“At its worst, it’s much nicer than this place,” Shovell answered.
“Ah, yes,” Metzger smiled. She wouldn’t get much from this man, she knew, at least not the standard information like troop strength, defensive dispositions, that sort of thing. She nodded. “I come from a place called Trinkatat, ever heard of it?”
“Yeah,” Shovell responded, “all the women there are whores, I hear.”
“Ennis, be nice. You don’t mind if I call you Ennis, do you? How long have you been in the army?”
“All my life.”
“Do you like it?”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Shovell almost shouted.
Metzger nodded. “Sorry. Dumb question, Ennis. I’d like to be home myself, drinking a beer right now. Would you like a beer, Ennis?”
Shovell shook his head. “You married?” Shovell asked. He did not see any rings on her fingers. Her nails were cut short but they were clean, he observed.
Metzger smiled. “Please. I ask the questions here, okay?” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Look, Ennis, let’s cut the crap and get down to cases. I need to know some things about your army, nothing vital, because you don’t know anything vital, you’re only an infantry private. But tell me about your unit, what you know about the other units in your army, how things are out there. That’s not important information. You won’t be betraying your comrades! Other guys we captured during that raid have told us a lot, so you wouldn’t be the only one to cooperate. Come on, you cooperate with me,” she shrugged, “and in a little while you’ll be in a comfortable bed or, if you like, way in the rear, sucking on a beer. Ennis, this war is over for you. Make your stay with us easy on yourself.”
“Why don’t you make things easy on me? Let’s fuck.” Private Ennis Shovell, New Genesee National Guard, now a prisoner of war, instantly regretted making that remark and his face reddened. Metzger only smiled, as if used to such comments, and this increased Shovell’s embarrassment so he rushed on, “All right, all right, I do have some vital information that you need to know.”
Metzger nodded, the smile still on her face, but she said nothing.
“You can’t crack us, the Marines are on their way, and when they get here, we are going to kick your motherfucking asses into next year.”
Metzger had what she wanted.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
* * *
Lieutenant General Jason Billie, Director of Operations for the Confederation Combined Chiefs of Staff, had risen far, thanks to his abilities as the consummate staff officer and a schemer. At the military academy his fellow cadets had dubbed him “Jason the Janus”; they realized even then Billie’s aptitude for duplicity. The name had stuck throughout his career.
General Billie never attacked anyone directly, always through insinuation. A master of innuendo and irony, he demolished his enemies and competitors over time by dropping casual remarks about their shortcomings in the presence of their superiors. He did this in the utmost good humor, pretending an innocent joke at the other person’s expense. And when those superiors would defend the person Billie was attacking, he would chuckle and instantly agree with them, in fact deny that he bore them any ill will, but the remarks so casually dropped had a tendency to stick.
So in a meeting where Major General Alistair Cazombi suggested maybe the quarantine on the transfer of Marines of 34th FIST might be removed, Billie had immediately replied, “Alistair, have you ever known a twenty-three-year-old with a snout full of beer to keep his mouth shut?” Admiral Porter, the Chairman of the Combined Chiefs, laughed along with the other officers in that meeting, but Billie had inserted a seed in the admiral’s mind that eventually grew into the confrontation between him and Cazombi that had resulted in the latter’s transfer to Ravenette. That’s how Billie got Cazombi out of the way for good, or so he thought. He hated the plainspoken, laconic Cazombi because behind that stoic facade that had earned him the nickname “Cazombi the Zombie,” dwelt a superior intelligence that saw right through Jason Billie.
But not even two-faced Lieutenant General Billie could have anticipated the role Fate was to play in regard to Alistair Cazombi when it thrust him into the position of defending the besieged garrison at Fort Seymour and subsequently brought him to the attention of the President herself, who compared him with the heroic Jonathan Wainwright of Corregidor fame. That was the sort of attention that did Cazombi no harm. Billie either, because Admiral Porter had to take the heat for transferring Cazombi, once the word got out how that brilliant and brave officer had been treated by the Chairman of the Combined Chiefs of Staff. That was how ingeniously Billie planned his moves. But Cazombi’s fame did not help Jason Billie, who was hankering badly for his next star. It was the army’s turn next to contribute a general officer to be Chairman, since that position rotated among the services periodically. Another star for Billie and the new Chairman could very well be—Full General Jason Billie. And that fourth star could not be denied him if he could get command of the field army the Confederation was raising to go to the relief of Cazombi.
So Lieutenant General Jason Billie broached the subject with Admiral Porter in private after a meeting of the full staff. That meeting had been held to update Porter on Billie’s plan to deploy the troops needed for the field army. As usual, Billie had handled the planning brilliantly. He’d dubbed it “Operation MacArthur.”
“What’s on your mind, Jason?” Porter leaned back comfortably and regarded his operations director frankly, almost affectionately. He was very satisfied with the way the meeting had gone and was thinking ahead to the briefing he would soon give the President. He anticipated a very successful briefing that would restore his luminescence among the civilians. He had moved quickly and decisively, in large part due to Billie’s expertise as a planner and organizer. But the President would never know anything about Jason Billie’s role in Operation MacArthur, only that Admiral Joseph K. C. B. Porter was responsible for it.
“I want command of that field army, sir.”
Porter sat up quickly, clearly surprised. “Ah?” was all he could say at first. “Jason, would you have a cigar?” he offered, to give him time to think of a reply. He already had someone in mind for that command, someone he wanted to get rid of but someone whose selection was sure to please the President.
“Sir, let me be frank.”
“Please do.” Porter lighted the cigar for Billie.
“I personally organized the force you will dispatch to Ravenette. I know it from the top down, except there’s nobody at the top just now. Who better to command it than the man who designed it?”
