Leviathan (13 page)

A long pause and Chesterton growled,
“Well, this may be an Executive Order, Blake, but I'll need to confirm it before any of you take a single step in this facility.”

Blake responded with force.
“That paper comes from the highest level, Colonel. The very, very highest level. And in case you didn't notice, it's been initialed by your own superiors in the Pentagon.” Blake lifted his chin, pushing it forward. “I formally advise you, Colonel Chesterton, that you are relieved of duty.”

“
Am I?” Chesterton snarled, stepping into it. “Barley!”

Barley snapped his head to the door.
“Lock and load!”

Instantly the two Rangers loudly chambered rounds into the M-16s, faces dead calm. And Barley's aspect became utterly dangerous. He placed a hand solidly on the Beretta pistol at his waist, standing behind Chesterton like granite.

Blake stepped back and shouted to the black-clad MPs.

“
Lock and load!”

Chambered rounds thundered across the room from the MPs, and Frank felt his head go light. Then with a movement too quick to follow Barley had jerked out his pistol and thumbed the hammer back instantly to place the barrel point-blank against the nose of the MP
Lieutenant.

With the touch Barley's finger had taken all the slack from the trigger of the semiautomatic, and the MP's face went stark white. His hands dropped limply from his weapon.

Barley's voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

“
You'll be the first,” he whispered to the MP, a cold nod.

The MP
Lieutenant nodded, raising his hands to his sides. Then he gestured quickly, almost frantically, to the rest of the black-clad soldiers who were obviously not regular Army or they wouldn't have surrendered, and they also lowered their weapons.

Implacable and vengeful and terrible, Chesterton stepped forward until he was face to face with Blake. Frank suddenly realized that if anybody got killed, Barley would put the MP
Lieutenant at the head of the crowd. And Chesterton would personally take out Blake, no matter what else happened in the room.

Chesterton's angry voice rumbled in the tense silence.
“You want to go head to head with me, Blake? You want to see who's really been relieved?” Blake blinked, his face white. Took another step backward.

“
Be . . . b-b-be assured, Colonel Chesterton, that. . . that I-I-I’ve been informed of your credentials!” Blake drew a quick breath. “I know very well that you're …  that y-y-you're West Point. Fourth in your class. Just as I know that y-y-you demanded ... very, very adamantly demanded ... to command a Special Force Battalion during Desert Storm.”

Chesterton frowned, eyes darkening.

“Your decision was certainly noble, Colonel,” Blake continued, standing more solidly. “And I know that you ... ah, personally led your battalion to more campaign victories than any other commander of the war. But your stubborn decision to remain in combat, Colonel, also . . . ah, also stalled your career. Your determination to command the soldiers of a Special Forces Battalion during the conflict was—”

“
It was a war, boy. Not a conflict.”

Blake hesitated.
“Yes, of course . . . but, ah, your stubborn determination to command a Special Forces Battalion during the . . . the war . . . removed you from a circle of career-minded candidates.” Blake paused. “Candidates who laid the groundwork for advancement while you were out of the country. And, just to remind you, Chesterton, you are still a Lieutenant Colonel, an 06. While I am an 05. A full bird. So I have the rank, Chesterton. And an Executive Order. And the authority of the Pentagon! So I believe you should carefully consider just how much you are willing to defy!”

Blake glanced at the others, who seemed mesmerized by the conflict.

“I am not sure that this is even the best place for this discussion, Chesterton. But the fact remains that those orders were issued from the Executive Office and signed by your own chain of command. And, regardless of your personal objections, you are still under Pentagon control.”

Silence.

“You know,” Chesterton said slowly, eyes hardening like black diamonds, and just as impenetrable, “I've never liked working with any of you guys, Blake. Because I know that whenever Black Ops takes command of good soldiers, then good soldiers get killed. I saw it in the war. In Beirut. Somalia. Rowanda. It's always the same story. You desk-riding goons don't know the job, and you're too stupid to admit it. But some civilian who's been appointed to a Cabinet post always gives you a command.''

Blake laughed.
“Certainly, Colonel, someone with your consummate credentials will not disobey orders from the highest level. After all, you and I are part of the military machine.”

“
I'm not a machine, Blake.” Chesterton leaned even farther forward, eye to eye. “I'm a gentleman and a professional soldier in the United States Army. And I have a duty to defend my men and protect my government's interests.”

“
As do I,” Blake responded flatly.

“
No you don't, Blake. You work for those clowns in the NSA who send good men to their deaths because they don't have the foggiest idea what real war is all about. You fight a war with polls and toothpicks and little flags. You have no idea what it's like to share the same foxhole and food and ammo as your men just so you can turn a hostile sector into your backyard. You don't know what it's like to watch your men die. Or what it's like to write their mammas back home to tell them the only boy they'll ever have in their entire life just died like a man.”

“
We're both soldiers, Colonel,” Blake responded. “We are expendable assets of our government.”

Chesterton's teeth gritted.
“None of my men are expendable, Blake. And I'm going to need confirmation on this.”

“
You shall have it, Colonel,” Adler said, stepping forward. “In the morning we shall open communications with the Pentagon so that you can confirm whatever—”

“
Open communications?” Chesterton shouted. He looked like he would strike Adler without any hesitation at all. “What do you mean 'open communications'? I've got three platoons of Rangers, and I've got the authority and equipment to communicate with my superiors whenever I deem it necessary and prudent.”

 
“Not any longer, Colonel,” Adler returned, implacable. “Colonel Blake can explain the situation.”

Utterly hostile, Chesterton turned to Blake.
“Well, Blake? I need an explanation right now.”

