Casca 52- the Rough Rider Read online

  “So how do we get one then?”

  Casey spat into the dust. “Leave that to me – just you make sure your pal lets her in once I arrange for one.”

  The eternal mercenary knew someone in the guard roster himself. Some skinny guy called Joe Worrell whom Casey had beaten at cards during one of their long boring evenings after a day’s training and discipline – this time bayonet practice. Worrell hadn’t been able to pay up the money lost, thinking he would win with his hand but Casey had trumped him. It had led to words but Casey decided it better to hold a favor over Worrell rather than having his front teeth.

  So now he was going to call the favor in. “Hey, you bastard,” Casey greeted the furtive-looking man as he entered the guard hut. “Gimme a pass to go to town for an hour.”

  “What d’ya want one of those for?”

  “I need to see a girl. You do that and we’re quits.”

  Worrell eyed Casey, then looked at the nearest soldier, one stood outside and out of earshot. “Alright, if it means my debt is cancelled, you’re on.”

  Casey grinned. “And next time, don’t bet when you’ve not got the funds to back it up.”

  Outside the perimeter wire, the guards were shown the pass and nodded him on his way, pulling the barbed wire barrier on the dirt track aside to allow him access to the town of Tampa. Casey walked smartly down the long road from the camp to the buildings nearby, and sure enough, there was a brothel not too far away. The area was not a residential one, and there were bars, saloons and shops scattered along the road. Most served the camp.

  He entered the building and spied the madam running the establishment and sauntered up to her, smiling a greeting. The woman, a generously proportioned lady of some advanced years, and having served herself in the business for many years, working her way up through the ranks, so to speak, welcomed him with a coquettish smile. She was a little disappointed that this handsome rugged looking man was not going to stay for a session with one of her working girls, but when it was explained what was needed, and when and where, and especially after coins were exchanged, madam was much happier.

  She called a group of girls down for Casey to look at and he soon selected one, a young woman not much older than Kid, with a fresh face and a wide smile that would hopefully put the lad at ease.

  As night fell that evening and Casey and Corrigan were exchanging raucous tales of women, drinking and fighting, all of which left Root with an open mouth and wide eyes, and a belief the two men were over exaggerating and things just didn’t happen that way, Casey suddenly looked out of the window. “Say, it’s a warm evening. Don’t like being cooped up here much; what do you say, Al, we go see if we can get ourselves some fresh air?”

  “Sure,” Corrigan winked at Casey. “Ain’t no fun inhalin’ these guy’s emissions anyhow.”

  The nearby men jeered and a few deliberately broke wind just to register their objections. “See, Kid?” Casey grinned, “these fellers don’t care about poisoning your delicate youthful system.”

  Root sniffed the air. “Not too bad,” he shrugged.

  “You jus’ wait till Hermann over here joins in,” Corrigan jerked a thumb at a silent figure of a man, a big man, lying on his bunk reading a newspaper by candlelight. Hermann Fischer was from Germany, like a lot of the men here, and was by nature taciturn, but he was a reliable man in a tight fix, and everyone liked having him around. The only problem with him was his diet of German sausages that had the unfortunate side-effect of producing vile aromas from his nether regions.

  Fischer smiled briefly. “You clearly do not appreciate the finer subtleties of life, my friend,” he said in his thick German accent.

  “C’mon,” Casey dragged Root off his bunk. “Before Hermann here tries to kill us.”

  They exited, accompanied by laughter, and the three walked in a line abreast slowly through the night. The stars were out and competed with the street lamps of Tampa. It seemed they were wandering aimlessly but Casey was heading over to the guard hut. Worrell was there and nodded to a dark shape standing silently to one side, dressed in a hooded cape and a long thin dress. Casey nodded to Worrell and the guard sergeant breathed out with relief. He could play cards again with a clean slate.

  Taking the slim, slight figure under one arm, he guided them all away from the hut. Off to one side was a shed, used as a store for things like blankets, canvasses and clothes. Corrigan was good at picking locks and he set to the padlock with a small set of tiny metal instruments. Root was puzzled by everything. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, it’s a little bit of fun, that’s all.”

