Harlaan oakes was indeed waiting at the foot of the steps to the landing area once the Republic turbo squeaked to a lurching stop at VanBuren Field, outside of the Federal District and once we walked down the steps and into the cold misting rain. He looked at Llysette.
Her eyes were cold as she returned his glance.
Harlaan looked to me.
“No,” I said coldly. “Her life has been played with enough. She knows. You and Minister Jerome’s replacement are going to protect her even more than before. She’s going to be doing international tours, now, I imagine. A cultural ambassador, for President Armstrong.”
“You’re presuming a great deal, Johan.” He glanced back at the turbo.
“I don’t presume, Harlaan, and I don’t play games. Haven’t you figured that out yet? Have you gotten the follow-up invitation from First Counselor Cannon?” I offered a smile.
He winced slightly. “Speaker Hartpence isn’t pleased.”
“He’ll be less pleased as events unfold. The president should be happy, and that should be your concern.” I paused. “I presume you have transportation for us to the B&P station. We’re ready to go home after we’ve debriefed you.” This time I was doing the debriefing, rather than being debriefed. It felt good.
“I thought it might be something like this. I have a secure limousine.”
Two soldiers carried our luggage to the limousine, and I enjoyed that a great deal. I kept a tight grip on my datacase, although I had prevailed on the embassy to
use their duplicating equipment to make a second set of plans, now in the lining of Llysette’s luggage.
None of us spoke, not until the limousine was steaming back toward the Presidential Palace—or the B&P station on the Mall. The panel between us and the driver was closed, and Harlaan sat with his back to the front of the limousine.
I held out the flexible mesh helmet. “Do you know what that is?”
Harlaan winced, almost in spite of himself.
“I take it you recognize this. Ferdinand’s agent in Deseret was wearing it. He had orders to kill me, and probably Llysette. According to Ralston’s briefings,” I lied, “only Branson-Hay had figured out the helmets. I never had one. I only saw them once, in his laboratory, and his research was totally funded through the Spazi. They were supposed to be destroyed, as I recall, by Minister Jerome.” I pocketed the helmet.
“Johan, there could be other explanations… .” He paused. “What happened to him?”
“He’s dead, but the Deseret security chief knows he was an Austrian agent.”
“There could be a dozen explanations… .”
I waved off his words. “Now, the other thing is that there was a complete duplicate of my home SII system waiting for me in Deseret—in the hands of the Revealed Twelve. The system had to have been duplicated when the Spazi had my house under complete surveillance. Even the files were there, as well as some equipment duplicated from a hidden storage room in my house.”
“That’s a serious charge, Johan. I know the Spazi and you have not gotten on well, but that seems beyond anything anyone would expect.”
I was getting tired of his explanations. “Also, the schismatics were all armed with Austrian weapons, new Austrian weapons.”
“That would figure,” he admitted. “It’s to their interest to keep us at odds.”
“Something else of interest was a pressure switch bomb that I detonated at our house in New Bruges. Jerome wired me the next morning and suggested I leave such matters to the Spazi, but the problem is that where I detonated the bomb wasn’t visible to his observers. So how could they have known what it was that exploded? He didn’t ask, by the way—he told me.”
Harlaan’s mouth twisted.
“Needless to say, Harlaan, I’m not very happy with these events, nor would I be thrilled if I were President Armstrong, because it looks like someone wanted us both dead, with a trail back to you and the president.” I smiled. “There’s also one other small problem.”
“Oh, Johan?”
“There’s a very smart head of security in Deseret who is very close to the First Counselor and who won’t be very happy dealing with Minister Jerome. The First Counselor has also indicated that he would not be pleased to deal with a
government whose minister of security would support Austrian agents in Deseret.” I was elaborating slightly, but Cannon had conveyed almost that much indirectly.
“Why is that a problem?”
“Because if I were the president, I wouldn’t be very happy if the First Speaker of Deseret were to stall negotiations because of Jerome’s actions, especially given his Austrian … contacts. And the message both the president and the Speaker received this morning offers a far better option.”
“All this is surmise.”
“Come now, Harlaan,” I chided him.
“Minister Eschbach, what do you want of me? I am merely an advisor to the head of state, not a cabinet minister.”
“In practical terms, Harlaan, I want the Spazi to stop trying to eliminate me—and Llysette—whenever they think they might be able to get away with it.” I paused. Time for another push. “There’s also one other thing.”
“I’m not sure Columbia can stand one more thing,” he said disgustedly.
Llysette’s eyes narrowed, and she smiled coldly. “You have not been in Ferdinand’s prisons. You have not watched your husband sacrifice himself for his wife and his country. You, do you plan to silence me? You, do you plan to put me away for small politics? Do you wish to upset the head of Deseret? He would be upset, if anything happened to me.” Her green eyes were as hot as the sun, as cold as midwinter eve in New Bruges, and as deadly as when she had held a Colt-Luger to my forehead.
Harlaan’s forehead beaded sweat, and he wiped it. “I can’t promise anything.”
“Harlaan,” I said gently, “you don’t have to promise. Just do what needs to be done. Now, there is one other matter. I’m working out some arrangements with FrancoPetEx.”
“Yes.”
“It appears that there is some New French interest in Columbia becoming more energy-independent. Through some personal contacts, of the type not available to Minister Jerome, I have finalized the agreement.”
“What did you agree to?”
“For services already rendered in Deseret, once they are confirmed officially, I will receive the entire plans, specifications, and design drawings, including proprietary technology, of a stage-three Saint synthetic fuel plant.”
“What services?” Harlaan asked tiredly.
“The murder of Ferdinand’s agent among the Revealed Twelve.”
Harlaan winced again. “Just how many bodies did you leave behind this time, Minister Eschbach?”
“None that will ever be attributed to Columbia. That’s all that counts, isn’t it?”
“You will do what is necessary, n’est-ce pas?” asked Llysette, a chill smile on her lips.
The president’s advisor shrugged tiredly. “Have events left me much choice?”
“No.”
“Non.”
“When can I promise delivery of those plans?” Harlaan asked after a time.
“When the Spazi situation is resolved,” I said. “I don’t think my contacts would feel comfortable with Minister Jerome’s attitude or position.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Minister Eschbach.”
I shook my head. “You and the president set the price when you drafted us. It’s only fair that it be paid.”
“This is going to change everything,” he mused.
Even Harlaan didn’t understand exactly how much, and I wasn’t about to tell him. After all, the journey is the fun, not the destination. Death is always the eventual destination, so there’s no point in hurrying the trip.
I smiled at Llysette and leaned back. She put her head on my shoulder, and the faint scent of her, and Ivoire, surrounded me.