12-05-2014, 11:54 PM
Jacques was quiet for a moment, studying this Lawrence Monday. Americans. They were, almost universally, so confident of themselves and their own view of the world. They could never see the motivations of others as anything but a cover for some nefarious goal. A paranoia that had been brewed during the Cold War and had only worsened with the economic collapse of recent decades. It was not a universal problem; the Americans in his company were not held by such narrow views, after all.
"In truth, Mademoiselle Monday, I had hoped not to be entertaining any reporters today. Perhaps I am not as clever as I like to think, but I hadn't expected General Wallace-Johnson to be letting you folks out, at least until the military had secured more of the area."
He smiled softly, and looked towards his men, standing vigilant and staring outwards from the walls of the refinery.
"I came here for two reasons. We are not a large company, Mademoiselle Grey. It is a rare thing that two of my men might pass in a hallway and not know each other. In many senses, we are a family. My men have lost many of their brothers in Dominance V. And now they are embroiled deeply in another terrible conflict, in isolated camps. Travel is not safe, and this is not America, or the Custody. Modern conveniences, such as helicopters, are not at my disposal. As much as these camps need protection, I simply have too few men at my disposal to assure they are safe. Hopefully, in time, government forces will be able to push out to these camps. The people of Sierra Leone are scattered and afraid, and it is my firm hope that the government will be able to step back into the void that has been created by the recent fighting."
The loss of so many of his men, even for a cause that could be seen as wholeheartedly good as Jeddah had provided, had affected him deeply, as much as he might have been trying to convince everyone to the contrary. That their bodies would likely never receive a proper burial in the Legion's graveyard in Casablanca, or near their families wherever they may have lived, was even harder to swallow.
"As for the other reason for me to be here today. I am a tool. I have been on the cover of magazines. My name has been seen on the front page of news papers all over the continent, these past few years. An archaic thing, I know, but I assure you we have embraced recycling. The loss of the Madagascar forests is a lesson hard learned, but it has been learned. The point, Mademoiselle Monday, is that where I go, people tend to pay attention. My undeservedly earned fame is something I shall use to draw awareness to people like those in this camp. These are parents who set aside ethnic and social pressures and age-old hatreds to see their children received a good education."
Jacques sighed quietly, glancing towards the last of the children as they disappeared into the wing of the refinery used by the Red Cross for their own offices, then looked to Lawrence again. "There are too few schools in Africa, and too much hatred. Hatred bred from poverty and disease and blood money. From a lack of education, or clean water, or jobs. And every time someone like those people there try to bring some hope, or better the lives of children, someone comes and kicks down the sandcastle."
"So there you are, Mademoiselle Monday. My reasons to be here are entirely selfish in nature."
It was about then that the sound of the approaching military trucks could be heard, and some of his men moved towards the closed gate. Legionnaires shifted their stances subtly, weapons held just a bit more intently then they had been moments before, and a few shared glances with each other, or towards their CEO.
The men of the Legion were among the best, but they held no foolish assumptions that they were immortal. Their two dozen, even bolstered with their auxiliary of Sierra Leonean men, would be hard pressed against the number of armed and experienced troops in the trucks that sat idling outside the gate.
Jacques glanced towards the commotion with a frown. It was the moment of truth. His men had, for the most part, been left in the dark of the approaching Sierra Leonean troops. In the dark of Jacques entire gamble. He was not so naive as to allow himself to entertain, even briefly, the possibility that the day would end peacefully for everyone involved. "Well. If you will all excuse me, I believe I am needed elsewhere."
Edited by Jacques, Dec 22 2014, 08:09 PM.
"In truth, Mademoiselle Monday, I had hoped not to be entertaining any reporters today. Perhaps I am not as clever as I like to think, but I hadn't expected General Wallace-Johnson to be letting you folks out, at least until the military had secured more of the area."
He smiled softly, and looked towards his men, standing vigilant and staring outwards from the walls of the refinery.
"I came here for two reasons. We are not a large company, Mademoiselle Grey. It is a rare thing that two of my men might pass in a hallway and not know each other. In many senses, we are a family. My men have lost many of their brothers in Dominance V. And now they are embroiled deeply in another terrible conflict, in isolated camps. Travel is not safe, and this is not America, or the Custody. Modern conveniences, such as helicopters, are not at my disposal. As much as these camps need protection, I simply have too few men at my disposal to assure they are safe. Hopefully, in time, government forces will be able to push out to these camps. The people of Sierra Leone are scattered and afraid, and it is my firm hope that the government will be able to step back into the void that has been created by the recent fighting."
The loss of so many of his men, even for a cause that could be seen as wholeheartedly good as Jeddah had provided, had affected him deeply, as much as he might have been trying to convince everyone to the contrary. That their bodies would likely never receive a proper burial in the Legion's graveyard in Casablanca, or near their families wherever they may have lived, was even harder to swallow.
"As for the other reason for me to be here today. I am a tool. I have been on the cover of magazines. My name has been seen on the front page of news papers all over the continent, these past few years. An archaic thing, I know, but I assure you we have embraced recycling. The loss of the Madagascar forests is a lesson hard learned, but it has been learned. The point, Mademoiselle Monday, is that where I go, people tend to pay attention. My undeservedly earned fame is something I shall use to draw awareness to people like those in this camp. These are parents who set aside ethnic and social pressures and age-old hatreds to see their children received a good education."
Jacques sighed quietly, glancing towards the last of the children as they disappeared into the wing of the refinery used by the Red Cross for their own offices, then looked to Lawrence again. "There are too few schools in Africa, and too much hatred. Hatred bred from poverty and disease and blood money. From a lack of education, or clean water, or jobs. And every time someone like those people there try to bring some hope, or better the lives of children, someone comes and kicks down the sandcastle."
"So there you are, Mademoiselle Monday. My reasons to be here are entirely selfish in nature."
It was about then that the sound of the approaching military trucks could be heard, and some of his men moved towards the closed gate. Legionnaires shifted their stances subtly, weapons held just a bit more intently then they had been moments before, and a few shared glances with each other, or towards their CEO.
The men of the Legion were among the best, but they held no foolish assumptions that they were immortal. Their two dozen, even bolstered with their auxiliary of Sierra Leonean men, would be hard pressed against the number of armed and experienced troops in the trucks that sat idling outside the gate.
Jacques glanced towards the commotion with a frown. It was the moment of truth. His men had, for the most part, been left in the dark of the approaching Sierra Leonean troops. In the dark of Jacques entire gamble. He was not so naive as to allow himself to entertain, even briefly, the possibility that the day would end peacefully for everyone involved. "Well. If you will all excuse me, I believe I am needed elsewhere."
Edited by Jacques, Dec 22 2014, 08:09 PM.