by Rob Buckman
“So… what are you going to do now that the Sirriens and the British Government know you are here?” It was a good question, yet Mike held back the answer. It wasn’t out of not trusting them; they wouldn’t be in their current position as spooks if Uncle Andrew thought them untrustworthy. However, he was here on official business and trying to keep a low profile per the admiral’s unspoken orders and contact him. Now that his identity as Max was established, the question now was how? His secondary objective was to get to see the “Lady Anne” and the thought struck him that Victoria and Allen Albright might be able to help in accomplishing both objectives.
“I was just thinking, now that everyone knows that Mr. Max Tregallion, the founding father and ex-president of Avalon is visiting, might not the Free Traders Guild, as Avalon’s unofficial embassy, put on a formal reception?”
“Huh?” Victoria sat back in his chair and blinked. “Why on earth would we do something like that?”
“Well, the Guild likes to do meet and greets occasionally to drum up customers, don’t they?” Victoria looked at him a moment and Mike could see the wheels turning in her head.
“I’m not sure the ambassador would agree to something like that, especially with the situation as it is now.” She answered firmly. Mike clenched his jaw for a moment. It looked like it was going to come down to a pissing contest, and he hated doing that to her.
“I suppose we can go and talk to Ambassador MacTavish, if we have to.”
Victoria gave him a hard look, and Albright shifted from foot to foot. Mike kept his cool. “You do know about protocol Case Amber I take it. Not that I want to use it.” He added. For a moment, a look of fury crossed her beautiful face. It was a low blow. Case Amber was an order overriding all authority in the embassy when a senior member of the Tregallion clan visited. The only authority higher than that was Case Red and only used in a time of war.
“Yes, I’m familiar with that protocol, Mr. Gray.” The last thing she wanted was a lot of strange people walking about inside the Guild Hall. Their security was good, but you could never tell if someone hadn’t come up with something new and sneak it in. But, as Mike Gray had mentioned Case Amber, she knew he could invoke it if he wanted to. It was better for all concerned if she went along with his request.
“And who might we invite to this little soiree you want us to put on?” She asked suspiciously.
Mike crossed his legs, acting casual. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe some members of the trade Guilds, members of parliament, a few royals. You know the usual cross section of the London’s movers and shakers.” He could still see the wheels turning in Victoria’s head.
“Are there any particular individuals you’d like to invite?”
“Senior members of the Royal Navy of course, such as Admiral Rawlings. We do want to keep on their good side, don’t we?” There it was, he wanted to meet with Fleet Admiral Rawlings without anyone knowing about it, very smart.
“Mr. Anderson warned me about dealing with you Tregallion’s,” Victoria murmured, “now I see why.” She smiled to offset the sting of her remark.
“Now why would Uncle Andy say something like that?” Mike smiled.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he’s naturally suspicious of everyone.”
“Well, not everyone. I’m as pure as the driven snow.” Jenks snorted, and Mike shot him a nasty look.
“On that question, we’ll have to wait and see,” she eyed the little man sitting next to Mike, wondering what his function, or position was, “how soon do you want this little party to happen?”
“As quickly as possible, but I’m betting it will take a few days to get the invites out and get a response.”
“It’s Sunday now, how about next Sunday. That will give us plenty of time to get the electronic invites out to all the people and get the RSVP’s back. You can then see who answered. If someone doesn’t respond, or responds negatively, we will have time to follow up. I doubt we will get the King to come what with what’s going on right now.”
“Hiding out in the palace?” That didn’t sound like the King he’d met.
“Oh no, far from it. He’s out and about all the time, even more so now. He visited the construction site of the new Thames barrier, several charity events, the horse races, of course, his official birthday parade, or he just goes on a drive around London and the countryside to reassure the people that he is alive and well.”
“Oh, why so?”
“For a while, there were rumors that he was dead or ill. All put out by the government disinformation service, of course.”
