An obnoxious buzzer roared over the ruins complex. Lights hidden in the roof came up like three dozen small suns to dispel the artificial night. Smiling broadly, Quintus crossed back to Hanse and offered the Prince his hand.
"Excellent shooting, my Prince." Quintus squinted back along Hanse's line of fire toward the robotic rooftop sniper. "Two hundred meters if a centimeter."
Hanse shook Quintus's hand, then glanced back over his own shoulder. "Well, Quintus, your marksmanship puts mine to shame. A shot through a window at a hundred meters while on the run? Why didn't we ever train you as a MechWarrior? With skill like that, I could leave the Capellan March to you and never have to worry."
Quintus shook his head, though the smile generated by the Prince's praise remained. "I'm afraid that I've slowed down, though, Highness. In the old days, I'd have hit with all three shots."
Hanse laughed aloud. "But you did hit with all three, Quintus. Two hit the building and one hit the target."
The Minister joined in with Hanse's laughter. "I suppose we should head back to the control center and find out our scores."
Hanse glanced at his chronometer. "They only gave us twenty minutes on the course, so we must have scored well." He shook his head. "It would be terrible if you and I didn't qualify with small arms."
Quintus shrugged. "I'm not so worried about that, Highness." The Count jerked a thumb in the direction of the other small arms qualification maze. "I just hope your nephew Morgan and Ardan haven't beaten us out."
God! Not another six months of Ardan and Morgan making jokes."Amen to that, my friend." Hanse narrowed his light blue eyes. "Speaking of which, what news from Morgan's new companion?"
Quintus pulled the power pack from his pistol, then slid the gun into its shoulder holster. "Nothing suspicious to report. As you know, they've seen a lot of each other. Kym has visited Morgan unannounced a couple of times, and she almost always finds him reading and studying military history."
"Has she reported anything about his communications to and from his parents?" Does Michael enlist Morgan in his mad plans?
Quintus shook his head. "Nothing unusual. At one point, a courier brought a holodisk from Duke Michael to his son, and Morgan played it immediately even though Kym was present. She said she saw nothing unusual in the disked message or in Morgan's reaction to it."
Quintus smiled at the Prince. "At other times, Morgan has gotten disks and set them aside in favor of going out with Kym."
The hint of a grin began to play over the Prince's face. Perhaps we shall find that, indeed, Morgan Hasek-Davion has nothing to do with his father's plots. Very likely, he knows nothing about them. Unfortunately, the pressure will be on, and I have to know which way he will jump."Good, Quintus. I like hearing independent confirmation of my feelings about Morgan. I still want to continue surveillance, however."
The spymaster nodded. "I understand." Quintus fell silent for a moment, then glanced at the Prince. "I know you did not ask for my opinion, but I'm going to give it to you anyway."
When the Prince did not reply, Quintus took it as permission to continue.
"I hope you realize, Highness, that you've placed Morgan in a position of great responsibility. Other MechWarriors his age— including those who graduated with grades almost as high as his—are just reaching their Captaincies. They've only just been given companies to command, whereas Morgan is a Major in the Davion Heavy Guards, with a full battalion at his command. You'll not find many individuals in the AFFS able to shoulder all the work that requires."
The Prince frowned. "What are you telling me? Do you think Morgan is going to crack under the strain?"
Quintus smiled and shook his head, "No, my Prince, I do not. What I wish to tell you is that Morgan works hard to make himself worthy of the honors you have bestowed upon him."
Quintus stepped around a small pile of debris blocking a section of roadway. "Remember Kym's report that she often finds him studying military history. He's been gobbling up the texts we use at the War College, and he's managed to bootleg a copy of the battle analysis software they use for testing officers."
Hanse slowed his pace. "How has he done?" The Prince fixed Quintus with an appraising glance. "I assume your people have been able to evaluate his performance on those tests."
Quintus tried to look innocent. "We have managed to get a copy of his work, and we have even managed to get him an updated copy of the software—upgraded in light of the troop performances during Galahad '26 and '27."
Quintus drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "How has he done? I showed a copy of his test results to Field Marshal Yvonne Davion ..."
A wry smile tugged at the corners of Hanse's mouth. With Yvonne's track record for innovative tactics, she’d be just the one to evaluate Morgan's planning skills."What did she say, Quintus?"
"Knowing how much she hates the Hasek family, I didn't tell her whose tests they were. She looked the over and was visibly impressed. She especially praised the orders he wrote for his company and lance commanders. She found them clear, concise, and encouraging. She called them 'orders even an idiot could get right.' "
Hanse crossed his arms. "What did she say when you told her that it was Morgan Hasek-Davion who had created those plans and orders?"
Quintus chuckled. "She looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Of course, he did this well, Quintus. He's a Davion, isn't he?' "
"That's Yvonne." Hanse smiled. "Thank you, Quintus. I appreciate knowing her opinion." The Prince raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think of his abilities?"
Quintus sighed. "His scores beat those of any I've ever seen."
The Prince stopped. "Even those Dan turned out when he graduated from NAMA?"
Quintus nodded. "Dwarfed them. Give him a regiment, Highness, and there's not a unit in the Capellan Confederation that will stand up to him."
"Good." The Prince's face hardened. "What news of Duke Michael?"
Quintus grimaced as if he'd just swallowed a mouthful of sour chrestra."We've bugged the Liao ambassador's dog's collar, but the hound has not been present at any more of the meetings. I think the Maskirovka figured out the dog's problem during the meeting in October."
"That's not good, Quintus. We have to have definitive proof of Michael's complicity if we're going to bring him down." Hanse frowned angrily as they turned the corner, coming in sight of the scoring complex. If Michael's stupid enough to be working with Max Liao, he must have made a mistake somewhere. I know we can catch him in it, but will it be in time?"Anything new on Michael's supposed visit to Sian?"
As they cut through the burned-out ruins of a building, the Minister of Information, Intelligence, and Operations shook his head. "Nothing that we can act on, my Prince." Frustration knotted Quintus's brows. "Our agents in place say Michael was there, but using any of that information to accuse him publicly or privately would be death for those agents. We know he was there and is collaborating with the enemy, but we can't prove it well enough to bring him down."
Hanse nodded. "Are Liao troops still shifting around in accordance with the erroneous troop figures we're giving Duke Michael?"
Quintus nodded enthusiastically. "Like puppets on strings."
"Good. Perhaps Michael's treachery will pay for itself in this summer's Galahad exercises." The Prince opened the door to the lounge of the range scoring complex. He allowed Quintus to precede him through the door and immediately felt the room's chill through his sweat-soaked fatigues.