by John Ringo
"Will do," Meller said, frowning. "It'll take me a few days, though, not counting the time to get the program. There are some smaller packages that I can download that will do for showing it to an engineer. But I'll have to work on that by itself."
"What you're doing here any of the trainers with blast experience can do," Mike said, shrugging. "Hell, I can take over if you want. It's just blowing this rock out of the way and leveling after it's gone, right?"
"Yeah," Meller said, shrugging. "You want to take over?"
"I haven't had a chance to blow anything up in years," Mike replied, grinning. "Well, okay, a year and a half."
"Don't use too much," Meller said, carefully. "You don't want a crater."
"I won't," Mike said. "Take one of the Keldara with you who can drive and head back to the caravanserai. I'll get this thing out of the way while you work on the plans. Suits?"
"Suits," Meller replied.
"Who's your straw boss?" Mike asked watching the Keldara work. There didn't appear to be anyone supervising but the Keldara were expert at moving rock. They even did it in a reasonably safe manner, but he mentally added steel-toed boots to the list of materials these people needed. Every time he turned around there was one more "vital" item someone required. He'd taken a look at the spreadsheets last night and capital costs on the militia and infrastructure equipment had gone over four million dollars. Ammunition and pay for the trainers was going to easily go over another million. Fuel, food, the very low pay the Keldara were getting for all these projects, the whole damned thing was costing like crazy. And he didn't see any way to recoup it.
"Sawn," Meller said, pointing at the Keldara. He had the brown hair and short, broad look of Father Makanee, who it turned out was actually his uncle. He was pitching in just like the rest, tossing boulders nearly the size of his barrel chest into the back of the truck.
"Isn't that rock granite?" Mike asked.
"Yeah," Meller answered. "And the trucks will take it over to the gravel pit."
The backhoe dumped its load into the back of one of the trucks and then the majority of the Keldara backed up as it scraped the ground, clearing the last of the rubble. There was a small mound at the base of the hill that a few of the Keldara set to work on with shovels as one of the trucks drove away with its load and the backhoe began working its way out of the defile.
"It's time to set the next load," Meller pointed out. "I'll show you where the demo shack is."
A small, reinforced shack had been set up down on the flats and Meller opened it with a key to reveal a reel of detcord, a stack of Semtek cases, a box of detonators, wire and receiver modules.
"Semtek's not the best material for this sort of work," Meller said. "And I really should be drilling the rock. But that would have to be done by hand so I'm just putting in charges and tamping them with sandbags."
"I can work with that," Mike said. "But have you considered shaped charges?"
"I could make a couple," Meller admitted. "But . . ."
"I was thinking of the RPGs," Mike pointed out. "They'll dig a small diameter hole in the rock if you use the HEAT rounds."
"Now that's thinking outside the box," Meller pointed out.
"When you get to the house get an RPG and send it back with the Keldara along with a few rounds," Mike said. "About twelve. I'll have to experiment some." He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. "Take Sawn and have him stop and find Genadi on the way back. There's a pump around somewhere and we'll use it to cool the holes."
"This is getting complicated," Meller pointed out. "Why not just tamp?"
"I'm bored," Mike admitted.
* * *
"Don't set the pump up, yet," Mike said as he crossed the small stream, carrying the RPG and three rounds. "And everybody back up and put your fingers in your ears; this is going to be noisy."
He set the rocket-propelled grenade launcher across his knee and loaded in one of the bulbous rounds, rotating it to lock the head in. Then he inserted earplugs and lifted the weapon to his shoulder, flipping up the sight. The distance was about fifty meters, just over arming distance, but that should work. He checked his backblast area, to make sure none of the Keldara had wandered behind him, and flipped the weapon off safe.
The rocket flew straight and true to impact on the side of the rock,impacting with a large explosion and one hell of a bang. But when the smoke had cleared there didn't appear to be any damage to the rock.
"Kildar," Sawn called, smiling, "we will be here a very long time making gravel that way."
