A Desert Called Peace Part 9

Heart began thumping and stomach churning with the excitement of the possibilities. With his left hand he reached over and poured his drink onto the ground outside the porch. Then he walked into the house, hugged his mother-in-law, shook his father-in-law's hand and left.

"I need to do something at the house," he announced as he walked out the door.

Hennessey Residence, Cochea, 2/8/459 AC The sound of Jinfeng Jinfeng squawking miserably at Linda's statue came through the window. Hennessey heard it only dimly. squawking miserably at Linda's statue came through the window. Hennessey heard it only dimly.

Instead, there was music, Old Earth music, playing in the background.

"I see a red door and I want it painted black..."

At the casa casa's front door, Hennessey met Parilla and shook his hand warmly before leading him to his library. Parilla had an electronic slate tucked under one arm.

Hennessey began, "It was good of you, sir..."

"Please, Patricio; 'Raul'."

"Raul. I thought since this was a formal mission...oh, never mind. "Raul." It was good of you to return to see me. I think, maybe, I can help you now." Yes, I can help you....and I can help me...now. Yes, I can help you....and I can help me...now.

Parilla positively beamed. "Ah! Wonderful. How?"

Hennessey had already thought about it enough. He had spent days thinking about it. "I will collect a small staff, house them somewhere out of the way, and put them to work on some of the things I mentioned before. While I am doing that, you need to be setting up the government to knuckle under for rearmament. You can do this?"

Parilla thought about it for a moment. "I can do some some of it." of it."

"Well...that's a start. Perhaps some propaganda can do the rest. In any case, soon the Federated States will need an ally; an ally that doesn't blanch when the body bags start coming home. If a way can be found to hasten that day, so much the better."

Parilla pointed a finger at Hennessey. "Could you do that kind of preparation for rebuilding a Balboa Defense Corps that really mattered outside of Balboa? Really?"

Hennessey didn't hesitate at all. "Yes. Really. Only...let's not call it the BDC. Too politically correct for my tastes. Also too much of an image marred by defeat. As a matter of fact, I think we should partially detach the force from Balboa. Your government is very sensitive to world opinion and very fond of the Tauran Union, the World League, and the UEPF."

"La Armada," Parilla suggested.

"Maybe that. But maybe not, either. The people who legislated away the name while leaving a shadow of the reality are plainly people more interested in image than facts. Call it an army openly and they'll be more likely to resist."

Parilla pushed Hennessey's objections aside for the time being. "Patricio tell me, what would you do specifically? Wait. Let me fire up my slate to write with."

"No," Hennessey said. "If it's electronic it can be tapped. At this point let's stick to old fashioned."

Terra Nova's levels of technology were approximately those of very early 21st Century Earth. Like that place and that time, too, the levels were very unevenly distributed across the planet. Uhuru, outside of the Republic of Northern Uhuru, for example, was little advanced in some places above the neolithic level. Century Earth. Like that place and that time, too, the levels were very unevenly distributed across the planet. Uhuru, outside of the Republic of Northern Uhuru, for example, was little advanced in some places above the neolithic level.

Even in those areas the Federated States and Secordia, Yamato, the Tauran Union which enjoyed the highest levels of technology available, there were some differences from the world of Man's birth in its twenty-first century after the birth of Christ.

Terra Nova had no truly and completely peaceful use of s.p.a.ce. The Global Locating System put up by the Federated States had some peaceful uses uses, true, and it had been permitted by the UEPF because of those presumptive peaceful uses. But it was there, the Feds had paid for it, for its use in war. As much could be said for the communications satellites that circled the planet.

The major use of s.p.a.ce, however, was manifest in the extensive system of systems set up by the Federated States of Columbia to engage and destroy the UEPF if the latter ever again had the temerity to try to dictate terms to the former. And that sat unused but threatening.

Medical technology was somewhat less, in particular with regards to epidemiology and infectious diseases, generally. They had their diseases there, of course, but most of those Man had brought with him to the new world he already had considerable resistance to. The planet itself had none of importance.

Given its sad history of war and ma.s.sacre, however, the planet's medicos were quite capable of dealing with trauma.

Militarily, the planet was on a rough par with 21st century Old Earth, as well, much to the delight of medical interns who wanted the practice. century Old Earth, as well, much to the delight of medical interns who wanted the practice.

