CHAPTER 27

There was nothing very fairy tale about this place and, somehow, Bob had kind of figured there would be. He had been to Cheau-Gan on many occasions now. As he understood it, he was on a very select list of humans who were actually allowed to enter and leave the city at will. He didn’t even have to go through all of the paperwork and requests that almost all non-elves had too. Bob had figured it had something to do with having diplomatic status but, according to the embassy, that was not the case. Bob had stopped wondering about it.

Before now, he had never been in the central area of the city proper. No one had told Bob that he could not go, he had simply never had a reason. All of the embassies were in one of Cheau-Gan’s many suburbs and that was where Bob usually had found himself. That was one reason he was rather interested with what he saw at the base of the imperial palace of the Feyland Empire. There was nothing ‘palace’ about the place and, in fact, it would have looked right at home in New York City. Bob had kind of thought the place should have looked, well, fairy tale. It certainly failed on that note.

What the Palace did not fail at was being spectacular and everything about it summoned a single word from Bob’s vocabulary, “big.” That included the security detail around the perimeter of the block. Bob could easily see that some of it was permanent but, the large majority was extra help and had obviously been brought in for the occasion. Bob also counted at least six different kinds of uniforms and, for some strange reason, it looked to him like the security was guarding the palace from each other more than any outside threat. That belief was even more reinforced as Bob passed through the security check points. None of them actually did any real security checks. The only interest they seemed to have in the long line of guests was when one might walk towards an area where the troops were. Past that, none of them seemed to care what the guests did.

Bob supposed he could see why. The guests were not exactly a rowdy crowd. Most of them were elves and they were dressed in all those ceremonial drape things that they loved. Their head dressings alone would have made it impossible for them to move around quickly if they needed too. Some of them looked so cumbersome that Bob figured it took all of their concentration just to keep the thing balanced on their heads. On reflection, Bob began to wonder if, just maybe, that was the original point of wearing them.

The atrium of the building was as big as Bob had expected it to be. It was a multiplatform affair and lavishly decorated. If the point of the place was to make the visitor feel small, then it definitely succeeded. What drew Bob’s eye were the banners that filled the spaces between some of the columns. He had never seen them before but, he thought they all suspiciously looked like flags. One of the most interesting, to Bob at least, was the red flag with the black markings on it. Those markings looked very familiar and were unlike any of the other meaningless squiggles on most of the banners.

That was when Bob nudged his “date” for the event. Both he and Garret were wearing their Army dress blues for the occasion. Garret had been busy glad handing some curious elves as they waded through the sea of guests. Then Bob pointed to the red and black banner and asked his boss, “are those supposed to be the actual flags?”

Garret gave a quick snicker and said, “noticed those did you? So did I, the first time I was here. I asked and they told me the real ones were in a museum somewhere. Quite a few of them are way too old to be flown for real.” Garret kept studying his colonel as that colonel kept studying that banner.

Finally Bob said, “that big X doesn’t mark the spot. That’s a Roman numeral isn‘t it? That design, I know it, that’s a standard for a roman legion.” When Garret did not answer, Bob looked at him and said, “that’s for the Tenth Legion. They were wiped out north of Hadrian’s wall, if I remember right.” Again, Garret said nothing so Bob put it to him, “did you ask them about that?”

“Sure did,” Garret replied. Bob prompted him for the answer and he just shrugged, “all they said was, well, basically, they gave me a yes.”

“Why is it, that does not inspire me with confidence,” Bob replied as he began looking at the other banners. He saw another that required no explanation. There was the silhouette of a tree over a blue field. There were some scribbles beneath the tree that was so much gibberish to Bob. He didn’t need to know the language to know what those scribbles meant, “Hurtegan, right? How was that place ever it’s own country? What was their major export? Skin rash?”

“You have to remember Bob,” Garret replied, “the elves have been around for a lot longer than we have. Things tend to change over those kinds of time spans.”

Bob wanted to laugh at that, “that being the case, you’d think, that would be one lesson they’d know for certain. That’s why I keep scratching my head and wondering why none of them seem to get that.”

