A\N: This story is now caught up with my main SpaceBattles thread. All versions of this story will now be on the same chapter as SB.
Chapter 28
December 20, 1929, Ila Rouge, Seychelles
It was yet another beautiful day in my little slice of paradise, but I couldn't help but worry. Even as I sat here, Jenny would be bouncing around Reina del Angel with that womanizer John Hughes. The mere thought of that philanderer making eyes at a sixteen year old that I felt responsible for - well, when Lena had written to me about Jenny going to Hollywood for that 'screen test', I almost took off for the Unified States then and there. It was only Visha remarking that I was acting like an overprotective father that let me put matters in perspective. Ultimately, Jenny was not only old enough to start making her own mistakes, but she wasn't actually my daughter. Even Lena's guardianship of her was little more than a legal fiction. It was not my place to control her life.
Besides, Lena had pulled out the big guns and sent both Joe Barrow and Samantha Young as Jenny's chaperones. Short of sending a member of the 203rd, those two were probably my best choices for making sure no one took advantage of her. I had fired back a message telling Lena to also keep a lawyer on standby to sue Hughes into the ground if he dared lead Jenny on with false promises, and to make sure that both Young and Barrow kept their recording spells ready to collect evidence. But even knowing I'd done everything that could be reasonably expected of me, I was still concerned. Jenny knew a lot of my secrets, and teenagers were not known for good decision-making.
Sadly, Jenny was not the only person causing me anxiety. It had been six weeks since Emilie had left for the Gold Coast with that false king. Even assuming she decided to escort him all the way to Ashanti territory she should have been back by now. I really hope she didn't get caught up in any of that fellow's scams. I was now regretting not letting her in on the joke that I was playing on that conman. If she took his claims of royalty seriously she might waste more time on him than necessary.
Unfortunately there wasn't much I could do now but trust her judgement. I consoled myself that I'd put strict limits on the resources she could call on, so she wouldn't be able to do too much damage. Putting both Emilie and Jenny out of my mind for the moment, I turned my attention to the news that had come in from my various interests from around the globe.
In international news, the Imperial government was coming under heavy criticism after Interpol blew the labor dispute in the Congo wide open. They were even being accused of oppressing local miners using elite aerial mages sent directly from the mainland. I felt a cold sweat when I read this. It was obvious to me those mages were probably this 207th I'd been hearing about, sent to the Katanga region to hunt me down. Their investigations had undoubtedly led to the shady copper deal I'd been involved in, and which the press had completely misinterpreted to mean they were there to suppress local dissent. Hopefully the outrage would grow big enough they'd be recalled, I didn't fancy the only dual-core mages in the world being less than a day's flight away.
Apart from that there was a bunch of other stuff... economic crisis in the States, belligerent political parties in Francois, social unrest in Ildoa, civil unrest in Bharat, violent unrest in the Middle East, war in Qinguo, and either complete silence or blatant propaganda from the Russy. All in all, I might as well have been reading headlines from my own timeline. Shrugging it off, I turned to news from my businesses.
For now, business in the Americas was going steady. In spite of the ongoing grief caused by the Depression, Velvet Iron and Sunrise Botanicals continued to find customers for their product. Reading between the lines, the illicit demand for marijuana and opium remained as high as ever, with Velvet Iron helping to guard the shipments from legal attention. Hopefully they were making enough legitimate sales to fudge the money trail, or they'd have the American taxmen breathing down their necks.
Household Magicks also continued its steady expansion, helped along by heavy investments in both research to refine their rituals, and magical testing to find enough mages to power those rituals. However, it seemed the time for slow and steady expansion was over. So far, Household Magicks had held a virtual monopoly. Now their CEO, Changying Lin, was telling me they were seeing a number of copycats claiming to offer similar services, some of them from her old neighborhood of Qintown. Most of these copycats were the same superstition peddlers from my old world, but one or two of them had some actual magical knowledge backing their offerings. Clearly, an aggressive response was needed to ensure Household Magicks' market dominance.
