He might eat his own guts over it later, but he would never let that stop him. And… frankly, so what? It isn't like those are our people being killed.'
'But that's precisely the point, Virgil. If we let a maniac like that loose near our people there's no telling how many… oh.'
'Right, Mr. Secretary. In the mountains of southern Sumer-Yezidistan, if you prefer-there are not going to be any of our people, not until the 731st Airborne makes its drop. And if I know Hennessey, and I do, he'll just wave at the 731st as they drop and continue the march to wherever he can find a fight.'
'Balboans, huh? Well… can Thomas get by without them?'
'Honestly, he doesn't want them. He knows Hennessey from way back and, as he so delicately put it, 'If I never see the son of a bitch again, it'll still be too soon.' They, ummm, really don't like each other.'
'Does anybody like Hennessey? Oh, never mind. All right, Virgil. Work out the details and brief me. And by the way, how are we coming in modifying the plan to take advantage of the awesome shocking power inherent in our technological superiority?'
Rivers, who knew that the only difference had been to take the basic plan and a word processing program and add in the phrase 'awesome shocking power' in one hundred and twenty-seven places, answered, 'Just fine, Mr. Secretary. It's a much better plan now.' Yessir, yessir, three bags full.
Casa Linda, 10/1/461 AC
'Son of a bitch!' Carrera cursed as he read through the dispatch sent this morning from the FS embassy in Ciudad Balboa. He looked rather pleased when he first began to read since the missive contained agreement that his legion would be hired at the agreed price by the FS for the coming campaign. As he had read further though…
'What is it, Patricio? What's wrong?' Lourdes asked.
'That motherfu… it's Campos. He'll hire us on but not for the mission we originally agreed to. Instead of going to the north with our equipment going by sea and then basing out of al Jahara, we have to go south-by air, mind you, which is much more expensive-and establish ourselves in Yezidistan. Then we have to fight through to where an FS airborne brigade is going to jump in, and continue operations with them until we link up with coalition forces somewhere north of Babel.'
He kept reading before admitting, 'Oh. Well, it isn't that bad. We get the airborne brigade's artillery and service support battalions flown in and attached to us in advance in Yezidistan. And he's offering to allow us to cost-plus the extra money we'll have to spend to get the Volgans to fly us in over what it would have cost for us to go by sea.'
'So you will actually make more money than you planned?'
'Ummm… maybe. No telling what we'll face or what we'll lose. And I've been in those mountains before. They practically defend themselves, at least as long as they're not being defended by Yezidis. Yezidis are a net minus to combat power.
'It's going to be tough fighting, though. They're also moving up the date by a week and I am not sure we can have the cold weather gear we'll need on hand by then. Iffy. Lourdes, would you assemble the staff please? Key members only.'
She was about to go, then remembered the phrase 'tough fighting.' That worried her. So, instead of going to use the telephone to spread the word, she locked the door to Carrera's office and went back to stand beside his chair. Then, somewhat to his surprise, she rotated the chair to face her. She dropped to her knees and began to undo his belt.
'This won't take long,' she said, 'I'm getting better at it. And I want to take every chance there is to remind you to come home to me when the fighting is done… and not to let yourself get killed.'
Near Caridad's home,
Las Mesas, Balboa, 12/1/461 AC
Ricardo Cruz leaned against a tree in a secluded spot by the creek that fed Cara's family's farm. He and the girl were asymmetrically undressed, her with her top off and him lacking trousers. She knelt on the trousers so as to leave no tell-tale dirt scuffs as her head bobbed rhythmically back and forth, lips locked in a tight, and, since it was her first occasion, rather odd feeling 'O.'
Cruz had returned home on leave, prior to deploying over to Sumer with the legion. Before returning home, he stopped off at a small jewelry shop on Avenida Central in Ciudad Balboa and purchased a ring. It hadn't been anything amazing, as far as engagement rings went. Still, when he had shown it to Cara and asked her to be his wife she had seemed to think it a marvel equal to the Anglian crown jewels. Naturally, as a well bred and brought up young man, he had asked Cara's parents' permission to marry her, after she had indicated no reluctance on her part. They, weighing his prospects, seeing that he had already been accelerated in rank past most of his peers, and liking him in general, had agreed and discreetly suggested the new couple take a walk somewhere they could plan the future. Well, Cara's parents had been young once, too.
Planning for the future, when you're that young and that in love, means little more than finding a secluded spot and racing to undress.
Ricardo had originally wanted to make love. Cara had not exactly refused, but had made what she thought was a reasonable counteroffer, a little something the girls in her high school sometimes gossiped over and sometimes bragged upon. He'd agreed, she'd tried and found that, while it was an acquired… errr… taste, it was a taste fairly easily acquired. The other taste was not so easily acquired but she'd managed. Twice. This was number three and… well… why not?
Besides, she thought, if those groans and moans are truthful I own him now. Can this little thing really feel as good as all that. Hmmm,
She looked up, smiled shyly and whispered, 'Ricardo, I love you. So… if you want to make love…'
He'd started to lift her up, if only so he could lay her down again on the mossy bank. And then he froze in internal confusion.
I am going to war and I may not be coming back. Too, he remembered something his section leader had told the men once: 'Some day we all must die. Whether our lives will have meant anything depends on how we have lived them. Have we done well by those who cared for us, those for whom we were responsible? Have we done our duty? Who, among the innocent have we harmed? Who have we helped? How is the world better for our having lived? I think God will want to know. I think He'll ask.'
And then what if she gets pregnant and I get killed? That would be a hard thing to inflict on her and the child both, insurance and survivor's benefits notwithstanding.
Cruz whispered back. 'I love you, too, queridisima. But I am going to war soon. We don't know yet what will happen. I hope I'll come back. But I don't know that I will. We'll wait then. Maybe when I return we can continue that conversation. For now…'
Understanding, Cara smiled again, bent her head, and continued her bobbing.
Herrera International Airport,
Ciudad Balboa, 15/1/461 AC
The blue and white painted Air Balboa BG-47 bobbed up and down along the taxiway as it approached the terminal. On one side of its designated gate awaited a similar aircraft, on the other a chartered Volgan LI-68 was already boarding.
Some distance away, at the cargo terminal, teams of men, some civilians and others in the uniform of the Legio del Cid, loaded wide- bodied cargo aircraft-a mix of FS military, FS civilian, Balboan civilian and more Volgan military under charter-with the wheeled vehicles of the legion. Since some of those aircraft bays stood seventy feet above the tarmac, requiring that the wheels be hoisted that distance into the air on self-mobile elevators, the loading was sometimes rather precarious.
The Balboan airport was capable of receiving mid-size airships, of course. But the debarkation airport in Yezidistan was not. This ruled out using LTA craft to move any of the brigade, despite the potential cost savings.
Parilla and Carrera stood off to one side, in a pair together and separate from the confusion around them. Carrera was used to the apparent confusion of a major deployment. Parilla was not and looked plainly concerned over it.
'Relax, Raul. This is so normal that it is the very essence of routine for something like this.'
