Redeployment(38)

“No, it hasn’t,” I said.

“Highly successful in sparking entrepreneurship among our AO’s disenfranchised population.”

Bob looked over, an eyebrow arched. Zima kept going, “In fact,” he said, scribbling illegibly with great speed, “due to its growing membership and the increasingly key place it has taken within community power structures, it has, on its own initiative, begun expanding its operations to encompass—” He looked up. “That’s a good word, right? Encompass?”

“Encompass is a great word,” I said, curious.

“To encompass a more holistic approach.”

“Have they now?” I said, smiling in spite of myself.

“Several promising businesses have failed, despite substantial opportunities for female employment, due to a lack of adequate child care and medical facilities. Providing these services is a prerequisite to a flourishing free market and represents a business opportunity in its own right.”

“Oh,” I said, getting it. “Very nice.”

Bob scowled.

“We are still collecting broader metrics, but two projects have been hamstrung by a lack of health care. One female bakery closed after two workers, both widows, stopped coming due to complications from untreated yeast infections.”

“There’s no way that’s true,” I said.

“Maybe someone gave me bad information,” the major conceded, “but I can’t be held responsible for that. We get bad information all the time.”

“I,” said Bob, standing up, “am going outside for a smoke break.”

“You don’t smoke,” I said. He ignored me.

“Statistics show,” Zima continued as Bob walked out, “that countries which improve health care do a better job improving their economies than countries which focus exclusively on business development.”

“Is that true?”

Major Zima put on his shocked face. “Of course it’s true,” he said. “I deal only in truth-hood.” After a moment he added, “I saw it in a TED Talk.”

“Okay,” I said. I looked down at the paper. “Can you get me the name of the speaker? Let’s see if we can do this.”

“Good,” said the major. “Glad we can work together on this. You know, I think I can even convince the colonel to throw in some CERP funds… .”

“That would be amazing,” I said.

“Oh,” he said, “and I was wondering. Could you help me with something?”

“What?” I said.

He pulled a blue baseball helmet out of the green bag and put it on my desk. “G. G. Goodwin wants a picture of kids playing baseball.”





? ? ?


The next two times I went outside the wire, I went out with a baseball helmet, mitt, and bat. No uniforms in sight, though.





? ? ?


“I know what you’re doing,” said Chris Roper over the phone, “and this bullshit is not going to stand.”

“What?”

“You want to push the money for the clinic through the women’s association? You know ninety percent of it, if not more, is gonna go right into Abu Bakr’s pocket.”

“You wanted me to keep them going,” I said, “even knowing that. So why not have some of the money going to something real.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Very clever.”

“Something is better than nothing,” I said, “and funding for the clinic runs out next month.”

“Wow,” said Roper. “Honesty. How refreshing.”

“The clinic is big in the community,” I said. “It’s not a bad thing if the sheikh takes ownership of it.”

“It’s big for the women,” he said. “Have you met an Iraqi who gives a f*ck about women?”

“There is a direct link,” I said, “between the oppression of women and extremism.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he said.

“This is real,” I said. “And he’ll keep it going. It’ll hurt his reputation if he stops it.”

“Any buy-in from local councils?” he said.

“It says in the—”

“I know what it says,” he snapped. “Is there real buy-in?”

“Yes,” I said. “Minimal financial support. As long as we’re funding something, the Iraqis don’t want to step in and kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, but the bit in there about the distribution network—”