Alvis Hall, 1852 hours
"So, a raid in Charleroi for three days?"
Lionel looked up from his plate as Daniel sat down across from him. Around him, several officers from Arnhem, Blenheim, Chindit, Dettingen, and Arroyo Companies were clustered around Louise as they went about their dinner and hashed their plans for the upcoming operation. He nodded before taking a pull from his wine goblet.
"I assume the major told you?" he inquired, returning to the roasted beef on his plate.
Daniel nodded. "Yeah, he already informed the rest of the company and platoon commanders. Word is, Dettingen Company will be handling this one."
Lionel sighed as he finished the last of his dinner. "I'm not surprised at all, I guess I might have jumped the gun on this one."
"You're still going to Charleroi, but you'll be on standby in case the op goes south. Dettingen Company will be handling the recon," Julius explained.
"Do we have an ID on the target?" Travis asked.
The major shook his head. "We have no idea as of yet, but something tells me that he's not that high up the chain. We'll see what recon finds out when we get there."
"Did her highness say anything about capturing him, or are we given authority to take him out?" a lieutenant from Dettingen Company asked.
"She didn't say anything of the sort, but let's assume that she wants him alive for questioning. We can't run the risk of creating a power vacuum," Julius continued on with his dinner.
Sitting beside Julius, Louise let the tiniest signs of a smirk form on her lips. She had never felt more happy to have a familiar - no, partner, that went above and beyond to assist her in any task she was assigned. Things had been looking up ever since the British had arrived in Tristain.
Charleroi, Day 1, 1642 hours
Two days after Henrietta had briefed the Lancastrians on their task at Charleroi, sixteen cloaked men scanned their surroundings as they walked swiftly through Charleroi's streets. Having stopped by the royal palace four hours prior, Dettingen Company's recon element, along with 1st and 2nd Platoons from Arnhem Company, had finalized the details of the operation with the princess and secured an additional 900 new gold for the mission, as was agreed upon before 1st Platoon returned to the academy two days before. Upon arriving at the outskirts of the city, 1st and 2nd Platoons set up camp in a wooded area a hundred meters from the road while two sections from Dettingen Company entered the city.
As the recon element reached the city square, it was decided that they split up in fireteams of four in order to cover more ground, with Delta 1-1 heading for a tavern called the Charming Fairies Inn while Delta 2-1 went for the casino. After booking two rooms for each pair for a three-day period, which cost 60 new gold per room, the designated marksman and the gunner of Delta 1-1 remained in their room for a few minutes while the team leader and the rifleman went about the tavern and surveyed the customers there.
"Delta 2-1, Delta 1-1, we're at a tavern called Charming Fairies Inn. Any signs of the package?" Cpl. Nicholas Fraser, Delta 1-1's team leader, silently keyed his mic.
His rifleman, Kgn. Damon Riley, downed his glass of ale in one go as he kept a close eye around him.
"Negative, 1-1, no eyes on target," Delta 2-1 responded.
"2-1, search the area around the casino. If you still can't see the package within one hour, rendezvous at the tavern. We'll hole up here for the remainder of the op and see what we can do. 1-1 out."
As Nicholas ended his transmission, Damon looked at his watch.
"Well, corporal, looks like it's going to be a long night," the private said as the two other men in their fireteam descended downstairs and joined their table.
"2-1 still at the casino?" Kgn. Randall Blackburn, the gunner, inquired as their DM caught the attention of a passing maid.
Nicholas took a sip of wine as he glanced around him. "They're still tracking him down. Here's hoping that he'll turn up eventually."
After placing their orders, the quartet settled in to wait while keeping a watchful eye on anyone entering and leaving the establishment.
"Any word on Charlie 1? Where did they search?" Kgn. Donovan Macmillan, the designated marksman, piped up.
Damon leaned back on his seat. "They said that they were gonna check one of the hotels in the area. I don't know about Charlie 2. By the way, does the client want him dead?"
"Negative, she wants him alive. As for his guards, it's up to us if we should take them out," Randall replied.
The group fell silent as a maid approached their table with a tray of steamed fish in her hands.
