Defiant

6

''My comm's jammed,'' Jack muttered as he fired a two-round burst, ducked back, and got no answering fire. He knelt and peered out at knee level. No more fire from that room.

''Help me check these out,'' he said, cautiously entering the room. The cop and tech's bodies oozed blood and looked beyond hope. Two men in service uniforms, assault rifles close where they'd dropped them, lay just inside a back door. One moaned.

''Grab him and get out of here,'' Kris said. Jack picked up the rifle as they did. Outside, they made for the nearest exit… and ran into two cops running in. They handed off their load.

''Where's Bill?'' the tall cop demanded.

Jack shook his head.

''We've got to go in there,'' the tall cop insisted.

There was more automatic fire. Kris wanted to head back in, too. But not while she was outgunned and as disorganized as this. ''Penny, are you out?''

''We've evacuated the command center to the Hotel Brisbane's lobby. Can you rally here?''

''Do the local police have a SWAT force?''

''No.''

''National guard? Anybody with weapons like we're facing?''

There was a pause. ''No, Kris. Guy here says they don't have shit like this here.''

''They do now. Nelly, get me the Halsey.''

''Commander Santiago, here,'' took less than a second.

''Captain, we have a hostage situation.'' Kris quickly filled Santiago in. ''I need any individual and crew-served weapons you can spare, and people to train the locals on how to use them,'' she finished.

''Are you in a secure location?''

''No,'' Jack shouted over Kris's ''Yes.''

''I'm dispatching the gig to Brisbane to collect you, Princess. My orders are to keep you safe. You ain't just now. You can watch the situation from up here while it develops.''

''But the best time to intervene in this kind of a situation is while it's still developing,'' Kris pointed out.

''If you have trained troops who know what to do,'' Jack reminded Kris. ''We don't. Captain, she'll be at the airport.''

''See you there, Agent.''

Two hours later, a livid Kris stormed from the gig to the Halsey's Combat Information Center, the fighting heart of the destroyer. The CIC's walls were wrapped in workstations reporting the condition of the ship and space around it. In the middle was a battle board. There her captain sat, both elbows on a board that, instead of tracking space, pictured a small bit of ground dirtside.

''I'm here. What's developing down there?''

''Nothing since you left. One of the reasons I was hoping you would,'' Santiago said dryly.

''No more shooting?''

''Nothing from inside the building. The police have set up a cordon one block out, facing in. Another one two blocks farther out, facing out. They've about completed their evacuation. Not easy, considering they just closed down the heart of Brisbane's commercial district. They've got a call out to constabularies for three hundred kilometers around, and most of them are sending detachments, but, since this has never been done, and everyone's a bit nervous about their own backyard just now, things are going slow.''

''Could you drop some Marines on the roof and we take the terrorists down right now?''

''No, because my Marines would be dead before they hit the deck.''

Kris blinked and silently eyed the Captain.

''They've set up a radar on the roof. Docile little thing. Comes on every thirty seconds. Does a sweep. Always on the same frequency. Cuts off. Want to bet if we try to jam it or if it catches something coming in that it will take off frequency jumping and lead us in a merry chase? And they have jokers walking the building roof. What you want to bet me they have seeking missiles on their belts?''

''Have you tried to infiltrate nano recon bugs?''

The Captain scowled. ''You trying to teach your mother to suck eggs, Lieutenant? I sent them down on the gig that brought you up. First one burned thirty seconds after it got in. They phoned to say they'd shoot a hostage if we sent another one in.''

''Think they mean it?'' Kris asked.

''We don't know yet.''

''That a live picture of the building?'' Kris asked, pointing at an aerial of the convention center and deciding questions might make for an easier relationship with this destroyer skipper.

''Yes, I launched several satellites out of the Halsey's stores when this started. We'll have one continuously.''

''But we don't know what's going on inside,'' Kris grumbled.

''Not quite true,'' Penny said. ''Their jammer has closed down the center's comm net, but it has a range limit. We've got a woman inside just on the limit of that range. She's talking to us. Says they shot ten, twenty people taking over the main room. They have all the delegates down on the floor now. A couple of them appear to be rigging explosives to some of the hall's supports. Now they're rounding up the delegates, using plastic to cuff them together into groups of five or six. Oops, they just found our talker. No more news flashes from inside.''

''Are Tom and Aholo okay?'' Kris asked.

''She said Aholo was. I think Tom is, but she didn't really know him from Adam, so I'll just have to bite my nails. Kris, when are we going in and getting them out?''

''I need the design schematics of that building.''

''I've got people working on them. Okay, now there's action at the front door,'' Penny said.

Heads turned in CIC to a screen showing the local news take. A large Islander in a lavalava walked out of the convention center. Kris recognized him, Vea Ikale, principal adviser to the queen, and on this trip, to Aholo. Beside him was a woman in a business suit. Both held their hands up and their pace down. They got halfway to the street, say twenty meters. Then rifle fire from masked gunners at the door cut them down.

''Want to bet,'' Santiago said, ''the woman was our talker.''

A moment later, other hostages began bringing out bodies and laying them on the sidewalk a few feet from the center. A woman put hers down, stood looking at it for a moment, then broke for the street. She almost made it before rapid fire dropped her crumpled at the curb.

''What's their message? What do they want?'' Kris asked thin air.

''That is their message,'' Jack said. ''They aren't afraid to kill people in cold blood. They have the upper hand. They will tell us what they want us to know in their own damn time.''

''Can't argue with that.'' Santiago sighed, turning back to her board. ''Penny, we really need those building specs.''

''Maybe my contacts will work harder now.''

''Now that we understand each other, maybe this will be a whole lot easier,'' came in a confident voice from the news screen. Heads in the CIC turned back to it. The voice was young and very, very confident.

''We want a planetary government like everyone else has. A parliament, say with two hundred MPs. One man, one woman, one vote. Nothing special for Islanders. We're all just one big happy family. Maybe the parliament can even agree to have a queen. A constitutional queen. I don't mind having the naked tits of some Island cutie on my money. But no veto, no control.

''Now I heard that the folks here were authorized to vote on just such a government. Course, they are shy a few folks, the ones that fought us, and the ones that mouthed off when they shouldn't have. Talked on their phone when we told her not to. But the rest, they could vote that government in real fast. They do, and we'll all be out of here by evening.

