In his eyes there was the gleam of a very small man suddenly holding a very large weapon in his hands. – Terry Pratchett, Jingo
Ài – [愛 – love] (whether spoken by Xiùlán or Samantha, the meaning is 'Luv')]
Arc – Alliance military slang for Arcturus Station
ȼ – Written shorthand for 'credit' – former 20th & 21st century shorthand for 'cent', as in 'dollars and cents'
Inamorata – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)
Kaffe – equatorial Thessian vine, the seeds of which are used to produce a non-alcoholic beverage of the same name,
· · · · · · ·the taste described as a mix of coffee and chocolate. (Thessian/Source: CDN)
Ø7 – An allegedly discontinued vocational code in the Systems Alliance military.
· · · · ·The Ø designates covert operations; the 7 refers to the highest level of proficiency.
OMPF – Official Military Personnel File. Administrative record, containing information about the subject's service
· · · · · · · history, such as: date/type of enlistment/appointment; duty stations and assignments; training, etc.
Qíngfū or Qíngrén – [情夫 – lover]
Qīzi – [妻子 – wife]
• CHARLIE WARD, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM, SERPENT NEBULA •
⸰ Thursday Evening, 3 August 2220-CE ⸰
Jason Joesiar, having received confirmation that his newly established bank account had received the credits promised him by his uncle, was currently prowling the foundations of the Citadel's Charlie Ward in an attempt to locate a second-hand arms dealer. He was hell-bent on exacting revenge on one of the bitches that had screwed him over more than three decades ago … the hateful Marine Corp general that had drop-kicked him out of the Navy. If he had the opportunity, he would also kill the slanty-eyed chink-bitch that had incapacitated and captured him during his attempt to take back property that rightfully belonged to him. The end result of this unrelenting and unwarranted persecution had seen him sitting in a cramped prison cell for over thirty years.
Standing in the shadows cast by a warehouse, he carefully looked left and right along the narrow passage in front of him. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched, but had never seen anyone that looked out of place or that was taking any obvious interest in what he was doing.
He finally strolled down the alleyway a few hundred meters, coming to a stop in front of a dingy storefront with a faded sign above the door, Rosemont and Tatum's Pawn Shop. The proprietor's names sounded vaguely familiar to him, but try as he might, he couldn't place them.
After taking another quick look around, he opened the door and stepped inside. He heard a bell—clearly in response to his entry—faintly sounding from somewhere in the back of the dimly lit store. Running the length of the room front-to-back were a pair of very old, extremely dusty glass-fronted display cases, placed on either side of a narrow aisle. Closing the door, he waited the few moments it took his eyes to adjust to the gloomy interior, then began strolling towards the back of the place. A man came out of a back room; moving past a dingy curtain covering an otherwise open doorway, he quietly inquired, "May I help you?"
Joesiar looked the fellow over carefully. He was rail-thin, with a scraggly, unkempt beard and wisps of grey hair sticking haphazardly out of the sides of his mostly bald head. Getting right to the point, Joesiar replied, "Yeah. I'm a-lookin' fer a long gun … need somethin' what's accurate out to 1800, 1900 meters. Was told ya might have somethin' like that in stock?"
Rosemont—for that was this man's name—looked intently at Joesiar as he responded. "Actually, I do have one … an M-98a Black Widow. It dates back to just after the war, but it's reliable, packs one 'elluva punch, and is spot on accurate."
While he attempted to display no interest in buying it, Joesiar still asked, "How much?" The reply he received caused his heart to sink into his boots.
"New? Basic model retails for just shy of a quarter-million creds."
"That's an awful small fortune, man. It's nahwt new. Bottom line, what'll y'all take fer it?"
"It has all the upgrades and mods – sockets for spare thermal clips, an extended barrel for better accuracy, boosted kinetic coil generators, and an enhanced scope. Built in, folding bi-pod legs to steady it, recoil compensators to protect your shoulder. Some of the heavier parts have even been replaced with ultra-light materials to cut down on its weight." He shook his head in apparent awe as he concluded, "I need to make back my cost on the thing; it's been gathering dust ever since my late, lamented partner took it in as collateral for a gambling debt. 117,500 credits, and it's yours."