"Look again," Mike said, leaving the RPG and rounds in place and crossing back over to the rock. The Keldara gathered around in a crowd and shook their heads at the small hole drilled in the rock.
"I'm going to need a small, straight, piece of metal or wood," Mike said, frowning. "I need to see how deep that is. And we'll need some clay. Somebody head down by the ranges and dig some up. Just a few bucketsful will do."
Sawn detailed one group to go get the clay while a few of the younger men went to the pile of debris from clearing to look for a long, straight piece of wood that would fit. Mike, in the meantime, crossed back over the stream and continued to shoot into the rock, keeping low on it now and circling around to the east side. Each of the impacts caused a small diameter hole and he stopped when he had six.
By that time a suitable piece of wood had been found and he explored the first hole with it, noting that it was still extremely hot. The hole turned out to be only a meter and a half or so deep.
"Tum tee tum," Mike hummed as the truck got back from the ranges with the clay. He wandered back to the demo shack and loaded up with gear, then headed over to the diggings.
"Set up the pump," he told Sawn. "Fill each of the holes with water. If they flood out, that's fine. But keep filling them 'til they cool down."
"Yes, Kildar," Sawn said, obviously confused.
Mike pulled out three blocks of Semtek and broke them up, using the hood of the truck to roll out narrow cylinders. He then hooked up detonators to sections of detcord and headed over to the diggings.
He'd considered two ways to blow the rock and settled on the more reliable, using the detcord to slide the narrow cylinders of explosive to the bottom of the wet holes. Then he used the stick to pack clay down on top. It took him about an hour to fill all the holes. What he was left with was six holes with detcord sticking out of clay plugs. He then "daisy-chained" the detcord ends together and led a string of detcord out from the rock.
"Okay," he said, waving everyone back. "It's about ready to go. I'd suggest you back up a bit more than usual; I'm not as precise as Meller."
When everyone was back around the scrap of hill, he hooked a detonator and module up to the detcord daisy-chain and walked down onto the flats himself.
"Let's see what we get," he said, looking at Sawn and grinning as he hit the firing button.
The sound was much more muted than Meller's detonation and there was less dust. But when they walked back around the hill he saw that the rock had been shattered along one side deep into its mass and was now sitting on a narrow base. More rock had been thrown outward, ready to be picked up, but Mike held up his hand as the Keldara moved forward.
"Let's break it up some more, first," Mike said. "Sawn, time to learn how to use an RPG. Everybody on the other side of the stream."
This time he walked the Keldara through the loading and firing sequence, showing him how to check that he had enough backblast area and explaining why it had to be clear both of people and obstructions. He had the leader fire two rounds, then picked out another Keldara at random to fire the next couple until he'd expended all his remaining six rounds. One had missed so he only had five holes to fill this time, scattered over the upper mass of the rock. One reason that he'd fired rather than having the Keldara start clearing was that he was unsure the rock was stable enough, but it had taken five hits from an RPG and hadn't fallen over so that was good enough.
By the time he'd completed the
second demolition it was late afternoon and he called a halt.
"Go ahead and start heading home," he told Sawn. "I'll break up a couple of these smaller rocks, then head home myself. I'll see you tomorrow and we'll break up the last bit and clear the area."
"Yes, Kildar," Sawn said, nodding. "Weapons can be used for more than killing, apparently."
"A weapon is a system for applying force," Mike said. "Force like that can only be used for destruction, but sometimes you can use it for stuff like this, yes."
Mike was placing a quarter pound of Semtek under a rock the size of a recliner when he heard light footsteps coming up the path.
"You were supposed to go home," Mike called.
"You have not had dinner, Kildar," Katrina said.
"And it's nearly dark," Mike pointed out, straightening up and turning around. The girl had a basket that probably held food and a bucket with three beer bottles in it. "You're going to get yourself in trouble coming out into the dark with a man you're not married to."
"I was sent out," Katrina admitted. "But I asked when the men came back. You should eat."
"I was going to when I got back to the house," Mike pointed out. "That's why I have a cook."
