Veronica was still knee-deep into her investigation into Welt’s whereabouts when she received an urgent coded message from one of the people assigned to watch the border with Avatria. A group of eleven armed men, ostensively dressed as Avatrian soldiers, opened fire on a border post and killed three.

They were quickly pushed back by the local garrison, and six of the eleven culprits were killed in the ensuing shootout. The other five escaped and were being sought by the police and military in the area. Normally this would be outside of Veronica’s remit, but the fact that she was being asked to drop by was a clear signal that it wasn’t what it seemed on the surface.

What she found upon arriving at the field office was a concerned-looking Agent Adler, and a table covered with various pieces of evidence taken from the bodies of the ‘soldiers.’ They were travelling light for a group that had supposedly crossed the mountain range that separated the two countries in this area.

The majority of their carry-weight was taken by the rifles they brought and a few spare stripper clips. There was also a pair of military-issue Avatria coats. Veronica was very familiar with the look due to her prior work at the border, however brief it may have been.

“Thanks for dropping by on short notice. I know you’re very busy at the moment.”

“Adler. I take it that there’s a good reason for me to be here?”

“I gave you the short version in my message, but there’s more to say that I can’t risk sending. Two days ago, a group of eleven men attacked a border post. They were beaten back and fled - ditching their uniforms and weapons in the process. We’ve collected them here.”

“Were they Avatrian?”

“No. Our working theory is that they stole the uniforms. The ambassador to Avatria contacted the ministry and asked if they’d had any shipments go missing recently. Their ambassador replied and said that there was a report of one crate going missing during transit three weeks ago. He also condemned the attack, but that’s a given...”

“We can’t just go on his word – even if we’re willing to accept it. The brass won’t be happy.”

“There are plenty of reasons to dismiss the ‘Avatrian attack’ theory out of hand. A group of eleven is hardly the type of military deployment that we’d see from Avatria to attack a fortified position. The biggest giveaway is these rifles.”

Agent Adler was a gun nut. If there was ever an inquiry or question that involved firearms, military uniforms or technology designed to kill – he was the man to speak to. His office back at HQ was filled with multiple overstuffed bookshelves, a chaotic combination of officially published manuals and old design documents for everything from pistols to artillery guns.

“What’s wrong with the rifles?”

Adler took one of them from the table and held it up for her to see.

“These are civilian import patterns. Wagner-Aber is one of the few companies that export firearms across the border into Walser, but they also provide these FL-19 rifles to the military in Avatria. There are a lot of tell-tale differences between the two models.”

“Such as?”

Adler pointed them out with his finger, “The trigger guard and rear grip are more ergonomic. The rear sights are different. The safety switch is round instead of square. There’s also no mounting point for a bayonet, and nowhere to attach a frame if you want it. The wood the body is made from is also finished to a higher quality than what the poor fellows in the army get.”

The stamp on the metal part of the assembly was also a dead giveaway that these weren’t military guns. It wasn’t necessary to learn what the serial number meant when there were so many cosmetic differences that could be seen from a mile away.

“To put it bluntly, there’s no way that anyone standing in the Avatrian army would use these. They’re made in limited quantities and aren’t handed out by the army. They were purchased domestically and brought up here for the attack.”

He placed the rifle back down on the table. Amongst the recovered objects were flasks, binoculars, bandages and packs of playing cards.

“Did they have marching orders on them?”

“No. They were smart enough to keep any documentation off of their person.”

Veronica took a step back and considered the information that she was being given. This had Welt’s fingerprints all over it and that was why Adler had been asked to reach out to her. He was a hard-line nationalist. He wanted to put Avatria in its place in another big war because fighting Avatria was considered a core part of Walser’s identity.

Never mind the fact that there hadn’t been a full-scale conflict between them for fifty years, and Welt wasn’t old enough to have fought in the last one, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He was safe in the knowledge that only poor folk would be spilling blood on the battlefield to satisfy his cravings.

It was a potent political symbol. Stoking tensions and fearmongering about an incoming invasion were common fixtures in the monarchists’ political campaigns. They declared that the republican majority was moments away from opening the border and letting them spill through to conquer the productive, semi-industrialized areas along the mountain range.

