''Like I took your last one.'' He grinned, lopsided.
''But don't get too close to the princess,'' Penny said.
''Sam's holding down that slot all by himself.'' The boy wasn't in the car with Aholo, but once things sorted themselves out in the conference room, he was usually close to his father, which was never far from the princess. And somehow, he'd managed to outcompete a lot of guys to be her main dance partner.
NELLY, ASK ABBY IF SHE HAS ARMORED BODY STOCKINGS FOR TOM AND SAM.
There was only a short pause. SHE DOES.
ASK HER WHERE SHE FOUND A SALE ON ARMORED BODY STOCKINGS?
THAT IS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, CORRECT?
FOR NOW.
ABBY SAYS TOM'S ALREADY DRAWN A STOCKING. SHOULD BE WEARING IT.
Kris eyed Tom. He grinned. ''And I was about to get around to telling you that Penny and I have been in stockings since we came ashore. Just like you and Jack, right?''
Jack elbowed Kris without looking away from the crowd.
''And I've been working with the local police since Port Stanley,'' Penny said. ''They're good, but they're about two hundred years behind the tech curve. A high-tech bank robber here uses a computer-printed note and a gun.'' Penny sighed. ''There's a couple of cops from Port Stanley with us now. A couple more from each town have been added. They know how important it is, but they've never worked at anything like what I talk to them about. They just shake their heads and say, ‘That can't happen here.' ''
''Let's hope they're right,'' Kris said, reminding herself that there was a reason why she was not alone here. She had her job and was doing it. These professionals had theirs and were doing them very well, thank you.
That day nothing like that happened at Port Winslow. More tough talk in public, another dinner-dance party that night, and over cocktails talk of district lines cut along this natural boundary or that population limit, criteria for taxing cities to pay for opening up new lands for youngsters.
Two days later, they flew into Port Brisbane at the foot of an imposing snow-covered mountain range. A river and a lake provided its essential water. Its hinterland propelled its growth with food, fiber, metals, and oil. The cocktail debate was whether it or Stanley—the Port was rarely appended now in conversations—would be the new capital, or co-capital with Nui Nui. Not all the friction was Mainland versus Islander.
The speeches were blessedly short and done at the airport. There were no protestors lining the streets as they drove directly to the convention center. Abby led a second caravan to the two hotels the entourage now took up.
Well-practiced, Penny went to the command post the local constabulary established on site. Tom and Sam kept close to Princess Aholo as inconspicuously as two good-looking young guys could. And Kris and Jack did their own wide-ranging walk-around.
The convention center was huge, as befitted Brisbane, and on three levels, with an airy gathering space dividing the two main work areas. On the south side were three huge exhibit halls. The middle-level hall had been arranged for the proto-assembly. The upper and lower halls were reserved for growth, caucuses, media, whatever came up. On the other side of the gathering areas were breakout rooms, over two dozen of various sizes, as well as several places to get something to eat quickly. More formal restaurants were across the streets or in the hotels near the convention center. It reminded Kris of some of the better centers she'd been confined to during Father's campaigns on Wardhaven. High praise from her perspective.
''We're starting to get organized in here,'' Tom reported.
''We've got a newly installed security camera giving us fits in meeting room nine,'' Penny reported.
''We're just down from it,'' Kris reported. ''We'll check it.''
But a Brisbane cop and repairman were first through the door. They died in a hail of automatic fire for that honor.
As Jack returned fire from the side of the door, Kris shouted into her commlink, ''Officer down. Breakout room nine.''
Somewhere in the building there was an explosion. Somewhere there were bursts after bursts of automatic weapons fire. Police pistols sounded puny as they answered. All too quickly there was little return fire.
''Tom,'' Penny shouted on net. Static answered her.
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?''