"Carolyn Heinrich, president of the People's Justice League," Stephen said. "Age 46, married to Thomas Heinrich, CEO of Heinrich Kelly Associates. That ring a bell?" "Heinrich and Kelly is the biggest private security business in the country," Alex replied. "Their country, that is." "They do almost entirely government work," Stephen continued. "Millions of dollars a month, most of it going into off-shore banks. Their confidence level in the regime is low, but they're sticking with the side they chose. "They have a few agents working behind the lines, we've caught some and left others in place to feed bad info back to the top. But mostly it's internal security. Anyhow, they're obviously in charge of the venue for next week's shindig." "And we've got them all made?" "Coming and going," Stephen replied. ~~~ * ~~~ The venue was a large auditorium on East Monroe, with around 4,000 seats in a semicircle. The stage was about sixty feet across, Alex knew, and from the footlights to the back curtain was about 30 feet. "Three entrances - right and left open onto the stage near the back, and one in the center behind the curtain." Riley James indicated them on the screen, using a laser pointer. "Now, we're going to get you guys backstage and isolated. That means access to the backstage area is sealed, and the two exits to the outside - and your getaway rides - are guarded by our agents. Two men on each door. "They believe the area is secure - and it is for our purposes - and there are no security personnel backstage. Except ours. "When Heinrich enters from stage left and walks to the podium, the MC will retire and take a seat with two or three - we're not sure - other flunkies behind the curtain. In this room here. The door will likely be closed, but check. If it is closed the occupants most likely won't come out when they hear shooting, just stay quiet and hope you don't notice them. Your target will be alone behind the podium. Any questions?" Alex looked at Oscar. "Looks good," said Oscar. "Time to position behind the target, two to three seconds, squeeze off four shots, ditch the cannons and exit. Looks good on paper, or the screen. How about the backup?" "They'll egress with you. Soon as they hear the shots they'll open the doors and you go out the way you came in. Threre'll be two cars for each team." "What are the chances of interference," asked Alex. "Once we're outside?" "Slim," Riley replied. "Paranoid as they are, and we've had - and will have - the place under surveillance 24/7. There's a cordon at the block level, so there won't be any random people wandering around in there. If anything goes wrong, you're more than capable of dealing with it, enough to get out. But there's a Tiger Wasp team in there, and they have exit points through the cordon." "Looks good," said Oscar. "Getting in seems to be the riskiest part." "It is, so once you ingress and start the numbers falling..." ~~~ * ~~~ Alex could see the door on the other side of the auditorium as he entered. The guards were there, and as he watched the door opened and Oscar entered. Good. Someone talking out there. Sounds like the intro. He gave a thumbs up to Oscar and approached the stage entrance. If that was the intro, the speaker would be coming back his way, or towards Oscar. Door on the right. That where they wait? He listened, turned up the amplification on his headset. "..please welcome, President of the Peoples' Justice League, Carolyn Heinrich." Applause. He stepped behind a screen, waited. He wondered if there was a room with a closed door on the other side of the stage. He pushed a C-Eye around the screen, oriented it to get the door in view in his goggles display. A youngish woman was approaching. She didn't look in his direction, not that she was likely to see the device in the shadows, and opened the door. Someone else in there. Probably another flunky, certainly not security. The door closed. OK, sync up with Oscar. He hoped the low power radio they were using wouldn't be picked up. He tapped the screen, swiped, tap, tap. They would make the hit at four minutes into the speech. Enough time to get the audience in that state, where nothing would get their attention short of a bomb going off. The countdown started, and he routed the screen to his goggles. "You have no problems killing a woman?" Stephen had asked. "Won't be the first, you know that." he had replied. "Same here," said Oscar. Stephen did know, there had been quite a few women mixing it up with them from the beginning. "An unarmed woman, from behind, no warning?" "Well, that DIA agent was from behind," Alex replied, "but I'd just seen her shoot one of my men, and she should have stopped when I told her." The DIA agent had been responsible for more than a few depredations, as Alex called them. People locked up in the gulags, and others dead. I was more than generous in calling. "This woman has been responsible for a lot of deaths," Oscar said. "Worse, she doesn't take the risks, just orders others to do it. No problems here." Two minutes. Alex broke the Liberator open and looked once more at the loads. Four 20-gauge shells, two loads of #1 and two of #2 buckshot. Most Liberators were chambered for 12-gauge, but this was close range and one shot of anything would probably suffice. It wasn't much different from its Vietnam-era namesake, and worked much the same way. It was double-action only, fired by squeezing the grip. Alex thought the original 16-gauge would have worked well, but 16-gauge ammunition wasn't used much. For people that couldn't easily handle the recoil the 20-gauge worked. One minute. Alex moved towards the opening in the curtain, giving the door of the room where the flunkies were a final glance. He moved the curtain enough to get a look. The curtain was in shadow, and the movement wouldn't alert anyone even if seen. He watched the seconds count down. Now! He stepped through the curtain and saw Oscar come through the other side. Perfect. Both men raised their weapons and put the laser spots on the back of the woman standing at the podium. A murmur rose from the audience. Some of them had seen the gunmen, the lasers slashing across the stage. Carolyn Heinrich hadn't, and wouldn't. Squeeze, reorient. Squeeze, put the the dot back on the target, still standing but... The target fell forward, slumping across the podium. Alex and Oscar fired the last rounds, tossed the Liberators on the floor and ran back behind the curtain. The whole thing had taken maybe six seconds The two men at Alex's door had it open and he plunged through, sprinting towards one of the cars. As he got in he saw Oscar getting into one of the others. The drivers accelerated smoothly away and into the street. See you tomorrow, Oscar. They would be taking different routes, and four cars would add to the confusion. The reaction to guns they'd discarded should be interesting. The Liberator had so far been used only a few times, and then mostly in situations where partisans had mixed it up with regime agents. They were cheap to produce and there were thousands of them out there, and tonight and in the days that followed they would get a lot of use. "We're clear," the agent in the front passenger seat said. "Nothing within a mile of us and we're moving away from the action. We'll be across the river before they can get any roadblocks up. Not that we don't have places to go to ground if we get trapped." "Thanks," Alex replied. "You guys do good work." "Pleasure working with you," the agent replied. Alex was fairly certain they knew him and Oscar by reputation. There were few in the Resistance who didn't. He leaned back and closed his eyes, relaxing his body but not his mind, alert for any sound or change in the motion of the vehicle that might signal danger. Need a smoke.