On Guard For Thee. Murray Snow

formed a protective diamond around them.

      Hanson knelt between the two men. “Are you hurt?” he asked paternally. James and Brian both shook their heads, wincing as they did. “Then what the hell do you think you were trying to do? You two idiots may hold the Victoria Cross, but that doesn’t make you invincible!”

      James looked up. “It’s Brian’s fault. He touched it last.”

      “It was a professional job, sir,” Brian said. “A five-second delay if the wires were cut.”

      “Can you walk?” Bennett asked. Both men nodded. “You,” he snapped at a corporal standing five feet away. “Escort these officers to the hospital. When the doctors are finished, bring them directly to my office.” The young man nodded and handed his weapon to another in his section. “Keep that with you! If they try anything, you have my permission to shoot them.”

      James and Brian moved slowly to the waiting ambulance. As they sat down on the hard benches and the back doors closed, Brian looked at the young man. “Corporal Webster,” he said casually, “you wouldn’t really shoot us would you?”

      Webster smiled. “Well now, sir. You heard the brigadier,” he said lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it painless.”

      “Who’d want to blow up the Camden Arms?” James asked as he rubbed his head.

      “Seeing as you two were there, it could have been anyone who fancied rugby.”

      1845 Hours

      James and Brian came to attention, both groaning as they straightened their arms to their sides. Bennett looked up from the report on his desk and handed it to General Hanson. “At ease. Sit down and try to explain what the hell happened back there.”

      The full story took five minutes and mirrored the statement Brain gave to the police at the hospital. “There was no way to see the trip wire, sir. Not with the mercury switch the way it was.”

      “Why didn’t you try to lessen the blast?”

      “As I said, sir, the mercury switch rested on a rather unstable surface. You saw the result of that blast. Nothing would have helped.”

      Bennett looked at the two and nodded. “Any thoughts as to who was responsible?” Both shook their heads. “Well,” he said, “it’s not related, but we just received word that a gentleman named Andrew Fielding was found dead earlier this morning in Montreal.”

      James glanced over to his father-in-law. “He was the CEO of Weacorp.” James’s eyes narrowed as he took in this new information.

      “Any connection to the faulty weapons we’ve been getting lately?”

      “Hit-and-run as he crossed the street. His wife said he was going for a snack.”

      “Tough luck.”

      Bennett looked coldly at him. “That’s rather harsh on your part, Captain.”

      James shrugged. “I’m sorry the gentleman is dead, sir, but I doubt it’s going to affect me too …” He trailed off and he was silent for several seconds.

      “What is it?” Hanson asked.

      James was about to speak, but stopped and shook his head instead. “Forget it.” Bennett made a “come on” gesture. “Well, what if there is a connection? Just for grins…look at it this way. What if the faulty weapons, Emerson, this Fielding guy, and the explosion are related?”

      Bennett leaned back. “Assuming the first three are related, how do you explain the explosion?”

      “Well, sir,” James said, “I was talking to a few people last night about the problems we’ve been having with our rifles. We compared notes and that was about it.” James felt his confidence weaken as Bennett’s withering stare penetrated his seemingly invincible armor. You’ve gone too far this time, Jimmy, he thought as he forced himself not to look away.

      “Do you understand what you are suggesting besides the idea that the British military is involved?”

      James nodded slowly. “I am aware of the implication, sir, but we’re talking more than just your people. If you want to get really serious, we have to include elements of the Canadian and British military, government, and supposedly respectable business leaders as well.”

      Bennett looked down to his papers and closed the file. “Why don’t you two go have a drink? We’ll be along shortly. Leeanne is already there, James, but the mood she’s in, you might want to think about getting blown up again.”

      James and Brian stood and came to attention before leaving. Hanson stood and placed the Fielding message on the desk. “If you’ll excuse me, William, I think I’ll join those two idiots. Someone better start keeping an eye on them before they really hurt themselves.”

      “Sit down, Harold.” Bennett picked up the phone and dialed. “Bennett here, Sir. We seem to have a bit of a problem. Some people came up with a very interesting idea … Yes, Sir. A VC winner and a decrepit old General who has Intelligence experience … Yes, Sir, Hanson … Thank you, Sir.”

      “Why do I think we just stepped into a heap o’ trouble?”

      “Your son-in-law is a very clever young man, Harold.” He shuffled the papers on his desk, mulling over his choice of words. “Our people have been working on this idea for several months now as reports of defective weapons keep surfacing. So far, nothing has come of it. Nothing, that is, but a deep-rooted suspicion that both internal and external forces are at work.”

      “I didn’t know you were having that same problem until James mentioned it.”

      Bennett nodded. “We have two separate investigations on the go. One is through normal channels. The second is code word classified.”

      “Why are you telling me all this?” Hanson asked carefully, realizing the importance of the security designation.

      “Because, Harold, our investigations seem to parallel the problem you chaps have stumbled upon.”

      “My side isn’t going to like me being dragged in.”

      “Your side is being informed as we speak. Right now, the four of us have more first-hand knowledge of this situation than anybody else.”

      “If that’s the case, William, then you don’t have very good investigators.”

      “Actually, Captain Crawford and I control the second investigation. Scotland Yard will take the heat if anything goes awry. We’ll say nothing to the other two until tomorrow.”

      “We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

      “You can leave in the afternoon.”

      As they walked to the mess, Hanson mulled over the situation. The implications were insidious, and those involved were liable to face charges of conspiracy, arms trafficking, and fraud. And, he promised himself, one count of first-degree murder in the death of Corporal Franklin Emerson.