Free Don Pendleton - Civil War II by Don Pendleton Page A

Winston replied.
    Arlington stared with glassy eyes at an unlit cigar. Tom
    Fail-child was trying hard not to smirk and not <|uilr> succeeding. Presently the President sighed and said, "Tom, would you be so kind as to bring some more brandy."
    Winston's was untouched. He waved Fairchild away, fidgeted, and watched his President attempting to pull the mantle of dignity back. The police chief completed his chore and resumed his watch in the chair. The silence ticked on. Presently Arlington sighed heavily and told Winston, "I must apologize to you, sir. I have treated you badly."
    "Thank you," Winston said.
    "And you have treated me badly."
    "Yes sir. And I also apologize."
    "Good. Now we have that rot out of the way. We have made a terrible mistake in this nation, Mr. Winston."
    "Yes sir."
    "Yes. A terrible mistake. We turned the military over to the blacks—lock, stock and artillery. And now we are at their damn mercy, sir. Do you understand that? We are at their mercy."
    "It may not be too late to—"
    "Of course it's not too late! That's the whole idea. It is not too late."
    "I, uh . . . I've lost you, sir."
    "You've never had me, Commissioner." The tired old eyes slid over to inspect Fairchild. "We are going to have to tell him, Tom."
    "I agree, Mr. President."
    "And you understand what this will mean."
    "Yes, sir. I understand."
    Winston did not particularly like the looks exchanged between the two. He watched Arlington, and waited, wondering what sort of game was starting now.
    The President lit his cigar, coughed, then leaned forward in his chair to impale Winston with a faint echo of the earlier hard glare. "You are not in the midst of fools, Commissioner. Did you imagine that you are the only man in government who is aware of the treachery developing in this republic? We have been watching them. We know who they are, and we have suspected for some time what they are up to. I must candidly confess, however, that your intelligence was a bit of a shock. We were not aware of the arms stockpiles. And we were not aware of General Bogan's treachery. Others in the military establishment, yes. We mean to know all of them, and we mean to learn precisely what it is they are planning. And you, Commissioner, must guard your information with your very life. You must keep it to yourself, and you must make no further moves, or you will upset our intelligence effort. Do you understand?"
    "I believe they already know of my suspicions, sir. I had a tail earlier today. I am being watched."
    "All the more reason, then, for you to go about your activities as though you are completely innocent Go back to your job, your job of administering the Negruh's needs. Speak no word to any man regarding this matter. And let your government handle the matter."
    "Forgive me, sir," Winston said hesitantly, "but I feel in my very bones that the situation has gone beyond the help of an intelligence effort. I believe that you should move immediately, forcefully, tonight. Every person known or suspected of treason should be rounded up and locked up. Every police department in the nation should be placed on federal activation, and each of those arms stockpiles should be seized and destroyed. Tonight."
    Arlington sighed, stared at Winston for a moment, then turned to his chief cop. "Tom?"
    Fairchild shook his head. "No, Mr. President. It's the wrong approach. Our intelligence indicates no need whatever for panic at this stage. And we could lose the heart of the entire thing if we move too hastily. Another ten days, I feel, and we'll be ready to move. But certainly no sooner."
    The President nodded and said, "My feelings exactly. Thank you, Tom. Goodnight, Mr. Winston. Thank you for coming."
    Winston's head was spuming. Only vaguely was he aware that he was leaving the President's study. He was moving woodenly at Fairchild's side, through the doorway
    and along the wide corridor, down the steps into the waiting automobile.
    Fairchild started the engine, moved