“How closely is this place monitored?” Mike asked, seeing the smile spread across Albright’s face.
“About as much as the palace I suspect. We do have all the usual protocols in place to prevent hackers from getting in not that any of our sensitive information is accessible from outside.”
“How closely is the palace monitored do you suspect?”
“I would have to say that anything going in and out of any of the royal palaces is vetted three ways from Sunday. I doubt you could get anything past the government or the Sirrien spy system at the moment.”
“You mean MI5 or MI6?”
“No, they’re gone as far as we can tell. Someone shut down their whole operation, as well as Naval Intelligence, Special Branch, Q Branch and a few other spook agencies, we know of.”
“Good god. So who’s in charge of intelligence now?”
“That is a question we have been asking ourselves. The word on the street is that they are all under new management now, but who exactly is in charge is a mystery.”
“As the so called protocol officer of this place have you ever met or communicated with a Dusty Miller at the Palace?”
Victoria shot him a sharp look, “How is it that you are on first name basis with him? I doubt that ten people know him by that name, or dare use it.”
“Let’s just say that I met him a couple of times and leave it at that.”
“Something tells me that there’s a lot more going on here, beside the little party you are putting on.”
“I have to get to Admiral Rawlings without anyone being the wiser.”
“And Mr. Miller?”
“If you can get to him, ask him to be sure that the ‘Lady Anne’ gets an invite to the party.” Victoria looked at Mike, and then Jenks, seeing the little man smile.
“As the chief cloak and dagger spook around this place, I should ask who the Lady Anne is, but I suspect I won’t get an answer, will I?”
“Let’s just say she’s a friend of mine and leave it at that.”
“Humm… not the answer I was expecting, but I suppose it will have to do. And I thought I was secretive.” He gave Mike a lopsided grin.
“Now, I need to get out of this costume and get this synthskin off my face for a while as Jenks and I have somewhere to go.”
“Let’s go upstairs and see what we can do about hiding you in plain sight. In the mean time, my staff will start getting the invitations out.”
“Be careful out there, Captain Gray.” Allen added. “There’s a war going on in London with more sides than a dodecahedron.”
“That bad, huh? We’ll take care and keep a low profile.”
“Too right we will. It’s about bloody time we got out of this Aladdin’s Cave.” Jenks muttered, looking around.
“I take it you will report all this to the ambassador.”
“Yes. He’s going to need a heads up about the party. He might have a few strong words to say on that subject, but seeing as you are who you are, I don’t think he’ll get too upset.”
Mike carefully removed the synthskin mask as he knew he’d need it again before changing into the clothes Allen had provided. Once dressed they headed downstairs, with Allen acting as escort.
“The hood on the cloak has a built-in rain and sunscreen. With it activated the ubiquitous CCTV security cams won’t be able to see your face properly.”
Mike nodded, “Good
to know. After what happened on the robo-cab, the police will be taking a special interest in Mr. Max Tregallion.”
Allen smiled, “Other than the secret war, I don’t think the police have had this much excitement in ages.”
Now changed into ordinary-looking business clothes complete with a thermal overcoat with a hood and electronic sun/rain screen, Mike followed Jenks out the front door of the Guild Hall, and strolled casually down the street chatting, quickly merging with the pedestrian traffic dressed in a similar fashion. Thankfully, the weather was cold and blustery with a light rain so the sun/rain screen wasn’t out of place. That made it virtually impossible for anyone to recognize him. As for Jenks, it didn’t matter if the ever-present CCTV surveillance cameras saw him. Any check of his face against the official database would show him as nothing more than a local resident of London. Strolling along like two businessmen at the end of the workday, they threaded their way across the heart of London to the Crown and Anchor pub on the corner of Neal and Earlham Street. From what Jenks told him, the place matched his description to a tee. Even at this early hour the place was busy mostly with young business types with a sprinkling of office workers and local tradesmen. The inside was bright and spacious with lots of dark wood paneling and the ever-present TV smart screen on the walls showing football matches or some other sporting event. The first floor was the main bar with a restaurant upstairs that served lunch and dinners.
