So she was drifting away, dozing in the sunlight, radiating such a sense of calmness that John finally set the book down on the floor by his side and drifted off into dreamless sleep, as well.
“John?”
He half opened his eyes, saw Makala looking down at him, and smiled as she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. He yawned and half sat up.
“The meeting.” She chuckled. “Glad you weren’t there.”
“Why?”
“You were called everything from a traitor worse than Benedict Arnold to a hero.”
“I don’t care about that. What about the decision regarding the draftees?”
She smiled. “Six. Exactly six are reporting for duty.”
“What?”
“Six, John.”
“You sound happy about it,” he gasped. “Do they realize what they are going up against?”
“Maury Hurt and Danny, both veterans, laid it out clear enough. Danny, as you know, was drafted for service back during Vietnam. He said that back then he hated the damn hippie draft dodgers, but after all he learned afterwards about the filthy politics behind that war, he wished he had dodged it, as well. Maury, who was in Desert Storm, spoke about the difference between a professional army in peace time—like we had even when fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan and on the day we were hit—and a draftee army. He closed saying he would refuse to be drafted into this ANR. They really helped to tip the scale.”
“What about reaction to that BBC broadcast during the night?”
“That really threw things into turmoil,” Makala replied. “Some said that if this Samuel character is anything like the Posse leader, then nuking him was too humane. Others see it as you do—a step back to the very brink. Most, though, were focused on the fate of that lost battalion of ANR troops.”
John’s feet were on the cold flagstone floor of the sunroom. Jen was still fast asleep. He could hear Elizabeth out in the kitchen, and she and Ben chattered away to each other in the language of mothers with their toddlers; the two understood every word exchanged, while the rest of the world just listened, smiled, and didn’t understand a single word of the happy gibberish. He motioned for the door leading out to the garden, and Makala followed.
“Do they clearly understand what it means? In two days, failing to report, they will all be declared deserters and face execution.” He sighed and sat down on the bench next to Jennifer’s grave, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands.
“I never thought it would come to this. Fredericks will not sit back and let this go unchallenged. He’s a climber, and he doesn’t give a damn who gets in his way. I saw too many like him in the Pentagon and elsewhere, especially in the last couple of years of service. Friends of mine like Bob Scales were becoming a bit of a rare breed who would not hesitate to put their careers on the line if they felt the order was morally wrong.
“I suspect Fredericks will report my refusal back to Bluemont, and they’ll seek to make an example of me. But as for all the others? How does he report that over a hundred have already told him to go to hell? That means failure, and in his game, especially if it is public and not hushed up, that means he loses his job and gets shunted off to one side. He’ll force the issue before they find out, and from four hundred miles away, he can write the after-action report any way he wants, especially if there is no one to report differently.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’ll attack.”
“Attack us with those black-uniformed goons? How many does he have at most? A hundred, maybe? They wouldn’t last an hour against what we have.”
“You know that means casualties on our side,” John replied quickly, and she looked at him and then nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But I have to say the lesser of two evils. From all that you said about this ANR, if those kids go off, how many do you think will be back by Christmas as they promise? Or—let’s get realistic—how many will still be alive five years from now?”
He lifted his face from his hands. “A suggestion, Makala.”
“A suggestion? They voted for you to return as military commander during the current ‘crisis,’ as it was declared.”
“I think it best I not accept. They vote me in, I accept it, the entire town is then culpable in the eyes of Fredericks.”
“That’s what Norm Schiach said—remember, he was a lawyer once with the army, so he is up with these kinds of issues. Nevertheless, he then voted for you to resume command of military operations if Dale makes an offensive move against us. But anyhow, what is your suggestion?”
“Clear the hospital, whether you think they can be moved or not. We always looked at the old Assembly Inn up here as a fallback position as a hospital if forced into a last stand and we lost control of Black Mountain. At least Montreat is highly defendable.”
“Why?”
“Fredericks knows where the hospital is now. He has air assets. If they pull a raid on us as they did with the reivers, I want the downtown area evacuated beforehand. He lost face with not taking Burnett; I think that is where he’ll try to take us first—a night raid to snatch Burnett. Catch us by surprise and make it a show of force. He’ll argue he is not going directly against us but against a former enemy we are harboring. That divides public opinion in the town the following morning if he successfully drags Burnett and some others off. He then turns around and says the issue is settled, all is forgiven, so why fight any further. Yeah, there’ll be some casualties on our side even with that, but then he blames it on me being such a recalcitrant bastard and suggests the rest come into line as long as I give myself up for leading everyone astray.”
He paused, looking off.
“Crafty bastard,” Makala said, sitting down by John’s side. “But Maury, Ed, and others are on the same page with you regarding that. We’re already evacuating the hospital.”
He smiled. Of course they would see it clearly, acting already.
“The suggestion was made by some that you go into Asheville and make one more try.”
“What do you think?” he asked.
“You’ll be hanging from the courthouse steps ten minutes after you arrive.”
He did not reply.
“Are you honestly thinking of turning yourself in?” she cried.
“It’s crossed my mind. Strike a deal even now to reduce the draft. Once in Bluemont, see who is there—maybe some friends I knew before the war. I want to believe my old friend Bob Scales got out of D.C. alive and is out there somewhere. Even now, if I could serve with him in the regular army, I’d do so. If that was the case, I could make a difference.”
“Like hell you will. He’ll string you up in front of the courthouse as an object lesson and then break whatever agreement you made the next day. You even think of going into that city ever again while that pompous ass is in charge and I’ll have Ed lock you up. In fact, it was made clear that if you try to go to Asheville, your friends will arrest you.”
He could not reply. They were putting their lives on the line for him, and it made him decidedly uncomfortable. He sighed, shaking his head. “May I suggest, my dear, you get moving on getting the hospital cleared? It’ll take a lot of work, and we don’t have much time. I really should have suggested it earlier. I’m not officially accepting the offer to take command again, but maybe if Ed and a few others came by this evening, along with Kevin Malady and the other company commanders, we could share a few ideas.”