As it turned out everyone made it by the timeline and McKenzie nodded in satisfaction.
“Now, on each bed, if you lads haven’t fucked off with it, is a sealed paper envelope, you will open the envelope and place all the items on your bed, carefully.”
In the envelope were two lengths of 550 parachute cord, a short length and a long one, dogtags, rubber dogtag mufflers and ID card. The latter was a heavy plastic card slightly smaller and thicker than a credit card with their picture, name and vital statistics on it.
“Right, this is the ticklish bit,” McKenzie said. “First of all, everyone ensure that it is their picture and name on the ID card. If you’re not sure, ask the lad next to you if that’s your face. Remove the thin cords from the long section of 550 cord, then slip the longer chain into the sleeve thus created.”
He led them though the process of setting up their dogtags, with the ID card hanging on the chain as well.
“The ID card is the Kildar’s innovation,” McKenzie said, glancing over at Mike. “Besides the writing on it, it has a microchip inside to hold other information. As if anyone is going to be going around with a microchip reader.”
“The medics will be issued one,” Mike said, calmly. “As will a doctor if we ever have one assigned permanently. And the hospital in Tbilisi is going to get one as well. Having medical background info will be useful. Better than carrying around a bloody file.”
“We will now, carefully and precisely, transfer the material from your duffel to your bloody footlocker,” McKenzie boomed. “And you will do it by the numbers or I will have your ass. After that you will be taught to properly make a bed and square this ratty ass barracks away to my satisfaction.”
Mike spot checked on the teams for the rest of the day, watching them get settled in. The instructors were firm but not particularly hard; that would come later. At the moment the Keldara were just getting used to their lives being regimented and instructed in very basic living standards. The Keldara took baths from time to time, mostly in the streams, but they had never had access to running water, or light switches for that matter, so every little item had to be explained. Mike and Nielson had, they thought, carefully thought out the introductory period, but it turned out there were various small problems that cropped up. Some of them the instructors handled, but a few Mike had to consult on. He also passed information from one team to the others as the problems cropped up and were dealt with.
The Keldara were fascinated by everything. Mike had had a washer and dryer installed in each of the barracks with power from heavy generators set up near the gravel pit. The fact that they could be used for washing clothes was a novel innovation to the Keldara. Light from light bulbs they’d seen in town, but had rarely had the opportunity to turn on and off. Mike found one of the instructors nearly apoplectic at a young recruit who had been turning the lights in the bathroom on and off just for the fun of it.
The training in equipment and barracks maintenance continued into the night but Mike had been firm. Until they got into full-scale training the recruits were to bed down at a normal time. By ten-thirty everything but a fire-guard light was off in each of the barracks and the trainers were back up at the caravanserai by eleven.
“Looks okay so far,” Mike said as the trainers gathered in the livingroom for a late-night beer.
“Looks good,” McKenzie said to nods from the other trainers. “Not many who are completely brain-dead, none really. A bit confused but they’ll get past that.”
“And they all think we’re nice fellows,” Vanner said in a mock brogue.
“Big party this weekend,” Mike pointed out. “Everybody ensure they have a good time.”
“So when do you start training your draftees?” Killjoy asked, grinning.
“Oh, I think Monday will do,” Mike replied. “And on that note, I’m going to get to bed. See you bright and early tomorrow.”
When Mike got to his room, Anastasia was already there.
“Do you mind if I sleep here, tonight, Kildar?” the girl asked. She was dressed in a nightgown and robe and sitting on a chair.
“Not at all,” Mike said. “But I think I need to actually get some sleep tonight. Would a quickie be okay?”
“Whatever the Kildar desires,” the girl said, standing up and slipping quickly out of the robe and nightdress.
“Whatever?” Mike asked, smiling. “I don’t have the bondage dungeon set up yet.”
“There is always the belt,” Anastasia said, smiling in return.
“First call, bucko,” Adams said, banging on Mike’s door.
“Go away,” Mike muttered, pulling the pillows over his head.
“Actually, it’s breakfast call,” Adams said, opening the door. “It’s damned near nine, buddy.”
“Christ,” Mike snapped, rolling over and looking at the clock. Sure enough, it was eight-forty. “I forgot to set the alarm.”
“You needed the extra sleep,” Adams said, grabbing a pair of shorts off a chair and tossing them at him. “But it’s range day; I know you don’t want to miss that.”
“Was that a whip I heard last night?” Adams asked as Mike sat down at the kitchen table. The breakfast on the main dining table had already been cleared.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell, buddy,” Mike said, chuckling. “And, no, it was a belt. Consensual I might add.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell is right,” Adams said, shaking his head.
“For that matter, in the breaks I seem to remember a memory of another bed moving somewhere nearby. And since you’re the nearest room…”
“You should have named Bambi, Thumper,” Adams said, shrugging. “Boy does she ever. But you’re looking better; I take it you actually got some sleep last night.”
“Some,” Mike said, sipping his coffee and digging into breakfast. “Mother Griffina, you are a treasure.”
“You are too easy to please, Kildar,” the woman replied. “And it appears I must keep your strength up.”
“Not you, too?” Mike said, shaking his head. “Is my love life common knowledge in the whole house?”
“The whole valley is more like it,” Adams said, grinning.
“It’s like living in a fishbowl,” Mike grumped. “I think we’re going to miss first issue.”
“It’s under control,” the chief replied as Vanner came in the kitchen.
“Sorry, Kildar,” the sergeant said, waving a coffee cup. “Just getting the morning brew.”
“Make yourself at home, Vanner,” Mike said. “Good job getting the commo set up so fast. How are the Keldara women taking to it?”
“I picked out a half dozen who could read and write pretty well,” the commo specialist said, filling his cup. “They’re smart. I’d figured it would be the regular red-neck story you get in most of these tribes, but not with the Keldara. They’re smart as a whip. Good looking, too.”
“You’re keeping more than one around at all times, right?” Mike said. “Where is the commo shack, anyway?”
“First-level cellars,” Adams said. “West side.”
“How in the hell did you rig it from there?” Mike asked. “And when?”
“You’ve been busy,” Adams said, shrugging. “We took a look and that looked to be one of the more secure areas. It’s down the hall from the armory and there’s a room across from it that would make a good spot to put a duty team. Anybody coming in the caravanserai has to fight through to the back cellars and then down. The cables are run through the walls on the next level up, then trenched to the hill. From there it’s armored cable up to the antenna farm. We’re going to put in redundant antennas on the caravanserai itself and one of the other peaks.”