Ashes - Fire In The Ashes Part 32

Like father and mother, like son and daughter.

Steve was conscious of Ben watching him very closely, waiting for his reply.

"Because many of the teachers are afraid they'll lose their jobs, Ben. They are afraid they will not come up to your expectations."

Ben smiled. "But Steve, we haven't even discussed guidelines. Aren't they getting a little panicky for no reason?"

The teacher met the revolutionary's eyes. "All right, Ben-you want to cut right through the grease to the meat. Okay. Many of themknow they will lose their jobs. They are fully aware they cannot meet any standards set higher than the ones currently in practice. There it is."

"That's their problem. They can learn to adjust."

"What if they are fine teachers but still somewhat, shall we say, immoral outside the cla.s.sroom?"

"Get rid of them."

"Ben..."

"No! I will not have drunks, womanizers, wh.o.r.es, bigots, playboys, or playgirls shaping the minds of this nation's young people. d.a.m.n, Steve! Kids have to have someone they can look up to standing in front of that cla.s.s. And I meanstanding . Unless the teacher is handicapped and unable to stand.

"The teachers that will staff the public schools of this nation will be of the highest quality, and they will be very highly paid. And their personal lives will be exemplary. Religion has nothing to do with it. I don't care if they are Christian or atheist. Religion is not going to be taught in the public schools.

"There is a very great difference in religion and ethics. Just do it, Steve. You said you could, I believe you, so do it. Steve, we can't have a government based on common sense without the citizens of that nation openly practicing ethics and honesty and trust. If those qualities are not taught at home, then they must be taught in our schools."

Steve gave a mighty sigh. "You are going to stir up a hornet's nest, Ben."

"Steve, I've been making waves for forty years. My daddy said I came out of the womb arguing with the doctor."

Steve laughed. "I don't doubt that, Ben. I really don't." He stood up. "All right, Ben. It sounds so easy the way you put it."

"It's going to be anything but easy, Steve. If it was easy it wouldn't be worth a d.a.m.n."

The men shook hands and Steve left to do his task. The intercom buzzer sounded on Ben's desk.

"A General Altamont to see you, sir."

"Who?"

"Representative Altamont's brother, sir."

Ben was thoughtful for a moment. A sense of alarm sounded silently in his guts. "Susie? We'll be rolling on this one."

"Yes, sir."

Which meant everything was to be taped.

Five.

Just before Captain Dan Gray slit the throat of one of Hartline's mercenaries, the man gasped, "Just outside Pekin."

Gray took the life from the bullet-riddled man with one expert slash. He looked at his team. "You all heard him. Get on the horn and call the others on tach."

That done, one of his men said, "d.a.m.n sure narrows it some."

"d.a.m.n sure does, lads," Gray grinned, wiping his b.l.o.o.d.y knife on the dead man's s.h.i.+rt. "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 bl.u.s.tered.

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, n.i.g.g.e.r-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 s.h.i.+t 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 b.u.t.ton 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 h.e.l.l out of a lot of units and caused several hundred thousand men to be s.h.i.+fted around, out of standard position. G.o.dd.a.m.n, 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."

"h.e.l.l, Vern," General Driskill of the Marine Corps said, "what can we do ... really? We're up against it.

We allthink 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."

"d.a.m.ned if that's so!" a Marine sergeant major said.

Laughter.

Parley said, "I don't believe we can afford to move. But if we don't, what do we do-just sit on our hands and wait for war?"

"I think it's out of our hands," Admiral Newcomb of the Coast Guard said. "We're d.a.m.ned if we do and d.a.m.ned if we don't. If we do expose the location of the sub-where wethink it is-we stand a good chance of war. A very good chance of war. I think we're in a box. If we expose the traitors, they'll fire anyway. And we're not supposed to have that type of missile."

"Which is a bad joke," Sergeant Major Rogers of the Marine Corps said in disgust. "Russia's still got us outgunned two to one in missiles of the conventional nuclear type. G.o.d only knows how many germ-type warheads they have." He forced a grin. "Of course, we have a few of those ourselves. Jesus! Thirty d.a.m.ned guys control the fate of the entire world. Even worse than that, if our intelligence is correct, it's a double double cross."

Master Chief Petty Officer Franklin, of the Navy, looked across the table. "Admiral? Do you-any of you-know for sure just who we can trust?"

The admiral shook his head. "No, not really. We don't know how many of our own people are in on this ... caper."