Six hours earlier...
Tanya and Visha went into their warehouse office for last minute preparations before the meeting. Visha, her senses highly tuned by her time in the field in general, and with White Silver in particular, knew something was wrong. "What is it, Tanya?"
She grimaced and said, "I can't hide it from you, can I? I received a letter this morning." She pushed the piece of paper across her desk.
The paper featured a carefully drawn depiction of a night sky over a city. The lines were precise but the proportions were off... emphasizing some things and downplaying others. Instead of a moon, however, there was a circle filled characters of some sort.
"That's quite odd... what do you think it means?"
"The 'moon' is the second Ring of Charlemagne, said to protect against fear in your heart or sudden death."
Visha blinked. "That's quite esoteric, Tanya. How, no, WHY, do you even know that?"
"I've been studying pre-orb magic systems since I was attacked in the Republic. I met someone that made it abundantly clear to me that we, the modern world, are missing something important because of our reliance on this technology." She spun her cane in one hand nonchalantly.
The other woman examined the picture carefully. "If this depicts an actual sky, by the height of the moon and the constellations, I'd say this was close to now, even today possibly, about 6PM." All her time in reckoning training hadn't been wasted!
"Good guess since you didn't use tools. It's almost precisely 6:30. That building," she tapped a part of the picture, "is just outside. Whatever it's depicting is now I'm certain. Today. We have no plans to be here at any other time, so in about six hours this is saying something is going to happen."
"Something involving sudden death. A bomb or a sniper?"
"In the middle of Berun? A sniper is the most likely. Can you imagine the size of the bomb required to get through a mage shield? And it'd have to be close enough to be sure to get me." She put on a predatory grin. "I hope you don't think I'm being egotistical in thinking I'm the target?"
"It IS a bit vain but I suppose you're right. So, do you trust this warning?"
"Actually I do. There's a Wyrd of Truth drawn invisibly on the paper. You can feel it: just lightly touch the paper or spread a fine powder on the surface. There would be quite the backlash on the caster should they violate its trust. Those northern traditions place great emphasis on honor and balance. To violate the Wyrd would be like swallowing an armed grenade."
"This seems a bit too elaborate though." Visha looked skeptical. "Why be so obscure?"
"That I couldn't tell you. Maybe I'll get to ask them someday. For now, though, here's what we're going to do..."
* * *
Twelve hours earlier...
"Excuse me, sir, may I have a moment?" An attractive brunette woman asked a nondescript man carrying an instrument case as he was purchasing groceries.
"Pardon me, fraulein, I'm quite busy."
"Oh, but you'll want to hear what I have to say Mr. Raven."
A dozen scenarios flashed through his head before he decided. "Shall we go someplace to speak, then?"
The restaurant lacked outdoor seating, which would have been ideal, but it also lacked customers and the side room they sat in was blissfully free service staff. The man sat across from the mage carefully. He noted that people avoided the room as if it didn't exist. "So, what do you want?"
Nova grinned and released her disguise spell.
He sucked in his breath through his teeth. "I see. I assume the other half of the 'Witches of the North' is near us now?"
She pouted. "Now, now. That's not the most flattering description of two lovely young ladies such as ourselves."
"Enough. What do you want?"
"That's simplicity itself. We want to give you information that will help you on your mission. And, may I add, entirely for free!"
He mentally revisited his options but had to admit that they had him dead to rights here. They could have set up anything and half of their pair was entirely out of sight and could be planning anything. The odds of killing her and surviving himself were so close to zero, they were next door neighbors! "I'm not one to believe in Sinterklaas, four-leaf clovers or anything for 'free'. So you're going to have to do better than that."
"Fine, if I have to tell aaaaaall the details. Our mission is likely the exact same as yours. To be perfectly blunt, Berun is about to turn into an assassins' convention pretty soon now. Maybe not as spectacular as the one in the Republic but still a good chance to mingle and chat with fellow..."
"Enough, woman! Can you please get to the point!" He rarely lost his temper and he NEVER visibly lost it but this was a special occasion.
"This is why conversation is a dying art, you know. Okay, we want to help you in your little mission but don't want to get directly involved. You might know that we get credit for the attempt of a mission. Win, lose or draw. But it gets even better, mein Freund! We also get credit if someone else completes a mission on our watch."
"That's... generous of them." He didn't mention who 'they' are, as they both knew.
"Oh, they hate it, but we wrote the contract and that's how the game is played. So if we give you assistance and you succeed, we win."
He frowned slightly. "And if I fail, you can still try again."
"Clever Mr. Raven! We can give you a top-notch location where the target will be, the time, and a near certain guarantee that she will be alone. There are even buildings nearby with great elevation and line of sight. Not quite shooting ducks on a pond but pretty close, eh?"
The sniper considered the offer carefully. It was well known that a legion of assassins had Rusted Silver in their sights. Given the ties the Witches had to the Council of Ten, it was quite plausible they would have pulled a favor to make this happen. And, since he could always check out the information ahead of time, the worst that could happen is that he could just ignore it and continue as planned. Truly the mythical 'free lunch' had appeared before him.
"I accept. Tell me more." No reason not to take their offer. After all, what could go wrong?
* * *
18 hours earlier...
Astrid was modifying her mystic map of Berun, using only moonlight as a light source. This required Nova to jimmy a half dozen or so artificial lights outside their room but she was careful to note which ones so she could set them right again in a few hours.
Besides, very few people really need a light on at midnight anyway.
Grasping fate as opposed to reading it was like the difference between creating sculpture and merely appreciating it. Both require a fine eye and a firm grasp of artistry but the skills and strength required were profoundly different. Even with her skills, she had to use the lightest touch or face horrifying consequences.
Touching Degurechaff directly was completely out of the question, of course. There were more lines of fate going through her than a thousand random people. Forces, powerful ones, were pulling her to and fro. Astrid sensed one had been severed recently, a large one, and that had caused the headstrong former Colonel to drag the remainder behind her like a wild bull pulling a score of outmatched cowboys by their own lariats.
No, what she was doing was far more subtle. She was giving tiny hexes to killers who were spiraling their way to the city. One man accidentally took the wrong bus; six more were stopped at the border when their (false) papers smudged after accidentally being splashed by sudden rain; two others who had an on-again, off-again affair met each other unexpectedly and lost nearly five days before getting back to business. Minute setbacks but they prevented the other killers from arriving at the same time.
The last, and easiest, thing she did was to elaborate on the drawing Nova had given her. Other than the Wyrd, there was no power in the paper, just a hint of what was to come. Careful lines, a dot here, a tiny mark there. Of course, the ring of Charlemagne took the most time as a misdrawn rune with no power instilled could be dangerous in and of itself. She touched one of the lines when she was done and look at her pen with admiration. "What a wonderful thing she has wrought. I should buy some more for Christmas gifts."
