"Military personnel are to be handled by the MPs and not pushed around by some cop with a chip on his shoulder!"
The sergeant in charge of the MPs is a real bruiser and just the kind of Joe I wanted to see ... not too bright and dog-stubborn. He has three of his buddies with him, so we really outnumber the cops. Then I see some more police uniforms comin' through the door and have to revise my count again. It looks like a real party shapin' up.
"We weren't pushing him around!" the first cop sez, steppin' in nose to nose with the MP sergeant. "What's more, this investigation involves a civilian, so until we find out what happened ..."
"We caught some bimbo tryin' to roll one of our boys!" Shu Flie shouts at the MP. "And now they're all tryin' to cover up for her!"
"Is that so!" the MP scowls, glarin' around at the bar. "These soldiers risk their lives to keep things safe for you, and this is the thanks they get?"
What a great guy, I think. What a great, gullible, thick-headed guy. He could probably get this fight started all by himself ... if we let him.
"I resent that remark!" our cop snarls, finally startin' to lose it. "We risk our lives too, you know!"
"Oh excuse me! I forgot!" the MP smiles nastylike. "You're in constant danger of choking to death on a doughnut!"
"Doughnut, is it?" the cop sez, lookin' around slow at the other cops ... maybe to count heads and check the odds before decidin' what to do or say next.
I turned my head to sneak a wink at Nunzio, just in time to see Tananda make her entrance from the stairs.
"THERE THEY ARE!!!" she shrieks, "Those are the soldiers that attacked me!!"
It would seem that she has been busy with her disguise gizmo, because the bruise I have earlier commented on is now clearly in evidence ... although to an experienced eye such as my own, it is obvious that it is not a recent injury. Of course, bein' Tananda and havin' a flair for the dramatic, she has not stopped there. While the dress she is wearin' is the same color as the one she had on earlier, its hemline and fit are a lot more modest than the hot outfit she used to get Junebug's attention ... and more. On top of that, her wild, sexy hairdo now looks more like some librarian's maidenly bun what has been pawed to pieces. The real beauty of all this, however, is that she is standin' where the cops can see her, but the MPs can't! Of course, the crowd can see her, too.
"That's no floozie!" the guy what mouthed off earlier sez.
"Hey! I think she works with me!" someone else chimes in.
"See what happens when they let soldiers in here?"
The crowd is startin' to get ugly, but to give the cop credit, he tries to calm things down.
"Just relax, everybody!" he hollers. "We're handling this!"
Then he turns back to the MP, his face all grimlike.
"We've got to get to the bottom of this, sergeant," he sez. "I want you to hold those three men ..."
As he's sayin' this, he raises his hand to point in our direction.
Now there is a gag that Nunzio and I have pulled so often that we don't even have to look at each other now to know what to do. We are still holdin' Junebug up by his arms, and the cop is close enough that when he tries to point at us, it's an easy matter for us to move Junebug sideways in front of his hand ... then let go!
Unless you are watchin' real close at the right moment, this looks exactly like the cop took a poke at Junebug and decked him!
Realizin' the already tense nature of the situational, this is a little like beatin' on a blastin' cap with a hammer.
The MP starts to reach for the cop, but I get there first ... mostly 'cause I know what is comin' and have a head start.
"Let me!" I sez, then I do somethin' I've been waitin' to do all my life.
I lay my best punch on a cop ... in front of witnesses!
Chapter Thirteen:
"Weren't you expecting me?"
-J. RAMBO
ME AND NUNZIO have a bit of a wait before the company commander shows up at his office. This is fine by me, as it gives me a chance to stop my nose from bleedin' quite so much, and we even talk the MPs guardin' us into gettin' some disinfectant to put on our knuckles.
If from this youse infers that it was quite a brawl, youse is correct. It was ... and what's more we are the dear winners. Now, the civilian cops may have different opinions regardin' this, but we was still standin' at the end of it and they wasn't so I feel we are justified in claimin' the victory.
