Mayhem 4 Irish MistChapter 15
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I'm pretty sure you can't die from embarrassment. At least I'm fairly sure you can't. You couldn't tell that by me right then. First off, it's embarrassing that a grown man can't even stop a ity-bitty girl who masses about half his weight (don't give me any crap about the differences between "weight" and "mass"; yes I know physics and yes I know the difference) from stripping off his shirt. True, given any other circumstances I wouldn't have minded one bit; she's a tasty little morsel and pretty doesn't even begin to describe her but ... It just wasn't appropriate. Add to that said girl took one look at my ravaged torso and blurted out a profanity ... Maybe "embarrassing" doesn't come close.
"Work out much?" Leanne grinned up at me.
"Ah, well, sure ... It's part of the job..." I tried to say.
"Oh, what's this?" she asked reaching up to draw a finger along one of my many scars. "Is this from a bullet?"
"Ah, maybe," I mumbled. "I kind of forget. Bullet or shrapnel maybe..." Or even sticks, stones, pieces of armor and at times a bone or two. Hell only knows what they've pulled out of me. It's all a bit of a blur and it's not like the medics made a list or anything like that.
"Leanne, 'e's not a dolly ya can play with," Niamh said crossly.
"Who said ah'm playing?" Leanne purred and looked up at me with a quirky little smile that had trouble written all over it. "But yer right, dear cousin. We need to get this shirt rinsed out."
"I'll do it," Eimile spoke up for the first time I could remember. She had a beautiful voice, very soft as you would expect and melodious; kind of like the tinkling of tiny bells. Leanne handed her my shirt before I could grab it and she ran out of the studio with Shauna following her. Mac followed along behind both of them glancing at me and I'll be damned if he wasn't laughing! I gave him a nasty look that wiped that silly grin off his smug face. Well, I knew who had Rachael duty tonight. Let him laugh about that!
"Ah thought they could fix them ugly scars and all that," Rachael said rather loudly.
"They can," I shrugged. Leanne turned and gave a disgusted look to her cousin. "For the most part anyway. The army does a pretty good job to the ones on your face, arms and legs but doesn't bother elsewhere."
"So why dinna ya get them fix your own self?" she asked rudely earning another look from both Leanne and Niamh this time.
"I suppose I could have," I nodded. "But cosmetic surgery can be kind of expensive and..." I shrugged, "They're a part of me now; I don't even think of them."
"Quite a wreck there, right good for scaring the wee ones into shitting their nappies though," she chuckled.
"Rachael, that'll be quite enough," Niamh hissed.
"What?" Rachael turned to her sister in surprise.
"It's all right, ladies," I tried to soothe. "It can be a bit unnerving to someone who's not used to seeing something like this."
"Unnerving is right," Leanne said turning back to me. "Yer cut like a damn Greek statue," she said running one fingernail over my chest which caused interesting shivers throughout my body. After that I thought I heard her mumble something like, " ... poor bugger never stood a chance," but I wasn't really sure and the other girls came back in with my shirt before I could ask what she meant.
"All spiffy," Shauna announced happily holding up my shirt. The sleeve was still slightly damp where it had been rinsed but completely bloodless which wasn't a surprise; you have to really work to stain these fabrics.
"Thanks," I muttered taking it from her and quickly putting it on. I have no idea what could have been so interesting about seeing someone putting on a shirt but for some reason I seemed to be the center of attention.
"Ryan," I said trying to defect some of this unwarranted attention, "until further notice all personnel not directly related to the band or getting ready for the concert are no longer authorized entry to the premises. Anyone wishing an exception must go through me first. Understood?"
"Aye, sirrah, very clear," Magaoidh said easily. Turning to Corporal Caoimh he continued, "Caoimh, take the lads and make a sweep of the area. Put any rubbish out where needed."
"Colour Sergeant," Brian nodded and waved for Mac and Faolain to follow him as he headed towards the door.
"So yer going to lock us away and keep us from our friends?" Rachael demanded.
"Not at all," I responded coolly staring her right in the eyes. "But this won't happen again. You have someone you want to bring to see your practice I have no problem with that; but I want to know about it and vet them myself before they're inside our perimeter."
"That's shit!" she complained. "Who died and made you God?"
"It's my job, miss," I said evenly. "If you feel it's too restrictive you are perfectly welcome to see Mr. Camberge about it. If he feels it is appropriate, he can always replace me with someone else."
"Back down, Rache," Shauna said with a frown. "If the man can keep the wankers out 'o here ah'm all fer it."
"Aye, we got to pull our socks up and get on with it," Leanne agreed. "We'll be moving to the stage tomorrow anyway." She glanced at me and smiled impishly before moving towards her instruments. "Besides its nice having someone looking out fer our backsides for a change instead of just staring at 'em." I'm afraid I wanted to do that too but I wasn't about to say so.
"Well, it's bollicks if you ask me," Rachael pouted.
