doors opened. She let herself be led to Hennessey's room quietly, like a sheep to slaughter.
Hennessey opened his door, a few minutes later, in answer to the bellhop's knock. Tipping the man a tetradrachma and dismissing him, he gestured for Lourdes Nunez-Cordoba to enter. She hesitated, automatically. Helping find a house for someone you barely knew was one thing; being alone in a hotel room with a near stranger was something a Balboan girl of good upbringing just didn't do. The thought of what the hotel staff had assumed about her made her skin crawl.
Overcoming her rearing, Lourdes walked in. 'It's very nice to see you again, Patricio.'
'And you, too. Have you been well?'
'I'm all right, but my work has closed because of the world's economy since the First Landing attacks. I know after all you've suffered that's small beans, but I'm out of a job. My family has been supporting me. With business so depressed, and so many people out of work, I doubt I will find another job soon.'
'You already have one, working for me, if you want to and are willing to put up with some conditions.'
Lourdes immediately raised a suspicious eyebrow. 'What conditions?' she asked. I am a good girl dammit! You may be good looking, but you are not THAT good looking.
Understanding, in part at least, Hennessey chuckled slightly. 'Probably not what you're thinking. First, your job will be general clerical, with some supervisory responsibilities, work gangs and such, and some teaching. Second, the pay is twelve hundred per month plus room and board. You'll earn your pay, believe me. I am not easy to work for.' Twelve hundred per month was good pay, very good, by the standards of the Republica de Balboa.
'I don't believe that.'
'Believe it, Lourdes. I'm not a nice man.'
'I don't believe that, either.' The woman thought for a while. This is the best offer I've had lately. Reaching a decision, she answered, 'I'll take it.'
'Good. I'd hoped you would. You're on the payroll as of the beginning of the eighth month. I'll have your first monthly paycheck for you tomorrow. Oh, yes, there is one other thing before you commit yourself. I expect absolute loyalty, discretion, and obedience from those who work for me. You must also never tell anyone, not your boyfriend, your parents, or your priest-no one-what you do for me or what I do. Can you do that?'
'I don't have a boyfriend right now. I'm a Baptist, so I don't have a priest. I can keep quiet.' She hesitated. 'Are you planning something illegal? I don't want anything to do with drugs… or guns.'
'No drugs. And we won't be running guns, if that's what you're worried about.'
'All right then. What's my first job?'
'For now, you're going to lunch with me and a few close friends. Then we'll meet the real estate agent you found for me.'
Chorrera Province, Republic of Balboa, 13/8/459 AC
' Senor, I am certain this will fit your needs,' announced the fat, greasy-looking real estate agent. He may have been fat and greasy looking, but Lourdes had checked and he had an enviable reputation for fair dealing.
It had taken four days, and fourteen houses and ranches, before the agent had finally brought them to something appropriate. Lourdes had not understood what was wrong with the others they had seen. Hennessey hadn't bothered to explain. The one in front of which Hennessey, McNamara, the realtor, the two engineers and Lourdes stood seemed close to fitting the bill. It was some eighteen or twenty miles east of Balboa City, on a promontory overlooking the ocean, a mansion of sorts, old and built of stone, with a high stone retaining wall fronting the highway to the south and east. It had the 'haunted house' look that said it hadn't been occupied or properly cared for for some years.
'What do you think, Sergeant Major?'
McNamara's head leaned a bit to the side, contemplating. 'Security potential is good, very good. We've got cliffs on t'ree sides. Hard for someone to get in directly. A little wire would make it even harder. T'en t'ere's t'e wall around it. T'at can be improved a bit, too; wire… broken glass… watchposts or security cameras… t'at sort of t'ing. I figure an easy one hundred and fifty meter clear zone inside t'e wall, twice t'at on t'e side facin' t'e road. It's t'e best we've seen so far. And, you know, sir, it's actually a perfect place to control t'e highway from t'e city to t'e interior, if we ever needed to. I'd like to see it from t'e air before you buy it t'ough.'
'Good thought.' Hennessey considered for a moment, then said, 'Lourdes, please take the car and the sergeant major back to the city. Go to La Punta Airport. Rent an airplane or a helicopter, if you can, with a pilot. Then, Sergeant Major, I want you to check this place out from above. The agent can drive the rest of us back after we look over the inside. We'll meet you back at the hotel.'
Restraining the impulse to salute-barely-McNamara contented himself with a nod and left. Lourdes turned and followed McNamara quietly as Hennessey and his engineers, Esterhazy and Clean, walked forward to inspect the mansion.
'Where do you know Patricio from, Sergeant Major?' Lourdes kept her eyes on the road as she and the CSM chatted.
'T'e old man? We go back a few years. Have kind of a mutual admiration society. He t'inks I'm about t'e best sergeant major he ever met.' McNamara chuckled and flashed a smile brilliant in his homely black face. 'And I am. I know he's about t'e best commander I ever met…at any rank.'
'What makes him so special?' Besides that he's cute… and I don't think you care about that.
'If you were a soldier it would be easier to explain. I don't know how to explain it to a civvie.'
'Try.'
'He's a warrior; t'e real article, no fake. He's afraid of absolutely not'ing. A lot of people aren't afraid of deat', and neit'er is he. But it's rare not to fear even disgrace… and he don't. Why, when our brigade commander once told him to stop training to fight or get relieved… but never mind t'at. Long story. Sad one, too.' McNamara sighed despondently.
'He wasn't always well liked in t'e army. As a matter of fact he was sometimes hated. Smart as hell; too smart for some. Too… aggressive. Also he's t'e best trainer of infantry, any soldiers really, t'at I've ever seen. I've never met anyone who even came close, and I've worked for t'e big boys. He can take a group of nice clean-cut kids and make t'em into fanatics in about six mont's. And he loves soldiers. We tend to reciprocate when we get a boss like t'at. After a few months' acquaintance troops'll die for him.'
'I find it hard to believe that,' Lourdes commented.
McNamara gave her a look that was half pitying.
Seeing the look, Lourdes said, 'He told me that he wasn't a very nice man.'
The sergeant major laughed aloud. 'T'at's a crock. If you're one of his t'ere's no battle he won't fight for you; not'in' he won't do. Take me, for example. I was slowly dyin' from sheer lack of purpose. T'en he came about two t'ousand miles to find me and give me a reason to go on living, to make my last years good ones. No, he is a very nice man. Besides, you should see him some time, when t'e bullets are flying and the mortar rounds going crump. Eyes glowing from inside, I swear to it.'
'And what are the two of you going to do?'
'I don't know all of t'e details yet. What I do know is t'at we're goin' to work to make an army for Balboa to help in t'is war… and to make it a good one. He's bringin' in anot'er eighteen or twenty people, specialists sort of, to help wit' t'e work.'
Lourdes thought about that as she drove. A 'good' army? My country has never had a 'good' army. Whatever army we have had has typically been just an instrument of oppression, corruption, or-more usually-both. But those problems are out of my ability to influence in any case. Who knows, maybe here I might be able to do some good.
Hotel Julio Caesare, Ciudad Balboa
'Another drink, Top?'
McNamara thought it over briefly. 'No, sir, enough for me already.' He refrained from saying, 'enough for you, too.' Not his place, so the sergeant major felt. Besides, Patrick Hennessey drunk is still a better commander than ninety-nine out of one hundred are stone sober. Even so, Hennessey sober is better than Hennessey drunk. Mac's tone betrayed his thoughts.
Hennessey understood the tone. He even agreed. Sometimes he worried that the alcohol was becoming too much of a crutch. He signaled the waitress for one more, not a double this time. Contented, McNamara let it