In electronics Terra Nova was perhaps a bit further behind, being at the level of Old Earth just before the close of its 20th Century. For example, small personal computers were common, but somewhat slower, larger and heavier than might have been expected based on the level of military technology. Personal computers and mobile communication devices cell phones small enough to surgically insert were still the stuff of dreams and fantasies there. Century. For example, small personal computers were common, but somewhat slower, larger and heavier than might have been expected based on the level of military technology. Personal computers and mobile communication devices cell phones small enough to surgically insert were still the stuff of dreams and fantasies there.

One area where Terra Nova was far ahead of where one might have expected was in hacking. This, perhaps driven by the endemic warfare, was very advanced. Indeed, it was so advanced that no one was safe, ever. It was so advanced that the Globalnet, the equivalent of Old Earth's Internet, was far less well developed. Hacking on Terra Nova could be said to have r.e.t.a.r.ded every other aspect of information technology.

It was suspected, in some circles, that the UEPF was responsible for much of the hacking.

Hennessey swiveled in his office chair and took from the top of his cluttered desk a pen and notebook which he handed to Parilla. The older man considered this, considered the subject matter, considered the effects of what they were about to discuss on those who might object, and decided that using his electronic slate might be a bad idea after all. He took the pen and notebook.

Moments later, notebook in hand, a beaming Parilla prepared to take down Hennessey's thoughts.

Hennessey pulled a pack of cigarettes from a breast pocket. He took one paper tube out and stroked a match to light it. With smoke curling about his head in an infernal halo, he began, "I have friends who were once good soldiers in the Federated States Army...some other armies, too, but who despite being good soldiers very good, actually never made any great success of things. In some cases this was precisely precisely because they were superior soldiers. They have left the service early or have retired. I would hire some of them to come here to do the staff work." because they were superior soldiers. They have left the service early or have retired. I would hire some of them to come here to do the staff work."

Half turning his head away, Parilla focused one eye on Hennessey. "Could you trust them to be discreet?"

"They are my friends. Yes, I would trust them." The one's The one's I I will pick? Oh, yes. will pick? Oh, yes.

Parilla asked, "How much would this cost?"

Hennessey didn't need quick calculations. Those Those were long since made. "For the first year a fair figure might be about one point eight million FSD" Federated States Drachma, also legal tender in Balboa and much of the rest of the planet "not more than two point two million; plus perhaps a lump sum of about four million to start up. The annual figure could go as high as three million or even four but I really don't think it will cost that much, not before we start to recruit and expand." were long since made. "For the first year a fair figure might be about one point eight million FSD" Federated States Drachma, also legal tender in Balboa and much of the rest of the planet "not more than two point two million; plus perhaps a lump sum of about four million to start up. The annual figure could go as high as three million or even four but I really don't think it will cost that much, not before we start to recruit and expand."

Parilla took a deep breath before telling Hennessey, "Patricio, I would like you to take charge of this project, to make all possible preparations for Balboa to have its own armed force again, in truth as well as in name. Will you do it?"

"I'm sure I can't afford the whole thing on my own. My uncle's estate is tied up for now. I have an income, and it's comfortable, but it wouldn't pay for anything like this, not even with the insurance from my family." But what But what I I have, this project has. have, this project has.

Parilla answered, "You won't have to. I never thought you should." He shrugged his shoulders and looked heavenward in mock shame. "We do have certain sources of funds...not always aboveboard but also not often traceable." Parilla's hands spread in helplessness at the wickedness of mankind. "Pina wasn't, sad to say, the only ruler of the country ever to have a foreign bank account. I can have a reasonable down payment on the start up amount say, FSD 450,000 tomorrow. The rest will take a couple of weeks. As for greater amounts for actually recreating a force? Well, Pina took two hundred and seventy-five million a year in unofficial taxes from the Cristobal Free Trade Zone. Most went to line his pockets; his and his cronies. But we could raise probably four hundred million per year now without hurting trade overmuch. And we are not that that poor a country. Our gross domestic product runs nearly twelve billion. A couple of hundred million more could be squeezed out of government revenues. That's not small change. That all a.s.sumes, of course, that the government can be made to see reason." poor a country. Our gross domestic product runs nearly twelve billion. A couple of hundred million more could be squeezed out of government revenues. That's not small change. That all a.s.sumes, of course, that the government can be made to see reason."

