Union. Controlled Xantaeus proliferation should bring back an era of mutually assured destruction and a return to an enforced global peace.
"Dan, the Russians and the Chinese'll have their own nondepleting neurotrops soon. So too the Indians, Pakistanis, Israelis, and Saudis. Without deploying Xantaeus first, we'll be at their mercy."
"Just like with nukes," Gabriel said. "Get' em or die. Damn."
"Damned if we do, damned if we don't," Braxton agreed, "We're either out front or we're toast."
Gabriel shook his head slowly. They approached Century Park East. "You're right yet again, sir. Absolutely correct. We either have to ride the tiger or get eaten." "War really is hell. Always has been. Your agony over Xantaeus has been repeated every time a new generation of weapons has come on the scene from bows and arrows to guns and nukes. There is always a new tiger to ride. But the only thing worse than fighting a war-"
"— is losing one," Gabriel finished the General's oft-repeated motto. "You're right again, sir."
Braxton clapped Gabriel across the shoulders. "That's why you'll make a good secretary of defense. You've got the mind of a soldier and the conscience of a philosopher.
Don't stop raising the questions."
They stopped for a traffic light as northbound traffic spilled past them, splashing up ahead into a left-turn jam at Santa Monica Boulevard, The signal changed and they followed security across. Around them, the motorcycles and the limo kept pace. Half a dozen paces later Braxton turned to his long-time adjutant. "Dan, as it happens, I need to chat with you about Enduring Valor as well."
Gabriel gave him a go-head look.
"Mistakes have been made," Braxton said. "Serious mistakes I have learned about just today. Mistakes endangering the program, my presidential campaign, our plans to reshape the military, and quite frankly my entire career.
"I don't have to remind you that without Project Enduring Valor there is no possible way we can build the fighting force the country needs with the shit-pitiful appropriations those clowns on the Hill see fit to give us."
"Yes, sir. The budget and use of proceeds focused my thoughts there. Everything's predicated on Enduring Valor's successful implementation."
"Good. Hold that thought in mind, use it to filter everything I am about to tell you."
They got to Santa Monica Boulevard and turned right.
"By now you know the complete official history of Enduring Valor," Braxton said.
"Today I learned Frank Harper committed some very serious mistakes in the early days, some of them prosecutable crimes."
Braxton let that sink in for several steps. Seeing no signs of weakness on Gabriel's face, he continued, "Harper conducted unauthorized surgeries, tampered with his experimental data to make things look more promising, lied to congressional committees, and delivered outright fabrications to his superiors in the Pentagon."
"And this is coming to light now, after all these years?"
Braxton nodded and concentrated on the muscles in his face, working toward a mask of dismay and the shock of betrayal. "I owe my life to his skill, but he's turned out to have a side that threatens everything."
The lights at the intersection of Wilshire and Santa Monica Boulevard came into view.
"How could that be?" Gabriel asked. "His involvement was half a century ago. Isn't there a fire wall of some sort? Isn't Enduring Valor a new program that pays homage to
Harper's program but is not a continuation of it?"
"It's not that simple. We have enemies in Congress and elsewhere. They don't give a damn about facts or rational debate. They want to win at all costs, which means finding a
'Gotcha!' for their side of things."
Gabriel made a face. "Right. Make a mistake and it's not an honest error, but evidence of conspiracy and evil intent."
Braxton smiled as Gabriel connected this emotional attachment on his own. He still owned Gabriel's heart.
"Remember that," Braxton said. "Because Frank's mistakes have killed people and more need to die."
Then Braxton told Gabriel about Darryl Talmadge, two black attorneys named
Thompson, and a highly decorated veteran and world-renowned neurophysiologist. Then the General connected them all to a string of murders with the dots of a reality he wanted
Gabriel to adopt as his own.
"One of the four is dead. We will not be safe until they all are."
Braxton's words landed on Gabriel like a sandbag. He stopped. Braxton took another step, then stopped and turned to face him. Around them, security people, motorcycles, and the gleaming limo came to a slower halt.
"Sir. Please let me get this straight: you're saying we not only have to kill at least three more people, one of them a brilliant and very brave soldier, but we have to keep it all secret?"
Braxton moved close to the man he had handpicked for secretary of defense.
"Filter it, Dan. Filter the reality through what we talked about."
"But, sir, we are talking about killing innocent people."
"Innocent people get killed in every war, Dan. Ugly. Evil. Reality." Braxton stood close and studied Gabriel's face and the movements in his eyes, which reflected the emotions shifting behind them. The General waited for the right moment, the psychological inflection point. When it came, he spoke again, softly. "Do you remember studying the cases where a ship has taken a torpedo, or a submarine is damaged so seriously, that only sealing off the damaged areas can save the ship? Even if there were sailors still alive in them?"
Gabriel nodded.
"And you realize-you accept-the tragic reality that those lives had to be sacrificed in order to save hundreds of other lives?"
"Sir."
"We must make that decision. If anything derails Project Enduring Valor, millions will eventually die. Perhaps not tomorrow or next year, but when we face an enemy wired on their nondepleting neurotrop and they slaughter our unprotected soldiers. Misguided compassion now for three people will cost us immeasurably more if we wait. If Enduring
Valor is sidetracked, we will never get it back on course in time."
"Jesus!" Gabriel exhaled. "Jesus Christ!" He wiped at his face with a cold hand.
"There must be another way."
"No. We must act now, just like a ship's captain must make his hard decision immediately."
Braxton followed the despair in Gabriel's eyes, watched his shoulders slump under the weight of the revelations. The time for the kill had come.
"Dan, if I could have handled this by myself, I would never have told you about it all. You understand, don't you?"
"Of course."
"I need your help. I've pushed my own resources to the limits." Braxton paused.
"That will change after the election, but for now we have to make the best of what we can cobble together, people we can trust, favors we can call in."
Gabriel felt the dread gathering in his gut.
"I need you to make some calls. Calls to people who are as committed to you as you are to me. People who will take some discreet, out-of-channel action to help us clear this mess up before it destroys us both."
Braxton waited as Gabriel shut his eyes and grimaced.
"This is not right," Gabriel said.
Braxton ignored those qualms. "How about the fellow who took over command of
Task Force 86M from you?"
"Maybe," Gabriel said hoarsely as he opened his eyes. "But-"
"But nothing!" Braxton bore down to close the sale. "Think first of America's future. Then think about your future. You've resigned from the Army. You can't go back."
He paused. "If you won't do this for America or yourself, do it for me. I will be personally ruined without your help. You've followed me through hell, and together we've come out stronger every time. I've come through for you and I've never once asked you for a thing." Traffic sounds washed through the long pause that followed. Braxton watched as