"I called Mother Griffina," Katrina said, opening up the box and laying out a colored cloth, then pulling out food. "You have been working all day and you did not eat lunch. You will eat."
"I'm going to wash my hands first," Mike said, uncomfortably. The girl was about fourteen if she was a day. Not to mention bloody gorgeous. And in her society, being alone with a man was tantamount to admitting you weren't a virgin. And if you weren't a virgin, you could never get married. He couldn't imagine Father Devlich simply letting her come out here to have dinner, even if it was with the Kildar. It was literally unimaginable. On the other hand, there was no way she could have prepared a supper like this without permission; the Keldara were far too careful of their food use.
By the time he got back to the little picnic, Katrina had laid out a plate of cold chicken and potatoes with a small mess of spring greens. A bottle of beer was open and sitting next to it.
"And what are you going to eat?" Mike asked.
"I'll eat when I get home," Katrina said, archly.
"Don't think so," Mike said, sliding the plate between them. "Eat. So tell me how you really managed to convince them that you should come out here."
"I simply pointed out that you hadn't had lunch and that you were going to be late for dinner," Katrina said.
"And you'd been watching what I ate?" Mike asked, pulling a drumstick off the chicken and handing it to her.
"Everyone knew that," Katrina said, accepting the chicken diffidently. "The old women had been clucking about it half the day."
"Oh," Mike replied, uncomfortably. He knew the Keldara watched him, but he wasn't aware that the scrutiny was that intense. "And they just let you come out here?"
"Yes," Katrina said then sighed and shrugged. "I probably would have been sent to town this year if you hadn't said no one would be. No family will have me. I'm too—"
"Different," Mike said. "Hardheaded and all that, too. But mostly it's that you don't fit the Keldara mold. You're damned pretty, though," he added, then realized what he'd said and cleared his throat.
"Pretty doesn't matter," Katrina said, a touch angrily. "I know too much, I think too much. And I say too much," she added, sighing again. "Usually at the wrong time. So . . . coming out here was not such a . . . loss to the Family. Whatever anyone thinks. Besides, I'd already been with you. In the car. Remember?"
"Vividly," Mike admitted. There was just something about snow, even if you thought you were going to die in a blizzard, that was romantic. "So what are you going to do with your life?"
"I'm probably going to be the old aunt that does all the work," Katrina admitted, shrugging. "Or I'll run away to town. I'm not sure I can handle being the last woman my whole life."
"Don't run to town," Mike said, sliding the plate closer and handing her the fork. "Bad as it is here, it can be infinitely worse in the hands of the slavers. Some of them aren't all bad, but you don't get to pick and choose in advance."
"There's another choice, of course," Katrina said, taking a small bite of potato and handing the fork back. "The Kildaran."
"I take it that means the wife of the Kildar," Mike said, surprised at her boldness. "Ain't gonna happen."
"Actually, it's the woman of the Kildar," Katrina said, taking a small bite of chicken. "Not the wife. I'm not sure of the right name for you."
"Concubine?" Mike asked. "Mistress? Katrina, there are reasons I don't have people close to me. You don't want to be one of them."
"You're wrong in that, Kildar," the girl said, setting down the chicken and looking him in the eye. "I know you have enemies. But I'm strong and I'm the right woman for you."
"You're a girl," Mike said, shaking his head. "In my country, even thinking about fooling around with you is a capital crime."
"Latya, the one you call Flopsy, is younger than I am," Katrina said, evenly.
"I'm not terribly happy about that," Mike admitted.
"And you like Inessa," Katrina continued, remorselessly. "Because she looks like me, I think. Is it that I'm too smart? Too . . . headstrong? You like weak women?" she ended angrily.
"No," Mike admitted, unwilling to meet her eye. "But I don't want you getting hurt. Either by being here, with me, or by living with me and being a target."
"I am a woman, Kildar," Katrina shouted. "This year I would be married if it weren't for nobody wanting me! And you do want me, I know that!"
