Chapter 19
Getting into Imperial (formerly French) Congo didn't take too much effort. As I had suspected, magic detection only really existed in the area around the main urban centers. I verified this when we picked out a spot from hundreds of kilometers of jungle coast and flew ashore. If there had been any kind of detection system, either aircraft or mages would have been sent out to investigate our presence. Yet, after over an hour spent hiding in the brush, we saw not a sign of the local military.
Confident that no one had detected our presence, I led my team along the coast to Congo's biggest port city, Point Noir. Along the way we perfected our disguises. I had briefly toyed with trying to pass ourselves off as natives before immediately dismissing the idea. The more complex an illusion the more power and concentration it took and the easier it was to sense. Since Visha had confirmed that Congo aerial security was being seen to by former members of the 203rd, we couldn't take any chances.
During the two-week trip to get here I'd drilled them mercilessly on using civilian orbs to maintain an illusion that couldn't be detected unless a mage was literally on top of you. These illusions were used to make subtle changes to our faces to make us unrecognizable, but otherwise we relied on haircuts and cosmetics to maintain our disguises. I, for example, put my hair in a pixie cut and dyed it black, and changed my eyes to a dull green. Visha actually changed her own features to match mine so we could pass ourselves off as sisters. The others took similar steps.
Of course, once we got to Point Noir, the question became what to do next. We couldn't stay there, it was far too well policed for my taste, with a platoon of mages on patrol. Fortunately, there was no need for us to maintain a presence in the port. I'd initially planned to have Norris instruct Becker and Royce to join me in Africa, but on reflection I realized their arrival in the Congo might as well paint a red flag for anyone looking for me. Instead, I'd left sealed instructions for them and any other members of the 203rd to either join Velvet Iron, or head to London and join up with Tilbury Security. I figured people had to be tracking the movements of the former 203rd after the chaos Visha unleashed in Colombia, so let my pursuers waste time investigating companies that I planned to have no further active involvement in. Only Lena could confirm my true identity, and after so long working together I trusted her to keep her mouth shut.
As for those of us who were already in Africa, I decided it was time for a vacation. It was strange to admit, but sometime in the past year, I'd joined the ranks of the moderately rich. And what do rich white people in Africa do in the 1920s? Why, they go hunting! While I myself only saw it as a useful cover, having no particular interest in endangering the local wildlife, Koenig and the boys all seemed excited at the thought of bagging themselves some big game. I pointed out how they couldn't possibly keep any trophies. Ernest pointed out that ivory, at least, had a ready and valuable market. I snarked back that if they really were going to be collecting ivory for cash, then they wouldn't mind me putting them on half-pay, seeing as how we were on vacation and everything.
I should have known better. With the exception of Visha, my entire team accepted the challenge, declaring that they could easily make up for lost pay with the spoils of the hunt. I even tried warning them that ivory in Africa sold for only a tiny fraction of what it would eventually fetch in Europe or America, which meant they'd have to hunt down a small herd each month to make up the loss. This only seemed to spur them on to greater heights of enthusiasm. Vogel declared loudly that no pachyderm on the continent would be safe. I decided not to reply that that was exactly what I was afraid of. I could already feel the anger of a hundred million 21st century animal-lovers reaching out across time and space to strike me down. I mentally told them to get in line. The extinction of the African elephant was a small price to pay to keep my little pack of manic myrmidons happy.
All exaggeration aside, I didn't actually except them to make too much of a dent in the elephant population. While I'd taken the opportunity to put them through some jungle warfare training in Colombia, South America is not Africa, and they were ultimately aerial mages. Even with magical aid, stalking big game was never going to be a specialty of theirs. Especially when I refused to hire hunting experts to guide us. While hiring a few natives as porters was inevitable, the big game experts were almost all white gentlemen and including one of those in our party was an unacceptable security risk. This meant the idiots would have to find, shoot, and harvest the animals using only native help and their military training. Not that ramping up the difficulty seemed to deter them.
