The Council had been gathered for over an hour. The Grand Master addressed the group.
"Everything is now in place." He placed his hand on the box containing the Lance. "The Holy Spear is in our possession. Our success is assured. Events are going well in the Middle East. The Muslims are convinced the Jews destroyed al-Aqsa. They are preparing to attack. The Jews argue among themselves. They are likely to launch a preemptive strike, provoking an even greater response."
The Grand Master turned to Dysart.
"It's time to begin the next phase. Is everything ready?"
"Yes. The warhead will detonate on the Jew Sabbath. Our analysis indicates full-scale escalation within 24 hours. This isn't 1967. The Jews will be defeated. This time, the Angel of Death won't be passing over."
There were smiles and chuckles all around the table.
Dysart went on. "Intelligence after the blast will point to Iran. The Jews are certain to retaliate but it will be too late."
"What about the oil fields?"
"None of our scenarios indicate more than moderate damage to the fields. If the Jews use nukes they'll aim for the cities, not the oil. Mecca, Tehran, Damascus, perhaps Cairo, perhaps Islamabad. Most of their nuclear arsenal is tactical, but their missiles are capable of long range accuracy. They will simply aid us in ridding the world of more non-Aryans."
The Grand Master turned to a man on his left.
"What is the status of our naval operation?"
The man cleared his throat. "Everything is ready. Elements of the Fifth Fleet will be attacked in the Gulf of Hormuz by what appear to be Iranian gunships. There will be American casualties."
"And Rice?"
"Rice will be in Chicago addressing a convention when he receives the news. When he leaves the building, he will be assassinated."
The speaker nodded at another man sitting at the table.
"Our new President will engage the Iranians. After the air and missile strikes, the follow up invasion will leave our military overextended. It will take time to bring back the draft and increase war production, but it is so easy to manipulate public opinion. Within two years we will have the armies we need, with weapons and resources our forefathers only dreamed of."
Dysart spoke. "We have an ongoing problem, minor, but it needs to be handled. The woman, Harker. She knows too much. She needs to be eliminated, along with her unit."
"Why hasn't it been done?" The Grand Master gave Dysart a cold stare.
"They've been lucky. They escaped us in Argentina and until today I didn't know where they were. That location has been determined. I intend to take care of it personally."
"See that you do." The Grand Master looked around the circle. "Are there any other issues we need to address?"
No one spoke. Almost as one, the men stood. They raised their arms high in the Nazi salute. "Seig, Heil!"
Hail, Victory!
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Elizabeth pulled into the garage at the safe house. She'd made a run with Steph and Selena for supplies while Ronnie kept watch on the security monitors. They began unloading the car. Lamont's mother had needed emergency surgery and he'd gone to the hospital in the Capitol. Nick was meeting with Rice's principal aide at a discreet restaurant in Washington.
Elizabeth, Selena and Stephanie walked into the kitchen, their arms full of groceries. Ronnie sat with his hands on the table before him. His expression was rigid.
"Hey, Ronnie, we're back." Stephanie looked at him. "What's wrong?"
General Dysart stepped into the kitchen from the living room. With him were six men holding Ingram Mac-10s with noise suppressors. Nicknamed "whispering death" in Vietnam, the Macs put out over a thousand 9mm rounds a minute. Obsolete technology. Very, very lethal. Elizabeth froze in place.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Harker." Dysart clenched and unclenched his hands. "Put those sacks down. Slowly."
They set the bags on the floor.
"Take your weapons out and lay them on the floor. Put your hands in back of you. One mistake, my men fire. Don't tempt me."
Elizabeth saw Stephanie think about going for her pistol.
"Don't, Steph. Do as he says." They laid the guns down on the floor. One of Dysart's men kicked them aside.
"Get down on your knees, all of you. You, too." Dysart pulled Ronnie's chair out from under him.
One of the men handed his weapon to Dysart and took plastic ties from his pocket. It took only a minute to truss everyone's hands together behind their backs.
"You can't get away with this," said Elizabeth.
Dysart laughed. There was no mirth in it. "Of course I can."
"How did you find us?"
"Your computer hacking. Difficult to trace, but here we are. You're not as clever as you thought. You shouldn't go looking at other people's emails." He sat down by the table. "Why don't you tell me what you've learned?"
"I've learned you're a traitor." Elizabeth said. "But you already know that."
Dysart stood up, walked over and punched Elizabeth hard in the face. She fell to her side, dazed. Blood poured from her nose. Ronnie made a movement toward Dysart. One of the men hit him in the back of his head with a gun, knocking him to the floor. Dysart turned to Selena and Stephanie where they knelt on the kitchen tiles.
"You won't make any trouble, will you? No, I didn't think so."
Dysart smiled at Selena, an unpleasant, frightening smile. "We have something special planned for you."
He reached down and grabbed Elizabeth's hair, jerked her to her knees. "I enjoyed that." His eyes glittered. "Tie their ankles."
They were trussed up with more ties. "Take them into the cellar and make sure they can't go anywhere. We'll wait for the others to get back and question everyone at the same time. It's instructive when you show someone what happens when they don't want to talk."
Dysart's men dragged them down a narrow flight of stairs into the cavernous cellar. Elizabeth's head bumped on the cellar steps. Their captors bound them sitting against two columns supporting the floor above.
One of the men crouched down in front of Selena. She could smell his stink, a rank, sour smell of unwashed body odor and cheap cigarettes. He reached out and squeezed her breast, twisting her nipple with his fingers, watching her reaction. He grinned as she winced.
He pursed his lips in a mock kiss. "You're mine, sweetheart."
"In your dreams, asshole." Selena's feet were tied but her legs were free. She brought her knees to her chest in one fluid motion and kicked her tormentor hard below the belt. He grunted and flew halfway across the room. His companion laughed.
The man rose to his feet, face black with anger, clutching his groin. He started toward Selena.
"That's enough, Carl," the other said. "There's time for that later. Come on, the General wants us upstairs."
"You'll pay for that, bitch," Carl said.
"That's original. You get that line from a movie?"
"Come on Carl."
The men went back upstairs and closed the door to the kitchen behind them. A single, dim bulb cast scarce light into the basement gloom.
In another time, long ago, wounded soldiers from the Army of Northern Virginia had lain in rows in this same basement. The damp stone walls had seen more than their share of pain and misery.
Elizabeth was frightened. She blew a bubble of blood from her lips. She took a labored breath and thought of her father.
The Judge had been sitting in his favorite green wingback chair by the fire in his study, a fresh glass of bourbon in his hand. Elizabeth had been fourteen years old. Outside, the sub-zero cold of a bitter Colorado winter had covered the Western Slope in ice and snow, but in the Judge's study it was warm and comfortable. They'd been talking about Stephen Crane's book, The Red Badge of Courage. Elizabeth had wondered aloud how men could overcome their fear, be so brave that they would march into the mouths of cannons and almost certain death.