"I didn't do anything," Marta whispered to Fosa.
"You did enough," he answered. "Now shut up."
" . . . Cazador Barros, by that point incapacitated by wounds, from drowning . . . "
"But I . . . "
"Shut up," repeated Fosa. He glanced over at Jaquie and saw she was crying.
"Are you all right, Miss Gonzalez?" he asked.
She just nodded her head, sniffling.
* * *
Later, Fosa, Rodriguez and Chu sat with the two girls at a table in an isolated part of the mess deck. Fosa pulled two envelopes from his uniform jacket and placed one in front of each girl. Jaquie was still sniffling and paid no attention.
Marta took hers and opened it. Her eyes flew wide and she said, "This is a mistake. Our bonus for going on that boat was already paid and is in our accounts. This is . . . "
"It's a gift," Rodriguez said. "We took up a collection among my boys and Chu's. Quite a few of the others in the maniples, boats and ships chipped in, too. The skipper, here, matched half of what we raised from his discretionary funds."
"Besides," added Chu, "we know that Jaquelina wasn't able to work for the last few weeks. And that you lost time nursing her. Think of it, too, as recompense."
"But . . . "
"Shut up, Marta," Fosa said.
"Yes, sir."
"I made a call back home, to Carrera," Fosa continued. "He said he's got another yacht—this one purpose built—headed our way to replace the Suzy Q. He also agreed that I can form a permanent unit of women to serve as bait and to otherwise help out. It will have room for two corporals. You don't have to give us an answer right away, but if you two want in . . . "
11/8/467 AC, Isla Real
The Sarah Jay stood in the harbor, surrounded by her escorts. From time to time, an elevator arose onto the flight deck bearing a small chest full of gold. On deck, the container was met by a mixed group of FSN and legionary officers. These jointly opened the chests. The contents were then weighed and inventoried before the chests were resealed with legion-marked seals. The pile stayed under the watchful eyes of both sides as it was loaded aboard one of the Sarah's helicopters. Once loaded, one officer from each service boarded the chopper and accompanied it to a portion of the airstrip that was under guard so tight ants crept between them nervously and on tiptoes.
From the strip, a chest or two at a time, the gold was taken to an old Federated States Army coastal artillery bunker. It was the most secure thing available.
"Screw that," Carrera muttered, watching the gold being trundled off. "We need something a lot more secure." For this, and for the nukes, too.
"Sir?" Sergeant Major McNamara asked.
"It's just not enough, Top," he answered. "We need something like the Federated States Reserve Bank in First Landing."
"Dunno, sir," McNamara answered. "I t'ink wit' maybe t'ree or four divisions worth of troops we got plenty o' security as is."
"Not that many for much longer, Top. Maybe the equivalent of one left after we deploy."
"And t'at's anot'er t'ing," Mac scowled. "It ain't right, you taking off and leavin' me behind."
Carrera nodded, then sighed. "Tell me how many other people I can trust absolutely, Top. Parilla gone to politics. Kuralski back in Volga and he's going to link up with us just before we go into Pashtia. Kennison? Gone. Some of the rest of our original group gone and the rest in critical positions. Most of the first rate Balboans commanding cohorts, tercios and legions. Who have I got left I can trust absolutely, would you tell me that?"
"Miss Lourdes?" McNamara offered. "Oh . . . you meant people you can trust t'at can watch out for t'e Legion and Lourdes, didn't you? You one son of a bitch, you know t'at, boss?"
Carrera nodded. He didn't add, And this promises to be one miserable hard fight and I don't want to lose you, too, old timer. I've lost too much already.
McNamara sighed. "Well, t'en, if I can go to t'e fucking war at least I can kick some hiney to get t'e boys out on time."
And with that Mac turned away and began to stride toward what was called "the Green Ramp"—though it wasn't a ramp at all—where a maniple of troops from Third Cohort, Second Tercio was preparing to board an aircraft heading for Thermopolis, just south of Pashtia.
14/8/467 AC, Presidential Palace, Ciudad Balboa
The meeting was conducted in French as Janier still didn't deign to speak Spanish. In a way, it was comforting to President Rocaberti that the Gauls were so firmly arrogant. It boded well for the prospects of himself and his clan that the new masters he was trying to bring in would be likely to prove much more amenable, and give little more than lip service to concepts popular among the world's progressive circles.
The problem with the FSC, the President thought, is that they really believe their own propaganda. They not only believe it, they honestly expect people to fall in with their program. The Frogs are more practical. Indeed, while claiming to be in the forefront of cosmopolitan progressivism one can't help but note that they gave up their colonies in Uhuru only in name, and still retain control and economic dominance. Moreover, their servants, the presidents and prime ministers in those colonies, manage to do quite well, graft wise. There's no reason the Gauls won't continue that fine tradition here, once they're in charge.
Even the fact that Janier sat at the presidential desk didn't upset Rocaberti, though his nephew Arnulfo was plainly annoyed but it. It just went to prove that the Gauls could be counted on to rule.
Malcoeur conducted the briefing for the very small number of people allowed to attend. These consisted of the President, his nephew, one of his two Vice-Presidents, the ambassador from the TU, the ambassador from United Earth, the minister of police, and Janier and Malcoeur themselves.
"What the general has in mind," Malcoeur was saying, "is that we shall bring in election monitors from all over that part of the world sympathetic to our aims—our Uhuran colo . . . I mean, allies, the Tauran Union, United Earth, some of the more progressive-minded politicians and ex-politicians from the FSC, and perhaps a few of the more pliable non-governmental organizations as well."
Janier nodded and said, "I think we can count on these people to reject even the possibility that a party of militaristic fascist beasts could actually be elected, so they'll instinctively insist the election was tampered with, fixed. We can even arrange a few incidents to take place under the eyes of the monitors and the press, if necessary."
"That would be my department," said the minister of police.
"Even so," agreed Janier, casually stubbing out an awful-smelling cigarette. "It is extremely important that the Tauran Union appear neutral, if the rest of the plan is to work. Is it not possible, Mr. President, for your party to add to the turmoil?"
"Surely, mon General."