* * *
24 hours earlier…
Nova, posing as a common shopper, picked up various items from the warehouse/store. The items were a bit of a hodge-podge though they were roughly organized by function. Food items were on one side, mostly consisting of simple staple products like potatoes, carrots, wheat flour and the like, though there was a small display of day old bread on sale (currently empty). The right and most of the rear had larger things like furniture and industrial machinery. None of it was new, and all showed signs of wear but nothing was broken even if it had been refurbished. The center was housewares and clothing and all manner of military surplus.
Near the cashier, she saw there was a stack of newspapers, a Zart display and inside a glass case a number of finely made pens. Honestly, they looked out of place with their fresh newness compared to the rest of the Markt but all appeared to be selling along with the other items. Out of curiosity, she bought two of the pens and a newspaper since they had piqued her interest.
Plus she'd need to draw soon anyway.
She paid for her purchases and stepped into the chilly, early evening air. Using the newspaper to provide support for a square of paper, she quickly drew the night sky and the surrounding buildings but leaving the moon a blank circle.
Having finished early, she traipsed to a local eatery for a solo dinner. Astrid was fasting and Nova thought it best and kindest to not eat in front of her.
Plus her temper became VERY short when she was hungry.
To pass the time, she flipped through Die Wahrheit as she ate. She was amused by the 'inaccuracy' contest and noticed that the advertisements were almost clinically free from hyperbole. TvD's products had the most eye-catching advertisements and occupied prime real estate. She was amazed by the high quality of the numerous pictures that graced its articles and giggled at the rather droll commentary on the state of the leadership of the Empire.
"Oh, our little Silver had her hand in these editorials, I'm sure. It seems she likes the taste of Sacred Cow after she's flamed it a bit!"
The financial section had a prominent place and there was a chart denoting the fall of the mark against gold. She gathered that it was a regular, if not fixed, feature on the page. Nova was no financial genius but even she could tell that a currency losing half its value in a few short months wasn't good.
The entertainment section was rather small, but there was an announcement of something being made for sale in December by TvD. "Hmmm? What is a Holiday Album? I guess it's music of some sort. Maybe I should get a copy?" She sipped a digestif and wondered if it would ever get produced. "I guess we'll know in a day."
* * *
….NOW.
Mr. Raven examined the body through his scope carefully. He had only four of the mage-killer rounds as they were more expensive than their weight in gold... or a hundred times their weight in gold! He needed to know whether an additional round would be required and was loathe to waste such a precious resource on a dead girl. Unlike other assassins, he didn't have a trace of magic so that he could avoid tipping off the ultra-sensitive White Silver to his presence. His analysis of the past failures made him conclude she always had advance warning of their attacks and he concluded that this was the key element. A non-mage sniper with rounds specially crafted to penetrate even a potent magic shield would provide an optimal chance.
Something was nagging him about the kill, though. It was a clean wound, right on target, and he had seen many, many dead bodies in his days. There were few people who looked like her, so he saw no reason to think it was a lookalike. But what was wrong...
"Fuck!" He jumped back as a mage-beam shot through the space his head had just occupied seconds ago.
* * *
Five minutes earlier...
Visha heard the expected gunshot and nodded. The ex-military men instinctively tried to grab weapons that weren't there or looked for cover. She raised her voice as the startled guests looked around. "Please, everyone, don't worry. There's an incident outside and Frau Degurechaff is taking care of it. But, for now, please remain indoors."
Outside, Tanya scanned the surrounding buildings invisible in a shadowy cover while she maintained the illusion of her dead body. She spotted the tiny glint of light reflected off of the sniper's scope. Gotcha! She fired a mage bolt with an insane level of precision but noted with annoyance that he had anticipated the attack and had gotten out of sight.
* * *
...NOW
I knew something was wrong... no one came out of the building after the noise!
He was scrambling toward the exit, so he didn't get to see Tanya rocketing toward him with glowing red shoes and several decoys all maneuvering independently. He ejected the blank cartridge from his rifle and reloaded it with a mage-killer despite his fear. In all his years as an assassin, he never had failed a mission and certainly not against the most dangerous girl on two continents!
When she flew into the window, he reflexively fired his weapon and cursed when the illusion vanished like a popped bubble. "Fuck!" His facade of calmness left him as he fumbled to reload his gun. In those moments, two copies of Tanya floated into the room.
His mind raced faster than it ever had before. One of them is fake but I only have one chance! She has to be in the room because she needs line of sight to control her illusions, so it has to be one of them. Both were floating toward him with truly devilish smiles on their faces and puffs of steam coming from their mouths in the cold night air. He wavered for a second and then he noticed he could hear the gentle breathing of the one on the left. In a split second decision, he fired at the one on the right. As Tanya stumbled backwards, he thought with pride, She's an expert with sounds, so she quieted her own and gave her illusion the semblance of...
It was then that he felt something enter his back, neatly severing his spine and destroying his heart. As he slumped over, he saw the very tip of a mage blade pulled out of his dying body and a blonde girl dispassionately looking down on him. The moonlight from a side window lit up half of her face like an angel with the other half was wreathed in darkness.
Chapter 34- Tis the Season
Tanya carefully searched the room for a second assassin but only found the one man. When she first saw him, she wanted to capture him for interrogation but the room was too dark and too filled with broken furniture and abandoned items to give her that luxury. So she naturally decided the quickest, safest way to kill him and did so without hesitation.
She pushed the body over with one foot and examined the man. Other than the look of surprise on his face, he was nondescript. "Interesting, not a mage but still deadly." She found the last round clutched in his hand. It was made of a shiny alloy that looked like reddened gold. Her fingers felt oddly cold as she touched it, as if the heat were being forcibly pulled from her body. "What the hell is this thing?" She shook her head and wrapped it in a handkerchief before stuffing it in her pocket.
"Getting the authorities involved is so much trouble." She did a quick calculation between the guaranteed hassle if she reported it, the likely response and consequences compared to if she covered up the incident multiplied by the chance it would be discovered. "Okay, then." She cast a spell she normally used to get rid of classified documents, just with a larger area. Inside the boundaries, the heat was extreme but no gasses and very little light leaked out. When she was done and released the spell, there was little left but hot CO2 and a fine ash that blew away with the chilly late autumn wind.
Because of the amount of metal involved, she took the sniper rifle with her in the convenient case provided. Though it wasn't her usual style, she decided to either keep or dispose of it later. She checked her internal clock... less than 10 minutes had transpired. Time to get back inside.
She found that the meeting-goers were unsettled but not panicked and her returned alleviated even that. "No problems, everyone, please continue enjoying yourselves!"
Visha looked over questioningly and Tanya just nodded. An entire conversation in just two glances.