''But I'm told that politicians can take forever to decide on the shape of the table they sit at, so I figure we better encourage them along. If they don't give us a constitution to vote on by, oh, say six tonight, we let three more walk out, see if they can make it to the street. At midnight, we let four try for the street. Who knows, in the dark, one of them just might make it. Come morning, we turn five loose. It just keeps getting bigger until we run out of delegates or the ones left give us a new constitution.

''Oh, and ladies and gentlemen, you, too, guys in skirts, those of you that resist doing your duty and giving us what we want, you'll be the first ones that get to take the walk.''

Kris shivered. That must have been spoken straight at the hostages. ''We got to get them out tonight,'' she said.

''That's exactly what they're expecting,'' Santiago snapped, shaking her head.

''Well, tomorrow night's not going to do a whole lot of people much good. How long before they decide Princess Aholo's a problem for them?''

''If she's been hanging around a Longknife, not long.''

''I've got the building files,'' Penny said, cutting that debate off. Santiago opened a separate window on her battle board and a 3-D schematic of the convention center began to rotate before them. ''The terrorists apparently drove into the receiving dock on the south end of the building. At least when we sent in reinforcements there during the fight, they got shot up badly, and the survivors reported seeing three trucks. We checked with the owners. They don't know why their trucks are there,'' Penny said.

''New employees?'' Kris asked.

''Yep. Checking them out, but the local database is light.''

''We don't have those kinds of problems here,'' Kris said.

''I'm hearing that enough down here, don't you start saying it,'' Penny grumbled.

''What about the rifle we captured?'' Kris asked Santiago. Rather than rely on the locals, she'd brought it up to the Halsey. The Captain tapped her board.

''The rifle is a cheap knockoff of the obsolete M-5,'' came a quick response. ''New Hong Kong has six or seven plants stamping them out to meet the rising demand. Ammo cassettes also appear to be from there. The serial number has been filed down, but we figure to recover it and match it to production in another half hour. Longer if it's not in our database.''

''Thanks, intel.''

''The Marines helped, ma'am.''

''Figured they would.'' Santiago smiled.

Kris absently tapped the board, opening a window, closing it, opening it… ''A fancy radar. Nano guards to beat our recon bugs. Weapons better than any seen on this rock…''

''You getting déjá vu all over again?'' Santiago asked.

''If these folks ain't got the banker of those bastards on Harmony, they got his sister's banker.'' Kris shook her head and made a judgment call. ''Nelly, get me Hank Peterwald.''

That got frowns from Jack and Santiago, but no one opened their mouth to argue with her.

''What do you want, Longknife?'' came a second later.

''You know about the situation in Brisbane?''

''Kind of hard to miss it. I heard you hotfooted it out of range real fast.''

Kris gritted her teeth for a second and breathed out the anger that snide remark brewed in her gut. Hank knew her enough to calculate just how much it would set her off. ''Yeah, you know how it is,'' she said, as offhanded as she could manage, ''the security types get you in a hammerlock, and next thing you know you're stuck watching it from the cheap seats.''

''Yeah, like on Turantic.''

''You must admit, I got you an interesting view.''

''From my own yacht. So, Longknife, why you calling me now?''

''Well, I couldn't help but notice that the terrorists are very well-equipped compared to what the local constabularies have, and someone had to pay to import all those expensive goodies. I thought maybe you, having talked to folks holding many of the same views as them, might know who's bankrolling them.''

''Who says they're terrorists? They sound like freedom fighters to me.''

''From where I was sitting, it didn't look like anyone needed to fight for anything until a few hours ago.''

''But you Longknifes are always sitting pretty.''

Beside Kris, Jack and Sandy were shaking their heads. Well, she had to try this route. ''So you're not going to help me.''

''Don't see any way I could, even if I should want to,'' came back at her.

''Well, just in case you might know someone who does know someone connected in any way to that crew, you might pass along to them that they have one of my officers in there. Obviously, he has no vote in Hikila's future. I will take it personally if any harm comes to him. Very, very personally.''

''And I should be quaking in my shoes, Longknife.''

''They should be,'' Kris said and cut the connection.

''Do you think they'll hurt Tom?'' Penny asked on net.

''I don't know.'' Kris sighed, wondering if she'd just helped… or sealed Tom's death warrant. ''We've got to get those people out. Tonight.''

Santiago scowled and reached for an overhead microphone. ''All hands, this is the Captain speaking. As you probably know by now, there's a situation on the planet below … and we've got our Longknife back aboard. She's about to make a call for volunteers for a heroic and near-suicidal rescue mission for tonight. I disagree. A better-planned and less bloody one can be put together for tomorrow night. As your Captain, I strongly discourage you from responding to a request I can not prevent Princess Kristine from making.'' So saying, the Captain handed the mike to Kris.

Kris juggled the mike for a second, wondering how even a Longknife followed an intro like that.

She keyed the mike. ''There are five hundred hostages below. The terrorists have already murdered a number of them. At six and midnight, they'll kill three and four more. I say they get those seven and no more. I need nine volunteers for a drop mission to go with me tonight. If I can't get nine, then we do it your skipper's way, plan it all the way, practice it through, do it up right. And let twenty-six more innocents die. Your call. Eight and I don't go. Nine and we give it a serious look-see.''

''Well, if you're really desperate,'' came from the open hatch of the CIC where Abby leaned against it, ''I guess I could be talked into trying a drop mission. How do you open a parachute?''

''I'm sure you already know,'' Jack said dryly.

''Count me in,'' came from Penny. ''You can get some intel weenie down here to hold these people's hands. I'm going in after Tom.''

''Penny, have you ever made a drop?''

''Once. In training. It can't be too hard if your maid can do it.''

''She's only coming along in case I break a nail,'' Kris said.

''Or your neck,'' Abby added.

Santiago looked like she was about to ground them all when Sergeant Li appeared at the CIC hatch. Her ''Sergeant?'' was less than half question, much more an accusation that stopped just this side of mutiny charges.

''Begging the Captain's pardon, but if she doesn't have any immediate need for several members of the Marine detachment this evening, we respectfully request permission to accompany Princess Longknife on her little trip dirtside. Ma'am.''

The Captain shook her head. ''Longknifes,'' she spat. ''Well, how many of my Marines are you going to drag along in your wake? You're not really taking your maid, are you?''

Kris eyed the putative body servant. ''Likely I will. With Jack, that makes four of my crazies. If I could, I'd appreciate borrowing six of your hard cases and heartbreakers.''

