On base, Captain Perez led me to the central data center, where a backup system was ready for the install. We had a small team, Captain Perez, Enrique, one of the contractors from the day before, Sargent Jimenez, the system admin, and Ana Isabel, seemingly in the role of observer.
The install went pretty smoothly, with one small hiccup we were able to resolve in about half-an-hour. We were ready to bring it up and establish the live connections to the two main databases by lunch. We took a well deserved break, relaxing over a meal in the Officer’s Mess, before going back and lighting up the system. Our test code found a database inconsistency right away, but I was able to fix that, with some help from the Sargent, and by three o’clock, all lights were go.
Major de Borbon called in and let them know that the install looked complete, and we’d passed all the initial tests and had established all of our connections. With an Ok from on high, we went live, watching the display change, units changing color as the maintenance history, combined with the available supplies, reported expected longevity before failure. Within the hour we had reports showing two shortages that needed addressing, and the results that could be expected once those were filled.
It was a complete success.
Ana Isabel came over beaming. “That’s perfect. Can we bring in the entire squadron, and see live results?”
I sat back and let Captain Perez drive. “Go ahead, Pablo. Bring in all three if you like. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
By five o’clock we were displaying the data on the big overhead, for the full brass. Everyone seemed excited, and the room was charged with energy. I think the fact that Captain Perez was able to run the show, bringing up the information on demand, swapping between screens, and drilling down to individual systems, helped immensely. I’d spotted one minor flaw in the display, but kept it to myself. It was hardly critical, and I suspected I knew the fix; shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours to take care of it.
That was when I found out just how capable the Major was. She settled in next to me, and whispered my same observation. “It’s a bug?”
“Yes. Minor. I think it’s just a matter of display order. I’ll have it fixed tonight,” I told her.
“No. Give it to your team to fix, and have them notify me when it’s ready. I’d like to give BCS a chance to work on it. It’ll probably take them a week or more, but it will give them a chance to delve into the code. If you don’t mind.”
I nodded. “Sounds good. How much do you want me to tell them about the problem?”
“Nothing. Just point it out and I’ll let them figure it out.”
Ouch. Better them than me I guessed. She was tough.
“You’ll be too busy anyway. They’re going to want to celebrate tonight. We’ll let the system burn-in, and we’ll take a pager, in case anything big happens.”
Ana-Maria was right. The project was already considered a big success, giving them more logistical info than any other system available. It was even a step above our internal systems, although I doubted it would stay that way long.
Our night was already planned for us. We’d head downtown to enjoy some tapas near Plaza Mayor, then head to Corral de la Moreria, the city’s best Flamenco show and restaurant, in the heart of the old city.
We drove back to our hotel, where we quickly freshened up before the drivers appeared to take us downtown.
Let me put this out there. The Spanish play hard. We had two hours of tapas before we even hit the restaurant. Our group was pretty big, nearly a dozen in all. And pretty diverse. We had a general, two colonels, and a smattering of other ranks. Captain Perez was the lowest ranking man with us. Interestingly, there were three pretty, young lieutenants joining us. It balanced the numbers nicely.
Chris was still the center of much of the attention, and I was happy enough to stay in the background, with Captain Perez and Major de Borbon as my guides. They kept me filled in on who everyone was, and guided me through the myriad snacks and drinks available, reminding me to take it easy, the dinner was still to come.
During the first couple of stops, we had a chance to mingle with everyone, discussing our success, and being entertained with tales of old Madrid, and the various establishments carefully selected for us.
The young ladies were all assistants to the flag officers, and were dressed for a night on the town, while most of the men remained in uniform. Looking around, I realized all the women were dressed well, for a night on the town. Including the Major who cleaned up very nicely.
“No uniform?” I asked Ana Isabel.
“Not going out. Differences in rank cause too much attention from the casual observer,” she explained.
“So you keep an outfit like this around, just in case?” I asked, picking at the sleeve of her form fitting burgundy sheath dress. It was perfect for her, and my best guess was that it was designed that way. With her stiletto heals she was over six feet, towering over the other women and several of the men.
“No,” she laughed. “I knew the plans, if everything went smoothly. This is a very big deal for these men. They, how do you say, went on a limb, to get this project.”
“Great. No pressure.” I chuckled.
Her smile was nice. “No, Jack. No pressure for you. You did very well. Nobody believed it would be ready this quickly. We were anticipating at least six to eight more weeks, and one more visit. Our experience with contractors meeting deadlines is not that good. You have done a great thing here.”
The tapas lounges were very crowded. They kept us all very close together, and I fell in with the Spanish way, reaching around Ana Isabel, and pulling her close as we sidled up to the bar. She didn’t seem to mind. Not at all. I guess the surroundings, so different from the Officer’s club, let her relax a little more.
Tapas are small snacks, eaten standing, while having a drink. Each of the tapas houses seemed to have their own specialty, so I let Pablo and Ana Isabel choose for me. By our third restaurant, I was feeding the snacks to Ana Isabel. She had a sparkle in her eye.
“You don’t seem very American, Jack. You have the forwardness of a Spaniard,” she said, reaching up to my lips with a piece of chorizo, and popping it in my mouth.
“And how are Americans?” I asked.
“Oh, you know. Very loud, very demanding. And yet very withdrawn around the women, or way too aggressive,” she explained.
I pulled her closer, running my finger across her lips, while my hand slid down to her hip. “I believe you know the wrong Americans, or they know the wrong Spanish women.”
She giggled. “I know what I know. I have met very many Americans, and many other nationalities. You have the heart of a Spaniard.”
“You are too kind, beautiful lady. But I’m just your average Joe,” I insisted.
“I believe there is nothing average about you.” She looked into my eyes as she said it, and I felt my pulse quicken.
I reached up and held her chin, tempted to lean down and kiss her. I leaned in close, our faces only inches apart. “Thank you, carino. And I know there is nothing average about you. You take my breath away.”
She leaned back and laughed out loud. “Oh, that much I already know.” She moved in close and whispered in my ear, “but maybe you will find out.”