Free When Diplomacy Fails . . . by Michael Z. Williamson

tension between the two, but it seemed to be up from JessieM and not down from Highland. Doting worship? Romantic? It wasn’t really relevant, as JessieM only mattered as an aside. Highland was sociopathic and narcissistic, which was not at all healthy, but common enough at her level of power, and meant little would bother her unless her worldview got shaken down. If they did wind up in the brush in a tent, she’d possibly fall apart, or act even more regal and demanding. She’d largely disregard anyone else unless she felt they were controlling her, then he’d need a lot of tranquilizers. He had four types that overlapped in effect.
    He sighed inside. On the one hand, he’d so much prefer to be back on the Big Island in his comfortable home, watching the lava. On the other, this not only paid for that, but led to personal growth. As lovely as Hawaii was, it was too pleasant to offer any challenge.
    As to the team, they were healthy enough and would become their effective gestalt with some renewed association. He would recommend another bout of training after this. Real missions actually took the edge off, rather than honing it, much like using a scalpel dulled it.
    Getting back to the present, he called the base clinic.
    “Outpost Freedom Medical Facility, this is not a secure contact, how may I help you?”
    “Yes, this is Doctor Mbuto. I am with the BuState element and need to talk to the administrator.”
    “Stand by, please, I will connect you to two four seven.”
    In only a moment, a pleasant female answered. Middle aged, likely Portuguese.
    “This is Doctor Caoila.”
    “Yes, ma’am, I am Horace Mbuto, surgeon and medical contact for Ripple Creek Security. Our element is providing security for Ms. Highland.”
    “Yes, Doctor. Your Mr. Vaughn spoke to me a few days ago.”
    “Excellent. I hope that we will not have need of your services.”
    “As do I. Mr. Vaughn briefed me that in an emergency you will probably not identify a casualty, nor any details, but simply state what equipment you need on arrival.”
    “Correct. Neither the patient’s name nor status is revealed as far as possible, much as with military OPSEC.”
    “I understand, and we are set up for similar events. I presume there is a relevant BuState clearance code similar to the military ones?”
    “I’m positive there is, but I do not know it. I can have our Agent in Charge contact you regarding that.”
    “That would be appreciated. At some point, the admin details must be completed or someone will grind their teeth.”
    “Of course. Also, if there is a mass casualty event and we are not out on escort, it’s possible I can be available to assist. Mr. Vaughn is also an experienced paramedic, so you may call us both. Please understand that we must place Ms. Highland’s safety above anyone else’s.”
    “That must be aggravating for you professionally, but I understand and appreciate it.”
    “I hope our encounters are all this relaxed. Good day.”
    “Thank you, Doctor.”
    He could only hope it really did work that smoothly, if needed. There were usually frictions between them and local authority, and between departments. Though Highland’s obvious status might help, since any emergency might reasonably be assumed to involve her.
    It would likely be interesting, which is why he got paid.

    Jason was quite glad to be back with the team. He’d been a complete pariah upon arrival, though he’d made most of the connections he needed to. Now all the planning got gutted by reality.
    He, Alex, Aramis and Elke sat in his room, since he, Jason could most easily clear this one against intrusion, and had done so twice today. So far, there were no signs of eavesdropping, but in this society, there would be sooner or later. Everyone wanted some kind of hold.
    Alex still looked pissed from the fake attack earlier. If that’s how this bitch was going to play things, Jason didn’t blame him. He wondered if part of the reason they were hired