The Sergeant grinned broadly. The Captain's scowl got deeper. ''I ought to clap you all in irons, slap you in my brig, and call for a psych workup on the lot of you, but I'll delay any effort to apply adult leadership to you juvenile delinquents until I hear your rescue plan.''

''Nice of you,'' Kris said and signaled Jack, Sergeant Li and, for good measure, Abby, to settle down around the battle board and study the Convention Center layout.

''Captain,'' Kris said slowly, ''if you wouldn't mind dropping a longboat down to Brisbane full of standoff sensors and techs to use them, with firm orders to stand off and not get involved.''

''Very firm orders,'' Santiago said.

''And if you could have the longboat fly by the convention center at seven thousand meters aboveground and five klicks offset.''

''That radar would pick up troops making a drop.''

''In full combat gear, I agree,'' Kris said.

''And I'll ride the longboat up,'' Penny said.

''No,'' Kris said. ''I need you at the command center, pulling what strings you've got. There'll be another longboat along next orbit. And the next one. I promise.''

Santiago rubbed her chin and said nothing.

And one of Penny's strings yielded a surprising fish. ''Kris, remember that gunman you lugged out of the center?''

''Yes.''

''His girlfriend showed up at the hospital, with another girl. Both are talking to our women cops there. They're singing like two very worried canaries.''

''What do they know?''

''A lot. These jokers may have all kinds of fancy toys, but professional they ain't. And they like to brag a lot in their pillow talk. These girls are terrified because you got out. They figure you're going to come back down here and stomp heads, slit throats, be really pissed.''

''Somebody's been reading too many comics,'' Santiago growled.

''Anyway, they're willing to do anything to get on your nice side so you'll go easy on their boys. And they want you to know they weren't after you. It was your grampa they really wanted.''

''My grampa!''

''You heard right. With Queen Ha'iku'lani dying, they figured King Ray would come charging out here, order everyone to show up, and then dictate a new world order for Hikila for his old war buddy's grandkid. They figured on killing him and taking down an old war hero and freeing the universe from the real dictator.''

''Good Lord, what have they been smoking?'' Kris breathed.

''The girls swear that's true. And I think they believe it.''

''Even if they do believe it, is that really what's going on down there?'' Santiago said.

''And if that was what they thought two weeks ago, why'd they do what they did today?'' Kris shook her head slowly. ''No matter how confused their motivation is, they still have a lot of guns. They're killing people and, if I have any say, they stop doing it tonight. Penny, is there anyone down there who can step up to the plate as a SWAT team?''

''A couple of police departments back in the mountains have high-risk rescue teams. Some of their members also double as their rifle marksman squad. Get me some armored suits and M-6s down here, two, three specialists to train them, and some time, and I think they could be ready.''

''For tonight?''

''Maybe. Tomorrow night more likely.''

Santiago's scowl had an upward quirk as she raised an eyebrow. ''I'll have my spare suits and rifles added to the next long boat going down.''

Kris eyed the battle board. ''Now, where do we peel this Convention Center? Anyone downside see any way directly in to the hostages?''

''No,'' Penny said. ''We've set up a camera on the hotel roof to cover the center. The four shooters they have up on the roof look to be in full body armor, with ceramics. That has to be as good as anything our Marines have got. Maybe better.''

Sergeant Li said something obscene under his breath.

''Assuming you got control of the roof,'' Penny said, ''blowing holes in the ceiling and either shooting the terrorists or rappelling down into the hall doesn't look fast enough to stop them from blowing their explosives. We need more time to look things over with heat sensors, but that's my first call for now.''

''What about the receiving dock on the south side of the building?'' Jack asked.

''No access from the main roof, so any detachment that goes there is on its own. And we've already taken heavy fire from what they have defending that end. I don't recommend it.''

''Do you recommend anything?'' the captain asked.

Penny was silent for a long while. ''Not really.''

''Well, assuming we occupy the main roof,'' Kris said, ''how do we get inside?'' Kris ignored Santiago rolling her eyes.

''There are four accesses to the roof. Along the east side, there are two stairwells that take you down to the top level of breakout rooms.''

''They'll be booby-trapped,'' Santiago said, ''and exit from the stairwells is easily covered by fire teams here in the top-level gathering area; they also can cover the middle-level access to where the hostages are. Two fire lanes toward two threats. Bound to be well-covered.''

''So we don't use them,'' Kris said. ''Penny, you said there were four stairs. The two others are…''

''On the west side of the building, leading down into the building service and support area above the lowest level of breakout rooms. That's where they have the electrical, air-conditioning, heating, that sort of stuff.''

''These folks don't strike me as the type to leave if we mess up the bathrooms,'' Abby said.

''I don't think they're letting the hostages take bathroom breaks,'' Penny reported.

Commander Santiago gave them a look.

Jack just shook his head as if to say, ''You don't really want to know.''

''Sounds like these stairs will be booby-trapped and well covered,'' Kris said.

''I'd expect that. Heat may give us better info later.''

''So…'' the Captain began. Hand up, she raised one finger. ''You can't make a standard drop because they have radar to lock on to your armored suits and pick you off as you drop. Two…'' another finger came up. ''If you get on the roof, they're in full armor, and the M-6 will be as like to bounce off them as shatter their ceramics. Three''—another finger—''even if you get control of the roof, you can't get off it. Excuse me, Princess, but I think your pumpkin is staying home tonight. No fairy godmother.''

Kris had nodded as each digit came up. She reached across and gently folded one of the Captain's fingers back into her fist. ''So we don't do a normal drop mission. We don't use the usual stairs,'' she said, folding a second one. ''And do you have any of those dandy new M-6A4s?'' she asked as she half folded the last one.

''Where'd you hear about the A4s?'' Santiago asked.

''I read a lot.'' Kris shrugged.

''There are four targets on the roof, I'll think about loaning you four. You still haven't persuaded me you can do anything. Keep talking, Longknife.''

Kris tapped a vent on the building. ''This leads down to the fast-food kitchens. I plan to enter the building down it.''

Santiago zoomed in on the air exhaust. ''It's only a half meter square, and it doesn't go all the way down. Even if it did, you couldn't get battle armor down that.''

''Don't plan to go all the way down. Abby, you ever use a hand laser or welding torch?''

''Had to use a welding torch to fix my employer's jewelry.''

Jack just shook his head.

