you and your friends want to meet me. An open field, a warehouse—you name it, and I’ll be there, alone, waiting for you. I’ll be an easy target, Lisa; but I trust you, and I hope you trust me.”
It had been a long time since the teenager had found any reason to trust anyone not of her immediate peer group. But she found herself—to her amazement—trusting this tall, pale-eyed soldier.
“All right,” she said.
“Good! Good, Lisa.” He turned to a sergeant standing nearby. “Sergeant Staples, take the survivors to Decatur, see they are fed and their wounds taken care of. Give them shelter.”
“All of them, Captain?” the sergeant questioned, careful to phrase it so he would not be guilty of disobeying an order.
Captain Jake Devine looked at Lisa, then at the tired group of survivors. “Yes,” he said. “All of them. I want this fighting and killing to stop.”
When Jake turned to the girl, all suspicion was gone from her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, putting a hand on his muscular forearm.
“Trust me, Lisa,” Jake said. “That’s all I ask of you.”
“I… think I do, Jake.”
“Good. You won’t regret it, I promise. When can you meet me, and where?”
“Right here. In…” she looked at her watch “…five hours.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
When the survivors had been loaded onto the trucks, and Lisa and her two friends were gone, a mercenary walked up to Jake. “You slick-talkin’ bastard,” he said. “How do you do it, Jake?”
“I was raised in the church, Tony. It’s my life of clean living. Besides, wouldn’t you really rather fuck than fight?”
“Any day.”
“Okay. We just keep on doing it my way. Hartline don’t give a shit how it’s done—just as long as it gets done. It’s easier this way.”
“Damn sure can’t deny that,” the merc said. “How about them survivors we picked up down in Marion?”
“Why… Tony,” Jake smiled. “We’re their friends. Friends don’t hurt friends. Friends care for friends. Make sure they’re comfortable, have enough to eat, a warm place to sleep. In two weeks, Tony, they’ll spit in the face of Ben Raines. Bet on it.”
“You’ll get a promotion out of this, Jake.”
“Oh, I intend to get that, Tony. Don’t ever doubt it. Oh, and Tony? Those people we picked up from that cell in Kokomo?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They are still isolated, aren’t they?”
“No one knows we got ’em.”
“Have you interrogated them fully?”
“I think we’ve gotten all we’re gonna get out of that bunch.”
“Well, after you get this group all settled in and comfy…” He paused to light a cigarette. “…take that bunch out and shoot them.”
Dawn had expected her first full day of work at the camp’s main CP to be uncomfortable—after the events of the previous night. But she found just the opposite to be true. General Raines was friendly, but not forward; he was the boss, but without being overbearing about it.
He fascinated her.
She had heard so many stories about the man: about how tough he was (he seemed like a pussycat to her); about how fierce he was (he was mending the broken wing of a bird when she reported for work that morning); all the whispered and rumored things about him just didn’t hold true in the presence of the man.
“Sleep well?” Ben asked.
“Fine, General. You?”
“Like a baby. You look very nice this morning, Ms. Bellever. What is that fragrance you’re wearing?”
She smiled. “Soap.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Soap. Perfume is rather a short commodity in this camp.”
“Umm,” Ben said. He handed her a list of things he wanted her to do and left the tent.
When she returned from her lunch break, there was a bottle of Shalimar sitting on her desk.
TWELVE
True to his word, Captain Jake Devine was standing alone, leaning against his car, parked on the shoulder of the highway. His M-10 was nowhere in sight; he wore only a holstered pistol at his side.
“You see,” Lisa said, smiling at Jake but directing her remark to the crowd of young people with her. “I told you he’d be here and be alone.”
“The ditches are probably full of government agents and mercenaries,” a young man said, looking furtively around him. “We’re probably all going to be taken and tortured.”
Jake laughed at this. He jerked his thumb toward the back seat of the car. “You young folks want a Coke?”
“A real Coke?” a young lady asked. “I mean, like a real Coke?”
“The real thing,” Jake said, chuckling. “But I bet you’re too young to remember that slogan.”
“I kinda remember it,” a young man said. “But it’s hazy-like.”
“Well, you young folks help yourselves to all the Coke and sandwiches you want. Then we’ll go wherever you want to go and talk about some things.”
“You serious, man?” a very pretty brunette asked. “You alone—with us; wherever we want to go?”
“You got it, young lady. You want my sidearm as a gesture of trust?”
“You’re joking, man!”
“No. I’m very serious.”
“All right!” the suspicious young man said. “Maybe you really are on the level after all.”
“I am. Go on,” Jake gestured to the car. “Eat and drink—I know you’re all probably famished.”
“You’re too much, Captain,” one of the older of the crowd said, taking in the captain’s bars on Jake’s shoulders. He was all of twenty-one. “You’re not like a government man at all.”
Jake’s smile was sad. “Some of the agents are a bit… shall we say, overzealous in the performance of their duties. If I had my way, I’d dismiss those men. But,” he shrugged, “it’s really no worse than Ben Raines’s people assassinating fifty FBI agents and then strapping them in the seats of an airplane, blood and guts and brains hanging out, and shipping them back to their wives and girlfriends and mothers and fathers. I think that is rather… gruesome, don’t you agree?”
“If he did it,” a young man said.
“Oh, he did it,” Jake replied. “I have the pictures of that… sight. I’ll be more than happy to show them to you.”
“Gross!” a young lady said. “I think I’ll pass, man.”
“Anytime you wish to see them.”
“Where do we go to talk?” Lisa asked.
Jake shrugged. “Anywhere you like.”
“Can I have another sandwich?” a boy asked.
“You smell very nice, Ms. Bellever,” Ben said, entering the tent.
“Thank you for the perfume, General.”
“You’re more than welcome.” His eyes drifted over her olive-drab-clad body, taking in all the curves. “I think you ladies must do something to those field clothes.”
