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Duvalier and Frat had joined them for the very informal meeting, as they were talking about the Kurian River Patrol on the Tennessee, who had the nearest brown-water combat craft.
Lambert started off: "Okay, to sum up, crews will be difficult but doable. It's motors and hulls that are the problem. We can't build boats, at least not in time, and we can't buy them and Southern Command, when I asked, said that all forces were allocated."
"Then we'll have to steal them," Valentine said.
Duvalier and Frat's Wolves knew the ground along the Tennessee best. Ediyak had already assembled their observations into a concise report.
"There's a cute little rest stop on the river right off the Cadiz inlet," Duvalier said.
"I think it used to be a training base, before they moved it upriver to Tennessee," Ediyak said. "According to this week-old Wolf report, there's a couple of dry-dock ships, a machine tool workshop, a little dispensary still in operation. Respite Point, they call it now. There's a couple of bars and a brothel in the old base. Very popular with the River Patrol. Not big enough for a Kurian and plenty of fun for the crew while their boats are out of the water being refitted."
"Hulls, engines, weaponry, that sort of thing?" Valentine asked.
"You bet," Frat said.
"Garrison?"
"Platoon strength, not even," Frat said. "Plus whatever of the River Patrol is in camp. The locals are very friendly to the River Patrol and would give warning of a large force."
"But a small team could make it."
"Maybe, sir. Doubt if they could hold it for long, though. Respite Point is well guarded," Frat said. "Upriver, near the Tennessee border, there's a big River Patrol base. Even if we were able to surprise them and hit it, I doubt we'd get many boats, as they'd scream off into the water as soon as the attack got rolling. Then, even nearer downriver, there's a big gun fort supporting Cadiz on the other side. Lots of mean ordnance sighted on the river, and three booms you have to weave around. The cables to pull them out of the way lead right into the fort."
"Still," Valentine said. "Might be worth a closer look. I wonder if the joyhouse lets in Kentucky men, or if they're river rat only."
Valentine noticed a ring of expectant faces. "What, you don't know?" Lambert asked.
"Why are you all looking at me? Am I supposed to be an expert on brothels?"
"You keep finding your way into them," Duvalier said. "I thought you might have patronized it. Just once I'd like to hear that you met this contact or that one at a dentist's, or a smokehouse. No, you're always emerging from a brothel, beat and bloody."
"Still, it's a possible excuse to bring a small team in. Even Bears carrying wrenches from toolboxes could probably take that place."
"There's a flaw in your plan, Val," Lambert said. "I've looked at that same location. Sure, that depot is lightly guarded. But even if we seize some boats, we'd never get them downriver. The River Patrol has a fort at Gilbertsville-a fort they've reinforced, lately, by the way, to try and cut off the Western Kentucky trails. There's a boom blocking the Tennessee at the old interstate pylons. A double boom everywhere but the gate as a matter of fact. Plus wire to stop hotshots in speedboats from doing any fancy jumps.
"It would take the whole Army of Kentucky to take that fort," Lambert continued. "And we'd probably have to haul our guns to support, and I'm not sure we have enough shells left to wreck the boom or rubble the fort."
"Do we have a sketch of the place?" Valentine asked.
"Pretty good one," Frat said.
"Put some coffee on," Valentine said. "Let's have a look."
Getting into the River Patrol base had been simple enough. It wasn't really a base. There were two lookout points and fencing built more for livestock than keeping people out. A dog patrol wandered the fence.
After spotting the dog, Valentine pulled Gamecock and his six Bears back another hundred yards.
He exhibited ID and a broken, chain-free bicycle, claimed to be a hungry communications "local support" staff working the lines running south from Cadiz, looking for a hot meal and somewhere out of the woods to sleep. And hopefully a new chain for his bike.
"Don't get your hopes up," the corporal patting him down said.
They found no weapons. They let him keep the tool belt after flashing their lights in all his pouches and feeling around. They even opened the battery shaft on his flashlight and inspected the cells within.
"You're under River Patrol jurisdiction on base," he warned Valentine. "Cause any trouble, try to steal, and we'll weigh you down with scrap and sink you in the Tennessee mud."
"Understood," Valentine said. His stomach gave a fortuitous growl.
The serious part of the security was at the dock itself, where a pair of barges were tied up next to a long dock branching out like plant roots into the river from some broken concrete steps down to the Tennessee. Above the concrete steps was a nest of fencing and barbed wire, with alert-looking RPs on anchor watch at their riverine weapons. A few more stood at the gap of the wire, smoking and talking to a sentry. A squat emplacement on the highest point of the bank with a two-barrelled antiaircraft cannon had a commanding view of all. Odd that there wasn't someone at the gun; it was in a great position to cover the river.
