CHAPTER 08


   Bob did not mean to bite the guys head off. He felt like he was walking in a barnyard and had ten thousand chickens attacking him from every direction. He would attempt to fan them off only to find another gaggle coming at him from an entirely new direction. Bob was sure he had not won any friends in the Division G-3 shop. They were, after all, only following his orders and then reporting back as they should. Bob just wished there were not so many of them. It was no wonder he did not know this new guy who was wearing an ill fitting combat uniform with no patches, rank, or even a name tape. The guy took getting his ass chewed with no problem whatsoever. He just saluted and replied, “Lieutenant Colonel Hogan, reporting as ordered sir.” The man replied with no small amount of military bearing and just a hint of kiss my ass in his tone.
Strangely, Bob respected that. He now knew who the guy was and, indeed, he had been summoned. This man was, also, not a REMF. If the word around here was for real then Hogan had stood down an Orc suicide squad with nothing but a nine millimeter paper weight. Bob figured he owed the guy some respect. Hogan also happened to be the ranking First Brigade guy at NIKA. It was the former reason that caused Bob to genuinely return the salute, “pardon me colonel. We’re a little busy around here today. My apologizes.”
“Understood General,” and it seemed as if the guy really did. Then again, Bob supposed, he was nowhere near as scary as an Orc in a suicide vest, so, why should Hogan sweat him?
Bob decided to just get on with it and, besides, he was now pressed for time even more than before. It seemed as if General Hammond had figured out another way to get rid of him besides a sentence of life in the Operations Center without parole. “Did you get everybody?”
Hogan did not hesitate to rattle off the numbers. They were less than what Bob had been told to expect. Hogan explained, “some of them didn’t make it sir. We lost a good number when our special op went tits up. Then you drafted a good number to play dismount with your Bradley’s. We lost some clearing the outer buildings of the Temple complex.” That made Bob blink. He thought most of the First Brigade people would be down here on R and R. Some vacation they got. It was obvious that Hogan could see those thoughts on Bob’s face. He sternly told the General, “we’ll make due sir.”
“You’re going to have too colonel,” Bob replied bluntly. “General Landry managed to get word out. He’s got most of his support units holed up at Seau-Neaut. The base is still in friendly hands but the bad guys got the runways covered so that doesn’t do us a lot of good. He did say they’ve managed to get flights off the ground but landing a big ass plane is out.”
Hogan winced at the thought of trying to set a C-130 down on a runway that was getting blasted by twenty five millimeter shells. He had to ask, “so we’re going in choppers?”
“Well,” Bob hesitated and then handed a paper to the colonel. Bob told him, “some dumb ass came up with this brilliant idea. I know he’s a dumb ass cause he’s me. Think you can handle it colonel?”
Hogan read the paper and acted as if it were no big deal, “it’s been a while but…” Hogan handed the orders back to the General and then said, “what’s the situation on the ground? Who holds the city?”
“As near as we can tell,” Bob just shrugged, “nobody. Hell, we don’t know but, that’s not the problem. You’re going in south of town anyway. We know the Orc’s have blocked the Yellow Brick Road down there. Ariel recon is telling us they’re shooting up refugee’s trying to get out.”
Hogan nodded, “so we clear the road?”
Bob nodded and stated, “among other things,” before having to excuse himself with a, “good hunting colonel. Some of these jokers around here will get you fully up to speed. Then get your people organized into sticks.” Bob then shook the man’s hand and joined Captain Patterson who was nervously trying to get his attention by one of the doors. She had some bad news. It was no big surprise since that seemed to be the order of the day only, she was not too specific. When Bob saw the nature of the problem he understood her apprehension. Bob looked the guy over from head to toe and just told him, “hell no.”
Curwin Losmun was not wearing his usual clothing which reminded Bob of a British plantation owner from colonial India. He looked more like a British officer from the same era with one notable distinction. The guy had a US army parachute by his feet and a Lee Enfield rifle slung over his shoulder. The guy walked with a limp! How the hell did he think he was going to make a jump?
Losmun was not that concerned, “I really don’t have a choice General Isaacs. I may not have your title but I do command our militia, the Two Eleventh.”
Bob looked to Ian Balfour who just rolled his eyes and said, “don’t look at me. I’m not going anywhere near there, although, it would probably be preferable, opposed to the cock suckers we’re about to face down.”
