Chapter 5: The Dictator's Ball

"Personal shield?"

Jubilee looked inside the neatly packed suitcase. "Check."

Tom checked that off the item list. "Hand blaster? I know, I know, but it's standard issue, whether you're a biological blaster or not."

Jubilee sighed. "Yes, check."

Tom: "Stealth clothing?"

Jubilee: "Check."

Tom: "Bombs?"

Jubilee grinned. "Won't need them." She opened the suitcase up wider and started tossing items out of the case. Tom gawked at her.

"Are you nuts? How are you going to kill him if you don't have all that stuff?"

Jubilee lifted her hand and let a brief play of rainbow sparkles dance over her fingertips and knuckles before reabsorbing her paffs. "This way." She continued tossing items out of the suitcase.

Tom rescued the blaster before it hit the ground. "Damn it, Jubes, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jubilee folded her arms and leaned against the table. "I saw the plans of the compound's layout. It's going to be really difficult getting in by stealth; he's got defenses and motion sensors and all sorts of stuff. I don't want to expend that kind of effort on such a slimeball when there's an easier way."

"'An easier way' how?" Tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Jubilee shrugged. "Walk in the front door. Think about the principle of Occam's Razor, Tom; never look for a complicated solution when there's a simpler one handy. Or as an old friend of mine said; 'Sometimes simpler is easier, darlin'." She mimicked Logan's gruff voice perfectly.

"And how do you propose to just 'walk in the front door?'" Tom asked.

Jubilee turned to her suitcase and opened it. "Estillo's annual birthday celebration is in a week. I'm going to get myself invited to the party." She shook out a long, figure-hugging sequined blue gown with off-the-shoulder straps and a plunging neckline sure to attract the dictator's attention. "What do you think?"

Carl looked at it critically. "Can't move fast in that skirt if you have to."

Jubilee grinned. "I had it altered. You can't see it, but there are invisible seams sewn into the front of the skirt and panels cut along the knee. If I have to, I can rip off about two thirds of the skirt for additional mobility in a crisis."

Carl raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't say much for the dress, but the plan seems sound. So what are you actually going to take, and do? You know Rennick's going to blow his top when he hears about your deviation from his 'Plan'."

Jubilee grinned. "Ah, yes, 'The Plan' that he spent two hours working out the details of. Thing is, Rennick has never been out there in the field. He has no idea what it's like, what I have to do to get in the way he wants me to get in. I've been doing this longer than he's been alive—" (Carl snickered; Rennick was only 35) "--So I know better than he does what the best way in and out is. He's not going to tell me how to do my job until he's as old as I am. And with the way he is, someone may kill him before he even gets half as old." She grinned at him. "So here's my plan; I get myself into that party he throws. That intelligence contact will be able to get me an invitation, and when I go in, I'll make sure I catch Estillo's eye. He's a sucker for pretty women; he'll snap me up in a moment. And when I'm alone with him, I'll do him in, and be out with a minimum of fuss and bother."

Carl frowned. "Hold it. Back up. Did I hear you say something about 'being alone with him'?"

Jubilee nodded.

Carl swore fervently and started pacing. "Jubilee, we know you. We know about your past, your history. And I did some checking, and Estillo is…well, he doesn't have a very good track record for leaving his women intact when he's done with them. Quite a few have ended up dead. He's a sadist, Jubilee, pure and simple. And you've gone through more than your fair share of sadistic torture."

Jubilee smiled gently at him. "Carl, I know. I thought about all of that. But my pain will be a small price to pay for getting a monster like him off the face of the Earth. I saw the pictures of the people he ordered killed. One woman and her daughter…the woman had to watch as her four-year-old was beaten and killed. Can you imagine what that's like? I can't. I've never had any children, and I don't intend to, not with my life the way it is; but I can sympathize with that woman. And she knew she was going to be next. Carl, whatever price I have to pay will be worth it."

"And what if it's your own life?"

Jubilee shook her head. "Not likely. The nanites will probably take care of that for me. All I need is my personal shield, the dress, and maybe some stealth clothing so I can get away. I think that's it."

"But how are you going to kill him? I mean, it's his birthday celebration. There will be dignitaries and visiting foreigners all over the place. He's going to have armored clothing, and possibly a personal shield keyed to both physical and energy contact."

"When we're alone I'll manage to get close to him. Somehow. And I'll send a paff into his mouth and explode it once it reaches his stomach." She smiled viciously. "I did some checking too; his preferred method of execution is a stab wound to the gut. A fatal stab wound. So an exploding gut will be a fitting mode for his execution, and one that everyone will recognize as my signature. And if he's trying to get under my skirt he'll have the shield off so he can…do whatever…and the opportunity will be perfect."

