converse in Akawaio they were going to be pretty much out of communication.
'What are they being charged with?' Gordo asked of Drake.
'De bais ah in violayshun de immigrashun,' the Guyanan answered, definitively.
Somehow, Vic thought, it just sounds better with that accent.
'Works for me,' Gordon agreed, not thinking it worthwhile to mention any number of extraordinarily undocumented persons in Guyana at the time, not least among them a number of Mexican aircraft assemblers and mechanics. 'After all, they are here, in Guyana, without visas.'
'Exactly,' Drake said. He said it so well that Gordon took a double take.
'Meh gyal, she teach meh. Speakin' o' dah, you kam dinner, boyo?' he asked of Babcock-Moore.
Before the sergeant could agree or Gordo could comment, McCaverty, better known as 'Cree,' sauntered up. 'We'll be assembled and ready to go by about nineteen hundred, tomorrow night.'
'Roger,' Gordo replied. 'You'll space out at half hour intervals. My sergeant will meet you on the road six miles east of the bridge over the Takutu river. He'll have a pod of fuel and will mark the landing zone with infrared chemlights. You'll refuel there and then continue on to base. You guys have any problem with a rough strip landing, at night?'
'None,' Cree assured. 'What about my Mexicans?'
Gordo pointed with his chin at the Porter that had brought in the three prisoners. 'They start leaving on that, just after you do. Most of them will beat you there. The rest go tomorrow.'
'They don't speak a lot of English,' Cree advised.
'No matter,' Gordon said. 'A lot of people at camp speak Spanish. Morales from the SEALs will be going with them, along with Antoniewicz, now that they're out of hospital. They'll be taken care of.'
'Fair enough.'
D-71, Assembly Area Alpha-Base Camp, Amazonia, Brazil
Phillie was a San Antonio girl, and part Mexican to boot. Of course she spoke Spanish. Lox spoke Spanish, too, along with Tagalog, German, French, Italian and a smidgeon of Arabic. Konstantin had sent down Sergeant Musin, who shared Russian with at least one of the Romanian girls, and English which was the organization's lingua franca. Nobody in the camp spoke Romanian. Still, they had reason to believe between all those languages that they'd be able to get their point across enough to teach the girls to serve as back up scut work medical personnel.
Thus, it was with more annoyance than pleasure that Phillie asked, 'You all speak English?'
'Some not so good,' the senior girl, Elena said. 'Some better. Mine'-she put her hand out, palm down, and rocked it- 'okay.'
'Then why the hell didn't you tell the men who rescued you?'
Embarrassed, Elena looked down at the tent's dirt floor. 'Not know they rescue,' she said. 'At first think they just capture to resell. Later on, when know they not like that, ashamed to admit . . . we . . . lie.'
Phillie shook her head. She was beginning to discover that the world was a much suckier place than she'd been led to believe. And it didn't seem to be getting any better. She chewed her lip for a while, then said, 'Sergeant Lox?'
'Ma'am?'
'I think you've got better things to do. You're dismissed.' Phillie was rather pleased that she'd said that approximately like Wes would have. 'Please stop by the aid station and ask Sergeant Coffee to come here.'
'Yes, ma'am. Do you need Tim?'
'No, I don't think so.'
Lox nodded and turned to leave, signaling with a head jerk that Tim was to follow.
Turning back to the girl, Elena, Phillie asked, 'What do you understand about our circumstances and yours?'
'You are military group,' Elena answered, without hesitation. It got harder then. She struggled, 'Private, not belong . . . not . . . ummm . . . owned . . . ' She shook her head; no, that wasn't quite right. 'Not controlled by national government.'
'That is correct,' Phillie agreed, but added, 'Also not protected by any national government. In light of that, what about you and the others?'
Again, Elena didn't hesitate a moment. 'We all talk and agree, once we understand . . . back on little boat. We owe you big. We help.'
'It could be very dangerous.'
'We help.'
'Then we've got ten weeks to turn you girls into competent medics and medical assistants. Let's go check with supply and see about your uniforms, boots, and other gear. There'll be a lot of it.'
'Good,' Elena said, looking down at the ratty, way oversized sailors' coveralls she wore. 'Got nothing else to wear. Got nothing we own.'
Yep, the world is a far suckier place, and not in a nice way, than I've been led to believe.
One of the Romanian girls said something in her own tongue. To Phillie it sounded hauntingly like Spanish . . . but was just enough off as not to be intelligible. Whatever the girl had said, Elena reached over and smacked her head.
'What was that for?' Phillie asked.
'Not all of us unwilling be sold as whores. She wanted know when we get to see men.'
Aha. Then before we hit supply, 'Sit down, girls. Let's have a little chat about the rules . . . and under what circumstances you can break them.' She looked around at the faces, pretty in general, slightly olive for the most part, much like herself, but, 'Wait a minute. How old are you?'
'I am . . . sixteen,' said Elena, the senior. 'We are all sixteen or seventeen except for Adriana, Irina, and Tatiana.' On the last name Elena once again struck the girl-apparently Tatiana-she'd slapped before. 'They is . . . umm . . . are fifteen.'
'Aha,' Phillie half smiled. 'Very different set of rules then. Very different. Rule Number One is NO. Rule Number Two is, in case of doubt, refer back to Rule Number One. Rule Number Three, on the other hand, says Rule Number One, NO, is continuously in force. Rule Number Four . . . '
***
Coffee heard Phillie's voice coming from inside the tent set aside for training the foreign girls, ' . . . is known as the ‘two girl' rule. That means that I better never find one of you alone. You will always be at least in pairs. This includes, most especially, going to the latrines, the toilets, in the middle of the night. Rule Number Six . . . '
Coffee smiled-quick study, our girl-and then coughed. 'Phillie, you sent for me?'
The girl called 'Tatiana' began turning her head very quickly to where the voice had come from. This movement ceased and her eyes returned to straight ahead in a flurry of Romanian and a loud crack.
Phillie ignored the slap. She said to the sergeant, 'Despite what we thought, these girls all speak English to some extent. I think that means we can get a lot more use out of them than planned. So I suggest that instead of me teaching them how to clean floors and instruments to standard, or to empty bedpans, you ought to be teaching them how to be real medics.'
'Makes sense,' Coffee agreed. 'Let me clear it with Doc Joseph.'
'Fine,' Phillie said. 'In the interim, girls, Rule Six is . . . '
D-70, Assembly Area Alpha, Base Camp, Amazonia, Brazil
'And that makes eight,' Waggoner said, as the last of the CH-801's touched down on the strip. 'Amazing damned things,' he muttered, as the plane came to a stop in what looked to be about twenty-five meters. 'Just amazing.'
