On an impulse, Solomon gave her a deep bow. “You have to be Dejah Torris, my lady.”
Her laughter was clear and surprisingly deep in the lower contralto range. “And you must be Captain John Carter of Virginia.”
He bowed again. “At your service, ma’am,” he replied, drawing out the last word in true Southern style.
Rolf looked confused, and Elora laughed again.
“I’m sorry, Rolf. Unless you’ve read Edgar Rice Burroughs, you might not get the joke.”
Rolf nodded slowly. “Ahhh, the Barsoom series. Reading it is on my to-do list, Miss Elora.” Solomon’s estimation of the head of security went up a notch that he recognized Edgar Rice Burroughs at all.
Elora held out a slim hand. “It is very good to meet you, Solomon.” Her handshake was as strong as a man’s. She looked slightly embarrassed. “I wasn’t going to select you, but it seems my father has sources that I am unaware of, and recommended you to me. I’m glad I listened to him.”
“Then I’m glad, too.” Solomon smiled, reaching into his pocket. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rolf tense. “If I am going to ensure your safety, I’d like you to begin carrying this.” He held out a black stiletto knife.
Elora eyed it dubiously. “That little knife isn’t going—”
He pressed the small silver button, and the six-inch Solingen steel blade appeared as if by magic.
“Ohhhh.” Elora’s eyes widened.
“With this knife, at close quarters, you could easily take down Rolf, if you had to.”
A few meters away, the big man nodded slowly.
“This doesn’t run on power and can even work under water. I can’t be with you all the time, you know.”
“I don’t know if I should—”
“This is a good idea, Elora,” a deeper male voice interrupted her. “Carry the knife.” An older smiling man descended the stairway from an upper balcony, and suddenly Solomon knew that he was face-to-face with the Beast, Giuseppe Fontaine, in the flesh.
Solomon frowned to himself. With brown hair shot with streaks of silver, eyes as gray as Solomon’s own, and dressed in a conservative sport coat with an open-neck shirt, Fontaine looked the concerned father, or maybe grandfather, not a potential mass killer. Solomon’s instincts told him something was wrong.
Elora beamed. “Papa!” She hugged the older man. “Meet Solomon Draxx, Papa. He’s the man you recommended.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Draxx,” Giuseppe said softly, giving Solomon a long studying look as they shook hands. “You wouldn’t have another of those knives for me, would you?”
Solomon smiled, closed the knife, then handed it to Elora before fishing in his pocket to pull out the knife’s twin. “It would be an honor if you would take my own knife, sir.” He handed the knife to Giuseppe. “While not as new as Elora’s knife, I guarantee it is every bit as good. It has saved my life on a couple of occasions.”
Giuseppe’s face was sober as he took the proffered weapon. “Thank you, Solomon.” He continued more formally: “Welcome to Mars, and be welcomed to the Fontaine Home. Guard my daughter well.”
“I will, sir.”
The man smiled. “Please, Solomon, call me Giuseppe.” He turned to a stunned-looking Rolf. “Please ensure that Mr. Draxx has full access to the entire estate, Rolf.”
“Full estate access, sir?” Rolf sounded dubious. Giuseppe’s eyes hardened, and Rolf swallowed nervously. “The full estate. Yes, sir.”
In that glance, Solomon had seen the steel in Giuseppe Fontaine that had allowed the man to build a vast solar-system-spanning fortune. Rolf made a motion, and Solomon followed him up the stairs to the second-level balcony.
“I take it that being given access to the entire estate is… irregular,” Solomon murmured once they were out of earshot.
Rolf gave him a long look. “Only the family members have access to the entire estate.” They walked in silence for what seemed to be the better part of a kilometer before Rolf stopped. “This is your room. You will find clean clothes in the closet, and dinner is at 18:00 in the main dining room. Dress this evening is informal.” He nodded to a computer screen sitting on the wide desk. “Your terminal will show you the map to the house, or simply ask the house itself how to get somewhere. The AI is quite bright. Ask it anything. As Mr. Fontaine requested, you will have full unrestricted access to the estate, and that includes our data banks.” Rolf’s eyes turned to stone. “Don’t even think of betraying that confidence and looking up bank account numbers. Mr. Fontaine is old school and doesn’t take well to betrayal.”
