“Yes, sir.”
“That’s lip service, mister.” Remington stood toe-to-toe with Goose, glaring down at him.
Goose knew anger was the most volatile emotion Remington had. In every other department—love, fear, curiosity—he seemed cool, almost dispassionate. Remington and Bill had never gotten along, and Goose had often had to argue on Bill’s behalf to keep him with the 75th.
“Who assigned those chaplains to be there with Baker?” Remington asked.
“I did, sir.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it would speed up the process, sir.”
“How about ending the process, Sergeant? Did that cross your mind?”
“Yes, sir, it did. However, that seemed to be an unattainable objective, sir.”
“First Sergeant,” Remington growled, “that’s the last thing I want to hear from the man I put in command of my troops.”
“Yes, sir.”
Remington glared out at the stream. “Those men are slowing down my operation.”
“No, sir,” Goose said immediately.
Remington turned on him in an instant, shoving his face within inches of Goose’s. “What?”
Goose met Remington’s gaze full measure. For a moment, just the barest hint of a moment that didn’t last long enough to cross the line between non-com and officer, they were just two men again.
“The operation has not been slowed, sir,” Goose said. “If the captain will check the ops parameters on the mission he has assigned, he’ll find that the 75th—despite the loss of manpower and materials—is forty minutes ahead of schedule. The rifle companies are going to be ready to bed down before sunset, sir, instead of working into the night as we had predicted. We will be able to cover the no-man’s-land much more effectively.”
Remington cursed and drew back. “Those men need to be removed from that stream, Sergeant.”
Before Goose could reply, before he could even figure out what he was going to say, Captain Mkchian spoke up.
“Captain Remington, if I may interject.”
“You may not,” Remington said, turning on the Turkish captain. Immediately, the men with Mkchian spread out around their commanding officer. Mkchian appeared to take no offense.
“This is a United States Army matter,” Remington snarled.
“And this is Turkish soil,” Mkchian stated in a calm, even voice that carried naked steel in each word. “You and your men are here at the invitation of my country, because your president believes he has a vested interest in the outcome of things that happen here. I represent the government that invited you here, and as their representative, I’ll suffer no disrespect. Is that clear?”
Remington glared at the man. “What do you want?”
“I want this operation to continue, Captain Remington, until it is done. For as long as it takes. You have not seen the effect this is having on the men. Tonight they are going to have to fight for their lives. I would rather they went into that fight believing they could win, or at the very least, survive.”
“Getting dipped in holy water and having the name of God spoken over you isn’t going to save your hide,” Remington said.
Mkchian smiled coldly. “Perhaps their hides aren’t what these men are worried about. These men aren’t fools. I have talked with many of them. They believe God has called them to this place and to those men in the water.”
“Don’t give me the God mumbo jumbo. Maybe dipping Achilles in the River Styx made him invincible, but it’s not going to do that for those men.”
“I don’t think they expect that. But I have noticed that many of the men come away from that stream a little braver, a little more clearheaded.”
“It’s water!” Remington growled.
“It’s belief,” Mkchian said.
“I’m not going to allow this to happen,” Remington said.
“And I’m not going to allow you to stop it.” Mkchian held his ground.
Remington turned on the captain. “You can’t stop me from taking my men.”
The Rangers behind Remington, all of them handpicked and all of them discipline problems for everyone but the Ranger captain, flared out, both hands on their weapons.
Unexpectedly, Mkchian clapped his hands and said, “Bravo. Now wouldn’t this be a fine finale to the United States Army Ranger involvement in Turkey? My government reluctantly brings you in, and you end up in a Wild West gunfight with the very army you’re supposed to be helping. Out of purely humanitarian reasons, of course, as your President Fitzhugh claims.”
“No one stands between my men and me,” Remington growled. “Of course not, Captain.” Mkchian waved generously toward the stream. “Take your men. By all means. But are you prepared to arrest all of those men you will incite to riot?”
Goose breathed shallowly, stunned by the events taking shape. He’d never seen Remington more on edge.
“And they will riot, Captain,” Mkchian said in a softer voice. “Those men are trapped here, and they need something to believe in. Something more than merely military rank and file. A lot of them are dead, but a lot more of them disappeared today without explanation.” The Turkish captain raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re prepared to explain that to them?”
Remington didn’t answer.
“I didn’t think so.” Mkchian looked at Goose. “I came here prepared to stop your sergeant, because I fully expected him to try to put an end to these baptisms. He would have tried, despite what you think. He’s a good man. I’m glad I caught you at the same time so I don’t have to order you restrained.”
“If you had done that—”
“I would have,” Mkchian said. “You have my promise on that. These men will have their peace, Captain Remington. It is within my power to give them that, and I will.” He paused. “Furthermore, if you decide to follow through on this course of action, I will seek out Danielle Vinchenzo, the OneWorld NewsNet reporter that you have sponsored in this area, and tell her exactly what you have done.”
A nerve twitched on Remington’s jaw. His eyes looked like cold glass as he gave a small, imperceptible nod. “Fine, Captain Mkchian. We’ll let you have your little praise party. But I want it over soon.”
“As