As I mentioned, our guards are okay guys and in a pretty good mood to boot, which is understandable as they was fightin' on our side in the fracas under discussion. We have a pretty good time with them while we are waitin', swappin' tales from the fight that were at least partially true, interruptin' each other all the time with comments of "Did you see it when I . , . ?" and "Yeah, what about when that big cop... ." In fact, we are gettin' downright chummy with 'em, but then the captain walks in.
AH our talkin', stops when he appears, though he musta heard us long before we saw him, so there isn't really any point tryin' to pretend we have been this quiet all the time. Still, he doesn't look happy, so without any kind of spoken agreement we all drop back into our appointed roles. By this I mean the guards stand at parade rest and look stern, whilst me and Nunzio just sit and look uncomfortable ... which isn't too hard since, as I said, we have not emerged from the fracas unscathed.
We watch in total silence as the captain sits down at his desk and starts studyin' the report which has been placed there. I suppose I could of looked at it myself when we was talkin' with the guards, but to tell you the truth it hadn't occurred to me until I see the captain readin' it and realize the fates of Nunzio and me might well be decided by what is in it.
Finally, the captain looks up as if seein' all of us for the first time.
"Where are the others?" he sez to one of the guards.
"At the infirmary tent, sir," the guard sez.
The captain raises his eyebrows.
"Anything serious?"
"No sir. Just a few bumps and bruises. Besides ..."
"The guard hesitates and glances at me, and I knew I was on.
"I told 'em they should get patched up and let me talk to you first, captain ... sir," I sez. "You see, it was Nunzio and me what started the fight, and the squad just pitched in later to help us out ... so I figured that ... well, since we was responsible ..."
"Can you verify this?" the captain sez to the guard, cuttin' my oration short.
"Yes sir."
"Very well. Send word over to the infirmary. Tell the rest of the squad they are free to return to their quarters after their wounds are treated. Sergeant Guido and Corporal Nunzio are taking full responsibility for their actions."
"Yes sir," the guard sez, then salutes and leaves.
This is a bit of a load off my mind, as I have been worryin' a bit about gettin' the crew into trouble with our gambit. A bit, but not all ... as there remains the question of what the captain is gonna do about me and Nunzio. This is a for real question, as the stare the captain is levelin' at us is real noncommittal, which is to say he neither looks happy nor upset ... though I'm not sure what he would have to be happy about in this situational.
"Are you aware," he sez finally, "that I was called off stage to deal with this matter? One song into my final set, no less?"
"No sir," I sez, 'cause I hadn't been.
This simple statement did, however, settle two things in my mind. First, there is the matter of his rather flashy outfit ... which while it is indeed quite spiffy, is decidedly non-regulation. Second, it removed any doubts I might be havin' as to the level of benevolence the captain is feelin' toward us ... noncommittal stare or not.
"According to this," he sez, lookin' at the report again, "you two were involved in, if not the actual instigators of a barroom brawl, not only with civilians, but with the local police as well. Is there anything you'd like to add to that?"
"One of those civilians tried to roll one of our squad," I sez.
I
figure that now we have accomplished our mission, it is time to start lookin' out for ourselves.
"Then, when we try to get him out, the others try to say he has assaulted her. As far as the cops ... I mean, the local police go, well, they was tryin' to arrest us all, even though our own military police were right there on the scene of the alleged crime, and we was taught in basic trainin' ..."
"Yes, yes, I know," he waves. "Soldiers are to be tried in military, not civilian court, so you two took on a whole room full of civilians over a point in the Military Code. Is that it?"
"Yes sir. That and to try to help one of our squad."
"Very well," he sez, and looks over at the guards. "You men can go now. I'll handle this from here."
We wait quiet-like until the MPs file out of the room, then a little longer as the captain is studyin' our files again.
"You two have only been assigned to me for about a week ... and only enlisted a few weeks before that. Is that correct?"
"Yes sir."
"So you're fresh out of Basic and already a sergeant ... and corporal. And now this."
