Stars and Stripes in Peril by Harry Harrison

Lord Russell, seeing his obvious distress, poured a glass of water and took it to him. The major smile weakly and nodded his thanks, then went on.
    "After the swamps we were back in jungle again. In addition, there is a backbone of low hills running the length of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec which must be crossed. No real difficulties there, though a few bridges will have to be built. Plenty of trees so that won't be a problem. Then, once past the hills, we will be on the Atlantic coastal plain and the grading will be that much easier."
    "You have a completion schedule, I do believe," Lord Palmerston said.
    "We do—and I believe that we will better it. More and more regiments are arriving and they go right to work. We have enough men now so that we can rotate them for the most onerous duty. I can firmly promise you, gentlemen, that when you need the road it will be there."
    "Bravo!" Lord Russell said. "That is the true British spirit. We all bid you a speedy recovery, and sincerely hope that you will enjoy your leave here in London."

A DANGEROUS JOURNEY
    Don Ambrosio O'Higgins left the paddle wheel coaster after dark. A small carpetbag was passed down to him, then a long bundle wrapped in oiled canvas. He seized up the bag, put the bundle over his shoulder and started forward—then stepped back into the shadows. A French patrol had appeared on the waterfront, lighting their way with a lantern. They proceeded carefully, muskets ready, looking in all directions as they came forward. They knew full well that every hand was against them in this country of Mexico. O'Higgins crouched down behind some large hogsheads, staying there until the patrol had passed by. Only then did he make his way quickly across the open docks and into the safety of the now familiar streets of Vera Cruz. There were many other French patrols in the city, but they never penetrated these dark and dangerous back alleys. Too many patrols had been ambushed, too many soldiers had never returned. Their weapons lost, now used to fight the invaders. O'Higgins kept careful watch around him, for not only the French were unsafe in these dismal streets. He emitted a low sigh of relief when he finally reached the merchant's shop. It was locked and silent. O'Higgins felt his way carefully to the rear of the building where he tapped lightly on the back door. Then louder still until a voice called out querulously from inside.
    "Go away—we are closed."
    "Such a cold greeting for an old friend, Pablocito. I am wounded to the core."
    "Don Ambrosio! Can that be you?"
    The bolt rattled as it was drawn back. A single candle lit the room; Pablo resealed the door behind him, and then went to fetch a bottle of the special mezcal from the town of Tequila. They toasted and drank.
    "Any news of interest from Salina Cruz since I went away?" O'Higgins asked.
    "Just more of the same. Reports filter in that the English are still bringing in their troops. The road advances slowly—but it advances. When these invaders are thrown from our country—God willing!—we will at least have the road that they will have to leave behind. Everything else they steal from our country. But a road—no!" Then Pablo touched the canvas-wrapped package with his toe.
    "Another mission?" he asked. O'Higgins nodded.
    "Like you, I fight for the freedom of Mexico. Also like you I do not speak of what I do." Pablo nodded understandingly and drained his glass.
    "Before the French came Mexicans were always ready to fight Mexicans. When the French are driven out they will undoubtedly fight each other again. There are those now out of power who are just biding their time, waiting for the French to leave."
    "I sorrowfully admit that I know little of Mexico's turbulent past."
    "That is a good word for it. Before the Conquistadores came the various Indian tribes warred with one another. Then they warred with the Spanish. When the tribes were defeated they were enslaved. I must tell you that I go to mass and am most