"Your total is 10 new gold, sirs," the maid said.
Nicholas took out the coin pouch and paid up. "Additional five new gold as a tip," he stated.
The maid bowed and left to attend to the other customers as Delta 1-1 dug into their food. Midway through their meal, Delta 2-1 arrived at the tavern, still cloaked, and took a table next to them.
"No sign of the target?" Nicholas queried between bites of his food.
2-1's team leader shook his head. "We checked everywhere, nothing. We'll see what turns up with Charlie when they report in."
Nicholas nodded. "Right. Get a couple of rooms for three days, we'll see if he turns up within that time period."
Outskirts of Charleroi, 1822 hours
"Are you serious?! I have to sleep on the ground?!'
Louise was not amused. While the Lancastrians were used to sleeping anywhere they can, the mage was repulsed by the thought of sleeping in a dingy inn, much less on a sleeping bag out in the open by the woods.
"You do understand that a fancy hotel would cost around 300 new gold per night, right?" Julius deadpanned as he glanced around his encampment. Horses were hitched on one side of the encampment while campfires were lit on another.
"But you don't understand! I'm a noble, I think you can say that I deserve better than this!" Louise spluttered.
Julius just sighed exasperatedly. "Have you been shot upon before?" he asked.
The mage just blinked. "What?"
"Have you ever been shot upon before?" Julius repeated.
"I haven't," Louise replied.
"Did you ever have to endure a hot climate? Live for days eating field rations? Lose a friend? Sleep out in the open without a proper bed? Survive with little entertainment?"
The questions came at a rapid pace, and instantly Louise knew what the major meant.
"No, I'm sorry," she said, with tears threatening to form in her eyes.
Julius took out a cigarette from his pack and lit it. "Then you should consider yourself lucky. You have it easy compared to me and my men. Now, let's see about getting something to eat."
He then strode past her into the encampment and keyed his mic. "Delta 1-1, Dagger Actual, what's the status?'
"Dagger Actual, no sign of the target. Will continue to monitor the area," Nicholas responded.
"Right, keep a close eye. Dagger Actual out."
The major made his way to one of the campfires and settled down, opening his rucksack and taking out two MRPs that he requisitioned from Support Company. As he opened the packs and pulled out their contents, Louise walked up to Julius and watched as Julius set about preparing food for the two of them.
As he waited for the rations to heat up, he surveyed the men clustered around more than a dozen campfires and checked in with the recon element inside the target area, with no results so far. With a frustrated grunt, he stared off into the distance in Charleroi's direction.
Charleroi, Day 2, 1904 hours
After spending another day searching for their target, the rest of the recon element rendezvoused with Delta 1-1 and Delta 2-1 at Julius's orders. With Charlie 1-1 and 2-1 occupying one side of the building and Delta 1-1 and 2-1 on the other, they had a perfect view of anyone entering and leaving the tavern. The noise level within the room gave the fireteams from Charlie and Delta the opportunity to debrief without attracting too much attention.
As Delta 2-1 was about to order, the tavern's door suddenly opened, admitting a portly man dressed in green britches and a similarly colored tunic with yellow facings, resplendent with a red cape. Behind him were six uniformed men, who wielded clubs. The occupants fell silent and scowled at the new arrivals.
The tavern's owner, a crossdressing man named Scarron, approached the man.
"Lord Chillan, what a surprise! Welcome to the Charming Fairies Inn!" the owner gushed.
The recon element tensed upon hearing Scarron speak, and prepared to spring into action.
The man leered at the occupants inside. "Looks like business is slow today, hmm?" he growled menacingly.
Scarron laughed nervously. "Well, I'm afraid that's not the case for tonight; you see, this tavern is usually empty that you could hear a pin drop to the ground!"
Chillan laughed like a shark smelling blood. "Come now, Scarron, my men and I are only here as customers for the night. Surely you could spare a few tables for us, couldn't you?"
Scarron let out another nervous chuckle. "Well, milord, you see, that's the problem. All tables are fully booked."
"Delta 1-1 to all call signs, be advised, we may have found our target," Nicholas urgently whispered into his mic.
