I’m not a farmer, but my country needs a clearheaded man to end this terrible war. Even more, my country needs a man who can return America to its rightful place in the world as the premier nation.
Greater China stood in the way. Therefore, he had to destroy it. It was that simple. Harold noted Williamson’s patience, another fine quality, although it potentially made the Militiaman dangerous. Harold trusted the general… but he would have to keep an eye on Williamson.
First clearing his throat, Harold asked, “Have you spoken with General McGraw?”
“Yes, sir,” Williamson said, taking out a tablet of his own.
“Don’t read me your notes. Just give me the essentials of the meeting.”
“He’s backing out of the Australia operation,” Williamson said.
“I’m not surprised, even though it seemed suited to his tastes: flashy and potentially earthshattering.”
Williamson waited.
Harold liked that about the Militiaman. The general didn’t offer an opinion unless asked directly. Too many people liked to run off at the mouth, and without really saying anything useful. Harold found such people tedious, which meant the majority of the population.
“Did he give any reasons for backing out?” Harold asked.
“No sir.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting. I wonder what changed his mind.”
“There was something else, sir.”
“Oh?”
Williamson didn’t bother glancing at the tablet perched on his bony knees. “The general asked about Jake Higgins.”
“The tank colonel?” Harold asked.
“No sir, his son, the traitor.”
“Refresh my memory.”
Williamson told him the story, including how his Militia MPs had finally apprehended the traitor in the Stillwater hospital tent.”
“Is this younger Higgins still alive?” Harold asked.
“I checked. He is.”
“Hmm. Go on. What did McGraw say about the younger Higgins?”
“The general wants him released, sir.”
“Did he say why?”
“Yes sir. McGraw wants Colonel Higgins in Burma. The general feels… that the senior Higgins might prove troublesome if his son remains in a detention center.”
“Ah… Then McGraw will go to Burma? He said that?”
“He implied it, sir, although he didn’t commit himself.”
“In your opinion, how serious was he concerning Jake Higgins?”
“I found him intent on the matter,” Williamson said. “If you’ll recall, sir, many months ago, General McGraw stalled me about Jake Higgins.”
“Explain.”
General Williamson did so.
“I see, I see,” Harold said. He took out the ballpoint pen and clicked it several times. Swiveling around, looking at the Rose Garden, Harold wondered what he should do. It might be good for McGraw to taste defeat on this, to sow discord among his supporters. On the other hand, why alert his enemy… his potential enemy… in the bid for supreme power, over such a minor matter?
“In your opinion, how close are Colonel Higgins and McGraw?”
Williamson picked up his notepad, clicking the pager, scanning text. “I’m sure you’re aware of their close affiliation during the siege of Denver and Operation Washington.”
“Ah, yes,” Harold said, “I remember. They worked well together.”
“They used to, sir. Several of my operatives believe there has been a falling out between them.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why otherwise would McGraw ask for Jake Higgins? Why would he risk my displeasure? He knows I back Homeland Security to the hilt.”
Williamson clicked the notepad to another page. Behind his lenses, his eyes shifted back and forth, as he read. “There’s something else I think you should know, sir.”
“I’m listening.”
“Our psychologist is uncertain about the root reasons, sir. Yet I think the action is more important than the reason. Colonel Higgins has a taste for… unpatriotic speech.”
“Of what nature?” Harold asked, still staring at the Rose Garden. He saw a wasp land on a leaf, crawling to the edge of it.
“He speaks out against you and General McGraw, sir. He has compared you unfavorably to the Caesars of old.”
“Interesting,” Harold said. “It’s an apt analogy, I suppose, although foolish to say aloud. I’m intrigued why McGraw would help Higgins if he’s become a political gadfly to us.”
With his back to the Militia general, Harold smiled. Another man might give his subordinate assurances, saying he wasn’t really a Caesar, as Colonel Higgins put it. Williamson wouldn’t care one way another about apt analogies. The Militiaman worked to get the job done and left higher-level thoughts to his superior.
Harold clicked his pen. Finally, he asked, “Colonel Higgins and the general are at odds, is that right?”
“Several months ago, I sat in an office together with them. I sensed displeasure in Colonel Higgins, more against us but also against McGraw. I would agree: they are at odds.”
Harold clicked the pen again, rocking in his chair. “If I recall correctly, Colonel Higgins is something of a war hero.”
“Yes, sir, the newscasts have made him one.”
“That’s only partly correct, but never mind,” Harold said. The man’s valor and hard fighting had made Higgins the hero. Harold swiveled around, facing Williamson.
“If this Colonel Higgins were McGraw’s good friend, I would deny the request. But seeing that Colonel Higgins is a gadfly…”
Williamson’s mouth became more pinched.
“You do not approve of me releasing Jake Higgins?” Harold asked.
“My opinion doesn’t matter, sir.”
“That isn’t what I asked you.”
“Very well, sir. No. I do not approve. We must stamp out the traitorous scum so we can build a strong America for the future.”
“That is exactly what I plan to do. However, sometimes one should use traitorous scum, particularly if they are good soldiers.”
Williamson actually moved on his chair, a possible squirm.
“We mustn’t fool ourselves, General. That is the worst sin of all. Jake Higgins, Stan Higgins and General McGraw are all fighting men. They’re good at what they do.”
There was no response from Williamson.
“Let us send these fighters to Burma to help the Indians. In fact, I’ve just had a brainstorm.” Harold grinned, putting crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes. “We’re going to send every troublemaker we have left to Burma. Yes, write that down.”
Williamson set the notepad on his knees, with his fingers poised.
“We’re going to comb the US Army and Marines of subversive elements and transfer them into the Expeditionary Force. They can fight for the United States as they take enemy bullets and artillery shells that might otherwise kill loyal citizens.”
Williamson typed as the director spoke.
“Remember, General, a wise man wastes nothing. We have used many subversive elements in the penal battalions. They served as a warning to others, even as they made useful shock troops. We’ll have to hide our intention this time, as we rid our country of the malcontents.”
Williamson looked up as he cleared his throat.
“You have a comment to make?” Harold asked.
“I don’t usually like to do so, sir.”
“I’m quite aware of that, General.”
“But in my opinion, sir…”
“Yes?” Harold asked.
“Yours is a brilliant idea.”
Harold nodded. He knew it was a great idea. It’s why he ran America and why, at the end of the day, he would still be in power to remake the United States of America the right way when the war ended.