Even while thinking, I don't want the government to pay for it. I don't want the government to pay for it. I I want to pay for it, to maintain control of it, and to use it to destroy my enemies, want to pay for it, to maintain control of it, and to use it to destroy my enemies, Hennessey nodded agreement. "Then I will go back to the Federated States in two days to begin." Hennessey nodded agreement. "Then I will go back to the Federated States in two days to begin."

Saulterstown, Shelby, FSC, 5/8/459 AC Military installations bred military towns. Saulterstown, right outside of and dominated by Fort William Bowen, was typical, from "Sarge's Used Auto" to "Post p.a.w.n Shop." Typically also, the military town was full of ex-soldiers. Hennessey had come here to find and recruit one in particular.

He knew couldn't make his plan work alone, that he would need help. So he had drawn up several lists of people that had worked with or for him over the years who might be available. Most of these he eliminated as unsuitable. Forty-nine remained. He stood now outside a firearms store owned by one of them. It looked depressed. A few posters of guns decorated the walls. Through the windows he could see rifles and pistols in gla.s.s cases. Still, this was much the most bedraggled looking gun store he had ever seen. He walked in.

"Is Terry Johnson here?" he asked the sole clerk on duty.

The crop-haired, wiry man behind the sales desk put down the rifle he was inspecting and instead looked at Hennessey. Something about the civilian clad man in front of him suggested, rank...serious rank; dunno why he's in mufti but it shines through in civvies or not. rank...serious rank; dunno why he's in mufti but it shines through in civvies or not.

He answered, "Nah, sir, Terry's not here. He's supposed to be in later, sir."

"Do you know where I can find him, sergeant?" The sergeant that was as obvious to Hennessey as his own, former, status had been to the other serving as a salesman didn't know that either. He returned his attention to the rifle.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll just wait." Hennessey amused himself by walking around the store, examining some of the guns on display, reading the few posters on the walls. As he walked and looked, he tapped impatient fingers on the gla.s.s cases.

One of the items on wall display caught Hennessey's eye. It was apparently a plaque from Terry's former Direct Action team in the 5th Special Service Group. The plaque showed a picture of Terry's team members behind a burning red smoke grenade. It was inscribed: "To Captain Terrence 'Terry the Torch' Johnson From his Team Mates of Det 3, Co B, 3rd Bn, 5th SSG." Hennessey looked at the men in the picture and realized that the sales clerk was one of them.

"Did you leave Group, too?" he asked, pointing to the picture.

Again the clerk, laying the rifle aside, returned his attention to Hennessey. "No, sir, I'm still with Group. We all all the old team, that is pitch in from time to time to help Terry make a go of this. Doesn't seem to be working though."

Won't do to have an active member listening in when I talk to Terry. We'll go elsewhere. Even if the kid would keep quiet, no sense putting him in a conflict of interest. Sure, the FS is likely to approve what I'm planning in the long run, but in the short they might be...difficult about it. Especially might those a.s.sholes at State be difficult about it.

He continued to pace about the shop. Asking to examine a Zhong Guo-made copy of a Samsonov a.s.sault rifle with a folding triangular bayonet, Hennessey filled the time with small talk about weapons. The sergeant-clerk was a particular fan, Hennessey learned, of some unusual calibers-.410 Kiowa, .34 Suomi, and 6.5mm Jotun.

Terry Johnson muttered a curse as he yanked the wheel of his decrepit pickup truck to avoid a newly loosened piece of the road fronting his shop. He turned into what pa.s.sed for a parking lot, all gravel and mud, turned again and rolled to a stop beside the blank brick that made the place's southern wall.

He noticed first a high end rental car parked outside. This suggested a well-heeled customer inside, a rare enough event. h.e.l.l, it's a unique event. h.e.l.l, it's a unique event. Even so Johnson went first to check the mailbox that stood by the juncture of the highway and the concrete walkway leading to the front door. Even so Johnson went first to check the mailbox that stood by the juncture of the highway and the concrete walkway leading to the front door.

