Blood-Born

Chapter XIV - Parlez-Vous de Mort

"For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten."

- Ecclesiastes 9:5

Fort Danna, Wyoming

Colonel Alvin Bonnet sat wearily back in his chair and closed his eyes.

This was indeed a business that would test him to his very core.

While he flexed an arm, he worked tired fingers of one hand while the other rested around a freshly poured glass of whisky.

His dead that he had been writing reports and condolence letters about had led him to wonder if their sacrifice would bring swift justice and if so to the right people who had been involved in their demise.

Already, the initial reports from headquarters back east pushed for an all out purge of whatever Indians that could be found to be made examples of for pictures that the families could receive as token of a very bloodied vengeance on their behalf.

It would not matter which particular flavor of Indian paid as long as it was Indians that suffered; whether it was men, women or children would make little difference as long as they were Indians and they were dead.

And there was not much of a damned thing he could do stall them, other than to send out warnings through what few Indian contacts that may have even remained friendly to them and try everything that he could do within reason to slow down recovery before arms and reinforcements arrived with orders that he and his men would not be able refuse.

Blood for blood would be the reasoning behind massacres of a rudimentary people as out gunned as they would be severely out matched.

There was a double knock as Lieutenant Colonel Edwards entered to salute before he dropped two envelopes on the desk and closed the doors.

"Yet more forms, Stuart?" Bonnet sighed as he reached forward to open a flap and pulled out several sheets of folded paper.

The official header of the offices of command, United States Army, Third Division, and Second Calvary immediately captured his attention as he began to read.

Communications directly from the headquarters of the General's Secret Service were as serious as serious could get for its membership at large.

"It would appear that we may have a problem ... well make that two ... perhaps more ... than we already have had to deal with." Edwards reported while he poured himself an extended splash of whiskey and took a seat from where he watched his boss read through the pages.

"Newspaper people...?" Bonnet shook his head with frustrated annoyance mixed with exhaustion. "And they've spent days amongst us ... and ... all of this."

"We can have them detained and secured ..." Edwards offered. "... or escorted back east."

"One of them even came dressed as a damned priest." Bonnet pointed out.

"Pastor" Edwards corrected with a simple shrug and smile as he sipped his drink. "He corrected me when I happened to ask in passing, not entirely sure of why it seemed to annoy him for some reason."

"I've heard many good things about our illustrious reverend Brace from those who have spoken with him and the same from yet others that he apparently had helped comfort ..." Bonnet considered, "... and little of any uncomfortable questions having been asked. How is it that reporters would not ask questions, if that's what they are really here for?"