Grantville Gazette. Volume 21

by Eric Flint

  "My love! You astound me."

  She blushed and looked at the floor. "I just remembered what Pitor said about how up-time people were very careless with passwords and such. I checked around the office like we planned and I couldn't find any. But I found them on the hard drive. At least I think I did."

  Pitor had his head down on the computer, and after a while, gave a little whoop. "That's it! We're into the file!" I am making copies now. On floppies, zip discs and the hard drive. That should cover us."

  Francois came out of the kitchen with four beers. "This calls for a toast. To Ursula. The brave, beautiful, and very smart lady to whom we owe it all. Cheers."

  Ian embraced her, and gave her a gentle kiss. "Why do you look so sad, my dear?"

  "Because you are all going to leave in the morning, and I will be very lonely. At least until you send for me, Ian."

  Ian looked into her eyes. "I'm very proud of you, my love. I 'm going to miss you. You know I'll send for you the moment I get back to my estates in England. There are many things I must do there before I bring you to me. You understand, don't you?"

  Ursula sighed. "I'll wait for your letter, and leave my family in an instant. Do you have my traveling money, for when you send for me? You said I would have it now, Ian. Do you have it?"

  He smiled the warm smile of his at Ursula, which certainly melted her heart, and reached for an envelope in his case below the table. He handed it to her. "This is your money for traveling, my dear."

  She blushed and turned away, then quickly looked into his eyes and chewed on her lower lip with sadness. "The next time we walk arm in arm, it will be in London, at your estate. Please don't wait long to send for me."

  "It will be as soon as humanly possible, my love." He released his embrace. His eyes were shining at her with pride. "May I have the pleasure of walking you home for one last time, my love? I am afraid we will have some company." He kissed her hand, and turned with a flourish. He proffered his hand, she accepted with a curtsy. He then took her hand and led her through the door. As they hit the outdoors, the air felt crisp. Fall was coming and there was a hint of it in the night air. They waited as Pitor and Francois locked the house. They each had a floppy disc in their pockets, just to be sure.

  They joined arms and began walk toward town, with Francois and Pitor following them. Ursula looked up at the moon, and sighed again. "Will you send for me in the spring, Ian? Is that when?"

  "Most likely, my love."

  She touched the envelope tucked into her waist. "I hope I can wait that long."

  He leaned over to her. "We English have a saying about such things. 'Good things come to those who wait patiently.' That will be you."

  She giggled excitedly. "Yes! I am so looking forward to seeing London. The holes in the tower walls are quite a tourist attraction now, I hear.

  "You are right, my dear."

  "Oh, Ian." She put her arm around him, and felt the blade he sometimes carried inside his coat. She looked at him quizzically.

  "It is a precaution, Ursula. Nothing more. We have all worked hard to get this information. We can't let anyone else have them, can we?"

  "You are so wise. I knew the first time I saw your face in the pub. 'That is a wise and caring man,' I said to myself. Hard to believe it was only three months ago. It seems like a lifetime." She looked over her shoulder at the two men following at a respectful distance. "There is no chance of us to be alone tonight then is there, Ian? Not with them behind all the time."

  Ian leaned to her again. "Sadly, my love, it's true. I rather wish you had said something earlier about being alone together, before tonight. There just isn't enough time, I'm afraid."

  She shrugged. "I can wait until London. We will be together then."

  "Over my dead body, you good for nothing piece of-" It was Eeyore Volz charging out of the blackness of night. His powerful arms took Ian down to the ground. There was not time for him to draw a blade. They began to struggle.

  Ursula's first impulse was to scream. She cut off the impulse, and nearly crashed head-on into Pitor and Francois as they were coming to Ian's aid. She hissed at her father to stop. Francois and Pitor dove in on the side of Ian. Ian then stood and drew his blade.

  "No!" hissed Ursula. "You can't do this. I will scream if you do. The entire neighborhood will hear us and we will all go to prison." Francois and Pitor had by now pinned her father to the ground. Ian knelt down with the blade in his hand.

  "Ian!" she hissed again, "you mustn't!"

