Engaging the Enemy (2006)
“A pleasant hill-country job, practically a vacation, he’d been told. Sweet summer breezes, beautiful flowers everywhere, a paradise. People paid good money to spend part of the summer up here in the hills, he’d been told.
People were crazy. He had never been so bored and so miserable. The house and gardens had an efficient alarm system—sensible enough, with all the attacks on Vattas—so he had to stay at a distance, hiding hour after hour in the lee of a rocky outcrop. The camping outfit he’d re...nted back in the city turned out to be useless, a bright-colored tent he dared not use, a portable chemical toilet that clogged up the second day, and foodpaks that tasted like hay and sawdust. He had been rained on, sunburned, bitten and stung by more nasty small creatures than he’d known existed, and all to watch a grieving widow, her orphaned grandchildren, and a dotty old lady.
Grace Lane Vatta may have been a war hero once—he had found reference to her guerrilla activity—but now she was a dotty old lady who didn’t appear outside until after supper, when she tottered around the orchard and garden in typical old-lady clothes: big hat, saggy skirts down to her ankles, long sleeves, a fuzzy shawl around her shoulders, and sensible shoes.MoreLess
People were crazy. He had never been so bored and so miserable. The house and gardens had an efficient alarm system—sensible enough, with all the attacks on Vattas—so he had to stay at a distance, hiding hour after hour in the lee of a rocky outcrop. The camping outfit he’d re...nted back in the city turned out to be useless, a bright-colored tent he dared not use, a portable chemical toilet that clogged up the second day, and foodpaks that tasted like hay and sawdust. He had been rained on, sunburned, bitten and stung by more nasty small creatures than he’d known existed, and all to watch a grieving widow, her orphaned grandchildren, and a dotty old lady.
Grace Lane Vatta may have been a war hero once—he had found reference to her guerrilla activity—but now she was a dotty old lady who didn’t appear outside until after supper, when she tottered around the orchard and garden in typical old-lady clothes: big hat, saggy skirts down to her ankles, long sleeves, a fuzzy shawl around her shoulders, and sensible shoes.MoreLess
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