Solomon returned the glare. “All I want to do is my job and get paid what Mr. Fontaine owes me… nothing more. I would, however, like to know more about the other bodyguards who came with me from Earth.”
Rolf frowned; a deep V creased his unibrow. “You have suspicions?” he asked, suddenly all business.
“Yes, but nothing I can put my finger on. I’ll see what’s on the database.”
Rolf let out a low humphhh. “I will see you get the list of passengers.”
“Just the guards, if you please. My suspicions don’t include the attorney or the accountant.”
The big man blinked. “How did you know what they were?”
“They looked the type. If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a real shower and see to my things.” He nodded to his bag and turned back to Rolf. “I see that you go armed.” He indicated the man’s shoulder holster.
Rolf snorted. “Go armed if you wish. We will only be at dinner, and the cooks are quite safe,” he said in a condescending voice.
“It’s not the cooks who worry me.”
Rolf turned and left the room without another word, closing the door behind him.
“Welcome to Mars,” Solomon muttered to himself, pulling his gun case from his duffel bag.
Chapter 3
THE RED PLANET reprised
Twenty minutes early for dinner, Solomon sat in a soft chair on the far side of the main dining room, sipping tea and getting a feel for the household. Everything seemed to be running like clockwork. Fifteen minutes later, people began to drift in slowly in ones and twos, finding their own spots at the table. Some were dressed in suits, while others wore shorts and polo shirts in a wide range of colors. Like Rolf, Solomon wore black pants, but his were a rip-stop fabric with cargo pockets instead of leather, and rather than a black T-shirt and leather jacket, Solomon wore a black silk shirt under his brown tweed coat. Like other fashions, tweed jackets for men had come and gone and come back again a dozen times over the centuries. With only slight changes, they were currently back in fashion, and Solomon found that a tweed jacket also covered his heavy pistol in its shoulder holster.
Elora entered the room with a younger man and woman whom Solomon recognized from their pictures as Jax and Mila Fontaine. All three bore a strong familial resemblance and had green eyes of one shade or another. When she noticed him, Elora threw Solomon a smile and indicated that he should sit by her toward the head of the table.
Solomon nodded and smiled as he rose. “Good evening, Miss Fontaine,” he said politely.
Elora grimaced as her father entered through another doorway, making his way to the head of the table. “Please call me Elora, Solomon.” She sighed. “These are two of my siblings, Jax and Mila.”
Solomon nodded politely. “The pictures on the database don’t do either of you justice.” He grinned as he held Elora’s chair then waited until Giuseppe, still wearing the casual sport coat from earlier, had seated himself before he sat.
From his seat, Giuseppe gave Solomon a brief nod and the faintest of smiles. Old school indeed.
Elora leaned closer and whispered, “Papa likes you. I can tell.”
“He does?” Solomon replied sotto voce, not glancing up.
“Sure, he almost smiled at you.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, Elora. Thank you.” He grinned at his plate.
A tall woman clothed in a soft floral-patterne
d knee-length dress that complimented Giuseppe’s attire, entered the dining room. The lighting reflected warmly from her shoulder-length auburn hair. With a warm smile for her alone, Giuseppe rose and held her chair as she sat. Dark circles were smudges under her clear sea-green eyes. Still standing, Guiseppe rapped on his water glass with his spoon, calling for attention, and the low buzz of conversation died away. “We have several new faces among us, tonight.” He looked to his left at the muscular guard who had collapsed on the tarmac earlier that day. “Zhutov Mitrofan Leonidovich will be working with my daughter Novalie.” His eyes shifted to a slim, dapper, and deadly looking man. “Jacob Eales will be working with Hepzibah, and Tobin Horovitz”—his eyes flicked to the man sitting beside Eales—”will be working with my eldest son, Xane.”
For a moment, Giuseppe’s eyes touched Solomon, and he wondered what that was all about.
