as much mystery as the man himself.
“The President knew of me,” Danvers said evasively. “I was an engineer, not a soldier. My expertise was in global disaster relief. The President saw the outbreak of the infection as a disaster, not a war. That’s why he chose me for the job. It was felt that the country needed someone who could step back from the natural impulse to respond with immediate military action, and instead, build a defense.”
“Which is why you were called the ‘architect’.”
He nodded. “That name came along because of the defensive line I designed.”
I frowned. “Then why are you so secretive? You’re a national hero, and yet there is just one photograph of you circulating in the media – an image that’s about ten years out of date. Why aren’t you standing next to the President with a chest full of medals and giving press conferences?”
“Because I’m not a fucking politician!” Danvers suddenly sparked, and I got my first glimpse of the man’s famous temper. “I don’t kiss babies, and I’m not trying to get elected. I’m not a film star, and I don’t need celebrity. I’m a patriot, Mr. Culver, not a glory seeker.”
There was a pause. I saw something move behind the man’s eyes – the shadow of some emotion that passed in an instant. When he spoke again, his voice was once again calm, restrained.
“I saw what the Army didn’t see,” he said softly. “I saw a swarming enemy that was unlike anything America had ever fought against before. In the history of our military conflicts, we had never faced an enemy like the undead horde. Normal tactics, even our technology, were absolutely useless. It called for a different kind of thinking. The President appreciated that.”
We stared silently at the map for long moments. My eyes were drawn to the dark line that stretched from the Carolina coast all the way across to the Mississippi River: The Danvers Defense Line.
Richard Danvers must have sensed the direction of my gaze. He studied my face for long moments, as if he was trying to read my thoughts.
He sighed. “Once the President appointed me, I went to work immediately,” he said. “I drew up a plan that would contain the infected.” He swept his hand across the map. “Ever heard of the ‘Maginot Line’?”
I had. I was a student of twentieth century history. But I shook my head.
Danvers’s expression turned blank. His eyes became distant like he was recalling information. His voice became flat, almost conversational without the underlying barb of aggravation.
“The Maginot Line was a line of concrete fortifications , obstacles, and weapons installations that France constructed along its borders with Germany way back during the 1930’s,” Danvers intoned. “The line was a defensive response based on the French experiences in World War I and was constructed during the years leading up to the Second World War .
“The whole idea behind the French plan was to create a fortification that would provide time for their Army to mobilize in the event of attack.”
Danvers paused for a moment. “Follow so far?”
I nodded.
“You see the French looked back at World War I and saw the success of static, defensive combat and figured the same kind of tactics would likely be employed if war ever broke out in Europe again. Military experts extolled the Maginot Line as a work of genius. It was – it just wasn’t the right tactic for the times. The line was an engineering feat of brilliance, but it came too late. The world, weaponry and tactics had move on.
“While the fortification system did prevent a direct attack, it was strategically ineffective. Ultimately, the Germans simply went around the line, outflanked the entire defensive installation, and swept through France regardless.”
“So you used the inspiration of the Maginot Line as a template for the Danvers Defense Line?”
The man nodded. “It was perhaps the most difficult, most painful decision I