The two of us were greeted with far more respect than I felt we deserved. Elian and I were invited up to the bridge and the captain greeted us with a genuine smile of welcome. He said, “I’ve heard a great deal about you two, and I’m proud to meet you in person. If you agree, I’d love to have you speak to our personnel about the bugs. We have been stuck here in First Fleet, but I have heard that some of our units may be transferred. What have you heard?”
I had heard quite a bit from the admiral, but I didn’t have his permission to speak, so I said, “I’ve heard the same rumors you have, but I don’t have anything specific. I know that our two destroyers are going back out to shadow the bug flotilla, but that is about all I know.”
He asked, “Didn’t you just return?’ Elian nodded his head and said, “Yes sir, we arrived two days ago, and are supposed to head right back out as soon as possible.” The captain was obviously aching to ask more questions, especially why we were rushing to earth when our ships were getting ready to head back out. He asked us to tell him about the Dresden class and that we were happy to do. We passed an enjoyable hour talking to him about the capabilities of various ships and small craft. We returned to our tiny stateroom feeling surprisingly refreshed.
The trip to earth was normally a two-day run, but we made it in a little over one and a half days, accelerating or decelerating the entire way. While we were still within comm range of base, we received a huge download, most of which concerned the Kestrel, but not all. Admiral Lee had taken the time to give us background material on the factory that was producing the Kestrel as well as a general overview of the extremely complicated political system that Fleet had to practically physically push ships and weapons through.
We spent most of our shipboard time learning everything we possibly could about the contract that had been signed, including specifications and deadlines. It was routine for a company to fail to meet either the deadlines or specifications, but in this particular instance the factory was failing to meet both.
The more I read the angrier I became. Elian and I spent several hours together carefully reading the documents Admiral Lee gave us. It was extraordinary for an admiral to give so much authority to another officer working under him, but in this case he had nearly given us total authority. We actually had the authority to declare the company to be in default of its contract. There was a hefty penalty clause that could run into the millions of credits, and Elian and I had merely to sign our names to make it so. Heady stuff. Of course, we were close enough to his office that we would be able to communicate with him, making our task a little easier.
We came in so hot we almost failed to orbit. The captain was a good stick, however, and he overran his engines just a bit to fit us neatly, and at the last second, into a perfect orbit. Elian looked over at me and quietly said, “Is this what happens when you become an Ace?” I asked, “I’m an Ace?” He leaned close and said, “Yeah, an ace idjit. I meant, is this the type of treatment we can expect to receive from now on?”
I said, “I seriously doubt it. In fact, this treatment is actually for Admiral Lee, not we puny lieutenants. I have to say, I could get used to this.”
One hour after insertion a shuttle matched orbits with us and we transferred over.
Once again, we were being given special treatment. Not because of who we were, but because Admiral Lee prepared everyone ahead of time. His preparation seemed to include a little fire and brimstone, and it wasn’t aimed solely at civilian contractors.
We touched down in Calcutta and were shuttled straight off the Fleet landing pad and taken over to the civilian portion of the base, where we caught a flight to London and then Germany, where the plant was located.
We arrived ahead of schedule and had some free time, so we made use of it by contacting the Federal Marshal’s service local office. We had already learned that talking to the first flunky who answered the comm was a waste of time, so we kept asking for ‘your boss’ until we got the actual boss.
We explained our mission, forwarded our authorizations over for her perusal and after a mere ten minutes she got back to us with a smile we could hear. She said, “Officers, I will be airborne in ten minutes and should arrive at your landing port within fifteen minutes. I will be bringing along some muscle, just in case.” I said, “Yes Lieutenant Kruger, we’ll be expecting you. Uh, when you say ‘muscle’, just what do you mean?” She chuckled a little nastily and said, “Oh, don’t be concerned. I don’t mean actual muscles, but rather Muscle, as in the form of writs and search warrants. Just in case, you understand?”
Elian gestured at me and I said, “Excuse me for just a moment please.” He said, “Robert, ask her for a rundown on this company’s legal, financial and any other pertinent history. Not for now, but when she arrives.” I nodded my head and passed on Elian’s request. She agreed and said she was signing off as she was entering the shuttle.
I looked at Elian and asked, “Now, what do you suppose would make her so very happy to come a’callin’ on this particular company? Do you suppose that there is a history there?” He snorted and said, “In ten minutes you can ask her personally.”
We put off comming the company, wanting to have a little time with her before we announced our arrival. True to her word, a federal Martial shuttle came in for a splashy landing right outside the terminal in an area expressly off limits to all craft. Before the dust settled the hatch opened up and four men and two women trotted down the ladder and walked briskly over to the terminal entrance.
We met them inside and the first thing she asked when she saw us was, “Are you the two officers I was to meet?” I grinned at her and passed to her pad my authorizations. She looked carefully at her pad and then looked back up. She seemed a little disappointed.
