Fourth Vector Ch. 44

"So what's our strength right now?" asked Jack. "Give me an estimation, I don't need the exact figure."

"At just about any time, the Galician Army always has forty regiments of infantry available," explained Lindy. "That's thirty-four infantry regiments, like the 7th, as well as five regiments of marines, and one regiment of guards for Kalmar and the Castle."

"And if we take forty regiments of approximately one thousand men and officers apiece, we get an army the size of about forty thousand, correct?" asked Jack.

"Correct, if we were at full strength," added Lindy.

"So what's our current strength?"

Greg flinched. "We're about thirty-two thousand in total. A considerable gap."

Jack's eyebrows raised. "That's telling me we're missing one-fifth of our overall strength. That's a larger gap than I expected."

"Unfortunately, our recruitment drives haven't been as bountiful as we expected," said Lindy while shaking his head. "Men aren't signing up for the same promises of payment and action as they were before."

"Why is that?" asked Jack.

"I have my theory," said Greg. "And it's that with the Swabians, the Galician people actually knew who they were fighting--their ancient enemy. The same enemy they'd fought for two thousand years, and one that was usually up to no good. You can't throw a rock anywhere in Kalmar without hitting someone who hates the Swabians by instinct, but by comparison, a war against the Javans is likely to earn the same response from any Galician."

"And that response is--who?" finished Lindy. "Many of them know nothing about Java nor why we're at war with them. About the only thing they know is what you've told them, Jack. And while that's been enough to get some recruits into the army, it's not enough to fill all the open ranks."

"So what are we doing about it?" asked Jack. "We set sail for Picardy in a few days. Are we consigned to leave with only four-fifths of our army?"

Both Greg and Lindy shared a look. "I think that's exactly what we have to do, Jack. There's no way we can train the men in time. We could offer some basic level of training once we got to Zarah if the recruits signed on before we left but that would be the best case scenario."

"And that's still questioning how we get them there in the first place," added Lindy. "Especially without resorting to conscription, which is sure to be unpopular with the general population."

That was quite the understatement. Conscription was something that had been relegated to the Swabian sphere of influence. There wasn't a single other Western country who resorted to forcing men into the army, with just about all of them relying on volunteer forces.

The main problem with that, and the one they were seeing now, is what to do when volunteers aren't enough?

How could Jack get as many men as possible to the fight with Java?

"Let's backup for a second," said Jack as he rubbed his eyes. "We have approximately thirty-two thousand men, correct? And our transport capacity is roughly seventy thousand based upon the latest numbers I've seen from Russ. Now, I'm expecting that our force is going to make up more than half of the contribution for the new Allied Army, and we're struggling to even get to half. That's not counting the men we have to leave behind for basic defense of Galicia while we're gone, which should be in the neighborhood of five thousand men. That means our force is going to set sail from Kalmar with only twenty-seven thousand. That's not going to fly when I get to Zarah and talk with the other heads of state."

Greg separated his hands. "What would you like us to do, Jack? We're not exactly working with a lot of time here."

"We're going to sorely miss those thirteen thousand men when the time comes," said Jack as he shook his head. "There must be another way."

"We're open to suggestions, Jack," said Lindy helplessly. "But we can't make people sign up for the army."

Jack took a moment to think through the issue. He could understand why the furor to join the war wasn't as strong in this war as it was in the last, since many of the ordinary Galicians didn't understand that Bancroft would eventually make them nothing more than slaves. How could he make them see with as little time as they had left?

Was this something that an extra payment could settle?

"What's the average daily wage of a soldier in my army?" asked Jack. "What's the exact figure?"

"We don't work on daily figures but they get paid by the week," explained Lindy. "A weeks' worth of service is worth four silver pieces."

"Nothing to sneeze at exactly," replied Jack. "That's not bad."

"It was one of the last things that Eric Rosdahl did before he died," said Lindy. "I imagine he was having a similar problem getting men to fight against their own king."

"Noted," said Jack. "Well, I may come to regret this but we don't have any other choices. Let's raise the wage."

