by C. R. Daems
A second later, a figure in black dove away from the door, rolled, and came up in a kneeling position, blood spraying as he rolled.
My whip lashed out again as his arm came up with a laser in his hand. The whip cut cleanly through his forearm.
The man's eyes looked at the arm spurting blood and then back to me. If eyes could talk, they would have said take no prisoners as his left hand holding a long thin dagger sliced through his neck. There had been no fear or even hate in his eyes. He had killed himself to ensure he couldn't be made to betray his comrades.
"You were right, sir," Judt said, looking at the trail of blood from the door to where he lay in a pool of blood. "They are professionals and damn dangerous. Without that detector …"
I nodded agreement and made my way back to the princess's room, where I had everyone temporarily sequestered.
"This floor is safe," I said as I entered the room. "We found another assassin in the far bathroom."
"Why?" Dulice asked. Judging by the way she was holding Kathyn, I assumed the question related to the attempt on her life.
"I'm guessing, but I think it was meant as a distraction. Kill the Princess and make a mess so when the servant showed up she would scream, which would cause everyone to leave their room. When they did, the two assassins could shoot the king and the prince."
"How could they get away?" Naxal asked.
"They had a hook and rope, so I imagine they would go over the railing and drop into the lounge, then go down the stairs, into the servant's area, and out their door as security came up the stairs. Their odds of escaping would have been good, but it didn't matter. They were prepared to die if necessary."
"How did they get in?" Zeruf asked looking at Naxal, who looked pale.
"Your Majesty, for professionals it wouldn't be as hard as it might seem," I said, wanting to take the heat off Naxal. But I also wanted to reassure everyone they were safe under Black Guard protection. "People, including guards, are easily distracted. It won't happen again. We now have your staff identified, and we will be guarding every entrance to the house."
"How can you assure our safety?" Zeruf asked. He didn't seem afraid as much as concerned for his family.
"Your Majesty, you hired us because we are the best money can buy. Now you have to trust that we know what we are doing and follow our suggestions. We are not seers, but we are very hard to deceive and to kill. We proved that tonight," I said, leaving off messy details like now the Angels know what they are up against.
It was only luck that no Guard had been killed or seriously injured tonight. The Angels were good, and it would take technology, foresight, and some luck to survive them without deaths—a thought that would keep me awake nights.
* * *
"What now, Captain Sapir?" Naxal had requested a meeting early the next morning, and we sat drinking kaffa in the first floor room Seack had assigned us. A couple of Guards were sleeping at the far end of the room; otherwise, the room was empty.
"Unfortunately, that is for the Angels to decide. We can do little except be diligent. The Angels will be probing for weaknesses. If that fails, they will try to create one." I would wager he had been up all night worrying. The Angels would have succeeded if we hadn't been here, and last night demonstrated just how lethal they were. "What can you tell me about the Angels of Death?"
Naxal laughed. "Rumors. That is the extent of my knowledge. I can't even remember hearing of any being killed." He paused for a sip of his kaffa. "They are a legend, a scary nighttime story for children or barroom speculation. According to the rumors, they steal children, whom they train in the art of killing. The children then apprentice under adults for their first couple of kills. It's said they can walk through walls, never make a sound, and can kill with a breath. They probably get credit for every death where the killer or cause is unknown, but there are definitely high profile assassinations that the Angels committed."
"How do you know? Do they leave a sign of some kind?"
"Not exactly. But when a powerful person who is well guarded is killed and no one saw or heard anything … Angels are assumed."
"Do they have a traditional weapon?"
"Knife or laser. Usually, a clean kill. No evidence of torture or mutilation that would suggest revenge."
"How does one go about hiring the Angels?"
Naxal gave me a hard look before answering. "In each major city, there is a man or woman called Marquis with no name. You speak to him or her."
"Why haven't the kings questioned the Marquis?"
Naxal laughed. "In the distant past, a few tried. After they were assassinated, the practice was abandoned."
"So a retired Angel is given the job of Marquis. He or she negotiates the contracts and collects the fees." I was thinking out loud.
Naxal nodded slowly. "Of course! Who else would they trust with their secret and give the knowledge to negotiate? I think most of us always assumed the Marquises were hired by the Angels, merely intermediaries."
"Could be but I doubt it. Come Colonel, let's join the king and family for breakfast. They probably have hundreds of questions I don't have the answers to." I gave a snort of amusement.
Naxal looked a bit pale at the idea of not having answers.
* * *
When we entered the smaller of the two dining rooms, their breakfast plates had been cleared away and they were drinking kaffa or other drinks. Fortunately, the room was large; otherwise, the two Guards in each corner would have been overwhelming.
"What now, Captain Sapir?" Zeruf asked.
"Judging from what I've been told, they are professionals and have a contract. That means they must try again and again until they succeed—"
"We hired you …"
"And we will do our best to see they don't succeed. My point is that neither the Angels of Death nor the Black Guard are going to terminate their contract, because it would ruin their reputation; therefore, you must be prepared for a long stalemate."
"Stalemate?" Kalom asked, his face tight with anger.