"Dagger Actual to all recon elements, stand by, wait for him to make a move," Julius responded.
Glaring at the now-identified noble, Nicholas beckoned a maid to their table. "Dagger Actual, solid copy. 1-1 out."
The team leader, upon seeing the maid reach their table, motioned for her to lean towards him.
"Is he a noble? Who is he?" Nicholas asked.
The maid glared at the noble. "He's Chillan de Marmont, the queen's tax collector in Charleroi. Any merchant who goes up against him gets heavily taxed, so no one here has the heart to rise up against him. He follows you around and never leaves any tip at every establishment he goes to. Not a single employee is willing to serve him, they only do so out of fear," she hissed, anger evident in her voice.
Nicholas just chuckled. "I'll be the judge of that," he said, turning to Chillan. The noble appeared to be enjoying himself.
"Are you sure that all tables are booked?" the fat noble sneered, before snapping his fingers.
Immediately, one of his guards moved into action. "Out! Everyone out!" he barked.
Slowly, the customers got up from their seats and shuffled outside, except for sixteen cloaked men. The lead guard, upon seeing this, motioned the other guards to evict them from their tables.
Nicholas quickly keyed his mic. "Delta 1-1 to Dagger, target has made his move and is evicting civilians from the tavern. Permission to go loud."
"1-1, you're cleared hot. Go, go!" Julius immediately responded.
The recon element, seeing the guards approach, immediately stood up and threw off their cloaks, revealing their Multi-Terrain Pattern uniforms and their rifles, which they aimed at Chillan and his guards.
"Hands up! On your knees, don't move!" Nicholas yelled. The other customers, upon hearing the team leader speak, peered inside and were surprised to see several strangely dressed men holding unusual muskets.
Chillan, initially surprised, recovered and directed his anger at the recon element.
"A bunch of worthless peasants defying me? You must be out of your mind! Who are you to be so foolish as to have the nerve to go up against me?!" he raved.
Nicholas let go of his rifle, withdrew the permit from his pocket, and unrolled it for Chillan to see.
The noble let out a gasp, and Nicholas quickly rolled the permit and replaced it in his pocket before aiming his rifle at the tax collector.
"I said on your knees, drop your weapons and get down!" he bellowed.
Chillan motioned for his men to obey and dropped on his knees. Immediately, the rest of the recon element dragged the guards before dumping them in front of the tax collector.
Donovan roughly pushed Chillan to the ground and bound his hands behind him with zip ties before he and Damon dragged the noble out of the tavern. The remaining members of the recon element followed outside except for Nicholas and Delta 2's team leader. With the guards lined up before them, both men raised their rifles and emptied their magazines into the helpless guards.
Nicholas turned to Scarron, who held an expression of shock the whole time the British confronted Chillan. He took out the coin pouch and held it out to the tavern's owner.
"My apologies, sir, but I just can't stand by and do nothing while this happens," he said.
Nodding dumbly, Scarron took the money before collapsing to his knees, and the maids rushed to his aid. One of the maids turned to the 1-1's team leader.
"W-we saw and heard nothing, that's how it g-goes at the Charming Fairies Inn," she stammered.
Nicholas turned away and keyed his mic. "Dagger Actual, package secured, preparing for exfil." He glanced at the crowd outside and raised his hand to reassure them.
"Delta 1-1, Dagger copies all. Rendezvous at the outskirts of the city, out."
With that, Nicholas stepped out of the tavern and motioned to the rest of the recon element to move out.
Tristania, 0032 hours
Fouquet sat in her cell somewhere in southeastern Tristania. Unable to sleep, she had been brooding for hours about the failed attempt to steal the Staff of Destruction. She was broken out of her thoughts when the cell door opened and a figure entered, causing her to look up at whoever it was.
"It's already late at night, what do you want?" she snapped.
The figure chuckled before speaking. "Don't worry, I've come to get a comrade out of this place. How have you been, Fouquet? Or should I say, Matilda de Saxe-Coburg and Gotha?"
Fouquet lost the ability to speak for a moment before she finally regained it. "You're… it can't be."