With that off her mind, she felt freer than she had all day and decided to finish up some business, one on one. She figuratively grabbed the head of the Schnäppchenmarkts. "How are the inventory levels? My military contacts are eager to empty a lot more warehouses."
The man looked rather embarrassed, "Generally good, ma'am, but I made a poor decision I think."
"Oh?" She strove to recall anything that stood out but he had been handling things competently so nothing came to mind.
"I accepted large quantities of surplus blankets assuming that they would be appropriately seasonal but I'm not getting nearly the sales I expected, not even a tenth."
"There's so little interest in blankets? With winter coming on? Surely not."
He looked somewhat melancholy. "Oh, there's interest, but the people most interested don't have the money to pay."
"Slash the price to the bone and if you think that won't do it, just give them away."
"Ma'am?"
She shrugged. "We are getting them at prices that are literally cheaper than dirt. If we take a little loss, at least we don't have to keep them in inventory." Tanya patted the man on the shoulder, wishing she was as tall as she was in her last life to make the gesture more natural. "Don't sweat every pfennig and look at the big picture. If you have other stock with high interest but isn't moving, just do the same and we'll make it up with other things."
This will be good advertising or even function as a loss leader for other sales. Those blankets will be useless in a few months and this is a good lesson for him on inventory management.
The man nearly teared up. She's telling me to give away blankets to the poor with winter coming. How generous can she be?! And she wants me to give away other things that they might need, too. "I'll make sure of it!"
That December, many families were grateful for the gift of blankets or surprised when extra items like a bag of potatoes or a bar of army surplus chocolate for their children was slipped into their purchases. With that, family by family, neighborhood by neighborhood, the word began to spread. But that word was a name.
* * *
The next day, an intense man with circular glasses and a starched collar approached her at their new office. "Frau Degurechaff, a moment?"
She was puzzled for a second and then recalled him. "Herr Braunfels, so good of you to come even on such short notice! Have you decided to work with me on the album?"
"I would like to say yes, but I was curious why you chose me?" He did, indeed, look somewhat puzzled but not displeased.
"You appreciate, and compose, such a wide range of styles. That you are also a veteran and a man of honor are points in your favor as well. I'm glad you can come down from the lofty works of the orchestra for my little jingles."
He smiled, a gentler expression than before. "Music is music. Am I so 'lofty' to think my music is the be all and end all? To be honest, having my name tied to a project of yours might raise interest in my other works."
"Excellent! I've had a studio constructed in a spare building with excellent sound equipment to properly capture our work." She nodded knowingly. "Of course, a recording is not as good as hearing Phantastische Erscheinungen live, but we are not making art this time."
"You do yourself a discredit. I found myself profoundly moved by the title track... moved to tears I must admit. As a veteran, no as a human being, how can one not feel the pathos?"
"My goal is more smiles than tears, Walter."
"There are those aplenty. To a fruitful collaboration!" He shook her hand firmly before leaving perhaps not even realizing that he was humming I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas as he walked away.
Tanya grinned as she went back into her office. An expression that can only be described as wicked.
See that, Being X? I'm going to turn your favorite holiday into a hotbed of schmaltz and commercialism. I have enough material to put out a thoroughly secular Christmas album every year for the rest of my life! No religion -- just sleigh bells, Santa Claus, winter wonderlands and Rudolf the Goddamned Reindeer.
* * *
The Christmas Album was a runaway success.
It's official title was "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" but the more informal title was how people referred to it. Despite her threats to Being X, there was no mention of flying reindeer, red-nosed or otherwise. In addition to that song, she covered Jingle Bells and had 'new' songs like "Walking in a Winter Wonderland", "Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and "Silver Bells".
The jacket cover featured Tanya in a long fur-lined coat walking down a snowy road with fanciful visions floating above head in rather stylized artwork. The beautiful detail of her face and clothes contrasted wonderfully with the drawn artwork, make the image surreal and magical.
Certainly, two of the more 'magical' women in Berun were enjoying it. Nova was putting the needle back for another listen on the first side while Astrid made a hot tea to ward off the cold seeping in from outside. Snow had just begun to fall, ushering in both December and true winter weather. Nova relaxed as she listened and sipped her tea. "These songs are so much fun! Do you think she'll translate them like her other albums?"
"Why wouldn't she? Our figurative Miss Silver loves a more literal silver when she can get it. Why, have you become a fan?" Astrid noted which assassins were in reference to Berun and how best to guide them properly. It was like scheduling a station with too many trains coming in. She just absorbed Nova's rants without paying too much attention.
"No! Well, yes, technically. But there's something off about all this. She's a peace loving war monger. She destroys the armies of entire countries but she is also supporting widows, orphans and veterans. She's a born and bred Germanian citizen but has a weird preference for Anglish music, Francois cuisine, fine coffee from whoever sells it. She's a huge puzzle and we don't have enough pieces... but we should! Her life is practically an open book." She slapped a copy of Tanya's biography next to her. "I take that back... it IS an open book! This one right here!"
Astrid smiled. She felt the threads of fate while her sister was much more 'here and now' about life.
"Don't trouble yourself so much. The past is just the box around the future. It can hint at what's inside but it can't truly encompass it."
"Wow. I mean, wow. That makes even less sense than usual."
"Never you mind, short and surly sister. We've bet on her once, I say let's continue."
"We could work quite a few... hey, who's short?!"
"When you grow up, I'll stop calling you short. Now, attention please. We have our next 'helper' arriving soon."
* * *
Rerugen had added Die Wahrheit to his list of regular periodicals. It was not published daily like some, but he actually found it both entertaining and insightful. Less pleasant, though not at all untruthful, were the attacks on the administration. The only politician that dared to speak out against the paper soon found a multi-page expose of his darkest secrets revealed not two weeks later. With photos. He resigned in disgrace immediately. It was a frightening amount of power they now wielded as no one knew how she got her information, just that it proved accurate
On the other hand, he had won 200 marks by correcting a small error of fact in that very article. He wasn't sure what had prompted him to submit to their contest, but the very polite congratulations letter they sent him along with the money was locked tightly in his safe.
In addition, his investment in her was growing at a rather amazing rate. But, as far as he could tell, there wasn't a whiff of a Ponzi scheme to be found. She simply bought cheap and sold high. Over and over again. As a test, he had withdrawn a bit of his stock in the form of land. Somehow her corporation happened to own fifty acres of pastureland near his family home. Because he was an early investor, and that had bloomed nicely, he already considered himself repaid. That purchase still barely dented his portfolio, though!
The Political Office was still planning something involving gold. The first round of reparation payments had barely met muster but the next would be simply impossible. Yet the word 'gold' was heard in more whispered conversations than any other, though the speakers would quickly shut up if they thought anyone else was around. He knew whatever it was, it would be underhanded and potentially disastrous for the country.