"What if your hands are secured?"

Jubilee smiled maliciously. "My hands will have to be free if he wants me to participate in some of the games he likes to play with girls," she said, and made a rude hand gesture that spoke eloquently of the kind of 'play' Estillo liked.

Carl sighed. "I can see you're determined to do this," he said finally, wearily. "But I'm going on record as being against the plan. In fact, I'm against this whole mission."

Jubilee pinned both Tom and Carl with a piercing blue gaze. "This guy needs to die," she said slowly. "So far the freelancers who have tried to take him out haven't succeeded. They've all died. It's time for us government toadies to take a try." She sighed. "You with me?"

Carl and Tom both nodded. Reluctantly, but they nodded.

"Come on, I have a plane to catch." She kissed them both, a chaste peck on the cheek, and picked up the suitcase.

Two days later an envelope appeared at the front desk of a posh hotel for a Ms. Li. Inside that envelope was an elegant piece of heavyweight paper embossed with the state seal and an invitation to Regent Estillo's annual birthday celebration.

The limo opened and disgorged a beautiful, impeccably dressed Chinese woman in a floor-length blue sequined gown that plunged low down her magnificently tattooed back. The watching crowd oohed, and flashbulbs started clicking. At the far edge of the crowd, some of the poorer people of the small island nation gathered, looking enviously at the rich who had enough money to be invited by the Regent to the annual birthday bash. Jubilee saw one little girl, hollow-eyed and bony, standing at the edge of the crowd, and her heart twisted at the hungry look on the child's face. Controlling her anger at Estillo's greedy reign, she reached into her tiny purse, took out a wallet, and beckoned the child forward.

The press and the crowds parted and the little girl came forward, tightly clutching the hand of a little boy, probably her brother. They were both ragged and dirty, and Jubilee suddenly felt pity. They hadn't had a bath in ages…and she had one whenever she felt like it. She reached out to the little girl, and sucked in a breath when the child backed timidly away from her hand. So not all those smudges were dirt. "I won't hurt you, sweetheart," she said quietly. "Here." She extended the money.

The girl took it disbelievingly. "For us? Miss?" she asked in badly-accented English. "The Regent doesn't allow charity given to the poor. The soldiers beat us."

Jubilee slipped into Spanish. "Yes, it's for you. I am not one of his subjects; I do as I please. How many are in your family?"

"Six," the little girl said. "Abuelo, Papa, Mama, me, Pablo, and we have a new baby at home."

Jubilee reached into her wallet and gave the little girl another large bill. "It's not much, but things will get better soon. I promise."

A gruff guard approached. "No charity! Give the lady back her money!" He raised a baton toward the little girl, who quickly held the money back up as if to avoid a beating. Jubilee quickly folded the small fingers over the money and spoke to the guard in Chinese-accented English. "I am visiting from China. I do not know law here say not to give money to poor. We do all time in Hong Kong. And I am the Regent's guest. Surely it is permitted this time, just once? He would not want to offend me." And standing in such a way as to obscure anyone else's view, she slipped a bill into the guard's hand.

The guard looked at the bill in his hand, then stepped back. "No, we don't want to offend the Regent's esteemed guest. Go on!" he waved the baton at the two urchins. "Go." They waited no longer, but scampered back into the crowd, probably wanting to make their escape with the precious money before they were compelled to give it back. Jubilee watched them go with an ache in her heart. If she had known, she would have brought more money with her. There were a lot of hungry, dirty, ragged hollow-eyed children standing at the fringes of the crowd. She could have fed them all with half the contents of even one of her bank accounts. Things were truly bad here.

"What's the problem?" said a voice, and Jubilee turned. A well-dressed, grossly fat man stood beside the guard she had just bribed, and she winced at the sight of the corpulent belly. This was Estillo. And all that belly fat was going to make his death that much more gruesome.

Good.

The guard was speaking in Spanish, which he believed she didn't understand. He hadn't been close enough to hear her speak to the children. "This woman says she is a guest of yours. She gave some money to a couple of beggars." So much for bribing him to silence. Jubilee had to fight the impulse to curl her lip. A man whose loyalty could be bought was not a man who could be trusted, even to the one buying that loyalty.

Estillo bowed as best he could over his bulging belly. "Madam, the beggars beg because they can get money from such well-meaning and beautiful women such as yourself instead of working for it. That is why we have a law that says no charity can be given to the poor."

