The story improved with the telling, as Vallejo passed them on to the next relay of guards at the downhill terminal of a cog railroad; once he had a license to fib, the burly sergeant proved a born-again General Bolivar. Even discounting some of it, the other soldiers had to be impressed. For while Vallejo had lost six of his men and a dozen unimportant travelers, he’d saved the mail, hung on to his weapons, and totally wiped out a guerrilla band that had been giving them trouble in that sector for some time. Vallejo wouldn’t be promoted. He didn’t have the family connections. But he would be put in for a nice medal. The clans were willing to share a few of the good things in life.
The cog railway took them up and over the crest of the west range. A short coach ride – oxcarts for the peones – connected them with another railroad that crossed the swampy vale beyond until the land once more steepened and it was time to get out and walk. It was one hell of a drag, but there were no further incidents with guerrillas and, all in all, the trip inland took one day short of a week and only resulted in the conception of two bastards on the trail. Peon women had nothing to say about whether they serviced a soldado or not.
The morning they arrived in Bogotá the superior officer of Lieutenant Colonel Maldonado was entertaining, if that was the word, one of Maldonado’s junior officers in his quarters. El Arano did not know everything. Like many men of superior intelligence who have to work with lesser lights, Maldonado tended to overestimate the advantages of brains over brawn and/or pull. Stuck with a bisexual superior he dismissed as a dimwit, Maldonado would not tolerate an aide who wasn’t both bright and heterosexual. He’d have been in better shape with a few loyal queers working for him. They’d have been able to tell him that one of his aides, while nominally a rather brutal Don Juan, was ambitious enough to take the part of a passive sodomite, or perhaps a cannibal, if it meant a chance to get ahead.
And so the good-looking young major gritted his teeth and took it, as he knelt on all fours across the colonel’s bed and presented his rump for military inspection and the older man’s pleasure. He didn’t know what real queens got out of it, but it cramped his bowels when the fat son of a bitch was all the way in. His confused genitals expanded and contracted as the colonel’s shaft slid back and forth over his prostate, up inside his rectum, and his own penis was drooling something that was either semen or piss on the sheet. He didn’t know whether he had to come or urinate and it felt uncomfortable’ either way, but hopefully the old bastard was almost there, so the major moaned in mock pleasure, like the whore he was, and wriggled his rump to encourage the old fart.
It worked. The colonel closed his eyes as he stood behind his latest conquest and dug his nails into the younger man’s hips as he thrust harder, collapsed forward, and sighed, “Oh, nice. You have such a sweet tight ass, Pedrito.”
“I am glad to be of service, my colonel,” replied the catamite as they both fell forward on the bed. The colonel withdrew and wiped his shitty shaft on the sheets, saying, “Soon I will have you coming with me. I could tell you are starting to like it better, no?”
“Si, my colonel, it is most intriguing.”
“It’s a shame you spoiled yourself with women before I discovered you were adventurous, Pedrito. I have found that a virgin boy enjoys anal sex almost from the beginning. One becomes attached to the method by which one reaches his first climax and you, I fear, are still penis-centered.”
The aide lay on his side, fondling his own genitals, and shyly asked, “Could I do that to you, my colonel?”
“No. I too am penis-centered. As you may have noticed, I am less well-endowed than yourself. I don’t want that big tool of yours inside me. Rank has its privileges, eh? But be patient, Pedrito, I have a nice surprise for you this morning. But first let us rest as I recover my breath and desire.”
The major nodded silently as he wondered what the freak intended next. He knew he was on a faster road to advancement than normal military service to Maldonado offered, but sometimes he wished he hadn’t started this. The colonel had promised him the moon, when he’d seduced him that afternoon a few months back. So far, all he’d gotten out of it was a sore ass and a three-day pass the bastard had made him spend with him.
The colonel played with his own genitals as he asked, “Tell me, what is El Arafio doing about those mines my brother-in-law, Senator Vargas, was interested in?”
The major said, “Nothing. I told you he seems worried about a break with the Germans. But I had my own people check it out and it is true that the German company is only mining worthless rock over there. Have you told General Reyes that El Arafio has him under observation?”
The colonel shook his head and said, “Not yet. I too have learned the advantages of playing the waiting game in a most surprising world. I will tell you something about Rafael Reyes, if you promise to keep it secret. You see, Reyes is not the playboy people take him for.”
“You mean he is, ah, like us?”
“No, alas, his tastes in sex are rather banal. I’ve never understood why he keeps so many mistresses. After all, a woman is only a woman. There is no surprise in seducing a woman. They either screw or they don’t screw. I find predictable sex a bore. His mundane vices are not what I am speaking of. Reyes and his clique are very dangerous. You see, the bastard is very ruthless and very intelligent. I don’t know what Maldonado suspects him of, but I can tell you this: Reyes will always pick the winning side. I think it must be a family trait. His clan has been here since they marched over the Andes with the Pizarro brothers, and each generation holds more land and money, and the power that goes with such combined wealth. When Bolivar rose against the Spanish, others made the mistake of assuming the crown would win. The Reyes clan was one of the first to join the Liberator. When the first United Republic tore itself apart in civil wars, the Reyeses again managed always to land on their feet no matter which way the tide of victory went. Si, if Maldonado can be called El Arano, Rafael Reyes must be considered El Gato. Trust me on this. Watch General Reyes as you were ordered to, but be sure and jump the same way he does when he makes his move!”
