Two months later, Fiona jimmied the door of an abandoned building in East Nielsberg, the population center of far southeast Ostania and capital of the amalgamated territories of Sledgia. She got far enough inside to surprise the one man who came to investigate. A single kick brought him down. She took down two more before she reached the remaining five, who were still only vaguely irritated to hear no reply from their companion. She dropped down from above, straight into the midst of them. She finally had to use her silenced pistol, only twice. She finally considered what they had been guarding. It was two cages of pigeons, which had been audibly cooing the whole time. One perched in a smaller cage, with a strange device attached to its breast.
"They were called the Black Carnival," she said she said to Handler at their debriefing. "Their plan was to smuggle homing pigeons across the border to Hugaria, to deliver bombs to assassinate the Frigian ambassador during his fact-finding expedition. The rest was the same as usual: The incident would provoke a war between Frigis and Hugaria, which would escalate into a new conflict between Westalis and Ostania. In the meantime, they would seize the regional administrative centers and declare their own government. The dupes were told they would act in unison with cells in Broclaw and Klutz. If they really existed, the SSS probably would have picked them all up before we got to them. There was only one who might have known anything. He was one of the ones I had to take down."
"Did you find out anything about their ideology?" Handler said.
"They identify as anti-government separatists fighting for an autonomous republic of Sledgia based on the uncorrupted doctrines of the Revolutionary Party," Fiona said with a snort. "So, the usual, again. Here's the funny thing. Someone told them if they didn't move now, there would be a secret meeting on a plan to reunify Westalis and Ostania. They thought, even if they didn't get their war, the diplomatic strain would stop the meeting. Except, we already know the current Prime Minister and all the leaders of the Ruling Party have rejected even developing a unification plan."
She let a moment of silence pass. "This is just getting scrawed with, Handler," she said. "Three out of four of our missions are another fill-in-the-blank faction trying to start a war. We know the SSS isn't doing this, even if the reparations treaties leave Ostania better off if we start a war they lose, because that will also mean the new government purges them to win Westalis's approval. So why aren't they doing their own damn jobs? Why are we doing it for them?"
"Thank you, that's an interesting way to look at it," Handler said. "I will submit that opinion with your report. Clearly, there is a bigger pattern here. It may be that Ostania is developing a weapon to counter our military advantages."
"Better than three armored divisions and an airbase in Luwen?" Fiona said. "While we're at it, let's talk about the briefing you gave Twilight for Strix. You told him Donovan Desmond was a threat to peace. You said the objective was to find out what plans he had for a new war when he returns to power. But everything I've found says he didn't want a war then, and the one thing he might use to get back into power is a deal with a unification coalition."
Handler looked back at her intently. "Did you discuss any of this with Twilight?" she said coldly.
"I don't need to tell him what he already knows," Fiona said.
"Good," Handler said. "Think about that, the next time you consider talking out of turn. Goodbye, Nightfall."
Fiona had one more appointment in the city. She ordered a cup of coffee from a shop at a certain intersection, until a Citroen HY van pulled up at the opposite corner. By the time she came over, an awning had deployed for a mobile newsstand in the back of the vehicle. The operator had curly hair and glasses. "Hello, pretty lady," he said. "I heard you got engaged."
"We talked about this, Franky," she said. "Do you have what I ordered?"
"You bet," the scruffy proprietor said. "I didn't even have to break any laws." He held out a photo that showed a column of smoke, gas and flame rising from the midst of a town. "They call this the Pillar of Gamera. It's the best known photo of the blast that destroyed Luwen. It was originally submitted by Ostania to an international committee. I'm sure your people have it on file, but I can see the advantages in having your own copy."
"What about the other item?" Fiona said.
"Got that, too," he said. He held up a book, slim in thickness but wide and tall in dimensions. The cover showed a plane that vaguely resembled a manta ray. "It's limited edition, and they didn't exactly advertise. It's all about one plane, the Hinkel X3, complete with declassified specs. It's still not official, but the people who would know say it's the one that took that photo. Experimental jet aircraft, allegedly developed to defeat radar."
"Thanks," Fiona said. She handed over an envelope with a generous payment. "Don't talk to me like you know me. Ever."
She took a high speed train back to Berlint. She stepped off, feeling weary. Then the crowd parted as a man in a chair rolled forward. It was, of course, Steven. There was a whirring from the chair, which he steered with a joystick in his right hand. In the other, he held a bouquet of orchids. "Hello, pretty lady," he said.
"What's this?" she asked.
"They got it done while you were away on your trip," he said. She took the flowers. He pivoted the chair back and forth. "Want to go for a ride?"
The crowd happily parted as the chair zipped down the sidewalk. Fiona hung onto the back, laughing. "Wheee!" she called out.