He goes back to starin' at our files, but I am startin' to feel a little less anxious. While there is no question of us beatin' the rap, as we have confessed, it's startin' to sound like we might get off with nothin' more than losin' our stripes ... a possibility which does not distress me overly much. Not bad for not havin' a mouthpiece to do our plea bargainin'.
"The civilian authorities are recommending you be disciplined severely ... that you be made an example of to discourage other soldiers from following your example."
I start feelin' anxious again. This does not sound so encouragin', and after a career unblemished by a single conviction, I am not eager to spend time in an army stockade. I wonder if it is too late to withdraw our confession ... and whether the MPs are still outside.
"Very well," the captain sez finally, lookin' up from our files. "Consider yourselves disciplined."
We wait for him to say more, then realize that's all there is.
"Sir?"
The captain gives a tight little smile at our reactions.
"Do you men know what an army that's growing as fast as ours needs the most?"
I experience a sinkin' feelin' in my stomach, as I have heard this speech before. Nunzio, however, was not present the last time it was run past me.
"A better tailor," he sez.
The captain blinks in surprise, then erupts in a quick bark of laughter.
"That's pretty good," he sez. "A better tailor. You've got a point there, Corporal Nunzio ... but that wasn't what I was referring to."
He drops his grin and gets back on track.
"What we need are leaders. You can train men to shoot, but you can't train them to lead. Not really. We can show them the procedures and tell them the principles so they can at least go through the motions, but real leadership ... the charisma to inspire loyalty and the guts to act in a crisis ... that can't be taught."
He picks up the report and tosses it back down careless-like.
"Now, publicly we have to discourage our soldiers from fighting with civilians, whatever the provocation. Any other position would endanger our welcome in the community ... such as it is. We are aware, however, that there are those who try to exploit our men at any opportunity, and many who frankly resent us ... though I never could understand why."
I am willin' to let this pass, but Nunzio doesn't.
"Maybe it's because the army is the major recipient of their tax money," he sez.
"But their taxes are being lowered, not increased by our campaigns," the captain frowns.
Just as it did the first time I heard it, this statement strikes an impure note in my mind. Again, however, I am not allowed time to pursue it.
"Whatever," the captain sez, shakin' his head. "The truth of the matter is, that while we cannot publicly condone incidents such as the one you were involved in, there are far worse things in the army's eyes than to be willing to fight for your men and the Military Code. The fact that you were willing to take this stand against civilians, police even ... and after only three weeks in the army too ... Tell me, have you men given any thought to going Career? Of making the army your permanent occupation?"
This takes us a little aback, as we have given this idea about the same consideration we would give pokin' ourselves in the eye with a sharp stick.
"Ummm ... to be honest with you, sir," I manage at last, "we was gonna see how things worked out in our first tour of duty before tryin' to reach any decision."
This struck me as a diplomatic answer, as it is not wise to tell a man you think his career choice stinks on ice ... especially when he is in a position of control over your immediate future. For some reason, however, the captain seems to take my response as an encouragin' sign.
"Perhaps I can make the decision a little easier for you," he sez, startin' to scribble in our files. "I'm promoting you both. Nunzio, you're a sergeant now ... and Guido, you're getting another stripe. Of course, we can't have you wandering around town now ... or your squad either, for that matter. It might get our civilian hosts upset. Tell you what. I'm going to transfer you and your squad to Headquarters Staff. There's always opportunity for advancement there. That's all, men. You can go now ... and congratulations!"
I would like nothin' more than a little time to think over this latest development, but it is not to be. Nunzio barely waits until we are clear of the commander's office before he starts on me.
"Guido," he sez, "am I crazy, or is the army?"
"Probably both," I sez, "though I'll admit I think the army has an edge on you in the 'foo-foo land' department."
"I don't get it. I just don't get it," he continues like I hadn't said anythin'. "I mean, we disobeyed standing orders ... even roughed up the cops for cryin' out loud. And we get promoted for that"!"
"It would seem," I sez carefully, "that we're bein' rewarded for 'action against the enemy.' I guess we just miscalculated who the army sees as 'the enemy' is all."