  The Kid wasn’t convinced. “So who’s this? Is this a woman? They’re not allowed in camp!”

  Casey put a finger to his lips. “Shush, want everyone to hear? This young lady is a real friendly individual. She’s keen to meet some of the brave men willing to go to war to free the terribly oppressed people of Cuba.”

  Root looked at the dark and silent figure dubiously. “So – why is Al picking the lock?” he whispered.

  “Because we want a bit of privacy.”

  Corrigan clicked his tongue in triumph as the lock opened and they pushed into the dark shed. Casey lit a match and found a lamp, lighting it and putting it on the floor so the light couldn’t be seen outside. They wandered in deeper and came to where blankets were piled up in neat stacks on shelves.

  They got a few out and put them on the floor. Casey then slipped off the girl’s hood and looked at her features. “You’re Ruby, yes?”

  “Sure am, honey,” she purred seductively. She’d learned in the three years she’s been in the business how to talk and get the most out of prospective clients.

  “Well, this is Billy, here, a young lad who’s yet to experience the delights of ladies. Al and I will leave you two to get better acquainted.” Casey stepped behind Ruby so she and the Kid were facing one another.

  Corrigan walked towards the door, grinning. Root gaped, then wildly looked at Casey. “What?”

  “Just be nice, Kid,” Casey waved vaguely into the air. “She won’t bite. Well, not unless you ask her, that is.” He chuckled and saw Ruby drop her cape off. He had seen her in her ‘working outfit’ at the brothel and knew her chest was virtually hanging out of the top of that particular dress. He caught sight of Root’s eyes almost popping out before he left the hut, and he gently closed the door.

  Fighting to keep the laughter in, he and Corrigan returned to the barracks, avoiding the lazy bored sentry that patrolled that sector of the camp with ease.

  Root, meanwhile was left staring at a vision of ample female flesh and Ruby stepping up to him, that big smile on her face. “Billy, is it?”

  “Y-yes, uh, m-ma’am.” His hands were taken and placed on her breasts and he groaned to himself softly.

  “Billy.” She said the word in such a way that it made him feel even hotter within himself. “I’m so thankful for big brave men like you fighting in our wars. It makes me feel so safe, you know, and I’m so grateful, that I’m going to reward you so much. Now you just stand there and enjoy what a thankful young, vulnerable and scared girl like me wants to do to you, my brave, brave soldier…”

  She sank to her knees and undid his trousers, and next moment Billy gasped and rolled his eyes as something utterly wonderful began to happen….

  Billy returned a few hours later, slowly, stumbling, almost in a daze. Casey was awake, still, while Corrigan was snoring for America. Casey got up and guided the mostly unresponsive Billy to his bed and laid him down. All the Kid managed to say was “Jeez” before he fell asleep. Casey slipped out of the barrack house, checked to see where the sentries were, then made his way to the store hut.

  Ruby was there, waiting for him. She smiled as he came up to her. “He was a good boy,” she said. “I taught him plenty.”

  “No doubt,” Casey grinned. “You’re a good girl, showing the lad the pleasures of life.”

  She giggled softly. “Mmm, not often I get to
mold a virgin the way I want; he was so obedient.”

  “I wouldn’t be,” Casey grinned.

  “Oh, no, big boy, I know you wouldn’t. You look like a very naughty one indeed.”

  “You have no idea, Ruby sweetheart, what I’m capable of.”

  “Got any money?”

  “Sadly no, and I don’t think you should be here any longer. Shame, as I’d love to enjoy your beautiful body.”

  “Aww,” she pouted in a mock serious manner. “Oh well, seems I’ll have to go back to my place and be the submissive hooker I usually have to be.”

  “Bet you’re not submissive, really,” Casey whispered into her ear that made her grin widely. To be sure, his closeness and manly aura made her tingle madly, and she almost forgot she had to take money for men enjoying her body. This man, well, yes, she could happily do it with for nothing, but Madam would not be pleased.