"You have few options: find and destroy the Angels or get the person paying them to terminate the contract. I don't know about the latter, but I doubt you can destroy the Angels, because they are most likely distributed across several kingdoms," I said, feeling sorry for the four of them and me.
A prolonged stalemate could only mean many Guard deaths and eventually the death of our clients—a lose-lose situation. I was tempted to suggest to the JCC that they cancel the contract, but knew they would prefer Jax tradition—we tried—to admitting defeat. To the JCC, the men and women were just pawns; to me, they were family.
Zeruf's voice jerked me back to the moment.
"Naxal, what do you have to say?"
Naxal paled. "Your Majesty, the army is prepared to repulse an invasion from Hylana or Jhina but not the Angels. Your palace security I thought good, but last night proved we are no match for the Angels. I think our best strategy is to support the Black Guard in any way Captain Sapir wants."
"Captain Sapir?" Zeruf turned his glare on me.
I nodded to Naxal. "Colonel Naxal is very loyal. He is putting your best interest above his image. He understands that each military component has its strengths and weaknesses: the army to fight wars, security to handle troublemakers, and the Black Guard to stop professional assassins. And equally important, he knows that when the chaos starts only one person can be in charge. Otherwise, confusion will result, and the enemy will benefit."
"You want to run our security forces?" Kalom's face tightened in defiance.
"No, Prince Kalom. We need to understand the security arrangements, and they need to understand that when the Black Guards suggests an action, it is not optional."
"And if they don't?" Kalom sneered.
"They risk their lives and put their king and his family at greater risk," I said, enjoying the mental contest as it diverted my attention from the difficult situation this assignment presented. "Our only concern is your safety.
"
"What do you mean, 'our safety'?" Kalom demanded in a loud tone.
"If someone's actions endanger your lives, whether on purpose or accidently, we will not hesitate to kill him or her if it eliminates the danger."
The room was deathly quiet for a long while.
Finally, Zeruf spoke, "Enough, Kalom. The Angels are our enemies, not the Black Guard. They are much like the Angels—myopic." He raised his hand to stop any comments.
Personally, I agreed with him.
"Their only concern is our lives. I find that reassuring." He laughed. "Colonel Naxal, I leave it to you and Captain Sapir to integrate the two responsibilities. We don't need confusion when trouble comes."
Not too long afterward, everyone left the room.
"Any thoughts?" Naxal asked as the door closed behind them.
"Let's keep it simple. You guard the outside and monitor the entrances and exits. Do not let anyone enter the building unless you have approved the individual and we have the individual in our database."
"But … what if there is trouble in the palace?"
"Keep everyone from entering and kill anyone attempting to exit," I smiled. "If your people enter, my people will have no way of knowing if you are friend or foe and won't have time to check."
"I'll brief my people."
* * *
Shortly afterward, I met with the senior sergeants and Elijah for an update.
"Sounds like we are going to retire here," Mintz said as everyone gathered around in a circle and sat.
"Unless the kingdom is really rich, I think the king will run out of money long before then. Besides, we can't keep up this intense alertness for much more than six months. I would expect replacements before a year is up."
"You expect it to last that long?" Judt asked.
"As things stand right now, the situation will last until the king runs out of money or he and his son are killed. I would prefer the first," I said to smiles and grins. "What is on the agenda today?"
"Kalom is a colonel in the army, so he has duties at the army base," Judt said.
"Judt, have Naxal send a detail along with you. Nadel?" I asked.
"Dulice and her daughter will be working on the books today."
"We have to assume the Angels are not above using them as a distraction. Mintz?"
"The king has a meeting in the reception building in an hour."
"Check with Naxal about his security arrangement. Elijah?"
"I'm working with the senior sergeants to keep the shift changes and the walk arounds random."
"Good. I've talked with Naxal. He's being very cooperative and agrees the Guard is in charge. Lieutenant, it's your shift, so I thought I'd go talk to the Marquis."
"I'll wager everyone in the Guard would like to watch a video of that meeting," Elijah said to bobbing heads.
* * *
"I can't imagine why you would want to seek out the Marquis?" Naxal said after I explained I wanted to meet the Marquis.
"The more you know about your enemy, the better prepared you are against him. Normally, you don't get the chance to meet him and you must guess, which is dangerous. That is all right if you give him more credit than he deserves, but it's a problem if you underestimate him."
"I don't know what you think you are going to learn, but I'll take you if you want."
"Thank you. I don't know either, but it sounds like fun, and I have nothing else to do right now. The Angels will be inactive while they look for a weakness to exploit."
Naxal laughed, thinking it was meant to be funny. In fact, I was serious. Naxal had his car brought to the palace and had an armored car as an escort.
"It's a rough neighborhood," he said as we left the palace grounds and moved into the city.
The upscale houses soon disappeared as we wove our way through narrowing streets with little space between houses and shops. Finally, we entered streets not much wider than the vehicles we were in, with cobblestone roads and houses stacked side by side, many with small shops on the street level. The people wandering the streets looked like hard-working laborers. I suspected few would be wandering the same streets come nighttime. Our driver stopped in front of a shop with a large window and a sign that had Exotic Things painted on it in a strange but beautiful calligraphy.
