The Last Paladin

by Ward Wagher

  “Are you really that stupid?” Tomas shouted.

  “I thought you would be happy to see the Paladin in trouble.”

  “I could give a rat’s ass about whether that swine in Chicago is inconvenienced. But if those statements landed in my inbox, you can bet he as seen them too. He would be justified in coming down on us like the hammer of Thor.”

  “How could he find out?” Warren asked.

  Tomas walked back to his desk and collapsed into the chair. “This just gets worse and worse. Do you know what I think? I think you took money from the Caliph to allow those Arabian terror teams through the Port of Charleston. They got loose in the continent and killed a bunch of people. If RWB’s security people march into Columbia and ask for your head on a pike I won’t be able to do squat.”

  “You would not let them do that, would you, Daddy?” Warren O’Bleck began to show real fear.

  “What else could I do? The alternative would be to tell them I did it. And they would shoot me. Is that what you want?”

  The older man studied his son and shook his head when the answer became apparent.

  “You may be my son, but you are a dumb ass! If they take me out and stand me up against the wall, do you really think they would let you run this place in my stead? No. The O’Bleck family would be out of business.”

  “I cannot believe they would do something like that, Daddy.”

  “You have done some incredibly foolish things in your life, son, but this tops them all by a goodly amount.”

  He pushed a button on his 3D display and one of the presidential security officers walked in.

  “Jack, I need you to place Warren under arrest. I want him confined to a cell with no contact with anyone. He has left me an incredible goat circus to clean up.”

  “Daddy, you cannot do this!” Warren shouted.

  “You did it to yourself you little cretin!” he shouted. “Get out of my sight.”

  The man leaned back in his chair and put his hand over his forehead. He rocked back and forth and tried to figure out how he was going to get out of the mess his son had created. He opened his eyes to see another figure standing in front of his desk.

  “What do you want, Latham?” he demanded crossly.

  “Warren must have really kicked over the chamber pot this time, Sir,” Howard Latham said.

  O’Bleck glared at his chief of staff and handed him the bank statements. “I might as well show these to you now. You will find out soon enough.”

  Latham looked at the documents for a few moments. “Warren was taking money from the Caliph?”

  “That is what it looks like.”

  He studied the statements a few moments more. “He let the terror teams into the country, I suppose.”

  O’Bleck nodded. “That is what it looks like to me.”

  “Half the people on the continent will be after us, then,” Latham commented. “What do you want me to do?”

  “My first thought is to bury this as deep as possible and then deny everything. But I think we need to take the time to handle this carefully. The smart thing to do may be to inform the Paladin about our shocking discovery. That might buy us some credibility.”

  “If the Paladin decides to march in here and depose you, there would probably not be a lot we could do about it.”

  O’Bleck grinned sourly at Latham. “Is that my chief of staff nagging me again about not spending enough on our military?”

  “No, Sir.” Latham hesitated. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Listen to me, Howard. We have had this conversation before. I know I am not terribly smart. But compared to many of my ancestors, I am a towering genius. Unfortunately, my son hews closely to the family tree.”

  “I… I do not know what to say,” Latham stammered.

  “Say nothing for the moment. Let me tell you where I am going with this. Some of my predecessors in this chair have done surpassingly stupid things. The Paladins have had ample opportunity to come in and settle the score once and for all. They have not done so, I think because they are not territorial minded. They make their money from commerce, not land.”

  “I recognize what you are saying, Sir,” Latham said, “but I do not know where you are going with it.”

  “What I am saying is that they prefer to have a working government in place here, no matter how much we annoy them.”

  “Do you think we might get away with this, then?”

  “No, I do not think that. I think that if we are prepared to grovel, we might get out of this with our heads still attached.”

  “I believe I would prefer that.”

  O’Bleck snorted. “You have this way of understating things, Latham.”

  “But what about Warren?”

  “What do you think will happen when I finally shuffle off and Warren replaces me in the presidency?”

  “May I be honest, Sir?”

  “Always, Latham. Always.”

  “Sir, the proverbial handbasket comes to mind.”

  O’Bleck nodded. “Exactly. So, here is what we are going to do.”

  § § §

  Ellen Dwyer stepped diffidently into the office. Her elevation to the position of Secretary to the Paladin had come suddenly and was unexpected. She had known RWB since he was a child and knew what to expect. But the role was new. She was now effectively running the Palatinate for the Paladin.

  Dwyer had spent decades rotating in and out of the government. Her position in the Treasury entailed a lot of responsibility and she enjoyed the work. But she also loved the time she spent on the outside, working the family’s investment business. Being the Paladin’s Secretary was a permanent government position, and she would likely remain in the role for the rest of her life. She was excited about the opportunities and also harbored bittersweet feelings about a portion of her life she left behind.

  “Tomas O’Bleck requests a conversation with you, Sir.”

  “Let me remind you that I am not Sir. You probably changed my diapers at one point.”

  She blushed but drove through to the point. “Will you accept his comm request?”

  “Yes. I need to talk to the old porker. Put him through.”