“Maldonado thinks he may be a secret liberal.”
“Bah! Maldonado has delusions of intellect. That is the trouble with a man who never chews coca and seems content with one woman. He sees the world in primary colors. General Reyes is not for the liberals. He is not for the conservatives in power. He is for himself and, perhaps, Colombia. A certain unthinking patriotism seems to go with other simple vices. Reyes will do what he thinks is best for the country. He will also no doubt think that what is good for General Reyes is good for the country. But enough of that. What else has been going on over in the intelligence section? I heard something about rebel activity in the western ranges a few days ago.”
The major nodded. “Si, the usual self-appointed peon liberator managed to bite off more than he could chew this time. I must say our boys did a good job on the band. Among the heads they brought in was the brainless one of the local hero. I say brainless in the literal sense. He took a machine-gun round in the temple.”
“Bueno. It seems it was a good idea to issue machine guns to our unwashed troops after all. Were the rebels actually stupid enough to charge a machine gun?”
“No, my colonel, our men acted with surprising skill. They were pinned down in an ambush for a time, but then the machine-gun section somehow managed to flank the rebels and blow them to hash. The sergeant in charge is a half-Indian illiterate, but apparently a natural tactician. He’s been put in for a medal. Maldonado suggested the medals should go to the machine-gun crew and a promotion to the sergeant, but headquarters told him not to get carried away.”
“True, mestizos tend to get over ambitious after a few promotions. What happened to the people they were guarding on the trail?”
“A few simple peones were killed in the ambush. Fortunately, some foreign travelers coming up from the coast got off without a scratch.”
“Hmm, more foreigners? We have enough strangers complicating our lives up here in the highlands.”
“On that point you and Maldonado are in agreement, my colonel. He intends to investigate them thoroughly. He has already sent cables to verify the credentials of a Canadian journalist reported to have been unusually cool under fire. At first El Arano became most excited, until he established that none of the foreigners were involved in the business with the machine gun. It seems the Canadian, answers the description of a known troublemaker called Captain Gringo. But all North Americans look alike, and if Canada vouches for him we are merely to keep him under observation.”
The colonel frowned and said, “El Arano seems to take it upon himself to observe a lot of people without clearing it with me. Can he identify this mysterious Captain Gringo on sight?”
“I don’t think so. They have crossed swords before, but never met face-to-face. Maldonado has also ordered observation of a troupe of actors. I told him the woman in charge is a personal friend of Senator Vargas, but he said to watch them anyway.”
“Senator Vargas isn’t going to like that. Frankly, I am beginning to feel that El Arano is overworked. Perhaps it is time to send him on leave for a month or so. Do you think you could be more diplomatic if I put you in charge for a trial period, Pedrito?”
“Oh, my colonel!” gasped the delighted major. And then, since they were naked in bed together and one good turn deserves another, he reached for his superior’s crotch.
The colonel laughed and said, “Not so fast. I told you I had a nice surprise for you today.”
He rang the pull cord by the bed and a door across the room opened. A heavyset Indian woman, fully dressed, led a naked Inca girl of about twelve into the room. The girl’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying, but she’d learned to stop fighting the inevitable and approached with her eyes downcast and limping slightly. Her last beating hadn’t left any marks, but her hip was still a little stiff.
The colonel said, “I knew you liked it both ways, Pedrito. So I bought you a present. Isn’t she lovely? They tell me she’s a virgin, which means she hasn’t had too much experience. She’ll be fat and have a mustache in a few years, but what is youth for, if not to enjoy, eh?”
The major eyed the young nude with a grin as he felt a tingle in his abused and confused groin. The colonel asked, “Do you speak Spanish, Chica?”
The girl murmured, “Si, a little. Please don’t hurt me.”
The colonel nodded at the procuress and said, “Leave us. You obviously have her trained.”
The husky Indian woman left and the girl stood there crying. The colonel beckoned her over to the bed and pulled her onto it between them. He grinned at the major and said, “Go ahead, Pedrito, she’s all yours.”
The major rolled the girl on her back and when she tried to cover her budding breasts with her hands he slapped them away and said, “Lie still, you pretty little beast. I take it you wish for to watch, my colonel?”
“But of course. What is the joy of giving presents, save for watching them unwrapped?”
The major grinned and rolled atop the girl, spreading her thin thighs with his hairy leg and cuffing her when she tried to twist out from under him.
She closed her eyes and prayed, “Madre de Cielo, por favor!”