Edge of Valor: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller(64)

Osborne was one hundred percent loyal.

More importantly, he was discreet.

“I’m in no mood!” Governor Duffield said.

“Are you sleeping? It sounds like you’re not sleeping well. You need to relax. Opioids are your vice of choice, correct?”

A sharp intake of breath.

Even after he’d been dishonorably discharged, the General had kept tabs. Just like he’d kept tabs on Rosamond.

Information was power. Some things never changed.

“I requested them just for you.”

“If you’re trying to bribe me, you have another thing coming!”

“Another think coming.”

“What?” the governor screeched. His voice edged closer to hysteria. “What the hell are you—”

“The correct term is ‘another think coming.’ It is a common misperception.”

“Don’t patronize me, you conniving ba—”

“I apologize.” The General fought to maintain his control. He despised this whiny, weak little man who’d somehow managed to rise to a position of power he could never earn and would never deserve.

“I am only thinking of your health, Henry. You’re a nervous wreck. If you continue like this, your well-being will suffer.” He spoke soothingly, like one might speak to a wild-eyed horse who must be pacified before coming to heel.

Governor Duffield breathed heavily into the sat phone. He was debating with himself. His weakness would win out, his addiction long starved through the Collapse.

He only needed to be coaxed a little further.

The General sweetened his voice, took on an air of contrition and solicitude. “Listen, I’ll leave the guardsmen here under the command of Officer Hastings. You may appoint whomever you wish to take over and conduct your affairs from this point forward.

“I will gather my things and tender my resignation immediately upon my return to Lansing. I will personally deliver the letter to your desk first thing in the morning. Handwritten, of course.”

Silence on the other end.

“The situation is controlled. You’ve won, Governor. I will do exactly as you ask. You’ll have no trouble from me. Consider this a small token of my sincerest apology.”

“Osborne has it, you say?” He sounded mollified—and greedy.

“Osborne is in my office now.”

The General waited patiently as the governor made his way from his office to the General’s.

“Tell Osborne that I said to give you the good stuff. The highest quality. While he’s preparing it, please take a load off and have a drink. I’ve been saving something particularly special.”

Osborne and Duffield spoke for a minute. The General discerned murmuring but not individual words.

Governor Duffield let out an impressed whistle. “Hardy l’ere Lalique Crystal Decanter Cognac? How much is this worth? Five grand?”

“Fifteen, at last count. It is a blend of six eaux-de-vies, a hundred years old. Every swallow is a symphony of apricot, honey, and cinnamon. Truly, a cognac to remember.”

“Ahhh. I haven’t tasted good liquor in…at least two months. Feels like two damn years.”

Not even a thank you. The General said nothing.

He watched the waves rippling the lake and waited for the man to consume the first glass and start in on a second.

The arrogance of such small-minded men. How easily they believed the whole world was owed to them.

They never thought to look the gift horse in the mouth.





45





The General





Day One Hundred and Fourteen





“This changes nothing, Sinclair,” the governor said. “You know that. Your resignation letter on my desk tomorrow morning. After this conversation, I never want to see you or hear from you again.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“You go too far. Men like you—you think you’re ironclad. That the rules don’t apply to you. There are still rules!”

“You hired me to break them,” the General reminded him.

“Only the ones I sanction!” Governor Duffield shouted. He was getting worked up again. That wouldn’t be good for his heart.

The General smiled to himself. “You know, I’ve always despised you, Henry.”

A spluttered cough on the other end. “Excuse me?”

“Such a weak-minded pansy you’ve always been. Always anxious for someone to tell you what to do.”

“You can’t speak to me like that! I’m the—”

“I know exactly who you are. Now let me tell you who I am. I am the man who will regain control of this region instead of cowering in the capital, reacting to crisis after crisis. I am the one who’s going to rule this state, not you. You pathetic miserable worm.”

“How dare you—”

“I will not resign tomorrow or any day. In fact, very soon I’ll be sitting in your chair. I’ll have your job. And I’ll be doing a hell of a lot better at it.”

“You can’t,” the governor sputtered. “You have no authority—”

“But I will. It’s unfortunate that you chose not to trust me. I planned to oust Eubanks first, not you. But you’ve forced my hand. It’s a pity. Things would be easier with you functioning as governor, but we make our own choices. And must live with them.” He paused. “Or not.”