“My immortal what?”
Dwyer raised his right hand and began to speak in Latin, of which language the commandant understood perhaps one word in five, though nine in ten were close cognates of his native Spanish. One phrase he had no trouble understanding, especially when set against the fury on the priest’s face, was excommunicatio in sacris. The priest was merely threatening, not actually excommunicating. Yet, so it has been said, a request to take out the garbage sounds like an Imperial Rescript in Latin.
“Wai-wai-wait!” exclaimed the commandant, holding up his hands, palms out, against the perceived threat. “I’ll get the woman medical care, Padre. I had no idea there was anything wrong with her. I had no idea she was even here. Women are supposed to go the Carcel Feminino, not here. My men and I were forbidden entrance and, until you walked in, I simply didn’t dare enter. My family were under threat.”
The priest stopped speaking in Latin and lowered his hand.
“You will get this woman medical care.” It was not a request.
“I will, Padre, be sure of it.” The commandant turned to an aide and ordered, “Get the camp surgeon. Immediately.”
Dwyer weighed carefully the odds of success of trying to browbeat the commandant into releasing some or all of the prisoners to his care on the spot. Ultimately, he decided against, primarily because there was probably a point beyond which the commandant could not be pushed. The Jesuit’s experience with Latins was that given a choice between saving their souls and saving their family… well, hasta la vista, mi alma. Farewell, my soul.
And besides, it didn’t look like the commandant even had control over the building guards, wrong uniforms, for one thing.
“Very well, my son. See to the woman. It will be well.”
“You’ve seen them, Father?” Daisy’s avatar asked breathlessly. Sally was in easy range. Her avatar stood in Dwyer’s office, just slightly behind Daisy’s. Dwyer had removed the ornate vestments back at the Papal Nunciate and reverted to simple navy chaplain’s garb.
“They’re both fine. For now. The commandant of the prison told me, though, that they’re supposed to be extradited to Europe in the next few days. He thought it would be sooner but for the fact that it is difficult and dangerous to bring an airplane into Tocumen Airport. Howard is just as dangerous.”
“So how are they planning on moving them?” Sally asked.
“The commandant didn’t know” Dwyer answered in a mild Irish brogue. “That said, my dears, since airplanes are right out, might I suggest either ship or submarine, or maybe space ship?”
Daisy’s voice was firm. “Not by ship. The Navy would stop any attempt to take our people out by surface. And since the Euro’s haven’t helped us here a jot, one of their ships suddenly showing up would be suspicious. So would a merchie full of armed guards. Besides, though a merchie’s gestalt is very faint there’s still a good chance we could read if they were holding our people. Maybe they’ll try by submarine.”
Sally’s eyes blinked rapidly for a short moment. “I just passed the word to the Jimmy Carter and the Benjamin Franklin to be on the look out for submarines. They’d be French, if anything, wouldn’t they, Father?”
Dwyer considered for a moment, then said, “The Frogs are the only ones with the range and the sheer chutzpah, both, I think, Sally. But, despite the EU being implicated in this, I don’t think the French would go quite so far. Besides, they have good reason to be afraid of our subs.”
“Spaceship, then,” Sally summarized.
“A Himmit spaceship,” Daisy corrected.
“We can’t track Himmit spaceships,” Sally said sullenly.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Dwyer finished.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Suarez said, gloomily contemplating the idle combat engineers scattered in groups along the fortified line. Others were working, digging trench, building bunkers, and stringing barbed wire. The minelayers, however, were just sitting around with their collective thumbs up their butts.
“I’m sorry, Coronel.” Suarez was still a colonel despite having taken over the rump of the 1st Mechanized Division, a rump he, as much as anyone, had saved. There were rumors, rumors that had the remaining third of the division sharpening bayonets somberly, that Cortez was alive and might be placed back in command.
That Cortez was alive, Suarez knew to be a fact. That he might be placed back in command of the division that he had abandoned? Suarez would shoot the bastard first.
His Logistics Officer, or S-4, a good infantry major who had made it out of the inferno and been stuck with the job against his will and wishes, continued, “I’m sorry, sir, but the mine factory has been closed down. And I heard a rumor.”
“Yes?”
“It seems General Boyd has been arrested for running it,” the “Four” said. “Sir, if he’s been arrested for that, how long before we are arrested for moving them, in my case, or ordering them emplaced, in yours?”
As the major asked the question, a very youngish and worried-looking captain — Suarez knew he was a rejuv like himself — came up and saluted.
“Sir, Captain Hector Miranda requests permission to speak to the regimental, er, division commander.”
Suarez returned the salute, informally. “Yes, what is it, Captain? Stand at ease.”
Hector relaxed, partially. “Sir, it’s my mother. She’s disappeared. You’ve met her, sir. Señora Digna Miranda, back at the hospital after rejuvenation.”
“Yes, Captain, I remember. Little bitty woman, right? Red hair?”
“Yes, sir, that’s her. Well, my daughter sent me a message. My mother went off with some civilian and someone that I suspect is General Cortez a couple of days ago and she hasn’t returned. She hasn’t sent word. She’s just disappeared. Sir, it isn’t like her. I’m worried.”
“Wasn’t she the same woman who led ten or fifteen thousand refugees out of Chiriqui? The one the president decorated and promoted.”
“Same one, sir. My mom’s one tough bitch.”
Suarez mused, Interesting. One hero of the Republic disappears. Another man, as responsible as anyone for us not being totally destroyed in that bound-to-fail attack to the west, is arrested. I wonder who else…
Julio Diaz knocked on the door to Dwyer’s office then entered. He saw two avatars and the chaplain.
Breathlessly, he said, “The XO sent me to find you, Padre. My father has been arrested. Mother has no idea why. She is frantic. It usually means something very bad in this country when a prominent citizen is taken into custody.”
Mentally, Dwyer tallied up the people he had seen at La Joya, then added General Diaz to the list.
“Right,” he announced. “This isn’t just a series of arrests for ‘war crimes.’ This is a deliberate effort to sabotage the defense of Panama and the Canal. Oh… and since the United States needs the Canal and the world needs the United States, I’d have to surmise that it’s intended as an attack on all of Earth. But why?”
“It’s the Darhel,” Sally said.
Daisy nodded vigorously. “They attacked Sally and myself. They nearly took Sally out of the fight permanently. I mean, Father, it has to be them. Even the Posleen just don’t operate that way.”