If only, Roos thought, Evan had not been so egotistical in his revenge, we could have just done this from the start.
Still, Roos knew the cover story for the explosion would require planting evidence, bribing someone to come forward as a witness, yadda, yadda, yadda. Yes, it would have been better if the team put a bullet in Knox's forehead and disappeared the body. As it was, Roos would have to go in after the flames died down, pull out the remains of his men and the Witiko, and-most important of all-identify Knox's cadaver, because Ray Roos would not sleep until he knew for sure Gordon Knox no longer lived.
14. Beach Front
Jon sat at the head of the table in the mansion basement feeling relieved that this would be the last meeting in a week of meetings.
Joining him at the table were Phillip Rhodes-newly appointed commander of Stonewall's 2 ^ nd Mechanized Division of Virginia-General Cassy Simms of the 1 ^ st Mechanized Division, General Casey Fink leader of the 3 ^ rd Corp currently stationed in Texas, General Shepherd who commanded the 1 ^ st Corp from HQs in both Colorado and California, General William Hoth of the Philippan which hovered in New England, and Captain Woody "Bear" Ross, commanding officer aboard the Excalibur, currently involved in a training mission in Georgia to be followed by a trip to the Pittsburgh shipyard in July.
A speaker phone in the center of the table brought General Prescott, commander of 2 ^ nd Corp, to the conversation from his base in Long Beach as well as Captain Kristy Kaufman of the Chrysaor who was vacationing in the Shenandoah Valley while her ship underwent maintenance.
"Sir?"
Jon realized he had drifted off and missed Rhodes' question. Of course, Rhodes had a lot of questions. He was a good man; a good soldier. As such, he took to his promotion with an abundance of enthusiasm.
"I'm sorry, what was that Phil?"
"I was just confirming that we have no new deployment orders. Nowhere, well, to go."
Shep jumped in, "Well, now I reckon that isn't the case considering that Mexico was always figured to be the next stop on our little worldwide parade."
Heads nodded in agreement. According to reconnaissance, only wild animals-alien and otherwise-lived on the tundra to the north beyond the major Canadian cities clustered around the old border.
In contrast, Mexico-as they had painfully learned-hosted Centurian formations. The destruction of the base in Monterrey may have blunted the enemy's advance toward the Rio Grande, but intelligence suggested additional Redcoat armies mustered further to the south.
Therefore, Jon's answer took them by surprise. "Well, we just have to wait and see. Right now I think we need to be focused on the domestic side of things."
Cassy Simms glanced around at the others and asked, "Sir, what exactly does that mean?"
"It means that the military is under civilian control, just like in the old world. Dante is the Secretary of Defense. He was Trevor's best friend so I think we can trust him. We all have doubts about our President but he was elected by the Senate twice and those Senators were elected by the people."
A little voice from the back of Jon's mind said, Keep telling yourself that. Must be nice to have someone to take orders from again.
Brewer ran a hand over his eyes. That little voice inside his head grew louder every day.
General Hoth raised his hand like a school boy in class.
Brewer nodded and Hoth asked, "I need to understand exactly what that means. Are you telling us that we ultimately report to Dante Jones?"
Sometimes dealing with Hoth drove Jon crazy. The man had a streak of lawyer in him. He not only lived by the book; he ate, slept, and shit by the book, too. He thrived on order and the chain of command, the types of things that were not so clear cut in the new world, even more so in the midst of the current power transfer.
Jon, however, told him what he felt to be true: "Yes, in the sense that Dante Jones speaks on behalf of the President. We all report to the President, now."
Casey Fink blurted, "That does not make me feel so good."
"I'm sorry about your feelings, Casey, but things have changed. We have to give this time, got it?"
"Easy, Jon, we're all giving it time," Shep said. "But it seems to me there are a lot of people sitting at this table who don't have fond feelings toward our new President. That's going to take some time getting used to."
Jon heard, you gave in too quick; you handed it all over without thinking it through.
"These are tough times," Jon said with a tremble of defensiveness in his voice as he paraphrased Evan Godfrey's words. "What the people out there need now are institutions and things, not just personalities and Generals. You can see it already; a bunch of labor problems that were driving us nuts just two weeks ago have gone away. We have to give this time."
"Does that mean we're not going to invade Mexico?" asked Kristy Kaufman over the speaker phone.
Jon raised his voice, "We're going to wait and let the new government settle in. We're going to concentrate on defense for a bit. Once all is said and done, I expect the war to continue. But we can't rush things. I'm asking for patience, people. Just give this a chance."
– The short gray-haired I.S. officer named Tucker repeated to Ashley, "Man, we've talked about this for two days now. It's time to go. I have orders to follow." Ashley stood in Trevor's old office on the second floor shaking in one part anger and one part fear. "And I told you two days ago that I don't want to leave here. This is my home." JB ran out from the master bedroom to his mother.
Tucker spoke to the boy, "Hey kid, why don't you tell your mom how much you're looking forward to going to the beach? Didn't you spend summers with your dad down there?"
Jorge Benjamin Stone stuck out his lower lip, narrowed his eyes, and told the man now in charge of their security, "You mean my father? Yes. Every summer. I expect we'll go again soon. How is the arm, Tucker?"
Tucker instinctively looked at his forearm. "Hey, it's fine I-what do you mean?"
"Listen," Ashley said to the brute who inherited Ray Roos' job. "I do not see why President Godfrey cares where we spend the summer."
Jon Brewer and General Jerry Shepherd walked into the room.
As had been the case ever since Evan had ascended to the Presidency nine days ago, Brewer refused to look Ashley in the eye. She, however, always searched for his. She knew that Jon Brewer held a lot more power than he realized. She knew that if any hope remained for Trevor's vision, it remained with Jon, especially now that Gordon Knox had died in a house fire. "What's the problem?" Brewer asked as JB ran to Jon's leg and gave him a hug. "Sir, I have orders to transport Mrs. Stone and her child to their summer vacation home." Shepherd cocked an eye and asked, "Now why is that?" Tucker answered, "Death threats, General. Apparently there are some people out there who want to hurt Trevor's family."
The last part of Tucker's answer played sourly on JB's ears. He glared at the I.S. man, pulled away from Brewer, and retreated to his mother's shadow.
"Death threats?" Shep scratched his head. "Well, now, that surprises the heck out of me."
Jon gently waved his hand as if to calm the situation and turned his attention to Ashley, still not quite looking her straight in the eye.
"Is there really a problem with going? I mean, maybe it'd be for the best. There isn't going to be much security around here now that everything important is moving down to D.C."
JB asserted, "But you'll still be here, won't you Uncle Jon?"
After a pause he answered, "Well, I'll be working out of my house for a while and with Omar in his work shop. Then, I guess, I'll be headed down to D.C., too, to work in the Pentagon."
"Jon, this isn't about security," Ashley said. "This is about Evan Godfrey hiding away any reminders of the way things used to be. He wants people to forget about this estate. He wants people to forget about me and you too, Jon."