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

by C. R. Daems

  "I didn't bring any women guards. I'm fortunate to have only Black Guard in my detail."

  Amador laughed good-naturedly. "Very fortunate."

  Room 207 had a virile but short young man named Chapa, who looked to be in his early twenties. His security was a tall muscular man in his late twenties with a gun strapped to each thigh and a knife in each boot.

  "I don't want women guards. Petra could kick their asses with one hand tied … probably the men too." He sneered for effect.

  "Sorry, it's not optional. No Black Guard, no War Games. I will have Colonel Kesslar escort you and your party out," I said, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

  "All right, but no women guards."

  "I'm sure Petra is a fine bodyguard on your home planet. But you are on Draco and asking to participate in their games. The rules state the Black Guard will provide contestant security. Furthermore, in the event of trouble, if Petra or anyone else gets in the way of the Black Guard protecting you, he becomes a threat and will be killed." I said, giving him the worst-case scenario, as it focused on the issue.

  "You pompous bitch! Let's see if you can draw that fancy gun before I shoot out both eyes," Petra shouted with his hands resting on the handles of his handguns.

  "Mr. Chapa, even if your security is better than he believes he is and kills me, one of these Black Guard with me will kill him, since they couldn't trust him not to cause trouble in the future. That seems like a waste of life."

  "Petra, relax. You're no use to me dead." Chapa said, waving his hand at the man to get his attention. When Petra nodded and his arms relaxed, Chapa turned to me. "He could kill you easily."

  "Interesting, Mr. Chapa. You know nothing about my training, experience, or me, yet you claim to know the outcome of a match between your security man and me. I'd wager you wouldn't make those kinds of assumptions against your War Game opponents or I wouldn't be here assigned to protect you." I waved to Cerff. "Senior Sergeant Cerff will be responsible for your security." I left Cerff to do the introductions and moved on to the next contestant.

  * * *

  Ms. Odetta was in room 211. A man as wide as he was tall answered the door. He had a short and long sword in his waistband and a chain wrapped around his waist. The chain looked to be about two plus meters long. He said nothing but after a moment appraising me and the Guard with me, bowed and stepped aside and said something in a language I didn't understand.

  "Captain Sapir, I presume." A small middle-aged woman stood and gave me a small bow, which I returned. Her black hair was long, reaching to the middle of her back, and it was streaked with white hair. "I'm Lady Wu."

  "Good day, Lady Wu. Yes, I'm Captain Sapir. I've come to introduce your two-man security detail and collect identification information."

  "What about my security guard?" she asked, nodding to the man at the door.

  "He should consider himself a last resort contingency if your Black Guard are killed or incapacitated," I said looking to Wu. She nodded to her man, who acknowledged her with a bow.

  "Zhu will stay out of your way, Captain."

  * * *

  The next three rooms went relatively easy. The contestant in Room 212 had a young body but an unusually large head and was unconcerned with the Black Guard's presence. Room 213 had a teen-aged girl who also seemed uninterested in security. Her companion and coach did all the talking, and both were pleased that the War Games had hired the Black Guard. The contestant in Room 217 was a middle-aged man in a wheelchair who talked via a computer attached to his chair. He apparently had a wasting disease that paralyzed his body but didn't affect his brain. He too was happy with the Black Guard security.

  However, the contestant in room 220 was a young woman in her early teens who was accompanied by all women: a woman security guard, coach and chaperone, and servant.

  "Male security is not acceptable," said her coach and chaperone Kaylee after I explained the security arrangements. "Zenaida cannot have a man in her private area. Besides being socially unacceptable, it would make her nervous."

  "Senior Judt will assign women Guard in Zenaida's private area, but men may be part of a detail when she is out," I said, thinking it was a reasonable concession as it had a potential impact on the games and did not require reconfiguring the teams.

  * * *

  Much to Colonel Kesslar's annoyance, we spent the next two days getting everyone entered into our data base, touring the facility, and making plans for when the second round finished.