Dreading the necessity, he decided to beard the devil in her own lair... or perhaps just one of the lesser imps.
Serebryakov agreed to meet him at a café not too far distant from either office of theirs. Certainly he could have called (their business now had the wherewithal and need to have a dedicated phone) but it was hardly secure. Every call in or out of central command was logged even if not actively monitored and he wished no trail of this conversation.
Visha waved toward him as he entered. "Ah, General! I've taken the liberty of ordering some appetizers. You take your coffee with a dash of cream, yes?"
He sat down and nodded. "You have a good memory Frau Serebryakov."
"Please, sir, just Visha. I'm not as formal as that." She waved over a waiter and ordered drinks for the two of them.
Rerugen found the changes in her to be quite interesting. She had a growing confidence and maturity so rare in someone her age, man or woman. Honestly, she was exactly the kind of person the military needed now more than ever, but Degurechaff had gotten to her first. "Then I insist you call me Erich. Too many people who just want something from me, call me General."
"Erich it is, then." She smiled and he was struck by how attractive the former Captain was. Dressed in appropriately feminine civilian clothes rather than the less-than-flattering uniforms of the Empire, she cut quite the image!
Deliberately distracting himself from that line of thought, he broached the topic on his mind. "The Political Office is planning something big. All I know is that gold is involved. They are past desperate and what foresight they ever had is long gone now."
Visha breathed in quickly and then said slowly. "Any time frame you can deduce?"
"Soon." He almost felt guilty about helping Degurechaff but he honestly considered her the lesser of the two evils... and that was saying a lot!
"Excuse me, Erich. I think Tanya would want to hear of this immediately." She tucked a bill under her plate to pay for their food and stood up abruptly. Before she left, she stopped and squeezed his arm warmly. "Thanks. You're a good friend."
He sat there, a bit stunned by the contact and her sudden departure. As he sipped his coffee, he wondered why he was avoiding thinking about the attractive woman who just left. She was no longer a minor and no longer a subordinate of his. Her obvious attractiveness, both physical and mental were considerable. Then he remembered that she was Degurechaff's 'mother'. He shuddered and resolutely put Visha back in the 'unavailable' category.
* * *
Tanya nodded as Visha gave her the news. "Ahhhh... sooner than I thought. It's good that we learned this now."
"What did we learn? Are they coming after our gold?"
Tanya looked positively grim. "No, they are coming after everyone's. They will make public ownership of gold illegal soon and will 'buy' it with worthless marks. We have at most a few days... send out word to get all our gold to the Confederacy ahead of schedule. Use foreign currencies as much as possible in our trading."
"What about silver?"
"Nnnnn... keep the silver for now. It might even see a spike in value as the gold is drawn off. Also, keep a minimal amount of necessary gold in the form of rings, jewelry and the like. Not too much in one place, make it look like personal property." She tapped her desk as she thought. "Tell our colleagues, too. There's no reason why they shouldn't protect themselves as well."
What a great ally Rerugen is! He's helping us even at risk to his own reputation and safety. I must do something for him to show our sincerity.
Given her relationship with Being X, she was loathe to celebrate anything involved with religion. But given her desire to turn one of the great religious holidays into an exercise of crass commercialism, it wouldn't be bad to start at home with a few presents. Certainly, she could easily afford a few gifts now and her network of contacts had grown dramatically.
Keep the true spirit of Christmas in mind, she planned gifts for everyone she wanted to stay in her circle of acquaintances, another group of close acquaintances and a tiny group that had become true friends. The first group got mostly gold plated pens with fine stationery, the second a selection of her the new inventions that were beginning to be produced, and the rest actual gifts that she thought through more carefully.
The men of the 203rd got bottles of fine liquor apiece and new combat gear. Survival knives based on what she remembered from the 21st century, foldable entrenching tools and a tiny hidden backup orb in the knife good for one good blast on an enemy in dire situations. (The liquor was the most popular but the rest was appreciated!)
Rudersdorf got fine cigars in a silver humidor (along with a card that begged him not to smoke them around her) and Zettour received an extending pointer and a collection of translated strategy books from the far east.
To Ugar and his family was a collection of board games they had never seen before so that he could play with his family (now working on their third child).
Rerugen himself was surprised when he received a new electric phonograph and a full set of Tanya's recordings. The note that came with it just said, "Thank you for all you've done for me. Best wishes, Tanya von Degurechaff."
He spent the rest of Christmas wondering exactly what she meant by that.
As for Visha, the two spent a very quiet Christmas together, sipping hot cocoa or coffee as the mood struck, eating treats and listening to music. Visha was surprised that Tanya didn't want to go to Christmas mass but she had come to realize that Tanya's relationships with any higher power was somewhat unusual.
Visha had given her a lovely fur-trimmed coat, much like her own, with matching boots and furry hat. In return, Tanya had given her a gold necklace with a picture charm, currently empty. Inscribed inside, in very fine letters it said, "To my friend."
"Oh, Tanya, it's lovely!" She put it on immediately.
"I'm sorry that it's just a practical gift. If you ever need to sell it, it won't bother me."
Visha looked scandalized, "As if I would!" She admired it in the mirror before sitting down again. "Merry Christmas, Tanya."
What the hell, it's just one day. "Merry Christmas to you too."
Chapter 35 - Silver Eagles
Tanya looked at the headline of the newspapers but one stood out the most... from hers, of course. "Gold Banned!" in red ink with a more detailed description below. They had scooped their competitors by having the article pre-written and from friends in the government who were aghast at the notion.
"Pride goeth before a fall... what errant nonsense. Those bureaucrats struggle under the inane belief that they understand anything at all and are constantly amazed at how screwed up the world has become. They'll take that pride to their deathbeds insisting they were right to the last breath." Both Germany's downfall and the Great Depression in my old world came from the same source... ignorant meddling by politicians. They do seem to be moving faster than what I remember, though. I'm glad we moved our assets in time.
She had made sure that her office was well-insulated with prototype double-glazed windows so she could look out on the snowy streets in relative comfort while drinking her coffee. It was a decent bean, much better than average. TvD Inc. had picked up a contract from a bankrupt import-export business and had tripled their orders in just two months (though most went to Francois and the Unified States and less to the cash-strapped Germania).
Visha had just hung up her phone (their businesses had become extensive enough that she had her own private phone, along with one for the Tanya and one general purpose phone) and said, "What are they doing so wrong?"
"Everything! Capital is like water... it'll find its natural place through the most efficient methods. Laws should only exist to prevent theft and ensure free flow of capital through the system. Trying to impede that movement is like trying to push water uphill with your bare hands. It wastes time, energy and water in the end so you have less than you started with."
