Back to You

Posted on Sat Oct 12th, 2024 @ 2:06pm by Chief Inspector Philip Brandt & Sergeant 1st Class Caleb Weatherly

2,637 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Boys of Summer
Location: Brian's Pub, Santiago Bay CBD
Timeline: MD1

ON

Hands wrapped around a warm cup of java in Brian's Pub, Phil Brandt looked over his briefing notes provided by the intelligence section for Jim Mazlish, Sagan Prime's representative on the Federation Council. Over the past few years, Mazlish had also served as the Federations Secretary for Mining, a position that had garnered many threats of violence from the wider Federation mining community and its unions.

Mazlish had continually provided feedback on what he thought about the protection details across the Federation. Mostly on what he thought they'd done wrong. Amongst this, he went out of his way to talk about alleged missteps by the SBPD and its Protective Security Unit, and Starfleet, in handling his security. Some of the notes this guy provided made him sound like he was out of his mind.

Brandt noticed his right-hand man, Caleb Weatherly, now a Sergeant, enter Brian's pub. The bald barista offered Weatherly his pre-ordered coffee as Brandt stood to welcome his fellow officer.

"Caleb," Brandt called, stepping around a couch and offering a welcoming hand to shake, "How were your holidays?"

"Too short Philip," Caleb smiled and extended his hand. "Missed me while I was away, Commissioner?"

"I've told you to stop calling me that," Brandt laughed. "My time in office is done, they've given this tidy little patch to monitor until I retire. Life is good. As it will be for you too, Sergeant First Class. Congratulations on that, by the way."

Taking a seat Caleb laughed with him, "Look when I read in the personnel files that the Commissioners's name was Philip I had to remember to keep that ace in the back pocket for a day like this. Yes Sargeant I guess Rebecca Clark's protection detail helped out with the department image."

"I'm just glad everyone forgot about that photo of you running up the stairs covered in white powder at Jeffrey Readman's house," Brandt laughed. "Those were the days, huh?"

Caleb laughed along remembering that scumbag he picked up, "God I haven't heard of that sack of shit's name for like ages. You know how we got him in the end?" he spoke as he took a sip of his drink.

"Tax evasion," Brandt smirked.

"That's what it said on the arrest application," smirked Caleb as looked at Brandt, "Caught him with a shitload of money and drugs also found abundant of turtle lubricant from Risa and pounds of Columbian marching powdered he was attempting to feltch himself with a garden hose. Definitely the stupidest person I had to apprehend."

"And the wackiest." Brandt shook his head, then took a sip of his coffee, "Jesus. So what did you do on your holidays, Sergeant?"

"You really want to know," smirked Caleb as he took a sip, "How do I know if you are not wearing a wire Philip? Nah to be honest literally took the USS Hamlet to Risa and partied with the enlisted. I know the CO of the Hamlet she owed me a trip. Yourself?"

"Bird watching with the wife," Brandt replied, placing his coffee down. "Took a shuttle out to Little Andoria, found a nice little BnB, relaxed for a few days. Knowing we had a new special assignment on the horizon, though, kinda put a wet blanket on the whole affair."

"That's fair. Little Andoria how is the food out that way?" asked Caleb as he took another sip, "Mhm before you answer that this new assignment what's that all about? I have had nothing from the Department here I was thinking of joining Tactical Response with the new Chief Inspector Sun or was it Moon it's one or the other I get easily confused."

"Moon. Good operator, I did a few narc operations with her, knows what she's doing," Brandt said, taking another swig of his coffee, that was now growing tepid. He winced a little and returned it to the table. "Listen, this one has come down from the department, they want you on this. Jim Mazlish has decided to come back home for Sagan Remembers."

Caleb frowned as he heard Brandt request, "Oh who has the cuckstain pissed off now, Andorian Miner's Guild? or wait Jimmy Thimble of the Duras Jewellery Fund? or Both?"

"Both and more," Brandt laughed. "It seems a massive mining lease fell through for a company rivalled by one that Mazlish had invested in. That was after he sunk their worker's union. There's a rumour he's got some guys following him around. I wouldn't consider that big news, but they made some threats against his wife, Lana. You know her? Local gal."

Caleb frowned even harder upon hearing Brandt's tale. "The man is as useless as tits on a bull, I tell you what. I know we have to be apolitical here, but my god, why do we keep voting for him every time?" he spoke as he stopped and finished his drink. "Yeah, Lana Sweeny honestly doesn't know why she's with him either. He either gives her a generous allowance or maybe he actually loves her or maybe he has a massive prick. Who knows?"