"Still an awful small fortune." Thinking about his nearly overwhelming desire to take that general's head off her shoulders, he asked, "Can Ay see it? Maybe try it out?"
"Sorry. Weapons for sale are continuously monitored by C-Sec, with an RF-chip bonded to the stock. Can't remove the damned thing until it sells." He picked up and activated a datapad, scrolled through several pages, then handed it to Joesiar. "Hi-rez photos, including a vid showing it in operation. It's a pretty awesome rifle."
Jason sighed as he took the datapad. Looking at the photos, and especially the vid, impressed him, but 117,500 creds would break his bank, leaving him nothing on which to live until October.
As for Rosemont, he studied Joesiar as Jason was studying the rifle's stats on the datapad. He had a niggling feeling he knew this fellow from somewhere, but try as he might, he couldn't put a name with the face.
With a disheartened sigh, Joesiar handed the datapad back to Rosemont. "Tha's a really sweet gun. Inny way yew kin come down on thuh price a bit? … say, maybe ta one fifteen?"
Rosemont crossed his arms across his chest and shook his head. "Truthfully, my cost in this gun really is 117,500 credits." After several moments of quiet thought, he looked straight at Joesiar and countered, "116,000. I'll be losing 1500 on the deal, but the market for these old monster-killers really dried up after the war. It'd be nice to have it gone from here."
Jason only had to think about that price for a few moments before saying, "Done. Ah'll make thuh transfer – jus' need yer store ID."
Rosemont produced a small tablet. Handing it to Jason, he turned to walk into the rear of the shop, saying, "All the info is on that device. Transfer the credits while I retrieve your new weapon."
Activating his omnitool, Jason entered the store ID number and authorized the debit from his account; looking at his new balance made his insides hurt, but there was no help for it. The sound of footsteps brought his head around. Rosemont was carrying a long, black case, which he placed on the counter. Releasing the latches, he tilted the lid back so Jason could look at his new rifle.
After confirming the credit transfer, Rosemont pulled a small tool from a utility pocket, which he employed to deactivate and remove the tracker from the stock. Holding it up between finger and thumb, he said, "Wouldn't want C-Sec coming after you." Tossing it in a drawer under the counter, he reclosed the case and held it out for Jason. "I threw in several extra heat sinks. Have fun."
Joesiar grinned like a kid in a candy store. Saying, "Nice doin' business wit'chew." he turned and hurriedly left the pawn shop. Now all he had to do was make the trip to Earth in plenty of time to find a good place to set up a sniper nest. Might be a bit difficult to book passage with his depleted bank account, but he would make it there somehow.
• CHARLIE WARD, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM, SERPENT NEBULA •
⸰ Monday Morning, 7 August 2220-CE ⸰
A statuesque woman wearing a long, hooded cloak quietly entered Rosemont and Tatum's Pawn Shop and strolled towards the counter near the rear wall of the claustrophobic space. A rail-thin man sporting a dirty looking, scraggly beard, with wispy bits of stringy grey hair on the sides of his mostly bald head, approached from behind a dingy curtain covering an otherwise open doorway to ask, "How may I assist you today?" Having to tilt his head back in order to look at her face, the man inspected her closely as he spoke, noticing a pair of intense hazel eyes and a lightly freckled, olive-toned complexion as he waited for her response.
Gloved hands brought up a datapad and turned it for the man to view; it was displaying a still image from what appeared to be a C-Sec surveillance camera. In a lightly accented voice betraying her Italian heritage, Irmina DiCaprio said, "I believe you will recognize the man in the picture, as you sold him a heavy rifle last Thursday evening. I need to know what kind of gun he purchased."
Rosemont looked intently at the slightly grainy photo. Although he recognized the face in the photo, he replied with a lie, hoping to convince her of his sincerity. "Not sure. Hard to make out 'is features."
Mina chuckled lightly. "Mister Rosemont, not only do I know he was in here, I also know he paid you a hundred sixteen large for that heavy rifle. You deactivated and removed the C-Sec RF-chip from the stock before he left with that gun, so I'll ask you again. What kind of gun was it … the make and model, if you please."
"I don't have to tell you a damned thing, lady. If you ain't buying, you can leave."
