The Black Guard: Book II: Evolution (Black Guard Series 2)

by C. R. Daems

  "What did he mean by … Was that appropriate touching … What are the acceptable dating norms?" I found my six-year family upbringing battling my Guard's equality between men and women.

  "Well, Rivka, what do you think?" Hada asked one night as our vacation was coming to an end.

  "Your mother and sisters have been wonderful. I hate to think of trying to adjust to civilian life on my own. I feel like I did when I was six and got sent to Camp Lozn."

  "I've loved being with my family and my favorite sister." She squeezed my hand and smiled. "But I agree with you. There were times when I felt like an animal in a zoo."

  "If your family doesn't mind, I think we need a lot more of these sessions before we are ready to be let loose on the civilian population," I said, knowing I wouldn't feel comfortable on my own in public—without my Mfw, Mfi, and protective underwear. I couldn't help a laugh.

  "I think they have enjoyed taking us around. And they agree we aren't ready for show time." She laughed. "How is my father doing on converting you to Buddhism?"

  "I like the concept and that Buddha did not claim to be a god but a man who taught a path to enlightenment from his own experiences. But I'm not sure about some of the ceremonies," I said, still struggling with the concept.

  "Buddhists frequently pay respect to images of Buddha, but not in worship or to ask favors. They do it in respect and gratitude for his teaching," Hada said.

  "That's true. In a way, it's like becoming a dragon. Buddha teaches that the solutions to our problems are within us. And each person must decide for herself and take responsibility for her own actions and understanding. But that is what makes it so difficult. It would be so much easier to follow preset customs and doctrine, which probably explains why religions tend to have them."

  Hada laughed. "Sounds like the path to dragonhood is the path to Buddhism."

  "Maybe, and that's why I'm having so much trouble with it—I'm trying to force an answer rather than testing the teachings for myself as Buddha suggests." I hugged her, feeling fortunate to have her in my life.

  We said our goodbyes later that week and were assured they were looking forward to our return and helping us continue our indoctrination into civilian life.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Nizara: The Angels of Death.

  "How was your introduction to civilian life?" Wexler asked after I had sat down, three days after Hada and I arrived back at Sasser Mountain.

  "Scary, sir," I said, being truthful.

  "Yes. And worse for a woman, I would think. In the military, men and women are equal and women are frequently in positions of authority. In civilian life, women tend to be responsible for the family—not only having the children, but bringing them up and managing the home. Men tend to have responsibility for business and money. And then there are the professional differences. Civilians aren't exposed to weapons, killing, or life-and-death decisions in their daily lives, so even small talk is difficult. And most men are uncomfortable around a woman who they feel is more manly than them."

  I nodded agreement, thankful to Hada's family for helping me understand and begin to adjust to the differences.

  "I have an assignment which—on the surface—is routine; however, it has the potential to be a disaster for both the Guard and the Jax. The universe knows we cannot always be successful, but failure is failure, and the difficulty of the assignment doesn't matter to potential clients."

  Wexler looked away for a moment. When he looked back, he looked tired. "It's an assignment meant for a dragon, because it will require non-standard thinking. The question is, which one of you is best suited to take on this challenge? You and I agree; you will each see the same problem, but not all of you will see the same solution. And the solution will decide not only whether we are successful, but also the number of Guard lives success will cost. We could lose twice—the client and excessive Guard lives."

  He stopped to take a small drink from a glass of wine he had on his desk, which was unusual. Wexler did drink wine but never during an assignment discussion. Kaffa had been the norm.

  As if reading my thoughts or my eyes, he continued. "Yes, this has been a difficult decision for me on several levels. You dragons may all have the ability to clear your minds of distractions and see beyond the obvious, but you are still unique individuals. While your specific solutions are unpredictable, your approaches are somewhat predictable. Hada has a passive approach that seeks solutions to minimize Guard exposure. Dobrin and Tzadok take a more active approach. Dobrin seeks to find his opponent's weaknesses to exploit, and Tzadok attempts to capitalize on the client's strengths." He stopped for another sip of his wine while watching me and giving me time to comment.

  I said nothing but nodded my agreement. From my Wuji workouts with each dragon—which tended to reflect their approaches to life when at peace—I agreed with Wexler. Each worried about Guard lives; however, I thought Dobrin and Tzadok would be more pragmatic—considering potential deaths a necessary part of the solution. Hada, like me, felt each loss personally, as they resulted from her decisions.

  Wexler turned his glass in his hands, looking into it before speaking. "You, on the other hand, appear to see everyone's perspective: client, opponent, Guard, and the watching universe. That makes your approach the most unpredictable and the least traditional." He finished his wine and set the glass aside. "Hada is not a good choice, as excessive Guard losses would destroy her. She takes each loss too personally. For the same reason, you're a poor choice. Dobrin and Tzadok are better choices, as they are more pragmatic in their thinking. But … my concern must be the Jax first, then the Guard, and then its members. I've already delayed my decision two days looking for the best solution. The JCC refuses to wait any longer and wants a decision today. I'm sorry, Sapir. I've decided you will take this assignment. I'm hoping your ability to see all sides may help you find a reasonable solution."