“Solomon Draxx, to my right, will be working with my daughter Elora.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I would like to introduce you all to my remaining family.” His eyes shifted from person to person. “My wife, Lucinda Fontaine.” He nodded to the woman before his eyes moved on. “Xane, Hepzibah, Novalie, Tristan, Jax, Mila, and Elora.” His eyes sparkled for a second. “You have all met our head of security, Rolf.” He paused for a breath. “I would like to welcome you all to Mars. With your help, I hope that we can bring the current series of disturbing events to a halt.” His eyes focused on Solomon. “Solomon, if you don’t mind, I would like to speak to you after dinner.”
Solomon gave the man a short seated bow. “As you wish, Giuseppe. I am at your disposal.”
Giuseppe returned a gracious nod as a buzz of conversation went around the room. The use of first names by both Giuseppe and Solomon had been duly noted.
“While you were all on your journey here from Earth,” the elder Fontaine went on in a conversational tone, “my daughter Brea and my son Corban were killed by an unknown assailant.”
There was an astonished break in the conversation.
“Services will be held tomorrow in the estate chapel, followed by internment in the family cemetery.” He looked around the room one last time then sat.
Wait staff immediately appeared and began pouring wine and serving dinner. When the wine carafe came his way, Solomon held his hand over his goblet.
Elora gave him a strange look. “Your file didn’t say that you were a teetotaler,” she murmured.
He smiled and sipped his water. “I’m not, but I don’t drink on duty… ever.”
The young woman frowned with a slight drawing down of her arched eyebrows.
Solomon chuckled. “I believe that it has been referred to as implacable resolve, and I won’t let something as trivial as too much wine slow my reflexes and endanger your life.”
Elora studied him for several long moments, her expression unreadable. “Father was right about you.”
“Perhaps,” he replied, as a steaming slab of juicy red meat was placed on his plate. Real steak was usually well out of his own budget, and Solomon normally stuck to synthasoy beef, pork, chicken, or fish. His eyes widened.
Elora smiled at his reaction. “That steak is from a Mars-raised cow. They say that is the equivalent of eating Kobe beef on Earth. Father makes a killing exporting Martian-grown steaks back to Earth for the rich to eat.”
Solomon chewed and swallowed, sighing in appreciation. “He’s a very smart man, Elora.”
“I like to think so.” She gave him a grin as she dug into her own meal. None of the Fontaines appeared to be vegan.
After dinner, Giuseppe rose, slid back Lucinda’s chair for her, then glanced at Solomon before he turned to leave the room. Solomon performed the same service for Elora, then followed closely by Mila and Jax, they departed through the same door Guiseppe had.
Giuseppe and Lucinda were relaxing in a comfortable sitting room, sipping coffee, when Solomon and the three children arrived.
Giuseppe waved them to a chair. “Have a seat, Solomon. I just have a few questions for you.”
Solomon sat on the edge of his seat. “Whatever you wish, Giuseppe.”
The older man smiled, but his eyes were shrewd. “Tell me about yourself, Solomon. What was your childhood like?”
Solomon stared into space as a serving girl set a cup of coffee beside him. “When I was sixteen years old, I woke up in a hospital. I was told that there had been a train crash, but I don’t remember either the crash or my earlier life. Without a mother or a father, I was put into a foster home, where I lived for a year before enlisting in the marines. The rest of my life is pretty much public record.” He shrugged.
Giuseppe leaned forward. “Do you have… someone special?”
Although it was private, Solomon’s relationship with Addilyn Simms wasn’t something he kept a secret. “I’ve been going with a woman named Addilyn Simms, a detective for the Boston Police Department. I gave her an engagement ring just before I left, and we plan to marry the day I return from Mars.” From the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker of emotion cross Elora’s face.
Giuseppe glanced at Lucinda then back at Solomon. “In the light of current events, I would like to ask you to look after my son Jax, and my daughter Mila, as well as Elora.” He steepled his fingers. “Tobin Horovitz, a former member of the Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations, Mossad, in Israel will have to do double duty to guard Tristan, whose bodyguard will be outbound from Terra on the next shuttle.”
Solomon blinked in surprise.
“Jax and Mila”—Giuseppe glared at the two cringing young people—”have been tardy in hiring their own security services.”
“Why me?” he asked. “That’s a job for other guards.”
