The Captain's face went red and he barked to his sergeant, "Sergeant O'Hara, prepare the men to escort these civilians from the area."
Pitt slowly turned and smiled pleasantly. "Sorry, but we're staying put."
The Captain smiled back, but his smile was scorching. "You have three minutes to leave and take that backhoe with you."
"Do you care to see papers authorizing us to be here?"
"Unless they were signed by General Chandler, you're chewing air."
"They come from a higher command than your general."
"You have three minutes," the Captain said flatly. "Then I will have you forcibly removed."
Lily, Giordino and the Admiral, who were sitting out of the sun in Trinity's borrowed Jeep Wagoneer, walked over to take in the show.
Lillie was wearing only a halter and tight shorts. She saucily paraded up and down in front of the line of soldiers.
Women who have never worked the streets as hookers cannot walk with a seductive swing and sway that appears in a natural phenomenon. They tend to exaggerate, to the point of slapstick. Lily was no exception, but the men could not have cared less. They ate up the performance.
Pitt began to tense with anger. He knew pompous people. "You have only twelve men, Captain. Twelve engineers with less than a hundred hours of combat. I have forty men behind me, any two of whom could kill your entire force in less than ten seconds with their bare hands. I'm telling you to back off."
The Captain made a casual three-hundred and sixty degree scan, but all he saw besides Pitt were Lily standing in front of the troops, a man named Sandecker, who was unconcernedly puffing a large cigar, and a man he hadn't seen before wearing an arm sling. They were both leaning against the Jeep as if they were half-asleep.
He glanced quickly at Pitt, but Pitts eyes gave no hint of emotion. He made a forward motion with his hand. "Sergeant, move people the hell out of here."
Before his men had taken two steps, Colonel Hollis seemed to appear as if by magic. The colors of his camouflaged battle fatigues and grease-blurred hands and face were incredibly faithful to the surrounding foliage. Standing less than five meters away, he blended into the underbrush nearly to the point of invisibility.
"Do we have a problem?" Hollis asked the Captain about as charitably as a sidewillder eyeing a gopher.
The Captain's mouth dropped open and his men froze in position. He took a few steps closer and gawked at Hollis more carefully, seeing no obvious sign of rank.
"Who are you?" he blurted. "What is your outfit?"
"Colonel Morton Hollis, Special Operations Forces."
"Captain Louis Cranston, sir, 486th Engineering Battalion."
Salutes were exchanged. Hollis nodded toward the line of engineers, their automatic weapons at the ready. "I think you can give the order for your men to stand at rest."
Cranston was unsure what to make of an unfamiliar colonel who appeared out of nowhere. "May I ask, Colonel, what a Special Forces officer is doing here?"
"Seeing that these people are allowed to conduct an archaeological survey without interference."
"I must remind you, sir, civilians are not permitted in a restricted military zone."
"Suppose I told you they have the authority to be here."
"Sorry, Colonel. I am under direct orders from General Chandler. He was very explicit. No one, and that includes yourself, sir, who is not a member of the battalion is to be allowed to enter-"
"Am I to understand you intend to throw me out as well?"
"If you can't present signed orders from General Chandler for your presence," Cranston said nervously, "I will obey my instructions."
"Your hardnose position won't win you any medals, Captain. I think you'd better reconsider."
Cranston knew damned well he was being toyed with and he didn't like it.
"Please, no trouble, Colonel."
"You load up your men and return to your base, and don't even think of looking back."
Pitt was enjoying the encounter, but he reluctantly turned away and climbed down into the trench. He began probing the dirt on the bottom.
Giordino and Sandecker idly strolled over to the edge and watched him.
Cranston hesitated. He was outranked, but his orders were clear, He decided his stance was firm. General Chandler would back him if there was an investigation.
But before he could order his men to clear the area, Hollis took a whistle from a pocket and blew two shrill blasts.
Like ghosts rising from the graves of a horror movie, forty forms that looked more like bushes and undergrowth than men suddenly materialized and formed a loose circle around containing Cranston and his men.
Hollis's eyes turned venomous. "Bang, you're dead."
"You called, boss?" said a bush that sounded like Dillenger.
Cranston's cockiness collapsed. "I . . . must report this . . . to General Chandler," he stammered.
"You do that," said Hollis coldly. "You can also inform him that my orders come from General Clayton Metcalf of the Joint Chiefs. This can be verified through communications to the Pentagon. These people and my team are not here to interfere with your excavation on Gongora Hill or get in the way of the General's operations along the river. Our job is to find and preserve Roman surface artifacts before they're lost or stolen. Do you'read, Captain?"
"I understand, sir," replied Cranston, gazing around uneasily at the purposeful-looking men, whose facial expressions appeared frightful under the camouflage makeup.
"Found another one!" Pitt shouted, unseen below ground.
Sandecker excitedly waved everyone to the trench. "He's got something."
The confrontation was momentarily forgotten as the Engineers and SOF men clustered around the rim of the trench. Pitt was on his hands and knees, brushing away loose dirt from a long metallic object.
In a few minutes he pulled it free and very carefully passed it up to Lily.
The flippancy was gone now as she examined the ancient relic.
"Fourth-century sword with definite Roman characteristics," she announced. "Neatly intact with little corrosion."
"May I?" asked Hollis.
She held it out to him and he gently clasped his hand around the hilt and lifted the blade above his head. "Just think," he murmured reverently, "the last man to hold this was a Roman legionary." Then he graciously passed it to Cranston. "How'd you like to fight a battle with this instead of an automatic firearm?"
"I'd prefer a bullet any day," Cranston said thoughtfully, "to being hacked to shreds."
As soon as the Engineers left on the short drive back to their encampment, Pitt turned to Hollis.
"My compliments on your camouflage. I only detected three out of your whole team."
"It was eerie," said Lily, "knowing you were all around us but not visible."
Hollis looked genuinely embarrassed. "We're more used to concealment in jungle or forest. This was a good field exercise for semi-arid terrain."
"An excellent job," added Sandecker, pumping Hollis's hand.
"Let's hope General Chandler buys the good Captain's report," said Giordino.
"If he bothers to hear it," Pitt replied. "The General's most urgent business is to stop half a million aliens from flooding across the border and grabbing the Library's art and knowledge. He doesn't have time to fool with us."