''Would you happen to have one handy?'' Kris said as she followed the exhaust's plunge down until it shared a support with an air-conditioning duct of equal size. ''Think you could cut us a hole from the exhaust to the duct?''

''Easily, ma'am. I'll even anneal the edges so no one can scratch themselves.''

''You are not taking my Marines bare-ass naked down that air vent. Not against terrorists with fully automatic weapons and ceramic body armor,'' Santiago announced in full-force Captain. Even Sergeant Li looked a bit pale.

''Don't worry, Sergeant. You won't be totally bare-ass naked,'' Kris said. ''Abby, just how many of those body stockings did you get on sale?''

''They were selling them by the dozen, ma'am. I bought two.''

''Body stockings?'' The Marine gulped.

Jack pulled his up above the collar of his shirt. You could easily see his fingers through it.

''I warned you, Sergeant. Longknifes!'' Santiago spat.

''Abby, you have a knife on you?'' Abby nodded. ''Stab Jack somewhere he's got his stocking on.''

''It's full body,'' Jack drawled without looking back.

Abby produced a knife from nowhere and stabbed Jack full in the back. He grunted as he leaned forward to absorb the blow. ''You didn't have to do it that hard.''

''Princess here didn't say how hard, and I've been wanting to do that for oh so long.''

''Sergeant, take Abby's knife and stab her anywhere you have a hankering,'' Kris said. He took the knife and went for the gut.

''Is that any way to treat a lady?''

''I don't see any here,'' Santiago drawled. ''Okay, so you have some Super Spider Silk undies. I've got some chutes that don't give back a radar bounce. M-6s are mainly plastic, and what isn't we can tape. I imagine you only want Marines that will fit down a half-meter hole, so I get to keep the big mean ones, Sergeant.''

''Yes, ma'am,'' Sergeant Li responded, still looking a bit unsure about leading a squad of Marines dirtside in translucent underwear.

''And Abby will provide you with black body paint that ought to meet the modest requirements of the corps,'' Kris said.

''If you ask me real nice,'' the maid added.

Shortly after midnight, liberty launch 2 departed the Halsey. Intended to carry the ship's official car dirtside, its rear opened. The manual said it could open in flight. This would be the first time this crew ever attempted that maneuver. They were optimistic it would cause them no problems.

Kris hated optimists on a drop mission.

Santiago had granted them the loan of four M-6A4s. Rather than fire the 4 mm standard carbon steel darts from a spool, these shot 2 mm tungsten flechettes, twice as long as the normal round and with twice the normal load behind them. No sleepy darts for those who put on ceramic armor.

Just who got to use them had been decided at the Marines' shooting range. The Sergeant had shot a near perfect score first, followed by Jack matching him. The other nine who could fit down a half-meter exhaust duct shot next. All did well except one fellow who got razzed bad when he shot his worst in six months.

Kris shot last. And shot between Jack and the next-best Marine. That surprised her. Then Abby surprised them all by stepping up to the next firing slot and picking up an M-6.

''Where do you load this thing?'' A Marine showed her.

She shot one round. Missed high and outside. ''Need to sight this thing in.'' A smiling Marine showed her how. She made an adjustment. The next round was in the center. So were the next eight. ''Am I doing as good as you, Jack?''

''Better. I had a round that edged into the nine ring.''

Abby's next round nudged the nine.

Behind Kris there was murmuring in the Marine ranks. ''Even a Longknife's maid's got to shoot as good as a Marine.''

''As good as a Marine Sergeant,'' another corrected.

When the liberty launch dropped its rear ramp, Kris and Abby, Jack and Sergeant Li led off with the M-6A4s. Penny jumped with the other Marines. The last two out were the combat engineer and his assistant, carrying loads that, hopefully, the radar would be turned off before it got too strong a return from.

Free-falling at eight thousand meters was cold. Not as cold as Kris expected it to be. The body stocking did nothing to stop the freezing air, as Kris had learned on Turantic. But tonight, Abby had outdone herself. Ceramic girdles protected guts and butts and what the guys considered most important. Gauntlets and leggings reinforced arms and legs. Abby even had something for chests and backs that she claimed she got at an after-Christmas sale at a toy store. They were round and glided nicely. The Halsey's stores provided tape that should absorb enough of their radar signal for them to get close before any alarm went off.

They'd know in a few moments.

The sapper and assistant pulled their D rings first, opening their chutes and beginning a slow, circling decent. They would have a minute to hang in the air. If things went bad on the roof, they could aim themselves away from the disaster.

Penny and the other Marines waited longer, then opened their chutes next, planning on coming in a mere fifteen seconds behind Kris and the leaders.

''They've finished their comm check,'' came from the Halsey's intel boss, now at Penny's place in the police incident command center. ''You have fifteen minutes before they call them again.''

Kris didn't answer. She was three hundred meters above the ground as she opened her chute. She had just enough time to stabilize her canopy, spot her target on the roof turning away from her, and pull up her rifle.

She aimed for the weak spot at the neck between the helmet and back, easier to hit from this angle. ''Ready,'' she said.

''One.'' ''Two.'' ''Three,'' came back to her.

''Shoot.''

Her target crumpled as she fired, riding the trigger to let more rounds go as she moved her aim up to the helmet. It shattered under her stream of darts. Maybe the armor wasn't as good as advertised.

A quick glance around showed her no one still standing on the roof. Kris let her rifle drop by its sling, got her hands back on her controls, and tried to aim her chute for a nice, soft, walkaway landing.

An updraft off the cooling building spoiled that, or maybe it was the concrete below. Part of her canopy lost lift early. She ended up standing on the edge of the roof, half her chute with her, half trying to drag her over the side. With an effort she tumbled awkwardly onto the roof's gravel floor and lay there, struggling with her lanyards until Jack trotted up.

''You want a hand?'' he said, grabbing a fistful of line.

''I don't know that I'd applaud that landing,'' Abby said, joining them and hauling the canopy up where they wanted it.

''Even out on a cold night, all a girl finds is critics,'' Kris said. She'd caught a glance of her handiwork lying in blood. It was better to laugh at this than think of that.

Out of the night, a chute came down. The Marine was out of it in a second and racing for the radar. She nodded happily and plugged a black box into it. If the codes were right, the radar would only make happy noises from now on, no matter what it saw.

