Edward (16 page)

Edward
grinned slightly; the server was one of theirs.

The
‘server’ laid the thin black boxes in front of Tatiana and Zoë, nodded, and
then quickly departed.

“Um,
what is this?” asked Tatiana suspiciously.

Gillian
grinned, “I think they are generally called ‘peace offerings.’  Go ahead,
open them up.”

Zoë
and Tatiana looked at each other nervously.  With a quick nod they both
opened the boxes at the same time.

“Wow!”
said Tatiana.

“Wow
indeed!” echoed Zoë with her eyes glowing wide.

Tatiana
reached down and lifted out the object of interest: they each had a sprawling
diamond necklace, heavy from gold and platinum, glistening from the cut stones
shining in the lights overhead.

“See,
it’s not a tiara,” joked Gillian.

“These
have to be worth a fortune,” stammered Zoë.

“About
a quarter of a million each, if I caught the phone call right.”

“He
spent half a million to say ‘sorry’?” asked Tatiana more than a little
incredulous.

“Well,
you noticed he didn’t tell you face to face,” laughed Gillian.

“Um,
what did you agree to, dare I ask?”

“We
agreed that
if
you tour off planet, he has the first right of refusal to
book you.  No more, no less.  Those necklaces are yours with no
strings attached.  Yes, Zoë, I know what you could do with a quarter of a
million, but do me a favor: wait at least a week before you consider selling
it, okay?”

Zoë
was still in a state of shock; she had never held anything so valuable in her
hands her entire life.  Finally she managed to squeak out a feeble, “Yes,
Mom.”

Tatiana
made a fake pout, “He didn’t get anything for Edward, and he was way rude to
him!”

“That’s
all right,” replied Edward, “I have you two.  What else could a guy want?”

The
four of them, with no small amount of work, finally got Tazo to sit with them
and have an after-dinner snack.  Gillian hadn’t eaten much of anything and
Tazo, well, his eating schedule was flexible at the best of times.

“Just
for my own understanding,” began Tazo, “were you actually concerned that Edward
might inflict serious bodily harm to Mr. York?”

Gillian
wrinkled her nose, “I doubted it, but I wouldn’t have bet money on it if
Thatcher had done anything.”

“Nah,
Gigi would have flattened her if Tazo didn’t get to her first,” smirked Edward.

Tazo
blinked with sudden realization, “That was
our
Gigi in there?  Now
I understand why you were unconcerned about leaving Lady Gillian in the room
with them.  I did not appreciate the thoroughness of the security at
hand.”

Gillian
nodded as she enjoyed her desert, “Trevor is very well organized, and the team,
as I have grown to know, is very versatile and experienced.”

“And
I am the weak link it appears,” murmured Tazo.

“Not hardly,” replied
Edward, “You are just new.”

“And
stuck partnered to a wild card,” kidded Gillian.  “But seriously, grenade
launchers are overkill.”

Tazo
looked to Edward.

Edward
smiled and nodded, “They are a bit messy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t carry
it and something else too!”

“Oh,
heavens, Edward!” scoffed Gillian.

“Never
can be too prepared,” joked Edward.

“Foo!”
remarked Tatiana suddenly.

“Yes?”
asked Edward.

“Sorry. 
Just realized that it is too late to hit the dance clubs
tonight.”

“Oh,
well there is that.  Plus you would probably give poor Trevor a heart
attack,” suggested Gillian.

Tatiana
laughed, “Poor, poor Trevor.  He does such a good job though.”

“Want
to just head back to the flat?” asked Zoë.

“Sure,
as soon as Gillian and Tazo are done.”

“Please,
do not modify your schedule on my account,” replied Tazo.

“Did
you even like your desert?”

“It
was spicy and high in carbohydrates.”

“Yes,
but did you
like
it?”

“I
thought it was ultimately boring compared to the company.”

“Oh, that
is so sweet, Tazo,” beamed Tatiana.

“Well,
girls and guys, we can head out now if you like,” said Gillian.  “I can
just take the last bit of this with me.  Edward, why don’t you alert the
ride, and I’ll take care of the bill?”

Edward
nodded and tapped his comlink, “We are about ready to head back to the
nest.  How soon can the wheels be ready?”

“Transport
will be ready in less than five.  Is Tatiana wanting
to work the crowd on the way out?  We’d request otherwise,” came Trevor’s
voice.