Of course, what I considered a proper response differed greatly from what some of the thugs in my employ may have envisioned. Considering how Lin had grown up in an area dominated by Qinese crime syndicates, it was no surprise she suggested (in oblique language) using Velvet Iron to put extralegal pressure on her competition. I might have missed it if I wasn't looking for it, but there was no way I was letting my sole completely legitimate source of income become embroiled in criminal activity. I wrote back a scathing response to Lin where I made it absolutely crystal clear that under no circumstances was there to be any undue threats levied against her competition. The proper way, as I outlined, was for Household Magicks to expand fast enough to push out their opposition through pricing, availability, and quality. And when Household Magicks got big enough that the opposition was unable to compete, they could drive home the final nail by buying out (for a fair price) those of the competition that were actually worth something, and add their expertise to Household's own. That was how a proper market leader did business, and that is what I instructed Lin to do.
Now, to be fair, my plan required a great deal of money that Lin did not have. And so I decided on the route that every startup in the late 20th century had followed when the time came for rapid expansion. I decided to go public.
It was quite an enjoyable intellectual challenge. My vague memories from business school in no way prepared me to design a company's Initial Public Offering, and that was with the added challenge of a stock market that had barely finished bottoming out. In the end, I decided to keep things simple while also leveraging what little political influence Household Magicks had.
My plan to build investor interest started with emphasizing the exotic and mysterious Oriental roots of Feng Shui and then claim it was combined with genuine American magical know-how, a blatant appeal to patriotism. The prospectus would also point to the past two years of steady success as proof of the marketability of our product. This plan would hopefully build some interest and make the company's name known to the public, but I knew full well that real success would depend on garnering the interest of the big banks and financiers. Here is where, for once, politics played in my favor.
In the recently concluded Unified States Presidential Election, the combination of the Depression and turmoil in South America had seen the incumbent government chucked from office. Come the New Year, the new President Thomas Emanuel Smith would be taking his seat, and he just happened to be a Democrat whose path to the White House had been paved by hundreds of thousands of votes raised by Mayor Hague's political machine. I figured with all the preferential treatment my companies had given him over the years, the least Hague could do is drop a friendly word in the ears of his fellow Democrat. I wasn't expecting a public endorsement from the President, but having even a few Democrat-leaning bankers looking kindly at Household Magicks could very well make the difference in getting this IPO off the ground.
I set the fundraising goal at $250,000, or about six months' gross revenue. Not much in the grand scheme of things, but enough to fuel a significant expansion. If we were really lucky, we might even raise half a million. I did wish I could be in America to oversee the process in person. As far away as I was, all I could do was send a few pages of general instructions and hope for the best.
In Africa, Cold Steel was showing decent profits. This was not much comfort to me, as I could only guess how much of it came from gun running and other illegal acts. However, recently they had literally struck gold. An expedition in north-eastern Congo, aided by Black Diamond's mining expertise, had located what seemed to be a rich vein of gold. Unfortunately, it was in an extremely remote location far from current development. Exploiting it would require significant up front expenses.
Well, I had no interest in looking for public investment here. Given the enormous stink Interpol was raising about the labor situation in the Congo, I felt it only a matter of time before Mary Sioux' report led to Cold Steel being raided. There was no need to draw even more attention. So I told the CEO to use his best judgement, while also sternly reminding him the importance of treating his workers well and keeping everything provably above board.
Speaking of Black Diamond, their future was looking bleak. The drop in international copper demand had finally broken the Rhodesian copper cartel. While this was good for copper buyers, it also meant an end to Black Diamond's easy income. Now it's refined copper was barely breaking even. Still, the company had fulfilled its primary goal of stocking up on uranium ore. I was tempted to shut down the refinery and turn the company entirely to a commodity holding company with a bit of prospecting on the side.
Before I threw in the towel on the refinery, I decided to take a stab at finding a new customer for the copper. There was a report that had come from Tilbury Security in Albion. As a shareholder I got regular reports on their business activity, and recently Tilbury had been hired to provide guards to some oil company executives visiting the Trucal States. It seemed Albion was making a move on the oilfields of the Middle East. This did not surprise me, the Turkmen Empire had been devoured by infighting in recent months. The Trucal States had never been part of their territory, but the European powers had nonetheless tread lightly. Now that the threat of Turkmen interference had vanished under troubled waters, the Albish were the first to get out their fishing rods.