  She allowed him to walk to her the gates, arm in arm, and she did enjoy pressing against him a few times. God, wouldn’t she love to have him just the once? The guard, prepped by Worrell, winked to Casey and the eternal mercenary kissed Ruby on the cheek lightly and waved her on her way. He stood by the gate, making sure she went down the street safely and got to the distant door of the brothel.

  While he waited, the guard asked him about her and was she any good. “Yeah, she’s a sweet young thing,” Casey said quietly, “shame she won’t be for long.”

  “Might go test her out then in two days – got a pass into town.”

  “Go easy with her, she’s quite a nice one.”

  The guard chuckled.

  With that Casey returned to his barracks, easily dodging the few men on bored sentry duty. He’d speak to the Kid in the morning.

  CHAPTER THREE

  All very well helping Billy Root discover women, the trouble was Casey and Al Corrigan had created a monster. The Kid now wanted more of the same and constantly pressed the others for a pass out so he could spend all his time and money in the brothel. More specifically, he wanted to see Ruby.

  “You ain’t gonna see that little bundle of happ’ness, kid,” Corrigan snapped two days later after the umpteenth time. “She ain’t yours. You jus’ borrowed her awhile an’ she showed you jus’ what a woman c’n do to a man. Now git her outta your head and concentrate on being a soldier or else I bust your ass.”

  Root sulked but knuckled down, at least for a while. He was in trouble though, and during parade a day or two after that he was told to step forward. Puzzled, he did, looking at Sergeant Holland faced the young man for a long, long silent moment, his face not exactly showing pleasure. Then the NCO spoke. “Who is Ruby, Private Root?”

  “Ruby, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, Ruby.”

  “Uhh, this girl – I met…” he tailed off uncertainly.

  “A girl. Where?”

  “Um… a while back.”

  “We in the United States army do not carve the names of our loved ones on the bunks we sleep in, do you get it, Private?”

  “Sergeant!”

  Casey rolled his eyes. Stupid boy.

  Holland stepped up close to Billy, his nose almost touching the youngster’s. It didn’t result in a lowering of the volume of Holland’s delivery any. “Private Root. You have desecrated the property of the US government. You have committed an act of willful destruction and defacing of property that is not yours. It will have to be replaced, and the cost will come out of your next pay, do you understand, Boy?”

  “Sergeant!” Root was white-faced.

  “Furthermore,” and Holland whirled and stamped four paces back towards the front of the parade. He turned again to face the shame-faced youngster. “You will be on punishment drill for the rest of the week, cleaning out the latrines, extra parade drill and sentry duty. Do you understand?”

  “Sergeant.”

  Holland gritted his teeth and stepped back two more paces. He drew in a deep breath. “Now, all of you, hear me and hear me good. Today we’re meeting our commanding officers and I don’t want no bad behavior from any of you, or else there will be hell to pay.”

  That set the tone for the rest of the day. All the soldiers, even the ones on guard duty, were smartened up, given parade training and put on show for the commanding officers. Horses were groomed, given a rub down, and the harnesses and saddles cleaned and polished. Casey and Corrigan with the others had to sit on benches going through the motions of making their tack as shiny and parade smart as possible.

  Billy Root was made to clean not only his but the officers’ too, as punishment. He grumbled about being picked on but Casey snorted in reply. “You were stupid carving that hooker’s name on the bunk, Kid. She’s not yours; she’s everyone’s who willing to pay up, just like all of them. They aren’t for one man, got it? You borrow them for just a short time and get your satisfaction, then they go onto the next client. That’s the way its always been and always will be.”

  “But why?” Root asked, looking at Casey with hurt eyes. “She’s such a beautiful girl!”