"Well, we didn't now did we?," Niamh snapped. "We got work to do so stop yer codding and let's be at it."
Leaning towards Rachael I said softly, "I'll try not to restrict access for your friends too much. If you want people in during your rehearsal or even backstage during the show we'll work something out. I just want to see them before hand."
"Fuck off, jackboot," she hissed.
So much for winning friends and influencing people.
The next day was the official kickoff of the tour. The roadies had spent most of the night and morning moving and setting up the stage and sound equipment for the show that was scheduled to start at 2000 hours. Caoimh had been up most of the night observing the move. No, we weren't really worried about someone planting a bomb in any of the equipment but I figured so long as someone had to watch them why not a combat engineer whose specialty was making things go boom and turning big things into tiny little ones?
I had been down at the local national police headquarters picking up my pistol which wasn't as easy as I'd hoped. It took hours convincing the local chief that all the proper approvals had indeed been signed and I still wasn't sure until I got my piece in hand that I was going to get it. He was a big fat fucker who I was pretty damn sure hadn't been one of the Irish volunteers. Our mutual antipathy was fairly evident from the moment we laid eyes on each other and it went downhill from there. I'd like to think his dislike was for all things military in general and not just for my own baby blues but truthfully it didn't matter. I was finally able to convince him that all required signatures were indeed there and that I hadn't forged them. What a tool. Then there was the desk officer assigned to actually find and issue my weapon. She was young as they come, cute as a puppy and dumb as a box of rocks. If this was the best the Irish police had then I can understand why Camberge wasn't overly confidant about their ability to protect the girls. Truthfully, I'm surprised they managed to find their way home every night.
Anyway I was finally packing and feeling somewhat less naked with my 5mm tucked against the small of my back. I know a lot of officers tended to use the 2mm because it's lighter and easier to conceal but I've found that when you're slugging it out face to face even light body armor shrugs off a 2mm. You had to be really damn good to take someone wearing body armor with a 2mm and while I'm a decent shot in the furball of combat I wanted something big enough just in case "decent" wasn't good enough. As far as I'm concerned when it comes to the down and dirty, the term "excessive force" is redundant. Actually my personal favorite when going into combat was a 5mm submachine gun. It uses the same round as the 5mm pistol but can spew out about 500 rounds in about thirty seconds. When you're going door to door rooting out the bad guys, the only thing better is a fragmentation grenade; I used to carry those too. Yeah I know officers aren't supposed to do entry work but when you're shorthanded and everything is going to shit sometimes you got to do what you got to do. Just to let you know, we were always shorthanded and everything going to shit was just standard operating procedure. I'd done more entry work than I'd care to remember.
We were trying to settle into the standard schedule for a touring band which was new to me. Equipment set up by noon; break for lunch; sound checks at 1300 and full rehearsal at 1400. It was all new to me but everything seemed to go smoothly. I didn't realize that bands didn't play just one show each night; they played two: the real show and the rehearsal. They did everything in rehearsal just like the actual show except without costumes. That's a hell of a lot of work in one day. They had some local band playing warm up and although I generally avoid disparaging remarks about others, I got the feeling most of their talent came from their volume and not their ability.
For the most part everything was going smoothly which for someone who believes wholeheartedly in the power of positive pessimism is a bit worrisome. Yeah, go ahead and call me a grump but I've found a pessimist can never be disappointed and is often pleasantly surprised but an optimist is disappointed at least half the time. Besides someone who assumes and plans for the worst is caught with his pants down at the most inconvenient times far less often then someone who blissfully hopes everything is going along just fine. I'd rather be a live party-pooper than a dead life of the party anytime.
Oh speaking of worrisome did I mention I had a visitor that night before the concert? No? Well I did. It was about 2200 and I was getting ready to make one final round of the hotel before hitting the rack when I heard the door signal a visitor. Surprised but not overly worried ― I hadn't heard an alert from the duty watch ― I opened the door. It was Leanne.
"Hi there!" she said brightly and popped into my room ducking under the arm that was holding the door open. "Just thought ah'd roll by and see that yer doing well."
"Ah, well, yes, I'm doing just fine, thank you," I stuttered. "But aren't I supposed to be the one making sure you are all right?"
"Ah piff," she waved her hand and flopped down on the small couch stretching her legs out and resting them on the table in front of it. Did I mention she was wearing tiny little silky shorts, a crop top and apparently nothing else other than a pair of flip-flops that she'd kicked off. The sight was ... distracting to say the least. I think I've said before she's short but perfectly proportioned for her size with light brown skin, long coal-black hair pulled back in a pony-tail and that touch of the exotic Eurasians so often have. Her bust wasn't enormous; like I said she was perfectly proportioned, but with that top there was no doubt there was more than just a handful under it. But those legs ... My God! They looked like they were 90 percent of her body and couldn't have been more perfect. Now tits are nice and I have nothing against them but what has always attracted me to women has been their eyes first (really, I'm not kidding here!) legs second and then the ass; the size of the breasts comes in a distant fourth. In other words this young woman pushed just about every button I had. I try to be the best professional I can be but I'm only human and underneath my cool, detached exterior was the wolf howling, panting and drooling, whimpering to be let out to play. That's why it was worrisome.
