“The thought of even reaching a quorum to make the meeting legal is of course absurd. There’s been advisory meetings with the president by surviving members of both houses who are now living in Bluemont, but that’s it for right now until we can hold legitimate elections.”
“What you are telling me is that elections have been postponed indefinitely?”
“Hopefully by next year we’ll be ready again,” Dale replied quickly. “John, it’s obvious by your questions you are passionate about the Constitution.”
“We all should be; it’s the only thing we have to hang on to if this country’s ever going to recover.”
“That is a major reason we need the Army of National Recovery and men with your convictions serving in it. We have to restore internal order, John. Once that is achieved, we can focus on containing the obvious expansionism of China. If need be, a redeployment to the West Coast by some of the ANR units will show China we mean business; they back off, and with the West Coast secured, Mexico will pull back, as well. Mission accomplished. We then move to a full restoration of our government under the Constitution.”
John nodded thoughtfully with that. This man fumbled more than one point over the last week, but he certainly must have studied my file well, John thought. While in the army, John had written more than one paper about the constitutional constraints regarding the use of military force, and though a strong pro-Union supporter when it came to the Civil War, he was more than a bit bemused at times with how Lincoln skirted the limits of his office to preserve the country as a single entity.
Lincoln made the tough decisions necessary to save the Union, and John believed that if Lincoln had lived, he would have relinquished his powers that transcended constitutional limits and restored proper balance in the months after the Confederacy collapsed. He was, ultimately, an honorable man.
Was this president, who did hold her office as defined by the Constitution, of the same character and moral fiber as Lincoln? If not, what might the ANR devolve into?
At this moment, he realized, perhaps the only way to find out for sure was to take the commission, go to Bluemont, and find out directly. I can always resign if not satisfied, he reasoned.
“If I enlist, your offer to cut the draft in half for my community stands firm?”
“Absolutely, John!” Dale cried. “Yes, absolutely, yes! Some of them can go with you to Bluemont—your daughter, of course, and even your wife and grandson, if you wish. Provisions like that are made for someone with your rank.”
“Oh, really?”
“Come on, John. I remember reading somewhere that Grant’s wife accompanied him into the field, sent there to help ease the migraines he suffered from. Lincoln had his son placed on Grant’s staff near the end of the war rather than see him go into a combat unit. Lee pulled his youngest son out of combat and had him moved to a staff position. Generals and admirals often did and still do such things.”
“And yet I recall that one of Teddy Roosevelt’s sons went down in flames over France in 1918,” John replied. “And though I don’t think much of some of the things FDR did, his son was up on the front lines and was in the thick of it on Midway Island when everyone figured the Japanese were going to overrun the island, and he’d have been killed or taken prisoner. So it does go both ways.”
Even as he spoke, John realized this man certainly had studied him to have so quickly pulled up examples of Lincoln, Grant, and Lee to assuage any guilt he might feel about favoritism.
“How soon can you report?” Dale asked, stepping around this debate with a historian.
“I’ll go in with the rest,” John said, “which, based on your offer of the other day, gives me about three and a half weeks to settle things.”
“We’re establishing some air transport this weekend, John. Think of it! Planes, transports coming in from an airbase near Bluemont and another air link down to Charleston. A lot of our assets that were positioned overseas are finally going into service back here in the States. We’ll most likely be able to fly you up there rather than risk road transport for you and yours.”
“Okay, that sounds fine.”
“And we now have air assets as I told you about when we first met. The government allocated two Apache helicopters and two Black Hawks, to be permanently based in Asheville.”
“I heard about that,” John replied, not revealing that it was Forrest Burnett who had told him of the arrival of the choppers. “Apaches. I think they’d be needed more in Texas, for starters.”
“Each district is getting at least a couple of aircraft for local security.”
He wasn’t sure how to react and did not reply.
“By the way,” Dale said, still smiling, “I heard about your own air force.”
“You seem to hear a lot,” John replied.
Dale shrugged. “It’s my job.” There was something about the way he said it, but John let it pass. “It’s a nice asset, John. I’d really like to have access to it at times.”
“You’ll have to take that up with the town council. I’m stepping back from those types of decisions.”
“Oh, of course, but please do mention it to them at the next meeting.”
“I’ll do that.”
Dale stood up, smiled, and extended his hand. “Can I make an official announcement of your decision to serve?”
“For the moment, Dale, let’s just hold on that. I still have to clear it with my family and the town council. So can you ride with that for several days?”
“Of course, John—or should I say General Matherson?”
John did not reply to Dale pinning the title of rank on him before he had officially signed. He sensed the purpose of their meeting was at an end and stood up.
They shook hands. John turned to leave, looked down at the glass with the ounce of scotch still in it, and with “talking turkey” done, he gladly downed the second ounce.
“You can take the bottle along if you want, John.”
John smiled and shook his head. “Wouldn’t think of it. Some people see that and they’ll think it’s a bribe.”
“Okay then. Let’s plan on meeting the middle of next week for an update. Before I forget, I was really impressed with the work your people have been doing with the phone and electrical systems. Could you ask those overseeing the work if they’d mind if they’d come see me and perhaps lend some advice for operations here in Asheville?”
“Will do.”
He was out the door and surprised to see Makala sitting in the dim light of the lobby, head bowed, nearly asleep.
“Come on, sweetheart, wake up.”
She stood up with a start, smiled, and leaned up to kiss him. “What in the hell have you been drinking?” she asked sharply.
“A scotch.”
“He actually had scotch, real scotch?”
He merely nodded. She was silent as they went for the main exit.
“Do you need to pick up your pistol on the way out?” John whispered.
“As if I’d actually obey that one? You are kidding, aren’t you?”
They went to the car, parked outside in the darkness, not commenting to the uniformed guards, who did not acknowledge their passing.
“You still have a concussion and have been drinking, so I’ll drive,” Makala announced, opening the door for him over his objections.
They drove in silence, John scanning intently, shotgun on his lap and pistol by his side, not relaxing until they reached the roadblock into their own territory near Exit 59. Once cleared, he finally relaxed.
“So what happened?” Makala asked.
“I took the job. I felt I had to.”
Not another word was exchanged during the long ride home. And for several hours after they slipped into the house, with Elizabeth, Ben, and Jen fast asleep, John sat alone in the garden by Jennifer’s grave. When he finally went to bed, Makala was asleep, as well.