The Trucal States were actually a loose conglomeration of independent fiefdoms that in my world would one day form the United Arab Emirates. Right now they were rich in sand and belligerent nomads. You couldn't even say they were rich in oil, since they lacked the tools to exploit it. If Albion or any other European power wanted access to that oil, they would have to build a great deal of modern infrastructure. Infrastructure that would need copper. I ordered Black Diamond to send an expert team to the Trucal States to look for anyone developing the area, and see if they could be talked into making us their source of copper.
Last but not least, we come to Dark Earth. There was really not much to say, they were deep in the red but were meeting their goals for acquiring capital and human assets. Only time would tell if there would be a market for their products. However, their workers were being extremely active in the Oceanic Affirmation Party. I'd expected a political opponent to the Planter's Association to develop, but this was much faster than expected. It did however present an opportunity to reduce the political clout of the Planter's Association. I didn't know how much influence Dark Earth had over their workers' politics, but I sent instructions to try and get them to swear loyalty to Albion while presenting themselves as opposed to only the current landlords.
The narrative we would try to present would be a picture of honest and humble African and Asian subjects of the Commonwealth being ruthlessly exploited by greedy Francois interlopers, stealing food from Albion's native subjects, and money from the Albish taxpayer. It was utter bullshit but the Albish had been fighting the Francois for far longer than they have been friends, so anti-Francois bigotry was always a political winner. With an Albish-run company like Dark Earth proving they could get along with the natives, the narrative would be even easier for the Albish public to swallow. With just a bit of lobbying in Londinium, Dark Earth might get the Planter's Association off its back long enough to get established.
As I worked away, Christmas came and went. Even though I despised Being X, I'd still enjoyed the holiday as being one of the few times when both sides of the war would invariably declare a truce. Visha managed to implement a recipe for plum pudding that she got from the Governor's household during her last visit, and I decided to indulge my hormonal side by buying her the raciest swimsuit I could find in any catalog. As I had hoped, receiving the gift from a fellow woman meant she accepted it without fuss, and in spite of her blushing she started wearing it regularly. I have to admit, it really is wonderful to live somewhere that is warm all year round. I was actually looking forward to what the New Year will bring.
January 5, 1930, Chancellor's Residence, Berun, The Empire
Brigadier General Erich von Lergen was a man who prided himself on his work, and had long since resigned himself to being rewarded with more difficult work. Yet even he felt some trepidation in once more being involved, however indirectly, with the doings of one Tanya von Degurechaff.
"Are you sure you can't find someone else, Chancellor?" he asked mildly. Long familiarity with the man sitting across from him meant he felt safe in speaking freely. "You are aware of my opinion regarding the former Major."
"It is exactly because of your skepticism regarding Degurechaff that you are the best man for this assignment, General," replied the Chancellor.
"Oh? I am surprised to hear you say that, Chancellor. After all, it is no secret that you were one of her strongest supporters during her time in the military."
Hans von Zettour leaned back in his chair and pulled on his cigar as he considered how much to share with the man before him. Picking his words carefully, he said, "No matter how much I may admire the girl, I am not blind to the fact that she is an extremely dangerous person who is now out in the world entirely unsupervised. The only point of contact we have is the Cold Steel Trading Company, and even that is unconfirmed. So we need someone in the Congo to keep an eye on this company, make sure it does not exceed the bounds of... approved business."
Lergen adjusted his glasses and fixed the Chancellor with a stern look. "That's strange. I'm pretty sure I read a news article saying you're handing a number of concessions to Cold Steel. That does not sound like official disapproval to me."
Zettour's lips thinned. "I had less choice in that than you might think, General. The systematic abuse revealed by Interpol tainted and embarrassed all the largest trading companies in the region. In order to rehabilitate our public image, the government had to revoke their concessions and instead hand them to companies with a proven track record of treating their workers well. Cold Steel was at the top of a depressingly short list."