  "I know we have no contractual responsibilities except for guarding the eight contestants until after the second round, but I would like to us to mirror those duties in the interim. Look for weaknesses or things we've overlooked, check the people you see against our database, and learn the routine." I said on the morning of the third day as the Games were officially opened. The first contests would begin that afternoon.

  "Colonel Kesslar won't like that," Ceder said, looking for clarification.

  "Try not to incite a shootout with his men or him. No one here has anything to prove, but that doesn't mean Colonel Kesslar or his troops can direct our activities. Send them to me if there is a problem—you're just abused enlisted following orders," I said to grins.

  "What about us?" Elijah asked, trying to look serious.

  "You work for a tyrant," I shrugged to claps and hoots.

  I dismissed everyone and took my own advice and wandered the building. The second floor was rooms dedicated to the contestants, their designated guests, and the Black Guard. There was little activity, and I imagined everyone was watching the opening ceremonies on one of the ubiquitous monitors: hallways, lounges, cafeterias, bedrooms, and bathrooms. I saw only a couple of security guards. They looked bored and didn't appear to have specific responsibilities, whereas the Guard on unofficial duty were stationed at access points to the second floor: elevators and stairs.

  The first floor contained an exercise area with a swimming pool, cafeteria, several lounges, and a separate wing for staff and security. Again, except for the front entrance, which was barred shut, security appeared to have no assigned position, relying on their presence to maintain order. The Guard on the other hand had taken up positions for which they would eventually be responsible.

  "I don't like your people watching mine. My people know their job," Kesslar said as he approached me while I waited for an elevator.

  "What better way for them to learn their duties than to watch people work who know what they are doing," I said, if we could find some who did, I mused but tried to look serious. "You've worked here for years and know the facility and potential trouble spots. We don't."

  "Damn right, girly. So why the hell are you replacing us!" he said, ejecting spittle with every few words.

  "Don't ask me, Colonel. Ask the Draco Games Committee, or the Jax Contract Committee. Those kinds of decisions are way above my pay grade," I said, actually feeling sorry for Kesslar. He was angry and looking for someone to fight—and I wasn't cooperating. While I might understand his frustration, I didn't like him. But I had no reason to want him dead—and a confrontation would mean guns and death.

  I think he showed admirable restraint in not taking out his Mfw and shooting the building for lack of a live opponent. Instead, he turned and stalked off, mumbling.

  * * *

  The first round of sixty-four contestants was interesting. Even after studying the rules, the game was difficult to follow. After watching the competition for six days, I concluded the losers were geniuses, and only the space gods knew what the winners were.

  The procedure for clearing the facility of the first round's losing contestants appeared adequate but less rigorous than I would have liked. Although we verified everyone had left that should have, I thought a clever person—which included everyone who had been asked to leave—could have found ways to circumvent the procedure. And maybe had, I mused.

  The winning contestants were given two days to rest before the second round, although from
what I could see no one rested. The contestants and their consultants spent every waking hour reviewing the games of their potential opponents. On the morning of the third day, the pairings would be announced. It would be a three-day event, with four matches active at any one time and a total of twelve each day.

  Late in the afternoon of the second rest day, the fire alarm sounded and people scurried out of their rooms, heading for the lobby as required by the procedures and emphasized in the orientation briefing.

  It felt wrong … I hit the lock-down icon I had set up. That would notify every Black Guard that their contestant should stay in their room or proceed immediately to their room if they weren't there. Then I began checking with each Guard.

  "Lieutenant Elijah, where are you and have you detected any indication of a fire?" I asked as I proceeded toward the lobby. By the time I reached it, none of the Guards on duty had reported seeing, hearing, or smelling anything that would indicate a fire.

  "Where in hell are the people you're guarding?" Kesslar hollered as soon as he saw me approaching.

  "Where is the fire, Colonel?" I asked while scanning the crowd. "I've forty-two Guard scattered around the facility and no one has seen any indication of a fire."