Jubilee bowed back and continued to speak in her Chinese-accented English. "In China poor sometimes have no choice but beg. Cannot get work. I thought maybe you make allowance just once?" She smiled beatifically. "After all, since you live in such splendor, surely you not begrudge poor child some small gift?"

Estillo's smile grew fixed, and Jubilee could almost see his mind already planning her incipient demise. As she had intended. She knew the law; she had defied it, and hidden behind a façade of a well meaning but ignorant foreigner, counting on her obviously Asian features to fool Estillo into thinking she was a visiting foreign dignitary. But since she had brought no escort, she wasn't one who was very highly placed, and Estillo would come to the conclusion that she wouldn't be missed, not in a city as rife with crime as this. No doubt he was planning on killing her and then spreading the lie that she was beset on her way back to her hotel by the local banditos. Which was just fine by her; as soon as she was alone with him…

He couldn't make a scene here, not in front of all the reporters. He could, of course, suppress the presses in this country, but Jubilee knew there was press from all over the world here. Estillo couldn't suppress all of them. And if word got out, he might lose some face with the countries supporting his bloody reign. "Quite right," he said through gritted teeth. "I will consider a repeal of the law. Now, if you will accompany me…?" He held out his hand, bowing again. "A woman as beautiful as yourself should not be alone. A party like mine would be best enjoyed in the company of another. Perhaps, as I have no feminine escort—" (his wife had died under mysterious circumstances only a few days before, Jubilee remembered) "—you might care to be my partner for the evening." It was a demand delicately couched in the terms of a request.

Oh yeah. She was now on his hit list. He would keep her by his side all evening to prevent her from speaking to anyone else about this little fiasco; and then he would quietly spirit her away to his inner chambers…she would be looking forward to killing him all evening. Already his corpulence disgusted her; his oily hair, his overly smooth speech, his attitude…killing him would be very satisfying.

She took his hand, bowing over it. "Certainly. Thank you for offering." She turned and swept into the door of the palace and into the grand ballroom on his arm. As they went in, she heard him whisper to the guard, "See me tomorrow about finding the child and getting that money back. I want it. And report to my rooms on my signal; I want this girl eliminated." The guard gave a brief nod, and Estillo led Jubilee into the ballroom. "What was that?' She asked politely. He flashed her a smile that had no true feeling in it.

"I was telling the guard to remind me that the law needed to be repealed."

Good; so he didn't know she could understand him. That would come in useful if he spoke to his sycophants that evening in her presence. She could understand what he said; he might inadvertently reveal something if he thought she was ignorant of his Spanish.

Guests continued to arrive, but Jubilee was largely unaware of them. Her attention was forcibly captured by the fat dictator. Every time her attention started wandering, he would bring her back abruptly with a question. He never allowed her to leave his side, even to the point when the musicians started playing an antiquated waltz and she expressed an interest in dancing. He insisted on accompanying her and made a terrible mess of dancing, stepping all over her feet (the dress was long enough that it covered the heelless shoes she wore; easier for escaping if matters should go south suddenly) and tripping on her dress. He trod heavily on one hem, and she heard the sound of a tearing stitch. She froze until he stepped off the fabric, and sighed in relief. If he had torn the panel off her dress, she would have had a hell of a time explaining why her dress came apart that way.

He declaimed loudly that he had been trained by the best dancing masters in the world, and to prove it he offered to dance another round with her. And so she had to endure his attentions again, feeling as though her face was now permanently frozen in a smile that held no joy in it, and she wondered if she would have any toes left after the dance. It was with some relief that the dance ended, and to her relief he pronounced himself thirsty and offered to bring her a drink. She graciously accepted, and he sidled (well, as best as a 300+ pound, 5 foot 5 man could sidle) off through the crowd to the drinks table, and she found herself standing alone.

Relieved to find herself free of his odious presence, she leaned back against the wall for a moment, relishing the simple luxury of having some time alone to herself for the first time that evening. Parties like this could be fun sometimes, especially if she was with someone she liked. She remembered the last party she had gone to; with Tom and Carl in tow. They had been compelled to attend some government function or other that proved to be immensely entertaining because her two friends had her laughing herself into stitches with their impressions of Rennick trying to kiss the butts of the higher ups. There was no fun to be had here.

Wondering where Estillo was with her drink, she turned to see where he was…and bumped into a couple dancing on the floor. She mumbled an apology and started to turn away when the man she had bumped into turned and looked at her, and her heart stopped.

It was Logan.