"If you will pardon me Chancellor, but it sounds as if you are telling me Cold Steel is now politically untouchable. And yet you are asking me to try and curtail their less savory activities."
"It's not quite so hopeless, General. As part of making sure such abuses cannot occur again, any company with a concession in the colonies is now subject to a far greater degree of oversight. You will find the garrison commander's power to investigate and enforce the rules greatly expanded. The new Governor appointed to the Congo has also been briefed to support you fully."
Lergen considered this for a moment. "That does sound better. But I seem to recall a young girl with some very... creative... yet legal interpretations of the rules of war. If Degurechaff really is involved with Cold Steel, do you really think we'll find any clear evidence of wrongdoing?"
"Forcing them to be creative is still better than letting them operate without any oversight at all," sighed Zettour. "Besides, once we know where the loopholes are, we can at least try to plug them." Then his gaze sharpened. "I hope you understand, General Lergen, this is not permission to carry out some kind of vendetta. It is because of your experience with Degurechaff that you are being asked to take command in the Congo, but in the end you too are bound by the same laws you are being asked to reinforce."
Lergen stiffened. "I resent the implication, Chancellor. Personal feelings aside, I have always done my duty."
Zettour nodded. "I know, General. That is exactly why I'm trusting you with such a sensitive post. You did sterling work integrating and pacifying Morocco, and I need you to do the same here. I did not mean to impugn your honor, but it is best if there is no misunderstanding."
Knowing this was the closest thing to an apology he was going to get, Lergen tilted his head in acceptance. "And what happens if I should actually locate Tanya von Degurechaff?"
"She is still a wanted woman, General. Naturally, you will do your best to arrest her. However, since her exact legal status is still very uncertain, you are not permitted lethal measures."
Lergen stared. "Degurechaff is the most dangerous mage in the world. She is reported to be in the company of former members of the 203rd, the only other mages in the world who might reasonably compete with her. And you're telling me I'm not allowed to shoot at her?"
"Self-defense is still permitted, General. But yes, you are not permitted to fire the first shot. If she shoots at your men, then by all means, shoot back."
Lergen wanted to shout back that Degurechaff was infamous for only needing one shot. It took a deep breath before he calmed down and reminded himself that Degurechaff no longer had access to the Type 95 or 97. Her personal lethality now had an upper limit. Her tactical and strategic lethality still remained distressingly undefined, but at least she could no longer blow up a city on a whim.
Zettour observed the expressions flitting across his junior's face. "I know it is a hard thing I ask of you, General Lergen," he said seriously. "But it is because of your proven ability that I ask it of you. I am also working on changing the Empire's official stance on Degurechaff. Just keep a lid on things, General, and keep an ear open. Hopefully, there will soon be good news."
As Lergen took his leave of Zettour, it occurred to him that Zettour had not defined what constituted 'good' news. He had a feeling that, where Degurechaff was concerned, his and the new Chancellor's definition of 'good' might be somewhat divergent.
January 27, 1930, Ndola, Rhodesia
Elya puffed heavily as sweat streamed off her brow. She never thought she'd miss the cold winters of Prussia, but right now she'd give anything to feel a chill on her skin. It really was much too hot to go through the kind of workout she was doing. Alas, the last few months had produced so few results that she'd had to take up serious exercise just to keep from getting fat.
For months now, she and Mary and Strong had been poking away at Black Diamond and the other mining concerns in northern Rhodesia, looking for any link to Degurechaff through the mining deal that Mary had interrupted. However, all their presence had achieved was to make life difficult for the local copper cartel. In fact, their constant poking seemed to have spooked the cartel into breaking up, which may or may not be a good thing, but was certainly nothing to do with Degurechaff. They'd even moved their base from Lukasa to Ndola in order to be closer to the companies of interest, but even that hadn't helped anything.
"Done already, Roth? You're not slacking off, are you?"
