The Myriad Resistance (15 page)

The president glanced up and saw us watching. He composed himself and got to his feet.

“Lovely service, gentlemen. Although I never pictured myself being put to rest in a mining camp next to a rock quarry. That has to be a first for presidents,” he said with an uneasy laugh.

“You shouldn't have come, Mr. President,” Danny said with respect. “I warned you it would be unsettling.”

He blinked as if not comprehending. “Oh … this?” he said pointing to his eyes. “I must admit, it was an odd experience.” He paused as if searching for the right words. “No, I was mourning my family. I don't know if they are okay or if I will ever see them again.”

His voice quivered as he finished. The emotional vibration to his Impal voice reminded me of a Theremin instrument from one of those old science-fiction movies. I think it was the most pitiful noise I have ever heard.

“It's all my fault … this whole damn thing is my fault. If I hadn't been so weak, so vulnerable …” his voice trailed off as more silvery tears streamed down his face.

My heart went out to him. Not because this was uncharacteristic behavior for the leader of the free world, but because I knew it was genuine. He gained a reputation for wearing his heart on his sleeve during the campaign. He shed tears during one of the debates as he professed his love for his country and the brave men and women who serve it. His critics called it a stunt. I didn't believe that. I think it is the mark of a man who cares. Most Americans agreed with me. He took a sizable lead in the polls after that debate and ran away with the election.

“It's not your fault, Mr. President,” I said. “It's my father's. He fooled us … he fooled us all.”

The president got up and strode over to me. He put his hand on my shoulder; the cold of his touch was unsettling, yet appreciated.

“You're a good man, major,” he said. “I do not hold your father's actions against you. In some strange way he believes he is doing the right thing.”

“So did Hitler,” I said. Like an involuntary belch, it was out of my mouth before I knew it.

He considered me through narrowed eyes for several moments. Soon, a wry smile creased his shimmering face. “No, Hitler didn't have an honorable son,” he said and then turned back in the direction of the mine.

“Okay, colonel … I'm going back to time-out now,” he proclaimed as we started to walk with him. The president turned to Danny with a smirk on his face. “And do me a favor please. Don't get me those cheapo batteries anymore, they make me itch,” he said as he pretended to scratch his arms. “Get me some Duracells or Energizers or something!” he snapped.

Danny took his request very seriously and promised to requisition a case for him at once. I, on the other hand, never heard of an Impal getting an itch from generic batteries. I suspected this was the president's attempt at humor. He confirmed this a few moments later when he turned and winked at me. Danny continued to yammer on how every Impal would get only name brand batteries from here on. I liked this man and was sorry to see him in this state, especially being separated from his family. I made a silent vow to do whatever I could to reunite him with his family or at the very least find out how they are doing.

I knew deep down my options were limited. We were secluded and his family is monitored day and night. The biggest problem was the president would be leaving the country with the other Impals. It would happen in the near future and that gave me no time.

When we reached the mine, Danny and I entered under the tarp with the president. I noticed his unease as we walked across the barrier between the tarps. This was understandable since he had just gotten the crap beaten out of him in here last night.

When we entered the mine, my breath escaped me again. The surreal atmosphere of the low lantern light and the ethereal shimmer of the Impals astounded me. I spotted Chief Powhatan and President Abraham Lincoln sitting side by side in a couple of folding chairs. The two men seemed to be having an intense conversation. The chief spotted me and raised his right hand in greeting. I returned the gesture as Lincoln got up and walked over to us.

“Are you all right, Mr. President?” Lincoln asked, addressing the president.

“Fine, fine … I have never felt better,” the president said. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue last night.”

I raised an eyebrow at Danny. I was under the impression that
he
had come to the President's defense.

“Well … I finished him off,” Danny said.

“That you did, sir! That you did!” Lincoln said with jubilation. “I only hit him a few times with one of those squench buckets,” he said, suppressing a laugh.