It was not something that Bob was buying. He just cut to the chase with Losmun and asked, “have you heard from your wife?”
Losmun was unusually calm and collected as he replied, “no I haven’t but, that wouldn’t be unusual even in normal times. My home is also a heavily defended military headquarters. I’m sure she’s all right.”
What could Bob say to all that. If it had been Mary up there or, if Patty was in country, he might have been rushing off as well. That made Bob think, was Patty in country? He had been too busy to even think about it and a part of him really did not want to. He shoved it aside in his mind and then told Losmun, “give my kids a hand while you’re there.”
Curwin only nodded and replied earnestly, “all I can and more General. We’re all humans after all.” For these people, it meant a lot more than if anyone on Earth had ever said it.
As they walked to the chopper, Bob noticed that Losmun's proclamation, of species unity, did not seem to have the same effect on Balfour. Losmun had this burning passion beneath his words, where as, Balfour was the exact opposite and almost to the point of being cynical. It made Bob wonder, “you two go back, I take it.”
As usual, Balfour played his cards close to his chest, “what would make you say that?”
“You looked annoyed and familiar,” Bob hit back with.
“How perceptive of you General,” replied Balfour before the sound of the chopper blades made conversation impossible. When the doors to the Blackhawk were closed, and they all had the intercom patched in, Balfour’s next remark was on an entirely different subject, “are you sure this is safe?”
Bob almost laughed, “if it was safe it wouldn’t be the army.”
Sharon Patterson swallowed before commenting, “there are quite a few Orcs between here and Cheau-Gan.” That statement proved to be almost prophetic as the first sporadic fire started before they had even left the base perimeter. Bob noted that once they had cleared, the line of sight, mortars started raining down on those places where fire was coming from. It made him laugh and that left Sharon a bit confused, “funny sir?”
“Yeah,” Bob replied, “a fat lot of good the suppression fire would have done us if we took a hit.”
Fortunately that was also the last real fire they took for what was supposed to have been a very short flight. The chopper was going low and fast, not giving anything on the ground enough time to hear, locate, and then shoot at them before they were gone. It made for a roller coast ride and, a longer one since they were not traveling in a straight line. It also did not give Bob an opportunity to see some of the things he wanted too. He put that to the pilot and the guy was not exactly thrilled but, Bob pointed out, “we get paid to take risks. I need to see that.”
As they closed in on the outer perimeter, of the elf capital city, the pilot reluctantly gained altitude. He did it very quickly and picked up a lot of it. As predicted, they started taking enemy fire almost at once but, were out of range not long after the climb began. Bob looked out the window at the unearthly landscape that could have easily come out of a fantasy painting. What disturbed it was the tall columns of black smoke rising into the waves of colors that flowed across this planets purple like sky.
Bob found himself having to rely on paper maps these days. That was not something he had done since he was a cadet in Officer Candidate School. What made it even worse was the fact that the maps were rough, at best, and he had no compass to orient them with. In Feyland, a compass was next to useless anyway. Still, he was able to figure a few things out and he told Patterson, “that’s the main highway right? The one that they let other species in?”
Patterson did not bother to look. When she had peered downwards all her eyes could see was the tracers flying up at them. She knew what the General was talking about though. She nodded and said, “yes sir. That’s the word we got. Their main attack fell on the check points along this sector.”
Balfour was being his usual self as he asked, “you look like you expected something else?”
After thinking about it for a moment, Bob replied, “actually I kind of did. Why don‘t you?” Balfour’s reply was typical of what Bob had come to expect. These people had a definite chip on their shoulder when it came to other species and that even included a guy like Balfour who had probably been born and raised on Earth. What he was not looking at was the military reality and that was all Bob really cared about. Still, Bob had to wonder, if a guy like Balfour was thinking that much in the box or, maybe, even with his head up his ass, then how bad was it for the rest of the leadership in Feyland. That made Bob think that just maybe this little trip was not some exercise that Hammond cooked up to get rid of him. It might very well be that too but, it also might be very important. “Which council are going to see?”
Balfour almost laughed, “does it really matter?” When Bob was not satisfied with the answer, Ian told him, “the Elves, they got so many committee’s, it would make your Congress look simple. Forget all that crap General. Those are just toys that the emperor uses to keep the clans in line.”