We walk on in silence for a few, each of us reflectin' on what has occurred.
"I guess there is a good side to this," I sez at last. "If we are gonna continue our attempts to disrupt the army, headquarters is probably the best place to do it from."
"True enough," Nunzio sighs. "Well, Guido, let me be the first to congratulate you."
"On what?"
"Why, on your promotion, of course," he sez, glancin' sideways at me. "I know exactly how much it means to you."
I think of hittin' him, but he has deliberately stepped out of range as he lays this on me.
"Nunzio," I sez, "let us not forget your own ..."
"Hey guys!! Wait up!!"
We look around to find Spyder comin' up behind us.
"Oh, hi Spyder."
"So what happened?" she sez, tryin' to get her wind back as she catches up to us.
"Well, there was a bit of a fight after you left, and ..."
"I know that," she interrupts. "I heard. Sorry I missed it. I meant afterward. Are you guys in trouble?"
"Naw," Nunzio shrugs casual-like. "In fact, we're all being transferred to Headquarters Staff ... oh yeah, and Guido and me got promoted."
He sez this real easy, expectin' her to be as surprised as we was. Strangely enough, however, she lets it skate on by her.
"What about the civilian authorities? What are you gonna do about them?"
"Nothin'," I sez. "Why should we?"
"Are you kidding? The way I heard it you punched out a cop! They aren't gonna just ignore that!"
"They're gonna have to," I shrugs. "As soldiers, we are subject to discipline by the military, not civilian courts."
"We are?" she frowns, stoppin' in her tracks.
"Sure. Don't you remember? They told us about that back in Basic."
"I told you you should pay attention to the Military Law lectures," Nunzio sez, grinnin' at her.
"Gee," she sez, chewin' her lip. "Then I guess you don't
need the help I brought you."
"Help? What help?"
"Well, I thought you were gonna be in trouble with the civilian authorities, and since I knew you guys was connected, I figured I should find somebody to pass the word to so ..."
Until now I had only been listenin' casually. As Spyder spoke, however, a loud alarm began to sound in the back of my mind ... a very loud alarm.
"Connected?" I sez, interruptin'. "You mean like with the Mob?"
"Of course," she sez.
"You went lookin' for the Mob?" Nunzio sez, catchin' on at last.
"That's right. Found 'em too."
"Wait a minute," I frowns. "When youse said you 'brought back help,' were you sayin' you've got somebody along now?"
"That's right," she sez, lookin' around. "He was with me when I spotted you a second ago. I may have gotten a little ahead of him, but he should ..."
"Hello Guido ... Nunzio ... long time no see."
The owner of this new voice melts out of the shadows close to us ... too close.
"Hello, Snake," I sez, edgin' a little away from Nunzio so we both have lots of room for whatever is gonna happen next.
"You remember me!" he sez, though his mockin' smile makes it clear he is not surprised. "I wasn't sure you would."
I don't think anyone would have trouble rememberin' Snake ... except for maybe, witnesses ... as he is what you would call highly memorable. He is tall and real thin, and has a habit of dressin' all in black like he is now, which is why he was able to ease up on us in the shadows.
"You guys know each other?" Spyder sez, hesitant-like lookin' back and forth between us.
"Oh, we're old friends," Snake sez in that smooth, purrin' voice of his.
"Actually, it's more like 'associates,'" Nunzio corrects, easin' even further apart from me.
While both Nunzio and me know Snake, we have never pretended to like him. He is one of the top enforcers for the Mob, but tends to like his work a little too much for our tastes. You have perhaps noticed that when the occasion calls for it, neither Nunzio nor me are adverse to the judicious application of violence, but as it goes against our delicate natures we have trained ourselves to terminate such encounters in the briefest possible time. Snake, on the other hand, likes to prolong and drag out his work as much as possible ... and he works with a knife. He can be as fast as his moniker when the situation calls for it, however, and though Nunzio and me had been confident about roustin' a room full of normal people earlier this evening, there is a serious question in my mind as to whether both of us workin' together can take Snake if things get ugly.
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