“First Sergeant, for a senior NCO of a company in the United States Army you have remarkably poor hearing,” Nielson replied, tightly. “I said, that is all you are permitted to know. So put a fucking cork in it, Top.”
Kwan raised his eyebrows but shut the fuck up. His questions about whether the “colonel” was a PX Ranger were answered. No.
Guerrin flexed his knees as the Hind dropped him lightly to the ground, looking around at the company. The PJ guy undid the connection to his harness and then the Hind lifted up and away.
As soon as the rotor wash had settled he popped the quick release on his parachute harness and headed over to the cluster of senior NCOs and officers. One of the group, however, was unfamiliar.
“Colonel Nielson?” Guerrin said as he approached.
“The same,” Nielson replied. “Tree landings suck do they not? I had a friend in the unit who preferred them but I always thought he was high when he jumped, anyway. I’ve been giving your First Sergeant and XO a brief precis of the local conditions. I’ll catch you up later. The problem, at the moment, is figuring out quartering. There are… issues. May I make a suggestion?”
“Yes, sir,” Guerrin replied. “I was told that you’d brief me in on our mission, so I’ll take it as more than a suggestion.”
“This is, however, a suggestion,” Nielson said. “There are decisions to be made so having the troops pick out their bunks would be unwise at this time. Troops so grumble when they are moved and moved again. We do, however, have a very nice live fire range and even a CQB facility. There is daylight to be had. I would suggest that you have your senior NCOs take the troops over to the range while we, that is yourself, myself, your first sergeant, XO and such others as you deem fit, figure out quartering. That way they’re not sitting about. Idle hands and all that. When we figure out the quartering, then I can brief you in on the secure aspects of this mission while your people actually get them settled.”
“Sounds good, sir,” Guerrin said.
“It should,” Nielson replied. “I’ve both had time to think about it and been at this game for a while. I will meet you in the middle house over there,” he added, pointing to one of the local houses, “when you’re ready. I’ll have one of the Keldara join you with keys to the ammo bunker. I know you’ve brought your own, but it’s a lovely day to be shooting.”
“Gentlemen,” Nielson said, nodding at the Ranger officers and one NCO. “I have asked Father Kulcyanov to sit in as a courtesy. Father Kulcyanov speaks and understands very little English. This is, however, his house and he is the senior, if not oldest, Keldara father.”
Guerrin had wondered at the inclusion of the old man and come to much the same conclusion. Kwan had also given him an apparently verbatim report on what he’d been told by Nielson. So he took a chance.
“I understand, sir,” Guerrin said. “Does Father Kulcyanov understand Deutsch?”
“Bischen,” the old man said, nodding. “Kennen sie irhen Feind.”
“Danke schoen… Fuer Seinem Haus verwenden.”
“Soldaten sind immer wilkommt zum Senke des Keldaren, aber nicht zum seinem Frauen. Seien gewarnt.”
“Ja Mein Herr,” Guerrin said with a chuckle. “Verstandet!”
“Sir?” Kwan asked, confused.
“He said that soldiers are always welcome here,” Imus translated, chuckling. “But keep your hands off our women.”
“Yes, sir,” Kwan said.
“Not ‘sir,’ ” the old man said, making what was either a wet cough or an equally wet laugh. “I work.”
“So now that we’re acquainted,” Nielson said when the chuckles had died down. “Here’s the quartering issue. We have two useable sets of quarters, the barracks and the caravanserai up on the ridge. We can quarter all of your people under roofs and in beds. Barely. That’s the good news. The bad news is that the barracks are open bay with the exception of two rooms per barracks that are private, you can handle that. But they are only big enough for two platoons. The other bad news is that the caravanserai is the personal home of the local landowner and warlord. He’s an American, Mike Jenkins, who is currently out of town. It is also the quarters for his harem. And I mean that in every possible sense of the word. I will now entertain questions.”
“Girls,” J.P said, wincing.
“Eleven of them… actually make that about thirteen,” Nielson replied. “Four of them are straightforward hookers who can be available to your personnel at your discretion. They’re underutilized at the moment because most of the male residents are out of town. Then there’s the harem manager, Anastasia, who is a former harem girl of a sheik in Uzbekistan and now runs Mike’s. Whatever Mike may think, she considers herself monogamous to Mike. Daria who is the operations executive assistant and bookkeeper. One hot blonde, as is Anastasia who is arguably hotter, who is unattached but equally unlikely to have a casual fling with any of you.
“Then there are seven ladies who are Mike’s exclusive, highly exclusive, harem. I don’t have access so neither do you. Two of them are, in fact, virgins and are going to stay that way until the day comes for the Kildar to have his way with them. They are, in fact, looking forward to it more than he unless I’m much mistaken.
“So, gentlemen, this is the problem. You can put all your troops in the barracks and all your senior NCOs, officers and such, up at the caravanserai, creating a huge impression of favoritism but reducing some potential problems, or you can quarter some of your youngsters with a bunch of incredibly fuckable little ladies, most of whom are equally incredibly off-limits. Oh, last problem, most of the rooms that are available are in the harem quarters. At the very least we’re looking at senior NCOs quartered with seven nubile but off-limits young ladies and four very available hookers. Questions, comments, concerns?”
“Harem?” the XO said.
“Virgins?” the First Sergeant added.
“Kildar?” J.P. asked.
“Harem,” Nielson said. “Another thing to brief your personnel on is not running off at the mouth about conditions in this valley. While a large number of senior people are aware of Mr. Jenkins’ harem, it’s not something for casual discussion down on River Street. If it becomes a subject of casual discussion the leaker will be punished under the full weight of the UCMJ. Guaran-fucking-teed. Yes, virgins. Their history is complicated and not germane to the discussion. Kildar is the local term for Mr. Jenkins’ position. The history is not germane, either. Having said that, it’s an ancient term for the noble who commands the Keldara. They are a very feudal tribe with traditions that date back to the Byzantine Empire. I’ll discuss it at length if we ever have time. It’s quite fascinating.
“The Keldara girls are equally off-limits, as Father Kulcyanov pointed out,” Nielson continued. “Unless you brought a chaplain, with the permission of the parents which you’re not going to get. Most of the girls are promised to guys who are currently… ”
“Out of town,” Guerrin finished. “Okay, fuck favoritism. I’ll put it straight to the troops. How willing are the professional ladies?”
“You’re speaking of the hookers?” Nielson said. “Anastasia considers herself a professional lady but that’s besides the point. Quite willing. Enthusiastic even. And, as I mentioned, currently underutilized. Why?”
“First sergeant?” Guerrin asked. “Girls in the barracks?”
“Ouch,” Kwan replied.