That caused Bob to give Sharon a nasty look and she got nervous again and told him, “well I didn’t know, sir.” She was the one who was supposed to have briefed him on all this. What she said had not even brushed on this revelation.
Balfour just rolled his eyes at the little girl, “they don’t want you to know missy. That’s the entire point of the exercise.” Ian then looked back to Bob, “you saw that Imperial Council. Remember when I took you? You really think they got any business done there? All that singing and poem crap, coming out of those big ass ornaments they wear?”
Bob had figured something like that back when he saw it. It was not exactly an Earth shattering revelation, “well they can’t keep us in the dark now.”
That caused Balfour to shake his head, “no, no, no, it’s not you they’re really that concerned about. The way they got it figured, you’re not a superior species so, you’re not that important. Confusing you is secondary.”
Sharon took that as an insult and let it slip, “those arrogant pri…” She suddenly saw the General’s eyes looking towards her and back pedaled, “sorry sir.”
It was was Ian who stepped in, “no, General. The little girl has it right. Always remember that when you’re dealing with an elf. If he’s being polite and nice, you got something he wants. That’s all that means.”
This was frustrating but, to Bob, not for the same reasons that his captain was showing. He put it to Ian, “so where do they do business? Who are they hiding all this shit from? The Orcs?”
“Oh hell no,” Balfour waived that off with a laugh, “from each other General. As far as an Elf is concerned, it’s the only thing that ever matters, themselves.”
Sharon was a bit less irate when she responded, “people can be like that too, you know, selfish.”
“You see,” Ian told her, “you still don’t get it.” When it was clear both Americans were confused, Ian was not even sure he could explain it. He tried anyway, “you can look at an elf, be around them long enough, that you eventually even forget you’re not dealing with a human. Trust me when I tell you this, and I know from personal experience, that they are not human. They are different in a lot of ways that go way beyond their ears. They don’t think like we do.”
Bob had to wonder, “sounds pretty racist to me Sir Ian.”
“Maybe it is but,” Balfour admitted and then pointed out, “racism implies some kind of feeling of superiority. I know better. I also know you Americans are programmed to run anytime someone brings that subject up. You do that here and it’s going to bite you in the ass. You’re not dealing with other humans who happen to have a different skin color. This is another species and they are not the same as us, it is that simple.”
That led Bob to a relevant question, “how are they different?”
“We don’t have that long General,” Balfour told him. When it was clear that answer would not suffice, Balfour mulled it over and then said, “when you go to the grocery store, what is the one indispensable item you usually have with you?”
Sharon raised a finger, “a shopping cart?”
Balfour groaned and the replied, “how about a list? Then when you get there you start on one side of the store and work your way to the other. Let me ask you this, you seen any stores like that in Elf city? In any Elf city?”
Bob had to admit that he had not. He also had never given it a second thought. Then he realized that he had never seen any kinds of stores or, at least, not the kind he would have thought of. The closest they came to that were in the non elf suburbs of Cheau-Gan. Now that the fact was hanging in front him, he was confused, “I don’t get it?”
“I know,” Ian told him. “That’s cause Elves don’t shop, General. They don’t just go looking and then pick up what they find. When they want something, they know what it is, where it is, and they go for it.”
Sharon found the notion almost revolting, “where’s the fun in that?”
There was another angle that Bob realized, “I was thinking more like, that doesn’t allow for a great deal of flexibility.”
Balfour smiled, “now you’re getting it.” As Bob leaned back to consider that Ian added, “don’t sell them short on that count, General. There’s nothing more dangerous than an elf that knows what he wants.” Sharon noticed that Balfour’s words fell short. He saw her reaction and decided to add, “the problem, my dear, is figuring out what the bastards really want. They might be rigid but they aren’t stupid.”
It was a thought that Bob was still chewing on when he walked in the office of Ambassador Bunker, at the US Embassy. He had ditched his Captain in the lobby and Balfour was perfectly fine with being excluded since he seemed to have no interest in talking with Bunker anyway. The guy went to the odd little house that, as time proved, was the Camelonian Embassy. Oddly enough, that left Bob alone because Bunker was not there. He had an office full of manned cubicles outside his door but, he was nowhere to be seen.
