Revolution

Was that what made you a hero?

No, he thought. But pointing that out to people would make him sound even worse.

The meeting was held in a former school building near the center of town, a brown-brick structure that dated from the mid-nineteenth century and had first been used as a music academy. The original builder had created a mosaic of musical notes and instruments on the foyer and hallway floor, and the ceiling’s chipped plaster sconces were in the shape of musical scrolls.

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Armed soldiers guarded the entrance and stood in bunches along the halls; they wore combat fatigues and their guns showed signs of wear, the wood furniture scraped and dented.

This made the soldiers also seem like part of the past, and Dog felt as if he were walking through a newsreel of World War II.

Da

“How you doing, Da

Da

Da

“Embrace the suck,” meaning that you had to somehow find a way to deal with it. But the more horror you saw, the harder it became to come up with any sort of saying that put it to rest.

“They’re still not sure how many guerrillas were involved,”

said Da

Dog shook his head.

“They know there are camps over the border,” said Da

“They ought to attack them there.”

“I agree,” said Dog.

“Maybe you should suggest it. They aren’t listening to me.”

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Everyone around them snapped to attention. Dog turned in time to see General Locusta and two of his aides enter the room. Locusta also looked like he hadn’t slept; there were deep purple rings around his eyes, making his face look almost like a hound dog’s.

Locusta had barely reached the front of the room when the defense minister, Fane Cazacul, arrived. A tall, aristocratic-looking man in his thirties, he wore a finely tailored black suit and smelled vaguely of aftershave. He nodded at Locusta; it was clear from their body language that the two men could barely stand each other.

The general opened the meeting without any preliminaries, talking in rapid Romanian about the evening’s events.

He was clearly angry, though since he wasn’t speaking English, Dog could only guess what he was saying. Several of the men in the room shifted uncomfortably as the speech continued; they seemed to be singled out by the general for criticism. After twenty minutes of this, the general ran out of steam. He glanced around the room, gesturing as if to ask whether anyone had anything to say. When no one spoke up, he looked at Dog.

“This is Colonel Bastian, of the U.S. Air Force,” he said, speaking first in English for Dog’s benefit, and then in his native Romanian. “His men assisted last night, though they were not able to stop the attack. Perhaps next time.”

The general sat down. The defense minister looked at Dog, apparently waiting for him to say something.

“I am sorry about the deaths last night,” Dog said. “I see what monsters you are up against. Anyone who would kill i

The men nodded.

“I’m sorry that I don’t speak Romanian. I’m not even sure my English is all that good,” continued Dog. He meant that as a joke, though he was the only one who cracked a smile. He continued, reminding himself to speak slowly and distinctly.

“Begi

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

helping survey the border areas. Captain Freah and his men will help prepare—”

The defense minister raised his hand a few inches, his forefinger extended as if to ask a question.

“Sir?” prompted Dog.

“Will two aircraft be enough?” the minister asked in English.

“In light of this attack, I am sure we would welcome more.”

“The number isn’t up to me, sir, but I will definitely ask for more,” said Dog.

Apparently feeling that the Americans were being criticized, the colonel whose unit had been responsible for surrounding the house began explaining that the Dreamland team had played an important role in finding the guerrillas.

“We believe they were intending another attack today,”

said the Romanian. “Perhaps they would have hit a school, or a bank. The Americans helped us a great deal.”

“One thing I don’t understand,” said Da

“Why don’t you guys attack their bases? Hit them where they live?”

General Locusta shot an angry glance at Cazacul, then rose, saying something in heated Romanian before stalking from the room.

“He said, ‘That’s the first thing that anyone’s said that makes sense,’ ” whispered the Romanian general who’d ac-companied Dog to the meeting.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO CAUSE TROUBLE,” DANNY TOLD DOG

after the meeting broke up. “It just seemed pretty obvious.”

“Don’t worry about it. The politics are complicated.

Obviously Locusta and Cazacul don’t like each other. The general told me that Locusta wants to go over the border, but the government is afraid it will start an incident that will get out of control.”

“It’s already out of control,” said Da

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“Sure, I know Stoner.”

“He’s been assigned special duty out here. He thinks the Russians are involved somehow.”

“In this attack?”

“No, not directly. But he wanted samples of the explosives if I could get them. He thinks that probably came from them.”

Dog nodded.

“They could send scout teams across the border and watch for them,” said Da

“That’s their call.” Dog rubbed his forehead. “If they mount an operation, we won’t be able to support it. Our orders are explicit. The border is off limits. And you’re included in that.”

“We have to get the rules changed.”

“Copy that,” said Dog.

Bacau, Romania

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THE GUERRILLA RAID ON THE VILLAGE POLICE STATION AND

the guerrillas’ subsequent decision to blow themselves up left General Locusta in a foul mood. It was probably true, as his aides insisted, that a much more serious attack had been averted; clearly the guerrillas were pla

The Russians were no doubt behind this. They were more trouble than they were worth. As for the Americans …

Well, at least they had the right idea about what should be done. Though they were a problem as well.

The general was mulling the difficulties on the way back 204

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to his headquarters when he received a text message from a Yahoo address declaring that the state oil company’s stock was going to split and that it would be wise to invest as soon as possible.