The woman's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "Not that it's any concern of mine … or of my employer, but you failed to perform due diligence prior to selling that weapon; Jason Joesiar was just released from prison, middle of May … life sentence commuted by the merda per il cervello [Italian: shit-for-brains] human councilor. Regrettably for you, a condition of his release included a prohibition against owning military-grade weapons, of any kind; had you not been so greedy … had you simply obeyed the regulations prohibiting a no-names transfer of a heavy weapon to anyone, you would have learned of that." She saw the instant look of recognition at that name wash across his face.
He whispered, "I knew I had seen him sometime in the past. He was in prison? I didn't know. I always wondered what happened to 'im."
A 500 credit chit appeared in a gloved hand, to be deftly placed on the counter in front of her. Holding it with a fingertip, she explained, "My employer simply needs to know the make and model of the gun you sold to Jason Joesiar, Mister Rosemont. This chit will be your payment for that information."
Looking longingly at the 500 creds she held on the counter, he shifted his gaze back up to the intense hazel eyes of the woman, seemingly looming over him, despite the counter between them. "It was a war era, Alliance manufactured M-98a Black Widow, with all the bells and whistles. Hardly ever fired … damned thing might just as well have been new. I practically gave it to 'im."
"Mighty generous of you to sell it for less than half of what it would cost new."
"So, you gonna report me?"
Shaking her head, DiCaprio replied, "As I said, not my concern." Removing her finger from the credit chit, she said, "Good day to you." and turned to leave. Once outside in the narrow alley, she walked to the nearest elevator in order to return to the surface of the ward; once free of the station's lower structure, she activated her comm-link. "Little bastardo has a Black Widow, Jonathan, with all the accessories you might expect. Better report this to the Broker … no telling who will wind up on the business end of that thing. I'm heading back."
Even though Mina could not see him, Dokken nodded as he responded, "I was afraid of that. I'll contact the Broker immediately. This pawn shop owner, Rosemont? Sounds like he failed to run Joesiar's name through the database. We gonna inform C-Sec?"
"Might be best if the Broker tells them … it'll carry a helluva lot more weight coming from him, rather than one of us. I'll see you in twenty-five or so."
• INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, AT LARGE, SERPENT NEBULA •
⸰ Early Monday Evening, 7 August 2220-CE ⸰
Finished with my financial investigation of Marshtechs Quad Media, I queued up the report for delivery to the CFO of Lionshead Solutions, an investment firm in Milgrom, the capitol city of Bekenstein. I was just about to go into my kitchen to find something to eat for dinner when the comms unit trilled to announce an incoming vid-call. Wanting to have the day done and behind me, I sighed, flopped back down in the chair and keyed the ACCEPT control. Of some surprise, I was greeted by the solemn face of Oriana Lawson. "Ori? Is everything okay. I usually receive bad news from Griff; I would guess by your expression that you're about to deliver his bad news for him."
A teeth-baring grin erupted momentarily before her mouth reset into a firm, straight line. "Well, good to see you too, Sammy. Unfortunately, I am calling with bad news … involves Jay-Jay."
"Joesiar?" She had taken to referring to him by his initials, as if saying his name was distasteful to her. "You have a team shadowing him, don't you? He still on the Citadel?"
"Yeah, but probably not for much longer; Griff believes he's looking for cheap passage to Earth. Sammy, he managed to acquire a heavy rifle … a Black Widow. Bought it from a pawn shop down in the foundations of Charlie Ward … place called Rosemont's and Tatum's."
"Without the owner notifying …? Wait, Rosemont's? … and Tatum's?"
Oriana nodded as she asked, "Those names mean something to you?"
"Hell, yeah! That pair, along with a brainless little dung ball named Hobe, were Joesiar's minions in 2179, right up until he was drop-kicked outta the Navy. Hobe stayed in … last I heard from Xiùlán, he was working as a diplomatic courier, early 2188. Never advanced in rank beyond corporal." I paused for a moment, then added, "No wonder Joesiar went down there."
