“You’re the commander of our armed forces, General Reese,” the man at the window said. “And you’re my most trusted confidant. I need your assessment of the situation.”
General Reese shifted in his chair. He was seated in front of the President’s desk, a manila file in his lap. “I don’t see where my input can help any, President Toland.”
President Toland, his hands clasped behind his back, glanced over his right shoulder. The window was situated to the rear of his oaken desk, and his standing position afforded him a clear view of General Reese’s worried countenance. “Humor me, Barney,” he said, grinning.
General Reese tapped on the manila file. “Okay. I think you’re doing the right thing.”
President Toland chuckled. “I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.
Go over it again.”
“We’ve been over it a dozen times already,” General Reese noted.
“Then once more won’t hurt, will it?” President Toland responded. He stared out the window at the panoramic view of Denver and the snow-capped peaks of the Rocky Mountains dimly visible on the western horizon despite the absence of the moon.
“No, sir,” General Reese said.
“Then proceed,” President Toland directed.
“We know we have a spy in our midst,” General Reese began. “We know because the Family alerted us after they interrogated a captured Russian.
What we don’t know is the identity of the spy, but we suspect it is someone in a prominent position in our government. It could be one of your advisors.”
President Toland sighed wearily. “One of my closest friends could be a traitor.”
“We don’t know that, sir,” General Reese remarked.
“What?”
“We don’t know if this spy is a traitor,” General Reese elaborated. “By that, I mean we don’t know if it’s someone born in the Civilized Zone or someone the Soviets planted here.”
“There’s small consolation for me if it’s a plant,” President Toland said.
“It’s still someone I’ve placed my trust in, someone I’ve appointed to a high post. The blame is mine.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” General Reese advised. “Who could have anticipated the Russians using a spy?”
“We should have anticipated such an eventuality,” President Toland replied. “We know the Soviets occupied a section of the eastern United States during World War Three, a corridor running from the Mississippi to the Atlantic Ocean, sort of a belt separating the Deep South from New York and the New England states. And we know the Russians want to dominate the entire country, or what’s left of it. They’ll stop at nothing to achieve their goals. So we should have expected dirty tricks on their part.”
He paused, looking at the far-off mountains. “And the Soviets aren’t the only enemies we have. There are the Technics in Chicago, and Androxia in south Texas. Both of these city-states are actively attempting to extend their domination, to conquer the continent, if not the world, according to the information relayed by the Family. We owe Blade and Plato a debt of gratitude.”
“Don’t forget we have some friends out there too,” General Reese stated.
“There are the Flathead Indians in Montana, as well as the Cavalry, the horsemen of the plains, in the Dakota territory. We have the Moles in their underground city in northern Minnesota, and we have as allies the Clan, the refugees from the Twin Cities now living in Halma, about sixty or seventy miles west of the Moles. And last, but most importantly, we have the Family. We’re not alone, sir.”
“I know,” President Toland said. “And it was wise of us to form the Freedom Federation, to sign treaties pledging to work together to restore some semblance of sanity to this land and to oppose our mutual adversaries.” He stared at Reese. “But now I may have jeopardized the Freedom Federation by endangering its leadership.”
“It’s a calculated risk,” General Reese admitted. “But it’s the only way to flush out the spy.”
“I hope so,” President Toland declared.
“You should look at the bright side,” General Reese suggested.
“How so?”
“You should be thankful we’re still around to resist the Soviets, the Technics, and the Androxians. We’re all that’s left of the United States of America. Think of it. Once there were fifty states, and the U.S. was one of the largest countries in the world. Now all we have are Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, New Mexico, Oklahoma, parts of Arizona, and the northern half of Texas. Denver is our capital. And although America has been renamed, although we call ourselves the Civilized Zone, we’re as dedicated to maintaining liberty and safeguarding our freedom as the U.S. ever was.”
President Toland leaned his forehead on the pane of glass. “And I believe my decision to invite the Free State of California to join the Freedom Federation was a logical result of that dedication. The more members the Freedom Federation has, the stronger we’ll be, and the stronger we are, the less likelihood there is of our being defeated by the Russians or anyone else.”
“So why are you agonizing over your decision?” General Reese asked.
President Toland returned to his desk and sank into his comfortable leather-covered chair. “Because to agree to holding the summit meeting in California is one thing,” he responded with an air of self-reproach, “but to set up the leaders of the Freedom Federation as unsuspecting targets on the mere hope we can flush out the Russian spy is quite another. If one of the leaders is killed, I must assume full responsibility.”
“Why don’t you tell the other leaders about the spy?” General Reese proposed.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” General Reese queried.
“What if the Russians have spies planted with the other members of the Freedom Federation? The more people we inform, the greater the risk of a leak,” President Toland stated.
“Are you going to let at least Plato know?” General Reese questioned.
“I don’t know,” President Toland replied.
“You know you can trust Plato,” General Reese asserted. “And if you don’t tell him, at least inform Blade. You know damn well Blade isn’t a spy. None of the Warriors are, for that matter.”
President Toland grinned. “Ironic, isn’t it? The ones I can trust the most are the Family’s Warriors, not my own military personnel. Except for yourself, of course.”
“Thanks.” General Reese smiled. “Say. That reminds me. Where is this summit meeting in California going to be held?”
“A city called Anaheim, about twenty-seven miles from L.A.”
Chapter One
The gleaming VTOL swooped down toward the airport from the northeast, its twin engines roaring. Dozens of aircraft of varying sizes were parked near their respective targets or taxiing toward one of the runways. Most of the planes preparing to take off were small, single-engine craft. The VTOL’s speed decreased as it descended, and the aircraft angled in the direction of a terminal exclusively reserved for military use. A large crowd had gathered outside the terminal entrance to welcome the occupants of the VTOL. The craft reached a point 35 yards from the crowd and hovered.
Moments later, accompanied by a muted whine, the VTOL landed. Two individuals detached themselves from the welcoming committee and walked toward the aircraft.
A door on the side of the VTOL opened as a ground crew pushed a portable flight of metal stairs up to the doorway. A lean, gray-haired man in a green Army uniform emerged from the VTOL. He smiled and waved at the man and woman approaching the craft. As he was going down the stairs, three more men stepped from the VTOL and paused at the top of the stairs to survey the huge airport in undisguised awe.