Fourth Vector Ch. 17

For far too long, those redheaded idiots had played too nicely with the Galicians, content to oppose any position that Swabia was willing to take. However, in the last few years, an opportunity had arisen that Avila spotted from far away—a chance to get even.

It certainly helped that there was a nontraditional and inexperienced king on the throne of the country. In fact, it was the only way a scheme like this could possibly work. Only someone willing to overlook rivalries of the past would afford them the trust needed for this plan to succeed. Adalbert grinned at the stupidity of the king. He would almost make this too easy.

He just wished he'd been here to see it begin, not to arrive when it was already in full effect. Instead, he had to deal with the Andalucian catastrophe while the Swabian team here took all the glory.

No longer.

He would prove to his cousin that he was worthy of more independent and lucrative operations. He didn't just want to be known his Avila's little cousin for the rest of his life. He wanted a name for himself as well.

He wanted the name to be as reviled and feared as his bloodline's.

Shaking away the brief images of grandeur, Adalbert focused in on the harbor. Of course, the main docks were now closed, and he watched as the ship slid past them, focusing instead on another set of commercial docks not far away in a suburb of the city. As the ship steered into a spot on one of the long wharves, Adalbert's eyes narrowed at another ship a few docks away.

"What kind of ship is that?" he pointed to his servant, the same man who'd been guarding his door. "That looks like the type of warship that belongs to the emperor. Who else has such advanced weaponry?"

The guard looked hard at the ship before shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not sure, sir. The flag is unknown to me. However, she looks powerful. Surely it couldn't be a Galician design?"

Adalbert kept watching it for a few more minutes until his own ship berthed. It was no Galician design that he was familiar with. Besides, those bastards never went far outside their own islands anymore. If it wasn't Galician or Swabian, he would have a hard time believing it belonged to any other country in the west, as nobody else had designs that were more advanced.

That is, until a newcomer arrived on the scene not long ago.

"I wonder," thought Adalbert as he appraised the ship once more.Perhaps Jack Easterbrook is here?

Adalbert didn't have much longer to think about it. As soon as the ship was docked against the wharf, he slipped off the ship quickly in order to meet his new contacts. In his breast pocket, he had a list of names to make contact with, however they belonged to people he'd never met before. The first task would be to find them wherever they were headquartered.

"Sir, do you want me to come with you?" asked his servant, still halfway on the gangplank and looking uncertain.

"Stay with the ship," yelled Adalbert as he walked down the dock. The last thing he needed was any Picard officials snooping around the contents before they were ready for delivery. He intended to be much more cautious with his second chance.

Adalbert walked into the small customs office at the end of the dock. He carried two things in his hand—his trading permit and a letter from his cousin. The permit was still warm from the press, only arriving in his hands when the ship picked him up off the coast of Andalucia. The letter was given at the same time, a common type that gave authority to the holder to act in his lord's name.

The customs official barely batted an eyelash and let him through, much to the disgust of others waiting in the office. Adalbert couldn't help but sneer at the small uproar it caused, as many of them wondered just how he'd been able to gain entry past the port. Even as a Swabian, it was sure to add insult to injury.

Once past the office, Adalbert followed a small road that led to several warehouses huddled near the coast. He imagined that at one time, they were teeming with activity, as dockhands and workers unloaded and stored all kinds of goods behind their heavy doors. However, now they were eerily silent, a reminder of the type of lockdown Picardy was under. Only one warehouse was bound to be active, and it was exactly where it was supposed to be from his instructions. Adalbert put on a satisfied smile once he stepped in through the heavy dock doors and took a look around.

It was a large warehouse but it was quite unlike any that Adalbert had seen. Usually, he'd seen them laid out in such a fashion that you could usually walk right in from the street and be immediately in front of the goods, an easy way to offload and then load up that minimized the time needed to sort new product.

However, this warehouse had a huge partition that blocked off the main entrance from the rest of the containers. They were the same type of containers that were on his own ship, the originals that had been brought in when this deal was struck. Adalbert peaked through the partition, noting that the containers were locked up and under guard by several Swabian soldiers.

