Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(24)
“Well, I’m mad too, by anybody’s lights,” Silva assured Gravois, his one eye slightly reddened by the rubbing, but even hotter and deadlier for it. “An’ I blame you personally for Kurokawa havin’ ’em in the first place. So, if anything happens to any of our people you left with that crazy bastard, I’ll hunt you down wherever you go, no matter how long it takes, an’ take it outa your ass.” He brightened. “Hey! That’s an idea! I’ll pull your wormy spine right outa your ass, an’ beat you to death with it.”
“Indeed,” Courtney said, a serious, contemplative expression narrowing his bushy brows. “You know, Monsieur Gravois, despite the apparent physiological impossibility of Mr. Silva’s promise—and I would consider it a promise, if I were you—I suspect he’d somehow accomplish it. He’s actually quite imaginative about things like that, and I’ve seen him do a great many unlikelier things.”
Gravois went pale. “Where is Fiedler?” he challenged Matt once more, though somewhat weaker than before, his eyes flitting at the big chief gunner’s mate.
“Here he comes now, actually,” Major Jindal said cheerfully, nodding at a guard detail escorting a sullen-looking man in rumpled, blood-spattered khakis. He looked like he’d been beaten half to death. His lip was broken in several places and one of his eyes was swollen shut. “I’ll be honest,” Jindal said, as the guards shoved Fiedler at the League officers. The German stumbled but kept his feet. “I offered Oberleuitnant Fiedler asylum in the Empire of the New Britain Isles, in exchange for information.” Jindal shrugged. “He refused.”
Gravois’s eyes bulged. “He has been tortured!”
“He tripped,” Jindal countered. “And we may have asked him a question or two after we picked him up and dusted him off. But if I were you, I’d worry less about what we might’ve learned from him and more about whether you’ve told us everything you can regarding aid you’ve given Kurokawa—or any other way you’ve hurt our cause—because we’ll find out for ourselves.”
“I told those bastards nothing,” Fiedler snapped and spat blood at the guards. Gravois glared at Jindal, then turned back to Matt. “I demand you arrest this man at once and punish him severely!”
Matt held his hands out helplessly. “Can’t.”
“But you are supreme commander of all Allied Forces!” Gravois protested sarcastically.
“Yeah, and Major Jindal’s under my military command. But he’s the senior representative of the Empire in the west, and even if it’s part of the Alliance, it’s still a sovereign nation. Jindal offered asylum; I didn’t. I wouldn’t want Fiedler as a gift; he’s a Leaguer, like you. A Kraut. And if I ever took my eyes off him, he’d probably throw another wrench in the works. But I can’t fool with any state decisions Jindal makes, or any . . . associated activities. You’ll just have to take that up with Her Imperial Majesty, Governor-Empress Rebecca Anne McDonald.” Matt appeared to consider that. “Which might be hard, considering all Allied military forces are under my command, and they’re under standing orders to sink anything flying your stupid flag in the Pacific too.” He shook his head and held his hand over his heart in mock solemnity. “I’ll mention his behavior to the Governor-Empress in my next dispatch, though.” The incongruous grin that appeared on Matt’s face looked more like a snarl without the sound that came with one. “Trust me.”
“Trust me! Goddamn!” Petey hissed at Gravois.
? ? ?
“Good riddance!” Courtney practically stomped as Leopardo’s barge carried the Italian officers and Gravois out to the crowded ship. “I’ve always liked the French, y’know—oddly enough—but that twisted bugger proves a sharp exception!”
“What did haappen to Fiedler?” Chack asked, grimly blinking at the departing boat as well, while trying to untangle Petey from the long, brindled fur on the back of his neck.
“Yeah,” Silva chimed in. “Last I saw, he was at the airfield, workin’ on that junk heap they flew in on. Seemed like a right enough guy—for a Kraut. ’Specially since the plane ain’t as bad off as he made out to Gravois. Fiedler wanted to come here, an’ knew the frog’d never risk his sorry ass all the way back to Egypt if the plane sounded like it was gaspin’ its last.” He chuckled. “Buggered it up just enough, well enough, over long enough, he even fooled his Spanish copilot into thinkin’ it was crappin’ out for real. Him an’ the rest o’ Gravois’s toadies’re either on that ship”—he motioned at Leopardo—“or still at Zanzibar. Hey, maybe they’re who Gravois meant by his embassy?”
“Possibly,” Safir agreed, blinking her silver eyes. “But I think Graa-vois came here specifically to secure Leo-paardo’s escape past our forces, and personally take our measure. Fiedler only ensured he would not desire to continue on in a faltering aircraft.”
“He came to spy,” Jindal spat.
“You get that outa Fiedler?” Silva asked.
“It was obvious,” Matt agreed, sidestepping Silva’s question and looking at Safir. “He came for all those reasons, but spying is the main reason we let him go.” They all looked at him in surprise. “Sure,” he said. “We know he’ll blab. Definitely to his League, and probably to Kurokawa. And if Kurokawa gets it, General Esshk might as well. But what did he see?”