‘Transferred?”
“That’s right,” Nunzio sez. “We’ve been promoted and transferred to headquarters. It seems the Mob isn’t the only ones who can spot leadership potential.”
As an indication of the physical and nervous stress of the night we have been through, I do not have the energy to even think about throttiin’ him.
Chapter Fifteen:
“An army travels on its paperwork!”
-J. CARLSON
“WELL, SERGEANT GUIDO, you and your squad come highly recommended. Yes, highly recommended indeed!”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Okay, so I am layin’ it on a little thick. Considerin’ the number of officers I’m seein’ here at headquarters, however, it seems like the wisest attitude for an enlisted type like me to assume … which is to say one step up from grovelin’.
“Well,” he sez, settin’ our files to one side and startin’ to rummage through the other stacks of paper on his desk, “let’s see what we can find for you in the way of assignments.”
Actually, I would be surprised if he can find his feet in this office. It has only been a few times that I have seen so much paper stuffed into as little space as there is in this office … and most of the other times was in the offices I poked into while lookin’ for this one. There is paper stacked everywhere, on the chairs and on the floor, on the window ledges and on the tops of file cabinets … not to mention the stacks set on the top of already filed paper in the open drawers of said cabinets. There are also, of course, assorted piles of paper on the desktop of the officer I am speakin’ to, and it is through these stacks he is currently rummagin’.