Lindy gave him a funny look. "Jack?"

"Move it up to five silver pieces a week," said Jack. "The treasury can handle it and we'll do it for the duration of the war. After the war is over, we can go back to four, but let's get the word out and see how many more men we can sign on."

"Isn't that being a little rash, Jack?" asked Greg. "That's a substantial increase to the men. Can we really handle it long term?"

Jack nodded. "We should be able to sustain it. Money has been flowing into the treasury ever since Kalmar was rebuilt. The economy has been on war footing for months now and we're in better shape now than in any time since I became king. It's only a temporary measure but one that we need to do to get the troop levels we have to maintain."

Lindy looked at Greg and then back at Jack. "I'll get the word out if I have your commitment. I'm sure there will be plenty of young men who only see the lure of gold and not the service that comes with it."

"Those will be the first men that get washed out of training," remarked Jack. "We can make arrangements to ship them back to Galicia when this is all over, but those that do stay can start their training the moment we get to Zarah. Sound like a plan?"

Lindy pursed his lips and started to nod. "I think that will work. It might not get us to half, but we'll get a lot closer than we were before."

"It should work," replied Greg. "As long as we start now. We're going to have to cast a wide net, and we'll still be mostly dealing with recruits from Kalmar."

"Let's get moving then," said Jack. "Greg, come with me back to the Castle. We'll have to let the council know about the army's raise."

Greg gave him a startled look. "Am I going to have to be the one to explain it to them?"

Jack chuckled. "No, but you're my backup in case they start giving me too much shit about reckless spending."

The two men bid their goodbye to Lindy and started on their way back to the Castle a moment later.

"I have to say that you're taking the news about the recruitment better than I thought you would," noted Greg as they made their way through Kalmar. "I figured you'd be more pissed than you seem to be."

Jack shrugged. "I hate to tell you this but I already knew about it. I monitor those figures even closer than Lindy does. Even better than that, I've already got approval from the treasury to do the pay increase this morning."

Greg nearly stopped walking to gawk at Jack. "You already knew?"

Jack grinned. "Bill taught me a long time ago it pays to keep your thumb on the pulse of just about every facet when it comes to running a country. The army is one of the most important symbols of our rule. I have to know what's going on."

"So, that confuses me a little, Jack. If you knew what was going on, why didn't you step in before today to get recruitment numbers up? We could have offered that pay raise weeks ago, depending on if you knew back then."

"I only found out a couple weeks ago," said Jack. "By that point, it's almost too late to do anything but it did give me time to find a new source for additional troop strength. Yes, I'm going to let the raise in payment bring in as many men as it can, but we need much more men than that could possibly bring in. That's why I had to look elsewhere."

Greg looked over at him again. "So where's this new source of troops going to come from? Apulia? It seems like Santino has been working hard to get the Apulian Army back up to its traditional size and strength."

"You'll see soon," replied Jack cryptically.

"For some reason, I don't like the sounds of that."

Jack chuckled. "Just trust me, my old friend. I have a plan."

"Yeah, that's the part that worries me," said Greg dryly.

Jack elbowed the other man in the ribs, causing Greg to do the same.

"So I don't get it then," said Greg after a moment of silence. "If you don't need me to back you up to the rest of the council about the pay increase, what was the point of stealing me away?"

"Mostly, I just wanted to talk to you about Lindy," replied Jack. "And I really didn't want to do it in front of him."

"Why, is there something wrong with him?" asked Greg. "Something I should know about?"

Jack shook his head. "No, no, no, I wanted to ask about your partnership with him and how it's been coming along. He's been your number two man in the Galician Army now for about eight months since Art died. I know that Art was very much a mentor to you when you performed the same task that Lindy now does for you. My question is how is the partnership between you two?"

"Honestly, Jack, I couldn't ask for a better man to help me run the army," said Greg. "What I like about Lindy is that he's a fighter first but he's also good with numbers. He keeps the army running in top shape, allowing me to deal with big picture items. What's more, I know that he can fight like a devil when the moment calls for it. You don't find many senior officers who have a knack for doing both."