I shook her hand and said, “Lieutenant Kruger, we have come here from Jupiter base, acting as Admiral Lee’s specifically authorized representatives. We have, as you see, nearly carte blanche to poke our noses anywhere we want, save for the women’s water closet, and maybe there as well. Short story: the Fleet is in a shooting war with one enemy, and may soon be at war with a second, and far better armed opponent. Fleet signed a contract with this company in which it was to deliver a certain quantity of F/A 207 Kestrels, by a certain date, with certain capabilities. The company has not only failed to meet the deadlines – any deadlines - we believe that the prototype is deficient by a large margin. We are here to inspect their prototype, which they say is flyable, and determine whether or not there is cause for legal action. You have our papers, we have the authority to inspect the result of billions of credits worth of work, and finally, and most importantly, we have no time to screw around with this. My partner and I were in a shootout with the bugs just twelve days ago, and we are scheduled to go back out in another day or so. The stakes here are beyond comprehension, and it is my intent and purpose to determine whether or not these people have legitimate problems, or should be hanged.”
I stopped because I was just making myself angry. She looked at me, then Elian, and asked, “Lieutenant, are you the two officers who, um, who destroyed the bugs mother ships six months ago?” Elian answered for us, “Lieutenant? Is there another way of addressing you? We are Fleet lieutenants and you are a federal marshal lieutenant. Can we just call you Mary, or Petunia?” Interestingly, Elian did not actually answer her question.
She looked with narrowed eyes at Elian, who was possibly half her age, and then she broke out in a smile and said, “Yes, lieutenant, you may call me Margrethe. May I say, it is a deep honor to actually meet the two of you. We have read so much about you, here on earth, and to find that I am face to face with two such highly decorated veterans is a thrill, but mostly, I am honored to make your acquaintance. Let me just say, that my office will support you in any way possible. Additionally, if you must stay over, please allow us to provide you with lodging. I know how little the military pays its people, my son is presently serving as a Marine corporal on a fleet carrier, the New Brittany
, which is just now leaving for the war.”
Elian grinned and said, “Well, Margrethe, my string-bean companion here has just recently found the time to marry a Marine officer based on the Netherlands, in Lubya. He seems none the worse for the experience, so perhaps the rumor that Marines eat babies for breakfast is an exaggeration.” Lieutenant Kruger burst into quite loud laughter and I thought she was going to hug Elian, which would serve him right. The man could not stop flirting.
We sat in an office, which a hand gesture from Lieutenant Kruger procured, and she spent thirty minutes detailing the plant’s technological, legal and financial history. It was not particularly good. After decades of peace, and dwindling contracts and contractors, those contractors who remained had gradually turned more and more to lobbyists to help them acquire contracts. In some cases the lobbyists turned to some murky methods of insuring their own survival, and before you knew it, we had co-opted military procurement officers, and we had bribery.
The company we were about to visit had never before built a military war craft. It did have experience building shuttles and other similar sized craft, but nothing remotely approaching the performance envelope of the Kestrel. Unfortunately, it may still not have the experience. It now had new owners, which may or may not be positive. The old owners were out and out crooks, according to the marshal, which in fact led to the change in ownership, and she was keen to determine what changes, if any, the new owners were making. Our visit gave her a perfect opportunity.
After another few minutes, I suggested that we were ready. We walked back out to the shuttle that was still sitting in that ‘Absolutely Prohibited!’ area. We entered the cabin and took seats. Moments later, the shuttle lifted off for the thirty minute run to the manufacturing plant, located on the outskirts of Munich.
The pilots radioed ahead for clearance, but only ten minutes before landing, and after a short delay, we were cleared for descent to the private pad of Merkovich LLC. Lieutenant Kruger had instructed her pilot not to identify either the people on board or the reason for the visit. Considering the recent spate of arrests that was running through the government and government suppliers, I can’t imagine this plant would be thrilled to learn federal marshals were about to descend on it.
We descended the ladder into an early spring morning. Elian and I had lost track of what time zone our own biological clocks were on, but it wasn’t morning, Spring or earth. We walked briskly into the front office and up to the receptionist, who was standing and speaking agitatedly to someone via her comm board. I walked up to her and waited until she concluded her discussion, which our arrival seemed to have precipitated.
She looked a little flustered and I smiled my nicest smile and said, “We are Lieutenants Padilla and Turner, and we wish to see the head of development. I believe his name is Mr. Mencia. Is he in?” Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, and Elian covered his. She looked down at something on her desk and said, “I’m sorry, but Mr. Mencia is in a meeting. Do you have an appointment to see him?”
I smiled nicely and said, “No, we do not. Would Mr. Mencia be available shortly? We do not mind waiting.” I got a sharp look from Lieutenant Kruger, who then looked thoughtful, and then she smiled nicely.
The receptionist consulted something or other and said, “I am sorry, but Mr. Mencia will not be available today. Do you wish to make an appointment to see him on another date?” I smiled again and said, “No, that will not be possible as we will not be in town for very long. Tell me, whom does Mr. Mencia report to? Who is his boss?”
The receptionist was beginning to breathe a little easier now, and she said, “Why do you ask, sir, if it is Mr. Mencia you wish to see?”