"Bills," he muttered with disgust. He flipped through the little stack quickly. Overdue, past due, past due, overdue, overdue, cancellation...shut off notice....f.u.c.k! FEB Overdue, past due, past due, overdue, overdue, cancellation...shut off notice....f.u.c.k! FEB the Firearms and Explosive Bureau the Firearms and Explosive Bureau wants to inspect me? f.u.c.k. wants to inspect me? f.u.c.k.

Life used to be a lot better than this. It used to even be worth living.

Shaking his head, Johnson walked to the door, opened it, and stepped in. The customer he had seen turned around. He was wearing a smile and what looked like an expensive suit.

Johnson stopped and looked at Hennessey. It had been years since last they had met and Hennessey had aged a great deal since. For a few moments he puzzled over the familiarity.

Recognition dawned. Johnson wrapped Hennessey in a bear hug, planting a sloppy kiss on his forehead. "Pat! How the h.e.l.l are you?"

"Lemme go, you nasty f.u.c.k!"

Disentangling himself, Hennessey calmed immediately and answered, not quite truthfully, "It could be worse, Terry. Yourself?"

Johnson lifted and dropped one shoulder. "A long story. It could be better. What the h.e.l.l are you doing here in Saultertown?"

"I came to see you you, Terry. Let's go have a little chat."

The two left Johnson's gun store in his beat-up old truck and drove to a nearby restaurant. They spoke of old times in Balboa and traded information on every mutual acquaintance they could think of. This continued throughout lunch and on into the drinks that followed. Then Hennessey began to probe Johnson for his own history since he had left Balboa in 447.

"Well, I got married. That was a really big mistake. We did not not get along. We got divorced about eighteen months ago." Johnson raised his beer in a unilateral toast. "Free at last; free at last; praise G.o.d Almighty..." get along. We got divorced about eighteen months ago." Johnson raised his beer in a unilateral toast. "Free at last; free at last; praise G.o.d Almighty..."

Hennessey was unsurprised. Johnson had never had any real sense when it came to women. That Johnson had been married, Hennessey knew through the grapevine. That he was now divorced was a plus.

Hennessey asked, "Is that how you ended up out of the Army?"

"No. I know what you're thinking. "Bad woman drives good man to drink" or something like that. Actually the divorce didn't bother me all that much." Johnson paused. A painful memory caused him to scratch at the tabletop. "Pat, do you remember how you told me to stay away from SSG?"

Hennessey nodded and shrugged. He couldn't see any sense in bringing up that that whole thing again. whole thing again.

Johnson continued. "I should have taken your advice. It was everything you warned me about, only worse. "Good people in a s.h.i.t matrix;" wasn't that what you said? In short, my battalion commander lied to me, then screwed me for following the order he gave me himself."

This sounds interesting, Hennessey thought. He made a hand motion Hennessey thought. He made a hand motion come on come on for Johnson to continue. for Johnson to continue.

Johnson raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You really want to hear this? Okay. My team and I were on a deployment to the Yithrab Peninsula, one of those trivial but rich little oil kingdoms. Exactly where doesn't matter; it's secret anyway. I got orders from my motherf.u.c.king, son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h battalion commander to do a blank fire attack on a police fort. It was a training mission so I didn't think anything of it at the time. When I went to the police fort to recon it, however, it did not, repeat not not, look like a good place for a blank fire raid."

Johnson put up his right hand and raised one finger for each reason he had thought the raid a bad idea. "These guys had serious security out; machine gun bunkers, even a few anti-tank weapons, all live ammunition so far as I could see. They did not look to me like they were planning to take part in any blank exercises. They did did look like they were expecting the Army of Zion to roll over the ridge at any moment. look like they were expecting the Army of Zion to roll over the ridge at any moment.

"Anyway, I got on the SATCOM and told my battalion commander that I didn't think this exercise was a good idea and why I thought so. He went ballistic on me over the radio. Insisted that it was all laid on and coordinated, etc., etc, et-f.u.c.king-cetera. That, and that he wouldn't come in my mouth. I said I still didn't want to do it. He ordered me to." Again Johnson clenched a fist at a memory that still rankled.

"So we did the raid. I couldn't use live ammo on the cops and I didn't want them to have a chance to use live ball on my guys. So I improvised. We attacked with more pyrotechnics than you have probably ever seen used in one place. We had hundreds and hundreds of grenade and artillery simulators. Smokepots, signals. The works. The attack went just fine. G.o.d G.o.d, it was pretty." Johnson sighed with pleasure, then frowned. "Only thing was...the police fort sort of...uh...burned down. To the ground. Must have been more wood in the place than I'd thought."