One good thing to this silly self-appointed challenge of theirs, my team basically took over the entire planning for the expedition. I could relax and nap in the heat with Visha's coffee by my elbow while they ran around getting everything ready. With Koenig in charge, the whole thing was arranged with commendable efficiency. Maps were drawn, routes decided, porters hired, tents and supplies gathered, and essential sundries like medicines and mosquito nets acquired. There were even some books and interviews with experts on the best ways to kill an elephant. I paid for most of it without demur, but I did draw the line at a load of high-caliber Mauser hunting rifles. Our Winchesters Model 15s were perfectly adequate for almost anything the African jungle could throw at us. And if they did need a little bit of extra oomph to bring down an elephant? Well, that's what magic was for. There was some grumbling but I shut it down by calling it extra training - how to apply an adequate penetration effect while using a civilian-grade orb.
Besides, while it might have its limits as a big game gun, the semi-automatic Winchesters were excellent tools for hunting the only game that concerned me, the most dangerous game of all. Pursuant to this philosophy, our group also had two Thompson submachine guns, even though I hoped they would stay in their wrappings for the entire trip.
It was in late June that we departed for the depths of the Congo interior. We were well-armed, well-supplied, and with a reason to go around armed to the teeth that no one could question. I figured I could spend months hiding out in the interior without raising a single eyebrow. By the time this safari was over, either the attention would have faded or a war would have started, and either way I'd have a good chance of vanishing into the woodwork.
June 3, 1928, Amstredam, The Empire
"Your Highness, there is no need for you to be here personally," General Richthoffer said. "The men know their duty."
"And that is why I must be here, so they know the Crown appreciates the risk they are about to take," replied the Imperial Crown Prince Friedrich Wilhelm. "It is a lack of gratitude that precipitated this crisis, let us not make the same mistake again."
The General carefully hid the wince at the indirect criticism of the reigning Emperor. While concealed from the public, it was known at the higher levels that the Crown Prince had been strongly opposed to the eventual settlement of the war. His had been one of the voices calling for outright annexation of Francois and Legadonia, while using the threat of Major Degurechaff as a stick to wave at the other powers.
It was somewhat recently that the Kaiser and his son achieved something of a rapport, as they were now in agreement that steps needed to be taken to bring Degurechaff to heel. As long as there had been no clear clue as to her whereabouts, there had been little the Empire could do besides support Interpol. Now that it was clear that Degurechaff was not only selling her expertise to the Americans but also rebuilding her own mage company using the disaffected members of the former 203rd, it was decided the Empire needed to take a direct hand in the matter.
It was a shame, mused the General, that instead of taking a more diplomatic route, the Crown insisted on capturing or killing the renegade. As the newly minted Chief of Air Operations it was Richthoffer's job to reach that dubiously achievable goal. Still, orders were orders, and he was a soldier, so he did his best to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.
The two men entered a small room where six aerial mages waited, their unit badges indicating the 207th Aerial Mage battalion. The men went ramrod straight as they realized they were in the presence of royalty. "Your Highness!" greeted their leader, his rank tabs denoting him as Captain.
"At ease, gentlemen," replied the Crown Prince, drawing up every bit of royal gravitas. "Before your general gives you your final orders, I am here to speak a few words on behalf of the Crown. First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for volunteering for this extremely dangerous and thankless task. I know there are many, even among your comrades, that look upon Degurechaff as a hero of the Empire. And they are not entirely wrong. Once upon a time, she was one of our greatest heroes. But now, if she is a hero, then she is without doubt a fallen one. I will not pretend the estrangement between her and the Empire was entirely one-sided. But whatever may have come before, the fact remains Tanya von Degurechaff now represents a threat to our nation's security. She is the only person in the world to have ever successfully used a quad-core computational jewel, to often devastating effect. Now, we have learned that she has been working closely with foreign nations to develop combat orbs of her own. Undoubtedly her ultimate goal is to recreate the Type 95, and restore to herself the ability to destroy armies at will. Even worse, she has been recruiting her own private army, to what purpose we can only imagine. Gentlemen, it is now a fact that she is not just a threat to the Fatherland, but to the stability of the world as a whole! The nation has called upon you in this dark hour, and you have answered! You are the heroes today, gentlemen! And I salute you!"
