Her Majesty's Western Service (19 page)

“
Killed in the fight, I heard,” said Augustin. “Got his bags intact. Buddy of mine's agent, telegraph says; saw it come into Chicago with a tramp freighter whose captain was just as happy as happy can be.”

“
Mack had a good ship, I'll give him. Fast freighter,” said Ahle. She only vaguely knew the man; there were a hundred of that type, and the scumbags didn't mix too much with the more civilized pirates. “Ought to fetch a sum on the market. Of which that Vice-Commodore, usual prize rules? One quarter, personally.”

“
Sometimes I figure I oughta join the Imperials myself," said Augustin. "Do most of what we do, and sometimes there's
real
chingada dinero if you're an officer.”

“Quarter of a ship, in his own pocket,” Ahle said. Pirate distribution of loot wasn't nearly as hierarchical, although captains did well enough anyway. “Well,
that
ought to keep that guy and his officers happy enough to not care about losing their first ship!”

The officers' reorganization meeting had only taken about half an hour; 4-106's excess personnel had been split across the squadron's six remaining
– six original – ships, essentially back where they had been. Secundus Wing would be based out of Denver as the squadron had been, and some of the extra crew would be there as a reserve; the rest would be around Hugoton.

The men remaining at Hugoton, manning the two dirigibles left of Primus
Wing, had been given three-day passes; so had the officers. In practice that meant Dodge City, although Hugoton had reasonable facilities. Perry had a token drink in the officers' mess and then went back to his quarters to write a letter to his wife.

I am going on special detached duty
, the letter said.
I’ve been briefed, but I don't begin to know what I'm going to be doing. The provisional plan is that I will go to the Black Hills posing as a less-than-reputable merchant who has acquired nine-inch rockets; that may lead me to 4-106, since the new owner of a ship with them will probably be interested in a resupply.

I have to admit, I'm rather in over my head. Friday and the weekend, one of the MI-7 people will give me an education in basic espionage. I still can't believe this was offered to me, although I can see how a squadron commander would be less than necessary with the squadron split up. And the recovery of 4-106 will be worth any risk to me.

He wrote for a couple of pages and then took an early night; by nine o'clock he was asleep in bed, dreaming of being at the helm of 4-106 again as it lifted from the Black Hills, Captain Karen Ahle a handcuffed prisoner.

Cannon found Marko in a workman’
s dive on the edge of the industrial district, juggling a knife, a beer bottle and three shotglasses while he ferociously lectured a bunch of laborers about the evils of the state. He caught the boss’s eye and gestured with his head.

Urgent
.

“
And that, gentlemen, is why we must
smash
the state and its machinery!” Marko flipped the three glasses into the hands of the nearest workers, knifed the lid off the beer bottle – and in the same move, flung the steak knife into the center of a photo of President Agnew above the door – and then drained the bottle in a single long chug.

A couple of the workers applauded.

“Do not serve the machines, my friends!
Destroy
the machines! Destroy their masters and become free again!” Marko slipped through the crowd and went to Cannon.

“
What?” he demanded in an undertone.

“
I found it. Found our way into Hugoton.”

“
Talk.”

“
Imperials lost an airship. To pirates. Friend of a friend heard something about an Imperial ship being disguised. I know where it's parked.”

“
An
Imperial airship
?” Marko laughed.

“
Not going to shoot down their own bird being returned, are they?”

“
Gonna try, once they realize it's not returning.”

“
Fake some damage mid-air. Time they realize we were just overflying with the kinematographs running, we'll be out of their range, and we'll have the intelligence. Fast bird. Could use it later, too. Depending what you got in mind.”

“
We're go,” said Marko. “Airship needs crew. I know some. You know some.”

“
Rounding up a full crew will take a few hours,” said Cannon. “Rienzi and McIlhan are on notice. Ready to start looking for people. Can Ferrer handle a boiler room?”

“
Not that kind of an engineer. Besides, he'll be focused on the kinematographs. We'll need a full crew. Eighty miles; we'll have an hour and a half to get them up to speed. Time it so we pass over Hugoton at dawn. Round it up.”

“
What about the previous owners?” Cannon asked. “Pirates aren't going to give up their prize without a fight.”

“
I don't see the point in fighting,” said Marko. “We'll just kill them all. More questions?”

Cannon shrugged.
“None I can think of. I'll get busy finding a crew. Place like this, always going to be bodies available.”

“
Hire on long-term contract. We'll need them later.”

“
I need to see Vice Perry,” the man said to the Air Marine guard outside Hugoton officers’ quarters. It was two thirty and nothing ever happened on officer shift; the guard had been half-asleep himself.

Confronted by this
drunk man in greased coveralls, he was waking up fast.

“
Who the
hell
are you?”

“
Senior Airshipman – no, Specialist. Spec Third Rafferty, I am. Listen, mate, I
got
to see the Vice. Wake him the fuck up.”

“
Rip the stripe right off me for waking a Vice-Commodore,” said the guard, a lance-corporal. “Bust
you
right down, too. You're drunk.”

“
Damn right I'm drunk,” said Rafferty. “Get me the fucking Vice or it'll be the worse for you. He finds you've kept this from him tomorrow morning, you ain't gonna lose your stripe. You'll get a ten-forty dishonorable.”