When I left the limo, I could see several colorful snakes were on display in the shop's window.
"I'm told the owner of the shop is a woman, and the Marquis. But I've never been here or talked to her," Naxal said as I entered the shop. Naxal chose to remain outside with the vehicles.
Inside were cages of every size and description: boxes with iron bars, open wooden boxes, glass containers with and without water, and walk-in cages. An old woman sat toward the back of the shop in a rocking chair, and curled at her feet was an ugly dog in blacks, reds, and yellows with a larger than normal head. Its eyes tracked me across the room.
"Good morning … what do I call a senior Angel?" I asked.
She was very old and wrinkled in the face but looked remarkably fit. Her arms were smooth and showed a hint of wiry muscle.
"Bored." She smiled. "But the day is showing signs of improving. Marquis will do for now. What can I do for you, Captain Sapir?"
"I wanted to learn a little about the Angels of Death and their contracts as one professional to another."
She sat quietly as her eyes evaluated me for several minutes. Then she smiled. "Professionals. A much more accurate description and devoid of emotions, unlike killers, butchers, executioners, assassins … Those terms apply equally to soldiers, sailors, and police."
"Yes, all killing is professional when done for money or family and not for hate or joy, glory or revenge," I said, thinking about the Black Guard.
"I like you, Sapir. What would you like to know?" As she rose, the animal at her feet rose. Ironically, I sensed it had not risen to follow her so much as to keep me in reach. I'd wager those powerful jaws could crush bones with ease.
I smiled mentally. Unless I was mistaken, she was well armed and hardly needed the bone-crusher at her side.
"How would I go about making a contract?"
"You would tell me a name, a reason, and any special requirements. My friends would assess the situation and get back to you with a price and the conditions relative to the contract."
"Conditions?"
"If you lied to me about facts material to the contract, we could void the contract and not refund the payment—or insist on an adjustment in the time or amount."
"Would you take a contract against an existing client?" I asked, seeking to understand their ethics.
"No. That would be unethical and … messy. Of course, that only applies while the person or group is a client. That is not a lifetime arrangement."
"So, a current client cannot be a contract, and a contracted individual or group cannot be a client." I said, thinking I understood.
Her frown slowly turned to a smile.
"Precisely. Otherwise we wouldn't be professionals. We began centuries ago as assassins—killers for hire. Our ethics were defined by the clients' money. Our founder, Angel Choi, united the disparate groups and developed a code of honor. Those that refused to change were killed. So today, there are no assassin organizations on Nizara, only the Angels, who provide a function as old as humanity but under a codified set of rules."
"And the client status is independent of the contract," I asked.
"There are exceptions, but in general that is true. The contract lives even if the client dies, unless there are conditions attached to the contract."
"Thank you, Marquis. I appreciate you giving me your time and for explaining your contracts," I said as I watched the hairy black spider creep toward my shoes. I had seen it leave the Marquis's person several minutes ago. She smiled when I drew my laser and pointed it at the spider. "A friend, or should I kill it?"
"A curious friend and harmless. She looks far more dangerous then she is." She bent down and scooped the spider up
into her hand. "A test to confirm what I already suspected."
"That the Angels of Death and the Black Guard are locked into bad contracts?" I asked, having deduced the Angels could no more cancel their contract than the Jax could, and each would have to suffer the consequences.
"Yes. That is my conclusion. I should have Cerberus," she nodded toward the animal at her side, "kill you, but I suspect you'd manage to kill me before you died, and our deaths would change nothing. Besides, I like you. If you would like to talk again, my name is Sumiko."
"Rivka," I said. "I too have enjoyed the talk, and I'll wager you are still a formidable Angel, Sumiko." I gave a small bow and left.
"Did you meet her?" Naxal asked as the limo drove away from the shop.
"Yes. She was quite pleasant and informative."
"Anything useful?"
"All information is potentially useful, Colonel, but no, nothing that will get the Angels to cancel their contract. I'd like to drop in on the meeting the king is holding."
* * *
An hour later, we climbed out of the vehicle in front of the gray granite building used for official meetings. The entrance had twelve steps leading to an open arched walkway supported by six two-story high pillars elaborately decorated with figures and inscriptions. That led to two massive wooden doors with four security guards.
When the guards saw Colonel Naxal, they opened one door and we entered into a lobby with two smaller silver doors and four more guards. Again one of the guards opened one door and we entered. Inside was a semi-circle of twenty seats with men dressed in silks positioned five steps in front of a raised platform where the king was currently sitting. Four Black Guards were positioned around the room. The two silver doors seemed to be the only way in or out of the room. I scanned the three-story dome and noted that man-sized windows every few meters encircled the dome. I turned, walked out of the building, and began circling the structure with Naxal following. I clicked on my Mfi.
"Mintz, I want someone to climb the outside of the meeting building and examine the windows before the next meeting." I clicked off when he acknowledged the order.
"Why?" Naxal asked.
"Like the Angels, I'm probing for weaknesses. You may want to patrol this building at night, since that would be the most likely time for someone to try and climb it." I clicked on my Mfi. "Judt, where is Prince Kalom?