Suiting word to deed, the Crown Prince saluted the men, getting back a salute in response. After which, the prince stepped back and General Richthoffer stepped forward. "All right men," said the General. "You've had time to study the briefing materials. Remember that the Empire doesn't have a diplomatic presence in Colombia, so once you sneak off the ship you're on your own. We know Degurechaff is disguising herself either through magic or surgery. But one thing she can't hide is her companions. You've all had the chance to study the profiles of the former members of the 203rd Mage Battalion. Degurechaff likes to surround herself with her old subordinates, so that's your clue. In order to help you find them, the boys in Elenium Labs came up with a portable magic scanner. Not as wide a range as a full installation, but it should still pick up all active magic use within about 50 kilometers."
Richthoffer took a moment to see if any of the men had questions, then continued. "Once you find her, your orders are simple. You are to capture her if possible, kill her if not. We would greatly prefer it if you could capture her and bring her home, but the woman is simply too dangerous to be allowed to run free. Once you have completed your mission, or you have spent six months without locating her, your exfiltration will be by ship. You have a list of sailing dates for friendly vessels leaving Colombia. If you need to leave in a hurry, then all of you have enough power to make the crossing to Morocco. In an emergency, you may fly to our embassy in Mexico City, but that should be a last resort."
After the next pause, the General's took on a darker tone. "Given the danger of your target, all of you have been authorized to carry Elenium Type 97s for this mission. Men, you need to guard those orbs with your very life! They represent the Empire's single greatest advantage in magical combat. Should you be captured, we shall try our utmost to secure your release. But under no circumstances should a Type 97 be taken intact. Are there any questions?"
There were none. "Very well, gentlemen. Your boat leaves in two hours. Goodbye, good luck, and god speed."
June 10, 1928, Cartagena, Colombia
Mary Sioux couldn't help but glare at her boss as they both landed after another hard afternoon of flight training. Charles Norris still looked relatively fresh while she was utterly exhausted - which should be impossible seeing as how Mary literally had three times as much magic as him! Of course, over the last month she'd become painfully aware just how far her US Naval Mage training fell short of the standards of someone like Tanya von Degurechaff.
First there had been the two weeks of 'basic training' at Velvet Iron Protection's New York office, which had seen her placed under the cruel tutelage of Joe Barrow. Mary couldn't believe the transformation that come over the open friendly man the minute the training started. He literally beat the principles of magic-reinforced hand-to-hand combat into her. All her magic power didn't help her a bit, in fact it only made it more difficult for her to strengthen herself without burning out the civilian-grade orb she was forced to use.
When her basic training was finally over and she was sent to Colombia, she was relieved to finally have the chance to confront the target of her search. Only when she got there, Jennifer Ecks was gone, as was every other member of the Imperial 203rd. Instead all that awaited her was more training, this time using a proper flight orb. She'd originally expected to breeze through this portion of the training. Instead what had followed was a solid week of steady humiliation as a boy less than a year older than her - and one who had been undergoing aerial mage training for only a few months - repeatedly ran rings around her in midair.
Not that the training wasn't useful. She was learning a lot. If this was the results of training under the Devil of the Rhine, she could see why her battalion had achieved the notoriety it had. Far from giving her an advantage, she was having to unlearn a large portion of her lessons from Naval Mage training as they were prove less than adequate. It chafed her soul to have to learn the lessons taught by Degurechaff, but learn them she did. Somewhere along the line her pride as an aerial mage had been kindled, and she refused to let herself fall below the standards set by that Imperial witch.
After they landed, Charles turned to her with a genuine smile. "Good going there Madelaine. You almost managed to tag me today."
"Ah, thank you sir."
"Don't sir me, I keep looking around for Commander Ecks. I wish she was here though. With power like yours, you really need someone on her level to train you."
"You're doing a good job running me into the ground," muttered Mary ruefully. "And you really don't know where she disappeared to?"