Penny was also out of her chute, riffling through a downed roof lookout and muttering to her commlink. ''We got the comm codes for them. They did have rockets, but they're really stupid SAL-9s. Any kind of countermeasures should take care of them. Nothing on the explosives frequency though.''

''Appreciate what you gave us. Dump those rockets over the side, please. No use the skipper having to face them if, you know, you screw up tonight.''

''We understand,'' Kris said as Jack helped her up.

''You kind of rubbed your black paint off your ass,'' Abby told her cheerfully. ''I didn't bring along any spare paint.''

''I'll just have to keep my enemy in front of me,'' Kris said, trotting to the airshaft. The sapper cut off the lock and lifted off the cowling. Abby rummaged in his bag of tricks, pulled out her own smaller bag, slipped into a harness, and got ready to go into the shaft as they snubbed down her line to a nearby air-conditioning unit. Ready, Abby went in with professional panache, then waited for a second while the sapper put a bit of armored cloth between her line and the sharp edge of the shaft. Then she dropped. The sapper shined a laser range finder over her shoulder. He blinked it, and she stopped.

A second later, light showed from her torch. Warm air, then cooler air came up the shaft. ''We've struck air conditioning,'' the Marine combat engineer said. The torch lasted a bit longer, followed by the sound of metal bending and tape ripping. ''She sure is a professional. Asked me for tape to take care of the sharp metal ends.''

''Professional, yeah,'' Jack muttered. ''I just wonder at what?'' Kris could feel the Marines' curious stares in the dark.

She'd gotten into harness while watching this. When Abby's line went slack, Kris did a somewhat less graceful repeat of her maid's drop, carrying Abby's rifles and grenade load.

Abby's harness and line passed her on the way up as she came down. She snaked herself into the air duct, passed a rifle to Abby, and wiggled out of her harness while Jack came down. By the time Kris was ready to move forward, Abby was in a larger section of air duct, at a vent.

''Want out of here?'' she mouthed to Kris in the dim light from the grille.

Kris shook her head. There could be cameras out there. Or trip wires. Or terrorists walking around. Since they started checking out the center with the heat sensors this afternoon, no one had gone near the air-conditioning vents.

Or was that because they'd already done them?

Kris paused as that thought kicked the tire of her plan … and air leaked out. What had those two guys they'd shot this morning been up to? She signaled Jack to hold.

''Get nanos down here,'' she ordered.

A minute later, they released the nano scouts. Another minute more, and they had identified four trip wires to something.

''Abby, open the vent,'' and out they went. Penny knew where their own cameras were. They sent out their own nano scouts to search, report back, not destroy. Not so much as breathe.

Slowly, they began a zigzag course through the meeting rooms that brought them up, a hundred meters from the door that led into the exhibit hall that held the hostages a good five minutes before the next comm check with the roof.

Problem was, covering that last hundred meters.

Directly ahead of them in the central gathering area, several tables had been upended. Behind them, heat signatures showed four terrorists asleep. Two were seated in chairs at a table playing cards and glancing every once in a while at security camera feeds or at the wide corridor where Kris and her team lurked in the darker shadows.

Two hundred meters to Kris's left, above a twenty-meter wall, was the upper level. Along its rail, eight rifles showed. Maybe the terrorists behind them were awake. Maybe they slept. No telling from this angle. From the heat intel, Kris knew that there were tables on their sides up there and more shooters. That was why she was down here.

Two hundred meters to Kris's right was a drop down to the lower level. There were gunners there and a whole lot more trouble that would come running up here and hit her from behind, but all hell would have to break loose before she'd have to deal with them.

The sapper signaled the meeting room beside them was safe. Kris handed off her M-6A4 to a corporal, the next-best shooter, and took his M-6. The Sergeant signaled him and a private to hold this area, and Kris entered the meeting room, crossed it quickly, then waited while the engineer crawled across the way to check the next one. Since that put him in full view of the two card players, everyone quit breathing for a while, then quit breathing some more as they did their own trip.

But the card players played on, undisturbed.

That move, with a zig through a service area, brought Kris and her team to an almost unnoticeable workers' access door right next to the wall. A hundred yards away was another one of those small doors that the public ignores but workers put to good use.

Here was the problem she had never solved. If she ran for the door, they'd mow her crew down. If she fought her way there, they'd have time to blow the hostages a dozen times over.

Kris took a deep breath. ''Command center, Regal is at Alpha. I would appreciate that demonstration.'' Hopefully the SWAT teams in their battle suits could distract the upper and lower hall terrorists enough. Kris had learned at OCS that hope was not a plan, but hope was all she had just now.

''Slight change in plans,'' came on net in Santiago's voice. ''Zodiac landers 1 and 2 will engage the hostiles in five seconds, three, two, one.''

There was a crashing noise of glass, metal, and whatever else might exist under God's heaven. ''Weapons free,'' Kris shouted.

''Go, go, go,'' she waved at her team as Abby took off sprinting for the door across the way, a Marine right behind her. Penny and Kris on their heels.

Jack and the Sergeant took a second to drop the card players, then a second more to get two sleeping beauties that reached for their guns instead of keeping on sleeping.

Kris wondered, as she sprinted, if she should worry about what was happening above her, but then a body plummeted from up there and she decided maybe the Halsey and all that noise was taking care of that.

Ahead of her, Abby slowed to let the Marine take the door for her, roll through it, and shout ''Hostages, stay down.''

Abby raced through the open door, shot, hopped over the Marine, dropped, rolled, fired again, then repeated the process.

Kris slammed to a halt at the door, her rifle ready. Someone was up, firing at the space above where Abby was rolling.

Kris fired a long burst. The first few rounds to shatter ceramics. The later ones to do their worst. They did. Her target went down.

Penny went through the door without slowing down, headed for the explosive charges along the wall, and started yanking exposed antennas, detonators, whatever looked like it might stop the boom. Since any one of the packets could go boom in her face as she raced by, Kris could only admire the courage of a woman fighting for her bridegroom's life.

Someone across the room raised a rifle, aimed at Penny. Kris fired a long burst. The rifle went one way, the gunner rolled another way and lay still.

''Tom, stay down,'' Kris ordered. ''Where are the terrorists?''

A familiar figure elbowed himself up to look around. ''I think you have most of them. Four bolted for the back exit.'' He nodded to where a door was wide open in the south wall.

''Command center,'' Kris called on net, ''Look for four terrorists attempting to escape from the loading dock.''

''We have their van in our sights. They won't get out of the parking lot.''