  "Quiet, Ursula." He turned to the men struggling on the ground. "Stop it and get up. I have this blade, I will use it if I need to. You must be quiet." The struggling stopped and the three men got up, disheveled and dirty. Karol had his arms pinned behind him.

  "If you hurt her, so help me…"

  "If you make any more noise, I will hurt you. Let's all be quiet, and finish a nice walk home, shall we? It is only just around the corner." The little group formed up, and began to move toward Karol's home.

  Francois and Pitor frog marched Karol, while Ian took Ursula's arm, still holding the knife. Her heart was racing again, as she tried to figure an angle.

  Karol stage whispered to Ursula. "Didn't I tell you getting involved would lead to no good. Didn't I tell you this piece of shit is no good? Did you listen to me?"

  She felt Ian go tense, and he turned toward her father. "Papa. Be quiet. Please, he has the knife."

  They walked along in silence for a moment, until Ian lowered his head to her, and asked, "Why didn't you scream?"

  Her knees went weak, and she almost stumbled. "I just didn't. I didn't want you or Papa hurt. Didn't want to go to prison."

  He nodded, and they continued to walk. Their home was just around the corner.

  "You are not going to hurt us, are you, Ian?" She felt him stiffen slightly.

  "No." He stiffened some more, turned and growled. "It's right up here. Not a word, Eeyore."

  They rounded the corner and headed for the building. They began to cross the street, when a Grantville police cruiser came slowly around the corner at the far end of the block. It headed toward them, met them halfway across the street and stopped, blocking their way to the little house.

  "Evening, Officer," said Ian calmly. "Can we help you?"

  Ursula noted the officer was a down-timer, and actually quite small for a policeman. He looked familiar. He was looking them over carefully from his seat behind the wheel. Ursula watched him look at each of them, and his eyes settled on Karol. "What's wrong with him? He looks pretty pissed off. What is going on here?"

  "Actually this is my Papa, Karol Volz." The officer looked as though the name didn't register. "You know, Eeyore. He works at the funeral home, building caskets. You certainly have seen him at funerals. He's had a little too much to drink this morning, sir, and these gentlemen were helping me get him home." She turned away from the police car, and looked to her father with pleading eyes. "Isn't that right, Papa?"

  When Ursula looked at him, she saw the rage that was building inside him. "He just needed a little persuasion to come home tonight, right, Papa?" She turned back to the policeman, and smiled at him.

  The radio crackled in the police car. "Patrol Two, this is Dispatch. We have a report of a disturbance with property damage at Monroe and Washington. Sounds like the Scotsmen have been partying at the Flying Pig."

  The officer picked up the microphone and spoke into it. "Copy, Dispatch. Roll patrol one for backup, please." He turned to the group. "You folks get home. Gotta go." The officer turned on his red lights and zoomed away. As the car left, Ursula thought she saw movement in the shadows of the doorway to their place, as if someone had slipped in and eased the door closed behind them.

  Ian turned to Karol. "Well done, old man. You too, my love. Now, into the apartment. Time to wake up Mama."

  They filed into the tiny apartment, and woke Elsa. Karol and Elsa were bound together, gagged, and placed on the kitchen floor. They used cloth from clothing
under repair, bits of rope and a halter or two snagged from a nearby barn, trussing up the Volz's very securely. They could breath, but that was it. Ursula bent down in front of them. "Please be quiet. This will all be over soon. Please." The expression of rage in her father's eyes had become frightening to Ursula. She could never remember seeing this much expression on his face at any time. It was a consuming expression, hard and violent. Her hand went to her mouth involuntarily. She tuned to Ian.

  "You're not going to hurt them. You mustn't." She was still whispering so as to not raise any alarm.

  Ian sighed. "As I see it, we have a couple of options. None of them great. We could take Ursula as a hostage, to guarantee the family silence, but from what she has told me of them, I don't think we could depend on that. Apparently the relationship is not good."

  Ursula turned and looked at her parents on the floor; she could tell her mother was sobbing. She could still see her father's eyes. They were still on fire. His body was quivering. She had never seen him with this much rage. She wondered where it came from. He never showed this much intensity over anything.

