Chapter 6

So anyway after that just about every night my room or wherever I happen to be became the resident flop house for eighty percent of the band. They loved my collection of old 2-D "Pictures" as they called them. That didn't surprise me that much; most people today haven't seen one of the old flicks, they're not standard fare on the vid channels and until they've seen one they probably think they're all boring and flat. Flat they may be and not really suited for viewing in a holo-tank (I happen to know how you can adjust the tanks to make them look much better) but boring they ain't. Most people find they actually like something with a storyline and characters they can identify with. My girls were no exception and continuously perused my library.

What I didn't expect was that they would find my music library so damned interesting. I think I've mentioned before that my tastes are a bit ... eclectic. Most of my collection is prewar and even pre-turn of the century. It's a stereotype, I'll admit ― but one that seems to hold some truth ― that vets favor good old rock and roll from the later half of the last century on into the beginning of the new one. I'm not saying I dislike it ― in fact some of it I really enjoy ― but my tastes stray off the path a little.

A lot of what I have I ripped (transferred) from old digital disks my parents had and even some vinyl analog ones. Most of these artists' work never made it into the new formats, at least from what I could find, so although I doubt that I have anything that is really unique it certainly isn't in the popular public domain. So many of them: Mckennitt, Yani, a traveling troupe titled The Celtic Woman, and so on, names that are probably still familiar to music historians but totally unknown to the average Jack or Jill you'd meet on the street. We lost a lot during the war but maybe the real reason was because we have so much now to choose from. I get the feeling that most people are so used to being told what is good and what they should like, they don't bother to find these things for themselves.

But I digress. For whatever reason I happen to have had on Loreena McKennitt's An Ancient Muse compilation (they called them albums back then) while I was working on my mail and a sitrep (Situation Report) for Camberge when one of my favorites, Caravanserai, queued up. I have to admit I was zeroed out there for a moment just letting the music flow through me flushing away most conscious thought when just before the main part of the song started I heard Leanne behind me asking, "This is interesting. Who is it? Did you pick this up in the east during the war?" I turned around and all four of the girls were standing there listening intently.

"Actually it's a lot older than that," I answered just as the drums started thrumming and the entire band kicked in and Loreena's sweet, pure voice began the opening lyrics. Niamh's head was bobbing; Eimile's eyes were closed and she looked like, well, probably what I had looked like. Shauna was softly swaying from side to side as her fingers moved on imaginary instruments most likely her body trying to play along as the music flowed. Leanne was rigid like a bird dog on point but her eyes were open and clear as she hungrily stared at the source of the sound, the holo-tank.

"'Tis beautiful," Eimile sighed with her eyes still closed. Suddenly they popped open and she looked at me. "Is she Irish?" I could understand the question; you can hear a soft lilt in McKennitt's voice that does make her sound like she's Celtic.

"Actually she was NorAm Canadian I think," I replied. "She's been dead now for more than twenty years. This recording is about fifty years old."

"But the music, it sounds ... eastern," Leanne stated looking at me like she thought I was pulling their legs.

"This comp does," I nodded. "Most of her other work has more of a Celtic flavor; others..." I waved my hand, "I can't really tell you what it sounds like."

"She played Irish?" Leanne demanded.

"I think they called it Celtic and not just Irish," I chuckled. "But I'm not going to argue with the experts. Do you have your pers-comp? I'll give you access to my library and you can listen to any of it you'd like." Leanne dashed over to one of her bags and quickly pulled out her own pers-comp. I'm not sure how much of her gear was in my room and how much was still in the room she "shared" with Niamh but as the days went by it seemed like more of it was here rather than there. She opened it up and I quickly granted her the necessary access to my music; I even queued up She Moved Through the Fair to start up after Caravanserai ended.

"Eww, I've heard that one before," Shauna exclaimed when it started. "But not like that!" There was a flurry of activity as three girls raced out of the room and almost as quickly returned, demanding to be given access to this marvelous new/old music and much to my chagrin I was pushed out of my seat and completely ignored.

I watched as they huddled around on the couch and floor chattering like a bunch of three year-olds opening birthday gifts. "This one!" "No, listen to this riff!" "Where did he find that!" I finally announced that I was going to make a tour of the area and Leanne absently fluttered her fingers at me as Niamh glanced up and smiled although I'm not sure she really saw me.

I did not pout even though it appeared I was being tossed aside like yesterdays laundry; really I didn't, I just had work to do. I was a grown man and grown men do not pout!

When I returned I was greeted with pretty much the same enthusiasm that my departure had invoked: namely none. The giddy euphoria was gone though; in it's place were four very serious young ladies scribbling notes, listening as one or another pointed something out or asking out loud, "What is that they be playing?"

"She'll never let us play that," Shauna said once.

"Why not?" Leanne demanded. "We're all equals here; she's got no more say then any of us!"

"Wouldn't sound right with her voice; she'll never do it."

"Then we'll just play fer ourselves," Leanne huffed and they started squabbling.