"Who the hell are you?" asked a woman not far from the door. She was an attractive sort of woman in a garish type of way. She had greasy dark hair and skin that had seen far too much time in the sun. Yet, her body was pleasing to his eyes, and her lips were plump and full. For the briefest of moments, he wondered what those lips would feel like wrapped around his member, but then he realized he hadn't yet responded.

"Adalbert," he replied with an amused smile to the woman. "Cousin of Lord Avila."

The woman gave him an irritated look. "Well, Adalbert, nice of you to show up. Your ship's late."

"They had to stop to pick me up," he said. "It put them a day behind."

She looked him up and down. "Somehow, I doubt it was worth it."

Adalbert raised an eyebrow. He wasn't used to women with such mouths on them, but then again, he should have figured with one look at her crass appearance. Even though she was attractive, he could tell right away that she'd be an interesting sort to work with.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?" she asked after another minute. "Or are you going to get your ship offloaded?"

"I figured I'd check in with the leader here," he said with a slight cough. "See what they wanted me to do?"

"You found her," she grunted. "Name's Magda. You work for me now. And I want you to unload your ship. This warehouse is more than half empty, and if this operation is to continue, I need more containers."

He walked forward, offering his hand. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Let's start over. I'm Adalbert."

Magda sighed and set a clipboard into his hands. "Let's not. I want you to start unloading and make note of how many containers you bring in. Once that's done, you can come find me in my office."

Magda walked away without another word. Out of habit, he couldn't help but check out her backside as she walked back to her office. It swayed with just enough jiggle to get his attention, even under her loose clothing.

This is certainly going to be interesting.

Adalbert looked over the clipboard and realized it was mostly blank. Tapping it against his free hand, he went back out to the street and headed toward the ship. He found his servant still in the same position near the gangplank, and the man quickly sprung to attention once he saw his master. "Get the ship unloaded. The warehouse isn't far away."

It took about five hours to unload all sixty containers from the trading ship, which wasn't too bad for how big they were. Of course, the ship was able to offload the containers with a dock crane, and Adalbert was able to borrow a few trucks from the warehouse to get the heavy containers back to the warehouse. It was a tiring affair to do all sixty, and it was only a very tired man that made it back to the warehouse after they were done, giving an exhausted knock on Magda's door.

"Come in," said the curt female voice.

Adalbert entered only to find Magda sitting behind her desk with a cup of tea. She was stirring it aggressively as if she meant to punish it for not tasting as great as she'd expected.

"We're all done. Sixty containers now in the warehouse."

"What took you so long? I have workers here who could've done that in half the time you did with much less racket," said Magda.

"Sorry, not a dockhand," said Adalbert with pursed lips.

Magda sighed and went back to stirring her tea. "I'm well-aware of that now."

"Are you going to be like this the entire time I'm here?" he asked finally, his anger rising. "We're supposed to be working together, and so far, you've been nothing but a cunt."

To his surprise, Magda smiled. "Already resorting to name-calling after one day? You must really be a smart one."

"Just one that's tired of the salty reception he's received."

"Well, let me be clear then, Adalbert," said Magda, standing up from her desk and stepping closer to him. She pointed her finger at his chest. "I've been organizing this operation since it was first conceived, and I've overseen it since the first ship landed in Picardy. And you want to know something I don't appreciate? Some familial appendage of Lord Avila landing here and trying to tell me how to do my job."

"That's not what I'm here for—"

Magda waved her hand, silencing him instantly. "Sure you're not. Just needed a place to go, huh? Totally a coincidence that you're here once the plan starts to bear fruit? I will not have this operation taken over just for some lackey to take all the credit. You may have been ordered here and sure you're the lord's cousin, but this is still my gig, understand?"

This one had fight in her, and even though he didn't mean to, Adalbert found himself nodding.

"Good," she hissed. "As long as we're clear." She returned to her seat and her tea, watching him with appraising eyes as he struggled to think of something else to say.