"No. All she would say was that it was all a secret and only combat vets were invited. Must be some kind of really dangerous job. Maybe they're going to take down a government?" Mary rolled her eyes at the amused note in Charles' voice.
When Mary had first arrived, she'd carefully tried to probe and see just how loyal Norris was to Degurechaff. After all, he was an American citizen, he shouldn't share the same fanatical devotion as her Imperial subordinates. His response, which basically amounted to 'Who's Degurechaff?', had thrown her for a loop.
It turned out Norris had initially signed up with Velvet Iron for a steady paycheck. Later, he fell in love with flying and couldn't see himself doing anything else, but he neither knew nor cared about the goings on in Europe. Norris only seemed to care that the pay was good and he was not asked to participate in anything obviously criminal himself. As such, he neither knew nor did he want to know what Ecks and company might be up to, on the grounds that what he didn't know couldn't make him an accessory.
Perhaps the most annoying thing about him was that in spite of his horribly mercenary mindset, Mary couldn't help but like him. His cheerful friendliness, good work ethic, and open enthusiasm for his work as an aerial mage all struck a chord with her. She felt sure he would have made a fine addition to the US military, and promised to herself to try and recruit him once her assignment here was done.
As the headed back into the city, Charles spoke up again. "You know, they might not be to the standard of Commander Ecks, but there are a couple of experienced mages who've shown willingness to train the both of us. Interested?"
"What, really?" Mary's eyes narrowed. "Wait is that why you insisted on coming to Cartagena?"
"Yep. I was actually scouting for some prospective employees. They're both veteran mages. They haven't yet made up their minds about joining, but they seemed willing to stick around for at least a little bit as trainers."
Mary immediately had a suspicion of who these 'veteran mages' might be. Sure enough, sitting at an outdoor cafe were two men whose pictures she recognized from her study of the 203rd. Klaus von Becker and William Royce. One the son of old Prussian money, the other the son of an Albish expatriate. Could they be my lead to finding Degurechaff? Charles said they might not join. Is it possible they know where Degurechaff is and are planning to go there themselves? I can't imagine them coming all the way here for any other reason.
It was perhaps because she was on high alert, but the four of them had barely exchanged greetings when Mary started getting the feeling that something was very wrong. Pushing out of her seat, she started looking up and down the street. Charles looked up at her. "Maddy, is something wrong?"
"Can't you feel it?" Mary hissed, turning to glare at the two veterans. "There is definitely something off about these two."
That's when the two mages fizzled and vanished into thin air and a voice spoke from within the cafe in thickly accented Albish, "You were right, boy. This one does have talent."
Emerging from behind the doorway were the same two mages she thought she had been speaking to. "Illusions? What's the big idea?" growled Mary, even as she began to unconsciously power up her orb.
Becker raised a calming hand. "Easy there Fraulein. Just a little test. If we are to be training you, best we know where you are at, ja?"
Charles was nodding along. "Madelaine is very talented. She's been doing this only for a few weeks, and she's already picked up how to fly."
"Well, we shall see. We have some months we can spare. Got mit uns, you two might be not entirely useless by the time we are done."
July 16, 1928, somewhere on the Congo River
It was a little over three weeks into our African safari. Our little expedition had taken wide detours into the hinterland, but had generally followed the course of the river that gave this land its name. We were now coming back to the river to take a rest stop at a trading post that was supposed to be there, and I was glad when we finally found it.
Not because I wasn't enjoying the tour. In spite of the heat and the insects and the thick jungle, the sheer freedom that came with being somewhere no one in authority could possibly recognize me was intoxicating. While I still maintained my disguise near our native porters, the long walks that I took accompanied only with members of my battalion gave me the chance to drop the disguise and let my real face enjoy the sun. No, the reason I was glad to see this trading post was because of the large quantity of ivory that had slowed down the expedition to a crawl.