  "The other option is to just kill them." Pitor and Francois both looked at Ian, and then at Ursula. Ursula was staring at Ian, her mouth open and her hand in front of it. She reached back and steadied herself against the wall. She saw him finger his blade. Her father struggled against his bonds.

  "You can't." Ursula felt her knees go weak, and she slid down the wall to the floor. The last six hours had driven her to the limit of her emotional endurance. She struggled to stand, and her legs failed to respond. She started to sob. "No, you cannot do it. Please."

  He pulled out his blade and held it to her throat. "Shhh, my love. Quiet." He stood quickly. "Tie her up too." Pitor and Francois mumbled their apologies, and started to gag Ursula.

  Her mind was racing. How did she get into this? All she wanted was a little excitement, a little fun. She was exhausted. There was nothing more she could do. She looked at her parents, and started to sob again. As the gag reached her face, somewhere she finally found the strength to plead. "You were going to send for me, Ian. I thought you loved me?"

  "Did you really think I would send for you?" He smiled his smile, and all Ursula could do was hate it now. There was nothing charming about it. "I have met some naive girls-it is part of this line of work-but you, you fell for it hard. It's refreshing in a way. Gives one hope for humanity."

  "I believed you."

  "At times I did myself." He shrugged. " C'est la vie."

  Pitor looked at her sadly, and started once again to put the gag into her mouth. She shook back the sobs. She had to try something-anything. "Wh-wait. Y-you are forgetting. Something." Ursula choked back another sob.

  He held up his had to pause Pitor. "What is that, my love?"

  "If I tell anyone, I-I will go to prison. I'm not going to say anything to anyone about this. I can't. Think about that, Ian. I don't want to go to prison."

  Pitor looked at Ian. "She has a point."

  She looked at her parents again, bound with only their eyes watching her. She found more strength she did not know was there. "And if we are found dead, the police are not stupid. They will check the mansion right away. They will put it together with my extra time in the Department of Economic Affairs. Pitor said if they know what to look for; they will be able to tell the computer was on when I was there. They have radios. The police saw you take us here. You would never get away, no matter how many fast horses you have. Think about it, Ian."

  Francois stepped forward in the small kitchen. "She has a point there, too."

  Ian paused, put his hands on his hips and hung his head in thought. He looked at Ursula. Ursula looked at him, emotionally spent and exhausted, unable to move. He paced back and forth a couple of times in the small apartment. He began to nod his head.

  "Okay. But, Ursula. If I ever hear about you mentioning this to anyone, I will return someday and end this. Do you understand?

  She sobbed again. "Of course. You have my word. Thank you. Thank you."

  He turned to Elsa and Karol. "Do you understand?" Elsa nodded vigorously, and Karol just glared. "Eeyore, I think you need to understand what this means. You either go along with us, or I will have to kill you. Do you understand?"

  After a brief pause that made Ursula's heart stop, Karol nodded yes.

  "Are you going to call the police or turn in your daughter?"

  Karol shook his head no.

  "I have your word on this?"

  Karol nodded again, and Ian stood up.

  "Should we untie them," asked Pitor?

  Ian looked at the anger still boiling in Karol's eyes. He shook his head. "No. Go ahead and loosen up Mama, but keep this Eeyore tied up. He still looks too pissed off. He needs time to settle down." He knelt in front of Elsa. "Mrs. Volz, my apologies." He shifted to Eeyore. "And Mr. Volz. You need to be more pleasant. Be nice to people once in a while. Especially your daughter. Smile. It may do you good." He stood. "Is there anything we are forgetting?"

  "The traveling money," asked Pitor?

  Ian looked at Ursula, lying on the floor. "Do you still have it?"

  She nodded.

  He quietly moved to her, and gently stroked some hair from her face. She recoiled slightly. "Keep it." In the darkness, she could see him smile. "You did good, kid." He looked at Pitor and Francois. "Any objections?"

  They shook their heads.

  With that, the three men left the room, and closed the door behind them. Ursula slowly collapsed onto the floor and lay at her parent's feet, for she did not know how long.