Tatiana
shook her head, “Especially not carrying these!” She waved the black box that
held her new necklace.

“Good
plan,” agreed Gillian.

“We
are going to make a straight exit,” replied Edward over the comlink.

“You
don’t know how happy that makes me.”

“You
have an ulcer yet?”

Trevor
laughed, “Contrary to popular belief, this isn’t the worst operation I’ve had
to play god’s eye on.  Or at least, not yet.”

“We’ll
try to keep it that way.  Can we get Alex and Co.?”

“They
are in the lobby.”

“Excellent,
we’re in motion.  Out.”

“Out.”

The
group quickly formed up and moved to the lobby.  Without breaking step,
Alex and Meeka joined the group.  Meeka motioned to Tazo, and the pair of
Shukurae warriors put on their game face: heads down, tusks thrusting forward
and letting their teeth show.   It was going to take very little
effort for that pair to plow through the crowd, and that was exactly their
plan.

Just
as they hit the far end of the lobby, they were met by Mr. York and the rest of
his party.  He smiled nicely to the crowd as they approached and stayed
well clear of the Shukurae.  “I will try to meet you all again after your
opening concert.  I will endeavor to be a more gracious host next time, to
all of you.”

Edward
smiled and nodded.  That was as close to an apology as he was going to
get, but it was close enough.  They all took two more steps towards the
front doors and suddenly Edward’s senses exploded.  It was as if he could
suddenly feel every hair on his body and smell everyone in the room.  Time
seemed to stand still and he could not understand why.  But in the back of
his brain, years of coaching from his brother combined with raw instincts came
clawing its way to the front of his consciousness.  His Live Steel armor
came up like a curtain and swirled around the party.  Its traditional
cascade of blue sparks seems to float lazily in the air as his mind
raced.  He still didn’t understand the nature of the threat, but every
fiber of his being was calling out.  He would have enjoyed the sensation
of time dilation if it hadn’t been coupled with the primeval response to
protect against the unknown foe.

There
it was, floating in space: a dart from a 25mm saboted round.  Its trailing
fins slowly spinning seemed to be mocking him.  But it was the nose that
worried him.  Tungsten carbide was hard and dense, usually meant for
cutting open armored vehicles; it was being fired into the crowd of
people.  The faint red haze behind it illustrated to Edward instantly that
it had already gone through one person in its path so far.  Edward tried
to move, he tried to scream, but both of those things were going to take
time.  Time was not on his side.  Or was it? 

 Think!
Think!  You cannot move fast enough; it is closing at mach 4.
  His Live Steel armor was still circling the
party.  First he concentrated on that, and it formed a solid sheet, floor
to ceiling.  Not the traditional manifestation of armor, but he didn’t care, he didn’t have time to care.  He tried to reach
out with a Live Steel weapon, strike the bullet in its path.  But the weapons
he had were hand weapons and biased by the speed of his own arms.  He was
at an impasse.  He watched as the bullet approached and smashed against
his armor.  The bullet splattered and crashed to the floor while Edward
recoiled in pain.

Time
caught back up with Edward as he tried to scream.  He watched Alex start
to turn and expertly raise his own armor and attempted to balloon it outward to
help protect the girls.  Then, just as suddenly as before, time returned
to that same crawl.  His mind raced as he fought to move, scream, do anything.  But his mind instead
focused on another tungsten carbide dart inbound on his group.  The
rounds were staggered in space, left to right, that implied dual barrels. 
Dual barrels from a light anti-armor 25mm weapon system. 
That meant most likely a three round burst from each barrel.  Six rounds
all together, the later rounds would probably pull high but that still meant he
had between three and six rounds heading his way and the first one hurt a
lot!  He had to do this a different way.

Edward
could feel his fur ripple in color.  If it was rippling in color at this
speed, he was curious what it looked like on the outside.  Was this
it?  Was this him on the edge of going from a Silver
to a High Silver?  Is this how it felt?  Is this what his brothers saw and felt when they went into combat?  He
didn’t have time for questions; he didn’t have time for games.  The round
was inbound and he still did not have a plan that didn’t involve excruciating
pain.