  "Doesn't matter. Procedure says they must report to the lobby if an alarm goes off. The firemen need the hallways free of people, and they need access to the rooms," he shouted, although I was only a couple of steps away from him.

  I noticed the access door into the facility was open, and I could see at least ten men in fireman's uniforms inside the lobby.

  "Have you scanned each of the firemen?" I asked, ignoring his rant.

  Kesslar's face twisted in rage and he reached for his Mfw.

  I stepped forward and shoved my laser under his chin before his Mfw cleared the holster. Then I drew my Mfw and shot twice into the ceiling, where I thought it would do the least amount of damage. "STOP OR DIE!" I shouted as my weapon scanned the firemen so as to leave no doubt I meant them. "Elijah … Ceder," I said, seeing them entering the lobby, "scan the firefighters for identification before you let them leave the lobby."

  "I'll kill—" Kesslar began.

  My laser jammed harder under his chin, close to the neck.

  His face seized with pain and he was forced to rise on his toes to ease the pressure the laser barrel was causing.

  A broad shouldered man with a rugged face strode toward me, his face flushed with anger.

  "Who do you think—"

  "Where is the fire, Chief?" I interrupted, guessing by the writing on his helmet and his actions that he was in charge.

  "You are wasting valuable time—"

  "You're the one wasting time, Chief. The faster your men are scanned, the faster you can get to this fire, wherever it is." My Mfw rested only centimeters away from his chest.

  "The kitchen," he said, conflicting emotions tearing at him as he fought with the desire to get to the fire or to argue with me. The fire won, and he ran off to help expedite the process.

  Within minutes, five of the ten were running toward the entrance to the staff area and a minute later the other five.

  I removed my laser from Kesslar's neck.

  "Colonel Kesslar, there is only one thing you need to remember about the Black Guard: we always shoot for the kill zone, and if we missed—even now and then—we wouldn't be qualified to be in the Black Guard." I turned and walked away, knowing Elijah and Ceder were watching the colonel.

  I intercepted the fire chief as he came out of the staff area. "Much damage, Chief?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "No, I don't know why it set off the fire alarm … how did you know?"

  "There was no panic; therefore, no one had seen, heard, nor smelled any indication of fire. That could mean a convenient excuse to sneak someone into the facility or for someone inside the facility to cause trouble."

  "Gutsy call."

  "Better to look foolish than to get someone killed trying not to." I shrugged.

  He walked away muttering.

  I noticed Kesslar glaring in my direction as he intercepted the chief.

  "A distraction?" Elijah asked as Ceder joined us.

  "I think so, either for someone in the lobby to kill one of the people we are guarding when they joined the group, or to sneak one or more potential assassins into the facility, or to set something up for later."

  "Kesslar?" Ceder asked.

  "I don't think so. He's not a strategic thinker, judging by the way he allowed the firemen into the facility. He saw what he expected to see—firemen responding to a fire alarm."

  "And you saw?" Ceder asked.

  "I heard the alarm but saw no fire, nor did the Guards on duty, indicating a need for caution."

  "The colonel is going to be trouble," Elijah said, looking in his direction. "You embarrassed him."

  "No doubt. Put everyone on alert to watch the security people. For now, I think Kesslar will just up the tension with rumors of how we think we're better than them."

  "But we are," Ceder said, smiling.

  Just then my Mfi buzzed with the code I had given Goebel.

  "Sapir," I said after opening the channel.

  "I hear you interfered with the firemen putting out a fire … and stopped the contestants you are supposed to be safeguarding from leaving the building," he said, rather calmly considering what he must have heard from Kesslar and or the fire chief.

  "I know the Black Guard isn't responsible for building security until after the second round; however, considering the minor kitchen fire didn't set off the fire alarm, it's highly probable keeping the contestants in their area avoided a major incident. But if you feel Colonel Kesslar's security is better, I'm sure the JCC would agree to cancel the contract." I knew that was more wishful thinking, but moments like this provided some much needed amusement.