“Busy place,” Mike commented.
“Yeah. Not hard if you serve good beer and good food at a reasonable price. Not like some other pubs around here.” Jenks answered. “Let's get up to the bar and have a little fun.” Jenks pulled his cap down to hide his face. It took a little doing as the patrons didn’t want to give up their places at the bar itself, but as always, Jenks had his way of getting what he wanted. Two loud-mouthed, oddly-dressed young men with long, multi-colored hair were taking up more than their fair share of the available space and taking delight in swearing every other word just to piss off the other customers. Both started to protest as Jenks pushed his way between them.
“Hey you, bugger! We were here first.” At that moment, they both looked up and saw Mike standing behind Jenks.
“Oh, don’t worry about me, boys, worry about him.” Mike smiled slightly.
“Him?” They both looked at Jenks. A moment later, they were both on their tiptoes, as Jenks stuck a pair of knives in their crotches.
“Unless you both want to start singing soprano, I strongly suggest you take your business elsewhere.”
“Told you,” Mike shrugged. It didn’t take long for the two young men to see the wisdom of the suggestion and depart for friendlier climes.
“Jenks, my old son. You do have such a way with words.”
“Gift of the gab, you might say, Skipper.”
“Yes, the sharp end of a couple of stilettos has a way of getting the um… dare I say, point across.” He laughed.
“Two pints of Watney Red Barrel, please,” Jenks ordered as the barmaid came over. “Oh, sorry, Skipper, did you want something else, like a Bass beer or something?”
“No, I’ll go with your choice of Red Barrel” Their drinks arrived, and Mike paid by swiping his credit stick across the order/payment pad. It wasn’t long before Taffy arrived and began helping out behind the long, ‘L’-shaped bar.
“I see Taffy looks as happy as ever.” Mike commented.
“Yeah, he looks a bit down in the mouth, don’t he? Maybe we should cheer him up a bit.”
“Right.” Mike started banging his empty beer mug on the counter. “Chatta, do froma da chep!” He yelled in Voss.” Hearing Jenks chuckle. Being the closest, Taffy came over quickly and snatched the glass out of Mike’s hand. Being a Marine, he still had the language chip in his head with a lot of alien languages, Voss was one of them.
“Don’t you go banging on my bar like that!” He growled.
“Boy, not very polite in here. Maybe we should find another, more hospitable place to drink.” Jenks just couldn’t change his voice enough to fool Taffy.
“Jenks! You miserable deserter!” Taffy yelled gripping Jenks outstretched arm, wrist to wrist. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Look what I found wandering about outside.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. That was when Taffy looked up and saw Mike’s smiling face. For a moment he froze, as if he didn’t believe it.
“Good God, man, you’re still alive.” For a moment, Taffy’s eye glittered, as if he was about to cry.” Get yourself down to the end of the bar and I’ll let you in. Whatever it was, Taffy brushed it away, but Mike understood.
Being Welsh, his emotions were a lot closer to the surface than others, not that he’d ever admit to what he was feeling. Between the three of them, they’d done a lot of bleeding on Borland, and a few other places. To Taffy, they were family, and a lot closer than any brother could ever be. Taffy opened the flap and let them in, immediately turning the job of running the bar over to one of the barmaids, before taking them up to the third floor and the living area.
“Nice of you to come back and see me, little man.”
“Had to, I needed to check on the till.”
“Yes, Jenks was saying the he needed to check on you, seeing as how you loved drinking all the beer, pocketing the money, and sleeping with his wife.”
“Did he now? Well, that serves him right for running off in the middle of the night without so much as a by your leave.”
“I did leave you a message.” Jenks answered defensively.
“Yes. That you were going down to Devonport to do a little business, not join the ruddy Navy for Christ sake.”
