Fire in the Ashes

That done, one of his men said, “Damn sure narrows it some."

“Damn sure does, lads,” Gray grinned, wiping his bloody knife on the dead man's shirt. “Let's go."

They were fifty miles south of Pekin.

* * * *

Matt let the tortured body of the mercenary fall to the cold white earth. He looked at the mercenary's trussed-up buddy. His eyes were as cold as the snow that was slowly being stained red under the body of the merc.

“You want to die this hard?” Matt asked.

“Man—you're nuts!"

That got him a kick in the teeth. The mercenary spat out pieces of broken teeth and blood. “I'd rather not die at all."

Matt just looked at him.

“Outside Pekin—‘bout ten miles."

“Which direction?"

“East."

Matt cut his throat and left him beside his buddy.

* * * *

The ex-Green Beret smiled at the mercenary. “My granddaddy used to tell me stories about his granddad. He rode with the Comancheros in Texas. Ever seen a man hung up by his ankles with his head ‘bout a foot from a slow fire?"

Ike and an ex-Marine Force Recon squatted in the cold empty house and waited.

“You wouldn't do that to me?” the mercenary blustered.

Ike's team member grinned. It was, the mercenary thought, the ugliest grin he had ever seen.

“I guess you would,” the mercenary said. “I tell you where she is, I die easy—is that it?"

“You got it."

“Tremont. Just outside Pekin.” The mercenary cut his eyes to Ike. “Long time, Mississippi boy."

“It's growing very short, Longchamp."

“We went through UDT together, Ike."

“That don't make us brothers."

“I don't think you can do it, nigger-lover,” the onetime UDT man said with a grin.

He was still grinning as Ike shot him through the heart with a silenced .22 Colt Woodsman.

“I reckon he figured camaraderie went further than it oughtta,” the ex-Green Beret said.

“He never was worth a shit at figurin,'” Ike said. “Let's go."

* * * *

“Let's stop dancing, General,” Ben said. “Sit down and put the cards face up."

The AF general smiled and removed a small boxlike object from his briefcase.

Ben ruefully returned the man's smile.

Altamont began a search with the dial until Ben stopped him with a curt slash of his hand. “I'm taping, General.” He punched a button on his desk. “Stop taping, Susie."

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Am I to take you at your word, Mr. President?"

“I don't lie, General."

The general studied Ben's face for several long seconds. “All right, sir. I believe you."

“Why so hinky about my taping our conversation?"

“You have ... ah ... shall we say, more than your share of people who dislike you intensely."

“To say the least. That isn't news."

“You are aware of my brother backing Lowry and Cody and Hartline?"

“Yes."

“He is not loyal to you, sir."

“Are you?"

Altamont smiled. “Yes, sir—believe it or not. I was the one feeding false information to my brother and his ... ah ... colleagues."

Rain began drumming on the window, the drops mixed with ice and sleet. The winter sky darkened, casting a shadowy pall on the Oval Office and its occupants. Ben waited.

“I want you to know I am not a traitor to my country, sir. I was one of those who met in the Missouri lodge, back in ‘88. Just before the bombings."

“Yes, I know."

* * * *

Tension, heavy and ominous, hung in the huge room as the room filled with men in groups of twos and threes. Each man seemed to know exactly where to sit, although no name tag designated individual place. The men looked at each other, nodded, and took their places at the huge square table.

The men were military. Line officers and combat-experienced chiefs and sergeants. Career men.

There were generals and colonels of all branches; fifteen sergeant majors and master chiefs making up the enlisted complement.

Guards were sentried around the two hundred acres of Missouri hill country. They wore sidearms in shoulder holsters under their jackets.

“Who ordered this low alert the press is talking about?” the question was tossed out.

“It came out of the Joint Chiefs. It's confused the hell out of a lot of units and caused several hundred thousand men to be shifted around, out of standard position. Goddamn, it's going to be days before they get back to normal. We not only don't know who issued the orders, but why."

“Maybe to get us out of position for the big push?"

“I thought we had more time—months even?"

“Something's happened to cause them to speed up their timetable,” General Vern Saunders of the Army said. “That means we've got to move very quickly."

“Hell, Vern,” General Driskill of the Marine Corps said, “what can we do ... really? We're up against it. We all think we know where ‘it’ is. But we're not certain. Do we dare move? If we do, what will be the consequences?"

Admiral Mullens of the Navy looked around him, meeting all eyes. “I don't think we dare move."

Sergeant major of the Army, Parley, stirred.

The admiral said, “If you have something on your mind, Sergeant Major, say it. We're all equal here."

“Damned if that's so!” a Marine sergeant major said.

Laughter.