Beside Kris, the sapper came through the door, took in what Penny had done, nodded, and headed for the opposite wall and its charged explosives. Kris would be writing a lot of medal recommendations for this night.

''Could we start moving these people out to safety?'' Princess Aholo called from where she lay between Tom and, yep, there was Sam. Kris signaled for Abby and all available Marines to form on her as she trotted to the Island princess.

''At the moment, Aholo, this may be the safest place in town,'' was backed up by a burst of automatic weapons fire from outside. ''We're working on securing the rest of the building, but…'' Kris left the rest unsaid.

''Can I talk to Grandmama?''

KRIS, I HAVE HELD A CIRCUIT OPEN FOR HER, BUT THERE'S A PROBLEM. Kris found herself put through to Dr. Kapa'a‘ola.

QUEEN HA'IKU'LANI TOOK THE NEWS OF THE HOSTAGE SITUATION WELL. SHE SMILED A MOMENT AGO, WHEN WE TOLD HER THE PRINCESS WAS SAFE, THEN GOT A QUEER LOOK ON HER FACE AND TOLD US SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS HAVING ANOTHER STROKE. WE'RE TESTING FOR IT, BUT WE WON'T KNOW FOR A WHILE. COULD YOU GET AHOLO HOME…FAST?

''Better yet,'' Kris told Aholo, ''there's a shuttle at the airport, we'll get you to her within the hour.''

''What's wrong?'' The girl went pale beneath her tattoos.

Kris swallowed several lies … and told Aholo the truth. A murmur ran through the hall. Sam tried to hug Aholo, but the plastic restraints had them cuffed to each other in circles of five or six facing out. No hugging allowed. Abby produced a knife and started cutting them loose. Now Sam was hugging a softly crying Aholo, and Penny was hugging Tom, and Kris didn't care who was crying there. She spotted Sergeant Li.

''Sergeant, secure this area. Don't let anything happen to that princess. Jack, you're with me.'' Abby handed off her knife and fell in step with them as they headed for the common area.

Rifles at the ready, they crossed back into what had been a shooting gallery. It looked quiet for the moment. Kris hunched down, prepared for appearances to be deceiving. ''Captain Santiago, you available on net and have a second to chat?''

There was a series of grenade explosions from the upper level. ''Now I do. What's happening?''

Kris filled her in. There was a pause when she was done. ''Liberty launch 2 could do a suborbital to drop you into Nui Nui in thirty minutes. We'll have to send the gig down to refuel it, but no problem.''

''Captain, I'd like to thank you for the support here, and I'd be honored if you'd accompany us to Nui Nui.''

''Glad to back up a well-ordered plan, Lieutenant Longknife. And I'd be honored to go with you. Ensign Konti, police up this area, cooperate with the local officials to the maximum possible, and see that the Marines don't break anything more.''

''Yes ma'am,'' came over the net.

Kris remembered being the Boot Ensign and getting those orders. She hoped Konti enjoyed them as much she had. Back in the hall, the hostages were milling around. To soft cheers, Kris announced that their building was now safe, and they'd be going in just a moment. But one man righted a table and climbed atop it.

''Hold it, hold it. Queen Ha'iku'lani is dying, murdered as much by these … unspeakables … as any of our colleagues who were gunned down.'' He looked around at the former hostages. ''I don't know about you, but I came here with a pretty good idea of what we really needed to do. No expectation that we could do it. No idea how we'd get the will to do it. You know what I mean?''

A lot of heads nodded.

''Well, I'm mad. I'm mad at having a gun shoved in my face. I'm mad at seeing my friends murdered. I'm even mad at seeing Islanders I've argued with for twenty years gunned down. I say we came here to do a job. I say we do it. I've got proposals, ideas for how to reorganize Hikila over there in my computer.'' He pointed at a collection of personal effects like wallets, purses, and computers dumped in a corner. ''I bet a lot of you do.''

''You bet.'' ''Of course.'' ''Who doesn't,'' answered him.

''Let's give Queen Ha'iku'lani a burial gift the likes our ancestors will be praising long after we're gone.''

''Can we at least go to the bathroom?'' came plaintively.

''And order in some food.''

''Fifteen minutes,'' the guy said. ''A real fifteen-minute break,'' he insisted.

Aholo shook her head. ''That man has no idea what the line will be like at the ladies' room.''

''Who is he?''

''He's the mayor of Brisbane,'' Sam told them. ''But my dad's right there with him, and he was cuffed to two of your chief adviser's, Aholo, and I saw them talking. I think this is real.''

''You are coming with us,'' Aholo said to Sam.

''I'm not leaving your side. Ever.''

And when the kids asked how Mommy and Daddy met, Kris could just imagine the story.

THERE ARE POLICE CARS WAITING TO TAKE US TO THE AIRPORT, Nelly said. Kris formed her Marines to escort the princess one last time.

''Nelly, you remember those tattoos you put me in of Pacific Island warriors?'' Kris said.

''Yes, I do. They were quite fierce.''

''Think you could turn our black camouflage paint to that?'' Kris asked, a grin spreading across her face.

''You bet,'' Nelly said, and a wave passed down the line of Kris's rescue team. As they made their way gingerly around the wreckage the Zodiac lander had made of the west entrance, the media lights came on to show Princess Aholo on the arms of two attractive young men and escorted by the most ferocious bunch of practically naked tattooed Island warriors, rifles at the ready. All except one. Kris's fierceness was somewhat spoiled by her cute bunny white tail.

Liberty launch 2 ran itself right up onto the beach before it popped its hatch. A cart was waiting for them, and in less than an hour from the last shot, Aholo and Kris's team, Santiago included, were in the queen's presence.

''Is this Sam?'' was the queen's first question.

''This is the one, Grandmama,'' Aholo said, putting her hand in her great-grandmother's.

With an effort, the old woman reached across with her other hand to take the young man's hand and pulled it forward to rest on Aholo's. ''May the sun and the sea smile upon the two of you and your children,'' she said, then lay back exhausted.

The two youths knelt beside her bed, young hands in hands, resting on the withered parchment of a hand that had seen so much of human history.

''And you, Princess Longknife, you have found your warrior's face, I see,'' the queen said, rousing herself. Kris knelt by the other side of the bed and took that ancient hand. But the queen squinted into the shadows. Kris wondered what she sought.

''Aren't you a Santiago?'' the queen whispered.

