Scoundrels

by Timothy Zahn

  “They have the same small scratches, dents, and other marks,” Winter said.

  “You’re sure?” Dozer asked.

  “Very sure,” Winter said. “Rachele has good electrobinoculars, and those details come through very clearly.”

  “Sounds like Villachor’s playing host to some kind of ongoing meetings,” Bink suggested.

  “He’s trying to find a slicer to steal my credits,” Eanjer said blackly. “Probably brought in someone from off world who’s taken advantage of the Festival crowds to slip into the city. If we don’t get in there quickly, we’re going to lose everything.”

  “Steady,” Bink soothed. “Rushing off before you’re ready is a recipe for disaster. Besides, if this visitor is Villachor’s personal slicer, why isn’t he staying at Villachor’s place instead of coming and going?”

  “And why the parade of local officials coming in to see him?” Tavia added. “No, there’s something else going on.”

  “How do these officials look when they come out?” Lando asked. “Happy, angry, depressed?”

  Winter and Kell looked at each other. “Nothing, really,” Kell said. “They just look—I don’t know. Normal.”

  “You say there’s usually a midday visit?” Lando asked, standing up and walking over to the window. “Which direction do they come from?”

  “Northwest, usually,” Winter said, going over and standing beside him. “They come into view along one of those streets up there, then head down the wide avenue along the outer wall, then go in through that gate, the one in the southwest corner.”

  “And they leave the same way?”

  “They leave through the same gate, but then take various routes back to wherever they’re ultimately going.”

  “Have you tried following them?” Han asked.

  “I didn’t think it would be safe,” Rachele said. “I’m guessing they have someone running high cover, and we need to have more than just a couple of trackers if we’re going to tail them without being spotted.”

  “Well, we’ve got a decent-sized group now,” Han said, crossing to the chair beside Bink and Tavia and sitting down. “Winter, keep an eye out—see if they run their usual schedule. The rest of you, come over here and let’s see what Rachele’s found out about Villachor’s place.”

  “It’s going to be a short demo, I’m afraid,” Rachele said as the others came back to the conversation area and sat down. Lando, Han saw with private amusement, was heading toward the seat between Bink and Tavia until Tavia noticed and scooted just far enough toward her sister to close the gap. Lando didn’t even hesitate, but smoothly changed direction and sat beside Zerba instead.

  “Here’s the basics,” Rachele said when everyone was seated. She did something to her datapad, and a large multifloor schematic appeared in the air over the holoprojector. “Villachor’s mansion was originally built a hundred fifty years ago as the sector governor’s new home. You’ll note the rough aurek shape of the building: straight-edged north and south wings facing west, with northeast and southeast wings branching off from the center section behind them.”

  “Let me guess,” Dozer said. “The governor’s name began with that letter?”

  “His wife’s name, actually,” Rachele said. “The governorstead was moved again eighty years later, and the mansion went through a variety of owners until Villachor bought it eleven years ago.”

  “Are these schematics up to date?” Bink asked.

  “Mostly,” Rachele said. “As far as I can tell, none of the previous owners did anything drastic to the building. The biggest renovation was those skylights over the entry atria and the wings, which were installed about fifty years ago. But none of the basic structure or layout was changed until Villachor took over.” She keyed her datapad again, and the view zoomed in on a large ground-floor room near the southern end of the building’s south wing. “This is the junior ballroom. Villachor’s first—and biggest—renovation was to turn it into his vault.”

  Lando whistled softly. “What does he keep in there, small starships?”

  “I gather that most of it’s still empty space,” Rachele said. “We know he’s armored the walls and ceiling somewhat. Not all that seriously—I looked at the old material requisitions, and I’m guessing there’s no more than four or five centimeters of warship-class hull plate in place, with the door made of the same material. Nothing to sneer at, but not as bad as it could be. Unfortunately, the whole vault’s also magnetically sealed, and there’s probably a layer or two of sensor shielding in there, too.”

  “You said the armoring is just on the walls and ceiling?” Dozer said. “Nothing on the floor?”

