The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps (59 page)

Damn it
, she thought, as she found the ladder and climbed down two floors. It was harder than she remembered and she found herself panting at the bottom.
What did you find out that brought you here
?

The question seemed beyond her ability to answer. The Civil Guard had been showing a distressing independence as of late, ever since they’d walked into a trap she’d organised. Major Grosskopf’s purge had wiped out most of her sources…could it be that he’d browbeaten the Governor into approving the raid? The Marines didn’t seem to be in evidence, but she saw their shadow over the whole failure. They just didn’t behave in a predicable manner. Or had someone talked? There was no way to know. Silently, she ran through a list of possible suspects, but found nothing. Anyone who had known the full truth would have had as much to lose as she had.

She found the hatch and checked it carefully, before keying the switch that allowed her into the basement. It was supposed to be secure, but after the raid she had given up assuming that anywhere was actually safe from intruders. It was a shame that there was no underground way out of the mansion, yet she hadn’t been able to risk anyone coming in. There were too many experienced thieves in Camelot as it was. She pulled on the chameleon suit, keyed it for invisibility, and headed up the stairs. A pair of Civil Guardsmen was standing at the main door, watching for anyone coming in or out, but they didn’t seem to see her at all. She held her breath as she slipped past them and out into the open, trusting in the suit to keep her invisible. They shouldn’t even have suspected its existence. It had cost far more than even she cared to think about just to bring two of them to Avalon.

Her lawn, the grassy lawn she’d had made because she could, was no longer pristine. Hundreds of men and women lay on it, taken prisoner by the Civil Guard. A handful had clearly complained loudly and had been stunned by the guards. A number of preteen children sat at one end of the lawn, their hands unbound. She guessed that they’d been told to stay where they were and not cause trouble. Seeing them sent a nasty thought trickling into the back of her mind, leaving her to wonder if she knew how they’d been betrayed after all. The irony was troubling; if she was right, she’d intended to publicly hang the betrayer once she’d secured her power.

The main gate was guarded by three Marines in their combat armour, but it was open, offering her the chance to slip right past them and out into the city. Once she was outside, she could find her allies and start fighting back, perhaps even bringing down the Governor without the rest of the Council. She walked forward, reminding herself that they couldn’t see her, and reached the gate…and a Marine stepped into her path. Before she could react, an armoured fist slammed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground. The Marine wrenched her hands behind her back and tied them firmly together, before ripping holes in the suit and rendering it visible. Too late, she realised her mistake. The Marine helmets could see right through a chameleon suit. They’d probably thought her walking towards them hilarious.

A hand rolled her over and she found herself looking into Major Grosskopf’s eyes. “Carola Wilhelm,” he said, “I arrest you on the charge of high treason. You do not have the right to remain silent; I am obliged to warn you that any lies or untruths you tell that are discovered by the lie detectors will be held against you at your trial. You have been warned.”

He pulled her to her feet and pushed her roughly towards the rest of the prisoners.

Chapter Fifty

There is always someone who doesn’t get the word. In war, communications can be disrupted – either accidentally or as a result of enemy action. The more complex a battle plan is, therefore, the greater the chance of a random ‘X Factor’ affecting the outcome.

-Major-General Thomas Kratman (Ret), A Marine’s Guide to Insurgency.

“We have to cancel the operation,” Gaby said. She picked up one of the newspapers and held it out to Julian. “Read it for yourself.”

Julian read the story rapidly. “The Council has been arrested and charged with high treason,” he said. His voice became mocking. “Shocking developments at Wilhelm Mansion. Hundreds arrested. Civil Guard forces in control of the Councillors and their houses. The rump Council will be meeting later today to debate what it means for the future of Avalon.” He scowled. “I see no reason to change our plans.”

Gaby counted to ten under her breath. “Julian,” she said, wondering where the young boy she’d known had gone, “this is something that changes everything! What would happen if we gave them time to realise just how badly the Council had served them?”