  Corrigan chuckled, shook his head and resumed polishing his saddle. Casey tutted. “She won’t be for much longer. Before long she’ll be just another ruthless taker of money and service the next one and think nothing of it. Doesn’t take too long in that business to get there. You can’t afford to be in possession of a conscience or a delicate set of morals. Of course,” he shrugged, “doesn’t mean that they don’t have feelings like anyone else. I’ve known many hookers in my time,” he absently scratched his scar and it almost seemed to tingle, “and many of them are the kindest, most generous women you’ll ever meet. But they are not for any one man, so, Kid, you got to understand that if you’re going to end up with a woman for the rest of your life, then a hooker is not the one, like Ruby. Let her go. Find a nice, decent, young woman who will be there for you when you come home at the end of your working day and hold you tight.” Casey went silent and bent his head to carry on polishing. That was a life he would never know for long. Sure, there had been times when he had lived as ordinary a life as he could ever possibly do, but it was always never for long and he had always needed to leave and go before anyone got suspicious about him.

  It made him maudlin.

  Billy still sulked and Corrigan smirked at his mood. Stupid love-struck Kid. “I’ll go get myself a good hooker after pay day,” he declared, “whatever one is available,” and he winked hugely.

  Root flared his nostrils. “You leave Ruby alone!”

  “Or what? Jeez, bet she’s a wild one. Think I’ll go sample that young lady.”

  Billy threw his saddle down in fury. “You leave her alone, Corrigan!”

  “Or what? You gonna beat me up?” Corrigan roared with mirth. “Hell, Boy, you’re gonna have to beat up the entire regiment, as they’re all gonna want some of that cute hot ass.”

  Billy went mad, but it ended rather quickly, and predictably, with the Kid on his backside holding a split lip. Corrigan loomed over him, his jaw thrust forward. “So don’t go thinking you can keep that hooker all to yourself, kid.”

  The other soldiers were laughing and comments rolled back and forth about how many of them would go and try out the young Ruby after pay day. Root sat back down and was almost in tears. Casey sighed and shook his head. “Alright you lot, knock it off. Kid’s upset enough as it is.”

  Trouble was, there had to be someone who just couldn’t keep his trap shut. There was a former railroad construction worker called Jed Keeble who had a reputation for winding people up and using his fists to settle arguments. He was also too dumb to understand when not to carry on doing it, and Casey was not the one anyone should irritate. Keeble snickered. “Hell, Long, you sweet on the Kid here? Gonna wipe his snot nose?”

  “No, but I’ll break yours, you ugly ape. Now shut it.”

  Keeble laughed. “Shit, you ain’t got the guts. You oughtta grow some tits and breast feed the Kid; you act enough like his mother.”

  Casey got up and punched Keeb
le off the bench. The big man fell flat on his back, legs up in the air, and he lay there for a moment, dazed, then grunted, splitting blood, and got to his feet, his face turning redder and even more ugly.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, you woman.” He leaped over the bench and tried to grapple with the scarred eternal mercenary but Casey was too wise with brawls. A dodge to the left and a blurred right fist to the solar plexus. Keeble bent over, almost throwing up, drool oozing out of his mouth as he panted for air.

  Casey circled slowly, fists bunched. He was ready for further trouble, as Keeble was certainly not the sharpest in the toolbox and he certainly had at least one bullet missing from his clip. His stance was slightly side-on, and the words of Shiu Lao Tze came to him from deep in the distant past.

  Keeble straightened, his teeth gritted. “Bastard, I’m gonna flatten you good and proper, then the Kid here will need a new mummy to suckle from.” He charged, like a rampant buffalo in breeding season, and swung a huge right at Casey’s head. The eternal mercenary ducked and slammed his own right up into Keeble’s jaw, lifting the man clear up off the ground and he crashed into the dust in a heap, and didn’t move.

  “Attention!” Sergeant Holland’s voice cut through the cheering and comments.

  The men all stood up and straightened. Holland stood next to two men in officer’s uniforms and didn’t look best pleased. Behind them stood a whole collection of officers. “Private Long, you’re on a charge! What the hell are you doing?”

  “Sergeant,” Casey replied, eyeing the two officers warily. He looked at their rank insignia, and knew he was in the deepest shit. A colonel and a lieutenant colonel. So this must be Colonel Wood and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt.

  Colonel Wood was smartly dressed with a moustache and his hair parted in the center. He was as tall as Casey and carried a clear air of authority about him. “Sergeant, troops fighting amongst themselves will be punished according to the letter. This is not to be tolerated, do I make myself clear?”