Out of the Ashes by William W. Johnstone Page B

armed?” Rees asked.
    â€œYes, sir. All the way. I have given orders to have them destroyed if they don’t set down and surrender.”
    â€œThe silos?”
    General Hyde shook his head. “We can only hope they will listen to reason and come around.”
    Logan said, “General Dowling? Did I understand you to say you ordered your people to shoot any marine involved in this uprising?”
    â€œYou damned sure did, Senator.”
    â€œBut that’s unconstitutional, sir! Those men are entitled to a trial.”
    â€œOh, they’ll get a trial, Logan,” the marine assured him. “The shortest judicial proceeding in history.” He turned his back to the senator.
    President Rees glanced at Divico. “Admiral, was it ... some of your people who brought down the VP’s plane?”
    The admiral’s face was gray with exhaustion and tight with anger. “Yes, it looks that way, sir. From the maverick carrier.”
    â€œAnd . . . ?” Rees pressed him.
    â€œI’ve given the captains one hour to acknowledge my surrender orders and begin steaming to the nearest port. Or”—he sighed—“I will have the ships blown out of the water.”
    â€œAll the men on those ships may not be a part of the coup attempt,” Logan said.
    â€œYes, Senator.” Divico’s gaze was hard. “Believe me, I realize that far better than you.”
    â€œGeneral Travee?” an aide said. “We finally found out why the secretaries of the services have not responded to our calls.”
    â€œLet me have it.” Travee spun around.
    â€œThey’re dead, sir. All of them shot to death.”
    â€œSecretary of defense?”
    â€œStill no word, sir.”
    Another aide walked into the oval office. “The press has put some of the story together, Mr. President. CBN just broke the news of a revolt within the military. Another network added a bit more to that and brought up rumors of a nuclear war. Missing missiles and so forth. It gets worse as it goes along.”
    â€œHow are the American people reacting?”
    â€œJust as we expected, sir. Panic. Riots starting in some of the cities; many trying to flee the cities.”
    â€œWhere in the hell do they think they’re going?”
    The aide shook her head. “They don’t know, sir. They’re just running scared.”
    President Rees shook his head in frustration. He glanced at his watch. “Do we have the secret service clean?”
    â€œYes, sir. That’s positive.”
    â€œThen the White House is secure?” he asked.
    â€œUntil the birds fly,” he was told. With that, President Rees puked all over the carpet.
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    Ben Raines sat in his den and watched the TV news. Regular programing had been abandoned. Ben drank his whiskey and was sourly amused at the panic building within the U.S.
    He arrogantly toasted the TV newswoman with his whiskey glass and said, “I always wanted to screw you, honey.”
    Then he rose from his chair, turned off the TV, and put on a symphony. Wagner’s Ring.
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    The pistol in Bull Dean’s hand never wavered. The hammer was jacked back to full cock, the muzzle pointed at Adams’ belly. “I should have put it together months ago, Carl,” he said to his longtime friend. “You’ve been playing me for a fool. Worse than that, Cart—you’ve been playing God.”
    â€œYou’re wrong, Bull!” Adams protested. He kept his hands at his side. He made no quick moves; he knew the Bull too well to try to jump him. The Bull was an old man, but still as deadly as a black mamba. “It was now or never, Bull. The only way.”
    â€œYou gave the orders for those units to revolt—knowing they would be killed.”
    â€œI had to start it rolling, Bull!”
    â€œYou gave the orders to shoot down the VP’s plane. Leak the Thunder-strikes to the press.”
    â€œI had