"Daddy will make them pay, Mom, the men who did this!" Hennessey saw his son, Julio, looking at his mother with certainty in his eyes.
"He will, my son," Linda answered, "and terribly."
"Terribly," echoed Julio.
"I will. I swear it. I will!" whispered the unheard wraith. "Their great-great-great-grandchildren will have nightmares."
Linda looked at the rising flames behind her. "It is time to go, children. Pray now." Linda began to pray, the children joining. Even Hennessey's uncle joined in, as did many others.
The prayer over, Linda began to sing. Hennessey recognized the song, "Abide with Me." Linda had always loved that one, the wraith remembered. He was not surprised that she had chosen it for the last canto. The singing grew in volume as more people crawled over and joined in.
The wraith saw Linda and Uncle Bob stand, along with the others. They held the children in their arms as they began to walk forward, still singing. Linda's hair billowed in the wind from the smashed out window.
"God, even now she is so beautiful," whispered her husband's shadow.
Then Linda squeezed her children tightly to her, waited to feel their answering hugs… and took a single step. As Linda, Bob and the children fell forward, others shuffling up to take their places, Hennessey heard, "Help of the helpless, O Abide with me… "
High above the ground, in a first class seat toward the front of the airplane, his sergeant major seated beside him, Patrick Hennessey awakened, pulled a medium weight blue blanket over his head, and- as silently as possible-wept.
Herrera Airport, Ciudad Balboa, 9/8/459 AC
"Ahhh. Smell t'e flowers! T'ere's no place like Balboa!"
Hennessey smiled indulgently at the tall, razor-thin, gray-haired black man walking at his left side. They moved quickly through Balboan immigration and into the baggage area. At the Aduana a senior customs agent recognized Hennessey from his previous trip and waved him, the other two whites, and the sole black man forward to the front of the line. With a conspiratorial smile, the Aduana agent fell over himself to make the group's transit through the terminal as trouble free as possible. Within mere minutes Hennessey and his companions, John McNamara, Command Sergeant Major (retired), Matthias Esterhazy, late of the Sachsen Reichswehr's Fallschirmstuermpioniere, or Airborne Assault Engineers, and Her Anglic Majesty's former Royal Sapper, Gary Clean, were standing at the counter to pick up their rental car.
"Where are we goin' first, sir?" asked McNamara in a melodious Maiden Islands accent. Esterhazy and Clean kept silent, looking around with curiosity.
Hennessey answered, loudly enough for all three of his companions to hear, "First, Sergeant Major, we're going to check in at the Julio Caesare. We've got reservations already. An acquaintance of mine-nice girl, 'Lourdes'-has reserved rooms for us. Then we'll need food, I think. This afternoon, after lunch, we'll go look at buying a headquarters. I want you there for that. It may take us a couple of days to find something appropriate."
The CSM nodded. "I've given t'e set up some t'ought. Once we find t'e right place, just leave it to me."
"As always, Sergeant Major."
As the rental car pulled up, Hennessey thought to ask: "You were never stationed on the Ciudad side, were you?"
"No, sir. I've been here, of course, but only to pass t'rough."
"Okay, I'd better drive. I know the way. I'm also more used to the… shall we say… elan with which they drive here."
The drive from the airport to the Julio Caesare was uneventful. Check-in, too, at the hotel went smoothly, as expected. The rooms proved more than adequate. As Hennessey was unpacking, the room telephone rang. "A young lady to see you, sir. 'Lourdes,' she says her name is."
"Yes, fine. Please have her escorted to my room."
"I am here to see one of your guests," Lourdes told the man at the registry counter. "Patrick Hennessey."
The man looked her over briefly and came to a rapid conclusionHooker. A high-end model, I suspect.
Lourdes' already huge brown eyes widened further still. He can't really think… oh, no… I don't look… I don't dress… I hardly even wear any make up… he can't really. Dammit I'm a good girl!
She said nothing except to sigh as the man picked up the telephone and announced her, then signaled for a bellhop. The bellhop came up to stand beside her, a wide smirk on his face. He thinks so, too?
Lourdes followed the bellhop to the elevator, embarrassment- and not a little anger-growing inside her with each step. She stewed in simmering juices while waiting for the elevator doors to open. She thought, I should have just asked for the room number and told them I could find it myself. But then… no… if I knew my way around the hotel they would probably be certain instead of just guessing.
Lourdes and the bellhop rode up past several floors before the bell chimed, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. She let herself be led to Hennessey's room quietly, like a sheep to slaughter.
Hennessey opened his door, a few minutes later, in answer to the bellhop's knock. Tipping the man a tetradrachma and dismissing him, he gestured for Lourdes Nunez-Cordoba to enter. She hesitated, automatically. Helping find a house for someone you barely knew was one thing; being alone in a hotel room with a near stranger was something a Balboan girl of good upbringing just didn't do. The thought of what the hotel staff had assumed about her made her skin crawl.
Overcoming her rearing, Lourdes walked in. "It's very nice to see you again, Patricio."
"And you, too. Have you been well?"
"I'm all right, but my work has closed because of the world's economy since the First Landing attacks. I know after all you've suffered that's small beans, but I'm out of a job. My family has been supporting me. With business so depressed, and so many people out of work, I doubt I will find another job soon."
"You already have one, working for me, if you want to and are willing to put up with some conditions."
Lourdes immediately raised a suspicious eyebrow. "What conditions?" she asked. I am a good girl dammit! You may be good looking, but you are not THAT good looking.
Understanding, in part at least, Hennessey chuckled slightly. "Probably not what you're thinking. First, your job will be general clerical, with some supervisory responsibilities, work gangs and such, and some teaching. Second, the pay is twelve hundred per month plus room and board. You'll earn your pay, believe me. I am not easy to work for." Twelve hundred per month was good pay, very good, by the standards of the Republica de Balboa.
"I don't believe that."
"Believe it, Lourdes. I'm not a nice man."
"I don't believe that, either." The woman thought for a while. This is the best offer I've had lately. Reaching a decision, she answered, "I'll take it."
"Good. I'd hoped you would. You're on the payroll as of the beginning of the eighth month. I'll have your first monthly paycheck for you tomorrow. Oh, yes, there is one other thing before you commit yourself. I expect absolute loyalty, discretion, and obedience from those who work for me. You must also never tell anyone, not your boyfriend, your parents, or your priest-no one-what you do for me or what I do. Can you do that?"
"I don't have a boyfriend right now. I'm a Baptist, so I don't have a priest. I can keep quiet." She hesitated. "Are you planning something illegal? I don't want anything to do with drugs… or guns."
"No drugs. And we won't be running guns, if that's what you're worried about."
"All right then. What's my first job?"
"For now, you're going to lunch with me and a few close friends. Then we'll meet the real estate agent you found for me."
Chorrera Province, Republic of Balboa, 13/8/459 AC
" Senor, I am certain this will fit your needs," announced the fat, greasy-looking real estate agent. He may have been fat and greasy looking, but Lourdes had checked and he had an enviable reputation for fair dealing.