  I felt sorry for Wexler. He loved the Guard and thought of it as his family, so the thought of excessive losses and damaging its reputation must have made the last few days comparable to Captain Embry's physical ordeal. And I should have been terrified given Wexler's heightened concern, but I wasn't. Wexler was trying to see the future. I was a dragon who realized the past couldn't be changed or the future seen. I could only do my best and hope that Wexler had made the right choice. If it saved Hada, it was a risk I would gladly take.

  "Sir, what is the contract?"

  Wexler shook his head and snorted amusement for the first time. "You're right. Worrying about it isn't going to change anything. The planet of Nizara in the Hydra Federation has three continents that have had little to do with each other over the centuries and have evolved in relative isolation. The northern-most continent, Norland, has a modern space-going democracy. The other two have twenty-first century Earth technology. The smaller continent in the south, Orland, is a Plutocracy, and a larger continent more centrally located, Islan, is split into three Monarchies or kingdoms: Asina, Hylana, and Jhina.

  "For the past twenty years, Jhina has been at war with Hylana. Because both of them border the kingdom of Asina and touch at only one point for about fifty kilometers, the fighting area is limited, as is the potential for surprises. One kingdom, they think Hylana, has recently employed a group of professional assassins called the Angels of Death to kill the ruling king and heir of Asina, hoping to either split the kingdom into fractions or to enlist the new ruler's support."

  "And these Angels of Death are the equivalent of the Guard, judging by your concern," I said when he paused for questions.

  He nodded. "According to what we have been told, they are recruited as young children and trained in secret camps in the art of stealth and killing."

  "Who are we contracted to protect?"

  "The king and his remaining son—two of his sons have been killed over the past month. His wife and daughter are not in the line of succession and therefore not considered at risk. You are here to decide on a team. The JCC is sending the
Black Panther to transport you to Nizara. It is arriving tomorrow morning."

  * * *

  My only limitation had been the arrival of the Panther, restricting my choices to Guards currently on Sasser Mountain.

  "Why four senior sergeants for two teams of twelve?" Wexler asked when I had finished my selection.

  "I was thinking four teams of six, sir."

  "For what reason?"

  "It feels right, and it provides me flexibility."

  "And exposes more Guard …" Wexler shook his head and gave a choked laugh. "I'm resisting the contract, so any number seems excessive. You're right. We have accepted the contract, so let's figure out how to make it a successful one. May duty guide you, Dragon Sapir," he said, surprising me. Take no prisoners were his usual parting words, which emphasized the Guard's tradition—die fighting. I took duty to mean saving the client with the minimum of Guard losses—an evolution in Guard thinking.

  I bowed low, acknowledging not only his seniority but his implied order—duty was the highest priority.

  * * *

  When I arrived at the landing pad, two combat shuttles were already there and in the process of loading the assembled Guards.

  Lieutenant Elijah stood waiting, and bowed low as I approached. "Sir, the senior sergeants report everyone on your list has been accounted for, along with the equipment you requested."

  "Good work, Elijah," I said, waving her to follow me to the captain's private shuttle, which had just settled on the landing pad. I imagined she and the sergeants had been working all night to ensure those going had their equipment in order and to round up the additional devices I had requested. "This will be an interesting assignment. Traditional on the surface but challenging each of us to prove we are the Black Guard and have no equals."

  "Who are we going to teach, sir?" She appeared more amused than concerned.

  "A group called the Angels of Death, who like us are taught their profession from a young age. And like us, professionals we must consider extremely dangerous. We can all begin by imagining how we would go about trying to kill Guard who were guarding a client."

  "That will certainly make this an interesting assignment, sir." Elijah nodded and remained quiet for the rest of the flight to the Black Panther.

  When we exited the shuttle, a navy lieutenant stood waiting. He saluted when I reached the bottom of the steps. "Captain Sapir, Colonel Ramos would like a word with you when you get time." He looked a bit apprehensive while he awaited an answer. His colonel could be upset with him if I didn't cooperate, and I could be nasty since I didn't owe Ramos the time of day—the unfortunate realities of being a messenger.

  "I'm available now or whenever the colonel has time," I said, thinking the colonel might have updated information on Nizara, and that even if he didn't, he was a senior Jax officer and deserved respect.

  "He's available now, Captain. The sergeant will see to your lieutenant and detail."

  "Lead on, Lieutenant." I followed him out of the shuttle bay.

  The marine facilities were on the same level as the shuttles, so it only took a few minutes to reach the colonel's office. The door was open and the lieutenant waved for me to enter after looking into the room where a short stocky man stood. His open stare turned friendly as I entered and gave a shallow bow.

  "Help yourself to something to drink and have a seat, Captain Sapir. I'm glad for the opportunity to meet you. You have quite the reputation for a relatively new member of the Black Guard," Romos said, waving to the sideboard. He took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

  "Probably because several of my assignments have been working alongside other Jax military units."

  He laughed. "To hear it told, you did their jobs for them." His look suddenly became serious.