Welt wanted a fight with Avatria - or at least the illusion of one - because it would inevitably cause fractures in parliament and instability among the general populace. It was setting the scene for his grand takeover. He could swoop in with his cadet Van Walser of choice, insert his new secret police into the military, and turn the tide when things were looking dire.

But the smartest part of the ploy was that it didn’t need to succeed in full. A lot of people wouldn’t read beyond the headline. They’d hear that a group of Avatrian soldiers attacked a Walserian border post and start clamouring for blood. They would wonder aloud why the government wasn’t launching an immediate invasion as revenge.

Once that initial story was out and circulating, they were less likely to listen to any corrections or clarifications. From their perspective, the government would just be covering its own arse and trying to wriggle out of doing something about it.

“We’ve kept the vultures away for the time being, but this place leaks like a broken faucet. Someone is going to get handed a wad of bills and spill it to the papers. The government’s already running crisis management talks to try and cut them off at the head.”

Veronica's brow creased into a deep frown, “Welt’s connections in the press will publish it no matter what the truth is. I doubt it’ll even matter if we keep them away from the scene. Welt will have tipped them off and pushed a certain narrative to them for print.”

Adler nodded; “It’s a win-win for him. Even if the story doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, or a war with our neighbours doesn’t happen, he only needs that moment of instability and anger from the public to strike.”

Veronica’s assessment was that the government would resist any attempt to inflame a war between Walser and Avatria. It would be long, costly, and potentially harm them in the polls if their ‘victory’ was not swift and consequence-free. There was no easy way out if they committed.

That would avoid a scenario wherein Welt’s demon-enhanced soldiers were integrated into the military. He would instead have to focus on an intensive media campaign to stoke anger about the border attack. The pressure would have to come entirely from the citizenry instead.

Some agitation here, a few nobles on his side in parliament there, and a Van Walser who was willing to seize power by stepping over the King. Those were the ingredients for a complete takeover.

“We’re two steps behind. I think we’re out of time too. Welt is going to take the next step soon, perhaps when the news breaks and it’s on the front page of every paper in the country.”

Adler clicked his tongue, “He’s going to have a hard time of it. Haven’t they gotten parliament and the palace locked down tight?”

“They do now, but protecting the King and a few politicians isn’t going to help if Welt takes control of the levers of power in Walser. That authority can dry up very quickly if he plays his cards right.”

“You’d better go and do something about it then. I’m going to be stuck here pushing the head office’s line to the local police for the next week.”

Veronica did not like running from coast to coast chasing leads, but she preferred that to being put on public relations duty. Most of the local law enforcement she worked with were cooperative – but some people were so blinded by the opportunity to use their authority that they jumped the gun and made WISA’s life hell.

She could only cross her fingers and hope that there wouldn’t be a strong public reaction to the news. The police and government would have to get on top of the story with a controlled release and quickly assure the locals that this was not a real attack launched by their neighbouring country.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Veronica pined for the days when the newspaper industry was less of an ever-present threat to her line of work. She accepted a folder from Adler and tucked it away with the dossier of information she received from her contact for later.

“Before I go, did anyone report seeing individuals with deathly pale skin?”

“No. None of them stood out to the eyewitnesses. They were all men between twenty and fifty, athletic builds and healthy complexions.”

“Welt must be holding onto them for a more important job.”

Veronica completed her end of the bargain by handing over a code-sheet that Adler could use with the telegram line, instead of relaying a message in person or via letter. Urgency was the word of the day. It contained a series of phrases that would immediately communicate the status of Welt’s plan to the operator listening on the other end, without giving away any details.

All of the obvious contingencies were near the top. Attacks on local government buildings, the theatre, the kidnapping of particular nobles and ministers, and any attempts to intrude on the royal family. Some less likely schemes ran a wide gamut from the mundane to the absurd.

Veronica was willing to believe a lot. She’d seen the illogical many times over during her work defending the nation – but she still couldn’t reckon with the pet theory of one handler who seemed to earnestly accept as true that Welt would soon attempt to control the nation’s supply of tea. There were easier ways of torturing the upper-middle classes than that.

Regardless, alert pattern three-hundred-fifty-two was intended for that eventuality! WISA would allocate its resources to protecting ports and other areas of transfer to bravely ensure that the import of tea and other luxuries could continue.

What a joke.

