last

veteran solved it for him. The man, as still-faced as ever, turned his head and hissed a few choice words of his own. Mike caught the last phrase: “—y’r own cocks f’r sausage. D’ye understand?”
His soldiers stiffened and turned their eyes away from the girls.
Mike smiled. I do believe I’m going to get along with this very tough-looking fellow.
The young officer had been one of those ogling Julie. He must have caught the same words, for he suddenly started and eyed Mike a bit apprehensively. He seemed on the verge of uttering some sort of apology.
Mike kept the smile on his face. “I realize that some of our—ah, customs—must seem a little strange to you.” He nodded toward the cheerleading squad. “We’re not much given to worrying about appear­ances. Just the content of morality.”
The last words were spoken a bit grimly. Mike’s smile faded away. Days ago, Mike had made his basic decision. He would not budge from it.
If the superstitious, flea-bitten, lord-and-priest-ridden bastards don’t like it, let ’em choke to death. No surrender, no retreat. This is American soil!
A stray thought made him chuckle. During his three years in college, Mike had been a history student himself. Unlike Melissa, however, with her wide-ranging interests, Mike’s attention had been rather narrowly focused