  O’Bleck’s aging face appeared on the screen and RWB wondered if all the O’Blecks looked like swine. The upturned nose was a family characteristic.

  “Tomas,” he said.

  “Paladin,” O’Bleck nodded quickly. “I received some disturbing news, and after some thought decided I needed to share it with you.”

  Disturbing news from an O’Bleck usually meant bad news, RWB thought. “What is it I do not want to hear?”

  “It appears our Arabian friends have been entering the continent through the Port of Charleston. I discovered evidence of bribery. I am now in the process of cleaning up the mess.”

  “Is that so?” RWB commented. “While I am not happy about what your countrymen have done, I appreciate your taking the trouble to inform me. Your malefactor was indirectly responsible for at least a couple dozen deaths. I trust you will act accordingly. Some of those who died were from the CFS.”

  “I am well aware of that, Paladin,” O’Bleck said through gritted teeth. “I can assure you I have the problem under control.”

  “Thank you, Tomas.” Maybe it was time to pour some oil on the situation, RWB thought. “I realize there is not a great deal of love lost between us, but I have to admit that the relations between our two nations have been smooth during your presidency. Thank you for your efforts.”

  O’Bleck’s mouth dropped open. He was not quite sure how to respond to the compliment.

  “Umm, yes. Well, if any further information comes to hand, I will make sure you receive it.”

  “Thank you, Tomas.”

  “Thank you, Paladin.”

  A little later Chaim Lewis sat in RWB’s office as the Paladin played a recording of the vid conversation for him.

  “That is an amazing conversation,” Lewis commented. “I would never have believ
ed it coming from an O’Bleck.”

  “There was, of course,” RWB stated, “whatever it was he did not want to tell me.”

  “He obviously did not want you to find out about this before he could talk to you. I think he could have kept it quiet with very little risk.”

  “As elliptical as he was, I think it is clear whoever pulled this stunt was someone close to him. Especially considering the damage control.”

  The room grew quiet as each took refuge in his thoughts. The Paladin glanced out the window at the gathering afternoon clouds. The weather scientists predicted thunderstorms in the early evening, and he wondered where he could go to get a good vantage point. He had no desire to go up on the roof again and thought Carper would probably tie him up if he tried. Another thought slipped into his mind and he turned it over for a few moments before he looked sharply at Lewis.

  “You know, Chaim, over the past several years Tomas usually sent Warren anytime he needed to get a message to me. Why do you suppose he commed me directly, this afternoon?”

  Lewis rubbed his hand over his mouth in thought. He looked up suddenly.

  “You do not suppose little Warren was collecting baksheesh from the Caliph?”

  “That is exactly what I am thinking,” RWB said. “The little weasel is certainly capable of it. I wonder how Tomas found out.”

  “That whole family has always been on the take. I do not know why anyone would be surprised.”

  “Actually, Tomas has been fairly honest. At least that is what Pop told me. Chaim, I think I want you to keep an eye on things in Columbia. If Warren O’Bleck disappears, that may confirm our thinking.”

  “Would Tomas liquidate his own son?” Lewis asked.

  “He is certainly capable of it. Have your people in the free state keep their ears to the ground. Something like this is too big for them to keep completely quiet.”

  “I will do so.”

  “Thanks for your time, Chaim,” said the Paladin. “I need to talk to Arlen and see if we have anything on the teams that are already here. They are going to pop up sooner or later, and I want to make sure we drop the hammer on them when they do.”

  “Given the circumstances, we have done well, so far.”

  “Better than we have any right to expect. But we need to get it stopped Chaim. And we need to send a message to the Caliph.”

  Lewis nodded as he stood up. “That will be more difficult.”

  “I have some ideas.”

  The Paladin smiled grimly as Chaim Lewis left the office.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The long summer days were ending in the Upper Midwest Palatinate. The climate had stubbornly refused to return to the idyllic warmth of the twentieth century and that meant the winters came early and were fierce. RWB always regretted the change in seasons. Spring and summer were his seasons. With that came the thunderstorms he loved.

  He had read literature that referred to the winter of a man’s soul and once again wondered if that was what he was experiencing. These were not happy days for the Paladin. He had lost his father in the spring and now understood what it meant to miss the old man. And he had lost what he considered to be the great love of his life during the summer. Scout’s death was senseless, but he wondered if it had been avoidable. The girl had a nihilist streak and he thought she might have devised a way to bring on death regardless of how he protected her.

  He stared out the window as the afternoon shadows grew deeper and idly spun the fidget spinner on his desk. He had fallen into his dark mood shortly after lunch and it only worsened as the afternoon wore onward.

  His comm trilled and he picked it up to look at the screen. He did not recognize the source, but the limited AI that managed the communications systems had flagged it as someone who had his comm code and had a reason to call.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “RWB! Cliff Barr,” came the voice. “We have not talked in a while, and I needed to give you a call.”

  The Paladin looked at the display and vaguely recognized the cheerful face looking out at him.

  “Hey, Cliff. What is going on?” RWB asked tonelessly.

