Chapter Two
1259 Palabras
Chapter Two
After the meal, the servants cleared the table, then Sarge spread out a map of the Mediterranean Sea.
“Let’s break this mission into segments, then assign groups to work on each part.”
Everyone seemed to be in agreement.
“Part one is horses and supplies,” Sarge said. “Kawalski, can you and Liada handle that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Liada said, with a tap of her fingers to her forehead.
Liada
“Part two is the ships. We need to be sure they’re seaworthy and we have materials and workmen on board to make any needed repairs en route.” Sarge glanced around at the others. “Joaquin, how about you and Tin Tin Ban Sunia for that project?”
Joaquin glanced at Tin Tin, who nodded. “We’re on it,” Joaquin said.
“Part four is manpower. I guess Sulobo owns every slave in Rome.”
“Over seven hundred,” Kady said.
“How many rowers will we need?” Sarge asked.
Captured Roman quinquereme. Now the Seventh Fleet’s Palatine
“Each Roman Five requires three hundred men,” Karina said. “If we take the two Fives and all twelve of the Threes, then we’ll need over two thousand men to man the oars.”
“All right,” Sarge said. “Liada, will you talk to Hannibal for us? I think he should end slavery in the new Roman Empire. Then we’ll hire Sulobo’s seven hundred men.”
“Hannibal will not so easy think that a good thing,” Liada said.
“You’re probably right. Slaves are an integral part of the economy,” Sarge said. “Ideas, anyone?”
“He’s not yet keen on free enterprise,” Apache said.
Private Autumn ‘Apache’ Eaglemoon was born on July 11, 1998, near Tombstone, Arizona, in the Apache Nation of the Chiricahua. Her father, Bodaway Eaglemoon, claimed Cochise to be his great-great-grandfather.
On her thirteenth birthday, her father told her, if she finished high school, he would give her his 1957 Chevrolet Nomad station wagon when she turned eighteen. She would then be free to go away and make her own life.
Before breakfast on her eighteenth birthday, Autumn already had her suitcase packed. It sat beside the front door of their trailer house while she had a last cup of coffee with her mother.
“Do not marry a man for wealth,” her mother said. “Do not marry to make children.” She sipped her coffee. “Make a friend, then test his strength of character. Be he great or small, the shape and color of his character are all that matter. Money and beauty are worthless with hollow spirit.”
“You still here?” Her father poured a cup of coffee.
“No, Papa. I left at one minute after midnight.”
“You’re burning daylight.” He sat beside her. “I cleaned the spark plugs and set the points. You got a half-tank of gas.”
Autumn slipped her arm around his thin shoulders. “I love you, too, Papa.”
He patted her hand where it rested on his shoulder. “I gotta feed the goats.” He scooted his chair away from the table and left his untasted coffee.
She hugged her mom at the front door.
“He loves you, baby, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Autumn wiped her cheeks.
“Write us when you get somewhere.”
With her suitcase in the backseat, Autumn drove away from the only home she had ever known.
In Phoenix, she worked in a café and earned enough to move on to Las Vegas. Quickly tiring of the garish neon hubbub and a thousand offers to buy, or rent, her body, she drove west until she hit the beach at Santa Monica.
She spent her last thirty-five dollars on a red bikini and slept in the dunes for a week.
Autumn never had trouble finding work, but it was always a job where looks were more important than brains.
She worked out and ran two miles every morning, but after a month of being a server at Hooters, she agreed to stop by the office of one of her regular customers.
He was an army recruiter, she knew that, but his stories of specialized training, physical development, world travel, and adventure already had her half-convinced to join the army.
As she sat before him at his gray metal desk, she only wanted to know how much of her freedom she would be signing away.
“The U.S. Army will own your ass for four years.”
“But they’ll pay me for the possession of my body, right?”
“Hell, yeah. Three hundred eighty-two a week.”
“Hmm. I make that much in tips.”
“Yeah, but does Hooters…” he reached behind his desk for something, “let you have one of these?” He tossed the M-4 carbine to her.
She caught it and looked it over, working the bolt. She raised it to her shoulder and took aim on a plastic philodendron plant across the room. “Nice. Much better than the bow and arrow I used on the reservation.”
“Reservation?”
“I’m a Chiricahua Apache.”
“Really? I thought the army beat you guys a hundred years ago?”
“Maybe you defeated us, but take a look at all the casinos on Native American lands, and tell me who’s winning now.”
The recruiter laughed. “Yeah, those Kickapoos cleaned me out in McLoud, Oklahoma.”
“You’re lucky they didn’t scalp you, too.”
A week later, Autumn reported for boot camp at Fort Lenard Wood, Missouri.
The dropout rate during the sixteen weeks of basic training is about fifteen percent for men. For women, the rate is almost fifty percent.
Autumn liked the odds. The challenge of competing with the men in academics and physical fitness suited her just fine. And it was a lot better than serving drinks in a peek-a-boo tee shirt at Hooters.
She found it somewhat ironic that an Apache should be selected to join the Seventh Cavalry, since their greatest defeat was at the hands of Native Americans.
Private Autumn ‘Apache’ Eaglemoon
After demonstrating her skills on the firing range and in hand-to-hand combat, she soon received the nickname “Apache.”
She threatened to kick the butt of every grunt who called her “Apache,” but she secretly liked the title and carried it as a badge of honor.
Autumn also had to point out on more than one occasion that Lieutenant Colonel Custer’s Seventh Cavalry Regiment was wiped out by the Sioux, not the Apache.
She dated several men, but all she ever encountered were hollow men with huge, elongated egos.
That changed after she was deployed to Afghanistan, where she went on the mission that delivered her and her platoon into Hannibal’s army as he led his troops toward the Alps and Rome.
On their journey across southern France and up the western slopes of the mountains, she became an advisor to Hannibal on geography and modern military tactics, then later she became his companion and lover.
She was delighted to find he was indeed a man of strong substance and character. It was a shame he would never meet her mom.
* * * * *
“I think what we have to do,” Karina said, “is set up the City of Rome police force so craftsmen and shop owners will feel safe. If they can be seen to prosper, that will attract more small businesses to the city.”
“Good idea, Karina,” Sarge said. “You’ll be in charge of the police. Use our money to pay the police until we can establish a tax base.”
“I’m on it.”
“Soyuz One, calling the Seventh Calvary.”
Sarge picked up the mic. “Hello, Commander.”
“You think you can get us off this glacier?”
“Yes, sir. We’re organizing our ships to sail around the toe of Italy and up the Adriatic Sea. That’s the fastest way for us to get to you. We’re bringing horses on the ships, so after landing in Dalmatia, we’ll ride to Treskavica Mountain, at Sarajevo. Probably take about a month to get there.”
“Wonderful, Sarge. We look forward to meeting you and your soldiers.”
“All right. Save your battery. We’ll call in on the radio with updates about once a week.”
“Roger. Soyuz out.”
- Autor