Hennessey laughed. He could could just see it. "You and Kennison and fire. It just doesn't mix." just see it. "You and Kennison and fire. It just doesn't mix."

"Anyway, it turned into a big international stink. I claimed I was following orders, which is not a bad defense if you haven't committed a war crime. My battalion CO denied ever giving me any orders, the c.o.c.ksucker. My word against his, and he was an SSG "good old boy." I had a choice of resignation or court-martial. I resigned. I should have listened to you," Johnson summed up.

"So, Terry, since you don't owe much to the Army anymore what are you going to do with yourself for the rest of your life?"

Johnson shrugged. "I don't really have any plans. I get about ten thousand a year from a family trust fund. I'm a part-time sheriff for this burgeoning metropolis. I load a bread truck three days a week. I had really hoped to make something of the gun store but it's costing me more than it's bringing in. That's even with free help from my old team. There are a surprising number of obstacles the government throws in your way if you want to run a gun store. I really don't know what I'm going to do, Pat."

Hennessey nodded with understanding. Toss the bait...plunk. Toss the bait...plunk. "Would you like to get back into uniform again, Terry?" "Would you like to get back into uniform again, Terry?"

Johnson shook his head vigorously. "With the Army? No thanks. Sure, I miss the Army...or I miss the old days in the Army, anyway. I thought about joining the Territorial Militia but they're as f.u.c.ked up as can be. I don't think I could stand it. In any case, no, I don't think there's a place for me there anymore."

And good bait must wriggle, must never stop being bait. "Answer the "Answer the precise precise question, Terry. Would you like to get back into uniform?" question, Terry. Would you like to get back into uniform?"

In the open question there was an implied one; Hennessey's tone said as much. Just what was being implied...

Johnson thought about the implications for a moment before answering, "Okay. You win. Like I said, I miss the service something awful. Yes, I'd like to soldier again."

"Can you follow orders; my orders?"

"You've always been senior to me, Pat. You taught me more about training and fighting than all the military courses I've ever had...in less time, too, come to think of it. Why do you ask?"

Set the hook. "Remember, Terry, how we used to bulls.h.i.t from time to time about having our own army; what we would do to make it a great one? Well, there is a chance we can do just that over the next few years. I have come into a large amount of money recently." Which was true; even if his cousin Eugene prevailed in court, Hennessey still owned a huge chunk of the family business "It's enough to get the ball rolling and keep it going for a while. It could be parleyed into an army with time and a little luck." "Remember, Terry, how we used to bulls.h.i.t from time to time about having our own army; what we would do to make it a great one? Well, there is a chance we can do just that over the next few years. I have come into a large amount of money recently." Which was true; even if his cousin Eugene prevailed in court, Hennessey still owned a huge chunk of the family business "It's enough to get the ball rolling and keep it going for a while. It could be parleyed into an army with time and a little luck." Reel him in. Reel him in.

Johnson didn't hesitate. "I want in."

"We'll be going back to Balboa."

"Balboa? Girls? Booze? Never being f.u.c.king cold? Be still my heart. I want in even more than I did before. It will be great to see Linda and your kids again. By the way, how many do you two have now?" I want in even more than I did before. It will be great to see Linda and your kids again. By the way, how many do you two have now?"

"We don't have any, Terry...Linda and the kids are dead. I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind. Terra Nova Trade Organization...that's all." Hennessey forced the pain from his voice as he forced it from his conscious mind. don't have any, Terry...Linda and the kids are dead. I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind. Terra Nova Trade Organization...that's all." Hennessey forced the pain from his voice as he forced it from his conscious mind.

That's a lot worse than a divorce. Poor Linda...poor kids...poor Pat. Johnson turned his eyes toward the table. "Okay, Pat. There're no words I can say except...I'm sorry." Johnson turned his eyes toward the table. "Okay, Pat. There're no words I can say except...I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Me, too. But getting back to business; I will be in charge. I am am a d.i.c.k, remember." a d.i.c.k, remember."

"Yeah....but you're at least a competent d.i.c.k. And you've always been in charge; you know that. Now please quit tormenting me and tell me the plan."