"You're wrong about me, you know," he said finally, taking the empty chair in front of her. "I'm not here to steal your glory."

"Humor me then. Why exactly are you here? You enjoy the weather?" she asked sourly.

"More like this is my second chance," he said quietly. "I was in-charge of the Andalucian operation until it went bad. I'm only here to try to salvage my reputation and keep my head."

Magda's eyes narrowed. "You're serious? Andalucia was a fuck-up of momentous proportions. Word even reached us here."

Adalbert felt embarrassed. "What can I say? Events spiraled out of our control rather quickly. My colleague lost his head over it."

"And you kept yours because of your blood?"

Adalbert swallowed heavily. "Perhaps. Blood does run deep, not that I think it would help me if something happened here."

"Nothing will happen here," she interrupted.

"I'm just speaking out loud," he added. "But that's my situation. Don't worry, this operation is still yours. I'm not a spy sent to monitor your progress or a thief meant to steal your glory."

Magda watched him for a few more moments before nodding. "We'll see. It's a convincing story, but I'll wait to verify it on my own. You can never be too careful in this business."

Adalbert nodded. "As I would expect."

Magda flipped a strand of hair behind her shoulder. "So, you're on your second chance. And you get sent here of all places to an already existing operation. That must make you nervous?"

"If we're being truthful, yes."

"Good. I want you nervous. I want you to expect that something could go wrong at any moment. I want you paranoid, not sleeping at night. I want all of your mental and physical capacity dedicated to ensuring the survival of this scheme, no matter the costs."

"My life depends on it," he said softly. "How could I not?"

"We understand each other then," she said finally. "Good."

"You know, I know about the operation in very basic terms. Even though I unloaded the containers, I haven't seen the merchandise. Or heard about distribution or anything further than that."

"In due time," answered Magda. "Once I know I can trust you, you'll hear more. In the meantime, you'll do what you're told. You'll find that I can be an easy person to work for, as long as you're not a total incompetent fuck-up."

Adalbert managed a genuine smile. "I'm afraid my previous record won't inspire a lot of confidence for you."

Surprisingly, Magda laughed. "Then you'll just have to do better here."

"Got it," he replied with an eager nod.

Magda got out of her chair, and quickly approached the door. She opened it and looked back at him. "Well? Are you coming?"

Adalbert sprung out of his chair and followed her out of the door. Her office was situated near the main door to the street, located not far from the partition that blocked off the rest of the warehouse. It was still open from when he brought in his own load, and they stepped through easily. Magda then shut it behind them.

"Just out of precaution," she warned, locking the partition and then continuing the trip further into the warehouse. Even taking out the sixty containers they'd just brought in, there was still a surprising amount of them remaining within the warehouse.

"I'm amazed that there's so many of them here still. Considering your success, I thought you'd be just about out," said Adalbert as they strolled along one of the rows.

Magda laughed. "That might have been slightly more successful but ultimately a foolish plan. If I unleashed all the containers on every marketplace in Daban, they would've traced them back to us in a heartbeat. I had to be more strategic with my plan, picking marketplaces far away from the warehouse, and disseminating the goods for maximum effect with minimum repercussions. I had to be choosy with how I did this."

"That makes sense," he said, as he lightly touched one of the containers.

"Don't do that," Magda snapped. "Are you mad? Do you wish to die?"

"I didn't think it was of any threat," he said quickly. "It's still sealed."

"It's people who don't think who end up dead," she added with a stern look. "I would think you of all people would've internalized that lesson already."

He nodded. "My apologies—"

She didn't wait for him to finish speaking, instead, quickly walking a short distance away to another guarded room where she returned with an armful of clothing. Adalbert could quickly see that she brought back full body suits, masks, eyewear protection, as well as gloves.

"Put these on," she instructed, casually putting her own protection on after she handed over his. "You can never be too careful. So far, we've prevented many casualties on our side, simply by taking the necessary precautions. Usually it's not until the goods are unveiled at the market that the pathogens are finally unleashed on the population."

