“What are the odds?”
“As things stand—we face a bloody confrontation with innocent members that could see the wrong side win, or at best, rob us of proof. Shishogi, if he sees himself apt to be dismissed, will destroy records. The law depends on proof. The Guild enforces the law. We administer the law. We support the law. And if those of us against the current Council cannot prove our case to the membership, if Tabini-aiji has to uphold us only by decree, and by the power of the aijinate—the Guild will never again be what we were. We need an authority and a legitimacy that can only come by us standing in the Council Chamber and proving our case, that the Council itself has broken the law.”
“Can you do that?”
“Under the charter, and under current Guild rules, there are only two individuals who can enter that building and demand attention from the Council, whatever its agenda. Tabini-aiji can. The aiji-dowager can. And she wishes to do it. She is Eastern, however. The Guild in exile will balk at that thought.”
Ilisidi?
Good God. She walked with a cane. She was fragile. Walk in there, into a fortress and demand the Assassins’ Guild leadership politely resign in favor of their enemies?
Only two individuals could get in there. Legally speaking.
He suddenly knew what Jago was working toward.
“I can be either of those persons,” he said.
“Your aishid has very reluctantly entertained that thought, Bren-ji. If you can get through the front doors of Guild Headquarters, officially, we can get in with you. If Cenedi also happens to be inside the building on the dowager’s business, with a small attendance of the dowager’s men . . . as he can do on his own, being head of a regional Guild—and if several other units currently active happen to be there, on other business on the floor above . . . we can open the building from several different points at once. Baji-naji, we can prevent the records being destroyed.”
“So.” He drew a deep breath. Force his way into Guild headquarters?
He’d worried a great deal, on that train ride, about his aishid eventually deciding to take on Assignments themselves—entering the Guild’s headquarters, trying to penetrate the defenses of the whole rest of the Guild . . . because he could not see the Assassins’ Guild turning over records at anyone’s asking, even Tabini’s.
He’d not remotely thought they’d ask his help. But it made sense.
“So—” he asked. “What would we have to do, Jago-ji?”
“Pass the doors all the way to Council, while it sits in session. If it will admit us, and hear you, well and good. If not, we set ourselves in a single critical doorway, between the hallway straight ahead, which is the Council, and the hallway to the left, which leads to Assignments, and we keep that door open, preventing them from sealing the heart of the building. Likely—most likely, Bren-ji, the Council will refuse to hear you—considering the situation with Lord Aseida. That would actually be desirable. Outright refusal would be quite acceptable. Hearing you have arrived, they will view you as, if nothing else, a move by Tabini that they do not want to deal with, and that they will want to stall—especially if they get wind of any physical movement by the old Guild in the city. But should they actually let us into the Council chamber, we will be in position, and we will be armed.”
“How—armed?”
“The ordinary. Indeed, Bren-ji, we have even thought of Jase-aiji’s weapons. But we cannot set that precedent, and there are too many innocent people in the way. We shall have our legal sidearms. Cenedi will have no more nor less than that. And his is the more dangerous task: Assignments will know what happened in Kadagidi territory . . . and if we are unlucky, Assignments and his allies in Council may know that we have been in contact with the opposition. Assignments will be particularly unhappy to see us—and Council may set up protection and issue orders to stop us at the doors. If we are lucky, they will become busy watching us and not watch Cenedi. We shall have no idea how things stand as we go in. We shall need speed, we shall need precise coordination with our other units—and all this without any recourse to Guild communications. We shall need the front doors opened, and, ideally, that second door opened and held open. Both are our problems. The aiji-dowager cannot do this. For one thing—their refusal of her would connect with a political history in the legislature that does not suit us. For another—you can move faster than she can. You are as recognizable as she is. And you are willing to take cover. We are not so certain about the dowager.”
Grim joke. But he didn’t have the right reflexes. He couldn’t react quickly enough, nor in the right direction. He was a liability under fire. He’d proven that often enough.
Worse, they would instinctively try to protect him.
“I fear being a risk to you, Jago-ji. I am entirely willing, but I fear moving in the wrong direction. And I absolutely do not want to put you at risk protecting me.”
“There are things you can learn. That you must learn, to do this with us. And you will definitely be wearing the vest.”
Bullets hurt. God, they hurt. But that was nowhere in any important calculations. “Then advise me what I need to do, Jago-ji. Tell me what I need to do.”
“Moving with us is important. We can coordinate very precisely without communications, given a known distance and a precise rate of movement. We do not wish to look as if we are counting—but we will be counting. You will practice that with me.”
He nodded. He knew how that worked. “Yes.”
And the rest—he would do. The stakes were that high. And it was going to be a very, very narrow window they had if they hoped to act fast enough to get at those records.
Were there people who could step into the breach and deal with the political situation if he and his aishid were shot down in a hallway?
Tabini and Geigi could.
His own brother, Toby, would connect with the Guild in exile, and with Tabini.
And never discount Ilisidi. Keeping her alive and safe was a priority, especially if anything happened to them. The plan could not entail putting her at risk.
“We are far from pleased to ask this, Bren-ji. It will be an extreme risk, and our priorities in this, you are right, cannot be to protect you. Of all units that could get in, we are the youngest, and our field skills, unlike some of the senior Guild, have not rusted.”
“Baji-naji, Jago-ji. Our instincts in such a situation are occasionally at odds. We discovered that on a hillside in Malguri, and I apologize that I have not in the least reformed, though I know more than I did. I confess I am far happier to go in there with you than to send you in there without me. I know your feelings are quite the opposite. I can only say I have gotten cannier over the years.”
“You cannot go armed, this time, Bren-ji. There will be detectors.”
“But you can.”
“We, certainly. But you, and the documents you bring to the Council, must represent the aiji, on some matter that can be proven, even if we cannot file them, to be completely within the aiji’s rights—and completely apart from the Kadagidi matter. There is our proof of Council misdeed, do you understand? That is our issue.”