General Jeffrey Morgan commanded NORTHCOM, the Northern Army Command. All Army troops in North America were under his jurisdiction. They would be deployed as he saw fit.
"What about after, when the initial rioting has died down?"
"The key to winning the junior officers over is to convince them that they're dealing with an ongoing violent revolution, an attempt to overthrow the government."
"There could be some that see through what is happening."
"If any of them make trouble they'll be relieved of command," Westlake said. "They've all sworn an oath to protect the Constitution and the President, and they'll be acting under Presidential orders. Refusal to follow orders is a court-martial offense."
Westlake emptied his glass and signaled for another round. "I don't think it's going to be much of a problem," he said. "In fact, the civilians will probably solve it for us."
"What do you mean?"
"The diehards aren't going to turn in their guns no matter what we say," Westlake said. "Enough of them will think they can take on the Army with their hunting rifles to give us plenty of incidents we can use to prove someone is inciting revolution."
The drinks came. Westlake picked up his glass.
"The joint exercise with Homeland Security is set. We'll begin the operation in a week."
CHAPTER 37
The team gathered on the shaded veranda of the island house. Selena had put together plates of fruit, cheese and crackers. There was a large pitcher of iced tea. A tropical breeze made it feel as if they had escaped to a vacation paradise, but no one was under the illusion this was a vacation.
"Whoever is behind this has some serious clout," Elizabeth said. "Someone convinced Edmonds we were a threat."
"Edmonds must be in on it," Nick said. "Part of the plot."
"It looks that way. He may be a dupe. It doesn't really matter at this point. The question is, what do we do now?"
"Our tactical situation isn't good," Nick said. "Homeland Security has probably put our names and pictures on every computer that matters. We're isolated."
"Sooner or later, whoever is calling the shots is going to find out where we are," Harker said.
"How are we fixed for weapons?" Lamont asked. "I've got my Sig and two magazines."
Stephanie looked embarrassed. "I know we're supposed to carry them all the time," she said, "but mine is back on my desk in Virginia."
"Don't feel bad, Steph," Harker said. "So is mine."
"Selena, Ronnie and I have our pistols," Nick said.
"I know Emile has a 12 gauge shotgun and a .22 rifle," Selena said. "It's not a lot of firepower, but it's something."
"Oh that's great," Lamont said. "We can do a lot of damage with those."
"Just trying to help," Selena said. She looked annoyed.
"Let's focus," Harker said.
"I grew up on a farm in Kansas," Stephanie said. "I'm good with a .22, we had to keep the gophers down."
"Okay," Nick said. "You take the .22. Director, you get the shotgun."
"Emile will know what kind of supplies are on the island," Selena said. "There may be something we can use. I'll talk with him after we're done here."
"Stephanie, can you link into our computers in Virginia?" Elizabeth asked.
"We have the satellite uplink and I have my laptop. Unless they shut everything down, I can access them. The sat link is encrypted, they won't be able to trace it."
"I want you to look for whoever is behind this. I don't know what the timetable is, but it feels like it's set to happen soon."
"I might be able to trace the signal that went to Alaska back to its original source," Stephanie said, "the one that was supposed to trigger the attack on Riyadh. If I can do that, we'll know where their home base is located."
Nick said, "Director, even if we do find out where they are, we still have to get off this island and back into the country without getting arrested."
"The pilot will come pick us up," Selena said.
"That's fine if he can do it," Nick said. "What if he can't? We need an alternate plan."
"We could get to one of the bigger islands like Barbados and rent a plane," Selena said.
"That might not be a good idea. We need to assume Interpol is looking for us along with everyone else."
"I saw a boat docked in the bay when we were flying in," Lamont said. "It looked big enough to get us to the mainland. There are plenty of places along the coast where we could put in without being noticed."
"If we can get past the Coast Guard," Ronnie said.
"We'll worry about that if we need to," Elizabeth said. "We're not going anywhere until we find out more about what's happening."
"We should clue Emile in," Lamont said. "If things get dicey, he could get caught in the crossfire."
"I can do that," Selena said. "Don't underestimate Emile. He's one of the most resourceful men I've ever met."
"All right," Harker said. "Selena, you brief Emile. Find out if there's anything we can use for weapons."
"You mean things that go boom?" Lamont asked.
Elizabeth smiled. "That, and anything else that might help. Nick and Ronnie, once we have an inventory see what you can put together. Lamont, you go take a look at that boat and see if it will serve."
Lamont coughed. "Roger that," he said.
"Any questions?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yeah," Ronnie said. "What's for dinner?"
CHAPTER 38
Nick and Selena lay in a tangle of sheets looking out through the tall windows of Selena's bedroom, open to the warm, tropical night. The room was in the front of the house. Nick could see the dark shape of the extinct volcano rising at the other end of the island. Sheer white curtains around the windows fluttered in a light breeze. The moon was up, shedding a pale silver glow over the dark jungle interior of the island. Two tall palm trees formed silhouettes against the starlit sky outside the window. The room was warm after the heat of the day. It smelled of sex and sweat and Selena's perfume.
Selena nestled against him. She ran her fingers over the ridges of scar tissue on his body, where shrapnel from the grenade had torn into his side.
"It looks like a romantic postcard," Nick said.
"What does?"
He gestured at the open window. "That. The moon, the palm trees. All that's missing is violins playing somewhere in the background."
She laughed. "Postcards don't play music."
"Some do. You know, Happy Birthday, John Philip Sousa, things like that."
"I don't think Sousa is quite the right mood," she said.
She moved her hand across his chest, feeling the solid muscle underneath, the puckered scar on his shoulder. "I wish this could last forever," she said.
He almost said nothing ever does but caught himself in time.
He buried his face in her hair. "Mmm," he said. "You smell good."
"Passion flower shampoo," she said. "It's supposed to drive men wild."
"I am man, I am wild," he said. "You have driven me there. Now I must ravish you."
She laughed. "You sound like a bad line in a pirate movie."
"Isn't that what wild men do?"
"What?"
"Ravish. You know." He leered at her and pretended to stroke a mustache.
"I think you must read romance novels when nobody's looking," she said. "Nobody says ravish anymore."
"When I was a kid, I heard an actor say ravish in a movie. I thought he said radish. I couldn't figure out what he meant."
She began laughing. He grinned at her, pleased.
After she'd stopped laughing she was quiet, suddenly serious.
"Don't you get tired of this?" she said. "Doing what we do?"
"I don't know if tired is the right word. Look at what we deal with. People who don't care about anything except power and control, who'll do anything to get what they want. I don't get tired of trying to stop people like that."