The Vanguard Vixen

Target Practice (One)

The bright green neon lights of the Star Hotel were only a block away now. She would have preferred somewhere more discreet but there weren't many places like that in the Vanguard capital.

Not to mention her nearest safehouse was several miles away. Getting there wouldn't be much of a bother for her; at a steady jog, she could have been there in a couple of hours. But she had a burden named Barrow, and it wasn't one of the light ones.

She could hear him breathing erratically behind her, obviously exhausted from their journey. They had been walking for an hour or so in silence except for a few questions from him that she sometimes answered with one or two words, or didn't answer at all. He was smart enough not to push her for their answers.

The Star Hotel wasn't their predetermined destination but seeing the state he was in, they had to make a stop for the night.

There was also something wrong with his heart. It lacked the normal rhythm that healthy people had. She was a bit curious but not enough to ask.

It was then that he realized their stop and inquired, "We're staying at the Star? Doesn't it cost like one thousand credits just to have an ordinary room for a night?"

"One thousand five hundred."

She didn't wait to see the shocked look on his face. Lewis ran a few steps so he was walking next to her.

"You don't seem too excited to be spending a night here. Have you been here before?"

"I've been to better places."

He replied with an obvious lack of belief, "Really? This is the biggest, most luxurious accommodation space in Vanguard. Unless of course the White House, which you can't have- "

Lewis circled her, dropping his voice a bit, although unable to keep the surprise out of it. "You've slept inside the White House? At this rate, I might mistake you for a general. But that's not your rank is it?"

She huffed in annoyance then stopped. "I am a soldier. A vixen, that's my rank."

"Then why is it that you are the only one with that title in Vanguard history?"

That was a question she wasn't ready to answer."Move. Now."

Lucky for him they only had to be in the silent awkward situation for a short time before they reached the hotel. Security here was pretty tight, and there was no way they could avoid the cameras or the guards. They had to just go on with this one.

 A burly guard with a thick moustache blocked their path.

"Identification."

His accent was Prussian. Which probably meant he was new here. Vanguard had only just accepted to open its western ports to Prussian refugees escaping the instability there.
He looked to Lewis, who in turn stared pointedly at her. Her hands were behind her back at the moment, and she kept them that way.

"Express service please."

Lewis' mouth fell open behind her. Express service? That was reserved for the very important people–foreign dignitaries, top-ranked officials, and those who could afford it.

The guard replied in a flat fatigued voice, unhappy to have to recite the rules for an ignorant customer.

"Star rules state that only individuals with four stripes or higher may receive express service."

Before she could show him just how many stripes she had a voice from behind interrupted. One that she recognized nevertheless and was somewhat glad to hear.

"Raspul! Oh my goodness me. Get over here."

Darius was the head of security at the Star. He didn't look like much Raspul was bigger and taller than him. But she knew firsthand what he was capable of. And he was a glory to watch when he fought if you could keep up.