"Actually," came the rejoinder, "it appears Tatum got himself murdered in 2197, small town near the Pacific coast in southwestern North America. Rosemont is now the sole proprietor of the place; remarkably, he didn't recognize Joesiar—who had apparently forgotten about Rosemont—until Mina provided his name when she showed him a still image captured from a C-Sec surveillance camera." With a humorless chuckle, she concluded, "A 'no-names-asked' transaction for 116,000 creds, Sammy … a transaction the Broker will shortly be reporting to C-Sec."
"Will they take any action or impose some sort of penalty on Rosemont?"
"Mina dropped a 500ȼ chit in order to … persuade him … to describe the gun. After the Shadow Broker places a call to C-Sec Commander Esilaro, I expect Rosemont will be forfeiting an amount considerably north of the selling price after a couple of officers pay him a friendly visit."
I grinned at her as I replied, "Will you place a call to General Park? … tell her about Joesiar? She needs to be warned to beef up security for the change of command ceremony. I'll call Xiùlán."
"Be happy to, Sammy." Oriana waved and cut the connection.
"What's up, Sà mǐ?" Xiùlán's special smile, reserved for me alone, gladdened my heart, even if I was calling to relay bad news.
"I just had a call from the Shadow Broker, wo de ài." [我的愛 - my love] I glanced down at my hands, clenched into fists while resting in my lap; returning my gaze to a beautiful pair of sable-brown eyes, I explained, "Joesiar's planning to deliver a long-range surprise to General Park—probably you as well—during the change-of-command ceremony in October. He's now in possession of a Black Widow, Linn, with all the embellishments you might expect. Probably already practicing."
"How in the? …" she closed her eyes for a moment; when she reopened them, it appeared a fire was now smoldering within them. "Never mind. Is the Broker still monitoring the situation?"
"There's a Broker team keeping tabs on 'im. Xiǎo húndàn [小混蛋 - Little bastard] is looking for cheap passage to Earth." Shaking my head, I added, "His life should have been terminated in 2188. Far as I'm concerned, he's been living on borrowed time ever since. I intend to stop him, Ài … permanently."
"Sà mǐ, bù! Nǐ bùnéng! [薩米,不! 你不能!- Sammy, no! You cannot!] I won't allow it!" My heart clenched upon seeing the pained expression on her face, eerily similar to what she had displayed over thirty years ago when she demanded I cut all ties with the Shadow Broker. "If you were to actually follow through with your threat—if Joesiar were to die by your hand—I would be compelled to have you arrested for murder." She raised both hands imploringly, palms facing me, in an effort to quell my protests before I could give voice to them. "You are a civilian, Sà mǐ! Were you still in the Alliance Navy, or maybe even a member of the local militia or police force, there might be no problem, but without official backing, you'd simply be operating as a vigilante, acting as judge, jury and executioner."
"Wǒ lēi gè qù, [我勒個去 –What the 'ell] Xiùlán? You expect me to simply sit on my hands? … ignore the threat posed by the fuckin' xiǎo húndàn [小混蛋 – little bastard] just because I'm no longer Navy? Are you really okay, living with the very real possibility that you, or God forbid, General Park, could be shot? … killed? … with a high-power AP round? If that's the case, you may just as well kill me the next time you see me, 'cause your preventable death would be the absolute end of me, nǐ míngbái ma!? [你明白嗎 - do you understand!?] I could not continue to live without you!"
"Okay, Sà mǐ. Let's just say you discover where he'll set up to take the shots, and you kill him before he can do so. You want me to have my Qīzi arrested … have her charged with murder one?" She closed her eyes for several moments, then reopened them to refocus on my image and quietly added, "Nà zhēn de huì dǎozhì wǒ zìjǐ de sǐwáng, Sà mǐ." [那真的會導致我自己的死亡 – that would literally lead to my own death, Sammy.]
"No, Xiùlán! That is not going to happen!" I massaged my temples between thumb and fingers for half a minute as I furiously attempted to think of some way to reason with her. Finally dropping my hand, I stared into her eyes for a heartbeat and chuckled, "You are such a damned hard ass, Admiral. You know that, don't you? You would willingly take a bullet through your head or your chest if it meant keeping me on the right side of the law."
