"I see." Terekhov gazed at the face on his com. Obviously Rajkovic wanted him to know he was only too well aware that Hexapuma was unlikely to slay the FAK dragon with a single stroke of the sword. And, the captain conceded, the expectations attached to the Vice President's second hope were both pragmatic and realistic.
"We'll certainly give it our very best effort, Mr. Vice President," he assured Rajkovic.
"No one could ask for more, Captain. Would it be possible for you-and for Mr. Van Dort-to meet with me in the President's Mansion this afternoon?"
"It'll take at least a little while to get Hexapuma snugged down, Sir. However, I'd estimate that Mr. Van Dort and I could be available to you within ninety minutes or so. Two hours would be better, frankly."
"Two hours would be more than satisfactory, Captain. My calendar's been cleared for the afternoon. Please com Ms. Djerdja when you're ready to join us here. I'd like to have Mavro Kanjer, my Secretary of Justice, and Colonel Basaricek and General Suka present, as well. I should be able to get them here between the time you leave your ship and the time you reach the spaceport and we can find transportation to the President's Mansion for you."
"Of course, Mr. Vice President."
"Until then, Captain," Rajkovic said with a warm smile, and disappeared from Terekhov's display.
The captain looked up. Helen Zilwicki was at Tactical with Naomi Kaplan while Ragnhild Pavletic was at Communications with Nagchaudhuri, and Terekhov pointed a finger in Helen's direction.
"Ms. Zilwicki, you're relieved. Please go inform Mr. Van Dort that we'll be leaving the ship within two hours to meet with Vice President Rajkovic and his senior military and police officers. Then prepare yourself to accompany us."
"Yes, Sir." Helen stood and faced Kaplan. "Ma'am, I request relief."
"Ms. Zilwicki, you stand relieved," Kaplan replied gravely, and Helen braced briefly to attention, then headed for the lift.
Terekhov was already pointing the same finger at Ragnhild.
"Ms. Pavletic, you also are relieved. Report to Boat Bay One and assemble Pinnace One's crew. You'll transport Mr. Van Dort and me to the Karlovac spaceport and remain there to return us to the ship after our meeting with Vice President Rajkovic. See to it that you're fully cognizant with local flight control procedures and that our flight's fully cleared. In addition, contact the senior KNP officer at the spaceport-I'm sure Karlovac Flight Control can put you in touch with him-and ask him to com Major Kaczmarczyk to coordinate security overwatch for the pinnace."
"Yes, Sir!" Ragnhild said. She stood and turned towards Nagchaudhuri to request relief, but Terekhov was already punching a combination into his own com.
"Major Kaczmarczyk," a voice said a moment later, and the bristle-cut Marine appeared on his display.
"Tadislaw, Mr. Van Dort and I are going down to meet with the Kornatian Vice President and his senior cops. I want you present for the meeting. In addition, I think it's time for a proper show of force. Nordbrandt's demonstrated that she's ambitious, if nothing else. If she sees an opportunity to take out the Manticoran big shots sent to help hunt her down, I expect her to take it. Even if she doesn't, a demonstration of our own capabilities won't hurt a thing."
"Yes, Sir. I understand," Kaczmarczyk said when Terekhov paused.
"Ms. Pavletic will have Pinnace One. I've instructed her to contact Karlovac Flight Control for clearance and a flight plan, and also to request that the senior police officer at the spaceport contact you. I expect you'll be hearing from him sometime in the next ten to fifteen minutes. When you discuss arrangements with him, make it clear you intend to provide security for our party between the spaceport and the President's Mansion, as well. If he needs to clear that with his own superiors, he should have time before we actually head down."
"Aye, aye, Sir. I'll get right on it."
"Good. Terekhov, clear."
The captain cut the com link and looked up. Ragnhild had already disappeared in Helen's wake, and he gazed at the tactical plot. There were more orbital installations and traffic than he'd anticipated from Bernardus' description of the Split economy and tech base, although the plot still looked incredibly sparse compared to what it would have shown around Manticore, Sphinx, or Gryphon.
"Guns."
"Yes, Sir?" Naomi Kaplan said.
"I want to know just what orbital assets the Kornatians have. I expect they'll be perfectly willing to brief us on their capabilities, but sometimes there's a discrepancy between what people tell you they can do and the capabilities of the hardware they actually have in place. Put out some arrays to give us a look at the far side of the planet. Then run a detailed analysis of every ship and satellite out there. I'd like you and Lieutenant Hearns to be prepared to give me a full-dress brief on your findings right after breakfast tomorrow."
"Aye, aye, Sir. We'll be there," Kaplan assured him, and began giving instructions of her own to her ratings.
Terekhov gave the plot one more brief examination, glanced at the main visual display and the huge blue and white globe of Kornati, then stood. If he was going to go call upon the local head of state, acting or no, it behooved him to make the best impression that he could, and Chief Steward Agnelli would never forgive him if he didn't give her enough time to make him what she considered presentable.
"They're here."
The voice didn't identify itself. On the other hand, it didn't have to. First, because Nordbrandt recognized it. And, second, because it was speaking over one of the secure military coms which had been landed the evening before. Only four people, including Nordbrandt, had so far received those.
"You're positive?" she asked.
"They've contacted the graybacks to clear their small craft into the spaceport," Drazen Divkovic replied. "I'm not sure of their arrival time, but Rajkovic'll want to see them as soon as possible."
"Agreed."
Nordbrandt frowned at the drably painted wall of her one-sun's kitchen. She knew why Drazen had contacted her directly this way, and a part of her agreed with him. But it was too soon. The Manties' guard would be up, and the essentially civilian weapons her action groups had used against Kornatian opposition would be grossly inadequate against Manticoran hardware. Her people needed the time to become reasonably proficient with their new weapons before they crossed swords with the Manties.
"Take no action at this time," she said.
She could visualize the expression of frustration her words sent flickering across Divkovic's face. He'd been fiery and impatient enough even before his brother was killed. But he was also disciplined.
"Acknowledged. Clear," was all he said, and the link went dead.
Nordbrandt put the fist-sized com back into its hiding place in the flour canister, stopped by the oven to check the bread whose rich aroma filled the kitchen, then sat back down to consider the implications.
They'd known the Manties were coming. Tonkovic was unaware one of her own aides at her precious Constitutional Convention was a FAK sympathizer and information source, and that source had informed Nordbrandt almost as quickly as Tonkovic had informed Rajkovic. But the man hadn't been able to tell Nordbrandt when Hexapuma would arrive, and the actual timing was... inconvenient.
She'd arranged for the second load of weapons to be landed that very night. Things had gone so well the first time that she'd decided to go ahead and run in a full shuttle load-over a thousand tons-in a single flight. Since she had enough from the first load tucked away in her twelve separate caches to meet her immediate operational needs in and around the capital, she'd decided to risk landing that large a chunk of the total consignment at Charlie One, the carefully hidden base training camp also known as "Camp Freedom."
Charlie One had been located with security in mind, which meant it was incredibly inconveniently placed to support operations in or around Karlovac. Or any of Kornati's other major cities. Or even moderately large towns, for that matter. But its very isolation should mean it would be reasonably safe to hold the majority of the new weapons and equipment there for at least a short time-long enough, certainly, to carefully disperse it all to secondary hidden locations.
But all of that had been predicated on relative freedom of movement, and certainly hadn't included the intrusion of a Manticoran warship. She rather suspected that Firebrand's delivery crew would be less than delighted by that turn of events.
"You're shitting me."
"I wish!" Annette De Chabrol shot back.