"No, you really don't," said Jack. "So you're comfortable with Lindy?"

"I really am, Jack. What I also like about him is that he knows the Galician Army much better than I do. There are many places where I'm still familiar with what worked in Java, or the rules that we had in our armed forces. There's been some areas where I've chafed a few collars, but Lindy has helped me mend fences when the situation calls for it. I don't know where I'd be without him."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," said a relieved Jack. "Neither of you are likely to talk about the other man in a professional capacity, but I think that's more about you two working seamlessly together that there's really nothing to talk about unless I pry. My hope is that you're as much a mentor to him as Art was to you."

Greg smirked. "Even though he's got like five years on me? Not much of a mentor to a man older than me."

"You'd be surprised," said Jack with a serious look. "There's not a man in the entire army that doesn't appreciate the experience that you bring to it, Greg. You've been in near continuous fighting for just about the entire time you've been a marine. You have a lot to give these men, and they recognize it."

"Well, that's a comforting thought," said Greg as they reached the Castle's doors. "At least I know they won't frag me just because I was born Javan."

Jack started to chuckle. "I think they'd sooner do it to me than to you!"

*****

"So what do you think? Do you want to see how deep this goes?"

It was the one question that Michael struggled to answer. Mostly, he struggled because he wanted to ask why now? What was so different about him now that he was finally ready to see the inner circle?

After all, it had been nearly six months since he'd met Victor Nichols. It was only a drunken encounter in some seedy watering hole that led to the two men sharing space at the bar. It wasn't much longer after that Victor saved Michael's skin, pulling him away from two of Bancroft's agents when Michael had used some more colorful language in describing Java's emperor.

Since that time, Victor had simultaneously embraced him and kept him at arm's length. Victor had given Michael a place to stay--a tiny, dank one bedroom on the outskirts of the city where he could keep plenty of distance between himself and any of Bancroft's men. Victor kept him plied with food and water, and even invited him on jobs to make some coin. Mostly, those opportunities were your entry level robberies or ambushes of Javan soldiers. No one seemed to notice if one or two went missing over the course of the week, but it was enough to keep Michael temporarily satisfied that he was striking back at the system that had stolen everything from him.

But he wanted more. He wanted to make bigger waves on Bancroft's regime. He wanted to target larger bodies of troops, and he wanted to create chaos and destruction. However, whomever Victor was working for wasn't in a hurry to meet Michael.

Perhaps they wanted to see the depths of his resolve before they unveiled themselves. Perhaps this was their way of testing him to see if he was indeed worthy.

The thought had even occurred to him that they were testing to see just how much of a Bainbridge he was, if he would give in to the bloodthirst that his family was known for.

In that avenue, Michael didn't disappoint. Every time he found himself hovering over the body of another Javan, he pictured Bancroft's face as he plunged the knife into their chest. And every night when he went to sleep, it was still Jade's face that he saw right before he lost consciousness.

The passage of time had done little to calm her memory. Even though the only thing Michael had of hers was her memory, he found the picture he saw internally was starting to fray with time.

What hadn't frayed was his passion to avenge her. And now, after six months of begging to do more, Victor had finally surprised him and asked the faithful question.

"Are you sure you want to see how deep this goes?" he repeated, giving Michael a hollow look. "There's no going back if you say yes. You're in this for life. My friends become your friends and my enemies become yours too."

"Why not?" asked Michael, still in a state of shock. "I've been begging you about this for months, pleading with you to let me get deeper into your organization. Why now?"

"We don't just let anyone join our ranks," said Victor quietly.

"Even those with famous last names?" asked Michael.

Victor pursed his lips. "Especially those with famous last names. Our organization is hunted by the regime in power. One slip in security, one break in our attention to detail could spell the doom of all of us. I had to be sure you could be trusted. I had to watch how you treated these last six months."

"Did I spill enough blood for you?" asked Michael sarcastically. "Or do I need to kill more Javan soldiers?"