"I love you that much, so yes! I would take that bullet! Now, get to work, Sà mǐ …you're the most intelligent person I know. Think of another way! Come up with a plan that keeps your hands clean … and dammit, I don't mean for you to simply hire a gāisǐ de gùyōng bīng [該死的僱傭兵 – damn mercenary] to take him down."
I heaved a sigh while shaking my head. "Jason Joesiar is a boil on civilization's ass, one that needs to be eliminated, dammit!" I resumed massaging my temples as I groaned, "I have to go, Ài … need to lie down and close my eyes for a bit. Hopefully, my headache will go away on its own. Fortunately, we still have a few weeks before the ceremony. I just hope you and the general are taking this threat as seriously as I am. I'll talk to you soon." I cut the connection before she could reply. I was totally drained emotionally, and the headache that had developed during the past 30 minutes felt like it was attempting to remove the top of my skull. I needed to sleep on the problem … think about it with a rested mind come morning.
⸰ Thursday Morning, 10 August 2220-CE ⸰
"She sidelined me, Griff … Xiùlán has forbidden me from personally taking any action against Joesiar during the ceremony in Vancouver, even if it means letting him take a shot at her, or General Park." I took a sip of coffee from my mug as I thought about how completely she had tied my hands. "She even told me I better not hire a merc to take him out."
Griff heaved a heavy sigh. "Your frustration is understandable, Sammy. Tell me how I can help."
"You know I cannot afford to pay the Broker's fees, Griff. That said, will Dokken and his team follow Joesiar to Earth? They caught Savina Delarosa attempting to kill General Park, back in the day … I even still have her sniper rifle. Think they could find and stop Joesiar before he's able to take a shot?"
"No reason to think they couldn't. Savina was a helluva lot smarter than Joesiar will ever hope to be, and they managed to capture her alive. Too bad she died in a failed escape attempt after sticking a push knife in your ass."
I chuckled, "Thanks for that reminder," then shook my head slightly as my frown returned. "I'm not interested in taking him alive, Griff. Dropping him behind his gun—on the off-chance Alliance security fails to discover him in time—would be the best outcome, but only so long as none of them are caught, and I don't catch any blowback because of their actions. It has to look like an Alliance Marine killed 'im before he could take the shot."
"Otherwise, Xiùlán will see it as you having hired a merc team to eliminate him."
"Exactly, although I'm not hiring a team … I'm asking my longtime friend to proactively protect General Park, and Admiral Yuán by extension. Hell, as the admiral's wife, I expect I'll be sitting on the stage beside her. I'm just as likely to be killed as either Xiùlán or RaeLee."
Griff sighed. "I would recommend that all three of you wear heavy armor and shield generators, just in case Dokken's team doesn't get to him in time."
"No problem for me, since I never go dirtside without armor and weapons. Unfortunately, Xiùlán will be wearing dress whites, and RaeLee will be dressed out in blue." I thought about this for a moment. "Actually, RaeLee is still in charge of the facility until Xiùlán assumes command. I'll speak with her next … see if I can convince her the threat is real, maybe find out what precautions she'll can put in place."
"Sounds good, Sammy. We'll continue monitoring Joesiar's movements … let you know what he's doing." He paused for a moment before continuing. "By the way, the Shadow Broker informed C-Sec that Rosemont sold a military-grade rifle to a convicted felon without doing the required due diligence. They'll be paying him a visit before the week is out." He waved at me and cut the connection. No matter the problems I was having, I always felt better after talking to Griff.
I checked local time in Vancouver; it was early evening, so I placed a masked call to General Park's personal comms address. Her expression of guarded suspicion instantly changed to a grin of happy recognition upon seeing my image on her monitor. "Sammy! It's good to see and hear from you. Seems like forever! How have you been?"
"I've been better, RaeLee." I paused a moment before beginning, "I'm calling as a concerned citizen; for Xiùlán's sake, I need to know if you are planning any extra security for the command change ceremony in October." I held up a hand before she could reply, adding, "I know you cannot divulge anything concerning whatever security measures you have in place. That said, I'm fairly sure you recently received a call from the Shadow Broker, informing you of Jason Joesiar's mid-May release from the Arc's high-security prison. Xiùlán's Marines found him and put him on a ship to the Citadel." My frown deepened as I continued, "Thanks to a generous donation by his uncle Brad, he has since purchased a heavy, long-range rifle—an M-98a Black Widow, equipped with all the accessories; miserable little bastard is currently looking to book passage to Earth."