  "We each have our specific expertise. You could for example use army troops to board an enemy ship, but the deaths would be disproportionally high. And you wouldn't consider the marines as having done the army's job if you took over the responsibility, would you?"

  Ramos laughed long and hard. "No, but I know a few idiots who would think we did it for the glory." The statement sounded reasonable, but I felt there was a deeper question there—was the Guard seeking glory? Grandstanding?

  "I doubt any of us get to pick our assignments. It's Yes, sir, I'm on my way, sir!"

  Ramos nodded agreement. "If the rumors are right, The JCC … approved another New Kief-like contract. And unfortunately, you don't have anyone to call on for support."

  "I imagine they had no option in this case. If they refused, it would be to admit the Jax have weaknesses—"

  "But if you … your client gets killed …"

  "Tradition." I shrugged. "The lessor of two bad options."

  Ramos nodded. "Captain Hawkins has indicated that the JCC has directed him to remain in Nizara space. Sounds like the JCC is feeling guilty, because I can't imagine how we can help."

  "It will be comforting knowing family is orbiting above us and there if we need you," I said, and I meant it. It meant we weren't alone—and the cruiser had capabilities that might prove useful.

  "I like you, Sapir. I suspect the Angels of Death aren't going to like meeting the Black Guard."

  * * *

  I held two meetings to hear my troops' ideas for killing Guards. Rather than a sober discussion of bad things that could happen, it seemed like a lighthearted family get together.

  "Lob a grenade-like object at the door Guard," Corporal Volpe said.

  "No problem, catch it and lob it back," Senior Sergeant Nadel quipped.

  "Sniper." Corporal Rong said.

  "No sleeping on duty, Rong. See someone with a rifle, shoot him. They can't shoot you unless they can see you." Senior Sergeant Mintz pointed to his eyes.

  "Rocket launcher into the door to the room," Sergeant Haber said after I suggested we stay in the room and not station anyone in the hallway.

  "Plant a motion detector in the hallway so we could shoot our missile first," Senior Sergeant Judt said, pointing his finger like a gun.

  "Sneak by us wearing a disguise," Corporal Uziel said smiling. "It works for us."

  "We could force everyone to strip before they enter. Our captain does," Senior Sergeant Catz said, referring to an incident at Molova, which solicited good-natured laughs.

  While the sessions appeared whimsical on the surface, the suggestions covered a wide range of plausible methods ranging from brute force to stealth. And underneath the lighthearted banter, they were professionals, and each suggestion was being seriously considered.

  We arrived two days later and were dropped outside the city of Iladar, which looked like a warehouse district situated close to an inland sea that connected the three kingdoms. We were greeted by a tall middle-aged man dressed in a brown jacket, white pants with a red stripe, black leather boots, and a red beret. The badge on the beret and shoulder boards identified him as a senior officer. After scanning me, he came to attention and saluted.

  "Good day, Captain Sapir. I'm Colonel Naxal, Commander of King Zeruf's private security guard. Welcome to Iladar City. I have arranged transportation to King Zeruf's compound. Unfortunately, we do not allow air vehicles inside the city. We have troop carriers for your detail and my private vehicle for us." He waved toward a white limo.

  "Thank you, Colonel Naxal. I would appreciate your assessment as to the current situation and your understanding of our responsibilities." I hoped to get a sense of his feelings toward the Guard. Those in charge of a monarch's security seldom liked the Guard usurping their duties.

  "Something to drink?" Naxal asked as we sat in the spacious rear of the limo.

  I declined with a shake of my head.

  "Normally, I would not welcome outside security, as it insults my competence. But the lives of my king and his heirs are more important than my pride. And the Angels of Death have proven my security is not adequate for assassins like the Angels. They have already killed two of the king's three sons. The Bla
ck Guard has a deadly reputation. I'm hoping you are the Angels' equal and can keep the king and his son alive. If not, Asina will surely fall into civil war as fractions fight to determine who Asina will support—Hylana or Jhina. Under King Zeruf, we remain neutral."

  "You and I will have to work closely together if we aren't going to hinder each other. The Black Guard cannot control access to the compound and buildings, as we don't know who is authorized. You will have to continue to do that. We will assume full responsibility for guarding the king and his heir," I said, feeling good about the colonel's attitude.

  The city had an old-Earth Southwest modern look, stretching as far as the eye could see but with few buildings over five stories. Where we entered the city, the houses and shops were packed close together, but they got farther apart and finally opened onto a manicured area as we approached the residence of the ruler. The compound sat on elevated ground and was enclosed by a ten-meter high and sand-colored cement wall with razor wire along the top. We were stopped at the entrance to the compound by armed guards in white uniforms but were quickly waved through when the senior guard saw Colonel Naxal.

  "The gate is guarded in the daytime and locked at night. The compound has four buildings: reception and meetings, kingdom administration, a barracks for palace security, and the king's residence." Naxal pointed at each building as we passed them.

  Zeruf's residence looked like a two-story nineteenth-century English estate. It stretched some two hundred meters in length and was a hundred meters wide and constructed of black marble. Twenty steps as wide as ten men led to a forty-meter-wide terrace and two massive wooden doors. "We have quarters for your troops in the barracks—"