"Yes, I do," Mike said, finally looking at her, his eyes hot and face hard. "But I'm sure as hell not going to take you here on the grass. If the time comes, if it is right, I will consider it. But until then, you'll have to wait. Understand? Can you do that? You're an impatient bitch."
"What's a promise from a man worth?" Katrina asked, bitterly.
"From one that's not trying to get in your pants, usually a lot," Mike said. "And it was anything but a promise. Let things get stable and we'll discuss it. But right now, it's out of the question."
"I'll wait," Katrina said, furiously. "For a while, Kildar. But only for a while. You have shown that you will do things even that you don't promise. For that, I will wait."
* * *
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Hey, Kildar," Killjoy said as Mike walked in the caravanserai. The former Marine was sitting in the foyer area with Flopsy curled into his side and a glass of beer in his hand. "This beer is fantastic, you know that? You ought to sell it."
"They make it in small batches," Mike said, absently. "You using Flopsy at the moment?"
"No," Killjoy said, giving the girl a slap on the rump. "Up and to your master, little one."
"You want me, Kildar?" Flopsy asked.
"Very much," Mike said, taking her by the wrist and leading her to the stairs. "If anybody wants me, I'll be busy for a while."
* * *
Mike pulled up to the police station and got out wondering why he'd been called. All that Vadim said was that he needed to talk and not over the phone. Although Mike could call the police station on his sat phone, the local phones used a party line and were less than secure.
"The season starts," Vadim said, walking out the front of the headquarters as he was throwing on a light jacket. He waved for Mike to get back in the Expedition. "Please, Kildar, it is probably the best place to talk."
"Are we going anywhere?" Mike asked.
"Up the road," Vadim said, waving south. "You have weapons with you, yes?"
"Yeah," Mike said, frowning. "Do I need them?"
"No longer," Vadim said, sighing. "At least probably not. A farm was attacked by the Chechens. At least I assume it was Chechens. The farmer was seen talking in a tavern with some Chechens yesterday. Today there is a home burned, dead bodies, all the usual. It is very annoying."
They drove up over the pass to the south, climbing close to
the treeline at the top, then down into a series of narrow valleys. Mike took a turn off on one of the dirt roads that led up into the mountains, grateful that he'd brought the Expedition instead of the Mercedes, and finally stopped at a clearing.
It was a small mountain farm like many in the area, a cleared vegetable patch next to a small stone house. Across the road, and a stream, was a larger area that was green with some plant. There should have been goats and maybe an ox in the paddock to the side, some children playing or working around the house.
Instead there was a smell of fire and two policemen picking up bodies and dispiritedly loading them into the back of a truck. The paddock had been broken down and the door to the house was shattered and half burned.
"There were nine who lived here," Vadim said, shaking his head and getting out of the Expedition. "Viljar Talisheva, his wife, a brother and six children. There are four bodies. He had a teenage daughter and one that was just short of teen."
"And those are the bodies missing?" Mike said, his face hard.
"Indeed," Vadim said. "This is what I'm to prevent, but I'd like to know how."
"With more people you know who is moving in the area," Mike said. "You intercept the Chechens before they do stuff like this. Simply keeping them from moving through town will cut down on it; you can't move through this region without moving through Alerrso. Not north and south. Do you think they moved north?"
"No, they fled back to the south," Vadim said. "They will bribe their way past a checkpoint and be gone. I have put out the word on this, as you would say, and I am told they will be found. I doubt it. Honestly, south of the pass there are a dozen ways they can go. They might still be in the area, waiting until we are no longer looking for them. They might have passed the food they took to a mule train that will take it to Chechnya over the mountains. Maybe done the same with the girls or simply kept them for their own uses."
"We're going to have to patrol heavy," Mike said, shrugging. "As soon as the militia is trained. It's going to be a pain in the ass, but I'd rather this not happen in Alerrso or the Valley. And I'm sure the news about what's happening in the valley is getting out. We're going to have to keep a close eye out for movement in the area even before the militia gets formed."