When we had first started out, it was as I expected. Locating elephants proved far more challenging than killing them, and even with the help of local guides my inexperienced companions only enjoyed the occasional success. Then just a couple of days back we'd heard rumors of a massive herd that was denuding a village of its crops. There must have been thirty of the beasts. Even with me preventing them from killing the calves - and Visha persuading them to leave enough adults alive to look after the children - my companions downed eighteen adults and drove off the rest. Even with hiring extra porters from the village, hauling around over a metric ton of ivory got old real fast.
Finally, we came to the trading post. It actually looked a surprisingly pleasant place. It had a proper dock instead of a makeshift pier, and the structure was more of a fortified villa than the usual hardscrabble outpost. Even the jungle had been cut back quite a bit to give way to a small vegetable garden and fruit orchard. Some considerable effort had clearly gone into making the place livable.
After the porters had been paid off Visha and the others went in to haggle over prices. I myself had the camp set up and my lawn chair pulled out so I could kick back and enjoy the afternoon sun, since I anticipated the bargaining to take a while. From what I knew, the Imperial African Trading Company, which had a virtual monopoly on the trade of ivory and other forest products, operated on a fixed price system. They had a price they would pay for certain goods, and the local trading post owners would acquire the goods at whatever price they could and pocket the difference as their fee. Of course, out of this fee the trader had to pay for maintaining his outpost, getting supplies, hiring labor, and all the rest of it. As a result, it was in the trader's interest to gouge his suppliers as far as humanly possible.
For the local tribes, this meant instead of being paid in cold hard cash, the trader would often pay them in tools, alcohol, cloth, and other products of civilization - at exchange rates far above market price. And even for white folk like ourselves who wouldn't be fobbed off with beads or booze, the local traders would invariably fight over every mark and pfennig. Given the sheer quantity of ivory we had hauled in, the verbal jousting would be epic.
Indeed, I'd actually had time to take a nap, and the sun was beginning to set by the time Visha approached me. She even came bearing a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Alas, even as I took a delicious sip, I could tell I was not going to enjoy it as much as I usually did. Visha had a particular way she was fidgeting - the pose she adopted when she had done something foolish but was going to insist on being stubborn about it. Like her habit of gambling her wages for extra supplies for the battalion.
"All right, Visha, out with it. What has gone wrong this time?"
The story immediately came tumbling about. It seems in the course of bargaining she'd managed to somehow get the trading post owner's life story out of him. He'd been part of the first wave of Imperial entrepreneurs after the French had been kicked out of the territory. He'd apparently sunk most of his savings into this place, planning to make a life here with his family. However, in the very first year, both of his children had fallen terribly sick from some variety of jungle fever. Only rapid evacuation to the nearest city had preserved their lives. That particular scare had soured him on the whole deal, and to make matters worse he had started getting sick himself, affecting his work. Now he was stuck here alone while his family stayed in the city. The expense of maintaining two domiciles was eating away his profits, there was nothing he wished for more than to move back to the Empire but he lacked the money to do so - it was at this point I put up a hand to stop the flow of words. "Let me guess, you swallowed that sob story whole and agreed to give him the entire load for almost nothing?"
"Um... well...no...I may have agreed to buy his trading post."
I paused for a moment, before taking a long sip, then putting my cup aside and focusing on her. "I see. And how much is he asking?"
"I managed to negotiate him down to 90,000 marks. And if we close the deal soon, we can sell our entire load directly to the company. That's over 60,000 marks right there!"
"Except that 60,000 doesn't belong to either of us. It belongs to Koenig, Walther, Teyanen, Ernest, and Vogel. That was the deal."
"Ah, I spoke to them, and they're willing to take half. So really, we'll be paying less than 60,000 for the place - "
"Where's this 'we' coming from?" I interrupted. "Unless you've come into some sort of inheritance lately, I'll be the one shelling out 60,000 marks."
"Ah, yes, well, either way, even with the added expense of running the place, you should be able to get your money back in three or four months! And, well, you were planning to hide out here for a while..."
"Visha, the mark of a good investment isn't whether you get your money back or not, its how much profit you make afterward. Besides, what possessed you to think I had any interest in wasting my vacation running a trading outpost?"
