Tyranny (28 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: Tyranny
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His lip curled in a sneer as he said, “Our supporters won't care. Not enough of them, anyway. As long as we keep giving them what they want, they'll keep voting for us. Hell, we're above the law, Angela! You know that.”
“Today we are,” Jessup said quietly. “What about tomorrow?”
The President clenched a hand into a fist and said, “Tomorrow people will believe what we tell them to believe. They'll do what we tell them to do. They'll blame the goddamn Republicans for anything and everything that's wrong in their lives! Just like we tell them. . . .”
Silence hung in the Oval Office air for a moment, silence broken only by the President's harsh breathing. Finally, Jessup asked, “What are you going to do about the situation in Texas?”
“The UN is definitely withdrawing?”
“Yes, sir. The Secretary-General said something about not doing your dirty work for you.”
“Well, then, I guess that the army—”
“With all due respect, sir, if you force your military commanders to give the order to kill American civilians, you run the risk of the front-line troops turning around and firing in the other direction. You don't want to take even the slightest chance of that happening. Once it did . . .”
The President blanched. He knew exactly what his chief of staff meant.
Visions of soldiers bursting into this very office played out in his head. Visions of him being dragged out of the White House, hauled over to one of the trees on the lawn outside, a tree with a rope thrown over a branch, and then...
Jessup knew what he was thinking as she saw the fight go out of him. Power meant everything to him—except when it came to saving his own skin.
He said, “It's over, Angela. We made a bet, and we lost. Simple as that.” He shook his head. “Lost to a damned old codger and a kid. Who would have thought it?”
“Strange things happen in this country, sir. They always have.” She hesitated. “What about Governor Delgado?”
The President's eyes narrowed as hatred blazed in them. He said, “She's drawn the battle lines. We'll let this mess fade for a while. But one of these days soon . . . Texas is going to find out what it's like to go to war against the United States.”
 
West Texas
 
The bodies, the burned-out assault vehicles, most of the signs of battle were gone by the time the sun set that evening, along with the surviving Chinese troops. The bullet-riddled pickups and SUVs by the fence had been towed away. Wounded men were in the hospital. The ones who had been killed were in the morgue. In the days to come, there would be heroes' burials for them.
The country was deeply shaken. The problems here in West Texas in the past had been characterized by the news media as terrorist attacks or blamed on the Mexican drug cartels or a combination of both. That wasn't the case this time. No matter how much the media tried to shield the Democrat politicians involved, people were starting to talk about how maybe what the President had done wasn't right. He had been mixed up in a clandestine deal with the Chinese that could have done major damage to the country, and he had manipulated events so that troops of a foreign nation had ventured onto American soil and killed American citizens, all with the administration's blessing.
The outrage people felt tonight probably wouldn't be enough to change anything . . . but at least for once it was being pointed in the right direction.
At the moment Kyle didn't care about any of that. The only thing that mattered to him this evening was that he was sitting on the swing on G.W.'s front porch with Miranda next to him. His arm was around her, and her head rested on his shoulder.
They sat there in silence for a long time and let the cool, peaceful night air drift over them, but then Miranda sighed and said, “We're going to have to talk about this sooner or later, you know.”
“I don't see why,” Kyle said. “We're both alive, G.W.'s a tough old coot who's gonna be fine, and everybody in the whole dang world knows this ranch is really his, thanks to you. I don't see why we have to talk about a blessed thing right now.”
“It's not thanks to me that the world knows. It was Governor Delgado and the team she put together that proved the land grant was a fake.”
“After you got her started on the idea.”
“And it was Ben Gardner, or whatever his name really is, who exposed the reason behind it. Without the information he brought us . . .”
“What happened to him, anyway?” Kyle asked, curious in spite of himself.
“He dropped out of sight again. I think he's worried that someone will come after him in retaliation for what he did. The Chinese or . . .”
“Or the Democrats,” Kyle said when she didn't finish.
“The President is a vengeful man, Governor Delgado says. Sooner or later he'll do something about what happened today.”
“Texas versus the world, as Colonel Atkinson says.” Kyle chuckled. “I like our odds.”
After a moment, Miranda asked, “What about you, Kyle? What are you going to do?”
“I'm not going back to being a bum, if that's what you're asking. I'm staying right here on this ranch.”
With the clump of the cane he was using because of the minor wound in his leg, G.W. came onto the porch and said, “Darn right you're stayin' here. This'll be your place one of these days, and I've only got so much time left to make sure you know how to take care of it.”
“As long as one of these days doesn't come too soon, G.W.,” Kyle said.
The old rancher grinned and said, “Oh, I reckon I've got a few years of kickin' and fussin' left. Time enough to enjoy playin' with some grandkids.”
“G.W.,” Miranda said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?”
“I don't think so. I know the real thing when I see it, and that's what I see when I look at you two.” He leaned a hand on the porch railing as he peered out across the moonlit range and said, “That's what I see out there, too. Somethin' real, somethin' worth fightin' for. It's been ours for a hundred and fifty years, and we're not gonna give it up.” He turned and started back toward the door. “Sorry I interrupted you young folks. I'll let you get back to whatever you were doin'.”
“Talking about the future,” Kyle said. “That's what we were doing.”
“It's out there waitin' for us all,” G.W. said. “No tellin' what it'll bring.”
The screen door banged behind him as he went in the house.
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
 
Copyright © 2015 J. A. Johnstone
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
 
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
 
PUBLISHER'S NOTE
Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone's outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone's superb storytelling.
 
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
 
PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7860-3607-3
 
 
First electronic edition: July 2015
ISBN-13: 978-0-7860-3608-0
ISBN-10: 0-7860-3608-7

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