shut."
"I'll begin as soon as I get my orders," said the General.
"You have your orders."
"Nothing in writing?"
"You know what we need as an outcome. Make an example of someone." Lucas Bennett leaned closer to the General, "Draw some blood."
General Paz squinted as he stared back at the Chief of Staff, "I don't like this. It isn't procedure." The General knew what Lucas meant, but he didn't like having no orders to authorize his mission in the North Country. He had seen death before . . . and the idea of neutralizing scoundrels smuggling contraband from Quebec didn't bother him, but Kyle knew nothing about the people of the North Country. The tactical skills demonstrated by southerners in the Tobacco Wars a year earlier had surprised the White House; the Tobacco Boys, as they were called, inflicted tremendous casualties. In war, missions don't always work out the way they are planned.
"Politics contradicts proper procedure," Lucas explained. "You've come too far not to understand that, Kyle. You're a smart man. Don't worry, we don't plan on pissing anyone off before the election. If we succeed in settling the North Country problem, President Winifred gets the credit and you move up in the party. If it doesn't work out, you get the blame but you still move up in the party. I don't have to tell you how it works."
Now, when Paz's premonitions about the North Country directive had come true, he wasn't about to let an officer under him hang when the White House had initiated the mission.
Lucas broke the stare first, looking to Paz with contempt.
"You're right, General," said the President. Lucas backed off and looked around the room impatiently as President Winifred continued, "But it is a major screw-up and could have been damaging if there had been survivors." Winifred looked at the laptop monitor on his desk that displayed a list of names of Colebrook's Cub Scouts; Butch and Thad Rousell weren't on the list. "Captain Thomas, you're responsible for any loose talk from your team. That action at Dixville was classified top secret and remains that way." He looked to everyone in the room, "Are there any questions?" Clifford then turned to Secretary of Defense Kyle Paz, "General?"
"I would just like to say one thing, sir," Thomas spoke up. He sniffed--and blinked to hold back tears, "I've been a disappointment to you. I accept any action taken against me, sir." Captain Thomas firmed his jaw and resumed his military posture; the large, solidly built man stood statuesque.
"Don't worry about it, Captain. You're dismissed." Winifred reached for his computer, closed out the program, and opened a hand-held planner for the day's itinerary.
Captain Thomas saluted the inattentive President before walking out the door. General Paz followed him.
The President combed his fingers through his sun-bleached hair. "I have to talk to the press in twenty minutes, Luc." He looked up from the screen, "Are we set up?" Winifred looked presidential: tall and blond, broad-shouldered and slim at the hips. He had survived many scandals throughout his political career. By now, nothing could startle him.
"We're set." He waited a moment. "But what do you want me to do with Thomas?"
"You said there was no paperwork," Winifred answered. "He's a soldier. Soldiers do what they're told. We need to concern ourselves with civilians."
"You have a private interview now with CBS News," Bennett reminded the President.
"Oh, that's right. I see it here." Winifred smiled and closed the screen to his planner and strode over to his private office through an adjacent door.
Bennett smiled, he loved manipulating the news media. They favored their