I guess it would explain the crusty appearance of Andrews's hair this morning and his determination to get a shower.

I knew Lincoln met Thomas Pendleton and his son, Seth, because Thomas told me. “Did you get the term from Thomas and Seth?” I asked.

Lincoln's face changed as if someone threw cold water on him. “Well I'll be darned … you know them? Where are they … are they here? They disappeared several weeks ago in the city and I haven't seen them since. Please tell me they are okay.”

My somber expression and a single shake of my head was all the answer the former president required. “The accursed Gate?” he exploded.

I didn't answer.

“Damn that man, damn that man to Hell!” Lincoln snapped. “I watched that vile man for a long time in the White House, even before he could watch me back. I always knew there was something sinister about him!” He paused for a moment as if something suddenly popped into his head. “How did Thomas …?” he asked, trailing off as if he already knew the ghastly answer.

“He was trying to save Seth,” I said.

“Damn that sadistic son of a whore!” Lincoln continued in an uncharacteristic rage. “How he ever became a general is beyond me. If he were on my watch I would bust him down so far, he could kiss his own ankles without bending over!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Lincoln realized he put his proverbial foot in it. Regret etched his noble face. “I'm sorry, Mr. President,” Lincoln said. “I know what the circumstances were like for you … I didn't mean anything by what I said. You are a good and honorable man and a good president.”

“No, you are absolutely right Mr. President; I should have done more,” he said.

The two men stood in uncomfortable silence for several moments. Finally, Lincoln broke the tension. He turned to me and extended his hand.

“I don't think we have been properly introduced, I'm Abe Lincoln. You can call me Abe.”

I grasped his hand and flinched a little from the extreme cold of his touch.

“I'm Cecil, Cecil Major,” I said. I wasn't about to tell him my real name and let him put two and two together. The president cut his eyes at me, however he said nothing.

The president's heart was in the right place. He insisted that Danny and I keep our ranks. Unfortunately, he made one of the stupidest statements I have ever heard.

“He is a major in the Army too,” the president said. “I guess he's like the character from
Catch-22,
Major Major.”

Lincoln did not understand the reference. That book was not published until almost a century after Lincoln was assassinated.

“We need to be getting back, Cecil,” Danny said. “We need to go over our evacuation plan.”

“I'm still not too keen on leaving the country,” the current president said. “Not when so much is going on.”

Lincoln was in complete agreement. He didn't want to run away.

“Mr. Presidents,” Danny said, addressing both of them. “We've been over this, you can't stay. It is far too dangerous.”

Danny stopped short of telling both men that they were irrelevant. Neither one of them wielded power anymore. President or not, they were now Impals … public enemy number one. There was nothing they could accomplish by staying, however, Danny did a very kind and decent thing. He gave both of them a purpose.

“The Impals we are evacuating will need guidance and leadership in their new home. I believe the two of you are the best ones to provide it for them.”

They agreed somewhat reluctantly. We excused ourselves to go back to the mess hall.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Danny said as we walked through the woods.

“What?”

“We are going to need all hands on deck when we evacuate the Impals. We also need to have some people left here to guard the camp.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“I want you to help me keep an eye on Andrews. We need him, but we also don't need his hot head getting the best of him.” I nodded as Danny continued. “And I sure as Hell don't trust leaving him here at camp unsupervised.”

“Definitely not with our families here,” I said.

Danny took a deep breath before he made his final request. “I want you to promise me the first time you see him getting even a little out of line, you'll put him down. Put him down and then put the irons on his sorry soul.”

CHAPTER 14

1 TIMOTHY 4:1

“Integrity is the lifeblood of democracy. Deceit is a poison in its veins.”

~Edward Kennedy

I blinked, unsure if I understood.

“You want me to kill him?”

Danny glanced at the other side of the trail as if he heard something. After a few moments, he faced forward and spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “You didn't see him last night … the rage in his eye. There was no remorse, no shred of any compassion; it was if he was filled to the brim with pure hatred.” He paused to wipe the sweat off his brow and then whispered, “He scared the crap out of me, Cecil, and you know I don't admit that lightly.”