She looked a largish board that had their various businesses posted on it. The display covered much of one wall and they were already talking about reducing the size of the notecards so they could fit more up there. "That's why bankruptcies aren't really a bad thing, not overall. It's a reallocation of assets from the unproductive to the productive. The reason why our businesses are doing well and theirs weren't is that they weren't good at whatever they were doing. That's it. If we ever get any enterprise we're bad at, I'll sell it immediately because someone else can do it better than me."
Visha nodded. So that's why she gave half of those farms back to their original owners. She's no farmer and wanted to give them a chance to pay back their mortgages... or so she might claim. I know, she just wanted to help them save their farms but also didn't want to waste the money of our comrades! "So the best thing they could do is... nothing at all?"
"Yes! Exactly so! It's painful in the short run but the capital will flow to the most fertile fields and everyone would benefit in the end. They can't do that, though. Why not? Useless, idiotic, horribly misplaced pride."
Just then, all three office phones rang simultaneously. Tanya picked up hers immediately, "Degurechaff." She listened for a few second and her face turned white and then red. "What?! Get our combat veterans together... all of them! I want them here before midnight!"
Visha looked up at her, visibly upset. She continued to talk on the phone. "All of it? No sign?"
Their office manager rushed from downstairs. "President! The gold shipment. It's gone!"
* * *
The mood was grim at TvD headquarters... you could almost feel anxiety coming from the gathering people. Conversations were muted and no one was talking to Tanya herself other than to answer her questions as she posed them in clipped tones. Visha organized people and tried her best to keep things moving along.
Tanya, for her part, was preternaturally calm. After her initial outburst, she simply stared at a map of Europa. Mostly unspeaking, no expression on her face, revealing nothing. Once everyone was gathered, she turned to face the room. Most were ex-military, half mages, plus a few financial sorts and her other manager-level employees.
She nodded to Hammerschmidt. "Recap the situation."
"We felt that obvious guards would draw more attention rather than less and might actually cause the shipments to be blocked at the border, so we just sent one person per each of three separate shipment and the would meet in the Confederacy on the same train with the gold disguised as different products. Then the shipments were to go to a Waldstatte bank via trucks to be deposited safely in protected accounts." He cleared his throat. "During a stop, apparently the car with the gold was switched out at a station during a stop when passengers weren't allowed to exit the train. According to our people, the replacement car was nearly identical to the correct one. Because the gold wasn't 'officially' there, we can't even protest other than for the cost of our 'cover' shipment." He sat down as if exhausted.
Tanya nodded. "There are three likely suspects. Some faction in Germania, possibly the government itself. I've discounted this as unlikely for a variety of reasons, mostly due to the location of the theft."
"The second is a group of Francois mercenaries that fled the Rhine when the war turned bloody and have been functioning as raiders along the borders of several nation during the conflicts. They were never a force to worry about but with the end of the war, they've lost their natural niche and are getting out of control. Last word is that they were in that area and their current leader is somewhat clever."
"The third... is more difficult." For a brief moment, an emotion flashed across her face but it was gone before it could register. "Our local people are fairly sure that the train couldn't have gotten far. There were enough crates that unloading would have been impossible. They got the whole car." She tapped a map of Waldstatte with the train routes laid out clearly. "If it was the Meute de Loups, they would be here or nearby. We have maybe 24 hours before the gold is broken up and distributed."
There was a silence until on veteran said, "What's the plan, Colonel?"
For once, she didn't deny the military rank. "These wolves have gotten annoying to the point where there is a bounty on their heads by most countries, including Waldstatte. Basically, as long as civilians aren't harmed, we can treat them as a hostile force. And since Waldstatte is an armed nation, we don't have to worry about onerous weapon laws."
Visha piped in. "I've registered our own mercenary company so we are within their laws and can pursue them openly."
"The plan... ahh, the plan. Step one is to find the Meute de Loups and wipe them out."
"And if they don't have the gold?"
"Then we move on to step two." She sported a predatory grin that made the less combat-hardened quail. "It seems a shame that the Confederacy missed out on all the fun of the war. We'll give them a little taste of what that's like."
* * *
Jules, leader of the Meute de Loups, looked out at the snowy Alps and scowled. He hated the snow, hated the country and most of all, hated the cold. The abandoned town near the abandoned mine had few comforts of course. It kept the snow off, barely, and was little protection against the cold.
He had no idea why he had been hired to steal the rail car and drive up the little-used mining tracks but he wasn't going to turn down easy money. The pay had been decent and the remainder would be more than welcome. Banditry had kept them in beer and hookers but that was drying up as the post-war countries started to look sharply at lawlessness within their borders.
His clients had been very clear that the cars weren't to be entered and seals had been placed on all the doors. There was no place to go out here and no way to forge those seals so they would be sitting ducks, at best if they were targeted. Better to get easy money than none.
Even if he had planned to steal something, where was there to go?
* * *
One of the reasons for Tanya's confidence that the gold hadn't gone far is that Waldstatte's winters were not to be trifled with and this was a colder, heavier winter than most. Even hardy mountain folk were loathe to travel in weather like this and did so only as necessary. There were only a very limited number of places the gold could have gone and moving it through a snowstorm was unlikely.
She looked over her soldiers, wishing she could have the full 203rd behind her. What she had was the youngest members of the 203rd (who were force retired like herself) and assorted others, some who were medically discharged.
And, of course, always Visha.
"Here's the breakdown: everyone who can handle a rifle and an orb will go with me after the bandits. We'll be leaving in an hour. Everyone else will follow Vice President Serebryakov to where the rest of the train went. There's a bare possibility this is just a horrible mix up. Gather intel, watch for movement, but wait until we join you."
A grizzled sergeant lacking an eye spoke up. He had enough fire in his other to make up for it. "Colonel, what will do about orbs? We had to turn ours in when we decommissioned."
"Officially we acquired war surplus orbs too damaged to be of use for anything dangerous. Unofficially, we have some very good technicians that can do amazing things. Plus we have captured orbs, mostly from the Republic, that are usable. You can familiarize yourself with them on the way."
"Got the rifles the same way, eh" He chortled.
"It's amazing how happy they are to get rid of stockpiles deemed 'scrap' without having to worry about the details. Group one will fly, group two by transport. I apologize but you'll be sitting on fuel cans for most of the trip. Try to sleep as much as you can on the way."
"Alright, everyone get geared up! Serebryakov, please."
Group one was rather amazed at the quality of their gear. The orbs, though refurbished were still tuned and carefully stored. They had insulated gear in a mottled white pattern including their rifles. Everyone also had snow goggles and white painted survival gear. Group two had more standard equipment, but all was in excellent repair. Visha explained. "Group two, mostly, will be out in the open, so there's no need for camouflage."
