Flight Leader?”
After making sure he was on the right comms channel, Daniels answered:
“Fuck you.”
His plane shot down the runway.
TWENTY-THREE
“Stop them,” Montfort said.
An unexpected tremor in his hand startled Harris, but he kept the earpiece locked against his head. “Sim, we can do this with conventional means. Al-Ghazi and al-Mahdi have their forces scattered between the Golan and Damascus. I can roll them up. We need to give this a chance.”
“Stop them,” Montfort said. “That’s an order.”
“You can’t give me orders, Sim.”
The distant voice had been waiting for that response, setting him up. “Oh, but I can, Gary. I’ve been given command of your corps. As of one hour ago. I’m only going through you as a courtesy, to save you embarrassment. You’ve been relieved. But we both want to avoid a spectacle, a needless humiliation…”
“I don’t believe you. By whose authority?”
“By order of the president.”
“The president wouldn’t do that. I would’ve heard something.”
“President Gui?”
“Gui’s not president. He’s the vice president.”
The distant voice tut-tutted him. “Gary, your staff isn’t keeping you abreast of things. Didn’t they tell you about the tragedy? While you’re impeding my efforts to win this war, our nation’s in mourning. And not just for those brave souls sacrificed to Muslim bloodthirst.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The president’s helicopter malfunctioned. On the way to Camp David. He’ll be greatly missed.”
“You bastards.”
“Don’t say anything you’ll regret, Gary. You need to join the team now.”
“You bastards.”
“President Gui has already been sworn in. And he’s decided to make some urgent changes. You can either obey the orders of your president, or not.”
“Don’t do this, Sim.”
“We have to avenge what they did to us. To teach them a lesson Islam will never forget.”
“Give me a day. Just one day.”
“And how would that benefit the Lord’s work? An eye for an eye…”
“We don’t have to go nuclear. Not against cities.”
“Nuclear release has already been granted. Theater-wide. And delegated. To me.”
“Don’t do this, Sim. I beg you.”
“We have to finish this, Gary. You must see that. Or will you continue defending Lucifer’s legions to the bitter end?”
“I’m not defending them.”
“Oh, really? What about Nazareth?”
“There are no legions in Nazareth. Lucifer’s, or anybody else’s. Just scared, pathetic civilians shoved into the line of fire. They don’t even have enough water to drink, for God’s sake. They’re not guilty of anything but being alive.
“Didn’t they? Gary, you simply refuse to understand. I’ve been praying for you to see the light, but you still talk to me as if I’m a fool. Of course they’re guilty. This is the great battle foretold in Revelation. All the signs are there.”
“You can’t believe that nonsense.”
“All the signs are there.” Montfort hesitated, but Harris sensed that his old acquaintance hadn’t finished speaking. Then Montfort said, “I’ve been chosen. To finish this. By the Lord, my God. I don’t expect you to understand. Any more than the infidels and devil-worshippers in Nazareth could understand.”
“Sim, you sound like a madman.”
“To a man of no faith. But be that as it may. I’ve given you my order. To halt the movement of all forces subordinate to Third Corps headquarters. Immediately. If any of those Marines have crossed the old Syrian border to the north, they’re to disengage and withdraw immediately. Or they’ll be regarded as traitors. And I will not be responsible for what happens to them. You will.”
“You mean you’ll use nuclear weapons… even if our own troops are killed?”
“Your choice. Not mine.”
“Don’t do this.”
Montfort paused again. Then he said, “You have adequate time to warn the Marines. And anyone else in the proximity of our enemies. Of
“When? When do you intend to finish destroying your godfor-saken Holy Land?”
“The first strikes should hit at 1600,” General of the Order Simon Montfort said calmly. “I’ll be at your headquarters before then. To assume command.”
Lieutenant General Gary “Flintlock” Harris summoned his key officers to his briefing room. He told them what Montfort had said.
“I don’t believe him,” Mike Andretti, the G-3, snorted. “It’s all bluff. More of Montfort’s holy-roller bullshit.”
But Val Danczuk, the G-2, had come in with a stoned-by-something look even before Harris laid things out.
“It’s true, Mike,” Danczuk said. “About the president, anyway. We just got the word. I was going to tell General Harris first, then let him—”
“Fuck, goddamnit,” the G-3 said. “I
“Easy, pardner,” Harris told him. “When I’m gone, it’s going to be up to you and the rest of the old team to do whatever damage control you can. To maintain the Army’s honor. And keep it alive. As long as there’s an Army and they don’t change our oath, the country we grew up in is still there, just taking a little nap.”
“Where are you going, sir?” Harris’s aide, Major John Willing, asked.
“To Nazareth.”
“I’ll go with you,” the aide said. Then the others began to speak.
Harris cut them off. “I’m going alone. It’s better. All of you are going to be needed here.
“Stay with us, sir,” the G-3 said. “We’ll all stand together. He won’t be able to command the corps.”
“A mutiny won’t help,” Harris said. “We’d just play into old Sim’s hands. I need you to stay here and obey his orders. The legal ones.”
“Then at least don’t go to Nazareth, sir. There’s nothing you can do down there. And you know it. He’s just going to rub your face in it.”
“No, Mike. You’re wrong. I
After an embarrassed silence, Val Danczuk said, “I hope that’s just a figure of speech, sir.”
Harris smiled. “Me, too.” Then he turned to his aide. “John, have them get my helicopter ready.” Addressing all of them again, he said, “Thank you. For everything. Now leave me alone for a few minutes.”