The general's happy expression had gradually disappeared as I spoke. With a frown, she queried, "You expect he'll attempt a double assassination during the ceremony?"
"Maybe even a triple, General. Xiùlán has forbidden me from taking any preemptive action against him … swears she'll have me arrested for murder-one if I kill 'im before he takes a shot, so as Xiùlán's wife, I expect I'll be sitting beside her on the stage, along with the other guests. I'll be just as much of a target as you, or Xiùlán."
"You really think he'd go after all three of us? Sammy, that's just crazy!"
"Joesiar blames me for getting him drop-kicked outta the Navy in 2179, RaeLee … if I'm there, I'll be a target. You presided over the judicial hearing, and signed the authorization to kick 'im outta the Navy. Xiùlán embarrassed him during training on Luna, personally rescued Miranda Lawson from his clutches in the Vancouver city ruins, then foiled several attempts at retaking or killing her afterwards. He's had over three decades to think about payback." I paused a moment before adding, "He's a bloody misogynist, RaeLee … thinks women are only good for one thing, and he absolutely detests women of color … like you and Xiùlán … and me."
She nodded slowly as she thought about everything I had just told her. "Okay, let's suppose your assessment is correct. This facility is fenced, walled, gated, and is fairly isolated, Sammy. Where would he go to attempt this?"
"You remember Savina Delarosa? I believe a portion of the derelict building she was gonna use for her sniper's nest is still standing." Thinking about Joesiar's capabilities, I added, "To scale the section facing the parade grounds, he'd have to use a mass reduction generator—not readily obtainable in the civilian sector, but used ones can be had for the right amount of credits. Once in position, he'd be looking at a difficult shot … not easy to pull off, but certainly not impossible. The rifle he purchased is capable of accurately placing rounds out to 2000 meters." I paused for a couple of moments before concluding, "It's my guess that's where Joesiar will attempt to setup."
"Should be easy enough for some Marines to secure that place, Sammy. I'll see to it at once. Perhaps they can intercept and arrest him."
I pointed out, "He's in possession of a weapon he's prohibited from owning … that's reason enough to detain him, but …" shaking my head, I added, "… he hasn't left the Citadel yet. Scope out the building and make your plans, General. I imagine the Shadow Broker will give us a 'heads-up' once he's on a ship heading for Vancouver. Detaining him as he steps off the ship would be preferable, but I suspect he'll have the gun shipped separately so he doesn't get caught carrying it. Also, probably best to postpone taking any physical measures, for now. If he sees security forces staking that place out, especially so soon before the ceremony, he'll go to ground, try to get at us from another avenue. Maybe you can clandestinely set up some intrusion alarms – possibly place a number of motion sensors and a few IR cameras in the most sensitive spots."
RaeLee's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sounds like good advice, Sammy. I'll begin making plans to deal with the threat. No one's going to be murdered on the last day of my watch, and certainly not on the first day of Xiùlán's." She heaved a sigh and concluded, "Just doesn't seem like we'll ever have any peace, does it?" With a wave, she added, "See you in a few weeks."
I replied, "I agree with you, unfortunately, but I am looking forward to seeing you again. Be safe, General," then signed off.
• INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, AT LARGE, SOL SYSTEM•
⸰ Friday Evening, 25 August 2220-CE ⸰
In the two weeks since I had warned General Park about Joesiar's plan to murder her, or my Qīzi—possibly even both of them—at the change-of-command ceremony planned for Sunday October 15th, Joesiar had managed to make the trip from the Citadel to Vancouver, as confirmed by the Shadow Broker's rapid response team; even now, team members Henri Järvelä and Irmina DiCaprio continued to monitor his actions and movements in the city.