  “I am having a party tonight,” Cliff said. “In Memphis. Remember where the last one was? Anyway, several of us were talking and nobody has seen you around recently. We would love to have you at the party.”

  RWB shrugged. “I do not think….”

  “Cheer up, RWB. This is what you need. I think you have been too busy there in Chicago. You know what they say about all work and no play?”

  “Yes, well, I will think about it. The party is at the same place?”

  “Absolutely. I had to pay a bonus to the hotelier after our last party. It got a little wild.”

  “Word has it that your parties get to be a lot wild,” RWB commented.

  “Ha!” the other man barked a laugh. “I love my parties. Will we see you tonight?”

  “I do not know, Cliff. I will think about it.”

  “Do not think for too long. The party starts in three hours.”

  “Right. Thank you for calling, Cliff.”

  “Anytime, RWB.”

  The Paladin sat for a while playing with the spinner and then visibly made up his mind. He picked up his comm again.

  “Jones, time to load up the troops, we are going to Memphis.”

  “Very well, Boss. Will this be to attend a party?”

  “Yes. It starts in three hours.”

  “I will get things moving. I think we can plan to launch in about two hours.”

  “Fine. That will give me time to finish up a few things in the office and then change clothes. Thanks, Sing.”

  “You are welcome, RWB.”

  Jones laid down his comm and yelled out the office door.

  “Lesa, we are going traveling. Put the party plan into action.”

  “Okay, Chief,” Carper yelled back. “Do we have a destination?”

  “Memphis,” was Jones’s one-word response.

  Carper quickly brought the travel plan up on her display and reviewed the items. It had been a while since the Paladin had gone to a party. There were some very specific requirements for the security team. She quickly keyed in Ellen Dwyer to replace Holden Palmer in the document. Once she had confirmed that there were no other necessary changes to the plan, she hit the execute button displayed in the plan. This shot messages to everyone concerned about the upcoming travel for the Paladin.

  She then called the Paladin’s steward to make sure he was packed for the trip. RWB often took care of his own packing, but she liked to make sure everything was covered. Jones had told her one time that she was obsessive. She had concluded that in her case it was simply attention to detail.

  “How does the weather look?” RWB asked as he climbed into the shuttle.

  The late afternoon sun shone through the windows and made the cabin of the shuttle a bright, cheery place.

  “Clear through most of the central part of the continent,” Cathay replied. “There is something brewing out over the plains, but it will not roll over us until tomorrow afternoon. It is not expected to be a very strong weather system.”

  RWB slipped into his usual seat and buckled up. Jones dropped into the sofa across from the Paladin and pulled out his comp term. Lesa Carper moved towards the six rows of standard seats at the back of the cabin.

  “You are not planning to save my life again tonight, are you, Lesa?” RWB called back to her with a grin.

  “I very much hope it will not become necessary, Boss,” she called back. “But we, as usual, are prepared for anything.”

  RWB held his fist in the air with his thumb up. The other security personnel chuckled.

  “It is good to see you back on balance, Boss,” Jones commented.

  “Do not hold your breath, Jones. It was pretty bad this afternoon. When Cliff Barr called about the party, I decided I needed to get out for a bit.”

  Jones nodded. “What do we know about Cliff Barr?”

 
“He is one of the movers and shakers in the Memphis city-state,” RWB replied. “He started collecting boats when he was a teenager and now has a good-sized shipping business. I think he is younger than I am.”

  “I do not have a good read on the security situation in Memphis,” Jones continued. “The place has been quiet, historically, but we do not have a lot of assets there.”

  “You and I probably need to talk to Chaim about that, then,” the Paladin said. “With recent events, I do not like being in the dark about things.”

  “I will make a note of that,” Jones said.

  Cathay had been working through the checklist and fired up the turbines. They made the typical vacuum cleaner sound as they spooled up. Thirty seconds later, he eased the shuttle off the pad and pointed it southwards, climbing steeply.

  “Richard flies more conservatively than Fillip, did,” RWB commented.

  “I think Fillip liked to give the passengers a thrill,” Jones said. “Rest assured Richard knows how to make the bird dance for him.”

  “He is probably keeping it nice and smooth for you, Jones.”

  Jones scowled slightly. “I wish he had not told you that I do not like to fly. I am really not that much of a granny.”

  The Paladin chuckled. “You wear that aggrieved face so well, Sing.”

  Jones shook his head and returned to studying his comp term. RWB grinned to himself. Though Jones was even-keeled, there were some things he did not like to be teased about.

  The flight to Memphis took about thirty-five minutes and Cathay placed the shuttle on the roof-top landing pad with his usual smoothness. Rather than moving the shuttle to an FBO at the edge of the city, Jones had arranged to keep it on the rooftop overnight. It was expensive to do so, but it greatly improved the security situation.

  Once on the ground floor of the hotel, RWB walked towards the large meeting rooms. He followed the slightly muffled sounds of the party until he reached the venue. Jones and Carper stayed close and another half dozen of the guard fanned out to provide a perimeter. He listened through his earbug as everyone slid into position.

  “Security Cordon in position, Chief,” Carper murmured.