BoTH Chpt 22

==Blood on the Horizon - Chapter 22 -==
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===Recruiting a Reliable Man===
The inside of the bar was well-lit, this early in the afternoon, it seemed to function more as a normal restaurant than a place to get drunk in.
 
"What can I get for you hun?" A pretty waitress asked, her apron stained from obvious use.
 
"I'll take a sweet tea and a menu for now," I smiled at her. "I'm hoping to meet with one of your regulars if he's around, if not," I shrugged. "Then I'll just enjoy some food and get out of your hair."
 
"I'll be right back with your drink," she slid a laminated menu over along with an erasable marker. "Just check off the food you want and I'll get that rushed to the back for you."
 
"Thank you," I set down the fairly thick folder I was carrying and looked through the menu, selecting a handful of options before setting it to the side and opening up the folder to the first candidate I was planning on interviewing.
 
"Jonathon, "Jack" Sheppard," I read through the file again to refresh my memory. "Discharged from the AFFS after refusing to leave behind a group of infantrymen that had been pinned by combat vehicles. Lost his family's 'mech in the process and has since been working dead-end jobs."
 
"Here's our tea," the waitress came back with a glass and a straw. "I'll take your menu and be back with the food you ordered."
 
"Thanks," I nodded, taking a sip of my tea before glancing up and seeing the person that I was looking for walking out with a bus tray in his hands as he collected dishes and took them to the back. "I'll be here waiting."
 
I watched as Sheppard diligently attended to the task at hand, even if you could tell that he didn't enjoy the work, he was doing it regardless, the few other customers he was interacting with smiling and sharing conversation with him.
 
As he made his way around to my section I gestured for him to come to my table.
 
"You wouldn't happen to be Jonathon Sheppard, would you?" I asked.
 
"It's Jack," he sized me up, noting where I was in the bar. "And it depends on who's asking."
 
"I'm looking to hire someone to fill a certain role in my unit," I said as I laid some cash on the table. "Regardless of whether you hear me out or not, this is yours," I looked into the brown eyes of a nearly broken man. "I know what it's like to have to struggle to make ends meet."
 
"Alright," he slid the cash into an apron pocket before taking a seat. "You have thirty minutes to convince me."
 
"One," I slid his available CSV over the table to him. "I've seen the public data and it doesn't scare me away," I held up my hand and counted off another finger. "Two, I know that your family's mech was destroyed and that you guys had to pay a fortune to get it back. I'm willing to pay that off and let you keep the 'mech that you pilot."
 
"What's the catch?" Jack interrupted me. "This is too good to be true. Ain't no one care that much about some 'mech jockey who wanted to save some PBIs."
 
"The catch is that I want you to be committed," I sighed. "I don't just want another 'average' merc unit. I want people that aren't your typical 'mech jocks. I'm looking for the kind of people that are willing to do the sort of thing that got you sacked by your old unit. And I'm willing to pay good money to make sure that you and yours are taken care of if you join up. I know what it's like to be in your shoes, and I don't want you to have to worry about that sort of thing if you work for me."
 
"Lemme think about it," Sheppard slid out of the booth. "Got a way for me to get in touch with ya?"
 
"I'm staying at the Breakwater motel," I sipped my tea and tossed the file folder at him. "I've got some other people to talk to, so I might not be there, but the receptionist should be able to take a message for me."
 
"I'll get in contact when I've got an answer," he picked up the tray from the nearby table and got back to work, the waitress coming up and speaking to him in muted tones.
 
I watched as Sheppard took the cash I had tipped him and slid it into a shared tip jar instead of keeping it to himself. A smile appearing as I gratefully accepted my food from the waitress.
 
"Strong moral character," I muttered as I was left alone again. "That is what's important to me."
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===Asking for a Man=== 
"Hello, I'm here to speak to Thomas Peterson," I knocked on the door of a fairly large house on the outskirts of this small town, the nearby cattle grazing made me long for the days of building fences with my grandparents on their farm.
 
"I'm comin'" a large farmer stepped out of the house and onto the porch, his hat held in his hand. "I'm James, Thomas' Pa, he's out in the pasture fixin' somethin' for me. You kin wait here, or we can take a ride," he walked over to an old farm truck, a gun mounted on a rack and an extra fuel tank sitting in the bed.
 
"I'll come along for the ride," I hopped into the truck after him. "It's been far too long since I've seen a ranch and I'm sure you have some questions for me."
 
"Yeah, I got a fair few questions," James nodded. "For one, why're you keen on Thomas? He's just a member of the local militia, not like he got much in the way of a military education."
 
"He's got a college degree and did extremely well in the last pirate raid y'all faced," I shrugged. "He was one of those at the top of the list of recommendations by the local MRB rep when I gave them my requirements."
 
"So you think he'll be a good little officer in this business of yours?" the dad raised an eyebrow.
 
"I think he'll take me to task if I give a stupid or unlawful order," I answered honestly. "I'm not looking for a sycophant, I'm looking for the kind of people that are hard to convince, but that once are convinced are behind me all the way. But in the end are still willing to ask the right questions."
 
"You know that you won't just be taking him along, right?" James glanced over at me. "He's got a girl here, and he's rightly attached at the hip."
 
"I'm not looking to cause harm," I yawned as I looked out over the grazing cattle. "Just trying to find good men and women to work with. There's too many people out there who'll do anything for money, and I don't want someone who's willing to sell their soul for C-Bills working with me."
 
"Fair 'nough," the grizzled farmer nodded. "Well, I'll see to it that Thomas at least hears you out, even if he don't want to."
 
"That's all I can ask for," I changed the subject and started exchanging farm stories with the old man, a smile on my face as we continued over the hills and pasture.
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Chapter 22