''Sandy Santiago. I skipper the Halsey,'' its Captain said as she came to kneel beside Kris.

''Oh, good. So Kris has found a Santiago to save her ass. With a good person like you to cover her back, maybe she'll live to be as old as that rascal Ray.''

''I'll see what I can do,'' Sandy said in promise.

The eyes closed. The breathing slowed and became irregular. The wrinkled hands would have collapsed back onto the bed were they not held by loving hands on both sides.

KRIS, I AM GETTING A CALL FROM THE MAYOR OF STANLEY. THEY HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GET A CALL THROUGH TO THE QUEEN, BUT THE DOCTOR WILL NOT PUT THEM THROUGH. HE SAYS HE THINKS HA'IKU'LANI WILL DIE HAPPY IF SHE HEARS THIS.

''Your Majesty, can you hear me?'' Kris whispered.

There was a fluttering of eyelids.

''We freed the hostages, but the delegates insisted on staying to do what they came to do, giving Hikila a new government, one that will last.'' Was that a smile adding to the lines on the old woman's face?

''Would you like to hear what they have done?'' Behind Aholo, the doctor was waving, No, no. Eyelids seemed to flutter Yes.

Kris raised an eyebrow and a question to Aholo. Tears ran down the princess's face as she nodded. NELLY, PUT THEM THROUGH.

''Your Highness,'' the mayor of Brisbane began softly and without preamble, ''we assembled here are proud to present you with a first draft of our efforts. There will be many devils to tame in the details, but we propose to structure our government around ports. Thirty ports in the Islands and seventy on the Mainland. We will have two bodies in our legislature. The House will be elected based on population, but each port will have at least one representative. The Senate will have two people elected from each port and must approve all important votes by 60 percent.

''We recognize that such a distribution does not guarantee that the Islands can block something they strongly oppose. We have agreed to give the queen a veto of any legislation that she thinks goes to the heart of the Island culture for twenty years. A mere majority vote can continue that veto in twenty-year increments. We hope this meets your wishes.''

Aholo squeezed Sam's hand and her queen's. ''I doubt that I will ever have need of exercising that authority,'' she whispered, her voice choked her with contesting emotions.

The smile seemed to deepen, but then the mouth fell open, and it was clear that the deathwatch had begun.

''The queen, my mother's grandmother, smiles her thanks, but now I beg you leave us to a very private time.''

The Brisbane Constitutional Assembly bowed off-line with expressions of sympathy. Kris watched Aholo for a sign that she was included in that dismissal, but none came. Her own father's grandfather had sent her here to hold a war buddy's hand.

God knew, Kris had killed men and women in the last year. She'd watched the results of what she'd done and, while it turned her stomach, she regretted none of it.

But this was different. Old and failing, still the queen's body refused to give up the fight for each breath, each heartbeat. Kris found herself wanting to refuse the finality of this, to order the doctor forward, to do something, anything.

Through it all, Aholo knelt there, tears softly making their way down her cheeks. Finally, she bent to kiss a cheek. ''Go, Grandmama. Go to the sea where the wind is always fair and the sun never fails.''

The funeral was the next day, with all local Islanders in attendance. The funeral bier was Afa's canoe. Since the tradition of just setting the body to drift on the sea tended to draw sharks, the Islanders had borrowed a page from another book and included firewood on the canoe. They fired it as it drifted out of the lagoon and let it burn.

The queen's head, of course, was handed over to the elder women for honors. On the anniversary of her death, Queen Aholo would install it with her own hands in the niche reserved for it in the Long House.

Kris did attend the coronation of Queen Ha'iku'aholo … both coronations. One at Nui Nui and a second at Port Brisbane before the Constitutional Assembly, where there were still demons of various size and nastiness being wrestled to the ground and dehorned. It was agreed that the vote to approve the new constitution and join United Sentients would be on the same ballot.

Kris attended the coronations as a representative of United Sentients, in dress whites. She found herself looking at the Islanders longingly and pulling on her choke collar more than once. She was also there when Queen Aholo explained to Sam's dad that the simple blessing that her grandmama had passed over them was all that was needed for a wedding among the Islanders.

Aholo demonstrated superb diplomacy when she had a more traditional Mainland wedding appended to her Mainland coronation. There wasn't a dry eye in the Brisbane Convention Center, the only place large enough to hold the show.

There being something contagious about weddings, before Aholo's, Kris found herself with Afa explaining to the young man that she really appreciated his offer to move with her to the Big Island and accept her as a business partner, but she really wasn't prepared, just now, to marry him… ''or anyone else.''

''My good name is slandered on Wardhaven. I have to return to face those charges,'' Kris reminded him.

''Maybe you'll come back then.''

She left it at that.

The voyage back to Wardhaven was almost fun. The Halsey's crew was in full celebration mode. Clearly, they ruled. Their time, from drop to last shot, if you started the clock from when the Zodiacs hit, had to be the best, rated per dead terrorist body, that anyone had done in eighty years. And since it had been a Navy and Marine team, the whole crew was riding high.

Kris got the skipper's approval on the scope and range of her medal proposals before she had Nelly start the write-ups, then when Nelly finished so well, and so soon, offered to have Nelly pitch in on the rest. Kris had yet to meet a Naval officer who enjoyed paperwork, so it was no surprise when Sandy jumped at the help.

That left them more time to join in the wardroom talks over coffee. Now, nothing was off limits, and all topics were fun.

But Kris saved the most tactful one for a drop by the captain's private cabin. ''Why'd you chose to back me up?''

Sandy put aside a reader. ''You had a good plan.''

''I had a good plan when I left the ship. Why did you wait to back me up until I was standing there at the gate of hell?''

The Halsey's skipper took in a deep breath and blew it out. ''Because I needed to see if you were just good at shoving my sailors out there onto the tip of the spear or if you'd be out there yourself, leading the way. You may have noticed lots of people can talk the talk. Don't meet many who match it with the walk, do you?''

''No,'' Kris agreed. ''But it sure would have saved me a bit of tummy lining if I'd known you were coming. Might have had Abby bake you a cake.''

''With what in it? Who is that woman?''

Kris shrugged.

''And besides, who says I'm supposed to worry about your stomach ulcer? As I recall, my great-grandpappy didn't give yours much warning before he walked off with that bomb for President Urm. You big people got to realize that you aren't the only ones making plans. Us little folks make plans, too. And sometimes we are going to surprise you.''