My heart skipped a beat. Danny was one of the toughest and most fearless men I have ever known. Even when we experienced combat together in Iraq, I never knew him to display an ounce of fear. The fact that a punk kid like Sam Andrews scared him was enough to throw up a dozen red flags in my head.

“Jesus … to think we have enough to worry about with my father and the rest of the government,” I said.

“Yep, and then we've got a ticking time bomb in our midst,” he said.

“So why the hell do you need him?” I asked, a little ticked off.

Danny sighed. “Because we need all the eyes and ears we can get for this venture and,” he shrugged his shoulders, “because Andrews's brother owns the boats we need to evacuate the Impals.”

I felt my chest constrict. I forgot Andrews's brother owned the boats. So, until the Impals were away; we needed Andrews, temperamental or not.

Danny stopped and grabbed my arm. “I always knew Andrews was a hothead. That's one reason why he has been a lieutenant for years,” he paused and took a deep breath. “What I did not know until a few days ago is Sam Andrews is an alcoholic, a pretty bad one according to Burt.”

No further explanation was needed. We had a tough enough time providing decent food for the camp. Keeping a supply of alcohol was not only impractical, it was also impossible. I was certain that an alcoholic cutoff from the outside world would be going crazy about now. That, coupled with a short temper, presented a very dangerous combination.

“How long has it been since he had a drink?”

Danny shrugged. “I don't know, he's been here at least a week.”

Before I could reply, Derek Vandeputte emerged from the woods a short distance in front of us. The same hunting rifle he used in our makeshift funeral this morning hung over his shoulder.

“How goes patrol?” Danny called to him.

“Taylor and I ran off a couple of hillbillies up on the north ridge. I think they are running a still somewhere up there,” he chuckled.

“Do you think they were suspicious?” Danny asked.

“Maybe a little. We told them this was now a government controlled area and they needed to keep their distance,” Derek said.

“Do you think it worked?” I asked.

“Maybe not. That's why I added the woods are littered with land mines. You should have seen their faces.”

Danny and I couldn't help laughing at the mental image of a couple of slack-jawed hillbillies tiptoeing out of the woods.

“Derek, I'm going to need you and Taylor to be on guard duty next month when we take the Impals out,” Danny said.

You could see the frustration on Derek's face. He wanted to be part of the action. I think my disappointment was every bit as obvious. We would be here until next month.

“It's an important job,” I assured him. “There will be lots of family members here, including my own. I would be honored if you watched over them.”

In all honesty, I would feel more comfortable with Derek keeping an eye on my family. I liked Taylor, but his attraction to my daughter made me uncomfortable, as a father, and as a leader. We just couldn't afford any distractions right now.

“I'll take care of them,” he said with a boyish grin.

It suddenly struck me how young he was. That didn't help my confidence. Nevertheless, Danny and I continued back to the mess hall.

“Next month?” I prodded. “When next month?”

He shrugged.

“Not sure … haven't got that ironed out yet. Sometime in the first couple of weeks of October.”

Only a little over two weeks, I guess it wasn't quite as bad as it sounded. Still … I was hoping it would be sometime in the next couple of days.

When we reached the mess hall, I was surprised to find Steff sitting on an old wooden bench outside the door. Her elbows were on her knees and her chin rested on clinched fists. She wore a disgusted scowl on her face.

“I'm sick of this crappy food!” she huffed. “Will you PLEASE take me to Martian Burgers? I know I saw one on the way in here!”

She was right; I noticed it last night on our way back from DC. There was a Martian Burger in a small town a few miles away. It seemed out of place because the only other things in this town were a gas station and a tiny Post Office. It sounded like a good idea to me, even though I knew we couldn't. I had no cash, I'm sure my debit, and credit cards had been frozen or were being monitored.