"Too right. Well, either way, she's had threats made against her life. Even Mazlish is taking it seriously. So, he didn't just have notes for us on how we could do it better, but explicit instructions to keep an eye on his wife," Brandt explained. "Given your experience with Rebecca Clark, the Commissioner and I want you to take lead on this."

"Sounds like Mazlish is taking this seriously. Hey Brian, could we get something a bit stronger? Two glasses of Jameson Scotch on the rocks, please. Put it on the old man's tab here," said Weatherly, gesturing to the bar. Brian promptly poured out two tumblers of scotch and placed them in front of the two men.

Weatherly took a sip of the strong liquor and looked at Brandt with a serious expression. "Listen, if the Commissioner and you want me to take on this task, that's fine. But let me be clear: I'm doing it for the Santiago Bay Police Department, not just for Jim Mazlish. And there's a catch."

“You have a duty, Weatherly, it doesn’t matter whether you like the guy or not,” Brandt reminded him.

Caleb took a heavy sip of scotch before blurting out, "I understand that. But what's the budget for this operation? Are we going to have the freedom to work with a decent budget, or will we be forced to scrape together the scraps of leftover funding from previous operations?"

"You know the deal, full immunity and means, the department can't afford to be embarrassed by a critical incident. You'll have all the resources of the SBPD at your disposal, but no funny business, I don't want to explain to a Federation Council Committee why you used a hundred boxes of teabags or something." Brandt responded.

"Ah, well. I suppose I can live with that," Caleb smirked as he lifted his tumbler of single malt Scotch and drained the amber liquid in one smooth motion. He signalled to Brian with a flick of his wrist for another pour. "What do you say, old chap? Will you be sticking around a bit longer with me in the department?"

"I'll die in harness," Brandt smiled. "So, are you coming back, or do I have to do this shit myself?"

Caleb chuckled. "Lana has a set of things that I hold dear and want to protect," he said, smirking at Brandt. "No need to twist my arm, Philip. I'm still on Risa time, so sorry for drinking so early this morning. I will do this to get you out of this pickle, my friend."

"That'd be right, Jesus," Brandt grumbled with a roll of the eyes. "That's all you see, a bit of crumpet isn't it. Do you know who this guy is, Caleb? Jim Mazlish is not a nice guy."

"Look, no doubt I will read the behaviour team's report on him, but going by what other council members who had dealings with him say, I can understand why he has so many enemies," spoke Caleb as he took a sharp sip of his Scotch. "Lana is the collateral damage of having a personality of a toad mixed with a bull ant. Jim's misconduct shouldn't be her fault. Plus, I like crumpets."

“So do I, they’re quite moorish,” Brandt agreed. “Listen, you’re there to guard her. Don’t compromise yourself. Not professionally, and not for him to sink his teeth into.”

"Really depends on the topping doesn't it," smirked Caleb as finished his second tumbler, "It must be bad if he is worried. What are your thoughts?"

"A dead wife isn't good PR, if you could prevent it?" Brandt suggested.

Caleb thought about the PR issues that Brandt had suggested. The last thing was an internal probe into the Department, as well as a personal investigation into Senior. Senior's whereabouts were still unclear. "Have you looked into the other matter?" Caleb asked, gesturing to Brian and requesting another shot of Scotch.

Brian looked exhausted as he brought over the bottle and placed it in front of Caleb. "Should I leave the bottle?" he asked.

"Probably saves the trips," Caleb said with a smile as he reached for the bottle of scotch he deftly pulled out the cork and poured a generous shot into a heavy glass. Taking a satisfying sip, savouring the rich flavour and the warmth that spread through his chest. As he lowered the glass, he watched Brian walk off to wipe down the counter, muttering to himself about some small annoyance.

"So do you know of whereabouts Senior is? asked Caleb as he snapped back to Brandt, "Although he is annoying. Not hearing from him for ages makes me wonder what he is up to?"

"I've heard a few people around the place saying the same thing," Brandt replied. "Maybe we should assign you to the security detail at Sagan Remembers, he might just show up. Rumour is, he's still on the planet."

Caleb took a sip and spoke thoughtlessly, "Not hearing from him makes you wonder." He snapped back to the present and turned to Brandt. "I'll go to the event as a spectator. I want to see Mazlish in his element and assess everything. If Senior is there, great, but I'm not holding my breath. He could be on a pre-warp planet working as a jury consultant for all I know. I'm just one of his sons, after all."