  “There might be some down there, too,” Rachele said. “But given that the entire south wing sits on ten meters of solid stone, I doubt he bothered.”

  “The walls shouldn’t be a problem,” Zerba said, one finger prodding thoughtfully at his lower lip. “Even at your upper estimate it shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes for me to carve us our own door.”

  “Even with the magsealing?” Kell asked.

  Zerba nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “What could be a problem is if the plating is honey-trapped,” Bink warned. “Even something that thin has plenty of depth to work with.”

  “What’s a honey trap?” Eanjer asked.

  “Honeycomb-style booby traps,” Bink explained. “You put pockets of explosives, acid, or pressurized poison gas inside your walls so that whoever’s behind the cutting torch gets a lethal surprise halfway in.”

  “It’s all the rage among the better class of paranoid criminal bosses,” Dozer added dryly. “What about it, Kell? You have any experience with those? Or do you just blow things up and leave the defusing to others?”

  “No, I can do both,” Kell said, his forehead wrinkled in thought. “I can probably handle any explosive traps we find, provided Zerba doesn’t set them off before I can get there.” He wrinkled his nose. “Not so sure about the acid and gas, though.”

  “Actually, I doubt the walls will be our biggest problem,” Rachele said. “It looks like what he’s got inside the room will be the real challenge.”

  “And what exactly would that be?” Lando asked.

  Rachele made a face. “That’s the problem,” she admitted. “No one knows. At least, no one I can get to.”

  There was a moment of silence. “No problem,” Han said. “Just means the first job is to get someone inside to take a look.”

  “Yes,” Rachele said uncertainly. “Only no one’s allowed in there. There are guards on duty at the vault doors around the clock—armed and armored—and Villachor’s the only one they’ll let in.”

  “Or Villachor and a friend,” Han said. “It has to be set up so he can bring someone else in if he wants to.”

  “Only one way to find out,” Dozer said. “Which of us gets to be Villachor’s new best friend?”

  “No contest,” Lando said, smiling at the twins. “I nominate Bink.”

  “Why, thank you, sir,” Bink said, smiling sweetly back at him. “I just love making new friends.”

  “You really think he’ll fall for that?” Eanjer asked, sounding confused.

  “I’m quite certain he won’t,” Tavia said stiffly, countering Lando’s smile with a frosty look of her own. “May I suggest instead that we send in Zerba and his lightsaber to cut a peephole in the wall? We could set up a recorder and see what exactly goes on in there.”

  “How are you going to get him that far into the mansion?” Kell asked, pointing at the schematic. “I’m seeing the mansion’s outer wall and another interior one before you even get to the vault.”

  Chewbacca rumbled.

  “Chewie’s right,” Han agreed. “Even if the crowds Villachor’s letting in for the Festival aren’t supposed to go inside, his security’s bound to be stretched thinner than usual. We’ll find a hole.”

  “Or make one,” Dozer said.

  Han nodded. “Or make one.”r />
  “At least we’ll know where to start looking for those holes,” Rachele said. “Marblewood’s been a Festival venue for the past six years, and it’s had extensive coverage, official and unofficial both. I’ve taken a look at the various records, and there are a lot of things Villachor seems to do the same way every year.”

  “I thought the pattern and order of the Honorings were always the same anyway,” Dozer pointed out.

  “I’m talking about the details,” Rachele said. “Like where he positions the food pavilions, or how he dresses all the service and maintenance droids in coordinated and themed overgarments for each day of the Festival. Little things like that.”

  “Patterns are good,” Lando said. “Like in sabacc, when someone always bets the same—”

  He broke off as, across the room, Winter suddenly snapped her fingers. “Here they come,” she announced.

  There was a mad scramble as everyone jumped out of their seats and rushed to the windows. “Where?” Zerba asked.

  “Those three landspeeders two blocks away,” Winter said, pointing. “No—don’t,” she added as Dozer started to open the door leading onto the long balcony. “If someone’s watching, we’ll be way too visible out there.”

  “Where are those electrobinoculars?” Lando asked.

  “Here,” Kell said, pressing a set of the oversized viewers into his hand. “Rachele?”

  “I’ll get the other one,” Rachele said, and hurried away.

  The room fell silent. Han watched the landspeeders maneuver to and through the gate onto Villachor’s grounds, noting that the vehicles barely even slowed down before the guards waved them through.

  “Here,” Rachele murmured in his ear.

  “Thanks,” Han said, taking the electrobinoculars from her and pressing them to his eyes. The landspeeders were even more impressive close up than they were at a distance: black and heavy-looking, obviously armored, with tinted windows concealing the passengers.

  “Boost-equipped, looks like,” Lando murmured. “See the reinforced lower edge plates?”

  “Yeah, I see ’em,” Han confirmed. The vehicles might look like normal landspeeders, but with the hidden boosts they could instantly become airspeeders anytime they wanted.

  “So why are they bothering with the streets?” Zerba asked. “Why not just fly in?”

  “The airlanes in Iltarr City aren’t much faster than the landlanes,” Rachele said. “Besides, they’d have to come to ground to get in anyway. The umbrella shield, remember?”

  “And if you’re the paranoid type, you might like having one direction that you can’t be shot at from,” Lando added.

  The vehicles tracked along the pathway between the hedges, bushes, and small trees and finally came to a halt by the covered entrance at the mansion’s south wing. Han held his breath, holding the electrobinoculars as steady as he could, wondering if this would be the day the mysterious visitor made a mistake.

  He didn’t. The awning over the entrance completely blocked their view of him as he left the landspeeder and headed inside. And with the sunlight streaming down from nearly overhead, there weren’t even any of the tantalizing shadows Kell had mentioned.

  “They’re slick, all right,” Lando commented. “How soon did you say the next wave is due?”

  “Ten to thirty minutes,” Winter said.

  “So just enough time for a snack,” Lando concluded. “Do I smell carni chips and glaze sauce coming from somewhere?”

  “Yes,” Eanjer said, sounding a bit taken aback by the sudden change in subject. “And also some kamtro grassticks. But shouldn’t we be watching Marblewood?”

  “I’m watching it,” Lando assured him, turning back to the window. “Winter, tell me when you see a likely landspeeder. Bink, would you do me a favor and get me a small plate of those carni chips?”

  Bink sent Tavia a wry smile. They knew Lando all too well. “Sure,” she said, and headed toward the kitchen.

  Han started to turn away, stopping as a hand caught his arm. “A word?” Dozer said quietly.

  They stepped a few meters away from the others. “Problem?” Han asked.

  “More of a question.” Dozer nodded toward Lando, who had pulled a chair over to the window and settled himself in it. “You told me that I was going to be front man on this scheme. Now that Calrissian’s here, I assume that’s changed?”

  “Probably,” Han said. “But don’t worry—there’ll be other stuff for you to do.”

  “Uh-huh,” Dozer said. “And the split?”

  “Same as before,” Han assured him. “Everyone gets the same share.”

  Dozer pursed his lips, and it wasn’t hard to read the calculation going on behind his eyes. The shares might be passed out equally, but an even split among eleven was still smaller than an even split among ten.

  “That going to be a problem?” Han pressed.

  Dozer’s expression cleared. “No,” he said. “Just wondering.” With a little nod, he turned and headed over to where Tavia and Rachele were standing.

  There was a rumble from behind him, and Han turned to see Chewbacca standing there. “You heard?”

  The Wookiee rumbled again.

  “He’ll be all right,” Han assured him. “Dozer wouldn’t let hurt pride get in the way of a paying job. Besides, I’m pretty sure he knows Lando will do better as a front man than he will.”

  Chewbacca warbled one final time and moved away.

  “He’ll be fine,” Han murmured to himself as he turned back toward Dozer. “Trust me.”

  Ten minutes later and halfway through Lando’s first helping of chips, the expected visitor cruised through the gate and onto Marblewood’s grounds. Han, having already turned his electrobinoculars back over to Winter, watched from the side as he munched mechanically on a plate of kamtro grassticks. Something big was going on here, something way bigger than Eanjer and a stash of stolen credit tabs.

