Out of the Ashes by William W. Johnstone Page A

how in the hell did you get in here? You certainly were not invited.”
    â€œMr. President, I did not mean to be impertinent. But I might add that I have spoken again and again about those special troops being overtrained and being nothing more than animals. I—”
    â€œOh, shit, Logan,” General Travee shut him up. “Close your mouth. The special units are all right. Thank God,” he added. “ They are all responding to my orders. I’ve got SEALs coming into the city from Camp A P Hill now, just in case the police need a hand. But that is not the immediate problem.” He waved a piece of paper, just handed him by an aide. “This is.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Rees asked.
    â€œChina has ordered all troops ready for full-scale war. Massive build-up along the Russian border. Our snoops say Russia is gearing up for war. Silos ready. And,” he said, looking straight at Logan, “I have ordered ours to do the same.”
    â€œI must protest that order!” Logan said. “I would like to convene Congress to discuss this.”
    â€œYeah, that’s all we need,” Dowling growled.
    â€œThen Brady was right,” Rees said.
    â€œBrady who?” Logan flapped his arms.
    â€œSir?” An aide spoke to Travee. “The press is screaming for information. They’re already on the air with a bunch of shit from overseas bureaus. What do I tell them?”
    â€œWhere is Fayers’ press secretary?” Logan demanded.
    â€œGone,” Dowling said. “He was one of the other side.”
    â€œWhat other side?” Logan almost screamed the words.
    He was ignored.
    The general smiled. “Tell them . . .” His smile broadened. “Tell them with all the heartfelt sincerity you can muster, that General Travee is leveling with the members of the fourth estate when he says: ‘GO FUCK YOURSELVES!’ ” He roared.
    The military in the room grinned—to a person. Someone among them finally got to convey to the press what they really felt about them.
    â€œWe must tell the American people what is going on,” Logan said. “We must.”
    â€œTime,” President Rees said. “We have to buy a little more time.”
    â€œWhy?” Logan demanded.
    â€œSo the military can get set up in a defensive posture,” Travee said. “Clear the bases of all those men not loyal to the government.”
    A colonel, in civilian clothes, walked into the oval office. “Sir, I’ve got General Graham from Fort Campbell on the horn.”
    Travee grabbed up the phone. “Go, Mike.”
    â€œI’ve had a little trouble here, C.H.” The sounds of gunfire were faint in the background. “But it’s just about under control. Not too many men involved in the rebellion. I just spoke with Harrison down at Bragg, and Huval out at Carson. They’re secure. Same with Lewis and Stewart. Fort Knox is a hot spot, C.H.—bad over there. You want my boys to go in?”
    â€œDon’t strip yourself bare, Mike. You got my message. You know the balloon is going up.”
    â€œYeah, I know. O.K., we’ll secure Knox. I got some Green Bennies coming in from Bragg, along with the Rangers from the First, Seventy-fifth. Take care, C.H.”
    â€œLuck to you, Mike.” Travee hung up. He wondered if he’d ever see his friend again.
    Admiral Divico said, “I’ve got one carrier and several destroyers out of pocket, C.H. Oh, we know where they are; they’re just not responding to orders.”
    â€œI’ve had some trouble,” General Dowling said, a grim look in his eyes. His jaw was set like a hunk of granite. “My men put it down—hard. I have ordered any rebel survivor shot. Goddamn a traitorous marine!”
    â€œI’ve got some pilots missing,” General Hyde said. “And their planes. A few silos that aren’t answering.”
    â€œAre the planes