''You came up with one hell of a learning experience.''

''Well, you are one of those Longknifes. Anything gentler, and it would have gone right by you.''

Kris chose not to argue that point as Sandy dug in her desk drawer. ''I have something here for you.'' She handed Kris a paper form. It was a reference for an application to the Academy. ''I told you my daughter's applying this year.''

Kris nodded.

''I also told you that I didn't want her getting another reference from Ray. Two generations was enough. It was time for a change.''

Again Kris nodded.

''I would be honored if you would provide my daughter with a reference. A new generation deserves a new generation.''

Kris could think of several replies. She didn't know the girl, but then neither did Grampa Ray. Grampa Ray was a king. Kris was just a Lieutenant. But Santiago knew that. And knowing it, she wanted Kris to sponsor her daughter. Kris replayed that last sentence and wasn't sure which ''new generation'' deserved who. ''I'd be honored, Captain.''

The last jump brought news from Wardhaven. Kris's plea for help from Olympia had brought it forth in legion measure. Ester Saddik hit the talk shows the night her ship docked. For those who liked their explanations full and complete, Ester, Kris's first Olympia employee, gave them in her calm, pleasant voice, backed up by the warehouse foreman, that nice Quaker, Jeb Salinski.

For those who preferred their input loud and contentious, Ester turned loose rancher Brandon Anderson and farmer Jason McDowell. Those two still had enough anger in them to scorch carbon steel. What they did to Lieutenant Pearson on the one show where she showed up to explain that her procedures for documenting the release of food aid were simple and easily applied left the woman and her rules hanging in shreds. And 3/c Spens, Kris's stand-in accountant, had managed to arrange his discharge on Olympia… there was a local girl involved. He did an amazing job of holding people's interest as he walked them through his simple accounting system for tracking aid, and Kris's just-released tax return for last year.

The opposition was on the ropes when suddenly it was found that the charges were technically in error, and therefore, based on that technicality, had to be dismissed.

''Does that technically mean I no longer work for a criminal?'' Abby asked.

''I guess so. That make you feel better?''

Abby seemed blasé. But Kris arrived at High Wardhaven feeling pretty upbeat. As she saluted and led her small detachment across the gangplank of the Halsey, she asked Nelly to check on where her family was. Quickly, her computer ran down most everyone's present location, finishing with ''…and your mother is at Madame Bovaine's Bridal Boutique.''

''What's she doing there?''

''Kris, Penny, do you mind if I go check on the 109?'' Tom asked. Kris waved him away. Penny looked like she'd rather follow him, but she waited for Nelly's answer, dread pouring off her like disease off a swamp.

''She appears to be with Penny's mother.''

''Jack, Abby, you're with me. Somehow we have to save Penny from my mother.''

''Are we allowed to use deadly force?'' Abby asked.

Jack shook his head dolefully.

Kris rode the beanstalk down, her gut in more of an uproar than it had ever been when she was going out to rescue Tom or recon Turantic. It hadn't been this bad riding down to tackle the terrorists on Hikila when she had no idea how she'd cross the last one hundred meters under deadly fire.

No. This involved Mother. Death was not an option.

They flagged a taxi. The driver took one look at them and looked like he'd rather take any other fare, but he drove them to Madame Bovaine's Bridal Boutique. ''Wait here,'' Kris ordered. ''We won't be long.''

''I hope,'' Penny whispered.

Kris led her team in a quick march through the front doors. They advanced five paces into the store and froze.

Mother was looking at a wedding gown.

It was white, so it had to be a wedding gown. It had no veil, but a large floppy hat half covered the model's face, as well she should want it. There was a front to the gown. And a back. No sides. The model was wearing white stockings and a white garter belt. No bra. No panties. Whatever borrowed or blue she had was right out there for all to see.

''Mother, Penny is not wearing something like that.''

''Oh, hello, Kristine darling, I was wondering when you might be back. But I was just telling Pamela here that it is all the rage in Paris this year.''

''Paula,'' Penny's mother corrected.

Brides on Nui Nui probably wore less and looked more modest. ''Penny is not wearing that. Pick a dress, Penny,'' Kris said, waving at a wide collection of traditional gowns.

''But they're all lace and frills. She'll look more like the cake than the bride.''

''I'll tell Lotty to go easy on the icing,'' Kris snarled.

Penny and her mother edged their way into the lee of this verbal hurricane behind several mannequins of traditional gowns.

''Well, if you're going to insist on the bride dressing down into something plebeian, I can at least put the bridesmaids into something more appropriate to the moment. After all, this wedding is in my garden.''

''It is Penny's wedding. They're my friends.''

''It is my garden. Your father is running for his life.''

After several repeats, which repetitions made sound only more childish, Kris gave in with a sigh she'd been only too well practiced in since oh, about thirteen. ''Okay, Mother, bridesmaids' dresses are supposed to look horrible. So what's your entrance into this year's competition? It can't be any worse than the five I've already got in my closet.''

Kris was wrong.

The dress the modiste presented with such a wide smile was built very much like a daisy. Now all Kris needed was someone to think of as she plucked each petal, He loves me, he loves me not. Course, when she plucked the last one, it looked like she'd be wearing less than she had to Dance up the Moon.

''Mo-ther.''

''Daughter, you said I choose the dress. I'm choosing.''

And a deal in the Longknife household took a revolution to break. The back of the dress started in the front with spaghetti straps that flared into a gossamer train, hopefully before the cheeks of Kris's rear end were showing. I was more modestly dressed as a streetwalker on Turantic! And my own mother is doing this to me. Heather's red hair and milk-white complexion would be breathtaking against the yellow of the dress. And Babs would leak out of it in all the right places. Then there would be beanpole Kris falling out of it in all the wrong places.

Any chance I could talk Penny and Tom into believing that a Wardhaven princess could marry them by just putting their hands in each others'?

Or maybe if I got my ship back. A ship Captain can marry couples. Could a very small ship's Captain?

No, Penny and her mother had spotted a wedding gown and were looking at it with happy eyes. Kris reached for her credit card. Penny had stood with her through hell and more. And Tom even more than that. They were her best friends and deserved the wedding they wanted. And who remembered what bridesmaids wore?

Well, the society page. And Mother would have Adorable Dora covering this wedding. Kris sighed. She was a Longknife, and Longknifes did what had to be done.

Even when it didn't involve killing someone.