“Blame him, it was his fault.” Jenks snorted, pointing a thumb at Mike.
“How do you figure that? Sergeant Grayson here wouldn’t have signed you on again in the Marines…” He stopped, seeing Jenks shake his head. “What?” Taffy asked as he led them into a sitting room and motioned towards the easy chairs.
“’Cuz he’s not Sergeant Grayson no more.”
“Not… Oh, he got promoted?” Taffy asked suspiciously, seeing the broad grin on Jenks’ face.
“You could say that. He’s now Captain… Well, Leftenant Gray of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, and now captain of the H.M.S Nemesis.” Jenks chuckled, seeing the look on Taffy’s face.
“Let me get us a drink and you can tell me all about it. This sounds like a story I’d like to hear. Captain, huh? Well, that’s a turn up for the books.”
It took the rest of the evening for Jenks to tell the tale, and a goodly number of beers. Of course, Jenks made the telling of the story a lot more interesting than it really was, yet oddly, he didn’t elaborate on the last part of their adventure.
“Wait, I saw that on the telly… it was you two that shot up the mag-lift and stopped the car crashing into the power station?” He sat there, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. “See what I mean? The moment I let you out of my sight you go and get into trouble again.” He sighed. “There’s nothing else for it, Sarge… Captain, if you are taking this horrible little twit with you when you go back to your ship, I’m going as well.”
“What! No, wait. I was going to discharge him here…” Mike almost choked on a swallow of beer.
“Like bloody hell you are!”
“Jenks…”
“Don’t you go giving me that load of malarkey. I just got you all sorted out and acting like a real captain, dressed proper like and all that, and now you want to go and dump me! No, sir, I’m not having that.”
“Well, I guess that settles that, all three of us are going. Be like old times again.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard the most confusing part yet, Taffy, my old son.” Jenks chuckled. Taffy raised an eyebrow in question.
“Go on.” He said at length.
“It turns out that his name isn’t Gray at all,” Jenks broke down laughing.
“Jenks… it’s not pertinent to…” Jenks waved him to silence.
“It turns out that his real name is Tregallion, and his great grandfather owns the whole damn star systems of Avalon.”
“Shut the front door! No way!”
“Way, and if that’s not confusing enough, he’s also Captain Bear of the good ship Hemlock.” Jenks couldn’t help himself and broke down laughing at the expression on Taffy’s face.
“So much for the rank of captain.” Mike grouched. “Thankfully the rest of my crew isn’t so disrespectful.” It took another hour, and several more pints of beer before Taffy got it all sorted out.
“Taff, I’m sorry, but at the moment I don’t have any way of signing you on. Naval regulations and all.”
“Stone a crow, Skipper, don’t you get it?”
“What?”
“Too right, you can’t sign him on to the Nemesis, but you can sign him on to the Hemlock.” Sometimes, Mike realized, he wasn’t the smartest man in the room. As Captain Bear of the mercenary ship Hemlock, he could sign on anyone he wanted.
“Jenks, my old son. I think you are right, but why anyone in their right mind would want to sign on is beyond me.” He looked at Taffy. “You know we are going to war, don’t you, Taff?”
“So? What else is new?” Mike shook his head. “You know you’re both crazy, don’t you?” They looked at him and nodded. They chatted on about nothing in particular until Taffy started softly singing. For a moment, Mike didn’t recognize the song, as Taffy was singing in Welsh. As always, he got sentimental when he’d had a few drinks.
Holl amrantau'r sêr ddywedant
Ar hyd y nos
"Dyma'r ffordd i fro gogoniant,"
Ar hyd y nos.
“English! You bloody Welsh twit, English!” Jenks reached over and kicked Taffy in the shin.
“OUCH! Alright, you bloody barbarian.” He started again.
All the stars' twinkles say
All through the night
"This is the way to the realm of glory,"
All through the night.