"It's late," I announced loudly. They all looked up at me like children told to go to bed on Christmas Eve. "You have a concert tomorrow and some of us need our sleep." I started to get the pouty faces so I told them if they wanted to continue they could go to someone else's room. That got them to break it up finally.

Leanne was practically vibrating when we got into bed. She kept babbling about this song or that one and how they could make it sound different until I finally had to kiss her to shut her up. She struggled a little but I held her down until she finally sighed and relaxed. Or so I thought; suddenly all that energy and enthusiasm was transferred from music to sex and for a while there I was thinking I'd have been much better off if I'd just let her talk and put some earplugs in. Let me tell you she just about wore this old solider out! She fell asleep on top of me and neither one of us moved until the next morning.

And that's the way it was for the next few weeks. Well, not that bad. Sure they still spent plenty of time listening, discussing and practicing. They had these little portable instruments they could practice with just about everywhere; to me they looked like toys until I find out how much they cost. Pretty expensive fucking toys, let me tell you! From what I was told they weren't the same as playing the regular instruments like they had on stage or in a studio but it was close. They let me listen to one of the songs they were working on and it sounded damn good to me. It was a cut that I particularly liked and it sounded both very familiar and totally different; it was eerie.

I never did get back to being the center of feminine attention after that; not that I needed it of course. Lone wolf, that's me. Man on the edge and needing no company ... Actually in spite of all the whining I did, luckily most of it to myself, there were very few times that I didn't have at least one or two of them attached to my side like a tumor. Leanne was there most of the time, of course. We'd had a number of little and not so little talks and while I won't go into that right here, suffice it to say I was looking forward to the end of the tour. We were very comfortable with each other and seemed to fit together like we were a matched set.

The funny thing was while Leanne occupied my side just like she belonged, Niamh more often than not was on my other. I would have had to be a complete idiot or the most insensitive buffoon alive not to have felt the sexual tension between us but I can guarantee absolutely nothing happened between us. There was lot of touching, mostly from her side since I still didn't feel overly comfortable with it even though when I mentioned it to Leanne she just laughed it off. It was her opinion Niamh need the attention and had been starved for affection for far too long. So long as it was her bed (my bed?) I ended up in at night she encouraged me to tease and flirt with Niamh all that she wanted. My opinion was this was like playing with fire but I was scoffed at and unfairly derided as being afraid of a little girl. When I pointed out Niamh was no little girl but a very big beautiful woman, it got even worse.

"So yer hot fer me cousin are ya?" she whispered gleefully one night while we were in bed.

I was trying to point out the obvious silliness of such a thought but that any normal human male (not me, I'm well above such things) might find a tall woman with long red hair, large breasts, beautifully trim legs and an ass that wouldn't stop, rubbing up against him contentiously a bit arousing. It's biological ― can't be helped.

"Ah don't care if she makes ya stiffer than a dead cat," she growled. "She can tease ya up all she wants, ah get to reap the reward," she said right before she sat down on my fully erect cock. Then she proceeded to explain that she didn't give a rat's arse who gave me the stiffy so long as she got to play with it; all this while moving her own cute little butt up and down at about 10,000 RPM. I was beginning to get the idea that the thought of her cousin playing footsie with me got my little Asian jewel just a little bit excited.

This worked for me. I don't know if it was all that fair to Niamh but I tried to put that out of my mind since she seemed to be the "aggressor" most of the time. She was a big girl and knew the score between Leanne and myself and if she wanted to work herself up for nothing, that was her business. She knew she was perfectly safe; not only would I never do anything with a married woman no matter how bad her marriage was but I'd never do anything to hurt Leanne. Besides, the flirting was fun and she did have one hell of a body!

The other funny thing was that then Leanne and Niamh weren't doing their best to torture me, Shauna and Eimile were there doing it for them. That's not really true I suppose; there was nowhere near the same sexual tension when they were next to me although there was enough. It seems their favorite thing in the whole world next to making music or playing bedroom games with each other was watching my old movies with one of them on each side of me. Usually they just rested their heads on my shoulders and held hands across my lap but there were times; like during a particularly romantic scene when they'd lean across me and begin going at it like two little bunny rabbits.

Now on one hand I was proud that they thought enough of me to feel comfortable about demonstrating their affection in my presence, but give me a fucking break... ! Do you know what it does to a guy's libido to have two beautiful young women sitting in his lap not only sucking on each others tongues but having their hands doing nasty, naughty things to each other? I had to threaten to break out a fire hose more than once.

Even worse, after I'd threaten them with the hose or dumping them into a cold shower, they'd giggle and start in on me! They'd nibble my ears, suck on my neck and run those naughty little fingers up and down my chest ... Leanne paid them to do it; I was never able to prove that but I know she did. I remember her mumbling that she had to thank them after one particularly rambunctious night as she lay there in bed grinning like an idiot at the ceiling. I warned her one day her little games were going to come back and bite her on the ass but she just grinned wider. Evil woman! Hell, evil women; a redundant term if I've ever heard one!

So anyway I was making one colour sergeant very happy by occupying four fifths of our charges most of the time. Did I even get a thank you? Not that I can remember.