“
Let me get my sergeant,” the young lance said. “Stay
right here
.”

As soon as the guard was out of sight, Rafferty glanced at the
directory and marched past his station into the hall. Nice place, officer country.

Oh, this was good. This was fucking
good
. He giggled to himself. A part of him wished he hadn't chugged down that flask on the train back from Dodge.

Was there any left? He fished it out
of the big pocket of the overalls to check. Yeah, a good-sized stub. He raised it to his mouth and drank the harsh whisky – and there, that was 211, the suite the directory said the Vice lived in at Hugoton. He pounded on the door.

Several hard thumps later, there was a voice.

“What is it?”

“
It's me, Vice! Got news!
Important
news!”

From down the hall, Rafferty could hear that young lance and a more mature voice:

“Where’d he go?”

“
There
.”

“
What the hell is it?” Perry appeared, wearing blue pajamas and a sheepskin dressing gown. “Specialist Rafferty? You're drunk. And in civvies.”

“
I'm sorry, Vice-Commodore.” A strong hand grabbed Rafferty's arm. A middle-aged sergeant, and he did
not
look happy. Rafferty gave him a shit-eating grin in the hope it'd appease him. It didn't seem to. He turned back to the Vice while he still could.

“
I found the bird! I found your lost bird, Vice!”

“
Hold on,” Perry said to the sergeant. “Rafferty, you're drunk.”

“
Damn right I'm drunk. But I found the 4-106.”

“
Sergeant,” said Perry, “go back to your station. No. How many men do you have ready right now?”

“
Just the regular patrols, sir. And the incident response companies, of course.”

“
Go to the front and be ready to call the duty officer. I'm going to talk with this man.”

The sergeant let go of Rafferty's arm, but didn't lower his glare.
One pissed-off NCO
, Rafferty thought. Well, he was used to the breed.

“
Got my thanks, sir,” he said. “Listen, boss. I found that pirate, and word is that she's got 4-106 still. They were celebrating, she and her top buddies.”

“
In Dodge City.”

“
Right in the Boot District, sir.”

“
Boot District's off-limits. As you well know.”

“
It is, sir? I never heard of that.”

“
The list is on your pass. You know damn well it and the surrounding areas are off limits. Everything north of Kliesen Street.”

“
My mistake, sir. Probably won't happen again. Not too soon. Sir.”

“
Do you know where 4-106
itself
is?”

“
No, sir. But that pirate would! Airship park in Dodge, not many places you can hide a bird big as that. It's probably in Dodge since all her crew is, and all!”

“
And you've got a confirmed location on Captain Karen Ahle.”

“
Celebrating at the Foster Arms, weren't they? Two and a half hours ago. In Dodge, I know that much, I does. And the place. The Foster Arms. You got any more drinks in your house?”

“
No. Stay here for a moment.”

Perry went inside, to where a phone stood on a desk.

“Officers’ mess? Yes. This is Vice Perry. I want you to make something for an enlisted man named Rafferty who'll be showing up shortly. Fat and calories, whatever best absorbs alcohol. Serve him within five minutes and have him eat it fast. Thank you.”

“
You want me un-drunk, sir?”

“
Go to the officers’ mess. They'll let you in. I'll meet you out there in ten minutes. You armed, Rafferty?”

“
Wouldn't go into the Boot if I weren't equipped for it, sir.”

“
Were you with anyone?”

“
Yessir. Senior Airshipman Duckworth. Second rigger on the
Shuffler
.”

“
Where is he now?”

“
Off the corner behind the bar. Keeping an eye on things. Sort of figured you'd assemble some men and go for her. That right, sir?”

“
That's damned right, Rafferty. Good job. Now go to the mess and sober the hell up,
fast
.”

“
Yessir. And you'll straighten me out with that sergeant, will you?”

“
I'm going to talk with his commanding officer. We're going into Dodge
right now
.”

Perry was reaching for uniform pants when he realized: The Boot District
was
off limits, and any Imperial officer would draw immediate attention long before he and the group reached wherever the Foster Arms was.

He changed it for a pair of
workman's trousers, glad he
did
have that set of civvies. A ruffed white shirt and, well, his uniform boots were plain-looking and as good as any. One of Fleming's aides had given him an automatic .40 in a shoulder-holster, telling him to get used to wearing it. He strapped that on, practiced drawing, threw on a black coat over that, and a cowboy hat he'd bought a while ago as a souvenir and never gotten around to taking to the apartment in Denver.

The phone rang again.

“Vice Perry.”

“
Sir, this is Captain Adrian. Response company, sir. You had an emergency in Dodge?”

“
Yes. Two things. One, I need transport there.
Now
.”

“
Checked that, sir. Oil train leaving in about ten minutes. Told them to hold for your party. And you'll want some of my men, I trust.”

“
Give me a platoon. Have them change into civilian clothes, and I need them
now
.”

“
Armed, sir?”

“
Of course I want them armed!” Perry thought for a minute. The Army captain was correct: rifles would get in the way and be overly visible.

“
You're mechanized infantry, correct?”