that.”
“My personal observations validate the accuracy of this report,” the cop said to his own recording computer. “About the admiral?”
Vicky took over, trying to be as dispassionate as Mr. Smith. “He was standing beside me on the same step of the escalator. We had just stepped aboard and begun the descent. We were still in plain view from the station’s A deck. I bent to show him something I had bought, a necklace. He took the bullet intended for me. I left one of my servants to care for him and ran up the escalator with my other servant. I saw Mr. Smith approaching the fallen person. I initially mistook her for a man. Since Mr. Smith had the present threat well in hand, I and my servant concentrated on identifying any other threats. We found none and then your good men and women arrived,” she said, with a wave of her hand at all the armed people surrounding her. “The rest you know.”
Only after she had finished her statement did it dawn on Vicky that she had totally forgotten to use her Imperial “We.”
Oh shit.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Bob, do we have someone down on the pier who can report on the admiral?”
“Yes, sir. I sent four down to take pictures and secure the scene.”
“We would like to take Admiral Gort’s body with us,” Vicky said. “We are due to depart immediately. We have been ordered to return to court by the fastest means possible.”
Fortunately, the senior police officer did not ask why someone ordered home in such a hurry was stopping at Savannah for a shopping spree. He did not miss the return of the Imperial voice.
“I think we can release the body to you,” the senior agent said.
“Sir,” said the one identified as Bob.
“Son, do you think anyone on Savannah wants to keep the Grand Duchess waiting?” He turned to Vicky. “How long were you here? Two hours, and we’ve already got two dead. She’s as bad as a visit from Kris Longknife. No offense meant,” the cop added.
“None taken,” Vicky said, not at all sure if she’d been praised or condemned.
What she needed to do was get out of here. Her knees were beginning to shake. If she didn’t get moving, she might even start to weep. That was not what Kris Longknife would do.
“Then, if you are finished with us, Captain Hoffman, we need to discuss the impact of this event on our future plans with the surviving officers of our escort.”
“Yes, Your Grace, you may go, and as soon as we have our pictures, I will release your admiral’s body.”
One of the Marines offered Vicky his helmet and his armored jacket. She declined, but did allow herself to be guided by the captain toward the stairs. Surrounded by guards with rifles pointed out at any threat, she descended to the pier.
A medical team was just beginning to remove the admiral’s body. Vicky quick-marched for the
Stalker
, crossed the quarterdeck as a civilian, and headed for the admiral’s cabin. There, Vicky collapsed on the settee before fixing Captain Hoffman with a stern look.
“How much do you know about the real intention of this trip?”
“What do you mean, real intentions?” was not what she wanted to hear.
CHAPTER12
V ICKY swung her legs around to rest them on the settee. Across the table from her, Captain Hoffman stood at something close to attention. Her team of Kit, Kat, and Mr. Smith arrayed themselves close, but not so close as to force themselves into Vicky and Captain Hoffman’s conversation.
“How much do you know about the various missions Admiral Gort was on?” Vicky asked again.
The chief of staff looked puzzled. “We were to show the flag and return any survivors from the Fleet of Discovery that we encountered to Greenfeld,” he said.
“And . . . ?” Vicky said and emphasized the question with a raised eyebrow.
“And . . . nothing?” the captain said, shaking his head in puzzlement.
“So you know nothing about the bribes the admiral took.”
The captain was shaking his head, now in
“My personal observations validate the accuracy of this report,” the cop said to his own recording computer. “About the admiral?”
Vicky took over, trying to be as dispassionate as Mr. Smith. “He was standing beside me on the same step of the escalator. We had just stepped aboard and begun the descent. We were still in plain view from the station’s A deck. I bent to show him something I had bought, a necklace. He took the bullet intended for me. I left one of my servants to care for him and ran up the escalator with my other servant. I saw Mr. Smith approaching the fallen person. I initially mistook her for a man. Since Mr. Smith had the present threat well in hand, I and my servant concentrated on identifying any other threats. We found none and then your good men and women arrived,” she said, with a wave of her hand at all the armed people surrounding her. “The rest you know.”
Only after she had finished her statement did it dawn on Vicky that she had totally forgotten to use her Imperial “We.”
Oh shit.
“Thank you, Your Grace. Bob, do we have someone down on the pier who can report on the admiral?”
“Yes, sir. I sent four down to take pictures and secure the scene.”
“We would like to take Admiral Gort’s body with us,” Vicky said. “We are due to depart immediately. We have been ordered to return to court by the fastest means possible.”
Fortunately, the senior police officer did not ask why someone ordered home in such a hurry was stopping at Savannah for a shopping spree. He did not miss the return of the Imperial voice.
“I think we can release the body to you,” the senior agent said.
“Sir,” said the one identified as Bob.
“Son, do you think anyone on Savannah wants to keep the Grand Duchess waiting?” He turned to Vicky. “How long were you here? Two hours, and we’ve already got two dead. She’s as bad as a visit from Kris Longknife. No offense meant,” the cop added.
“None taken,” Vicky said, not at all sure if she’d been praised or condemned.
What she needed to do was get out of here. Her knees were beginning to shake. If she didn’t get moving, she might even start to weep. That was not what Kris Longknife would do.
“Then, if you are finished with us, Captain Hoffman, we need to discuss the impact of this event on our future plans with the surviving officers of our escort.”
“Yes, Your Grace, you may go, and as soon as we have our pictures, I will release your admiral’s body.”
One of the Marines offered Vicky his helmet and his armored jacket. She declined, but did allow herself to be guided by the captain toward the stairs. Surrounded by guards with rifles pointed out at any threat, she descended to the pier.
A medical team was just beginning to remove the admiral’s body. Vicky quick-marched for the
Stalker
, crossed the quarterdeck as a civilian, and headed for the admiral’s cabin. There, Vicky collapsed on the settee before fixing Captain Hoffman with a stern look.
“How much do you know about the real intention of this trip?”
“What do you mean, real intentions?” was not what she wanted to hear.
CHAPTER12
V ICKY swung her legs around to rest them on the settee. Across the table from her, Captain Hoffman stood at something close to attention. Her team of Kit, Kat, and Mr. Smith arrayed themselves close, but not so close as to force themselves into Vicky and Captain Hoffman’s conversation.
“How much do you know about the various missions Admiral Gort was on?” Vicky asked again.
The chief of staff looked puzzled. “We were to show the flag and return any survivors from the Fleet of Discovery that we encountered to Greenfeld,” he said.
“And . . . ?” Vicky said and emphasized the question with a raised eyebrow.
“And . . . nothing?” the captain said, shaking his head in puzzlement.
“So you know nothing about the bribes the admiral took.”
The captain was shaking his head, now in
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