Apache Dawn, - [little bear else holmelund minarik txt] 📗
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Cooper wanted to smile but couldn’t. “So who’s the real president, then?”
“Well, son, I guess my Commander in Chief is now Orren Harris.” The Commandant looked around the rubble at their feet, the dust in the air, and the debris left over from the Korean attack. “I’ll wager he’s got better digs at NORAD than you got here, Master Chief.”
Cooper’s radio broke squelch. “Chief Braaten,” said Arol’s voice.
Cooper held up a finger for the Commandant to pause. “Go ahead,” he replied.
“The base is ours. The CO is weak as a kitten—but spitting mad.” Cooper could hear the smile in Arol’s voice. “I think he’s gonna be all right.”
“That’s great. I got someone here who’ll want to speak with him.”
“What did he mean, ‘the base is ours’? What’s the sit-rep?” asked the Commandant, motioning for Cooper to lead them into the bunker.
Cooper started walking, the Commandant at his side. “The base XO took a personal phone call from President Barron and gathered up the hotheads here,” said Cooper. “He locked up General Nadina—the base commander—and tried to take over. They had a heads-up that we were coming and attempted to take us prisoner. Said he had orders—direct from Barron, to execute us.”
“Mutiny,” growled the Commandant. He pointed at Cooper. “I’m willing to bet those desk jockeys back at the Pentagon are behind this mess. We haven’t seen much in the Corps, but from what I understand, the Army is dealing with a pretty significant amount of desertion. Probably going to get worse now that Denton is gone.” He sighed, as if to say ah well, nothing I can do about that.
“So, where is this son-of-a-whore base XO?”
“He tried to pull a gun on me, sir, so I personally authorized his dishonorable discharge,” Cooper said matter-of-factly.
The Commandant laughed again as he ducked under a florescent light hanging by a single wire. “You ever change your mind about bein’ in the Navy, you come see me, son. You’d make a damn fine Marine.”
Washington, D.C.
The White House
Presidential Emergency Operations Center
“What the hell do you mean, ‘you can’t get a hold of the Commandant of the Marine Corps’? Find him, you idiot!” hissed the Vice President. She slammed the phone down on the conference table and composed herself.
President Barron smiled dreamily. She was more than capable of taking over for him for a while. He could go spend some more time with Jayne…
A side door opened and Jayne entered, carrying a stack of papers and folders. The President lost all thought for his VP and incompetent staffers. All he could smell was her. All he could see was her. He felt his pulse quicken and his groin stir. Jayne winked at him and ignored the VP.
“They’re ready for you, Mr. President,” Jayne purred. She held the papers across her chest and nodded to Vice President Hillsen.
“Ms. Renolds.”
“Madam Vice President.”
It was easy for anyone to see there was a distinct animosity between the two women in the room, but the President couldn’t care less what Senator—Vice President—Hillsen thought or wanted. He patted his lap and smiled. Jayne peered at him over the rims of her fake glasses—she wore them just for him. The seductive twinkle in her eye made his toes curl. She walked over, hips swaying in her graceful, catlike walk of hers, and lowered herself demurely onto his lap with a sigh.
The President closed his eyes as the weight of her settled onto his lap. He leaned back in bliss and wrapped his hands around her lithe waist. He rolled his head to the side, as if drunk, and smiled at VP Hillsen. The look of indignation on her face was priceless.
“Mr. President!” HIllsen hissed. “We—we are about to have a cabinet meeting. You…you can’t have this…woman…sitting—I mean—it’s just not done…” She was getting more and more flustered by the minute.
President Barron barked a laugh and tucked one of his hands under Jayne’s blouse, his fingers tingling at the contact with her soft, warm skin. “Let ‘em look,” he murmured. “Might get a rise out of ‘em, eh?”
Jayne giggled. The Vice President frowned.
“Uh,” said someone’s voice from across the room. The President looked around Jayne’s back and saw the bank of monitors were lit up with the faces of the Joint Chiefs and the rest of the cabinet. One screen—for the Commandant of the Marine Corps—was conspicuously dark.
Jayne waved coyly to the heads on the screens. More than one flushed pink. The Secretary of State actually grinned before he caught himself and cleared his throat, his face souring.
“Sir, is this really appropriate—” began the Chief of the Navy.
“Am I the President of the United States?”
“Well…of course, sir.”
“Then I shall do as I please, or I may start looking for a new man to run the Navy. Am I clear?”
“As a bell, sir.” The Admiral’s neck and jowls turned red.
“Now,” said the President, as he tickled Jayne's taut belly. She tittered behind a hand and playfully slapped at his roaming fingers. “I thought it high-time to bring our new Vice President up to speed.” He turned to the Chief of the Air Force. “Let’s start things off with China. I believe you have some good news?”
“I do,” said General Andrews in a stiffly formal voice. A screen in the middle changed from the Secretary of Homeland Security’s face to what looked like a satellite image of an urban center somewhere.
“What is that?” asked Jayne, pointing at the screen. She sounded like a high school girl, her voice full of innocence and curiosity. The President could feel the old comfortable heat in his groin begin to spread through his body. He wanted her. Badly. But he had to suffer through this meeting, at least for appearances.
The General cleared his throat. “That, Miss…ah…” The loose flesh under his jaw began to turn red. He cleared his throat again. “That’s downtown Pyongyang. This is footage from one of our stealth bombers. We sent in a flight of three out of Wright-Patterson as soon as you gave the green light.”
“Looks like a video game,” the President chuckled.
“General, is this live?” asked the new vice president.
“No, ma’am,” the General said, his face showing signs of relief in talking to someone that was actually supposed to be attending the meeting. The President frowned. It was clear the General didn’t approve of Jayne, either. He’s no different than the Admiral. That puts him on the shit-list, for sure. I think I’ll just replace all of the cabinet…
“This was taken about an hour ago.” The face on the wall looked down. The image started to move, clouds winking in and out of the picture, the ground slowly, ever so slowly, rolled by. The President whistled. The plane taking this footage has to be way the hell up there…
“Roger, Hightower, authentication received. We are go for deployment.”
“Who said that?” asked the President. His mind was enveloped in a thick fog of Jayne’s scent. She squirmed again in his lap, sending waves of pleasure rippling through his body.
“That’s the pilot of the stealth bomber, sir,” said the Air Force Chief.
“Time to target, thirty seconds. Opening the doors.”
“Doors open,” replied a second voice. A green light flickered to life in the upper corner of the display.
“That’s the co-pilot’s voice, sir,” said the General.
The President closed his eyes. “I gathered that, General.” He winked at his new vice president and chuckled at her embarrassed look.
“Target acquired. Twenty seconds.”
“Guidance spooling up. GPS locked on. Payload is locked and loaded,” announced the co-pilot.
“Ten seconds. Final arming. Lights are green, we’re good to release. On my mark…three…two…one…release.”
It was all so businesslike. So casual. The President stopped paying attention to the voices on the speakers as the pilots announced the bomb was away and they were hightailing out of North Korean airspace. After the release, the
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