Chapter Fourteen

Bug

A joker, used in some games as a limited wild card.

*

"Oh, my lord! This is all my fault!"

Eroica was taken aback when James was shown in and suddenly burst into tears. He was all the more shocked when the man fell to his knees and clasped his hand, begging for forgiveness.

"James, what on Earth are you babbling about?" the Earl said gently. "And for Pete's sake, get off the floor."

"No, I deserve to be on the floor. I deserve whatever happens to me. It's all my fault! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry."

"What is all your fault?"

James looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "That...that... It... They must've..." His voice caught in his throat and he finally blurted out. "That they want to kill you!" Then he burst into tears again.

Eroica's eyebrows went up and he glanced at the equally startled Alphabets. "Would someone get him some water, please?" He looked down, added ironically, "And a valium."

It took several minutes before the story could be extracted in any kind of coherent manner. Just as Eroica had suspected, James was from the U.S. Treasury Department. He had originally been assigned to keep track of the monies generated by Project: Eroica. Since it was an ultra-secret Black Ops, it had to be self-funding, which turned out to be no problem after the Eroica gang was fully established. Project: Eroica generated more than enough funds to pay for itself.

Around the time of Eroica's mental breakdown, James started to suspect a shift in the direction of the operation. After the principle agent, this being Marshall, became less than reliable, the operation should have been called to a halt. Instead, the operation was merely put on hold "for a few years." Rather than end the project, Tomlinson seemed obsessed with keeping it going.

This was when James started keeping his own private database. The excess monies collected by Project: Eroica were originally supposed to fund other Black Ops. James started tracking the transfer of funds to see if they coincided. For several years, they did. Then at some point, it became apparent that Eroica's exploits were considerably more profitable than anyone could have imagined. Suddenly, "projects" were being funded left and right.

After several years of careful digging, James learned where the money was going, but by this time, he was so far removed from the Treasury Department. He had no idea what to do with the information. At one point, he actually considered contacting the Major to let him handle it.

Then the terrorist attacks of September 11 turned the world on its head. The United States suddenly turned its attention to the monies funding terrorists world wide, tracking international bank transfers. Soon after this, the orders came down to wind up the project by seeking certain information at NATO's European headquarters.

"Someone must've found out that I was digging into their money laundering operation," James said fearfully. "They must've thought it would be shut off, what with all the focus on terrorist funding. So, they ordered the project terminated. And us with it!"

* * *

Klaus listened in a stunned silence as Agent A reported the startling turn of events in Bali. Thus far, Eroica had kept his word, which could just as likely be a ploy to gain his confidence. The Earl had already proven he was very good at lying, having kept his identity as a CIA agent a secret all these years. Conversely, Klaus could not deny that the man's connections would prove invaluable. He also could not deny that the Eroica gang would be all the more willing to assist if they knew their leader was also in on this...endeavor.

"Mr. James says he can assist in the financial end of things, sir," A was saying. "I haven't told him that he already is, in a way."

A small smile crept at the edges of Klaus's mouth. What would James say when he learned they were already using his stash to fund the operation?

"We'll go along with them for the moment," Klaus said finally. "We need all the help we can get. Just don't leave them alone together, even for a second. Not until I'm sure we can trust them."

"Yes, sir." A paused. "He's been asking about Bonham and the others. What should I tell him?"

Klaus thought a moment. "Give me an hour to get his people together. I think they'll be more cooperative if they hear all this directly from him."

* * *

"So, the flu didn't kill you after all," Klaus observed when the video link was established. He found himself relieved to see that the Earl looked considerable healthier than the last time he had spoken to him.

Eroica smiled briefly. "No, no. I'm all recovered, as you can see. You'll still have your chance to kill me yourself when you get back."

Klaus gave an amused snort. "Did A tell you what this is about?"

"Yes. Is everyone there?"

Klaus stepped aside to allow Bonham to answer. A moment later, the Eroica gang were taking their turns happily greeting their absent leader. Once this was done, Klaus was back in front of the camera discussing how best to deal with Tomlinson and Schreckengost when he arrived in Virginia.

"Tomlinson is a bit of a wet blanket," Eroica sighed. "Just think of him as your American counterpart and you'll get on like gangbusters."

"Don't compare me to a bloody Yank traitor," Klaus growled.

Eroica's eyebrows went up at the word "traitor" but he did not comment on it. Just what did the Major consider himself after what he had done? A patriot? A vigilante?

"And what of Dr. Andy?" Klaus asked, breaking into the Earl's thoughts.

"Ah, he's another kettle of fish..."

* * *

Klaus had been surprised and delighted that the Atlantic crossing had not taken forever. They were able to make port along Canada's Labrador coast to pick up further supplies. His chosen double, Jerry, was able leave from this point and fly ahead of the group, meeting with Agent M's team already in Virginia. This would lay the groundwork for what the thieves had already started calling Operation: Doppelgänger.

Just before setting back out to sea, Klaus was informed that the engines were starting to act up. The mechanic onboard assured him that they would be able to make the relatively short journey to Virginia, but if this were not the case, they would still be able to pull into whatever port they happened to be near, since the worst case scenario of being stranded in the middle of the Atlantic was no longer a worry.

