Empire

“Sounds like they’re hyping a TV show,” said Cessy.

When Cole’s segment came on, Reuben felt like leaving the room. He liked this soldier, he trusted him, but military people were notoriously bad on television. They kept their cool, yes, but they didn’t let anything show. They usually came across wooden. Scripted, even.

Cole, though, looked like a real guy. With normal human emotions. At first O’Reilly got him talking about the fight at the Tidal Basin. And Cole told it clearly but humanly—it didn’t sound memorized. He skipped around a little. And when he talked about how they didn’t get the other launcher in time, he choked up and it looked genuine. “People call us heroes but it doesn’t feel like that,” said Cole. “It feels like mission failure.”

“But it wasn’t your mission,” said O’Reilly.

“My mission is to defend the United States of America and its Constitution, sir,” said Cole. “It was being attacked, and there was nobody else close enough to make a difference. Rube and I—Major Malich and I, we both keep thinking, what if we’d chosen a different target. Driven a little faster. Run harder. Shot sooner. One second, and maybe we could have stopped it.”

“In my book you are a hero, Captain Coleman,” said O’Reilly. “Heroes don’t always succeed. They’re the ones that try.” Then he took a commercial break with the promise that there’d be more with Captain Cole after the ads.

“So far so good,” said Cecily.

“He didn’t go to Fox News to talk about the Tidal Basin,” said Reuben.

When the show came back on, it wasn’t just Cole on the screen. There was also an inset showing General Alton. “Joining us from our Washington studio is General Chapel Alton. Thanks for joining us, General.”

“It’s an honor to be on the program with Captain Coleman, sir,” said Alton.

“Oh, right, like he doesn’t know what Cole’s going to talk about,” said Reuben.

“It’s television,” said Cessy. “War by other means.”

When O’Reilly turned to him, Cole briefly told about his lunch meeting with General Alton. Reuben liked the way he told it without anger, though a little bit of outrage did creep into his voice.

But then it was Alton’s turn, and this guy was a pro. He showed no anger, either. In fact, he immediately apologized. “Captain Coleman is a great soldier. I took him to lunch because I wanted to get to know him better. I knew his service record, which is excellent. I’d seen the video that everybody else has seen.”

“Did you say the things Captain Coleman tells us you said,” O’Reilly asked him.

“I warned him about what the media was going to do to him. We’ve already seen some of it on several news programs. Things that certain members of Congress are saying. Why were these two soldiers there in the first place, armed, in a city park? And of course Major Malich had already broken protocol and told The Post about his having designed a similar contingency plan, so that was hitting the fan, too. I warned him about the turmoil he was going to face.”

“Nothing about a coup? Stopping the media from casting aspersions on Captain Coleman and Major Malich?”

“In my effort to express sympathy with his predicament, sir, I’m sure I must have said things that Captain Coleman misconstrued. I’m sorry if I led him to a false impression about just how much support he was going to get. We believe in civilian leadership of the military in this country, period. I took it for granted that he would know that our support for him would stop at that line.”

O’Reilly turned to Cole. “Well, Captain Coleman? What do you say to that?”

“Don’t get mad,” whispered Cessy.

“First,” said Cole, “I have to correct one thing—Major Malich and I were not armed. After we realized what was happening, we obtained arms from the ranger station in the park.”

“Don’t digress, don’t digress,” murmured Reuben.

“No, it’s okay,” said Cessy. “He’s establishing credibility.”

“I’m glad to hear that General Alton now disavows any of the plans he described to me at lunch today. I urged him to do so at the time. But I can assure you, Mr. O’Reilly, that there was no mistake. General Alton was quite specific. He regarded the assassination of the President and Vice President and Secretary of Defense as a pretext for a left-wing assault on the Constitution. His plans were all designed to forestall that, he said. But they were quite specific.”

While Cole was talking, Alton made the mistake of doing some eye-rolling. “Bad form, General,” said Cessy. “Makes people dislike you. Makes people think you’re lying.”

There was a little more back and forth, with Alton showing a little anger—not much, just enough to weaken him.

“This is a guy who does congressional hearings,” said Cessy. “I’m surprised he’s letting it get under his skin.”

“It’s because he’s lying,” said Reuben.

“Oh, come on. Like they don’t lie to Congress.”

“They spin to Congress.”

“Well, he’s spinning this, too, isn’t he? ‘I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.’ That’s fartspeak for ‘I said it, you jerk, but you weren’t supposed to tell.’ ”

“’Fartspeak’?”

“That’s what we called it on the hill,” said Cessy.

But now Cole was speaking again. O’Reilly had just given his famous “I’ll give you the last word” line, even though he usually said something after them so it wasn’t last after all.

“I’m talking to all the soldiers who watch your show, Mr. O’Reilly. Remember, you’re citizens first. Citizens of a country where the military doesn’t decide things, the elected people do. If we break that rule they’ll never trust us again. The country might be screwed up, but if you get an order to point your weapon at Americans who are just doing their job, don’t obey that order. Point your weapon at the guy who gave it.”

For a moment, O’Reilly was speechless. Maybe even breathless. “I pray to God nobody ever needs that advice in this country, Captain Coleman.”

“Me too,” said Cole.

And then they were off to more ads.

“Think Cole’s gonna get his own TV show now?” said Reuben. “Like Ollie North?”

“He was great. Gave me chills.”

“Yeah, but I got chills for another reason.” Reuben pressed the rewind button on the DVR. “Watch Alton while Cole is making that last speech.”

He waited for Cessy to see it, but she didn’t. So he showed it again. “Look. He’s enjoying it. See?”

“No, that’s a supercilious smile. He’s mocking it.”

“Right, at the start. But now—see how it changed?”

“He was just tired of holding the expression.”

“He’s happy about something,” said Reuben. “He just lost this interview. Cole owned it. Not that everybody believes Cole, but they believe him enough and dislike Alton enough that they’re going to want to know about it— and Alton’s happy.”

“Because he thinks he won.”

“You’re probably right,” said Reuben. “But like you said, he testifies in front of Congress and shows nothing. But here he rolls his eyes, he smirks. And then, when it’s over, and he damaged himself, he’s satisfied.”

“What would that mean?”

“I don’t know,” said Reuben. “But I think we’ve been played.”

“For suckers?”

“Like a violin.”

“Why would somebody possibly want you to announce that they’re planning a coup against the United States government?”

“It makes no sense,” said Reuben. “But still. It’s like when you’re face to face with a guy who might or might not have a gun under his robes or a bomb strapped to his body and you look him in the eye. You got to be able to read him. Alton reads wrong. That’s all.”

Cessy thought about it in silence for a while. Reuben had long since learned that if he filled such silences with