  The two big questions were whether they could figure out what Villachor was up to and whether it was going to affect their own operation.

  He’d left the window and was off in the corner, discussing the finer points of lock-picking with Bink, when Lando gave a warning whistle. “He’s coming out,” he called.

  Once again, there was a brief scramble as the group reassembled by the windows. Han strained his eyes, but at this distance all he could see was a human male stalking down the steps to the waiting landspeeder. The man climbed in, the door closed, and the vehicle turned and headed back down the pathway.

  “Interesting,” Lando murmured, lowering his electrobinoculars. “That man just lost something.”

  “What did he lose?” Dozer asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lando said. “It could have been credits, prestige, or power. But the changes in his expression and body language were very clear. Whatever he lost, it was something he wanted to keep.”

  “Wasn’t enough time for a high-stakes sabacc game,” Zerba said thoughtfully.

  “But plenty of time for a serious conversation,” Han pointed out. “Especially if one side was doing most of the talking.”

  “You think Villachor threatened him?” Tavia asked.

  “Or blackmailed or extorted,” Dozer said. “Those are the main three ways of controlling someone without having to fork over credits to pay them off.”

  Chewbacca warbled a question.

  “No idea,” Winter said. “He wasn’t in the group of holos Rachele gave me.”

  “I only gave her the top-level players in Iltarr City’s power structure,” Rachele explained.

  “Maybe we should go down a tier or two,” Zerba suggested.

  “Agreed,” Rachele said. “I’ll see what I can pull together.”

  “And while you do that,” Dozer said, “let’s see if we can figure out who the other visitor is. I think we’ve got enough people now for a proper tail. Shall I go out and get us a few landspeeders?”

  “No need,” Rachele said. “Eanjer was able to scrape together en
ough credits to get us a few rentals. We have three of them downstairs, plus the speeder truck, plus two airspeeders in the rooftop lot.”

  “Good,” Dozer said. “It’s probably too late to get in position before he leaves, so we’ll have to pick him up later tonight.”

  “Assuming the drama gets a repeat performance,” Bink said.

  “It will,” Winter assured her. “These people like to think they’re being clever, but they’re very much into patterns.”

  “Great,” Dozer said. “Who’s up for a little drive?”

  “You should ask Han,” Eanjer said. “He’s the one in charge.”

  Dozer blinked, then smiled wryly. “Of course he is,” he acknowledged, turning to Han and inclining his head. “Sorry. Too many years of working for myself. So who’s going?”

  Han looked around, doing a quick assessment. “You, Bink, Zerba, and me in the landspeeders,” he decided. “Lando and Chewie will coordinate from the airspeeder.”

  “Sounds good,” Dozer said.

  “I’d like to go along, too, if I may,” Eanjer said. “I want to help.” He looked down at his medsealed hand. “Though I’m not sure what I’d be able to do,” he added ruefully.

  Han hesitated. They had a lot of reasons to keep Eanjer happy. A hundred sixty-three million of them, to be exact.

  But he was an unknown quantity, and Han had no idea how he would react in a crisis situation. If something went wrong, one panicked person could easily run the whole thing straight into a wall.

  To his relief, Chewbacca had followed the same line of thought and was already on it with a tactful suggestion.

  “Good idea,” Han said. “Chewie says an extra pair of eyes would be handy in the airspeeder.”

  Dozer gave a small snort. “A pair of eyes?”

  “I meant an extra observer,” Han corrected, glaring at the ship thief. Eanjer was aware enough of his handicap without someone drawing attention to it. “You can go with him and Lando, Eanjer.”

  “Thank you,” Eanjer said. He looked at Dozer, a hint of fire in his single eye. “And my current prosthetic works well enough, thank you,” he added icily. “I plan to get something more aesthetically pleasing when I get my stolen credits back and can afford to fix the rest of the injuries Villachor caused me.”