And that might well have been the truth, but all that Miska knew was what Gumbhir was actually capable of. After leaving a trail of mutilated and often partially-eaten bodies all over Sub-Saharan Africa, he had been caught red-handed, the blood of a Nairobi judge’s family still smeared all over his face. He had killed seven of the police officers who had tried to arrest him. More to the point, the Leopard Society had almost succeeded. They had almost convinced the Kenyan authorities to leave them to operate with impunity.
‘What do you want?’ Miska asked. She had discovered that prisoners loved to talk as a result of having so much time on their hands. She was watching as a Pegasus assault shuttle, escorted by four Machimoi combat exoskeletons flying in diamond formation, came in to land on the other side of the parade ground.
‘A commission.’
It seemed to be a popular request today.
‘You want a squad?’ she asked, considering making him the same offer she had made Corenbloom.
‘I assume that you’re aware that I am more than capable of looking after myself. I have nothing to prove. I will also assume that you are aware that my talents lie in the strategic rather than tactical.’
Miska knew he was right. He was more experienced than she was at running combat operations, albeit a particular type of combat operation, but she had to balance that with just how much power she could risk turning over to this extremely dangerous individual.
‘Where?’ she asked. She suspected he would be best off running combat operations. What he didn’t know about warfare he was more than capable of learning, probably more so than she was herself. She wasn’t, however, going to turn over command of live troops in the field to someone who hadn’t commanded them in that field. She just couldn’t, Marine Corps doctrine was too ingrained in her thinking.
‘Vido Cofino is stretched working as your executive officer and the Legion intelligence officer. Let me take some of the latter responsibilities off his shoulders.’
Intelligence, again. Miska was thinking back to her earlier conversation with Corenbloom.
‘And what do I get?’ Miska asked.
‘I will speak with Bobo, that is all I can do …’
‘Oh bullshit!’ Miska snapped. ‘You’re a smart guy but don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.’ She let some of her actual anger leak through. ‘I know who pulls the strings.’ She saw the muscles around Golda’s mouth tighten.
‘Very well. Bobo will join your atrocity squad.’
‘And?’ Miska demanded. Golda watched her through the dark lenses of his sunglasses for a few moments.
‘Members of both the societies that I have a degree of influence in are free to volunteer for active duty, if they wish. I suspect many of the Leopards won’t, though some have skills that could be put to use in a support capacity. I suspect many of the Crocodiles will.’
‘I appreciate you talking so openly about it,’ Miska told him. He just nodded. He took his sunglasses off. His eyes were a deep green colour, like the sea.
‘What do you think you’re doing here?’ he asked. There was no challenge in his voice, only curiosity.
Miska frowned. ‘Building a mercenary force.’
‘If you were smart you would realise that you have a perfect opportunity to create a force that is a perfect synergy between a military and criminal organisation. You may as well realise this now, because I assure you Vido Cofino and his associates have.’
Miska wasn’t quite sure what to make of his words.
‘If the Legion is being subverted then I would know about it,’ Miska told him.
‘I don’t mean subversion. I mean sometimes you need a military solution and other times …’
That she could understand. On more than one occasion they had relied on individual legionnaires’ criminal skills rather than their military ones. Golda appeared to be stating the obvious. Miska frowned again.
‘You have a problem with Major Cofino?’ she asked. She only just stopped herself from calling him Uncle V.
‘I have a great deal of respect for Vido Cofino, and I look forward to working with him more closely.’
For the second time that day Miska couldn’t shake the feeling that jaws of a trap had just closed around her. The jaws of a leopard.
Miska found Vido in one of the rec rooms in the CP. He was bullshitting with some of his fellow wiseguys. Mafia old boys, mostly caporegime, or street bosses, and soldatos. They were of an age with Vido, or older, making them too old for active service. Miska and her father had to be a little careful putting them to work. They were trying to limit Vido’s empire building, but they also didn’t want to insult the old boys. Everything was a balancing act and they hadn’t found anything appropriate for them to do just yet. They were up on their feet and saluting as Miska walked into the room. Somehow they made their salutes seem like old country, gentlemanly courtesy. She had them stand at ease and exchanged a few words before dismissing them. Everything was friendly, everything pleasant. She had no doubt that any one of them would have killed her in a heartbeat given the opportunity.
‘Hey Vido,’ Miska said by way of greeting. The programming on the training construct was so good that he even looked tired here.
‘Hey boss. How’d it go?’ he asked meaning the meeting with Golda. Miska sent a message to her dad.
‘Pretty much as you said,’ Miska told him.
‘He held out for influence?’ Vido asked.
‘Just like you,’ Miska pointed out.
‘Makes you wonder why the Yakuza are being so quiet,’ he said.
Why’d he say that? Miska’s paranoia asked. Is he trying to introduce a seed of doubt here? Teramoto’s death on Barney Prime had been something of a blow for