The two soldiers were like most of the humans at this event. While most of the elves were nice and civil, some even enthusiastically so, it seemed as if each of the species were naturally gravitating towards their own kind. Isaacs and Garret were no different here. They slowly found themselves surrounded by not only humans but, humans from back home. The first they encountered was a half drunk NSA agent that used a little too much hair coloring for his own good. Bruce Arbuckle quickly acquired some safe alcohol, of the human kind, for the two soldiers and led them to his own little clique for the evening. Bob was surprised to see that he knew almost all of them.

Bob was familiar with the Losmun couple since he had been dealing with them ever since the task force moved north to Uea-Au. They had been very helpful and were always polite and pleasant to be around. It was Curwin who gestured to the very attractive woman on his left arm and then said, “I supposed I don’t have to introduce Miss Walsh to you, colonel. I hear that you two know each other very well.”

Bob remained polite and was kind of surprised that Patty Walsh did the same, “course we do Curwin.” She looked Bob over and said, “well you clean up good Colonel.”

That caused Bob to snicker as he replied, “funny, I was just thinking the same about you Miss Walsh.”

The man who had been standing just behind Curwin, stepped forward and gave a hand for a shake. He was dressed up like everyone else but, somehow, he made his formal wear look almost sloppy. He had a very shaggy mustache and unkempt hair. He also had a gruff English accent and only then did Bob remember the guy. They shook and Bob said, “Balfour, right?”

“In the flesh colonel,” Ian replied. “We met briefly at Merlin, not long after your people arrived. I’m sorry to say we didn’t get to talk more but, I understand, you’re a busy man.”

Still remaining polite, Bob told the guy, “well now I get a chance to thank you for the help. My man, Conner, he told me how much you did for us.”

Where Bob was lacking on this man, it was quite clear that Garret was not. He and Ian simply nodded at each other and then the General said, “if you good people would excuse me for a moment, I have to go find the ambassador.” Bob offered to go with him and the General replied, “no Bob, stay, enjoy yourself. No reason we both need to be working right now. Have a couple more drinks while you’re at it.”

After Garret was gone Bob just kept watching in the direction that the man had vanished. It was Patty that noted the strange expression and Bob simply replied, “just wondering what that was all about.” Bob then put a smile back on his face, a rare thing these days, and said, “while I’m here I might as well obey orders and have another drink.”

To Bob’s surprise, Walsh jumped out from Curwin’s side and grabbed the soldier by the arm, “I’ll show you where. I need another drink myself.”

Arbuckle looked down at his hands and noted, “I’ve still got an extra if you want it.”

Patty kept right on pulling Bob away from the group and told the NSA man, “no we couldn’t take yours.” After they were lost in the crowd, once again, Patty read the strange look on Bob’s face and she said, “that NSA guy, god I needed to get away from him.”

Bob thought about that and asked, “what? He’s pawing you or something?”

“I wish,” Patty replied. Then she found she had to explain, “then I could get away with knocking the shit out of him. I’m just getting tired of him looking at me all the time.”

That made Bob laugh and now it was his turn to explain, “I was just thinking that you’re in a funny business to be stage shy.” When that did not go over too well Bob changed the subject but, remained his usual blunt self, “speaking of funny business, I’m kind of surprised I’m your diversion. Last time I checked you weren’t even speaking to me.”

“You may be an ass hole Isaacs,” Patty told him, “but I can’t complain about how you’ve treated me. You’ve been pretty professional and I can respect that.” Patty stopped at that point. Then she humbled herself and forced the next words out of her mouth, “besides that, I guess I have needed to tell you…”

Bob was not sure what she was going to say next, “well if it’s something like ‘go to hell’ then I don’t think you should have been avoiding me just for that.”

Patty thought about it and then said, “well I’ve thought about that too. Not what I wanted to say though. I guess I needed to say, uh, thank you?” That was definitely the last thing Bob had expected to hear. It definitely required an explanation so Patty did, “for not letting me get on that chopper. You were right and I was wrong and… well.. you… you know?”

“You can say it Miss Walsh,” Bob told her. She couldn’t so he did it for her, “I saved your life.”