Elya scowled at the smug smirk Mary was throwing at her. The American-Legadonian was in annoyingly good shape. Unlike Elya who only exercised enough to keep her figure, Mary seemed hell bent on winning a rematch with Degurechaff, and had been working out whenever she could. Even though Mary was sweating just as much, she was still breathing much more easily than Elya.
As Elya studied Mary, her scowl changed to a smirk. Mary's own smile faded as her expression grew wary. Finally, Elya spoke. "Not bad, Sioux. That's what, six miles in forty minutes? Mage or no, those are some strong legs."
"Thanks...?"
"Bet they'd feel great wrapped around me!"
Mary gave a long-suffering sigh. "And there it is. Seriously Roth, could you stop being so predictable and not turn everything into innuendo?"
"I would, except that cute little blush says you li-i-ike it!" Elya sang.
Mary could feel her face going from faint pink to bright red. It wasn't her fault! She was still a young woman, and she enjoyed compliments. Even from someone as insufferable as Roth. Refusing to give the annoying Imperial any more ammunition, she threw herself into a set of push-ups.
It was at that moment that there was a knock on the doors to their shared rooms.
Captain Strong entered, still looking as neat as ever in spite of the heat. Mary immediately broke off her reps and sat up. Strong wouldn't barge in like this without good reason.
"Ladies," Strong nodded to them. "I have some interesting news."
Once they were both paying attention, he started to lecture while pacing. "Several weeks ago, Nana Osei Prempeh returned to the Ashanti kingdom in the Albish Gold Coast, and was promptly crowned monarch by a jubilant people. Albion found this very concerning since the man was an outspoken opponent to their presence and had been exiled decades ago after the Albish put down a native uprising. In spite of their best efforts, the man miraculously escaped his exile to some island, evaded all border checks, and managed to reappear on his seat of power. However, when the Albish moved to arrest him once again, they found their efforts rebuffed by natives who had suddenly got their hands on modern arms and training, and there are even rumors of magical assistance. Any of this sound familiar?"
Elya could see the connection. "Give the natives a cause, arm them, support them, and then turn them loose against their colonial overlords," she checked off on her fingers. "Sounds like Degurechaff all right. First Colombia, then Congo, now... the Gold Coast?" Elya started biting her lip. "Captain, why would Degurechaff drop all her work in Congo to mess with the Gold Coast?"
"Maybe it's revenge?" Mary flushed at the raised eyebrows from both her colleagues. "Don't look at me like that, it makes sense! Degurechaff's work in Colombia screwed over the Americans, the Congo thing has become a huge embarrassment for the Empire, and now she's screwing with the Albish. Three major powers, all of them among the countries sponsoring both the tribunal that tried her, and later Interpol to pursue her."
"So... what? Are you saying everything she's done is to get back at the countries who tried her?" asked Elya curiously.
Now it was Mary who was scowling in deep thought. "Maybe. When I spoke to her though, the impression I got... she is not a woman who does things for just one simple reason," she ventured.
"Don't forget the profit motive," observed Strong. "The Ashanti region is known to contain gold mines. The Albish have never been able to properly exploit it due to the uncooperative natives, but having a monarch who owes his restoration to you can definitely make a difference."
All three of them pondered this information for a minute. Then Elya spoke, "So, Captain, I take it we're on our way to the Gold Coast?"
"Not quite," denied Strong. "We've spent years chasing Degurechaff and getting nowhere. Instead, we're going to be focusing on the logistics. If the Ashanti are getting their hands on modern guns, I think we can all guess the identity of their supplier?"
""Cold Steel,"" came the chorus.
"Exactly. Instead of chasing around the jungle looking for Degurechaff, we're going to Point Noir and try and see if we can pick up the trail there. It's almost guaranteed Degurechaff or one of her subordinates is directly involved with the weapon smuggling."
Mary spoke up. "No offense to Roth, Captain, but Congo is Imperial territory. Do you think we'll get any cooperation from the local authorities?"
Strong nodded. "A valid concern. As it happens, they've got a new garrison commander, a General Lergen. Know him, Roth?"