All the uniforms had an eagle emblem. Tanya looked at the logo and glanced at Visha. She said matter-of-factly, "I had to use SOME name so I chose Silver Eagles."
"Ahem. It's better than 'fairy'. Well done."
With minutes to spare, two large transports drove away into the snowy night.
Chapter 36: Twelve drummers drumming
At the city limits, the mages quickly took off, dashing into the early evening like ghosts with their white gear and silent flight, leaving nothing but eddies of snow in the air that quickly vanished.
The effectiveness of a rapidly deployed mage battalion (though much reduced in numbers) was proven again. Their destination was barely five hours away without pushing their speed at all. As half their computation jewels weren't up to the standards of the Type-97s, this was more than sufficient.
One regret Tanya had was that she didn't have her usual navigator, Visha, or any of the other more experienced members of the 203rd to handle those chores. On the other hand, she made it clear with just a few words that she expected even the youngest 'graduates' from her old battalion to be able to make their way to any spot on the planet if they had a clear night sky and a pocket watch.
In the past, they would have quaked in fear at even a hint of threat from her but now they were so thrilled to be back in action with their commander, that they took it all in stride. Needless to say, they didn't get lost.
She looked at her troops and mentally tut-tutted at their age. By law and necessity, they were all underaged or barely adults. To have her entire platoon made up of such youngsters was bizarre in her eyes... in the past they had at least been mixed in with more adult adults.
Tanya forgot that she looked, and was, younger than any of them and made the scene even more surreal.
"The town is ahead and it should only have the Loups inside. Scout the perimeter, don't be seen."
All but two nodded and vanished into the night, their garb causing them to blend in almost immediately. Tanya floated from on high, noting that only a few windows in the entire town showed and sign of life or light. The train tracks led along the village and directly into the mine. She presumed the car was in there, out of the snow but also harder to approach easily.
After 20 minutes, her scouts had regathered. "There don't appear to be any real lookouts anywhere, Colonel. A few men are looking out the windows and there are two at the mouth of the cave but they are not spending much time keeping watch. Only two of the buildings are occupied."
"Excellent. The peace-loving and democratic nations of Europa have decided that this band of thieves, murderers and rapists have exhausted their breathing rights. Therefore, we will carry out the will of the people today. Keep a few alive because we need intel... just in case. Above all, I expect each and every one of you to return alive AND unharmed. If anyone I trained allows this motley band of yahoos to get the jump on you, you WILL wish they had killed you. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am!"
"On my mark, I want everyone to fire one volley and then wait for my signal. Reports say there are twenty odd, so save a few for later. Go."
They nodded and returned to the night. It would have been easier, far easier, to just blast the buildings into kindling but it would be hard to question anyone afterwards. She floated above everything, scanning the town with new, snow camouflage binoculars. Visha had the only other pair with her but she expected to sell a lot of them to the army someday. After giving her men enough time to get into position, she fired a quick flare above the town... invisible to the bandits huddled inside the poorly insulated houses but painfully clear to her company.
As if acting on one will, rifle shots rang out from all directions. Screams of pain were few as lethal hits were far more common than those that merely injured. Confused yelling mixed with harsh commands in shouted Francois. Tanya's hearing, always good, had been enhanced the longer she used her new magicks. She could spot the bandits' commander by sound alone, and waited for a minute for them to panic and partially regroup and then indicated with glowing arrows for the smaller house and the mine to receive a second volley.
The sound of yelling decreased remarkably after that.
Satisfied that their numbers had been reduced sufficiently, she concentrated her hearing on the remaining house... Five, no six left judging by the sounds. Their heartbeats were fast and loud... and out-of-rhythm cacophony of drumming. She focused carefully as she lifted her rifle, visualizing where each heart was through the flimsy walls. One, two, three. Three of the little drums stopped one after the other.
The others increased tempo as if to make up the difference.
* * *
Rerugen finally allowed himself to listen to one of Degurechaff's recordings. Certainly, she had caused him enough grief in the past but he was very tentatively willing to admit she might be leaning away form her homicidal nature this past year. Even he couldn't blame her for whatever damage occurred when targeted by assassins! He had put it off long enough so, after work, he steeled himself and
He put a random selection on her other gift: the new electric phonograph. It was a delight to use and the sound quality was superb. He sat back and, setting aside his prejudices with effort, he strove to listen with unbiased ears.
She was good.
She was really, really good.
Frankly, he was amazed at the quality of her voice, the masterful vocal control, and the gut punch of emotion in her songs. While people could lie with words, he found it hard to believe she could sing so powerfully without feeling the same emotions. Songs of joy, of loss, of love, of sorrow. And, other than the very few covers, they were all original to her.
Is this where her life would have gone had she not been a war orphan? Was her path truly as an artist and was only in the military as a choice of desperation? Not only that, but her accomplishments as a businesswoman had drawn a lot of attention. When all market news was bad, even being mediocre made one stand out. And she was far from mediocre.
He imagined how her life would have gone... a stable family recognizing her talent would have have supported her career. She would achieve fame and her razor-sharp intelligence would turn her into a force majeure of the entertainment world. Not the Devil of the Rhine, but Queen of the Radio.
A polite knock interrupted his musings. One of his assistants was standing there, Verland he recalled. "Sorry to bother you, General, but you asked me to keep you up to date on anything noteworthy involving her." He nodded toward the phonograph. "Huh. That's pretty good. I thought it was just hype but it sounds nice."
"The news, lieutenant?"
"Oh! Yes, sir. TvD has established a mercenary company."
"What?! When?!" He was shaken out of his reverie by the news. "What reason does their charter state?"
"Yesterday and I believe it was 'to protect business interests'. She also queried about several notorious international criminal organizations at the same time."
In Rerugen's mind, certain facts clicked into place: She had formed a mercenary company. She was the largest employer of ex-soldiers currently. She even hired out-of-work foreign mages from downsized armies. She bought massive quantities of army surplus. To him, that could only mean one thing. Mein Gott, he thought, Since she can't be in the army, she's making her OWN army! Under the veneer of respectability, yes, but she can't stop her bloodlust!
In the background, Tanya's voice singing, "These are a few of my favorite things!" went unnoticed by the two men.
* * *
"Time to talk to the thieves. But since they are criminals and, therefore on average, likely to be very, very stupid, I'll need to talk loudly." She shot up another glowing beacon but this time it was a stylized monkey holding its ears. She watched and made sure that her troops her their hearing protection in place. As they did so, she pondered a bit.
Hmmmm... what should I choose? Wait, what was they played against Noriega? This is a 'Just Cause' so let's go with Martha.
She opened her mouth and her computation orb (a fully refurbished Type 97) began to glow brilliantly and soon the sound began to beat down on the hapless criminals. At volumes that would shatter rocks, much less human bodies, she sang!
Nowhere to run to baby, Nowhere to hide!
