Firepower by John Cutter (ebook reader online .txt) 📕

with me right there in view — with no enemy around me. And he took a shot at me. I have a strong suspicion he wanted to get me away from Gunny and French and shoot me.”

“Oh, bullshit, he was under arrest for coming in like that without reporting properly, without… without…”

Gustafson stared at Colls. “Mac — it seems to me the bullshit here is coming from you. You never said anything about having to shoot at anyone from that helicopter. You kept that from me. Well… it seems there’s some enmity between you and Bellator here. Why is that?”

“I told you before, General — I don’t trust him!” Mac snapped, jabbing a finger at Vince. “He hasn’t been here long enough to be trusted!”

“The whole point of the mission,” Vince said, “was for me to prove myself. Now I’ve done that. Half a dozen men are dead. I put my life and my freedom on the line for the Brethren!”

Gustafson nodded. “Seems that you did. And you succeeded in taking out Stirner. My judgment is this — Sergeant Colls here is on probation. He’s been with me from the start and I’m not going to lose him now. He keeps out of your way, you keep out of his.”

Vince nodded. It was as good as he could hope for. “Yes sir, that’ll work for me — except there’s one issue. He tried to kill me once already — maybe twice. He’s got a gun. I don’t have one. I have the right to bear arms, General. I want to carry my pistol. The one I left with Gunny Hansen.”

“Who the hell does he think he is?” Colls asked in disbelief.

Gustafson took a deep breath. “Very well. I think you’ve earned it. And Mac’s feelings aren’t going to apply here. He seems to have deliberately compromised the end of the mission—”

“He’s lying about that, sir!” Colls protested.

“Don’t interrupt me! He gets his gun. Marco, you see to that.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Mac — leave my office! Go and get some ice for that swollen jaw. Decide if you need an X-Ray. Whatever you need to do. I’ll talk to you later!”

“General—”

“You heard me, Sergeant!”

Colls growled, threw Vince a glance of burning hatred, and stalked out the door.

“Marco,” said Gustafson, “go get that gun and bring it here. His uniform too. Inform Gunny of my decision. I want to talk to Bellator here alone.”

“Yes sir.”

Marco hurried out, closing the door behind him.

“Sit down, Vincent.”

Vince sat across from the desk. He waited.

Gustafson gave him a slight smile. “Rather amusing, the way you carried Mac in here and tossed him on the floor like a sack of potatoes. But hereafter, treat him with respect. Despite everything. Maybe he’ll learn to respect you in return.”

Vince nodded gravely. Playing the part. “Yes sir.”

“And remember — we have chain of command around here. We honor rank. He outranked you. From now on, you will honor rank if you intend to stay with us.”

“Yes sir.”

“We’ll have to get you another uniform,” Gustafson said. “I think we’ll burn that one.”

“Yes sir. There’s blood on it.”

Gustafson tented his fingers. “Vincent — the US military has made black and brown men a significant part of the armed forces. The Pentagon appoints black generals and it kowtows to the Jews. In fact — the Joint Chiefs are traitors to the white race. Which means they are traitors to the true America.” He looked solemnly at Vince. “Do you agree?”

The irony of a highly treasonous man calling the military treasonous made Vince want to shake his head in amazement. But instead, he managed to reply with a reasonable facsimile of solemnity. “Yes sir. They are traitors.”

“Good. I knew that was what was in your heart. The gods have told me so; the Great God has told me so!”

Vince didn’t know how to reply to that. He just nodded in agreement.

Gustafson laced his fingers, leaned forward onto the desk and, almost whispering, he said, “I do things around here on a need-to-know basis, Vincent. You know the saying; three men can keep a secret if two of them are dead. We’re not quite so rigid as that, but close. When Operation Firepower unfolds, there will be six separate groups of men responding from six regions of the country. None of them know their full role. Few of them know the full plan. In fact, most of these men know very little — only that it’s a serious military action to be taken in D.C. They do know that they risk being killed or arrested. We’ve spent years getting men we could rely on, in those conditions. But they understand the need for secrecy. Hence, you’ll understand, I cannot tell you everything.” He took a deep breath and went on, “But I will tell you what your part in it is — at least, initially. On the day of the operation, your mission, Vincent, will be to go to a certain place, where the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be meeting with Defense Intelligence personnel. You will thereupon kill everyone in the room. You will assassinate the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United States military…”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“He wants you to do what?” Agent Deirdre Corlin had raised her voice a little, to go with her raised eyebrows.

Vince glanced nervously at the door of the library. No one seemed to be passing. He was back in Germanic Brethren uniform, but he felt he stuck out like a sore thumb after what had happened with Colls. “You heard right. The Joint Chiefs. I think he figures even if I failed, I’d create so much chaos at the Pentagon it’d be another one of the decoys he prizes. It’ll draw more police and soldiers away from the real attack — and it’ll make