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"Deadly Negotiations"
Rating: PG-13 To my American friends: "solicitor" equals "lawyer" as in someone who specializes in legal documents and other areas, as opposed to "barrister", which is like a prosecutor/defense attorney in court.( in case you get confused by Malcolm's terminology) R/S implied. Two Again, Guillem Montclaire surprised them all. Instead of a grand gala, he opted for a small gathering in Bellevue’s gardens, with only family and guests in attendance. Although the homecoming party was smaller than Travis had expected, Guillem hadn’t spared any cost. The current head of EdML hired an exclusive Centaurian catering service, which provided the food and decor. Chairs and tables were arranged under a huge tent in the main garden, all festooned with EdML’s blue and gold colors. The floral arrangements had been artfully done in small baskets and the full fury of the Centaurian sun cast shadows inside the tent. “Almost feels just like home,” Philippe commented. He sat at one of the tables with a glass of champagne in his hand. Travis thought he looked more relaxed since his father’s death. “We used to do this a lot; my mother was a superb hostess. I keep thinking that if I look over my shoulder, she’ll be there.” Travis sighed and sipped from his own glass. “She planned these social events?” “That’s what she loved to do. She was the company’s social and hospitality director. Father took care of the business side, while she wined and dined the clients and investors. She made a lot of friends...and equally as many enemies.” Philippe said, his voice quiet. “There are a lot of people on the list of suspects, Travis, too many for me to count.” “You believe your parents’ deaths weren’t natural?” Travis covered his unease with a glance around the inside of the tent. He spotted Guillem Montclaire talking with Malcolm Reed; Guillem noticed his scrutiny. Travis grinned and lifted his glass in a salute. Guillem returned the smile and the salute. “I believe they were...convenient.” Philippe didn’t have a chance to explain his suspicions further, for a string of cousins approached him. Immediately, they enfolded him in huge perfumed hugs, chattering all the while. To his credit, Philippe became the charming, smiling, young man that Travis had only seen glimpses of since meeting him on the Enterprise. It’s amazing to see the transformation, Travis mused. He remembered seeing a pile of lunch invitations on the wall board in Philippe’s quarters on the Enterprise. Philippe may have been low-key in Starfleet, but here, he seemed to be completely within his element. Does that mean he’ll leave Enterprise to run EdML, just like his mother wanted? Or will he return to Starfleet? Travis honestly had no idea. Philippe hadn’t said anything one way or the other, and when Travis pressed the issue, he only sidestepped the important question. Perhaps Philippe wasn’t sure himself. Guillem’s voice suddenly caught Travis’s attention. “Perhaps, Monsieur Reed, you would ask your fiancee to go over the transaction documents? I understand she is a woman of words.” “She isn’t my fiancee, and she’s a linguist, not a solicitor.” Guillem seemed taken aback. “Pardon. My nephew had told me about your lovely lady, and I naturally assumed...well, my thought was that she might possibly catch any mistakes or misunderstandings in the paperwork before I formally transfer control of the company to Philippe. I want to make sure there aren’t any future legal entanglements that my nephew might have to deal with.” Oh, he sounds so sincere, Travis fumed. As far as he knew, Philippe hadn’t said one word about Hoshi Sato. Guillem must have known about Malcolm’s and her relationship through his spies on the Ragnarok. And the smirk on Guillem’s face as he talked about the “lovely lady”...Travis saw a dangerous glint in Malcolm’s eyes, although the armory officer’s face kept its look of polite interest. “I’ll have to ask her if she’s willing to do so,” Malcolm finally said. “She has her obligations elsewhere.” “I understand if she is unable to make the time. Captain Archer must have great need of her services.” Travis turned his head to see Philippe still in the middle of the group of cousins, but they were migrating out of the tent and into the gardens. No, not migrating. They’re herding him. I’d better follow them and make sure he’ll be okay. He picked up his glass of champagne and strolled towards one of the waitstaff. The young woman offered him a full glass, which he accepted with a nod. In the glass’s reflection, he saw Philippe heading towards a granite bench with his entourage hanging onto him. Philippe sat on the bench with his cousins arrayed around him, like a king with his courtiers. It would have been highly amusing, if Travis thought it was as innocent as it seemed. “Sir,” a soft voice broke into his thoughts. “McKenzie?” he asked, just as softly. The MACO captain appeared at his side as if she was a wraith. “I’ll keep an eye on him, sir. Kemper’s on his far side, where the peanut gallery can’t see him. If they try anything, we’ll stop them.” “Thanks, Captain. I really appreciate it.” “That’s our job, Lieutenant.” McKenzie gave him a ghost of a