For the most part everything was going pretty smoothly which was great in most ways but kind of worried me in others. Sure there's the natural pessimism of a man who knows from experience that Karma is one motherfucking bitch and everything always tends to balance out. Anytime things are going too well you just know the Fuckup Fairy is right around the corner waiting to smack you in the balls with her magic wand.

Then there was the question of so long as nothing happens how long before the promoters decide they're pouring money down a rathole in keeping security that isn't needed. You might think that after Clonakilty there wouldn't be a question about it but if you think that you don't know businessmen. With them it's all, "So, what have you done for me lately?" It hadn't happened since that night so I wouldn't put it past them to think it'll never happen again. Not that I ever heard even a hint of such from Camberge, but you never know...

That was all before we had a little incident with Rachael. Faolain was her tail that night; it was about a week before the two-week break, and we were in Omagh. Rache was out for her nightly drunk-ex (drinking exercise) and cock fights when a black van pulled up along her as she and her latest long lost love were walking down the sidewalk. Three men jumped out and after knocking down her boy-toy started dragging her towards the van. Faolain got one of them right away and seeing one of their mates splattered back against the van with two 5mm holes in his chest must have upset their plans somewhat. The other two let loose of Rachael, picked up the corpse and tossed him in the van. They sped off but not before Whellan swore he'd put three more shots into their rear window; he could see the stars they made.

The police were useless shits, of course. At first they tried to arrest Faolain and deny it had ever happened until Rachael's evening escort corroborated his story. After that they pretty much stood around and scratched their asses like the dumb fucks they were. Their conclusion was it was a few overzealous fans wanting to meet Rachael and they would interview them when they went to the hospital which they would have to, of course, if in fact one had actually been shot.

It was pure bullshit, of course. Fans don't jump out of vans and try to drag away their crushes just to meet them for one. For another, fans usually don't drive around in vans equipped with bulletproof armored windows. If Faolain had really seen his shots star the windows, and I believe him, they were armored. Regular car windows would have been shattered by a 5mm slug and it would have rattled around inside causing all kinds of hate and discontent. The bozos didn't seem to understand that either. They weren't going to find that body; these guys were pros. Luckily for Rachael they either didn't know about or didn't see the tall lanky ranger following her.

We were luckier than I had first known; Rachael hadn't been wearing her communicator/locater and if they'd gotten her in the van we would have had no fucking idea where she was. We got into one hell of a screaming match when we got back to the hotel but I have to admit at least half of my curses were meant for me for not checking regularly to make sure all of the girls were wearing them.

I suppose looking back at it, someone could say the whole pissing contest was pretty funny. There I was screaming while Rachael stuck to Faolain's side like it would take a prybar to get her away. She matched me curse for curse until I finally said, "You could have got him fucking killed!" and I pointed at Faolain. She lost it then and I noticed Magaoidh was about to say something but Faolain beat him to it.

"Now Major, that's not right, it isn't," he said firmly. "I was just doing me job and Miss Rachael wouldn't have been anymore at fault if I'd been injured then anyone of us. She wasn't doing nothing wrong or crazy like; just a normal night."

I shut up immediately. I was seething inside and wanted more than anything to slap down this silly bitch for putting herself and one of my men in mortal danger. Unfortunately I couldn't. He was right; absolutely right. I took a deep breath.

"You're right, Whellan," I said and he relaxed just a bit. I looked at Rachael. "Miss Rachael, I apologize. Whellan is absolutely correct; this was not your fault in any way shape or form. He did his job exactly as he was supposed to in a truly exemplary fashion. You did nothing to create or exacerbate the situation. With one exception you have followed our procedures as we have asked you. That exception is not a minor one but it would not have change what happened tonight at all.

"I propose we talk about that little exception tomorrow when we've both had a time to cool off and think about it. We are both not without fault in this matter," I continued.

"Fuckin' dick head," she snarled up at me.

"Now, now, Rachael," Faolain soothed. "The major was worried about you; about the both of us. He said he was sorry and makes a good point that we can talk about it in the morning. Now we should be getting you back to yer room fer the evening."

"Don't leave me alone," she wailed and I'm sure about four centimeters of her fingernails were dug into his side.

"We'll not be leaving you alone tonight, lass," he said as he guided her over to the elevators with Mac right behind, hand on his pistol trying to look everywhere at once.

Once they were gone I turned to Magaoidh and said, "My apologizes, Colour Sergeant. Faolain was absolutely correct and I was wrong."

"No apologizes needed to me, Major," he replied with a slight smile. "You admitted yer error and said it to the correct person. Accepted or not, it were well done."

"Then maybe we should get everybody else up to their beds and button everything up tight," I nodded. "We're going to need to do a thorough review of our procedures. That wasn't a couple of star-struck fans out there tonight. They meant business and it's time we really started to earn our pay."

"I've got a few ideas," he replied. "But ah think we're safe enough tonight. They'd be fools to try again after tipping their hands. Sure enough they'd be walking into a bees nest and they'd know it."