But what kept him in bed at the moment was the situation. There were a billion things to do, both from the point of view of making the caravanserai livable and to getting the farms prepared for the spring planting. He wasn’t sure what you did for that, but he knew that if you were going to do it right, it would require equipment. Tractors, trucks, a harvester. He wasn’t sure how much any of it cost, but he’d run across something about a harvester being a quarter of a million dollars. He had no idea what a tractor would cost. For that matter, he was vaguely aware that they came in different sizes and he wasn’t sure what size was the best for the farms.
At the least, each of the “Families” would need a tractor of their own. Maybe one harvester for the valley. A couple of trucks for each family. No, a truck and an SUV. Both could double for use of the militia.
And that was another question. He was going to need equipment, weapons and trainers. He knew where to get the equipment but he was going to have to shop for the weapons. Not a bad thing, in and of itself, but he wasn’t sure how to do it in this remote area. If you were forming a militia, did arms manufacturers send you reps? He smiled at that and then rolled painfully to his feet.
The house was still cold; he added a delivery of fuel oil for the furnace that ran the radiators to his list of things to do, then thought about a more modern heating system. Could you run forced air through stone like this?
The stones of the floor were bare and he made a note that he needed some carpets. Gads, this was going to get expensive, quick. He needed an internet connection. He needed to know if DHL delivered out here. He was almost out of bedding spray, he needed lice shampoo. Medicines in case something went wrong out here in the back of beyond. Trainers…
By the time he’d gotten out of the shower he had a general list of things he needed to do and get and his joints were working again. He did some stretching exercises to work out the last kinks, added workout equipment to the list, again, realized he needed something to write on and added general office supplies. A computer. Gads.
He made his way downstairs and passed one of the Keldara, a girl in her teens, who was dusting the rungs of a chair. She was half bent over and the outline of a very shapely ass was visible under her skirt. That reminded him that he was back in a serious lackanookie situation, while being surrounded by beautiful women. Not good.
The girl didn’t hear his soft foot treads until he was almost past and then turned around and straightened up with a frightened squeak, bowing to the new boss. He winked at her and was given a blush in return.
Despite being the local baron or whatever, he was painfully aware that the Keldara women were off-limits. Which was too bad; they were real lookers.
He found Mother Savina supervising the girls working on the lower floors and she led him into a small parlor near the harem quarters where a fire was cheerfully warming the room. She served him tea and bread, the bread still fresh from the oven, and he nibbled on that as he listened to her recite what had been done and what needed to be done from her point of view.
“I would like to replace the tile in the foyer,” Mother Savina said, diffidently. “But we do not mine marble so we’ll have to either replace it all or get some that matches. And it will be expensive.”
“I’ll add it to the list and figure out a budget,” Mike said. “I’ve barely gotten a look at the cellars. Do you have any idea what is down there?”
“Oleg checked it out for me,” Mother Savina said, shaking her head. “There is broken furniture. Some of it can be repaired and used. Maybe in the servants’ quarters. Most of it is good for no more than firewood. There are also many boxes and crates. He opened one and it had papers in Russian, I think documents from when the commissar was here. That is as far as I know.”
“We need to sort out what is worth keeping and get rid of the rest,” Mike said. “I suppose there is some scholar somewhere who could make something of documents from a minor commissar. If he finds anything that appears to predate the Soviets, I want to see it. Anything broken, throw away or burn. Any military equipment, set aside for me to inspect. Anything the Keldara think they can use, take it. As long as it doesn’t pre-date the Soviets.”
“Very well, Kildar.”
“On the subject of general cleaning,” Mike said, clearing his throat. “I hate vermin. Fleas, lice, bedbugs, especially. Buy whatever cleaners you need to get rid of them. I sprayed down the bed upstairs when I knew I was going to be sleeping in it. But wash all the linens and keep them separate to ensure they don’t get reinfested. And anyone working in the house on a regular basis needs to take a bath or shower, and use lice shampoo, to get rid of lice and bedbugs. Clean clothes, to get rid of fleas. Okay?”
“Of course, Kildar,” Mother Savina said, nodding.
“Um, about the people who work in the house,” Mike said, carefully. “I’m a heterosexual male and I haven’t been getting a lot lately. You’ll probably need some help, but…”
“Older women?” Mother Savina said, smiling faintly.
“Unfortunately,” Mike said with a sigh. “Happy as everyone seems to be to have a ‘real Kildar’ whatever that means, I don’t think they’d be nearly as happy with pregnant daughters.”
“You should have a woman in the house, though,” Mother Savina pointed out. “That would make the problem… less.”
“And a woman I was close to would be a hostage to fortune to my enemies, if they ever find me,” Mike replied. “I’ll make some arrangements eventually. Clean up the girls in town. Import a professional from time to time if nothing else. Is there a room that can be set up for an office? And have you seen Genadi?” Mike added, changing the subject.
“Genadi is still sleeping the afternoon off,” Mother Savina said. “And there is a room that would be a good office. On the ground floor to the rear. It is not well lit…”
“That’s what lamps are for,” Mike said. “Show me.”
The room was, if anything, a bit too large for an office and had only one window, high on the rear wall. But with the stone walls it would make an excellent room for secure conversations and it had a fireplace, which would be nice. He added setting up some secure links to the mental list. He hoped he wouldn’t need them, but with the way things had gone since he got out of the teams, it was more likely than not.
Speaking of which, he really needed to check in.
“I’m going to be going up to the balcony of my room,” Mike said. “I’d prefer that I not be disturbed and that you keep people out of the area. I need to hold a private conversation.”
“I will assure it, Kildar,” Mother Savina said.
Mike walked back to his bedroom and pulled his sat phone out of the jump bag. The sat phone was the size of the old “brick” cellular phones with a thick antenna. He had a more elaborate one in his duffel, but this would do for the conversation.
He went out on the balcony and made sure he had a good signal from the satellite, then hit the speed dial.
“Office of Special Operations Liaison,” a man said when the call connected. “United States Navy Captain Folsom, how may I help you sir or ma’am?”
“Go scramble,” Mike said, punching in his combination.
“Scrambled.”
“This is Jenkins,” Mike said. “Checking in. I’m going to be spending some time near a town in Georgia, the country not the state, called Alerrso. Alpha, Lima, Echo, Romeo, Romeo, Sierra, Oscar.”
It was just before four PM local time, seven AM in Washington. His usual contact was generally in by then, but he might be preparing for a briefing.