Daisy had fled to the bathroom. The general had obviously given up his frantic search for his trousers. He was wrapped in the sheet, looking like a very irate Roman senator.
“This had better be good, Major,” he hissed.
In a voice of perfect urbanity, Fitz replied. “Sir! I would not have dreamed of disturbing you for anything less than something of major importance. And—of course—your private life is of no relevance.”
“What is it? And why didn’t you just call or call my second-in-command, General Fertzengu? In fact, why did you override the chain of command?” The general was fast working himself up into the fury of a man caught in a compromising position, with nowhere else but temper to turn to.
Fitz looked down his long nose at the man. Then he realized he was doing just what he had asked Ariel not to do. He attempted to answer without any sign of irritation. “Firstly, sir, my orders are to report directly to you on matters of intelligence and not to attempt to influence junior officers. Those are your exact words, sir. Secondly, your 2 I.C. is out of town on a shooting trip and is not available, according to his household staff. Thirdly, I tried to call you. You have not drawn your pager, sir. I called your office. I called your home.” A look of discomfort crossed the general’s face. “I then called on Captain Hargreaves, sir. He provided me with this number, but the phone was not accepting calls. I had little alternative but to come here in person.”
The general ground his teeth audibly. “You had no call to burst in here. You should have waited . . .”
Fitz lost it. “While you play your stupid philandering games, men are dying!”
“And rats too,” put in Ariel.
It was perhaps not what he’d asked her to do, but it gave Conrad a second to cool.
It hadn’t done that for the general. “Don’t you dare shout at me! I’ll have you stripped of your rank and back in the trenches before you can say ‘knife.’ And now get yourself and that animal out of my quarters. You’re dismissed, Major. Dismissed! I will see you in my office at nine tomorrow, morning. Sharp.”
Inside Fitz something finally snapped. He had tried to work within the framework . . . He knew that there was now only one real course of action open to him. But he would have a last attempt. His voice was very cold, as it always was when he was really angry. “You’ll listen to me now. I’ll see you in your office, later. And then you can do your worst.”
A sensible man hearing that tone would have shut up. It even took a little bit of the bombast out of Carrot-up. “I’ve given you your orders, Major.”
“And I’ll obey them. After I’ve finished, so you might as well let me make that quick. Now, I have interrupted your . . . rest, to tell you we have satellite information coming in that indicates that some of our men—”
“And maybe rats, and probably bats,” interrupted Ariel, dropping out of his pocket to the floor.
“Yes, and possibly other troops, are behind enemy lines. They’ve attacked a scorpiary. The result is that on sector Delta 355 all the Magh’ forces have been pulled back inside the force shield to deal with the insurgents. They’re wreaking havoc in there, General. Three major explosion traces so far. They have some kind of vehicle and they’re going through the scorpiary like a dose of salts. If they succeed in knocking out the power source for the force shield we must be ready to move in with speed, sir. The Magh’ side of the line is undefended, sir. We should have whatever troops we can muster waiting in their earthworks. Even if the insurgents fail, which, of course, there is a good chance that they will . . .”
The general stood up, nearly losing his toga. “You dared to disturb me with this rubbish? It’s a complete and utter farradiddle! And even if it wasn’t, I don’t care if there are a handful of other-ranks blundering around behind the enemy lines. It won’t change the war, Major. These ‘glamour’ actions never do . . .”