“A bit of a surprise, ma’am.”
“How so? Please speak freely.”
Captain Dawson looked to Keenan who nodded.
“General Harmon’s gonna be excited to see you, that’s for sure. He likes all the… pomp and circumstance—”
“He’s a good guy though, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Keenan, “He’s trying real hard to rebuild, you know? He’s a smart man and Commander Bastin’s loyal to him to a fault.”
“Commander Bastin?”
“My superior officer. Commander Grant A. Bastin. An excellent soldier as well. Spent time in the sandbox before the Sickness. Was awarded too many medals to count. I’d follow him anywhere.”
“I see. Good to know.”
“Commander was a major, Air Force before the Cuckoo Flu. We’re in charge of the mountain pass on this side.”
“Commander Bastin saw our bird today?”
“No, not directly, one of his young sons did. They were playing games on the gates.”
“Ah, I see. How strong and secure is that gate? You say it’s at the top of the mountain? Route 40? How many men?”
Major O’Malley strolled toward them, Nicole at his elbow, CJ in his arms. Amanda trailed behind with Scott and GT, following. The group was becoming too large as everyone sought to hear what was going on.
“Let’s move to the main office,” said Hannah Starkes.
With the meal finished, she motioned all to follow her into the large hangar office. Once inside, she took position near a desk that held her map. All gathered, waiting.
CHAPTER 10.19-Some Strange News
“Andy, Kevin… what’d ya think?” asked Mark Harmon. The general was sitting at the head of a rectangular dining table large enough to hold thirty people. Jake and Pete, his personal security team, sat at either side of him. Places were set for only fifteen, creating an excess of space for each guest. Mark’s question was a thin attempt to be casual about the gifts he had presented to the men of the MacMillen clan—his smile belied his cavalier attitude.
“What’d I think? Awesome, Mark! You’ve blown us all away with your generosity.”
The general’s smile widened and he stood to shake the hands of the thankful men, one by one. He basked warmly in their thanks and each man took his turn in offering his appreciation. “Gentlemen, please find a seat—Cecilia has prepared a small meal for us after which we’ll retire to the den for cigars and cognac.” There were several sounds of whispered excitement at this news—what the general offered was the epitome of opulence.
Andy approached the general. “Mark, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“It’s my pleasure, Andy. You’re hunting pheasant with me tomorrow, right?”
“Sure—that’s the plan,” answered Andy. Kevin, Ryan, and Toby had found seats close to Andy and Mark and the rest settled in their chairs leaving four unnecessary place settings quickly cleared away by the wait staff.
When the men were seated, a small team of servers fanned out around the table and distributed platters loaded with Stromboli and breaded mushrooms.
“That smells wonderful!” said Ryan. He reached for a piece before the platter had touched the table.
“I love Stromboli,” said JR.
“Are those breaded mushrooms?” asked Toby.
“Yes, they are,” answered Harmon. “Eat up, gentlemen.”
The radio on Jake’s belt squelched and he stared at it, surprised by the interruption. He removed it from his belt with practiced ease as he stood smoothly and walked a few steps from the table, whispering a response into the device. Harmon’s eyes followed Jake’s action in mild annoyance, but his attention returned to his guests and he thought no more about the interruption.
“How’d you like the shotgun selections, Andy? Kevin? They told me I nailed it—did I?”
“Oh, all day long, you nailed it, Mark!” answered Andy.
“Mark… ah… Mark, I’m not sure how you knew, but… well, it was perfect,” said Kevin.
“That’s all I hoped for, guys—that you selected a shotgun you wanted,” said Mark. He glanced toward his security detail. Jake was intensely speaking into Pete’s ear. Pete heard what he had to say and left without a word. Throughout that exchange, Jake never lost eye contact with Mark.
“General, we have a report from Commander Bastin.”
“Take it easy, Jake,” said the general, trying to calm the growing concern in Jake’s voice. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You know that helicopter that was spotted in Masontown earlier today?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“Commander Bastin’s men went to locate it.”
“Yeah, Jake, I know.”
“They found ’em.”
“Was it a two-seater?”
“Nope.” The men around the table silently stared at Mark and Jake, transfixed by their conversation.
Mark brought them up to speed. “The toll gate spotted a helicopter earlier today. I made the assumption that it was a two-seater someone got up and running, but apparently that’s not the case. It wasn’t a small bird.”
Jake listened intently to his radio and, based on what he heard, handed the device to Mark. Mark increased the volume so that everyone was able to hear. He spoke into the radio. “This is Harmon. Over.”
“Commander Bastin here, sir. We have a priority one situation with radio relays in place. It’s a rush basis, sir. Over.”
“What’s your news, commander? Over.”
“Sir, Major McLoy and his scouting team’s located the ’copter. They’ve reported in just now. Stand by. Over.”
The men around the table began to talk with one another, but Andy hushed them quickly enough to hear Commander Bastin’s voice on the radio. “Major McLoy’s confirmed the helicopter is that of the President of the United States, sir. A Colonel Hannah Starkes claims to be the president. A very well trained protective detail and a couple civilian women accompany her. Over.”
Mark Harmon was staring at the radio as if he didn’t believe its existence. “Commander, I want you to repeat what you said. Be very clear. Over.”
“Yes, sir. The existence of the helicopter is confirmed. Call sign designation is Marine One. They were in Masontown for the purposes of refueling. Colonel Hannah Starkes claims to be President of the United States. She’s in Masontown with a highly trained group of men—her protective detail—and two civilian women and one very small child accompany her. The president has just finished briefing Major McLoy on their mission plan. Over.”
“Commander, what makes you think that her credentials are bona fide? Over.”
“Sir, Major McLoy has confirmed her designation as Commander-in-Chief. He believes her to be the real deal. Over.”
“Wow,” said Mark, absorbing the news and not bothering to speak into the radio. There was excitement in his eyes and his mind was moving a mile a minute. He was evaluating possibilities.
“Sir? Do you have any orders or instructions? Over,” asked Commander Bastin
After an additional pause, Mark spoke into the radio. “What did she say was her mission, commander? Over.”
“They’re searching for a specific individual, sir. She suggested that we might be of assistance. Over.”
“How can we help? Do you know who they’re looking for? Over.”
“I understand that you’re holding a pre-hunt dinner with members of the MacMillen clan—is that right, sir? Over.”
“Yes, commander, that’s right. But it’s not as important as offering our assistance. This dinner can be postponed. Over.”
“Yes, sir, of course. Sir? Is Andy or Ryan MacMillen with you now? Over.”