Oath of Honor

the wide pine plank floors. His broad, rough face was ruddy from the

subzero temperatures.

“Close the door, Derek,” Franklin said, “and see that we’re not

disturbed.”

“Yes, sir.” Derek backed out and pulled the door shut.

“Hooker,” Franklin said, “what do you have to report?” He didn’t

offer Hooker a seat. The man was a hired gun, muscle. Necessary, but

not part of his inner circle. He paid him well, and that was all that

mattered.

“I’ve got a contact with the connections we need in DC,” Hooker

said. “It won’t be cheap.”

• 49 •

RADCLYfFE

“Money is not a factor,” Franklin said, “but discretion is.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. He doesn’t know who I’m

working for. He doesn’t want to know.”

“All the better.” Franklin leaned back in his leather swivel chair

and steepled his hands in front of his chest, regarding Hooker carefully.

His presidential campaign was gaining strength in the heartland, but

Andrew Powell was a popular incumbent. He needed to cast doubt

on Powell’s ability to lead the country through increasingly troubled

times. He needed insurance. This man promised it to him. “What about

obtaining the material?”

“He’ll set me up.” Hooker shrugged. “But we might have to get in

bed with the militia to accomplish the actual acquisition.”

Franklin shook his head. “I don’t like exposing ourselves to

hotheads, and after the fiasco at Matheson’s compound, the whole

bunch of them are going to be under surveillance. I can’t afford to be

linked to them.”

“That’s what you hired me for—I’ll run interference and make

sure nothing blows back on you.”

Hooker smiled, a slow just-short-of-ugly smile that set off warning

blips on Franklin’s radar. If Hooker hoped to put him in his debt, he was

wrong. Throughout his rapid rise to power in the senate and on the

path to winning the presidential nomination, he’d had to make deals

and promise paybacks, but he was always careful not to give anyone

leverage on him. He never let anyone other than Nora Fleming know

the whole of his plans. Nora Fleming was more than his campaign

manager. She was the only one who shared his vision—not his wife,

not his children, not his staff. As the leader of the Patriot Party, he was

running for president on a platform of reinstating traditional American

values of family, morality, and religion. His family was an essential

element of his image—but Nora was his true support.

“Just remember—plausible deniability,” Franklin said. “We need

a lot of distance between my campaign and the activities of these

radicals.”

“Not to worry. The inside man at Eugen Corp—”

Franklin held up his hand. “I don’t want to know names or details.

Just get it done.”

“Of course.”

“And when it’s over, everyone involved needs to disappear.”

• 50 •

Oath Of hOnOr

Hooker winced as if Franklin had breached some unspoken rule

about what could be spoken out loud. Franklin almost laughed. As if

his security wasn’t the best in the world. Even Andrew Powell’s inner

sanctum wasn’t as secure as he thought.

“The only way to ensure secrecy is by guaranteeing silence,”

Franklin said softly. “I don’t care how you do it.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Hooker finally said. “And the targets?”

“I want the country to know Andrew Powell is not only soft on

terrorism and foreign affairs, his whole government is soft. When

the people see he can’t protect them, even within our own borders,

they’ll make the right and logical choice at the polls.” Franklin lifted a

shoulder. “I want a public forum, with media coverage.”

“Civilian casualties could backfire. Look at what happened in

Oklahoma.”

“The threat alone will be enough. And if there are casualties…”

Franklin waved a hand. “McVeigh and Nichols were amateurs.

Hotheads. That’s exactly the reason I don’t want to get involved with

another one of these militia groups.”

“You still need foot soldiers—more than that, you need followers

who are willing to sacrifice for the cause. You don’t have much

choice.”

“Then I want absolute containment. No breaches. No leaks.

Nothing that ties us to them or the events.”

“I understand.” Hooker’s eyes went flat. “You don’t need to

worry.”

“If we time this right,” Franklin said, “Powell’s standing will

plummet before his campaign even gets started. The groundswell of

negative publicity will bury him.”

“I’ll keep you informed.”

“Contact me by phone when you have more for me. Good night.”

Hooker let himself out, and Franklin turned off his desk light,

letting the room fall into shadow. Through half-closed eyes, he watched

the dim glow of Hooker’s taillights recede down the mountain into

the darkness. He was forced to consort with unsavory characters in

order to achieve his goals. That didn’t bother him. His was the path

of righteousness. Someone needed to take back control of the nation,

to redirect America’s course and restore her to greatness and power.