“Because you are here, young man,” Giuseppe said in a hard voice. “Because you are the best to be had on Mars or on Earth. I looked very carefully, and there are other reasons which we will not go into at this time. Your pay will be—”
“I really don’t care about the extra pay, Mr. Fontaine,” Solomon growled. “I do, however, care about doing the best job I can. Guarding three people is significantly harder than guarding one.”
It was Giuseppe’s turn to blink. “You’re really not interested in the money, are you?” the older man said, mostly to himself. “What will you need to do your job to your satisfaction?” His voice was all business.
“I would prefer to get all three off of Mars, if you want to know.” He gave Giuseppe a crooked grin. “In lieu of that, put all three in one suite of rooms, with my own bedroom by the only door. I can’t guard your children if they are spread out all over hell… sir.” His cheeks warmed. Solomon was angry at the last-minute change of plans, especially when he had counted and planned on guarding only one.
Giuseppe leaned back. “Anything else?” The older man was smiling slightly, and Lucinda looked… relieved.
Solomon knew that he had been played by a pro. “You have contacts here on Mars,” he said in a flat voice. “Have them pick up a few more stilettos, like the ones I gave you and Elora. It might be a last line of defense for your children, and look into lightweight body armor for these three”—he nodded to Elora, Jax, and Mila—”as well as the two of you. I use advanced 5.11 Tactical Armor class 15 XP. Experimental monofilament with polymer insulation. It will stop the blast of one of these.” He slowly withdrew his weapon from its holster, removed the charge pack, and set both on the table before Giuseppe. “As well as the standard projectile weapons.”
The older man’s eyes went wide.
“The armor is, however, insanely expensive. It cost me the better part of a year’s profits to buy mine.”
Giuseppe looked at Solomon for a long moment, saying nothing. Then he spoke to the air. “Adele, will you please have Rolf see to purchasing advanced 5.11 Tactical Armor class 15 XP body armor for the family? Bend all our resources into finding said armor on Mars. When that has been completed, look into buying the parent company on Earth.”
The voice of
the AI was a soft feminine mezzo-soprano. “As you wish, Giuseppe. Initial database review reveals that there are enough suits available on Mars to protect those in this room. Personally, I agree with Solomon, sir. Body armor is a good idea.”
Giuseppe glanced at Solomon’s dark angry face. “Is there something wrong, Solomon?”
Solomon swallowed. “Rolf should have suggested this, Giuseppe. I don’t wish to overstep my bounds.”
Giuseppe reached across the table to take Solomon by the arm. “We are talking about the lives of my family, Solomon. Make whatever suggestions you want. I will deal with Rolf, and he will see things my way, or he will be on the next ship back to Earth. Have I made myself clear?”
A chill touched Solomon’s spine. “As crystal, sir.”
“Excellent.” Giuseppe beamed. “Adele, please implement Solomon’s security recommendations immediately and put the four of them into the new suite up on the third floor of the east wing.” He smiled to Solomon. “Is there anything else?”
Solomon bit his lip and thought furiously. “I could really use a couple of those small, low-tech IR-beam units. I know that they’re ancient history, but if I put those in the hallway leading to the suite, they won’t be seen and will give me a little advanced warning of intruders. The tech is so old, nobody will be looking for them. The alarm can go in my bedroom.”
“I’ll have those installed in the morning, Mr. Draxx,” Adele purred.
“Just deliver the units to me, please. I’ll install them myself—and call me Solomon.”
“As you wish, Solomon,” the AI replied as the door to the sitting room opened and a small automatic cart appeared. “Your sensors, Solomon.”
He blinked in surprise. “That was fast. Thanks.” Solomon looked up at Giuseppe and winked. “If you’ll excuse me, Giuseppe, I have a bit of work to do tonight before I get to sleep.”
The small sensors were the size of a dime and matched the hallway walls in color. When he finally had them installed and working to his satisfaction, Solomon himself couldn’t see them. In his small bedroom beside the door to the suite, the alarm chirped like a drunken cricket. He sat on his bed, rubbing his eyes and wondering what more he could do on short notice to ensure the safety of the three Fontaine children, who had all long since retired to their beds. An old trick that he had learned in the marines that dated back to antiquity came to him.
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