He had been lucky to get into West Point, and soon hated the place. He decided to stick with it and do his required service afterward, then bail. Before he could get out, along came Kosovo. The experience left him with a profound respect for the men and women who served in the army. In Afghanistan, then Iraq, and two more combat tours in Afghanistan, their valor had left him humbled and awed. Leading troops had been the great experience of his life. The military bureaucracy — full of paper-pushers and desk soldiers angling for promotion — had defeated him when the Holy Warriors could not. He knew he had to get out when he hit twenty years, and he did.
Now he was on the cusp of a horrible dilemma, which he had helped bring on. It looked as if killing some American soldiers might well be on the menu. The hard fact was that if Texas was going to win its freedom, mortal combat was inevitable. If not here, then other places. And the sooner it was done, the sooner the bloodletting would be over.
Combat had taught JR to find strength in God when he doubted if he had enough, and so he prayed a little as the jet lifted off. He had long ago come to grips with his own mortality. He had once written a quotation from Stonewall Jackson in the front of his Bible: “God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.”
Be always ready. Go meet your maker with a clear conscience.
Another lesson he had learned in combat was to sleep whenever possible. He had done all he could, and could make no plans until he knew the situation he faced, so he reclined his seat as far as it would go, leaned his head back, and went to sleep.
THIRTEEN
Travis Clay, Willis Coffee, Willie Varner, and I sat in the work area behind the lock shop display room drinking beer and watching television. The front door was locked.
Barry Soetoro was on the tube breathing fire and damnation. Beside him stood General Martin L. Wynette, USA, looking every inch a soldier, with enough ribbons on his chest to decorate the Light Brigade. I had heard that Wynette had actually never heard a shot fired in anger, except for some outgoing artillery barrages fired several miles away, yet he looked fierce and determined, ready to chew nails. I thought it was his square jaw and steely eyes that created that impression, which had taken him far.
Apparently Willie the Wire was also impressed by the general, because he remarked, “He oughta be in movies. Central Casting must have sent him over to the White House.”
Soetoro was reading from a teleprompter, as usual. I wondered who wrote his stuff: “… are going to crush the rebellion in Texas. The traitors who survive will be tried for treason. I appeal again to the sane people in Texas to put a stop to the foolishness of the legislature and the governor. They are the ones who will suffer, who will pay for the stupidity of their state officials. The price will be high…”
He went on, telling about the Texas press release reporting the execution of Major Nasruli, the convicted Fort Hood jihadist. To hear Soetoro tell it, the execution was a personal insult to him. “True, Major Nasruli was awaiting execution, but the timing and manner of that execution, if I allowed it to go forward at all, was at my discretion. Many and diverse interests were at stake, including our relationship with many Muslim nations, and my judgment on this matter was rendered a nullity by a Texas National Guard officer who violated federal law…”
He talked some more about the heavy burdens of the presidency, then got back to the sins of Texas. “I have ordered General Wynette to prepare a military response to Texas’ blatantly illegal and violent act of secession. We will use the entire might of the federal government to stamp it out, to crush it. We owe the loyal citizens of the nation nothing less. One hundred fifty years ago Texas and other states tore this Union apart in a futile attempt to defend indefensible slavery. Now Texas is tearing this Union apart in order to defend an indefensible, reactionary vision of America that the rest of the country rejects. I can assure you that as president of the United States and commander in chief of the armed forces, I will do my duty as Abraham Lincoln did his, I will not let this stand. I will preserve the Union.”
Wynette nodded several times during this rant, almost as if he were whispering amens.
Soetoro took no questions from the gathered reporters, but stepped aside to give Wynette the podium. “You may have heard rumors,” Wynette said, “that the commanding generals of a few of the United States military installations in Texas surrendered today. Actually, the facilities were delivered to the enemy by treachery. We are investigating. I promise you that the Benedict Arnolds responsible will be court-martialed for treason. If they are found guilty and given the sentence that the law prescribes for that crime, they will be executed. You may have also heard that some of our soldiers and airmen have joined the enemy’s ranks to fight against United States forces. I cannot comment on the truth of that rumor, but I will state that any American soldier, sailor, airman, or Marine who does indeed join the enemy’s ranks will be charged with desertion. I remind any member of the American military listening to this broadcast to remember where their loyalty lies.
“We will soon begin military operations against the rebels in Texas. We cannot be responsible for the loss of innocent lives; that responsibility rests with those who have rebelled against the lawful government of the United States and taken up arms against it.”
Wynette ducked questions too. He followed Soetoro and Vice President Rhodes back into the bowels of the White House.
“Lots of treachery down in Texas,” I remarked.
The network went back to showing footage of the rioting in Baltimore.
“Those scenes were shot at the riot last year,” Travis said. “I’ve seen those shots a dozen times. The TV people get around the censor by showing old footage.”
I went over and snapped off the television. I would have used the remote but Willie had laid it somewhere, lost it I suppose.
“They’re going to start killing people,” Willis Coffee said bitterly. “He isn’t even going to negotiate.”
“I doubt if Texas would negotiate with him,” I remarked. “If you were them, would you negotiate with that megalomaniac?”
“No,” Willis admitted.
“I think those folks down in Texas are going to need a lot more killing than Barry Soetoro thinks they will,” Travis said softly. “It’s that Alamo thing. They get it with their mother’s milk. Texas, Texas, Texas, like it’s the promised land that God gave them.”
“Maybe he did,” Willie the Wire muttered. “For sho’, he didn’t give us anythin’ to brag about here in Washington. I wouldn’t risk a fingernail for the whole damn district.”
We were batting things around when someone knocked on the front door of the lock shop. Willie went to see who it was, and came back with Sarah Houston. She looked particularly delicious that evening in her going-to-work outfit, a nice, knee-length dress with a belt that emphasized her figure. She was shod in a set of black pumps and had her purse over her shoulder.
I introduced her to Willis and Travis. She looked us over and said, “All the usual suspects.”
“Want a beer?” Willie asked, ol’ Mr. Hospitality.
“No,” she said, and looked around for something to sit on. Willie took a box of junk off a chair and arranged it for her. She seated herself, arranged her legs in the required position for female television journalists, and tugged her dress down a millimeter. She placed her purse on the floor beside her. Royalty come to call on the peasants.