Gigi.  Gigi
seemed to be calling out in the back of his mind.  She was small, she was
not nearly as strong as most of her opponents, but she always came out on
top.  Edward had sparred with her many times, and in hand-to-hand she had
always knocked his furry tail to the mats.  Edward hated it!  He was
having an argument with his own brain!  What was it trying to tell
him? 
Calm.
  Combat calm.
 His
brothers had always said.  Calm.  What would
Gigi do if she was standing where he was?  She wouldn’t block the
shot!  That was it.  She would deflect it.   Why stop the
projectile when you can deflect it and use its own energy to destroy itself?

Edward’s
Live Steel armor raced forward in a long parabolic arc, just barely making
contact with the nose of the incoming round.  He focused on the round as
it came closer, pushing it ever so slightly as it
did.  He could almost see the path projected forward in time. 
Ironically, the less the group was in danger the closer to normal time seemed
to return until at last the dart had cleanly ricocheted off his armor and
smashed harmlessly into a column.

Edward
had time for half a breath this time, and was in substantially less pain when
the next rounds came flying in.  It was dual
barrel firing a three round burst, just as he had expected.  But now, as
the remaining four rounds came in, he was prepared.  He was no longer
scared, no longer with the nervous anticipation of pain. He was a Highlander
defending his clan in high form against an attack from “primitive”
weapons.  Edward was almost a little disappointed that it was Alex who
deflected the sixth round.  It was almost a matter of pride, but Alex was
doing his part.  Now was time to retaliate!

Edward
screamed and growled all at once; it wasn’t pain, it was primeval rage. 
His armor continued to swirl around them in an ethereal cloud while he drank in
what had just happened.  A burst of fire had come from across the street
at them, cutting into the crowd in order to strike its prey.  People
outside were screaming in pain; most likely some were already dead. 
Inside, the atrium was covered with glass and the cratered rounds from the 25mm
gun.  Tazo collapsed to the ground; it was unclear how badly he had been
hit.  Gigi had thrown Mr. York to the ground.  Outside, the armored car
had set off its smoke dispensers to provide cover.

Alex
glared at Edward. “Stay here, do not chase!” he barked in the Highland
tongue.  There was no room for confusion.

 Edward
nodded.  “I’ll hold the fort.  You hunt them down!”

Alex hopped
onto Meeka’s back and the pair vanished into the smoke outside.

Edward
looked down and realized Zoë had shouldered Tazo’s sidearm, ready to return
fire if needed.  She handled the weapon expertly, even though its controls
were oversized for her.  That threw Edward for a loop.

“We
need to move Tazo clear,” yelled Gillian over the confusion.  “He’s still
kicking.” 

With
a quick nod, they all, with Gigi joining the group, dragged Tazo’s heavy form
deep into the lobby and behind a massive pillar just as Edward’s comlink
chirped.

“Client
is safe, Tazo injured.  Requesting extraction from the roof,” barked
Edward as they rolled Tazo over.

“Massive
leg injury,” observed Zoë.

“It
missed the bone and major arteries,” replied Gigi as the pair of them started to
apply makeshift bandages.  “We keep the pressure on it, and he should be
fine.”  She reached across his massive form, further exaggerated by her
own slight form, and grabbed a tusk and shook, “You awake up there?”

“Barely. 
Something struck my head as well,” came his broken
response.

“Gunship
inbound, ten minutes,” came Trevor’s voice over the comlink.  “Will Tazo
hold that long or do we need to risk a frontal extraction for him?”

Gigi
slapped her comlink that had been expertly hidden in her dress, “He has a
concussion from an aluminum sabot strike as well as massive leg bleeding. 
We believe we have the bleeding stabilized.  I’d rather risk a tourniquet
than risk a potshot from something serious.”

“Understood,”
came Trevor’s reply.

Mr. York
had scampered over behind the pillar, joining the crowd.  His shocked
looks were evenly divided between Zoë shouldering the Shukurae grenade launcher
and Gigi applying first aid.  “She was with you?”

“I’m
part of the 517
^th
CSOG, yes.”  Gigi shook Tazo by the tusk
again, “Hey, you, stay talking to me if you can.  Need something for
pain?”

“That
would be appreciated.”

Gigi
hiked her dress, past a compact sidearm to a small container.  She popped
it open and pulled out a pair of pills, “Okay, big boy, swallow these. 
But don’t be surprised if the world gets a little silly.”

Tazo
obliged and soon was breathing much more easily and was giggling to himself.

“That
is serious stuff,” observed Gillian.

Mr.
York stared straight at Edward, “You were amazing.  You know that?”

“Now
he figures it out,” giggled Tatiana.