Victor ignored the sarcasm. "You may think that your lust for vengeance gives you power right now but it's a weakness that you can't afford when you're in our organization. Your blindness to anything but revenge will get you killed one day if you don't learn to control it."

"So you've told me before," said Michael nonchalantly. The truth was that Victor had told him this at least twenty times in the past few months. Victor had the benefit of age and experience to help temper his rage, but to Michael, there was no fate worse than losing his first love.

"And I'll keep telling you until the message sinks in," said Victor, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "For the record, it was my advice to our leader that you needed more time. That you weren't ready for this meeting today. That you still needed to prove yourself. It was he that overruled me, saying that he wanted to meet you anyway. So here we are."

"I'm not as single-minded as you think I am, Victor," said Michael. "I know my limits. I know what I can and can't do. There's a reason the men of the Javan garrison now fear walking through this neighborhood late at night. I can channel my rage into productive purposes, and I'm ready to take on more of a role in this organization. Jade would have wanted that."

Victor shook his head. "Your woman would have wanted you to become a rebel and a killer? Don't fool yourself, Michael. She would have wanted you to become a husband and a father. Do you think my mother or my sister would be happy with my life choices if they could see all the blood on my hands? We do what is necessary, nothing more."

"I think my woman would have been happy to see me get my revenge on her killer," said Michael haughtily.

"Your woman, if she were alive, would have wanted you to come away from this life," corrected Victor. "This is part of the reason why I don't think you're ready yet."

"I am ready," argued Michael, his tone of voice rising. "And I'm ready to meet this man, your leader. And I'm ready to show him that I can be trusted."

Victor studied him for a moment before he moved closer to the door of Michael's tiny apartment. He cracked the handle for a moment and looked outside, his eyes going toward the sky before closing it once more.

"We must wait for it to get darker still," said Victor, turning his attention back to Michael. "The inner council doesn't meet until the street lights come on. We still have some time."

Michael had so many questions he wanted to ask. Just who was in this inner council? How long had they been operating? What were their plans? How were they going to remove Bancroft from power?

And lastly, how could he prove himself to them that he could help achieve their goals?

But he knew better than to pester Victor with such questions. Victor had no answers, at least not for Michael. His favorite saying was that Michael would find out when the timing was right, whatever that meant.

And so, Michael had fiddled away these last six months, proving himself to observers from the shadows until this very moment. Now that he was deemed ready by their leader, just how deep did this organization go?

"You're wondering about us, aren't you?"

Michael looked over to see Victor's eyes glued to him. "What?"

Victor took a step closer. "You're wondering about what our true purpose is," he said. "You're wondering what gives us the right to demand a six-month trial by fire for you when your passion burns this intensely. When you meet our leader, you will understand. He knows his share of personal loss, just like you and I. He's a brilliant man, one that started our organization and found the first of us. We all shared the same thing in common--the thirst for revenge. He took that thirst and molded it from raw passion into something resembling discipline. Under his leadership, we've thrived, creating new members and making our purpose known to those in Belfort. We are all dedicated to one singular goal."

"The destruction of Bancroft," whispered Michael hollowly.

Victor nodded his head. "You will see tonight. You will see why I made you wait as long as I did. You will also see the reason why I'm admitting you to the inner circle tonight. Most of our numbers will never get such opportunity but there's more to you than that, Michael. You have skill and you have passion. Once we can temper this rage, you'll be a leader of this organization one day."

Victor jammed his finger in Michael's chest. "But first, we have to control the fire."

Michael thought that Victor was going to take the time to go into another lecture but the older man surprised him by walking across the floor to the door once more. As he opened it to the street, a soft yellow light entered the apartment.

"Come on, the streetlights are on," said Victor. "Let's get moving."

The two men left Michael's apartment shortly after. Michael's apartment was one of the few that got the light of the singular street lamp perched only twenty feet from his door. Nearly the rest of the street was still bathed in darkness, a sign of the neighborhood's poverty more than anything else.