of a lesson, and any guests needed to know their place from the start. It would be socially awkward, but much safer.

  The door chimed and Elke pulled it open.

  Aramis was obviously going to enjoy this, and Elke let him.

  "Hello," Aramis said to the young man. "I'm her personal security for the day." He extended a hand.

  "Pleased to meet you," the blond-haired, fresh-faced kid said. "Dominic deBurgh."

  DeBurgh stood stunned into inaction as Aramis moved from handshake to a secure hold and started searching him. His arms were swept, pockets cleaned out into a pile at his feet, collar crunched, waistline dipped, legs swept and his groin felt up.

  Aramis handed him back his watch, nodded and said, "You're clean. Whatever you do tonight, don't do anything that might indicate she's hurt. No screams, no shrieks, no bondage games, not even a hickey. I will kick in the door and you will leave on a stretcher. Do we understand each other?" The look on his face was cold, egoless, no-bullshit professional.

  As Dominic nodded with eyes dilated and frozen, Elke chuckled silently. If the boy could get an erection after that physical and emotional assault, she'd have to consider he was either a dedicated masochist or a dedicated sadist.

  Caron looked slightly amused, very embarrassed and incendiarily angry. Very angry indeed.

  "Oh, stop that!" she said, though it lacked force. Aramis put his blank face on and took it.

  "Dominic is from a good family, and I won't have you treating him like a criminal. Sorry, Dom. Please have a seat."

  Aramis felt good. The boy was definitely shaken, and radiated his sense of violation and nervousness. Caron was pissed, serve the little bitch right. Professionally, he was sure this man wasn't a physical threat. Still, he would have to find a way to resolve the wills. It wasn't good to be at odds with the principal.

  Caron kept looking around, and once made a head-tilting gesture of dismissal. Elke gave her a single twitch for a negative.

  Aramis smirked inside. The girl had pissed Elke off, too. Elke was seeking revenge. He knew about that, slightly, and hoped Caron acquiesced fast. If she tried to one-up Elke, it would get ugly.

  It was probably a good thing she was so normal generally. The two played a game, twinned into her system with a headset each, and managed to laugh and talk and banter as if alone. There was some touching. She was clearly familiar with deBurgh, and comfortable.

  Then they took the goggles off, and she went for a friendly kiss.

  It almost worked, except he saw Aramis standing against the wall, and shied.

  She drew back, looked uncomfortable, but clutched onto him and wouldn't let go. She leaned in and whispered, breathed in his ear, her hair falling over his face and shoulder. She managed to get him off the chair and stagger him back to the couch.

  DeBurgh seemed torn between her attention, and the guards. Caron smiled, made reassuring sounds, and kissed him.

  That seemed to finally relax him a bit.

  Then she looked up with a gaze that was purely caustic.

  "I got the feeling you wanted to watch, just to keep me safe of course. So go ahead."

  Dominic lay stunned, but didn't protest as she peeled naked. Aramis kept his face blank, but inside he muttered to himself, holy shit!

  Then she crawled over Dominic and plucked at his clothes, shoving him back onto the couch. His protestations decreased, though he did glance around a few times. Aramis didn't move. Elke, unseen to them, winked and grinned at Aramis, then dropped behind the couch and started doing pushups.

  The moaning, writhing and wrestling was certainly interesting, but Caron was obviously doing it as a challenge. Aramis wasn't going to let out a peep. He kept his attention on security, and noted that someday this would make one hell of a war story.

  In a few minutes, Caron screamed triumphantly, teeth clenched, head thrown back, mussed hair flying around her head and every muscle strained in a clinch around Dominic. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, and then she looked over at Aramis, with a sadistic grin.

  He maintained his neutral expression. Hers clouded up.

  Then she turned her head to see Elke, head on hands, leaning over the back of the couch, hair plastered to her face with sweat. Caron didn't know the sweat was from pushups, and Elke had a perfectly cultivated smile.

  "Very exciting," Elke said. "It's a shame I'm only here professionally."

  Caron strangled another scream and bounced upright, strode into her room and slammed the door. Dominic looked around in panic, embarrassment and fear. Aramis stood stock still and said nothing. Once Dominic realized nothing was going to happen, he clutched for clothes and got dressed, trying to conceal himself by hunching. He flushed red enough to be a warning beacon. After his timid knocks on her door were ignored, he moved hesitantly back and forth before leaving, closing the front door quietly, still without a word.

  Loud music blared inside Caron's room, audible even out here.

  Smiling at last, Aramis asked, "Would you really go there, Elke?"

  "I won't stop your speculation of it. Enjoy." She grinned.

  "Sadistic bitch," he snarked.

  "I thought you'd figured that out by now." She grinned wider.

  He wasn't going to say that that grin was evil and exciting. She knew it.

  How ironc that the night before he'd been hoping Elke would get some candid shots from the bedroom or shower. It's not as if he'd publicize them. He'd keep them locked on
a private system that would never connect outside. He suspected she'd beat him to a pulp for asking, though. Even asking would endanger his contract, and getting caught with them would be worse. If by some disaster anyone else did get hold of them, he'd best cut his throat.

  It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't determined to use her looks to express her displeasure with the circumstances. He really didn't blame her. He felt sorry for the girl, and he figured if he stuck it out long enough, so to speak, that she'd give up.

  She knew he was holding out, hoping she'd get bored and give up. No chance. She had nothing better to do, and this was her only realistic way of rebelling.

  They changed shifts at 0200, and Bart came in. He quietly briefed the German on the events, as dispassionately and with as many generalizations as possible. "Intimate relations on the couch," was pretty specific, though.

  "I wish I could find a way to dissuade her from taunting," he said. "She doesn't really have a reason to stop, and is escalating to find a reaction."

  Bart said, "I just told her I've seen better."

  Aramis felt stupid.

  "Does that actually work?" he asked.

  "Aramis, no woman ever believes she is pretty enough. The prettier they are, the less they believe it. She knows I have guarded music stars and actresses, some of those she knows by reputation. I tried to avoid ones she might know in person. So she is convinced they are better looking than her, and more available, given their reputations. She knows she cannot actually touch us. The end of that conversation is she doesn't really like me, so she doesn't try to bother me. She made an attack, I ignored it as unworthy. She has no way to escalate."

  "I wish that had occurred to me."

  "If conversation allows, you might let her overhear you boasting of a date. I'm sure Elke or Jason will play along if I'm not around."

  "And make it juicy, eh?" He'd had dates like that, but not recently enough to help.