You got Nowhere to run to baby, Nowhere to hide!
It's not love you're runnin' from,
Just the heartbreak you know will come
Cause I know you're no good for me (You're no good)
But you've become dead to me!
She modified the lyrics a lot but since she was likely the only one who understood the words even if their eardrums weren't blasted open by the volume. She kept it until the last chorus and then waved her men in. Minutes later they dragged two twitching bodies out. She landed lightly near them and asked with a raised eyebrow. "Only two?"
"Last one shot himself ma'am." he grinned widely. "Guess he wasn't a music lover!"
"Guards in the cave?"
"Winged the one when he came to check out the noise. The other took one in the head. All clear in there."
"Good work, men! I couldn't have asked for better. Keep an eye on these yahoos and check the houses. I'm going to look in the rail car."
She flew over with an ease that still amazed her soldiers, as if she were born to fly. The seal on the car, mostly there to make tampering evident and not as a real impediment, didn't even last a second as her magically powered bayonet blade sliced it off, leaving the sheared ends of the metal glowing briefly before fading.
The soldiers kept track of the three survivors who were barely recovering from the audio assault in two cases and taking a bullet in the shoulder in the last case. Inside the train car, they saw lights come on and shine through cracks and small holes that any structure had. The lights became suddenly brighter and they heard banging from inside. Suddenly, Tanya burst out and flew back faster some ten times her earlier speed. She grabbed one of the men and flew him through a building, using his body as a battering ram to knock down the walls.
On the other side, she finally stopped and screamed at him at stunning volumes NOT aided by an orb, "Where the fuck is my gold?!"
Chapter 37 - Withdrawal Slip
Though dressed in new uniforms depicting their mercenary company, group 2 didn't look very menacing at first glance. The veterans had a steely look in their eyes but they were mostly over age, or obviously crippled in one way or another. The only one of fighting age and complete in body was the enchantingly attractive Viktoriya Serebryakov. If mercenaries were considered irregular troops, her squad was more irregular than most.
There were no complaints about the forced drive to their destination. Old hands, they were able to sleep in the noisy, smelly transport vehicle with little more than cold fuel cans for bedding. Certainly their leader had long learned to sleep when she could on the Rhine and elsewhere following behind White Silver.
They had switched off drivers at every refueling so everyone was in fit shape as they neared their destination. "Captain? We're getting close."
Visha snapped out of sleep in an instant, automatically reaching for her rifle. Were anyone present familiar with wartime Tanya, they'd recognize this habit they shared. She blinked, a bit disoriented. I slipped back into old habits so easily. The war is over out there, but not inside, apparently. I suppose I can't complain, they kept me alive. And Tanya of course.
Just outside of the city she told them, "There are no used branches of the railway along this route other than the one the Colonel took. Weather conditions barely let us through on these transports and they wouldn't risk a train on these grades with ice on the tracks. If she hasn't already found the shipment, then it's in this city somewhere. So, until we hear word from her, we are to scout out the situation but absolutely prevent transportation of the cargo out of the city."
One old-timer asked, "How do we know they haven't already moved it? Hard ain't the same thing as impossible."
"We can't be certain but we know that our people here have been keeping an eye on things as best they could with limited personnel. Plus we have arrived far faster than could have expected. And in far greater numbers. Given the weather and how cumbersome the cargo would be, if it made it here, it's still here."
She pulled out a map. "I want mages at all roads leading out. Anything that looks like it could be hauling that much gold, sound the alarm and we'll gather on you. Those boxes are far too heavy for a private vehicle so it'll be obvious. Don't try to intercept them yourselves! A small flight can make light work of whatever they might have waiting but I don't want anyone taken out by a lucky shot." She grinned. "If you are certain that you have the right transports, go ahead of them and sabotage the road. A downed tree, a rockslide or even a little avalanche will send them back home when they get there."
Her grin sent chills down the spines of even some of the long-time veterans. She spoke so casually of actions they hadn't even considered outside a time of war. Truly, the 203rd was not to be trifled with and most certainly not the right hand of White Silver, herself! Though her mages were all wounded from the Great War, each still had at least one eye to see with and one hand to hold a weapon... it would be enough.
"The rest will be with me. Shameful though it is, they may not take a 'mere girl' as seriously as you veterans."
"Ha! Only if they are idiots... which they would have to be to steal from von Degurechaff! If some old wolves with will help with that, we'll do our part, Major." Though not mages, these men were forged in the only crucible hot enough to create steel of their caliber, war.
"Good then? Okay, dismissed!"
* * *
Rerugen was poring over the information his adjutant had managed to dig up for him. She didn't have just a few businesses under her control, there were dozens, perhaps as many as two hundred! Many of them were very small, a tiny farm, a little shop but the total was simply staggering. What was even more disturbing was the number of them that employed mages or veterans. Though the justifications were flimsy, all the mages had some reason to have an orb even if it weren't combat-quality. Aerial mages to take better photos. Explosive experts to assist mining concerns. Magic researchers to help with dangerous compounds. A new service where 'paramedics' would fly to victims and stabilize them before ambulances could arrive. 'Parachuting' but with magic rather than silk.
The last annoyed him in particular because he viewed that as a sign that she was trying to make the world a better place after the horrors of war! He had enthusiastically signed off on the flight exemption after reading her moving description: 'Time is of the essence in critical care situations. I've seen many men die because medical help didn't arrive an hour, or even a minute earlier.' Just last week, there was a moving account in the papers (and hers naturally!) of a mage bursting into a burning building, kept a child alive with oxygen spells and flew her to the hospital before the fire department had even arrived. After that, the exemption was made and her magimedics were in business in Berun.
The populace dubbed them the Angel Wing but Rerugen could only imagine them as potential soldiers now... dressed in white but ready for war!
Once the precedent had been set, there were more to come. A courier service that quickly became essential in Berun but also nearby cities. Entertainers and illusionists for theater productions. And the list went on. Limited orbs for crippled veterans. She had argued strongly that they had served the Empire with honor and it was shameful to deny them a simple tool to improve their lives. Having gotten a black eye for their treatment of the ex-military in the past, they had quietly signed off on that one lest she take to the court of public opinion again.
"How did she found so many companies so quickly?"
The adjutant tried to respond quickly as he sensed his superior's mood was none-too-good. "Most were simply acquired in bankruptcy. She founded a few as her engineers came up with new inventions." He glanced at Rerugen's electric phonograph but had the sense not to mention it aloud. "But for a few, she has done something so radical, I can't really describe it adequately."
"Go on." He said, his voice steely.
"Yes sir! I heard this from several subordinates of hers who were more than enthusiastic to explain her methods. When someone has an idea that sounds reasonable, they go to her or the Vice President and proposes it. If it sounds reasonable, she gives them money and tells them to 'give it a try'. All them were gushing at how they enjoyed the freedom to explore new ideas without having their elbows jogged."