When the big burly man did show up, Bunker was wearing a helmet and body armor over his expensive suit. He was complaining about it as he ditched the protective garments and it never seemed to occur to him that Bob was wearing all of that and more, without complaint. Bob decided to mention, “I can relate.” Then he asked, “did your security detail make you wear it?”
“Hell no,” Bunker replied with his deep Tennessee twang, “I’m not stupid Bob. I didn’t join the State Department to get killed in another universe.”
That made Bob give a short laugh but, probably, not for the reasons that Bunker seemed to think. One look out the big office window told Bob that he was standing in what was probably the only peaceful place in all of Feyland. Bob really did not believe that was going to change. It was even a part of the reason he was here. This thought led to the natural question, “so who pulled me out of the field this time? Was it you or them?”
Once Bunker was settled at his desk he said, “as far as I’m concerned General, if you want this fucking job you can have it. I’m about as fed up with those pointy eared ass holes as I can be.”
“Oh Jesus Ted,” Bob replied, “I’m not a diplomat. I think I made that clear, last year, when my kids were getting slaughtered up in the Hurt.”
“What can I say,” Bunker replied, “they don’t want a diplomat, they want you. I guess you made an impression on Solenceaus.”
“Yeah well,” Bob just shrugged, “he wasn’t what I expected ether.”
“Don’t matter,” Bunker waved it off, “the Notae’s seem to respect you. Then you got Quintescau on your side, so, as it goes, you’re our best quarterback here.” When Bob only scowled, Bunker told him, “I can’t help it if they like you. Look, you got a direct pass to the oval office and they know that. It’s just damn good luck on our part that you got caught over here with the rest of us.”
What could Bob say to that? He had done this to himself and he mumbled his thoughts, “why do I always get punished for doing what I’m told?”
Bunker heard him, “don’t ask me Bob. You’re about as diplomatic as a lead pipe. For some reason, that’s exactly what the elves like.”
Bob took the one possible out that he had, “or just maybe they think they can manipulate me easy.”
That caused the Ambassador to hesitate for a moment but, then he was quite frank, “actually, that’s exactly what I thought but, what do I know?”
That gave Bob even more to think about as he and his little crew were joined by a few State Department flunkies. They were all picked up in front of the embassy by a caravan of stretched out, luxury, vehicles of Elf make. They also had an elf military escort that, judging by their uniforms, was made up of the Emperor’s own body guard. Bob wondered why it was that they needed so many vehicles for what was only a hand full of humans. Then he remembered what Balfour had said and that kind of brought the prompt and circumstance more into focus. Bob even got his own vehicle, all to himself, and the back had several bench seats, along with every luxury you might find in Hollywood, minus the hot tub.
Just before the procession pulled out, an Elf in a military uniform slid in the back with Bob. He looked like any other elf officer that was escorting their caravan, until he took his goggles and hat off. Bob just sighed as the vehicle began to move and then he stated, “I should be surprised but I’m not. The real question I got here is, do I need to grovel or anything?”
Emperor Solenceaus grabbed for a bottle of human alcohol, bourbon from Earth even, and tossed it to Bob. He then found a brand of methanol and began pouring himself a drink. He did not even bother to answer the question that, obviously, he took as both sarcastic and rhetorical. Instead he got right down to business, “I’m afraid that the meetings we have scheduled are going to be a complete waste of your time General. I do apologize for that but, some beasts have to be served.”
Bob was dead serious when he replied, “you mean like keeping your own people from turning on each other.”
Solenceaus was equally as frank and serious, “yes.” He did, almost as a consolation, offer some kind of explanation, “we are who we are, General. I can’t even begin to explain the differences and why. It may be time consuming but, it is important even if, you could say, it is a minor concern. It is certainly not as important as the job sitting in front of you.”
Bob grunted and then looked out the window at the passing city before he told the Emperor, “you know, when word of this gets home, my people aren’t going to be all that happy about it. We’ve got reporters here. When they tell their story it’s going to look like you guys suckered us in to keeping your whole world from getting overrun by those things. All the while you guys sit back and let us take the heat.”
Solenceaus nodded and then asked, “and the question most on your mind is?”
Bob was quite huffy when he blurted, “well did you?”
Why was it that Bob actually believed the guy when he said, “no. We had no idea this attack was coming.”
