A state of disobedience

'How much longer are we supposed to prep the walls, sir?' asked his driver.

'Well, technically, Ricky, we are not supposed to prep them at all. But I'll be damned if I'll let my boys fall into another trap . . . and all it took to get this half battery of guns was throwing my weight around a bit. The Army types weren't happy with it but . . . so what? Anyway, we'll pound them until I am sure there are no working claymores on the outside and that, on the inside, the Guard is reeling with bleeding ears and noses.'

'Sir, if we're not supposed to prep them . . .'

'So? Let the secretary relieve me after the building is taken. For now I am not going to get any more of my boys killed than I can avoid.'

'Sounds good to me, boss.'

* * *

Pendergast shrugged uncertainly. 'So what are we going to do if we haven't a clue where they'll attack from or if they go after all four walls at once, sir?'

'Well . . . casualties have not been that bad so far. Even so I want to pull back as much as we can from the inner perimeter and have a big reserve for when they actually decide to go for it,' answered Williams.

'Makes sense,' Pendergast agreed. 'But we are still going to have to keep a screen on the inner perimeter and wall and that is going to cost.'

'I know,' said Williams, 'but there's nothing else to do for it. So select an initial guard from this area then pull the rest back to the interior.'

'Wilco, sir.'

Another blast shook the exterior of the building as it shook the interior of Williams' and Pendergast's bodies.

'I'll move like the wind, sir.'

* * *

Highway 285, New Mexico

I wish I knew whether this wind was helping or hurting, thought Tripp, breathing with difficulty the dust-laden air kicked up by churning tracks and carried on the stiff breeze. He dropped below to the commander's position in the turret and swept the thing in a medium speed three hundred and sixty degree scan. Nothing much in the thermals. I think it must be helping.

Tripp had run his battalion spaced out along the highway for as long as darkness permitted. With the rising of the sun, however, he'd felt compelled to order his men off the road and into the New Mexican desert. There they had had to slow their breakneck pace considerably. Even so, the tanks and tracks still kicked up a massive amount of dust.

Not for the first time since receiving his orders, Tripp felt an iciness gripping his stomach. I wish to hell I knew what the Marines were doing.

* * *

Washington, DC

Though the ambient temperature was normal and comfortable, the Oval Office held a chill to make fat men shiver. Rottemeyer was in a rage so icy and yet so forceful that her Cabinet and staff—most of them—cowered in her presence. 'What the fuck . . . I say 'what the fuck!' . . . do those goddamned Marine Corps morons think they are up to? Who the fuck do they think they are? Who do they think they are fucking with?'

She paced the Oval Office in a furious snit. Up went a hand to a bookcase; down went a shelf of books to the floor. Out went both hands to a globe; out went the glass of a antique book cabinet as the globe sailed through it. The President worked her way from artifact to antique, from file to phone, destroying everything her strength allowed. Finally she gave out an inarticulate scream of pure frustration and pounded her broad desk with both hands before collapsing back into her chair.

'Willi, they haven't joined the other side, at least. They've just said they're going to sit this one out. That's worth something, isn't it?'

Rottemeyer shot McCreavy a venomous glare. 'Not too much, it isn't. Didn't you yourself tell me that this fucked up everything.'

'It makes it harder,' McCreavy admitted. 'With the west flank no longer threatened the Texans can shift forces to the north and east. And . . . well . . . being honest, no matter what the Marines and the Third Armored Cav have said, there's no guarantee they won't join Texas at some time. And that means that our west flank is open and threatened, potentially.'

Carroll had sat silently through Rottemeyer's tirade. He spoke now in a voice full with wickedness. 'Take their families hostage, Willi. Send a force to Camp Pendleton, California and grab the wives and kids.'

McCreavy's eyes opened very wide in stunned disbelief. 'You are out of your mind to even suggest such a thing,' she said, turning them onto Carroll. 'Are you going to grab the families of 2^nd Marine Division too? How about all of the Army's? The Air Force's? The Navy's?'

Shifting her focus back to Rottemeyer, she exclaimed, 'Willi that is the one thing I can guarantee will turn the entire armed forces against us! If we so much as start to move in that direction we'll be destroyed.'

Looking at the President's face McCreavy's eyes opened wider still, if possible. 'Willi, you just can't be seriously thinking about this.'

'Why not?' Rottemeyer snapped. 'What the hell do I owe those people or their