Rerugen was very still as he analyzed this novel idea. This is an extension of something she told me years ago. Find good subordinates and just let them do their jobs with minimal direction. It's nearly the ultimate decentralized force, but this time in civilian form. Instead of body count, she's measuring success in marks. But what if her command was, 'make a business that employs mages' and just let her people come up with the justifications?
"And these foreign mages?"
The man looked uncomfortable. "Well, apparently with the end of the Great War, most militaries downgraded their mage forces as a cost-saving measure. She hired them at decent wages and put them to work, usually in their home countries. The same kind of jobs as here, mostly. She's quite popular in the Republic and, other than Germanian mages, they make up most of her magical workforce."
"From the Republic."
"Ah, yes. Most who held grudges against her are, well, dead. The remaining were bitter over their treatment during and after the war by their government. She approached them as a fellow veteran who was also ill-treated. When other businesses started thinking about hiring those fellows, most were already working for her, and apparently quite pleased to do so."
With great effort, Rerugen calmed himself down. So she has amassed a loyal, international group of ex-soldiers, spread out far enough not to cause alarm. She has farms and factories to produce supplies. Researchers to make new inventions. Logistics to move everything around and now, the final piece, she has a mercenary charter to make use of all that. With her brilliant strategic mind and unorthodox strategies, she could even take out a small country. But would just that satisfy her?
"It's rather amazing what she's done in such a short time, eh, General? It almost seems like the military was holding her back and now that she's a civilian, she can really reach her potential."
"Holding her back... holding her back. You might be more right than you know. At least twice by my count, if she had been allowed to have her way, the war would have ended sooner with Germania the winner." That way was through blood and destruction but undoubtedly sooner.
"Sir?! Is that a fact?"
He looked at the clock, it was hours after quitting time. He poured himself a drink and one for his adjutant. "Not officially. Not even spoken out loud, but yes, that is my belief. I think it haunts her to this day that if she had had just a tiny bit more power, a little more influence, the Empire would have won and she would be the architect of the victory. What would that do to someone so young who had only known war and victory? Her defeats were not at the hands of foreign powers but..." He stopped, glass half raised to his lips. The other man tried to say something but he waved him silent.
She was always a proponent of removing all ability of an enemy to wage war... but WHO is her enemy now? The Francois were well on her way to making her a national treasure. The Dacians and she were working hand in hand. Her albums were selling in Anglish-speaking countries like ice in July. Wasn't her true enemy...?
Oh, scheisse!
* * *
Visha did a final calculation as she looked at her wristwatch. It was a fine piece of machinery, almost as good as her trusty Type-97. In fact, they had a similar background as the techniques used to build one had advanced the other technology as well. Waldstatte was a bit peeved that some of the best watches were now made in the Empire, even after the war had taken its toll. In fact, it had accelerated as the former Germanian orb makers, restricted by treaty, now turned their skills to civilian purposes.
Inscribed in gold under the lens glass was the "TvD" logo. The majority of the out-of-work machinists were working for the corporation now, and generally earning more than they had for the military. The same men were also in charge of repairing and maintaining what orbs they did have, even modifying them at times.
"Okay, it's time. Head out!" She walked with confidence into the main office of Zurcher Kantonalbank, flanked by Team 2. Conversations came to an end as they marched into the lobby in their matching new uniforms. Both workers and customers stared at the phalanx of mercenaries led by their own Valkyrie. "We're here to see Herr Meier. Send him out." Her normally friendly tone was clipped and military, no nonsense, no warmth.
"Y-yes ma'am." The secretary rushed into an office without knocking. 'Meier' was stenciled on the door in precise letters. "Miss Andressen, I've told you repeatedly..."
"Sir, you have important clients here. You really need to come out."
"Hrumph. We'll speak of this later." He pried his rather portly frame out of his chair. Though his suit was exceedingly well made, it was getting worn on the sides where it rubbed against the leather. He trundled out to the lobby and stopped suddenly as he saw Visha and her men.
"Ah, how may I help you miss...?"
"You may call me Vice President Serebryakov. You'll find that I'm the co-officer of TvD and a customer of this bank."
"Ahem. Yes, m'dear."
The oldest veteran frowned and growled. "That's Vice President."
"Yes, yes, yes. What do you need today?" He felt the tiniest prickling of sweat forming. Though the girl was young and the men were old, they felt dangerous and a faint existential fear began to curl around his spine.
She looked around. "Is this normally where you conduct business?"
"N-no, of course not. Please, come this way." He scurried to a conference room with them behind him. "May we get you refreshm..."
"That will not be necessary. We won't be here that long." She sat but the men remained at attention around her. Meier sat opposite her, worried at what she would say – or do – next.
She just looked at him and the silence grew longer until the tension became near unbearable. Finally, he spoke. "You're business today, Vice President?"
"There are two ways things can go today, Herr Meier. As long as we are speaking and I hear what I need to hear, that will be the easy way. Once the President arrives, then you will have chosen the hard way by default. The very, very hard way."
He tried to speak but his throat was overly dry.
She continued without his input. "We entrusted your bank with a shipment of valuable metals, primarily gold, but also other items. All you need to say, and do, is tell me that our shipment has arrived here safely, show me the shipment, and give me a receipt."
"B-but Vice President, it has NOT arrived."
Visha shook her head. She looked down at her watch without speaking, just letting the silence mount. "This is very foolish of you, Meier. Every second you waste means you want the hard way. You seem like a man who is well-insulated from the troubles of the world. Waldstatte as well, yes? Millions of deaths all around you and your hands are still so clean." She looked at him levelly and he imagined he could see the deaths she had witnessed behind her eyes. "Still, even behind tall mountains and the sturdy walls of the institution you may have heard of the 'Devil of the Rhine'?"
"Yes," he said faintly.
"Ah, very good. That should make your choice easier. The President hates that nickname, honestly, but to those who oppose her, it's quite appropriate. And she's on her way here right now. And she is NOT happy." She leaned forward, put both her hands on the conference table and leaned over him as if she were seven feet tall and not five and change. "The only thing that will make her happy is to find that what belongs to her is safe."
"M-m-m-m..."
"Do you go to church, Herr Meier?"
He nodded quickly, without words.
"Then you might have heard this quote? 'For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?' Herr Meier... the Devil is coming for your soul right now and those tiny little things are all that's keeping her from claiming it. Do we really have to do this the hard way?"
What little courage he had, he mustered and said with only a slight quaver, "I cannot help you. The gold is not here."
Just then, Visha's watch made a tiny chiming sound. She shook her head. "Ah, it's too late for you, Herr Meier. I hope you survive to regret your decision."