Torrio flopped up a hand. “What can I say? We’re small but mighty.”
“This ain’t a joke, Paulie,” Jack snapped. “The chief’s right. You put a crew your size on an island like this—with support from the Goka, no less—and you’re in real danger of outkickin’ your coverage. That’s how people get killed.”
The colonel heaved a sigh as his companion returned with a pair of pint glasses. “Wanna know what really fires me up about livin’ in Jacksonville, Ms. K’Nami?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure you’re about to tell us,” Stan muttered.
“Here’s a hint,” Torrio continued. “It ain’t the beach or the sunshine, or even the low taxes. It’s wakin’ up every single day knowin’ my only competition for peach jobs like yours comes from a city full of dumbass rednecks who think they know everything because they’re from the South and I’m not.” He elbowed his subordinate. “Mike, gimme the thing.”
The captain reached into his vest and produced a slate, which he handed to Torrio. The latter swiped the device active, then presented it to their host.
“As you can see, miss,” the captain said, “our outfit has secured a three-month subcontract with the Buffalo Bills to provide full transport to and from Emza, plus tactical support from two additional troop companies for deployment on the ground. That’s CASPers, ordnance, supplies. The whole nine yards.”
Kami swiped at the screen, perusing the data. “What happens if the threat to my clients hasn’t been neutralized after three months?”
“Then we’ll stay longer,” the captain said. “If you’ll swipe to page 13, you’ll see near the bottom where Colonel Torrio negotiated a ninety-day extension into our agreement with the Bills. This way, if we need to stick around, we’re free to do so, with full support via the contract rider.”
Taylor whistled. “My hat’s off to ya, Colonel. That’s one helluva pitch. Although I’d sure hate to see the interest rate on the loan you took out to pay for all that extra hardware.”
“Think whatever you want.” Torrio grunted. “Some of us didn’t have the luxury of landin’ a free pass to financial bliss from a washed-up old merc has-been to launch our business. Speakin’ of Ron Carnegie, I hope that backstabbin’ bastard is rottin’ in a gutter somewhere like the decrepit old turncoat he is. Serves him right for the way he walked out on his people.”
Kami swiped off the slate. “And you can verify all this?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the captain said. “We’ve got the Bills’ ship captain standing by on comms if you’d like him to stream down a manifest.”
“Forget the manifest. Let’s get to the kicker.” Torrio clasped his fingers. “Not only will the River Hawk Defense Group provide everything he just said and more—in two weeks—but we’re also prepared to do it for 18 million flat with no combat bonuses.”
Kami blinked. “You’re serious. No bonuses.”
“Not a one,” Torrio said. “Simply put, we’ll go where your clients want, when they want, however many times they want—no questions asked—until their problems with these hostiles are history.”
Kami gave a slow nod, then turned to Taylor. “Without combat bonuses, his proposal represents a potential swing of 20 million credits back to my clients’ account. They can’t not consider that. I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask the Eagles to counter-offer.”
Taylor glanced to his XO, who shook his head.
“Ha!” Torrio clapped his hands. “What do ya say, sweetheart? Should we make this official now and sign on the dotted line, or do you require some extra shmoozin’…say over a private dinner and drinks in my quarters? Because I’d do that for you.”
Kami’s earlier posture of professionalism morphed into one that said, touch me and you’ll be dead before you hit the floor. “Nothing is official until my clients make a formal selection on who to hire. You both make a strong case. Expect their decision by the end of the day.” With that, she fired down the last of her whiskey and rose to go. “Colonel, Chief, Husker. I’ll be in touch.”
The humans stayed behind, while the Sirra’Kan left for the exit.
“Well, I reckon that’s it, then,” Taylor said. “Regardless of how this shakes out, Colonel, I wish the best to you and your crew.”
“Go to hell, Van Zant,” Torrio said with a snarl as he got to his feet. “As far as I’m concerned, you and your entire inbred crew can take your sanctimonious platitudes and shove ‘em up your swamp-rat asses. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got shit to do.” He motioned to the captain. “Let’s go.”
The Eagles stayed seated in the booth as their human counterparts stormed out of the merc pit.
“What a waste,” Jack mumbled.
“It truly is,” Billy said. “Logistically speaking, Paul always did have a solid head for numbers. If he could’ve just found a way to keep his mouth in check, he might’ve made a decent addition to the Eagles.”
“I’m pretty sure my partner was referrin’ to the beers.” Stan pointed to the pair of half-full pint glasses that’d been left on the table. “For the record, I’m inclined to agree. Paulie was assigned to our unit after the Eagles took over Steeldriver. Did he show some potential? Sure. He was a bona fide loose cannon, a fact borne out by his own personnel file, courtesy of Steeldriver’s former HR director.” The Mississippian took a pull of his drink. “Me personally, I’m glad that Yankee prick took his attitude and his Aqua Velva ass on down the trail. We’re better off without him.”
Taylor sipped his beer and considered what might’ve been for the River Hawk’s commander as