"Ah'm fine, everybody's fine; in fact ah think even Rache is back in already," she continued. This I knew. Faolain had already reported they were in and tucked away. Whellan had the Rachael duty that night since Mac hadn't done anything to piss me off all day.
"So I've heard," I said pointedly leaving the door open then walked over to sit in a chair across from her. "So to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"Just bored and can't sleep," she said lifting one leg as if to examine it. My blood pressure just about doubled but of course I didn't let it show. "Ah get wired the night before a concert," she continued, "and you did say we could drop by and see ya anytime."
"I'm pretty sure that was more for if you were scared or needed a place to hide," I chuckled. "But you're perfectly welcome to hang out here if you like."
"Kold," she grinned. "Mr. Magaoidh told us we should get to know the people who are protecting us so ah be thinking now is a good a time as any."
"He did? I don't remember that," I admitted.
"Oh it was while you were instructing randy Randy on proper manners," she giggled. "That put Rache's knickers in a bit of a bunch for sure and you can bet Connor's mob'll be a damn sight more respectful, if they even have the clackers to show their faces, that is."
"I'm not sure what you mean," I said slowly. "I just explained to Randy his behavior wasn't acceptable, nothing more."
She looked at me for a moment and then started laughing. "Oh Jaysus, they didn't tell you?" My lack of comprehension must have shown because she started laughing again causing various parts of her body to shake and shimmy in a delightfully distracting way. When she calmed down a little she wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled when she caught me looking at her ... well, everything.
"They didn't? That's rich!" she grinned and I felt grateful she was ignoring my lecherous glances. Yeah, I'm only human but I should be better than that. Still grinning she flipped over on her stomach as her legs waved in the air; I do believe the vixen was taunting me!
"We saw it all," she continued. "Well, we saw the end result, right enough; none of us were really sure what actually happened other than the big tool took after ya with your back turned and you put a boxing on 'is arse he won't soon forget."
"You saw that?" I groaned. "Oh, shit."
"No, it was fair play," she said sitting up suddenly. "What you did for Em was grand! She's a timid little thing and though Shauna does her best, she's not much more than a wee thing herself fer all her bluster. Em's been dancing ever since; thought fer sure her face would break from the smile and as fer Rache..." she chuckled. "Well it's a good thing she learn the man she be shitting on can take 'er across his knee and stripe her arse a good one if need be."
"That's not in the job description," I muttered.
"Maybe not," she laughed, "but no need to be telling her that, now is there?"
"Well..." I started.
"Enough of the Queen of England," she grinned. "Ah come over to find out about my man here."
"Not a whole lot to tell," I shrugged. But I'll be damned if she didn't weasel a hell of a lot out more than I'd really intended to tell anyone. I guess I just have trouble saying no to a pretty girl.
"So no wife or molly of yer own?" she asked once. "Ah not be understanding that."
"Not now," I replied shaking my head. "To tell the truth the last couple of relationships haven't turned out so well." I had to continue when she cocked her head and just stared at me. "My last few, mmm, girlfriends have been a lot like Rachael," I finally admitted. "Pretty, but we just didn't mesh too well. I guess they were a bit on the domineering side and we'd just end up arguing all the time. It's a flaw in my character, I know," I shrugged, "but I don't do well being screamed at in public."
"Well of course not," she scoffed. "A woman leads her man from his side or behind their own doors, not from in front."
"I suppose that would work," I laughed.
"Tis nature," she nodded solemnly, "and not to be fooled with." She paused for a moment and looked to the side and said softly, "Of course there are some that need to be doing a bit of screaming public or otherwise."
"What?" I asked but she just smiled sadly and shook her head.
Anyway we talked about a lot of things that night and I suppose if I tried I could remember most of them but it really wasn't important. The fact was I felt much more comfortable with the little china doll than I should have and it was after midnight when she finally decided it was time to go to bed.
"Now ah guess you'll be looking at my legs again won't ya?" she asked saucily over her shoulder as she walked towards the open door.
"I'll try not to," I sighed. "But it's not easy."
"Oh I don't mind yer looking," she grinned. "A girl likes to be appreciated now and then without a bloke drooling all over his blouse, or hers. You have me permission to look all you want."
"Thank you, but I will try to be discreet about it," I grimaced.
"Try or not, it's no different to me," she smiled and wiggled her bottom before giggling and scampering out into the hall.
I sighed as I closed the door wondering what in the hell I was getting myself into.
"Colour Sergeant," MacGiolla Phadraig called out as he watched the monitor. "That little fine one, the Asian lass..."
"Miss Leanne," Magaoidh nodded.
"Yes, Colour Sergeant, Miss Leanne," Mac corrected himself. "She just came out of the major's room."
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