"I've heard of him. Supposed to be an excellent staff officer. I think he worked with Degurechaff, but was rumored to not be her biggest fan," replied Elya, brow furrowed as she tried to remember.
"Yes well, he's also openly committed himself to cooperating with Interpol to put an end to the human rights abuse happening in the Congo," said Strong. "So far, he seems sincere. So I don't think he'll be able to refuse us if we ask for his help. Especially since the chaos in the Congo was kicked off by the same person we're chasing."
There was another moment of silent consideration. "Well then," Elya broke the silence. "I guess we're headed to Point Noir. Got a plan for if we run into any of your ex-coworkers, Mary?"
"Oh, I think I'll just play it by ear," came Mary's sarcastic response.
February 14, 1930, Ila Rouge, Seychelles
I had mixed feelings over the latest high-level report from Cold Steel. Apparently, after General Zettour took over as Chancellor he had redistributed the various concessions awarded to Imperial companies, with an eye towards rewarding those companies who had proven themselves able to work with natives without abusing them. Cold Steel had been a significant beneficiary of this largesse, the biggest being the concession on agri-products throughout the lower Congo river system, and the concessions on mined minerals in the Kasai river system and the Mutumbi mountains.
These concessions were something of a mixed blessing. The territories were either completely undeveloped or left in chaos by the excesses of their predecessors. Ironic since a good portion of the chaos had been supplied and encouraged by Cold Steel. Now faced with a big opportunity requiring equally big investment, Cold Steel's management had chosen to go public on the Imperial stock exchange.
On the one hand, this was as good a time as any. Cold Steel was showing a profit, and had just been handed some very potent concessions, and they had discovered gold just a few weeks prior. I was sure, if properly managed, they would be able to raise a large amount of capital from the public. On the other hand, it would also draw a large amount of scrutiny.
In the end, I decided to approve it for two reasons. First, if the executives of Cold Steel weren't worried about the additional scrutiny, then I wouldn't be either. After all, I had told them to use their best judgement.
The second reason was the new Congo garrison commander, Brigadier General Lergen. While we may have butted heads occasionally, I had nothing but respect for the man's efficiency and law-abiding nature. In fact, Cold Steel's own report asked for advice on how to deal with this zealous new enforcer of the law, and how his attention was forcing them to curtail some 'business arrangements'.
Smirking, I penned a letter ordering them to cooperate fully with Lergen. Curtailing their illegal activities was exactly what I wanted. I was not at all above using Lergen as a club to bludgeon the reprobates into behaving. How I'd been so foolish as to hire such crooks, I don't know. I'd fire them, except they remained annoyingly effective when they weren't playing fast and loose with the law. So instead I decided to force them to cooperate with one of the most law-abiding men I know. Hopefully they'll realize they don't need to indulge in criminal activity to turn a profit.
I was just putting away my day's correspondence when I noticed Visha waiting by my office door. This was unusual, as I had long since given her permission to let herself in.
"Yes, Visha, what is it?"
She approached me and shyly held out a small open box. Contained within it were some white and brown lumps that looked a bit like chocolate. At my raised eyebrow, she blushed prettily and said, "Well...er...ma'am… I was talking to some of the other people on the islands, and apparently the Albish have this celebration on this day called Valentine's Day? And, you're supposed to give presents to someone you care about… and chocolate is traditional… and I made these myself…"
By this point, her face was red as a tomato, and I could feel my own face heating up. How did this happen?!
Even in my last life, I'd never known what to do about Valentine's Day. Especially in high school, girls that I'd barely spoken to would come and give me gifts, leaving me completely lost as to how to respond. The weeks between Valentine's Day and White Day would be spent in constant anxiety as I racked my brains for an appropriate response. At least the Empire didn't recognize the event, and so I'd thought myself free from that source of stress.
And yet, against all reason, here was Visha, having been infected by this idiotic holiday. What was worse was that unlike the girls in my school, Visha was someone I actually cared about. I couldn't afford to take this situation lightly, but I had no idea what it meant for a girl to offer chocolates to another girl on this day. Well, yes, there was the obvious answer, but this wasn't the 21st century and I wasn't about to indulge in wishful thinking.