Veronica stepped out of the building near the border post in question and surveyed the damage for a second time. This lightly fortified location was intended to check the documentation and cargo of people moving between Avatria and Walser. It was constructed from brick and timber – which had been torn to shreds by the onslaught of gunfire. There wasn’t a single window left intact.

Near to the post was one of the many military bases that lined the mountain range. There was less emphasis placed on them in recent years as relations thawed, but it was still the most heavily defended area of the country. Avatria was one of the few nations economically robust and technologically advanced enough to put up a fight.

If Welt was all about restoring the honour of Walser – it was not an ideal based on any objective criteria. He was an unvarnished ideologue. The old days were better and no amount of contrary evidence could convince him otherwise. Walser had never been stronger. It boasted the biggest, most disciplined and well-equipped military on the continent.

On the civilian front, there was a gulf in industrialisation and quality of life. Walser was the object of envy for dozens of nations around the world. The race to connect every city with rail lines was a measuring tool for its progress. Soon it would take only a few hours to travel from villages to towns, to cities. Those old, scarred landscapes would become a distant memory too.

Welt threatened all of that, and she wasn’t going to stand for it. Every moment she breathed, every drop of blood spilt, it was all in the pursuit of something greater than what she felt when she was inducted into the Royal Order. Back then she had nothing to fight for but the egos of craven men.

Now she was doing it for her daughter. If there was ever any peace to be found within Veronica for what she was and what she’d done – it would be through that lens. She understood now why some fought so tirelessly to create a safe environment for their family. Those fleeting moments she spent with her were enough to fill her with that purpose.

Sometimes she allowed herself to believe that there would come a time when they could be a real family. Frankfort insisted that the times were changing, but the Royal Order and WISA only had one retirement plan on offer.

You were turning in your badge on the day of your funeral – or not at all.

----------------------------------------

With my warning delivered and Darin put on notice, I now had to contemplate what exactly those consequences would be. My assessment was that he was more likely to leave the students alone than not. Welt must have persuaded him to take part in the plot by telling him that he wouldn’t have to physically harm anyone.

That was his mistake. Welt was the sort of person who would try to take a mile when you gave them an inch. Hearing a rosy proposal about the job and being here in the mix were two very different situations. What would he do if things went south?

I returned to my room and found Samantha waiting for me at the door. I stepped inside and she wordlessly followed me inside without asking for an invitation. I ignored her ‘bad manners’ and moved to the far side of the room next to the closest. This wasn’t the best time to talk with me. I was still riding the high of confronting Darin, in business mode, so to speak.

I’d be techy and irritable and have little patience for vague, open-ended questions.

“What are you planning on doing here exactly?”

I unbuttoned my blazer and placed my pistol on the desk.

“You sound very accusatory, Samantha.”

Her lips thinned out to a narrow line; “It’s not me. It’s Claude and Adrian. I’ve long since accepted that you do what you please without caring much for other people’s opinions.”

“It is not that I don’t find value in other perspectives – but they often arise during times of urgency. If I held back and listened to what they had to say, there would be a strong chance that we wouldn’t be here speaking right now.”

“You mentioned violent people not being reasonable before.”

“That’s correct. If they have already drawn their weapons and started terrorizing and murdering us, then what is there left to speak of? At that moment you have to take action even if you feel it is unsavoury or immoral.”

“Like I said, it’s not me. Claude says he heard rumours about one of the hostage-takers being dragged into the old schoolhouse by his arms and legs like a sack of old potatoes. He thinks you did it.”

I held my hands up, “I work quickly, but not that quickly. To attack one of them now would be an act of utmost recklessness.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. You may disagree, but I’m trying to keep you informed as to what I’m doing. Welt has caught me on the back foot in this case. I hoped to have wrapped this problem up before the term started, and I did not anticipate that the academy would become a target too.”

“When is this place not a target?” Samantha said wryly.

“Yes. I was being too optimistic.”

Samantha stood there and watched while I discarded my outer layers and sat down on the edge of my bed. Her slackened fingers slowly tensed up, balling into a pair of fists that spoke to the odd emotion swelling up inside of her chest. She wanted to say something and it couldn’t have been an easy proposal to make.

Samantha was a girl who consisted of nothing but virtues. She was painfully honest, always reacted to hardship with a bright smile on her face, and never spoke an ill word of anyone unless it was justified by their bad behaviour.