Klaus did not remark on any of the problems when they were brought to his attention. He had known things would not continue to go smoothly. Despite the engine difficulties, they had still made good time crossing the Atlantic. After leaving port, he had the sub remain in international waters as long as possible. It was a sure bet that the various U.S. government agencies were tracking the Aqua Zep's movements via satellite, not that he made any effort to hide them. But it wasn't until they actually entered U.S. territory that things seemed to fall apart all at once. First, it was the engines that decided to play up yet again, this time overheating. While they were being allowed to cool down, the Coast Guard started showing an interest. First with a fly over, then a radio call, then a ship appeared on the horizon.

Fuck, was all Klaus could think as he watched the approaching ship draw closer and closer. Obviously, after last September's terrorist attacks, the U.S. was taking no chances.

"Time for plan B, Major," Craig said suddenly, pulling at the officer's sleeve.

Klaus gave him a bewildered look. "Plan B?"

Craig held up the curly blond wig and grinned. "It requires a costume change."

* * *

By the time the Coast Guard ship arrived, Klaus found himself torn between going through with Craig's elaborate "Plan B," or just giving himself up.

"Major, it's an illusion," Craig was saying to the man behind an ornately painted divider. "You have to show a little skin."

"I'm not stripping naked!" Klaus reiterated. "You're as bad as Eroica. A bunch of fucking perverts."

Craig rolled his eyes. "You must've been loads of fun to share a locker room with, Major."

A pair of angry green eyes glared over the top of the divider.

"You don't need to strip to nothing, just to your civvies." Craig turned to John Paul, who had been standing near the door. "Get Lord Gloria's blue robe out," he said, waving a hand in the direction of the closet. "The one that looks like a long smoking jacket."

The robe was retrieved and handed to the Major, who put it on with further muttered protests. He was relieved to find that it covered him almost completely. Illusion or no, he was not about to parade around naked, as he felt sure Eroica would do if their positions were reversed. Craig gave him the blue contact lenses that he had been practicing putting in. They were supposed to be for his appearance in Langley. Now it seemed that a dress rehearsal was being called for as the blond wig was quickly put into position.

The sound of raised voices, or more specifically, Bonham's raised voice coming from out in the hall was the cue the men in the cabin had been waiting for.

"This had better work," Klaus growled as he took up his position behind the divider again.

The door burst open before Craig could answer.

"I told you lot ‘is lordship's not decent yet," Bonham protested, his thick accent returning for the first time that Klaus could recall.

Klaus drew a deep breath, steadied himself, and then turned, all smiles, to look over the divider. "Oh! They're here." He came out from behind the barrier, grudging doing as Craig had instructed and allowing his bare legs to show for the briefest of instants, making it appear as though he wore nothing beneath the robe. "I haven't changed yet." He took a seat, making a show of covering his bare legs before looking over at Craig and John Paul, who were holding up different outfits, one in each hand. He put a hand to his chin, turning his head to one side as though in deep contemplation.

"They would na listen ta me, m'lord," Bonham said apologetically, standing aside to allow the two men from the Coast Guard into the room.

"Sir, are you the one in charge of this...circus?" the first man practically demanded.

"Circus?" came the innocent reply. "Hardly that." He turned back to contemplate his wardrobe. "Which one do you think I should wear, Captain?"

"Ensign," the man corrected. "Ensign Cartwright."

Klaus waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever." He moved his hand to indicate the clothes. "I rather like the sailor suit."

"Sir..." Cartwright practically growled.

"Well, I want to be dressed properly when I'm arrested, don't I?" Klaus said in the most infuriating way he knew how. If it were him, he knew he would blow a gasket to be treated in this manner. He was not disappointed.

"Look, Lord Whoever-you-are...!"

"Gloria." Klaus got to his feet, dropping all pretense and affectation, and shifting his accent back to the combined English-American one he had used on Tomlinson. "And you already know that's a cover." He was inwardly pleased at the shocked look this caused on the Ensign's face. "Or do you?"

Cartwright found himself at a loss for words and turned to the man with him, who shrugged.

The disguised Klaus waved a hand. "Bonham, ID," he ordered before turning back to the Coast Guardsmen. "My name is John Marshall and I'm with the CIA, who were supposed to've contacted you that I was coming under the cover of the Earl of Gloria." He did not wait for a reply, snatching the suit that he had already selected to wear from Craig's hand. It was the only conservative one in the lot, which wasn't surprising since it was his own.

"Excuse me while I get dressed," he said dismissively, waving a hand to everyone.

"Sir, um...Agent Marshall..." Cartwright began.

Klaus was already behind the divider and looked over the top of it. "Search the ship, if that's what you were planning on doing. We're not carrying anything." So saying, he vanished back behind the divider.

Craig was inwardly applauding as he hustled everyone from the cabin. He and John Paul waited alongside the bewildered Coast Guardsmen as Major changed costumes. Bonham appeared with the CIA IDs the same instant the "Earl" exited his cabin.

Cartwright looked at the IDs and goggled. "Um, I'll need to have these verified..."

"Just this way, sir," John Paul volunteered, holding out a hand before leading the way.

* * *