“Wouldn’t you like to lie down and take a nap before meeting with them, Principessa?” he said, furiously scratching his bushy, white beard. “You might need to be well rested so you can negotiate. Don’t let them bully you. Make your demands and stick with them.”
“I won’t be able to sleep until it’s done,” she said.
She leaned back in her chair and tucked her hands behind her head. She was tired, but she’d slept enough and there was too much to do. At least, that was her thinking. Her body had other ideas.
Suddenly, she found herself waking up to the sound of heavy footfalls on the veranda steps, and she opened her eyes to discover that her cheek was resting in the crook of her arm on the tabletop. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and realized her father was no longer on the other side of the table. He’d apparently left her to sleep. She had an imprint of the table’s metal design on her forehead. She felt it as she rubbed her eyes.
Two men approached. One of them, a broad-shouldered young man with short, very blond hair she recognized. He was in his field uniform, but he was also wearing a pair of workman’s gloves. The other man was much shorter, with a round, clean-shaven face. He wore a similar uniform, but she noted the shiny silver bars on the collar of his shirt. He had a manila folder tucked under his right arm, and he tossed it onto the table as he pulled back a chair.
“Ma’am, I’m Captain Foster,” he said, grabbing the brim of his cap as he sat down. “Sorry it took so long. There’s a bigger mess down there than we anticipated.”
Prig made eye contact with her and gave her a big smile. Was it supposed to convey good news, or was he just reminiscing about all of the hellish things they’d gone through together? Elna didn’t know, but she couldn’t quite return the smile in kind.
“Sorry, Captain, you caught me napping,” Elna said, brushing her hair back over her shoulders. “How can I help you?”
“I don’t blame you for catching a few Z’s while you can,” the captain replied. “I understand the staff sergeant here drew up a contract with you about ownership of the island.” He tapped his gloved hand on the manila folder. “Now, to be clear, he didn’t really have the authority to do that. However, I’ve been authorized to inform you that we’re going to honor the terms of the agreement anyway. You and your people can remain on the island as long as you own the vineyard. This will continue to be your home. We’re not pushing you out, though we do have right of refusal if you ever decide to sell.”
Elna felt such elation she couldn’t respond at first. She took a moment to gather herself, then said, “That’s great news. I don’t see us ever selling this place.”
“Very good. We will limit most of our activity to the area around the bunker on the southwest corner of the island,” the captain continued, “but that doesn’t mean we won’t bump into each other. We have a lot of work to do around the island to secure this place. That means we’ll have to coexist. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Elna replied, “and better than the alternative.”
“Great. The war isn’t over, and the nation is recovering but still in a precarious position.” He pushed the folder toward her. “All the paperwork you need to prove ownership of the vineyard is in here. You can take a look when you get chance.”
She flipped open the folder and saw a thick stack of documents. So much small print. The crude contract she’d drawn up with Prig before their mission to the militia camp was tucked into the back.
“By the way, Captain, what will become of the militia camp across the bay?” she said.
“The entire camp has already been cleared out,” the captain replied. “Civilians were evacuated to a shelter. We’ll find new homes for all of them. The guards have been arrested, and they’ll each be processed and dealt with. We’ve been informed that the camp leader was killed, so there’s no danger of someone trying to re-form the militia. It’s done.”
Elna heaved a huge sigh of relief that went through her whole body. “Thanks, Captain. You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
He rose from the table and gave her a strange little bow. “No, thank you, ma’am. For everything. I know you were just trying to protect your people, but you also did your country a huge service by helping us. We’ll never forget it.”
And with that, he walked away. Prig gave her a big smile and a salute before following.
“See you around, soldier,” he said.
They shared a meal together on the factory floor of the winery, the big vats serving as a backdrop. A few folding tables had been brought together, and they’d combined the food from a number of MREs to create a crude, but still delicious, buffet. Raymond, Daniel, Chloe, and Miriam were all sitting together, chatting and occasionally laughing, as Chloe fed scraps to Sniffy.
Elna was making rounds refilling water cups, and she stopped in front of Miriam. She had no ill feelings toward the woman about revealing the location of the bunker. She’d done what was necessary to protect her child, and it had ended with the death of the mercenaries anyway.
As Elna refilled Miriam’s cup, she asked, “How are you guys doing?”
“We’re fine,” Raymond replied. “You know, Elna, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” she replied.
Raymond and Miriam traded a look. “Well…it’s just that…Danny is feeling so much better, and we’ve all been getting to know each other.” He pointed at himself, at Miriam and Chloe. “It turns out, Miriam has family in Redding, and the city is safe now, according to the Marines. They’ve offered to accompany us there
