“Confirm Alerrso,” Captain Folsom said. “There’d been a query out on you, sir. What is your situation?”
“Nominal,” Mike said. “I’ve bought a house and intend to stay here for the foreseeable future. I’d appreciate security updates if there’s a major issue in the area.”
“Alerrso is in a heavy Chechen area of Georgia,” Folsom said after a moment. “The security situation is poor.”
“There’s a local group I’m going to support in forming a militia,” Mike replied. “I’ll do that through my own contacts and methods. But if there’s major intel on the local security situation, I’d appreciate being apprised. I’ll keep the secondary line on standby for data dumps. Right now, given the meteorological conditions, the security situation is stable.”
“Roger that. I’ll pass on your situation and intent. Take care.”
“Will do,” Mike said, cutting the connection.
The Office of Special Operations Liaison was the group that briefed senior members of the government on Spec Ops missions and plans. Mike had become associated with them during his first post-team mission when Colonel Bob Pierson had been his “control” and communications point. Since then he’d continued to maintain contact through them and had been “asked” to keep them apprised of his current location when out of the States. It was a pain in the ass, but made up for itself in having a Big Brother to call when the shit occasionally hit the fan. Of course, in at least one case the call had gone the other way and he’d ended up shot to ribbons. But in that case, Uncle Sammie also picked up the medical bills and cleaned up the mess.
He put away the handphone and set up the larger sat phone on a chest of drawers, careful to ensure that it could get reception through the stone walls and roof. The laptop sized sat phone could download secure documents and had a headset for longer conversations, not to mention general laptop capabilities. It used a proprietary software, unfortunately, which was even buggier than Windows. But it usually worked.
With commo put in, he headed downstairs to find out what trouble the Keldara had gotten into.
With the sun setting and clouds presaging more snow, most of the Keldara had left by the time he got back downstairs. The foyer was deserted although there was a fire going in the fireplace, and Mike wandered around until he found Mother Savina and, he presumed, Mother Griffina in the kitchen.
He’d checked the kitchen out on a previous visit and been horrified. Whoever used it last, presumably the Soviets, had left it in a state of total disaster. Every cooking surface was covered with grease and food residue and most of the counters were just as awful. Not to mention the patina of dust mixed in. The floor didn’t bear description and he’d had to scrape his shoes off after leaving. He hadn’t dared look in the Soviet-era refrigerator.
The place hadn’t been raised to perfect standards in the short time the women had had to work on it but it was much better. The tile floor was visible in spots and the counters had been cleaned. The stoves had been scrubbed, but it was evident that there was more work to do. Savina and Griffina were apparently discussing that in low tones when he entered. A few of the remaining girls worked on the floor; he had a hard time keeping his eye off of them. The only way to get the floor clean was to scrub it with brushes, on their knees. The girls had pulled up their skirts to keep them from getting ruined and their lovely legs were exposed. The way they pulled the skirts up also tightened them across gorgeous asses. It was a sight to drive a guy nuts. Or down the road to the brothel.
“A mess, isn’t it?” Mike said, startling the women. He didn’t mean to move quietly; it was just the way he moved. There was a reason he’d been given the team name “Ghost.”
“Kildar,” Mother Griffina said, bowing. “I am sorry, you should not have to see this. It will take a day or two to get the kitchen properly prepared.”
“I saw it before you did and I should have warned you,” Mike said. “Where’d you bake the bread? Not in here, I think.”
“There is a smaller kitchen upstairs,” Mother Griffina replied. “If you would like something to eat…”
“I’m fine,” Mike said. “I’ll be getting back in shape and I’ll eat enough to satisfy you then. But when I’m not working out, I eat light. I ate way too much today. But there are a few dishes that, when the kitchen’s in better order, I’d like to show you. Americans eat… different than most other people. We eat bacon and eggs for breakfast, for example.”
“I will get bacon and eggs,” Mother Griffina said. “I will have them ready to prepare in the upstairs kitchen in the morning.”
“Don’t sweat it tonight,” Mike said. “It’s not that big of a deal. And I don’t usually eat that heavy when I’m not working out. Savina, we need to get the furnace working in this pile. It’s freezing in here.”
“There is no fuel oil for the furnace,” Mother Savina said, nodding. “I have sent word to order some. There is a man in town who delivers. He will deliver tomorrow, I hope. I had the men bring in firewood in the meantime. Uncle Latif is the yard man, he and his son Petro. Fires have been laid in all the fireplaces except in your room. I had one lit in the foyer and in the parlor.”
“Works,” Mike said. “Skip the foyer usually; there’s no way to actually warm the room with it and I don’t expect I’ll be sitting out there much. Mother Griffina, don’t get too attached to these antique stoves; I’ll probably be getting new ones. Christ, there’s going to be a bunch of work to be done.”
“We will get it done, Kildar,” Mother Savina promised. “Why don’t you go to the second floor parlor and I’ll bring a snack?”
“I’ll do that, since there’s no furniture in the office,” Mike said, yawning. “Get Genadi up, if you would, and have him meet me there. We have a lot to talk about.”
Mike was sipping tea and working on a list when Genadi came in the room. The second floor parlor was nearly adjacent to the master bedroom and also overlooked the harem garden. At the moment all that could be seen was leafless trees and equally leafless bushes Mike assumed were roses. But it would be pretty in spring.
“The more things I realize I want, the more I come up with,” Mike grumped as Genadi came in. “But we need to talk about the farms. For starters, I want a big pickup for each family and an equally big SUV. The pickups should be four-door and long-bed. But we need to talk about tractors and combines.”
“That is a lot of money, Kildar,” Genadi said, surprised. He sat down on the couch across from Mike and shook his head. “Very much money.”
“Money I’ve got,” Mike said. “Unless we’re talking in excess of ten mil. In which case, we’ll need to discuss it. I’m probably going to be spending more on arms and equipment; you have no idea how much top-line weapons and commo cost. Not to mention the pay for the trainers. Speaking of which, it’s late January. When does planting start?”
“Usually around April,” Genadi said. “The ground is not warm enough before then. Some of the gardens will put in cabbage and beets earlier.”
“So we have a month and a bit,” Mike mused. “That means I can’t get everything in place before planting season. Tell me how that goes.”
“First there is a thaw,” Genadi said. “Then we pick the rocks from the fields. After the rocks are picked it is time to start planting, usually. The old ones wait for signs, certain birds to return and the time of the moon. I’ll be testing for soil temperature but I might let them go a day or so on the basis of signs. Frankly, it works out about as well. Then we plow and plant the first crop. With some of the hybrids I’ll be getting, we may be able to do a second crop of some of the plants. Turnips go in early, but we won’t do much of that, cabbage as well and there will be at least one field of cabbage. I have plans on which fields should take which plants, I’ve been thinking about it for a long time…”