“It’s hardly enough,” Julian countered, slowly. “Even if the entire Council was placed under arrest, they’d just be replaced by others with the same interest in maintaining the
status quo
. If anything, this is a chance to go ahead with Operation Headshot and terminate the government, once and for all.”

Gaby stood up, angrily. Living in a flophouse for two days with Julian had been unbearable, even though it was safe. The messy apartment had been abandoned to squatters long ago and the Cracker agents within the city had found it convenient as a hidden base. They’d even taken the time to touch it up a little, cleaning out the messes the previous tenants had left behind. It was hardly a palace, but it would do.

“We’re not going to get very far if we launch the operation and fail,” Gaby said. “Should we not try, at least, to take advantage of this before it’s too late?”

“It is already too late,” Julian said. “We have two hundred people within Camelot and the other…designated targets. We cannot cancel the operation now, for someone wouldn’t get the order in time and would launch their part of the operation, unaware that there isn’t going to be any support. And, Gaby, they would be slaughtered for sure. The timing is out of our hands.”

Gaby stared at him, hating him, but she had to admit that he was right. Operation Headshot was easily the most complex operation the Crackers had ever planned, even back when they’d started it as an exercise in wishful thinking. Everything had to fit together reasonably well, if not perfectly, and he was right. One of the teams wouldn’t get the message in time and would launch their attack. If they were wiped out, it would be bad enough, but if they survived long enough to be interrogated…the Governor and the Marines would learn exactly what had been planned. There would no longer be any hope for peace.

“God damn you,” she said, angrily. It had been Julian who had drawn up the final version of the plan. Had he done it on purpose? She couldn’t see how, but Julian was smarter than he seemed. “How many people are going to die?”

“This isn’t the time for a political debate,” Julian snapped back. Without Rufus, the tension between them was rapidly coming to the fore. “We stand on the brink of winning the war in one fell swoop or losing…only a handful of our own men. The Governor’s confidence in his security measures will not survive what we’re planning to do. We cannot pull back now and wait for another opportunity. There might not
be
another opportunity. What happens when they get their act together and tighten up security here?”

He made an effort to sit back on his bed. “Gaby…I know you care about our people, and I know you want to end this peacefully if possible, but we’re well past the stage when we could call the operation off,” he said. “We have no choice.”

“I know,” Gaby snarled. “I understand that. I also understand that our timing has been incredibly poor!”

She shook her head, pacing over to the window and staring out at the apartment blocks that some unimaginative engineer had designed and some equally unimaginative city-planner had ordered built. She had never seen Earth, but if half the stories were true, the designers had clearly based their plans on Earth’s massive mega-cities. The community had no shops, no entertainment and no life. No one would want to live in such buildings if they had a choice. They were infested with the debris of the Council; the permanently unemployed, the drug addicts and the thousands of single-parent families. It wasn't the worst that Camelot had to offer, but it was pretty damned close.

And all of it could be removed, with a little effort. If the Council had even bothered to care, they could have done much to improve the lot of the people trapped in walls that might as well have been made of cardboard. The homeless children could have been farmed out to the farming communities, where children were valued and loved and taught how to behave. The older men and women could have been taught new skills; their debts could have been forgiven, giving them the chance to build a new life for themselves. But the Council didn’t care. They would sooner see the entire planet decay into rubble than give up one iota of their power.

“Pass the final word,” she ordered, feeling cold rage overwhelming her. Rage at the Council and at herself, one for creating the nightmare that she lived in, the other for pressing ahead with the war. “Tell all the teams that we move, soon.”

“Of course,” Julian said. He made a manful attempt to hide his delight and relief, but Gaby saw it anyway. “I’ll see to it at once.”

***

“Would you mind explaining, just for the benefit of an old and tied man, just what you thought you were doing?”

