My Own Kind of Freedom, page 99 by Steven Brust
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tle curve to the big window that looked out on a shallow hill leading down to a pond. A few trees flanked the pond, and a family of ducks floated in it. There was one chair facing the desk, and it was, at present, unoccupied; the heavy man in the gray uniform stood, sweating. Sakarya sat, glowering.
His voice was barely controlled as he said, "How did they do it, Rennes?"
"It was well-planned, and well-timed, Mister Sakarya. We were transferring the prisoner for transport, had just gotten him loaded, when they were there. They got the drop--"
"Well-timed," repeated Sakarya. "You say it was well-timed."
"Yes, sir."
"Who knew when you'd be doing the transfer?"
"Sir?"
Sakarya closed his eyes and counted to eight.
"How many people knew the transfer schedule, and who were they?"
"There was no transfer schedule, sir. We finished the paperwork, then moved him--"
"Then how could it have been well-timed, you piece of ga-sa?"
Rennes wilted, sputtered, and said, "I meant--"
"You meant they got the drop on you because you weren't expecting him to be rescued, and so you were all going through the motions without paying attention. Is that correct?"
Rennes cringed and looked down.
"Is it?"
"Yes, sir."
Sakarya nodded. "All right. What are we doing about it?"
"Three buzz-boats, roadblocks, and we've put a detail on searching the woods east of town, since that's . . . that is to say, we think they're hiding--"
"You think?"
"We found the vehicle they hijacked, and it was empty. Backtracking along the--"
"You've messed this up just about every way you could, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir."
Sakarya let out a long, slow breath.
"All right," he said at last. "Keep me informed, and try not to screw up any more."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
Sakarya nodded and waved him out of the room. When he was gone, Sakarya hit a button on his desk. A voice came back at once: