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“The VTOL?” Plato said in surprise. “But that’s not ours. The aircraft is the property of California. Do we have the right to utilize it?”

I have the right,” Blade stated emphatically. “I’m the head of the Freedom Force, and the Hurricanes will be transporting the Force to all hot spots. Seattle qualifies as a hot spot.”

“But what about fuel for the flight?” Plato queried.

“There is more than enough for the Hurricane to make a run to Seattle,” Blade said. “It can drop me off, then fly to California for refueling. I can arrange a rendezvous for the pilot to pick me up.”

“I notice you are using the singular,” Plato remarked. “Are you going alone?”

“Yes,” Blade responded.

“What?” Hickok chimed in. “The blazes you are!”

Blade stared at the gunman. “This job is my responsibility. I’m in charge of the Force. I’m pledged to safeguard the lives of everyone in the Freedom Federation.”

“You’re also still head of the Warriors,” Hickok noted. “And where you go, we go.”

“I agree with Nathan,” Plato mentioned. “You can’t go alone. Doing so would be rash and foolhardy. After all, the Family is part of the Freedom Federation. We signed a treaty with all the other Federation members, including California, a pact of mutual self-defense. We would be shirking our responsibility if we failed to aid the unfortunates in Seattle.” He paused. “Take as many of the Warriors as you require.”

“I can’t ask any of them to put their lives on the line for complete strangers,” Blade said. “The Warriors swore an oath to protect the Home and preserve the Family, not to defend California.”

“What a crock!” Hickok stated. “We’re Warriors, plain and simple. When someone needs savin’, we save their butts. If some low-down varmint is holdin’ a passel of people out in Seattle, then it’s our duty to teach the prick the error of his ways.”

“Eloquently phrased,” Plato agreed, grinning.

“I don’t know,” Blade hedged.

“I think your new job is goin’ to your head,” Hickok said.

Blade did a double take. “What? Why?”

“Why else would you want to go to Seattle by your lonesome?” Hickok inquired. “Be serious, Big Guy. Whatever is in Seattle defeated a whole destroyer and three hundred sailors. Isn’t that what you said? Yet you’re all set to waltz on over there and pull their fat out of the fire all by yourself?” The gunman snickered. “Give me a break!”

“You should take several Warriors with you,” Plato reiterated.

“But which ones?” Blade speculated aloud.

Plato glanced at Hickok. “Nathan, would you excuse us, please? There is a matter I would like to discuss with Blade privately.”

“You got it, old-timer,” Hickok said, walking to the west.

Plato waited until Hickok was beyond earshot. “You’ll leave tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” Blade confirmed. “I need to spend at least one night with Jenny and Gabe. I owe them that much. Besides, I’ll need the time to prepare. I want to check in the library for everything I can find on Seattle. Old maps. The atlases. Anything. And I need to decide who to take.”

“Perhaps I can assist you there,” Plato commented.

“How do you mean?”

“I was late welcoming you back because of a conversation I was having with several of the Elders,” Plato said. “There is a difference of opinion as to your status in the Family now that you have accepted the post on the Force in California.”

“Difference of opinion?” Blade declared, puzzled. “Why? I can’t be the top Warrior and the head of the Force both. Pick one of the other Warriors to replace me.”

Plato made a smacking noise with his lips, appearing troubled. “I’d rather not.”

Blade studied the Family leader. “Why?”

Plato swept the Home with his right hand. “Because of them.”

Blade’s brow creased as he surveyed the compound. “I don’t follow you,” he confessed.

Plato clasped his hands behind his back, sighing. “You have held the post of top Warrior for almost a decade. During your tenure, you have acquired considerable skill and undeniable expertise in your craft. Your ability is widely recognized, especially by the leaders of the other Federation factions, which is the reason they wanted you to head the Force.” He watched a young mother carrying an infant toward the infirmary. “Choosing a suitable replacement is not easy.”

“What are you talking about?” Blade rejoined. “I’m not the only Warrior with skill and expertise. What about Hickok? Or Geronimo? Or Rikki or Yama? There are any number you could choose from.”

“If only the issue was so readily resolved,” Plato stated wistfully. “True, all of the Warriors you mentioned are proficient in their own right. But none of them—not one of them—possesses the balanced personality traits you do. Each one is deficient in one respect or another.”

“I’m not perfect,” Blade noted cynically.

Plato stared at the giant. “As a Warrior you are, whether you realize the fact or not.”

Blade snorted. “Oh, come on!”

“Hear me out,” Plato suggested. “Let’s examine the candidates you listed. First was Hickok. Nathan is one of the best Warriors, I’ll grant you that. His speed with those Pythons is astonishing, and he had dispatched more adversaries in one-on-one combat than any Warrior except you. But Nathan evinces a disturbing propensity for impetuous behavior. He acts first and thinks about his actions later. Which in itself can be a strength.

But several of the Elders are adamantly opposed to having him as the top Warrior.”

“There are others you could pick,” Blade said.

“Geronimo? A sterling Warrior, but his leadership qualities are in question. Rikki? As a martial artist, he is without peer. And Rikki has been in charge of the Warriors on several occasions when you were absent. Personally, I believe Rikki would make an outstanding head Warrior. But a few of the Elders don’t, and I want to select a candidate agreeable to everyone,” Plato said.

“Then what about Yama or Spartacus?” Blade stated. “Either of them could handle the job.”

“Perhaps,” Plato said. “Perhaps not. Yama has never led the Warriors. Spartacus has, and he performed admirably, but his experience was limited. You must bear in mind an important fact; we are talking about a long-term commitment, a permanent change in the Warrior organization.” He paused, grinning. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Blade asked suspiciously.

“Unless we can develop a standby system instead of selecting a permanent replacement,” Plato said.

“A standby system?” Blade repeated, studying the Family Leader. “Do you mean a temporary system? It won’t work. I’m going to be in California for a long time. Years, maybe.”

“But you could, if you wanted, return to the Home every month or so,” Plato commented.

Blade placed his hands on his hips and locked his eyes on Plato’s.

“Okay. Enough is enough. Quit beating around the bush. You have something on that devious mind of yours, and I want to know what it is.”

“Very perceptive, as usual,” Plato said, smiling. “Yes, I do have an idea I’d like to share with you. But first I should explain my motivation.”

“I’m all ears,” Blade assured him.

Plato pointed at a group of six children playing tag nearby. “Take a look at them. A good look.”

Blade stared at the children, thinking of his young son. “So?”

“So I have a supreme responsibility to those young ones, and to every member of our Family, to chose the best possible candidate as head Warrior,” Plato stated. “The safety of the Family depends on my choice.