Brent Roeder had never been so scared in his life, yet somehow he managed to cover it up with bluster. No one – not the Marines, not the Civil Guard, not even the media – had informed him that the raids were going ahead until they were already over. Armed Civil Guardsmen had raided the houses belonging to fifteen Councillors, taking them and their guests into custody…all without a warrant from his office. Over five hundred people, including a cross-section of the wealthy and powerful, had been taken into custody. They'd all been shipped out to a new detention camp near the spaceport…

And no one, absolutely no one, had told him what was going on.

“Damn it, George,” he thundered, ignoring Captain Stalker’s blank face. It was inscrutable, yet he thought that he detected a hint of amusement. “Purging the Civil Guard was bad enough, but this…are you
trying
to start a civil war?”

“We already have a civil war,” Grosskopf observed, calmly. “We’re actually trying to prevent it from getting worse…”

“Well, you failed,” Brent snapped. “I know we’ve had our differences, but really…why didn’t you bring this to me?” The suspicion that had flowered in his mind earlier returned with a vengeance. “Or are you planning to unseat me and take the post of Governor for yourself?”

Grosskopf winced at the suggestion. “No, sir,” he said, tightly. “I believed – we believed – that it would be better to act fast, leaving you with the option of disowning us if everything went completely to shit. I might add that I have broad authority to operate under certain circumstances.”

Brent switched his glare to Captain Stalker, who appeared unruffled. “And what, exactly, do you have to do with this?”

“Several days ago, we discovered evidence that a prominent member of the Council was visiting a brothel, one that used small children as…sexual toys,” Captain Stalker said. There was an undeniable twitch in his jaw, leaving Brent wondering just what had happened. If that was the complete story, he would eat his hat. “We picked him up – as we are authorised to do under Imperial Law – and sweated him. He confessed to involvement in the Council’s plan to unseat you and replace Imperial Government with their rule. Using this new evidence, we moved rapidly to capture the traitors before they could escape or put their plans into operation.”

“You should have cleared it with me,” Brent said, coldly. It was hard to keep a grip on his temper with the ground sliding away under him, but somehow he managed to keep his voice reasonably even. “Was that too much to ask?”

Captain Stalker met his gaze evenly, but when he spoke, his voice was very gentle. “We know that they had spies within Government House,” he said. “If we had discussed the issue with you, it might have warned them and forced them to strike first, launching their coup while we were unprepared. We had to move fast to pre-empt them.”

“My aides are completely trustworthy and above suspicion,” Brent said, angrily. “Or do you have reason to believe otherwise?”

“A spy who was not above suspicion would not be much good to his real master,” Captain Stalker pointed out. “We’ll run all of the prisoners through interrogation and find out who here is reporting to them, at which point we can remove them from their post and deal with them as seems appropriate.”

“But you don’t understand,” Brent protested. “The people you arrested practically run the planet! They certainly run the industries, the orbital station and God alone knows what else. We can’t do without them!”

“Funny, that,” Grosskopf said. “I spoke to their foremen at the factories…and, well let’s just say that they’re not too fond of their masters. They agreed to keep working for us, at least until we can get the final disposition of the factories sorted out. Let’s face it, sir. None of the people we arrested actually
ran
anything. They merely owned it. The real work was done by others.”

Brent snorted. “So what do you suggest we do, then?”

“Deal with the traitors publicly,” Captain Stalker said. “We have the evidence, so we hold a trial. You can do that in your role as the Emperor’s Viceroy out here. We can confiscate everything they own now and put them somewhere out of the way, at least until we can report their arrest and trial to the sector capital. Once their property is confiscated, you cancel all of the debts.”

Brent blinked. “All of them?”

“All of them,” Captain Stalker agreed. His face darkened. “Let’s face it. None of the original money is ever going to be repaid, is it? All the debts are really good for is keeping people down and that just throws people into the arms of the Crackers. If we cancel the debt, all of the debt, this instantly becomes the most popular government Avalon has ever had.”

“That may not be legal,” Brent pointed out. “Can we…?”

“Of course we can,” Captain Stalker insisted. “Think about it; the property of a convicted traitor is forfeited to the Empire, which effectively means you out here. And you can dispose of your property any way you like.”