Free The Remaining: Trust: A Novella by D. J. Molles Page B

easily be left unsaid?
    Abe cleared his throat. “You called for me, sir?”
    His helmet began to feel heavy in his hands. The sling of his rifle felt like it was digging into his skin. He was hungry, though he knew his appetite would be gone by the time he reached food. He could just feel the acid scraping at the bottom of his throat.
    Briggs stood up from hunching over the table. Up to his full height, stretching backward a little bit, and then he regarded Abe with a frank look. “Major, I wanted to talk to you privately, because I’m having some concerns that we’re not on the same page anymore.”
    “Not on the same page?”
    “Do you trust me?” Briggs asked point-blank.
    Abe didn’t immediately answer.
    Briggs shook his head, just slightly. “Losing your trust was not my intention, Abe. You’re an integral part of everything we’re trying to do here, and if things were done without your knowledge, it was not because of any particular desire to hide them from you. Or Colonel Lineberger.”
    Abe shifted slightly. “Colonel Lineberger doesn’t know?”
    “No, of course not.” Briggs half smiled, but it was with a note of sadness. “I wouldn’t tell him something and not tell you. But sometimes…” He seemed to grow exasperated. “Sometimes there are things I do not want the military to be a part of. Because you soldiers are everything these people have. They don’t have homes or belongings or stock portfolios anymore. They have a military. They have fighting men and women such as yourself who are keeping them alive. That’s the only thing they can be proud of anymore. And if I were to make a decision that put that pride in jeopardy…well, that would be a terrible mistake.”
    Abe’s thoughts were muddled.
    There was logic to what the president was saying, but it seemed a pretty veneer on what was essentially manipulation. There was the sense that Abe’s ego was being subtly stroked. Abe had learned long ago that if someone was stroking your ego, chances were they were lying to your face or trying to get something out of you.
    Briggs stared at his table. “Sometimes there are problems that I simply have to handle on my own, Abe. I firmly believe, with every fiber of my being, that I was meant to do the job that I am doing. I believe in the choices I am making. I believe that they are the right ones. That even though they are sometimes ugly, I am doing what needs to be done in order to rebuild this country—and not only rebuild it, but make it better than it was.”
    The president looked up. His eyes were hard. “But some of these decisions are tough. Some of them are dirty. Some of them are bloody. And many of them I do not want to make.” He frowned, balled a fist, and tapped his knuckles on the table once. “But I simply cannot make my decisions based upon the popularity of their results. I cannot do it. I am bound by things more serious than popular opinion . I am bound by a duty to rebuild this place, to make it safe again, and before any of that happens, there is going to be goddamned hard times, just like there has been.”
    Abe regarded the man standing before him, unsure of what to think.
    Briggs met his gaze straight on. “I talk, but I’m not sure I’m making myself understood.”
    Abe tapped the dome of his helmet against his leg. “Sir…I’m a simple, direct man. Perhaps you could speak simply and directly. It’s just us.”
    Briggs nodded slowly, as though sizing up the situation. After a moment, he spoke, and his voice was flat, bereft of its usual sonorous qualities. “I cannot be beholden to the people,” he stated. “In order for us to survive and once again thrive, and for democracy to have a place here, we have to reestablish our civilization—our civilized society . But we can’t do that with a democratic system in place. Because the people are incapable of leading themselves out of this mess. We have to first make this country a place that is safe enough to