  She awoke from her trance with a start, and sat up. Ursula could feel her father's anger was diminished. She was sure his discomfort was severe. She began to untie her mother first, when she heard a noise at the door. She could feel her father tense. For a moment she thought they had changed their minds, and were coming back to finish them. The door opened, and she could just make out a man with a knife. Her father saw him too, and started to struggle.

  "Ursula, are you okay?" The voice had an unusual accent, Spanish and something else. Her heart leapt in joy, and she started to get to her feet, but fell back in exhaustion. Two more men entered the room, and more were out in the hall. She could tell they had up-time weapons. The first man knelt in front of her.

  "Lorenzo! Am I glad to see you."

  "And I'm glad you're okay as well. Are your parents okay?"

  "A little shook up. Get Mama cut free, please." A grey dawn was starting to break over the hills. Several candles were brought in to lighten the room.

  Someone pulled her father's gag out, about the time Lorenzo was helping Ursula to her feet. The room was so small, they could only have a couple of people working in there at a time cutting them loose.

  Elsa was not happy with the sharp knives cutting the bindings made from her customers clothing. "Stop cutting the cloth! It is not mine, and I will have to repair it. Untie it, you idiot." She scolded the men in the dark clothing and was carried into the hallway to give them more room to work.

  Ursula sat across from her father as Lorenzo went to untie him. She could see his eyes were still angry, but not furious as before. "First of all Papa, I want you to meet Lorenzo Nasi. He works for the government in counter-intelligence. He is my handler."

  "Nice to meet you, sir. I apologize for not coming earlier. We had to be sure they were headed out of town. They're gone, computer and all." Lorenzo did not smile much, as he was always so proper. He continued to work on the bindings.

  "This is the Jew you met in the alley."

  "Yes, Papa. But I first met him almost a year and a half ago, right after I started at the mansion."

  "You have known this Jew for over a year and a half?"

  Lorenzo Nasi raised his eyebrows at Karol, and slowed his cutting of the bindings.

  Ursula felt her strength returning. "That's right. Very good. You are very clever. Tell me the rest of it. What do you think?" Ursula knew this mental puzzl
e would calm her father.

  He shifted slightly as a rope was cut, and tension was relieved behind his back. "That's better. I don't understand why they let those men get away. What did they do?"

  Lorenzo chimed in. "They stole some top secret lists of our agents, all around Europe. Your daughter helped to steal them. From a computer, I might add"

  Karol looked confused. "Why would you do that, Ursula? You should not be involved in such things. You should not endanger your family in such a way."

  "Papa, please. Think about the files."

  He paused for a moment. "That would be disastrous. We will have to move right away…" His voice trailed off. "You let them steal those files, didn't you? Those aren't the real files, are they?"

  Lorenzo looked impressed as he cut another binding. "You were right, he is smart!"

  Ursula sat back with a smile. "Told you he was. Except you almost messed it up, Papa."

  He looked puzzled, then nodded. "I see. That's why you didn't scream when I tackled that smarmy English bastard. If the police had gotten involved, the whole plot would have been discovered." He looked at his daughter as more ropes fell away. He frowned at her and nodded his head. "But why couldn't you tell us what was going on?"

  Ursula looked over at Lorenzo. "What is it called again? Operational security?"

  Lorenzo nodded. "Yes. People only know if they have a specific need to know. With this much riding on the outcome of the operation, we just couldn't extend the need to know."

  "After you attacked Ian, Papa, w-we just improvised. I assumed Lorenzo and his men were nearby the whole time, and they were. I don't think I could have done it without knowing they were behind me-us, actually."

  "How did you know they wouldn't kill us," asked Karol?

  Lorenzo shrugged. "That's one reason we asked the police car to delay you. To make sure they knew they could be identified. It gave us time we needed to get our team in the building. We also know Ian, whose real name is Maurice Rettanuer, and is originally from Alsace. Which is quite a way from England. He is a spy for hire, a 'freelancer' to use an up-time notion, but he has never killed anyone, as near as we can tell. No reason for him to start now."