Even so, Bob still remained accusing, “yeah but you guys knew something was up. It was no accident you wanted all those guns from earth and you may have did it to call out the Camelonians but, you still needed the guns anyhow.”
Despite Bob’s apparent hostility, the Emperor found it amusing and he even noted, “I see that Balfour has been running his mouth as usual.” Then Solenceaus easily continued with, “General, your government would never have consented to sending so many troops had it not been seen in the light of your own best interests.”
“Well,” Bob countered with, “there are those who seem to think they can get rich here.”
Solenceaus waived that thought off, “and we both know that isn’t true. Surely, by now, President Devon has figured that much out. Trade between our species will not come easy or be particularly profitable.”
Bob stated short and seriously, “unless you’re pushing drugs.”
“There are,” Solenceaus stated very diplomatically, “certain cultural realities that even I do not control, General. You find that entirely repugnant, whereas, my subjects not only see it as normal, they see it as required. It is also not the central issue. You have, since the attacks began, stated what some would think is quite obvious. It is so obvious that many do not even realize it is there. My best military minds have not even asked this question. I think your phrase for this is called, in the box?”
Bob winced and asked, “how would you know about that?”
Solenceaus gestured to the side of his head and replied, “I have ears.”
Was that a joke? Bob did not find it particularly funny if it was. Instead he just chalked that down for a later issue and noted, “my question is not as big as the real one. What the hell are we going to do about it?”
That caused the Emperor to nod in what appeared to an appreciative gesture but, it was sometimes hard to tell. At least with Solenceaus, the guy seemed to be thoroughly schooled in human gestures and he used them as easily as anyone from Earth. Still, Bob could not help but thinking back to what Balfour had said. If there was any elf that knew what he wanted, it was this guy. Was Bob being played here? He wondered but, what choice did he have but go along with it?
Bob told the elf, “we’re playing their game. We can’t do that. There’s no way we’ll ever beat them going head to head.”
Again, Solenceaus nodded in a thoughtful manner and his reply was very simple, “I agree. As I understood it, that has a lot to do with the nature of your intelligence endeavors in the north. Have you learned anything?”
That caused Bob to give a short laugh, “nothing that you didn’t already know. Course, I suspect that when I say you, I mean only you. I get the feeling that most of your people don’t.”
The Emperor actually looked genuinely inquisitive when he asked, “why would you say that?”
“Cause if they did,” Bob said bluntly, “they’d be crapping in their pants just like I am.” Bob had the man’s attention so he used it, “look, Emperor or whatever I call you, this is only the start. The attack on your city, on the temple, everything down here, it was just a diversion to scare you people into pulling your assets close in. Near as I can tell, the real targets are up north and, unless I miss my guess, the Orc haven’t even deployed their main army yet.”
Bob might have sounded offensive but, the Emperor took no offense. He thoughtfully asked, “and then what?”
“Then they pull out their main force and, they’re coming after you for real,” Bob replied. He added, “and by that point they’ve already whittled your defenses down and there won’t be anyway you can stop them.” As the Emperor thought that over, and Bob suspected the elf had come to a similar conclusion long before this meeting, silence returned to the back of the vehicle. Bob’s thoughts drifted along a different line and he decided to do a little probing himself, “I think this whole attack is pretty conclusive about one thing. You people have been selling the idea that the Orc are some stupid brutes, animals just raiding like a fox hitting a hen house.”
Still distracted, Solenceaus pointed out, “your people went to great lengths to capture a few live ones. Surely you didn’t find out anything different.”
“Remains to be seen,” Bob told him. “That is, of course, except for the fact that you guys knew we wouldn’t find out anything else. This attack was not planned by some dumb animals, your highness. So who is pulling the strings?”
“The Camelonians have been looking into it,” Solenceaus replied while still distracted. He then became focused and asked, “so how do we stop this inevitable attack to wipe out my people?”
Bob took that as the only answer he was going to get to his question. His probe had been halted and he had been a soldier long enough to see that. Bob understood that he enjoyed a certain measure of informality with this head of state but, he also knew it only went so far. The guy wanted to know a military reality and, as Bob could see it, that was important too. So Bob played along and said, “we got one thing, going for us, that they apparently didn’t count on. As well planned as this attack has been, I don’t see how they missed it but they did. That means we got a shot. We stop it, before the real attack begins.”