on something else.'
'That may be sooner than you think,' they heard a voice say. The voice belonged to Kevin Martindale. He was watching the demonstration from a corner of the test chamber. The young, handsome, energetic former president stepped over and greeted Patrick and Hal. Kevin Martindale, also a former vice president, had stayed only one term in the White House. He was a strong military advocate, but was voted out of office mostly because of actions he failed to take when the United States was threatened. What the public did not know was that Martindale preferred to use secret, unconventional forces to destroy an enemy's ability to make war before the situation grew worse.
Now Martindale was head of a secret organization called the Night Stalkers, composed of former military men and women, who performed similar unconventional-warfare missions around the world. But these operations were neither ordered nor sanctioned by any government-Martindale and his senior staff decided which missions to perform and how to perform them. In addition, squeezing or outright stealing money, weapons, and equipment from their their defeated opponents usually funded these operations.
'Very impressive,' Martindale said, a fascinated gleam in his eye. These days, Kevin Martindale wore his hair much longer than he did in his days in the White House or Congress, and he had grown a goatee. He looked and acted quite a bit differently than his more conservative, buttoned-down government persona: Patrick hadn't yet decided if he liked the new Kevin Martindale. 'One of Jon Masters's new toys?'
'An old toy with some new tricks,' Hal responded, handing the duffel bag over to Martindale.
He was surprised at how lightweight it was. 'That's it? Everything but the armor and backpack?'
'That doubles the weight-still very transportable.'
'Excellent. We should talk to Jon and see if he-can make a few units available to the Night Stalkers.'
'I'm sure that can be arranged,' Patrick assured him.
'With the usual three-hundred-percent markup,' Hal chimed in with a broad smile as he finished removing the Tin Man battle armor and stowing it in the duffel bag.
'Fine with me-I'm not paying for it,' Martindale responded dryly.
The comment bugged Patrick-it summarized all of Patrick's misgivings about being part of the Night Stalkers. Yes, they were doing important work-capturing international drug dealers and criminals like Pavel Kazakov, the Russian oilman and Russian Mafia chieftain, who had the incredible audacity to bribe generals in the Russian army to invade and occupy Balkan states so he could build a pipeline across those countries and make it more profitable for him to ship oil to the West. They had captured Kazakov and dozens of other terrorists, drug dealers, assassins, and international fugitives in less than a year.
But no one in this group was independently wealthy. They had to do an old infantry soldier's trick taken a few steps further: raid the land as they marched across it. Patrick himself had threatened Pavel Kazakov, one of the world's most wealthy but most dangerous individuals, with taking his life in exchange for the tidy sum of half a billion dollars-he still made sure he was tossed into a Turkish prison, but he also threatened to kill him instead if he didn't pay up. They had stolen guns, computer equipment and data, vehicles, aircraft, ships, and hacked into hundreds of bank accounts of known international criminals to raise money for their operations. The logic was simple: Not only did they arrest the bad guys, but they also substantially reduced their ability to carry on their criminal or terrorist enterprises.
Patrick tried to tell himself that it was all for the common good-but those words kept on ringing hollow.
'Good to see you came through your 'test flight' over Libya all right,' Martindale said to Patrick as they made their way out of the test lab. 'But may I respectfully suggest you just get Dr. Masters to schedule some range time with the Air Force or Army on their ranges in North America to shoot down some missiles.'
'Unfortunately, we can't blame that one on him, sir,' Patrick admitted. 'The test flight idea was mine. Jon wanted to make a big splash to impress the Pentagon, and I picked the closest country I thought would take a shot at us without starting World War Three. It turned out to be one of the most successful test flights we've ever made in a Megafortress, and certainly the most successful one for the Dragon airborne laser.'
'Not too shabby for you either.'
'Sir?'
'I suppose you haven't heard-I heard it from very back-channel sources,' Martindale said. 'You know, of course, that President Thorn has never chosen a national security adviser.'
'Yes, sir. He claims that the purpose of the President's cabinet is to not only administer the government but to advise the President,' Patrick said. 'He claims it's the way our government was set up. He thinks bureaucrats like national security advisers distort and politicize the decisionmaking process.'
'What do you think of that?'
'I think any leader, especially the leader of the free world in the twenty-first century, needs all the advisers he can get,' Patrick replied. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at Martindale carefully. 'Why?'
'Because your name was being bandied about as being on the President's list for national security adviser.' Patrick stopped and looked at Martindale in complete surprise. 'He's putting together his reelection campaign, and the word is that folks would be more comfortable with him in a second term if he had a more identifiable, complete set of advisers-national security adviser being the number-one pick. That, it appears, is you.'
'Me? That's insane!' Patrick retorted.
'Why insane?' Martindale asked. 'After you put together and then commanded that Air National Guard EB-1C Vampire unit over United Korea, you're one of the most popular and well-known military guys out there. Some folks equate you with Jimmy Doolittle putting together the Tokyo air raids in World War Two, or with Colin Powell. The guys who have access can look at your record and just be amazed and awestruck at the stuff you've done. Plus, you have one more advantage.'
'What's that?'
'You're not Brad Elliott,' Martindale said with a smile. 'They look at what you and your team did over Russia and Romania in the Kazakov incident, over Korea, over China, over Lithuania, and all the other secret missions you've been involved in over the years, and they realize that you were fighting for your people-that shows pride, determination, and tenacity. Brad Elliott didn't fight for his people-Brad Elliott gladly sacrificed his people to do whatever he wanted. They know where you're coming from. Thorn likes that. I know you disagree with Thorn on military policy… '
''Disagree'? It goes way beyond 'disagree,' Mr. President! Thorn was the one who had me involuntarily retired from the Air Force! Thorn ordered my wife and son arrested by the FBI, and his Justice Department has got agents watching and listening in on Sky Masters Inc. night and day. Thorn and I have absolutely nothing in common except loathing for each other.'
'In case you haven't noticed, Thorn likes surrounding himself with advisers that disagree with him,' Martindale said. 'In fact, I can't think of one person in his entire administration that thinks like him or is even remotely simpatico with his throwback Jeffersonian ideology. Even his close friend Robert Goff and he constantly butt heads.'
'I'd work with Goff, Kercheval, or even Busick any day,' Patrick said. 'But there is no way in hell I'd ever serve under Thorn.'
'Why?'
'We don't just disagree-I feel his views of the military and America's role in the world suck,' Patrick said. 'America has the moral wisdom to use its military forces to protect peace and freedom around the world. This 'stick-yourhead-in-the-sand' attitude is causing widespread uncertainty in the world, and scumbags like Pavel Kazakov are crawling out of the woodwork and taking advantage of it.'
'Then why wouldn't you go to the White House and tell Thorn what you think?'
'Because you can't talk to guys like Thorn. He's a fanatic, an extremist ideologue. I'd be arguing real-world situations and alternatives to crises that require fast responses, and he'd be quoting Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin. No, thanks.'
'You would decline to accept the nomination?'
'Loudly and publicly,' Patrick said finally.
Martindale nodded. 'Good. You're the heart of this team, Patrick-I hope you know that,' he said sincerely. 'We'd exist without you, but we wouldn't be the samenot nearly as dedicated, not nearly as hard-charging. I'd move heaven and earth to keep you here.'
'Thank you, sir,' Patrick said. 'That means a lot.'
