“Phoenix doesn’t play games, does he?”
“Ma’am, I’m just saying that if you’re thinking of asking Connor MacMillen to meet you in Cleveland, we might end up with more than we bargained for.”
“Yes, major, I understand he might be somewhat of a force to reckon with. Go on.”
“Sure. We’re told that Phoenix put into place something called a five-year plan. He immediately forced all able-bodied individuals to work, creating arable land for crops, planting both within the city limits and in the outlying suburbs. Asphalt and concrete were removed and transported from city central to create a defensive mound three miles outside the city limits. Overall, the project was a minimal success the first year, but he kept after his people relentlessly and since the second year the farms produce fresh vegetables and fruit in excess of population needs.”
“I’d love to have a fresh salad. That’s something I definitely miss from the old days.”
“I agree, ma’am, a salad would be nice.”
“I’m sorry, major, go on.”
“Sure. It seems Phoenix has served as Mayor of Cleveland for a little over four years. Not only has he held the city together, but he continues to build a population that does his bidding. He set up a voting system for key community positions every year between Christmas and New Year. The voting system includes the mayor position. Since Cleveland is on Lake Erie, he’s put together a working navy, capable of defending Cleveland from a lake attack while also supplementing the food supply with a significant amount of fish. He had seventeen operating ships and all are well armed.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Yes, ma’am. So we’re told. He was once a powerful superintendent for the elevator industry. He’s well read, mostly focusing on historical writings. He’s very charismatic, a natural salesman. Runs a tight ship, ma’am.”
“Yeah, major, it sounds like it. What are you afraid of?”
“Phoenix is a relative unknown, ma’am, and a powerful force. He clearly wants power. Wants to expand his realm. He’s organized and has a firm power base. He’s very well suited to respond militarily, so I’m not sure we want to cruise into his neighborhood with our limited resources.”
“I wouldn’t call our Superhawk and men a limited resource, major.”
“No, of course not, ma’am, but we don’t know what he has to go up against it.”
“Yeah, good point. What are your recommendations?”
“I suggest we direct any rendezvous with Colonel MacMillen more to the south—maybe Akron, for example. No reports of organized groups in that area.”
“Sound advice, major. But I’m a little surprised at your reticence. Have you forgotten that you’re talking to the President of the United States?”
“Never, ma’am, but to that Cleveland bunch you might just be some fine puss—” Major O’Malley stopped abruptly, clamping his lips shut tight. Blushing red, he averted his eyes, swallowing hard. He turned to Captain Daubney, seeking assistance, but the captain was staring at him, mouth agape.
“Major!” snapped Colonel Starkes.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You have my permission to speak freely.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What were you saying, major?”
“Uh…”
“Major!”
“Yes, ma’am. Um… well, ma’am, it’s just that this Cleveland bunch may see you as… um… a desirable female and not necessarily the President of the United States.”
The colonel smiled at his tact, but was pleased by his use of the word “desirable”. “You raise some valid concerns, major.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Captain Daubney, what’s your opinion?”
“We go back to Camp David, ma’am. We found CJ and Nicole—our mission’s accomplished. Let’s take them to where they’ll be safe. We can go after Colonel MacMillen after we replenish our supplies and secure more men. Maybe that second ’copter.”
She wiped CJ’s face with a red mechanic’s cloth and adjusted the blanket around him to protect him from the oncoming evening chill. His green eyes shone brightly with interest, following her movements. She returned her gaze to the two men beside the hammock.
“Give me some time to think about what you’ve said. Gentlemen, I thank you for your input. Captain Daubney, you’re dismissed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The captain walked off to check on the perimeter guard.
“Major?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let Nicole know that if she’d like more of a break, CJ can sleep with me in my quarters for a while. I still have almost a full bottle. Tell her she might use this opportunity to take that bath that she’s wanted. Make sure that she has all the heated water she needs and she’s welcome to a bar of the scented soap none of you men would ever use.”
“Yes, ma’am.
“Let her know that she can have CJ whenever she wants, but that he’s welcome to stay with me the entire evening.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, ma’am.”
“Dismissed.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
CHAPTER 3.2-The Presidential Seal
“Major, this is what I want included on the leaflets.” Colonel Starkes handed the major a sheet of paper. “I want his name centered on the paper in large bold letters. The information should be included on both sides of the paper.”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered the major, studying the paper. Nicole had made this one, her artistic skills obvious with the neatness and symmetry of the letters.
“I want you to put about ten guys on this for as long as it takes to make 10,000 of these.” This was about half of the paper that they had taken from the FedEx and, in the colonel’s estimation, would give them a very good opportunity of succeeding at their task.
The leaflet read:
By order of the President of the United States, Colonel Connor MacMillen (serial #1985638) is requested at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio no later than September 8th. Your country requires your help. Colonel Hannah Starkes, President of the United States of America.
“I’ll begin right away, ma’am.”
“Nicole is already through with about a hundred sheets. Have your men join her and if they have any questions, she can answer them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It would be a lot of work, probably in excess of 300 man-hours. It would take ten to twelve people three eight-hour shifts to complete this task. The major began to plan how to tackle the logistics of the deployment of his men.
Two days later, 10,000 were ready for distribution. The only question left was where to drop them so that Connor might find one.
CHAPTER 3.3-Answers are Needed
“Mac?”
“Yeah, Snuff?”
“Mind tellin’ me what’s so important in the mountains south of Pittsburgh that you’re determined to travel all the way back from Australia and across the entire damn continent to find it?”
Connor closed the book he was reading in the living room and stared at Amanda. Swallowing twice before responding, his thoughtfulness turned serious.
“Why now, Amanda? Why you want to know after all our time together?”
“Mind tellin’ me?”
Connor rose from his chair near the farmhouse window, standing before her.
“No, I don’t mind, not now, not after our time together.”
“So, what is it?”
“Answer me first,” said Connor, “Why now, and then I’ll fill you in.”
Amanda touched the kitchen countertop with her fingertips, nervous. Asking the question had taken intense preparation. Almost more than she had. Her hair was neatly combed and held by a shiny blue barrette she’d found in the small bedroom; she had tastefully applied new make-up to her eyes and cheeks. She wanted to look especially pretty today when asking what she had always considered ‘The Big Question.’ But, now her cheeks blushed under Connor’s intense stare. Without meeting his gaze, she felt him examining her face for clues.