“Do you have something to say?” I asked, breaking the impasse and spurring her on.

“It’s... it’s not fair. Who says that you have to be the one saving the day time and time again? Don’t you ever get tired of it?” Samantha pleaded, “I’m sure that whatever Welt has planned is already known by everyone in the government. They’ll take care of it!”

“You don’t understand. The Goddess put us here in this place for a reason! We’re going to dive headlong into disaster if we sit back and let him do as he pleases. It’ll be the Scuncath all over again.”

“The Goddess doesn’t see you as a... tool!” Samantha shouted.

I shook my head, stood up, and pushed back against her broad shoulders. The silence that followed made it clear that I held the opposite opinion. Her face progressed through several different emotions before settling on worry.

“You don’t mean that. Please tell me you don’t feel that way.”

She stepped out of my reach and looked to the floor.

“You are no tool, Samantha. It is a very different story when it comes to my part in this. Durandia wants me to be her expression of violence against those who would doom the world through their mad ambition.”

Samantha shook her head violently, “That can’t be right! The Goddess would never do that to an innocent person! What did you do to deserve this?”

I nodded my head in the direction of my discarded gun on the desk. I had no shortage of sins to be punished for – even after I had been reincarnated into this empty shell and tasked with saving the world. There was no clean break. I was thrown headfirst into a desperate situation that demanded my compliance.

Samantha looked at the gun, and then back to me.

“I’m not innocent. I’m not seeking redemption, nor do I expect to receive it. I made a resolution to myself not to back down and go out without a fight.”

The wall was lowered for a moment. Samantha could tell that this was a truth spoken from the heart – free from the pretences or the verbose words that defined my everyday speech. A small portion of my real accent bled through towards the end as well.

“That may be true, but you have us.”

I smiled, “I believe that you will be key to solving this crisis – but the others remain an unknown element.”

“That’s a polite way of calling ‘em useless.”

“Would you trust Claude to navigate his way out of this?”

She frowned, “He can get pretty lucky, ignoring that time he got shot at the theatre...”

Luck wasn’t going to get us off of the campus and on Welt’s tail though.

“I warned their leader that there would be consequences if they didn’t let us go – although even I’m not sure what those consequences are going to be. Picking them off one by one isn’t going to work. We may need to think bigger than that.”

It would take too long to clean them up properly without being seen. Not to mention an unspoken desire to avoid killing a lot of people on campus after the previous incident with Prier. It felt like a bad omen to start that kind of fight in a place primarily used by children.

Samantha was evidently not done addressing her confusion about my relationship with Durandia, but I was moving on to the next subject and ignoring her for the time being. Having a crisis of faith would get in the way.

“How do you scare away an entire group of adult men with guns?” Samantha said.

“That is a difficult question to answer. They aren’t a pack of skittish birds doddering around in the gardens. It’ll have to be a powerful reason for them to evacuate the premises post-haste. Perhaps the potential arrival of the police would spur them to leave before they face any consequences for doing this.”

“And how do we alert the police to what’s going on? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

If only I’d stolen some explosives from Veronica during the cult saga. That would have caught their attention. It was then that a bright idea occurred to me. The police didn’t have to know what was going on at all. Welt’s hit squad merely had to believe that they were on their way to the campus.

They had scouted the entire place from front to back and there were no telegram lines leading out of the premises. Therefore, the only way to make them fear for their safety would be to imply that one of the teachers or students was making a break for it.

“Perhaps it’s time to exchange my reputation for assistance from the other students,” I pondered, “After all – they’re very good at spreading rumours. For example, say that a small group of teachers are planning on escaping through a previously unknown exit...”

Samantha’s mood finally turned; “...They’d start to panic. They wouldn’t want them to run to the police and get this place surrounded.”

Combine that with some other efforts to unsettle their cohort and spread division and it was a recipe for a finely tuned plan to go completely awry. Claude and Adrian would actually get to help me out without having to learn how to shoot too.

Darin felt that our discussion was nothing more than the whimsical threats of a sheltered girl less than half his age. In truth, he had exposed how committed he was to this plan. That crack in the line was open for me to exploit, and I need only drive a wedge through it and apply the appropriate level of force.