"Please, ma'am? The man really needs help..."
Great, now she was giving me the puppy dog eyes. Considering how it was not at all infeasible to earn back my investment in short order, I was on the verge of agreeing. Yet, at the last moment, I felt the slightest tinge of resentment. Perhaps I was still upset about my forced relocation from Colombia, because all I could think was that this was the second time in a few months Visha's unilateral actions had forced me into doing something I didn't want to do.
"Perhaps," I replied, "If you want to perform acts of charity, you ought to take responsibility yourself instead of shoving it onto others?"
"Oh, you want me to run the outpost instead?"
"I want you to buy the outpost, run it, and show a profit. I'll loan you the money. And you have exactly six months to pay me back. Or else."
"Or... or else?"
I gave her my sweetest smile. "I'll write up an agreement."
Later that evening saw Visha and me in our shared tent, looking over the paper I'd written out.
"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Visha. "It says here you're charging me interest at 2% a month! That's 24% a year!"
"Welcome to the world of monopolies, Visha. The Imperial African Trading Company has a monopoly on the ivory trade, so they set the price. I have a monopoly on cash reserves, so I get to set the interest rate."
"But..."
"Besides, what are you worried about? You said you can cover the debt in three months. What's a few extra thousand on top of that?"
"It's still too mean..."
"You know what's meaner? Me upping the rate by another percent if you don't stop whining and sign it in the next five minutes." I gave her a small glare to emphasize my words.
To her credit, she still tried to use the few minutes to peruse the rest of the document.
"So... basically... if I fall short on paying you back, for every two thousand marks I am short by, I have to spend a year working off my debt?" asked Visha in a dubious tone.
"Basically," I agreed. "You don't get paid since I'll be covering all your daily needs, and you'll have to do any work as long as it's not dangerous. Oh, and two minutes left."
She chewed over this a bit. "So, sort of like an unpaid adjutant?" Visha asked with a slight smile.
"Sort of. One minute."
"All right, all right, here," she said, handing over the signed document.
"A pleasure doing business with you Visha," I replied, handing over a check for 60,000 marks.
She groused a bit more, but I could tell she was pleased at this opportunity to stretch her wings. After all, I was ceding control of the entire company to her, since the rest of my troops had heard of our wager and had agreed to help Visha out as long as they got to keep half the sales.
The next morning, as they all got to work with the current owner setting up the transfer and preparing the ivory for transport, I took our smartest, best spoken native guide with me and bade them all farewell.
"Where are you going, Major?" asked Koenig.
"I keep telling you, it's either ma'am or Tanya. And since I have no interest in watching you lot play hunter-gatherer, I'm going to continue this little safari on my own."
"All by yourself? Ma'am..."
"Are you suggesting I am incapable?" My offended glare choked off any response. Rolling my eyes, I continued, "I'm not going that far, only around the nearby areas. I'll be within communication spell range, and I'll check in in person every two weeks."
"Ah, all right. Be careful, ma'am."
After the various goodbyes were made, I headed on my way. As I walked away, I couldn't help the broad grin stretching across my face. Ah, poor, sweet, naive Visha. Was it cruel, what I planned to do to her? Perhaps. But after all the trouble she'd caused me recently, I felt I owed her a good, sharp shock. True, what I was about to do might end up costing me tens of thousands, but I could afford it, and I felt it worth the price for a spot of vengeance.
I knew that Visha's calculations were wildly optimistic. First, she was assuming Koenig and the others would be able to bring in ivory at a rate comparable to what they had achieved this month, when the herd we'd come across was the very definition of 'windfall'. Second, the income figures the previous owner had been quoting was predicated on paying the hunters a pittance, not the 50% Visha had agreed on with the others. In spite of all that, considering what I knew of her efficiency and work ethic, it was entirely possible Visha would still be able to pay off her debt within the six months.
Well, she would have, if it wasn't for what I was about to do next. Turning my grin on the nervous looking guide, I addressed him in his preferred French, "Henry, your task now is to introduce me to all the elephant hunters in the area."