“
To ensure security, communications are now coded,” Blake responded quickly. “They are coded with an NSA encryption known only to Mr. Adler and myself. So this facility's communications link has now been switched to an NSA satellite which comes in range every four hours. And I sincerely hope that this will not be, ah, a source of tension between us. It is only a temporary procedure.”

“
You're pushing it, Blake. You are on very, very dangerous ground.”

Blake swayed.
“The Army is like a machine, Colonel. It is a machine of men. You know that, and I know that. So we do as we are told. We do as we are told or the machine breaks down. And orders, in the end, are orders. Especially when they are issued from the highest office in the land.”

A slow acknowledgment settled over Chesterton. Frank saw it coming and tried to stop it.
“Don't let them do this, Chesterton!” he interjected. “They're going to wake up Leviathan!”

Chesterton gazed down,
frowning. And without even looking, Barley knew what Chesterton had decided. The big lieutenant slowly lowered his pistol from the face of the MP Commander, still staring the man in the eye.

“
Everything is under control, Colonel Chesterton,” Adler said, forceful again. “You are, after all, a professional. You are part of the, ah, machine. The simple truth is that you are under orders from your own government to submit to Colonel Blake's command. But I do assure you, for your own peace of mind, that we will use every possible security measure.” He turned to gesture. “Dr. Tolvanos is the leading man in this held, and he understands the creature quite well. But first I suggest that you remove Dr. Frank, at least temporarily, from the Observation Room. He appears to be overstressed. Then we can discuss this matter more thoroughly and iron out any details that might concern you. Afterwards we—”

Frank rose, startling everyone.

“
GEO acknowledge my voice!” he said quickly.

“
NO!” Adler bellowed and leaped forward with Tolvanos screaming beside him. Frank sensed a dozen bodies leaping on him from behind.

“
Voice identification confirmed as Dr. Frank,” came the soft reply that somehow penetrated the screams.

“
GEO!” Frank screamed, defensively raising his hands. “Erase all—”

Adler
’s fist slammed into the side of his head, rocketing him back into grappling arms that pulled him to the ground, muffling him, burying his voice beneath shouts that tore through the Observation Room like a bomb blast.

Stunned, Frank caught,
“GEO does not understand Dr. Frank's command. GEO requests that Dr. Frank repeat command for implementation.”

It was the last thing Frank heard, shocked by the sight of Adler's snarling face above him, the huge white fist coming down again to ...

Blackness.

* * *

Connor gently stroked Beth's long brown hair, soft and luxurious tendrils that he combed back from her forehead with his fingers. They lay in the blue-sheeted bed, side by side, bathed in the gray-white light of an early dawn. Sleep had never come to him through the long night.

He had stared at the ceiling for hours, remembering what Thor had said, thinking it through over and over while thin shadows, indistinct and snakeish, crawled across the ceiling. He had watched the shadows a long time, becoming more aware of Beth's head on his chest, thinking more and more of Jordan sleeping blissfully, helplessly, in the adjoining room. He was responsible for their safety; the thought came to him again and again. But he couldn't understand why he was so worried.

Leviathan
, the older man had said. But what did it mean?

Connor wondered at what relation the name might have to the project hidden in the cavern. What have they done? Surely they
couldn't have—no, that is impossible, he told himself, again and again. That is completely impossible. But what did it mean? What was Chesterton so afraid of? Were Beth and Jordan in danger? And what should he do about it? Was there anything he could do? It had been a cacophony of questions through the slow, dark night. Unanswered questions, questions that plagued him with guilt and confusion, and even more guilt. Then he felt soft brown eyes staring at him through the gloom.

“
Are you still awake?”

“
Yes,” Connor replied. “I couldn't sleep.”

Beth's face was shadowy in soft white light as she turned to him, lifting herself onto an elbow. Her other forearm rested across his chest. She stared at him, inches away.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Connor touched her cheek, smiling.
“It's nothing.”

“
Yes, it is.” Awakening quickly. “It's something.”

Connor sniffed, leaning his head back against the pillow. She continued to stare at him.
“It's nothing, really,” he said softly. “I was just thinking of maybe leaving this place a little early. Maybe quitting.”

Even in the dark he could read the surprise on her face.
“Well, you know I'd love that,” she replied. “And Jordan would love it. He's never even known what a real home is. But I'm more interested in why you suddenly want to leave. What's disturbing you?”

“
I'm just tired of this place,” Connor said easily. “I'm thinking that maybe we've already got enough money to buy us a place. Maybe even a farm. Somewhere in the country. A place where Jordan can have a real life. Maybe it's time we moved on.”

“
Are you serious? We'll just leave?”

“
Sure,” Connor said, smiling. “We'll just leave. They can always find somebody else to do my job. I don't mean anything to them. They've got lots of money.”

She laughed.
“Well then, when I go into work I might as well get on the NAV-COM satellite hookup with New York. I'll need to make contact with Mother back in Kentucky and let her know we're coming.”

Connor looked narrowly.
“Your mother?”

Beth's laugh was beautiful.
“Come on, Connor. You know that you love her. The two of you get along great. And we wouldn't have to live with her for that long, anyway. Maybe a couple of months. And living on a real farm would be great for Jordan.” She stared. “He doesn't need to stay here any longer, anyway. This is no place for a little boy.”

“
Yeah, I know. I worry about him a lot.”

“
I know you do. And sometimes ... sometimes I think that you worry too much. Jordan knows how much you love him, Connor. He knows that you love him more than anything else in the world. You're always telling him, and showing him. And he remembers all of it. I don't think there's ever been a little boy who had a more loving father.”