Patty was unsure, “I don’t really know if I want to be that dramatic but, yeah, I guess you kind of did.”

Bob decided to take her confession in a positive way. He also decided to try something here, “think we might be able to take this and…”

Now Patty was kind of afraid of what the guy might say next, “and what?”

Bob blurted it out, “work on the same side for a change?”

That was definitely not what she had expected the guy to say but, she nodded and replied, “I guess. I didn’t know we weren’t.”

“Considering,” Bob replied in a playful way, “we ended our last encounter with a shouting match, that kind of suggests we’re not on the same team here.”

Even if this was not the kind that Patty had been expecting, it was still a proposition none the less. She crossed her arms and then asked, “ok, fine Colonel. How does this work? I guess I should start by asking what it is you want?”

Bob thought about it for a second and picked his words carefully, “you’re not the only one that wants information Miss Walsh. You know what got my kids killed up there. It was because we’re getting shitty intelligence. I know stuff you want and you know stuff that I want. We trade, it’s really that simple.” Patty did not flinch one little bit. She remained perfectly still as she looked deeply into Bill’s eyes. She was, also, obviously, not very pleased. Bob had no idea why, “what? You look like I just hit on you or something?”

Patty rolled her eyes, “you’d have gotten further if you did.”

That surprised Bob, “really?”

“Oh brother,” Patty mumbled under her breath before explaining, “look colonel, it’s a good thing that you want to play nice, and I appreciate that. It’s just..” Patty tried to think of how to put this, “you guys have some code of honor, right? My profession has something like that and I can’t go giving you information. Then I’d be a spy and not a reporter.”

“So let me get this straight here,” Bob replied, “it’s your job to tell everybody but, the people who actually need the information? Is that what you’re saying?”

“It’s not that simple,” Patty protested. Before he could counter her she told him bluntly, “and you know that.”

“Oh I know it isn’t Miss Walsh,” Bob shot back. “I’ve read all the stuff that the State Department has gathered on you and your buddies over here.” Her face soured and he told her, “oh don’t pretend that you didn’t know they were keeping tabs on all you guys. The funny part is, there’s so much neat shit over here, right in front of your face, and why is it that your profession is doing what I’ve seen them do in every foreign country I’ve ever been in?”

“This I have to hear,” replied Patty with a sarcastic snarl.

Bob ignored it and continued, “you got the cable news guys running around spreading cash and buying up informants who are telling them what they want to hear. All the while you guys are ignoring everything going on right in front of you.”

That was not what Patty was expecting him to say. Because of that she had no idea how to reply and a lot of that had to do with the fact that what he was telling her was the truth. She had no idea that he knew that much about how her business worked. That one particular aspect was also something that Patty was never particularly proud of either. It was just that a lot of the time it was cheaper to the buy information from the local sources. Setting up an entire bureau was too expensive. Still, Patty could not say that was what was happening in Feyland, not exactly.

What she did tell Bob was, “I don’t do that, colonel. I tell the truth and I just always get the feeling that is not what you guys want.”

“Who wants to look bad on cable,” Bob told her. “Even so, I have kept the PAD guys off your back. I didn’t have to do that, you know?” What Bob did not tell her was that having the professional media shrinks from the Public Affairs Detachments were just as much a pain in the ass for him as it would be for her. Still, it was common ground.

“Ok,” Patty raised a hand, “I admit that. Still, colonel, you’re not giving me access to the stuff I was promised by your bosses.”

“I’m not letting you get killed Miss Walsh,” Bob was solid on that point. Then he lightened his tone and said, “but I can give you more. All I want is a little reciprocation and don’t tell me that every scrap of information you get is protected by the first amendment. Most of it isn’t even worth a five second blurb on a, cable news, scroll bar. Who are you hurting by just talking to me like a normal person would?”

Patty huffed out, “ok fine. I will not compromise my sources, is that clear?”

“Fair enough,” Bob replied. Then he added, “course if that source happens to be a middle aged lush that happens to work for the NSA, I’d have to take exception.”

“Oh,” Patty gave a friendly slap to the soldiers arm and then agreed, “on that you definitely got a deal.”