The Lotus Eaters

'I know,' Carrera agreed. 'Kuralski is working out a scheme to have units going through your training center operate against other, main force, units.'

'Trying to work out that scheme,' Kuralski corrected.

'You'll succeed, I am sure,' Carrera said.

'Month to train?' Samsonov asked.

'Sure. Rather, six weeks. The FSA Rangers will be here then. In any case, I'm more interested in hitting at the right time than at any particular set time. We've got to look for a confluence of tidal and weather factors, plus eyes-on-target knowledge that the targets are home. The first two are givens, since our weather is fairly stable that time of year, and the last two are under our control.'

'Can do, then,' the Volgan said. 'If someone else bring to fight. And we get to train together for while. Must first talk men into it. You join us tonight at regimental dinner?'

'If you think it will help,' Carrera answered.

'Could hurt?'

'No, probably not. If this is family, too, I'll send for Lourdes and Mitchell's wife.'

'Might help.'

Carrera gave Samsonov a curious, raised eyebrow look. 'You were planning a formal regimental officers' dinner for this evening? Odd sense of timing.'

'Could see coming,' Samsonov answered, with a shrug. 'You got whole Legion, practically, disassembled to rebuild bigger. What you haven't is off in jungle in La Palma. Mine only force still whole that not already in jungle hunting guerillas.'

* * *

Lourdes had been reluctant even to broach the subject with Mitchell's wife, Chica, thinking, It's just too soon for her to be going to a social event.

Still, at Carrera's insistence, his wife had explained it. Chica had had exactly one question. 'Will it help get revenge for my husband and the father of my children?'

'Maybe,' Lourdes had admitted. 'That's what Patricio told me he intends, anyway.'

The corners of Chica's mouth turned up in a wintery smile. 'Then I'm going. I'm definitely going.'

* * *

Bagpipes, thought Carrera, are an odd thing to hear at a Volgan dinner. Bagpipes being accompanied by balalaikas and jackbooted dancers stomping atop tables is altogether too weird.

Carrera kept his face carefully blank. Oh, well, at least they cleaned their boots, given the food out, and all.

Samsonov leaned over and, over the screeching, said into Carrera's ear, 'We borrow pipers from Second Infantry Tercio. Down in jungle, they not need anyway. Cost me two pallets of good vodka even so.'

'Why don't you start your own band?' Carrera asked.

'Working. Slow. The Jagelonians have pipes, but different, not so loud . . . forceful. We have . . . a dozen men working on learning. Someday. Not yet ready.'

'Fair enough,' Carrera agreed. 'Do me a favor though.'

'What that?'

'If . . . when you do get your pipe band going, please don't have them pipe in the haggis. As a matter of fact, please don't have haggis.' Not if you want me to show up again.

'Haggis start on dare,' Samsonov said. 'We paratroopers . . . we crazy; we not stupid.'

At a subtle signal from the pipe major—it was, in fact, too subtle for Carrera to catch—the pipers, who had been marching around between the tables and the walls of Samsonov's regimental officers' club, suddenly stopped their marching. The dancers ceased their stomping, jumping, and somersaulting, then bowed as one, jumped off of the tables, formed up and marched off to the tune of the pipes. The pipers, too, formed up behind the dancers and marched off through the main door, their music fading as they went.

'We emotional people,' Samsonov said. 'Sentimental. Watch.'

'Watch what?' Carrera asked.

'Evil capitalist term: Salesmanship,' the Volgan answered.

'Aren't you concerned about security leaks? I mean, Fernandez has never caught one from among your people, but it only stands to reason . . .'

'We have leaks,' Samsonov answered. 'Many of them. But the leaks are to State Security back in Volga, not to people you want us to attack and destroy.'

'And VSS has nobody involved in crime?' Carrera asked, dubiously.

'Many, but not this kind of crime . . . well, drug running, yes, but opium, not huanuco. If we take down the Santanderns, is, from VSS point of view . . . eliminating competitor product . . . and competitor. Now watch.' Samsonov twisted around and said to one of his younger officers, 'Menshikov, translate for the Duque.'

* * *