I had hoped to encounter a willing reception, and decided to end this, and turned sideways to catch Lt. Kruger’s attention and pointed a finger at the receptionist. In turn, she pointed at one of her men, who stepped up to the desk and said, “This is a subpoena. It requires that you produce Mr. Mencia. We shall require an office. Now is a good time. Where shall we go, please?”
The once-again breathless receptionist gulped and attempted to contact someone. I did not wish to wait. I said, loudly so that she could hear me over whomever she was speaking to, “Point us in the direction of a secure office please. We will wait five minutes for the appearance of Mr. Mencia, after which, we will look for him ourselves. Which way, please?”
I was already underway for a doorway leading into the interior of the building. The receptionist pushed a button and we could hear an audible alarm going off somewhere inside. Before we reached the doorway a pair of suited and armed men appeared at the far end of the hallway, running toward us.
I turned to Elian and said, “This is going to be so much fun. Imagine the expression on your mother’s face when she hears that you survived the bugs but were killed by a civilian armed guard in Germany.”
We looked in the first doorway we came to, and found what appeared to be a break room. I said, “This will do. Do Germans like coffee?” Lieutenant Kruger’s attention was elsewhere, however. The armed men came to a halt and opened their mouths to shout something, probably of an imperative nature. Lieutenant Kruger stood quietly, holding out her badge. They looked closely at it and decided that perhaps discretion was more in order than a shootout. She took into her hand another of those handy white paper documents, held it out to them and said, “You two now work for me. I am Lieutenant Kruger, senior marshal for the Munich office. You have just been served with warrants, and you will immediately locate and bring to this room Mr. Mencia. Do you understand?”
They looked a little stunned, but they read the document anyway, which took what little wind was left out of their sails. They looked back up at her and she said, “I have given you an order. If you refuse that lawful order, my officers here will take you under arrest. What is your response?”
I liked lieutenant Kruger. She didn’t raise her voice, or even frown. Rather, she spoke quietly and even nicely. Under that nice, however was some well tempered steel, and those two security men heard it. They looked at each other, and then one of them said, “Sir, we need to verify the authenticity of this document before we can authorize you to enter the premises.”
Lieutenant Kruger signaled with a graceful finger to her men and they stepped around her and said, “You are hereby placed under arrest for failing to obey the lawful orders of a federal marshal. You will place all your weapons on the floor and submit to a search. Do it now.” There was a moment when I thought that they were actually going to train their weapons on us, but all five marshals suddenly opened their coats and placed their hands on hand guns. The two security men froze, then they slowly and carefully placed their own hand guns on the floor. This was no longer a fun game, at least for these two men. They were frisked and hand cuffed and taken over to two chairs where they were sat down rather firmly. I was liking this more and more.
In the meantime, more security people appeared, also running. Lieutenant Krueger went out into the middle of the corridor and held out her badge in one hand, and a handgun, pointed down, but nevertheless, a handgun, in the other. That brought the forward momentum to a quick stop. Lieutenant Kruger said, loudly enough for them to hear her, but still not shouting, “I order you to stand down. I am Federal Marshal Kruger, of the Munich office. I have a subpoena for a Mr. Mencia. If he is not brought to me within the next five minutes, I will close this plant down.” She paused, and when she saw no evidence of activity said, just slightly more quietly, “You now have four minutes.”
She turned and pointed to two of her men and said, “You two go with those former security men and bring Mr. Mencia. We will wait here, but for no more than four minutes.”
Her two men trotted up the corridor, brandishing their badges and paper warrants. She turned and went back into the lobby. She said, looking at the still talking receptionist, “You are hereby ordered to shut down your communications to the outside, and you will not place any further comms. Is that understood?” The r
eceptionist nodded her head shakily, bent down and pressed one button, then she backed away from the console. Lt. Kruger pointed to the break room and said, “Wait in there.” She didn’t wait to see if the woman was going to obey or not.
She reentered the break room and I asked, “Would you like some coffee? It appears to be quite good. Expensive, I’d say.” She smiled and nodded her head, “Yes, lieutenant, I would. I take mine with sugar please.” I smiled angelically over at Elian who grinned back.
In approximately ten minutes the door opened and a somewhat disheveled middle aged and overweight man appeared. He looked to be suffering from an extreme case of red-faced anger and perhaps, a little fear, and I smiled in anticipation.
I greeted him, “Good morning sir. We are Lieutenants Padilla and Turner, Federal Fleet, and we have come to your fine company to have a little chat with you, and perhaps take a tour of your facilities. Would you like some coffee? It is quite tasty and I am certain, very expensive. Sir?”
Mr. Mencia took in our youthful appearance and decided to get angry at we children. He bristled, “What is the meaning of this?” I turned to Elian and it was all we could to not to burst into laughter. I looked back at Mr. Mencia and said, “Sir, do you know of an Admiral Lee?” He looked blankly at me and after a moment said, “Yes. Now, you will tell me who you are and why you are here, or I will contact the authorities.”
Hawk Seven (Flight of the Hawk) Page 62