  "I was told it was a potentially dangerous fire."

  "Not by the fire chief, I'd wager. The fire was in the kitchen, and the chief told me it shouldn't have set off the alarm, which I suspect it didn't."

  "You didn't know that at the time," he said, hesitantly.

  "Sir, you are paying the Black Guard for our experience and demonstrated performance. We do not blindly follow rules and procedures. If you are uncomfortable with that …"

  "Colonel Kesslar is very mad …"

  "True, and allowing him to continue to provide facility security will make for a volatile situation, but I don't' have sufficient Guard to take on that responsibility."

  "Then we have no choice."

  "The decision is yours, and you are electing to let Kesslar continue. Given that, I must warn you there could be a shooting war between the current security and the Black Guard."

  "That is unacceptable."

  "Then release the Jax from the contract."

  "I can't without annoying some very rich and influential people and potentially damaging the Draco War Games. Do the best you can," he said and clicked off.

  Great, I mentally screamed. How is a war between the Black Guard and the current security going to help protect the contestants? Struggling with finding a solution, I decided to visit the rooms of our eight clients, hoping for some inspiration.

  I checked on each suite and found the contestants busy preparing for the upcoming matches. Finally, I reached room 220. Inside, I found Zenaida dressed in a loose fitting sports workout outfit.

  "Ms. Zenaida has decided she needs to work out," Sergeant Peller said when I looked to her.

  "The exercise will help to clear my thoughts. I need a break from the War Games," Zenaida said.

  I decided to tag along, wondering what kind of exercises she chose to clear her mind. I could certainly benefit from some exercises to clear mine. The workout area had only three people active, none of which were contestants. To my surprise, Zenaida had a body length bathing suit on underneath her workout clothing and proceeded to enter the Olympic-sized pool. Her strokes appeared effortless and she seemed to glide across the water. H
alfway back on her fourth lap a man dove into the pool and didn't surface.

  I took off running—with Peller following and Corporal Rong at the other end of the pool running to meet us. Ten meters from Zenaida, I made a running dive, which carried me over her lane. I crashed into the man, stopping his forward progress. He dropped something and made for the surface. As we both broke the surface, he shouted between gasping breaths.

  "You clumsy Amazon. I need a doctor, I think you broke a rib—"

  "Rong, shoot him if he attempts to leave. Peller, keep an eye on Zenaida."

  I took a deep breath and dove for the bottom. It took three tries, but eventually I located the clear-glass syringe. When I clambered out of the pool, I walked over to Rong and his prisoner. "Corporal Rong, I wonder what will happen to our friend if I inject him with this and throw him back in the water," I said, watching the man's face. He said nothing but his eyes opened wide and darted from side to side, looking for someplace to run. Then it hit me. I clicked on my Mfi. "Elijah, Ceder, and senior sergeants, to me in the workout area."

  "What happened?" Zenaida said, standing close to Peller with a towel around her shoulders, looking at the man crouched under Rong's watchful stare.

  "He was attempting to interrupt your meditative swim," I said, trying to downplay the incident. "The pool is now available for your exclusive use if you wish to continue."

  She looked at each of us and surprised me when she removed the towel and got back into the pool and continued swimming.

  "Shoot anyone looking to enter the pool," I said as Ceder and Elijah came running into the pool area, followed almost immediately by the four senior sergeants. "I want you to search our clients' rooms. I believe they are being bugged. The attack on Ms. Zenaida is too much of a coincidence," I said. "She decides to go for a swim and someone is here to intercept her. Find out how they are doing it."

  * * *

  I selected two rooms: 205, Ms. Lacroix, the first room assigned and 220, Ms. Zenaida, the last assigned. For eight hours the rooms were searched in silence except for prompted small conversation for the benefit of the listening devices. Every knickknack was carefully examined, then the furniture, then the walls and ceiling, and finally pieces so ubiquitous that they appeared an integral part of the facility—the monitors.