Once they were both protected, Magda cracked open a container with a crowbar and removed the heavy wooden lid. The both of them stepped back as soon as the lid was partially cracked, and Adalbert couldn't help but give a curious glance inside.

From what he could see, it was nothing more than ordinary clothing inside. Swabian clothing was never flashy or anything but functional, so there wasn't much to see in the container beyond the few drab colors of Swabian robes. Adalbert took a step closer.

"Don't get too close," warned Magda. "You don't want it on your body."

"How could something so deadly be on something as unsuspecting as clothing?" he wondered.

"That's the very genius of the entire plan," said Magda with an evil laugh. "They'll never suspect it. It will start to attack their bodies the second they're exposed to it, and they'll never know the reason why or the true source. The entire city has already been closed due to the plague. It's only a matter of time until the goods get disseminated into the rest of the Picard population. Soon enough, the entire country will be far too weak to offer any resistance, making the Picards easy pickings for our armies. The best part about it is the very pathogens that are being used against them came from their former allies—the Nax."

"I've heard about that. There's been a few plague outbreaks amongst the Nax slaves that were brought back to Swabia, mostly due to their living conditions."

Magda nodded. "Lord Avila found a way to weaponize it. He had all these goods worn, coughed on, or spit on by those slaves before they were packed away in the containers. It's a new weapon that's never been tried before, but I think it might end up being the most effective."

"And then once the Picards are down? Then what?"

Magda fixed her gaze on him. "Then the last remaining strong country in the west will be unable to offer any resistance. Then, we'll have complete control. Andalucia was nothing, Adalbert. This war will be won or lost in Picardy."

*****

Jack sat in his quarters on theDestiny tapping his fingers against his desk. It had now been three days since they'd arrived in Daban, and he was no closer to getting off his ship and into the city. He was starting to get highly annoyed with the entire situation, knowing that if he could just get in front of the king, this misunderstanding could go away.

It didn't help anything that he was just about out of options. He couldn't secure a permit, because he needed to go into the city to get one. He couldn't send a messenger beyond the port area since it was blocked off to all but the Swabians. For a moment, Jack contemplated trying to sneak inside wearing a Swabian-style robe, but he worried about the implications of getting caught and what it might mean for relations with the Picards.

It was the same worry that stopped him from doing any more theatrical displays to get inside the city. He had flares on the ship, useful in case he needed aid from other vessel. Jack thought about sending one of the flares up, even if just to get the attention of the city or perhaps Aedan, however there was no guarantee that anyone from the palace might see it or care what it was about.

For that reason, Jack still kept up the more legal methods of trying to gain entry. With an outbreak like the plague, he realized the situation on the ground might change daily, and any restrictions could very well be up for modification from one day to the next. It was why he still kept trying to gain entry from the port office every morning, hoping something may have changed since the last time he tried.

It wasn't much to go on, but it was all he had.

"Sorry, sir, we're still not allowing any entry into the city," said the official, already shaking his head behind his narrow spectacles. "It's still too dangerous."

"I don't care for my own safety as long as I can get to the palace," argued Jack. "I'll even put on one of those masks that I see everyone wearing now. I just have to get in."

The official looked annoyed. "I'm sorry, sir, but the answer doesn't change."

It never changed. It was always the same answer, relegating him to frustration and even anger as more days passed. He couldn't help but be further annoyed.

"Tell me, if I put on a Swabian robe, can I gain entry into your city?" he asked sarcastically, pointing to the few Swabians that could be seen out on the docks. They'd entered past the port to the warehouse sector with no problem, and Jack had to wonder how they were able to, especially when the Picards and the Swabians were supposed to be just as much of enemies as it were with the Galicians.

The official sighed. "As I've stated before, they have the proper permits, sir."

"I find that very curious that they were able to get into the city to get those permits and I'm not," he argued. "One could almost say it's suspicious."

Before the clerk could give yet another rehearsed line, a door just behind the counter opened suddenly, and a hostile-looking man stepped out. Jack could tell he was most likely Picard navy by the style of his uniform, and it was a very thin spattering of red hair that covered the portions of his scalp not covered by his cap.