smile, then she exited the tent. As he watched her go, Travis thought, She learned a lot from Major Hayes. Hell, she’s beginning to even sound like him. And for the first time, Travis added, I wonder if the major would’ve taken this assignment if Malcolm had asked him. He took another sip of his champagne and stepped out of tent. True to her words, McKenzie had already vanished from sight, but Travis still felt her presence. Philippe waved to him gaily and he made his way towards him. Philippe gently took a pair of hands off his shoulders; the cousin pouted, but kept her paws to herself. “A plus tard, mon cherie,” he said in a friendly but firm voice. “Travis! I do believe you haven’t met my gaggle of relatives here. They’re very eager to meet you.” “Uh...hello,” Travis stuttered as five pairs of hungry eyes focused on him. They sized him up like a wolf gazing at its prey. Or a bunch of Orion women at an all-male harem. He felt those eyes weighing him, evaluating his potential, and the force of it made him hesitate. Philippe, I’m gonna get you for this... That hesitation saved his life. There was no warning at all. The next thing he knew, a body slammed into his, knocking him out of the way of a laser. He hit the ground hard, stunned. “Sir? Lieutenant?” “What the hell—?” he managed to gasp. Another volley passed over him and forced him flat onto the ground again. “Someone’s shooting at us! Where’s Philippe?” Travis lifted his head to see Philippe crouched behind the granite bench, another MACO at his side. Travis recognized the sandy-haired man: Sergeant Nate Kemper. The bench wasn’t much cover, but at least it was some cover. The empty-headed cousins had fled out of the line of fire. “Start crawling to your left.” McKenzie’s voice in his ear made him jump. “There’re some bushes there. I’m right behind you.” Travis did as she directed. He heard commotion from behind him, from the tent, but he couldn’t spare a minute to look at what was going on. A rustle alerted him and he reacted without conscious thought. He rolled out of the way as a line of laser fire stitched the ground he’d been laying on. He could feel the burn of the lasers, smell the singe of his uniform after the near miss. There was a shriek, then a curse as McKenzie half stumbled, half-crawled to his side. He saw blood oozing out of her shoulder and had to swallow to keep his gorge down. The shot had passed through her right arm, but she still held her phase rifle in her left hand. Travis swore, then glanced over his own shoulder. A pair of cold eyes glared at him from a rose bush and the sunlight glinted on the barrel... McKenzie raised the phase rifle and fired a quick shot. It didn’t hit the sniper, but it did disrupt his aim, and the shot went wide. The movement was too much for her and the rifle fell from her nerveless fingers. Travis scooped it up, pushing aside the realization that the trigger was slick with her blood. “Hang on, Fiona,” he whispered harshly. “I’m gonna get that son-of-a-bitch.” “Don’t—“ she whispered. “Don’t do something stupid.” Travis’s eyes scanned the foliage in the garden, but the sniper was gone. A soft crack of a broken twig alerted Travis to his new location. The sniper was not aiming not for Travis, but for Philippe. Kemper knelt between the sniper and his target, but he knew that the MACO would be the first to fall. “Nate! Philippe! DOWN!” Kemper reacted swiftly, pulling Philippe further under the bench and protecting him with his own body. At the same time, Travis fired the phaser rifle into the bushes. A second beam slammed into the sniper from behind, while a third knocked him sideways. His body tumbled out of the bushes and didn’t move again. “Travis!” Malcolm appeared from a stand of lemon trees. Another woman stepped out from a set of foliage to Travis’s right. She wore the blue-and-gold of EdML’s security force. Travis realized that they had fired the second and third laser beams. Philippe struggled to his knees, despite Kemper’s attempts to hold him back. “Call a medic! Fiona’s hurt!” Travis put a hand on McKenzie’s neck and found a weak pulse. He stripped his uniform jacket, wrapped it around her shoulder and arm, and pulled it tight to stem the bleeding. A man in a formal Centaurian suit rushed to his side, a medkit strapped to his belt. “Je m’appelle Bernard. Je suis medicin, Monsieur Travis,” he told him. Travis nodded and allowed Doctor Bernard to attend to Fiona. He straightened and went towards Malcolm, Philippe and the security chief, passing Kemper on the way. “A doctor’s with her, Nate. Make sure she pulls through.” “Yes, sir.” Kemper gave him an odd look. "I owe her my life. I don't want her to die." "We'll make sure she doesn't, sir." Kemper nodded once, then went to McKenzie’s side. By the time Travis reached Philippe, the younger man was staring down at the sniper’s body. With a jerk, he grabbed hold of the man’s hood and pulled it off his head. Empty blue eyes stared into the bushes, his mouth pulled into a grimace. Philippe’s mouth tightened. “You know him?” Travis asked. “His name is Truman Fitzgerald,” Philippe said, his voice soft with controlled fury. “He works for Tanaka Enterprises.” |
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