When I paused long enough to think about the entire situation, it just didn't seem possible that a man—having been convicted of a number of serious crimes, for which he had spent over thirty years in prison—would be so hell-bent on taking an action from which there was no exoneration. On the face of it, his purchase—at great expense—of a heavy, long-range rifle was actually not proof of intent; neither was spending nearly his last credit for passage to Earth, even though his destination was Vancouver, BC. I could only surmise Joesiar cared not that he would most likely be apprehended—or possibly even die—as a result of taking a shot at Xiùlán or RaeLee. It appeared his only goal was making them pay—with their lives—for every awful thing that had happened to him after his discharge from the Alliance Navy. That his various misfortunes had been self-inflicted was not something he would ever realize; he steadfastly refused to accept any responsibility for his choices in life, preferring instead to blame anyone and everyone else.
Unfortunately, Alliance personnel were unable to detain him when he stepped off the ship in Vancouver, as he didn't have the rifle—illegal for him to own as a condition of having his sentence commuted—in his possession; it wasn't even on the ship. Henri Järvelä had ferreted out the M98a upon its arrival as cargo on a salarian registered freighter, the evening after Joesiar's arrival; rather than claim the package personally, it had been transferred to a private locker registered to his uncle, General Bradley Joesiar. The general's aide had retrieved it; upon realizing he was being followed, he had managed to lose the tail just long enough to deliver the package to Jason, hiding in the shadows amid numerous piles of concrete rubble in a large, vacant riverfront lot.
After visually inspecting the venue from every angle, I realized the only avenue for a projectile to find anyone on the stage was from above and in front of the platform. A kinetic barrier would be in place as a shield against possible precipitation, but blocking a continuous drizzle from dampening audience members was the limit of its capabilities; there was no practical way to shield the large parade grounds from incoming small-arms fire, much less heavy weapons fire.
I had spent a number of hours modifying a pair of personal shield generators—small enough to be worn on the backside of the belt each officer would be wearing as part of their dress uniforms—for Xiùlán and General Park. By replacing the projector assembly in each with a circuit board capable of generating an asymmetrical field, I expected the power supply of each would be consumed in just under two hours of continuous use, twice as fast as could normally be expected. The ceremony would not last more than forty-five minutes, thus, no one would be sitting or standing in the open unshielded. Still, I worried my improved shield generator would not be sufficient to stop a hypersonic round from passing through personal kinetic barriers and into the bodies of the people I loved.
I discussed my fears with Iringù-Eßizkur as I worked, which prompted her to observe, ›If I am permitted to stand on the ground immediately behind the platform, I can project a kinetic barrier that will protect everyone on the stage.‹
"Wouldn't your barrier be visible to everyone in attendance?"
›That is unfortunately true.‹
"And I don't believe the Alliance will allow you that kind of access to the parade grounds, Irin. Alliance brass would have a cow if the General allowed you to shield us in that manner."
›Perhaps, if I was permitted to float overhead during the ceremonies? I would be able to rapidly pinpoint the source of a weapon fired in the direction of anyone on the stage. I could then use my prime weapon in a tightly focused response to eliminate the threat.‹
I paused what I was doing and asked her to clarify. "… 'Eliminate the threat'? By eliminate, you mean? …"
›Terminate the person responsible for targeting any of the three of you, Friend-Samantha. You must realize I will protect your life, along with the lives of those close to you, from potentially lethal threats. I could not, through inaction, allow anyone to make a second attempt on unarmed individuals.‹
"That would be wonderful, Irin, but that still doesn't prevent that first shot from killing me, Xiùlán or RaeLee Park."
›That being the case, is it not possible for Dokken's team to locate and stop him, before he can discharge his weapon the first time?‹
"It is possible, but unlikely. There are a number of places in that old structure an assassin could hide, especially if camouflaged. And he doesn't have to take a position until just prior to the start of the ceremonies, which will be preceded by a buffet-style brunch. I am sure RaeLee has placed a number of motion detectors and mini-cams inside the structure, and Marines will be patrolling the perimeter before and during the ceremony. I just worry it will not be enough."
›They will not be wearing body armor, such as yours?‹
"Dress uniforms, but …" Thinking about Irin's question and the dress jackets each of them would be wearing sparked an idea. "I need to call the Shadow Broker, Irin." I knew it was late, but decided to place the call to Buchanan's personal comms unit anyway … marking it as 'URGENT' would ensure it would be answered … at least, I hoped it would be answered.