"And just one of the ones you know about," Brandt nodded. "Yeah, I know. Don't forget you've also got a family in the department. We haven't given up on you."

"Thanks," smirked Caleb, feeling grateful to have someone on his side. "Do we need to recruit more people for the Protection Division? I recognize that we may need a few extra hands to assist us in our assignment?"

"We've already pulled in a few people," Brandt replied. "You got any suggestions?"

"I hope the new recruits aren't washed-out tactical response people," laughed Caleb, looking at Brandt's facial expressions to see if he shared his sense of humour. "Wait a minute, you didn't recruit Gerry Flanagan, did you? After what he did, I'm surprised he would even consider working for us."

"Nah, Flanagan has moved over to Criminal Investigations so he can line himself up to be our new Commissioner." Brandt laughed. "We've got some new folks, good eggs. A couple of veterans, people I know we can count on."

"Really, Flanagan as Commissioner?" spoke Caleb, sounding shocked. "I heard he was caught with some Bynars trying to be the meat in the middle of that asexual sandwich. It's amazing that man can keep it in his pants, to be honest."

"He's a pervert in the first degree," Brandt agreed. "Perfect one for latching on to power and keeping hold of it, holier than thou all the way. Anyway, no, he won't be in the unit, but don't be shocked if he shows up in the course of your duties. I'm sure he'll want to stick his neck in to be seen by the VIPs. Just ignore him. Speaking of such things, Mazlish has given us a list of demands-- I mean, requirements."

"Oh really? asked Caleb as raised his eyebrow, "Well it's not uncommon for an individual to have some demands."

"We've got a real expert on our hands," Brandt said, passing over a PADD with several pages of notes. "Most of it is pretty routine, but I do note that he is quite insistent that any room he is in will be swept for surveillance devices. Further, he wants an encrypted data connection at all times."

"Well Jim doesn't want blackmail material ending up in the wrong hands or better yet he doesn't want to know what Lana is up to or it's the other way around?" spoke Caleb as he poured himself another glass, "Now for the encrypted data connection well I want to say it's harmless. But if I was slick like Jim he would probably install his own surveillance so that he can watch Lana or better yet a bit more sinister to watch himself and his latest conquests, or maybe him sitting in the corner flogging one-off. Hate to imagine."

"It's not our role to judge, I suppose," Brandt said. "I agree, though, he's probably up to something sinister. The number of things I had to keep quiet when I was Commissioner any time he was caught out. Sheesh."

Caleb's mind still echoed Brandt's words "It's not our role to judge," but he couldn't resist a quip. "Oh, come on," he said with a smile. "I'm guessing a few DUIs and maybe a fake Section 31 badge to score some perks around here, huh?"

"Or the threat of a union henchman," Brandt nodded. A fresh cup of coffee was delivered, and he took a sip. "On that note, you're there to protect him, Caleb, you're not his personal police force. You don't allow him to influence you."

"If I see any signs of trouble, I'll report it to you immediately so we can get the team out of there," Caleb said firmly as he took another sip. "If we want this to work, we need to assess who poses the greater risk and assign an appropriate response. Maybe we can give Mazlish some basic protection, like a panic button, and focus on keeping Lana alive?"

"Given the protection Mazlish already has, that wouldn't be a bad idea," Brandt agreed. "Despite his concern for her safety, it has always seemed to be a secondary concern. I worry this might be used to a threat's advantage."

After taking a sip, Caleb pondered their next move. "As Sun Tzu said, 'Thus the expert in battle moves the enemy and is not moved by him'," he remarked, turning to face Brandt. "I believe our best option is to focus on her. It's the most direct approach - getting to him through his woman - despite their complicated romantic relationship."

"Agreed," Brandt nodded. He took a few gulps of his coffee and stood, "Well, since you're officially on the case, I want you to sober up and report to the PSU office at HQ. Just ask for Constable Kuntz, he'll show you where we are. Tonight, we're having a meeting with Mazlish, 5pm, at the office. Don't be late and, uh, enjoy your last day of freedom, Sergeant."

After taking a final drag and downing the last of his drink, Caleb stood up from his seat. "So, just to confirm, your man's name is Kuntz with a 'Z,' correct?" he asked, flashing a smile as he extended his hand to bid goodbye. "Looking forward to seeing you at the briefing."

OFF

 

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