Remington stopped ten feet from the man, well out of range of an easy grab. “Sir, I’m asking you one more time to vacate these premises. This is a very sensitive area.”
The man scowled. “You’re supposed to save us.”
“You were told to leave days ago,” Remington said. “Leave this room. I’m no longer asking you. This city is under martial law, and I’m the law.”
“I want a plane,” the big man said. “I know you can make that happen.”
Rage hammered Remington’s temples. He wasn’t going to brook insubordination, and something like this could undermine his authority.
Smoothly, without warning, he drew his sidearm and took immediate aim at the man. The man stood his ground, jaw thrust out defiantly. Dispassionately, Remington shot the man in his left thigh, aiming for the thick meat of the outer thigh so he wouldn’t accidently nick the femoral artery and kill him.
The pistol report cracked loudly inside the building. All the techs, and even the security men, stepped back as the man dropped to the floor. Shock twisted his face and pulled his mouth into a gaping O of surprise.
“You can’t-,” one of the civilians started to say.
Remington pointed the pistol at that man, putting an instant halt to the objection. The man threw his hands up in front of his face and turned away.
“Anybody else want to make any demands?” Remington asked calmly.
No one responded.
Remington didn’t put his pistol away, but he did drop it to his side. “We’re in desperate straits here. The army is doing the best that it can. You will not interfere with the command post again.” He flicked his glance to the security teams. “I don’t want to have to shoot another civilian to enforce something you should already be doing. If I do, you’ll be in lockdown. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” one of the men responded. The others quickly nodded.
The wounded man wrapped both hands around his bleeding leg.
“Get this man to medical,” Remington said. “Have them patch him up.” He glanced at the man writhing on the floor. “Once they’re done with you, if you feel like walking out of the city, be my guest.” He waved to the security team.
Quickly the soldiers herded the civilians out of the building. They carried the wounded man.
Remington glanced around the room. Every eye was fixed on him. The OneWorld NewsNet team shot footage. Remington idly wondered when they’d started filming and suspected it had been from the beginning.
“We’re facing a crisis,” Remington stated. “I’m not going to settle for saving a handful of people. I’m going to save us all. And no one is going to prevent me from doing that.”
He said that as forcefully and believably as he could, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the room who wasn’t convinced he was able to deliver on that promise.
36
United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 0723
“Mrs. Gander?”
Megan looked up from the yellow legal pad she worked on. A young corporal stood at Major Thomas Francher’s door and regarded her expectantly.
“I’m Mrs. Gander.”
The corporal looked a little bleary-eyed, but he smiled all the same. “Yes, ma’am. I figured that you were.”
When Megan looked around, she discovered that she was still the only one in the waiting room. She’d wanted to get here first thing to ensure she would be able to meet with Major Francher, the base commander’s right-hand man. Her time while waiting had been divided between the small television in the corner and the legal pad.
FOX News continued to carry coverage of the attack on Sanliurfa, but other breaking news stories occupied the screen as well. Paranoia over the disappearances still raged and caused riots as well as individual problems.
One of the main stories that had shocked Megan to her core involved the burning of a church in Atlanta. A crowd had objected to the pastor’s delivery of a message about the Tribulation, and they’d burned the church to the ground. Thankfully no serious injuries had come of it.
Everyone remained afraid and uncertain, though many people simply tried to bury themselves in their lives as if nothing had happened. They went back to jobs and routines. Megan had seen similar instances at the post. In the end, that wasn’t going to work. Denial never kept bad things from happening.
Megan stood, smoothed her dress, and shoved the legal pad into her tote. She followed the corporal into the major’s office.
“Ah, Mrs. Gander.” Major Francher was a big man and had put on a few extra pounds since drawing the desk assignment, but he appeared dedicated and alert. The fact that he was at his desk before seven thirty said a lot. He waved her to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please. Have a seat.”
The office definitely belonged to a man. Pictures of past postings, of children involved in sporting activities, and of Francher fishing hung on the walls. Manuals filled the bookshelves, but there were a few paperback thrillers as well.
Megan sat and put her tote beside the chair. “You’re working early today, Major.”
Francher sat and smiled. “I think a lot of us are. I know from several people that you’re burning the candle at both ends these days.”
“And maybe in the middle as well.”
Francher’s smile broadened. “I’d agree with that assessment.” He spread his hands. “So what brings you to me?”
“They tell me that your office is the shortest route to the base commander’s ear.”
Francher leaned back in his chair and looked wary. “Sometimes, I suppose,” he admitted. “Depends on the subject matter.”
“The subject matter,” Megan said, making her voice strong and trying not to think about Goose facing down the Syrian army along with so many other men whose children and families she knew, “is the Ranger unit over in Sanliurfa.”
Francher sighed, and his shoulders bowed slightly. “That’s a tough situation. If you came here to ask us what we’re doing to help those soldiers, we’re doing everything humanly possible.”
“I believe you.”
“It’s just that we’re spread so thin over there now, and there are a lot of problem areas. I don’t have to tell you that a number of countries blame the United States for the disappearances because we’re the last superpower remaining and because we’re known for pushing science when it comes to developing superweapons.”
“No, you don’t,” Megan agreed. “The situation around the globe is complicated. I understand that.”
A puzzled expression filled Francher’s face. “Okay, you’ve stymied me. Maybe I’m more tired than I thought, because I have no clue what you’re here to talk about.”
Megan considered how to lay out what she’d come to say. Deciding how best to do that had consumed her thoughts, and she was nervous that she still didn’t know. Just put it out there. This is in God’s hands. Let Him do the heavy work.
She cleared her throat and began. “I’ve been in discussions with some of the other base wives, Major, and several of us are in agreement about this matter.”
Francher grinned hesitantly. “Sounds potentially scary already. With everything going on, there aren’t a lot of people agreeing with anybody about anything.”
Megan had thought about the ways she could present what she wanted to say. Different approaches existed, but none of them seemed any less troublesome or more honest than the naked truth. “Those Rangers in Turkey need help,” Megan said. Start with the undeniable facts. Keep him in safe territory. “They need support staff.