Just then, fortune intervened in the form of an aircraft engine. Looking up at the sound, I reflexively used a spell to zoom in on the craft. "It's the Sea Duck!" I exclaimed, a note of genuine relief in my voice.
The Sea Duck, so named by Emilie Ernest, was the flying boat she had gone off in along with the fake king. That was three months ago, and I couldn't deny watching it return was an enormous weight off my mind. Even better, it gave me the perfect excuse to get out of this awkward conversation. Visha seemed briefly upset, but even for her, curiosity won out over clinging to some secondhand ritual.
Alas, my persona as a reclusive leper meant I couldn't rush down to the pier the way I wanted. Instead the two of us got the house ready to receive guests and we donned our respective disguises in case Emilie was accompanied by anyone.
Within a few minutes, Emilie had arrived at our place. She must have rushed here as soon as she docked, which meant she had something urgent to report, presumably something to do with the several packages she carried. She was also alone, so once she was inside we dispensed with our disguises.
I fixed Emilie with a stern glare as I remarked, "You're late."
She gave a confident smile. "Sorry, boss. But getting the king crowned and collecting our reward took a bit more doing than I expected."
I stared. "You… crowned him?"
"Yeah, King of the Ashanti, just like you said! It was quite a celebration!"
"And… no one objected?"
"Just a few… but they were shown to be Albish collaborators, so they were gotten rid of right quick. Everyone else was real pleased to get their king back."
"And that's what took you so long?"
"Nah, that took only a few weeks. They rest of the time was spent arming and training the Ashanti."
"Arming and training?"
"Well, it was no good crowning the king if the Albish just exiled him again. So Koenig and the boys had fun leading the Commonwealth Army on a merry chase, while I got in touch with Cold Steel."
"I thought I said not to use company resources."
"No problem, I wasn't drawing anything from them. I just arranged an arms sale from them to the Ashanti. It happened at a great time too. Apparently some busybody General was really putting the screws to the weapons trade in the Congo, so Cold Steel was sitting on this big pile of high-end gear that they were happy to get rid of."
"You don't say," I said faintly.
"Yes, ma'am. Speaking of, here's this great little toy that's the latest thing out of Colombia. I got enough for all of us."
So saying, Emilie opened up the larger packages. Visha leaned forward curiously, before picking up the revealed weapon. "A handgun?" she muttered. "No, the design is a bit off. It's like…"
"A machine pistol." The words left my lips without conscious prompting. No one from my world could possibly mistake the compact pistol-shape combined with a shoulder stock and an extended magazine.
Emilie looked deeply impressed. "How'd you know that's what it was called?"
"Lucky guess."
"Oh, so it's a rapid-fire pistol?" asked Visha.
"Yes! Apparently the idea came from your American friends in Velvet Iron Protection. They wanted a rapid fire weapon for city fighting, but they wanted something lighter and cheaper than the Thompsons, light enough to shoot one-handed. So some American gunmakers got together with Colombian ordnance, and they came up with this beauty. They call it the M29 Scorpion. It fires a short nine millimeter at 750 rounds a minute, and carries twenty in the magazine. Also got a selector so you can fire it semi-auto like a regular pistol."
I wondered how on earth Lena's reports failed to mention them developing a machine pistol, but then I remembered a line item labeled 'equipment development'. I really needed to ask for more details.
Tuning back into the conversation, I found myself agreeing with Visha to find some place to try out our new toys. However, the excitement over the new weaponry couldn't distract me for long from the rest of what I had heard.
I really should have known better than to trust the battle maniacs of the 203rd. Instead of dropping off the conman and leaving, they'd actually gone and crowned him king, and eliminated anyone who objected! I could only console myself that it would be only a matter of time before the Albish got rid of him. After all, how long could a ragtag bunch of primitives armed with barely adequate weaponry hold out against one of the world's superpowers?
While I was thinking, Emilie had continued with the rest of her report. Apparently they had given the Ashanti basic training in their new weapons while bamboozling the Albish troops, and then they'd collected their promised reward from the new king and headed back.
"Wait, what reward?"
Emilie gave another wide smile as she opened up the last, smallest package.
There is something about gold, a luster, something so unmistakable that even someone who's never seen it before will instinctively recognize it. What Emilie presented was a slim bar small enough to fit into my hand. It was not perfectly smooth, being a bit rough around the edges with a crudely stamped crest.
"The Ashanti don't really have a standardized bullion or anything, so I had them mold the gold into kilo bars, and as pure as they could get it. We'll probably need a proper bank to evaluate and cash them in."
"Wow," whispered Visha. "How much did you get?"
"As much as the plane could hold and still make the trip, so about 400 kilos." It was at this point Emilie grew a little concerned. "Ah, this wasn't all of it, but since I couldn't bring it anyway, I told the others they could keep it. Was that all right?"
"It's perfectly fine…" I replied vaguely, my mind occupied trying to calculate the value of what Emilie had dragged along.
Visha was thinking along the same lines. "400 kilos of gold… how much is that?" she whispered.
Emilie had more time than any of us to think about it. She replied promptly, "Gold's fixed at around 83 marks to the troy ounce...so around 1.2 million marks, depending on the purity."
Right. That put it into perspective. Three hundred thousand US dollars might sound like a lot, but it was tied up in 400 kilos of metal. My net worth was several times that, and I didn't have to cart around almost half a ton of weight. Gold? Hah! Give me high denomination banknotes any day.
"Turning this into actual money without having it traced back to us will be tricky... Wait, Emilie, you didn't take the Sea Duck all the way to the Gold Coast, right?"
"Right. Only up to Mzizima."
"So you had to first cart the 400 kilos all the way across Central Africa. How did you do that?"
"Stuck it in crates labeled scrap metal and had Cold Steel send it by rail, no problem."
I paled. "Emilie, General Lergen is investigating Cold Steel."
"So?"
"So? So! Do you really think someone as intelligent as him would be fooled by such a transparent ruse? I guarantee your activities have not gone unnoticed. He's probably tracing your movements even as we speak."
"Well... Seychelles is Albish territory, isn't it?"
"We already know how much the Empire respects international borders where I am concerned. And unlike Colombia, there's not a single mage stationed to the Seychelles."
Visha and Emilie were both pale, having realized the gravity of the situation. "What do we do?" asked Visha.
"First, that gold is dead weight. Emilie, is it still in Cold Steel crates?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then fly it back to Mzizima, and then escort it back to the Congo. I'll send orders from here. Cold Steel recently discovered a gold mine. That mine is going to start producing a little earlier than expected."
"Understood!"
"Also, Emilie? That gold is not worth any of our lives or freedom. Get it off your hands as soon as you can. Dump it in the ocean if you have to. And warn the others!"
"Yes ma'am!"
"I and Visha will be bugging out as well. We'll use contact plan three to re-establish communications."
"I understand. And I'm really sorry about this, ma'am."
"Don't be sorry, soldier. Be better!"
Once Emilie was on her way, Visha and I started packing. I could tell she was sad about having to leave our beautiful little island. I know I was. I tried to cheer her up. "Look on the bright side, Visha. At least all that contingency planning didn't go to waste."
"You don't have to sound so happy," she pouted, but I could see the smile struggling to break free. The girl really was a thrill seeker at heart. "So, which plan will we use?"
I thought about it. "All things considered, and considering how many people Emilie's latest escapade managed to annoy, I think Plan Four."
"Four? Francois territory?"
"But of course. The last place anyone will look for me. I trust you can speak the language?"
"My mother was raising me for court before we had to flee Russy. I learned all the important languages," she replied.
"Is that why your Albish was so terrible when we first met?"
"As I said, I learned all the important languages," she said in her haughtiest tone.
We both shared a laugh at that, before we turned our attention to our preparations. Within an hour, the leper and her companion would be boarding their private boat. Within three, we would be in a new disguise, headed in a completely different direction. Next stop, Djibouti.