“Well, ahem,” Porter was dithering, as Billie knew very well he would. He even knew who it was Porter had in mind for the command. He would have picked the same officer, were he the chairman, to please the President and get rid of a pain in the ass. But Billie would demolish that officer in a few moments. “I can hardly spare you here, Jason—” Porter gestured vaguely.
“Sir, my deputy can take over as Director. She’s fully competent and more than ready for a three-star slot. I never stand in the way of competent subordinates, as you know. But let me point out something. Your sending Cazombi to Ravenette was a brilliant decision! He is just the man for a delaying action, even though we didn’t know at the time that this role would fall to him. But the situation on Ravenette was in turmoil when he was sent there. You needed a man with rank and experience on the scene in case the situation deteriorated—”
Porter nodded and grunted; he hadn’t thought of that explanation.
“Rumors have been flying around in high places, mostly inspired by the Marine Commandant, Aguinaldo, that Cazombi was sent there by you to settle a grudge you had against him.” He made a dismissive gesture, as if he, Billie, didn’t believe that was the reason, which he knew full well it was. “In fact, Cazombi is your Horatius at the Bridge, you might say, sir, holding off the hordes. But to win this war you need someone with far greater organizational ability and insigh
t. You need a Caesar. I am that Caesar, sir, you know it, so does everyone. Give me that command and you will have to your credit two brilliant decisions and victory in this war. You can point all this out when you nominate me for the job.”
Billie hated General Aguinaldo, the bluff, straight-talking Marine commandant. He had tried never to let this hatred show, always treating Aguinaldo with cool courtesy and deference at meetings, but their relationship had never been warmer than frosty because Aguinaldo saw through Billie as clearly as Cazombi did, and knew him for the sinuous schemer that he really was. Billie knew very well that Aguinaldo despised him and had supported Cazombi’s arguments for lifting the quarantine on 34th FIST, and he also knew about Cazombi’s long-standing friendliness toward the Marines, which he considered downright disloyalty to the army. Now Cazombi’s balls were in a vise and he had called for Marines, an insult to every self-respecting soldier. That had to be corrected and he, Jason Billie, was the man to restore order in the world of military affairs.
“Well—” Porter was impressed. So it was Aguinaldo who told the President about his falling out with Cazombi. And to think he had been going to propose that very same Aguinaldo for command of the army! So far he had only gotten icy stares from Chang-Sturdevant when the subject of Cazombi had come up but he’d not been asked outright to explain why he was on Ravenette to begin with. Now he had that explanation. A brilliant face-saver. Oh, he might have to embellish the facts a bit, not tell an outright lie to make the explanation go down smoothly, but every military man who had to deal with politicians knew how to do that as second nature. “Well, well.” Porter relaxed and sat back in his chair. “General,” he gestured at a side table, “would you join me in a bourbon?”
“Thank you, General, for coming to see me on such short notice,” Chang-Sturdevant said. “I am sending your name to the Congress to confirm your promotion to Full General,” Lieutenant General Billie permitted himself a slight nod at this information, “but I wanted to hear from you personally regarding your plan for conducting the war against the Secessionists. I don’t mean to interfere with your plans, General, you know far more about these things than I do, but I wanted this meeting because once you leave to command your army, we will not be able to have another session like this.”
They sat in Chang-Sturdevant’s private office, Billie, Admiral Porter, and Marcus Berentus, the Minister of War.
“Ma’am, I appreciate that and I am delighted we could have this meeting,” Billie responded. He spoke in well-modulated tones and was careful to show deference to Chang-Sturdevant whom he privately regarded as a stupid, meddling bitch.
“Uh, you’re calling this relief expedition ‘Operation MacArthur,’ General? That’s brilliant!” Chang-Sturdevant smiled and nodded at Berentus. “Who thought of that name?”
“Well, I did, ma’am,” Billie replied, his voice dripping with modesty he did not feel. “I thought, under the circumstances, you know, it would be appropriate,” he smiled. Things were off to a good start!
“Marcus,” Chang-Sturdevant turned to Berentus, “maybe we should introduce legislation to reinstate the rank of General of the Army, and give General Billie here a fifth star? Have you ever thought along those lines, gentlemen?” she asked Porter and Billie. There was a twinkle in her eye. She was joking, sparring with her military advisers.
“ ‘Grand Admiral’?” Porter laughed, trying out the title, shaking his head. He was rising to the joke.
“Ah, no, no, ma’am,” Billie rushed on, “but now that you bring it up . . .” he laughed, but he was not joking. Who better to be the next five-star general after Douglas MacArthur than Jason Billie—after he’d suppressed the rebellion, of course.
Chang-Sturdevant got back to business. “We are all concerned, General, about the amount of time it will take for you to gather and deploy your forces. Our troops on Ravenette have their backs to the sea and even the reinforcements we’re sending in will not do more than bolster General Cazombi’s position. By the way, I’ve also recommended him for promotion. You will both have one more star before you leave here and I’d appreciate it if you would be the one to inform General Cazombi of his promotion when you get to Ravenette.”
Billie smiled, careful not to show his real feelings at the news. “He is a valiant soldier, ma’am, and I will be honored to pin on his third star when I get to Fort Seymour. He was sent to Ravenette because it was a known hotspot that required a steady hand and Alistair has provided that hand. He will prove a great asset to me when I arrive there to take command.”
“But we must move with all deliberate speed, General. General Cazombi is faced with overwhelming forces and he could be wiped out at any time.”
“I appreciate that, Madam President,” Billie responded. He glanced sideways at Admiral Porter, who nodded that he should proceed. “Ma’am, it is my opinion, the opinion of us all on the staff, that General Lyons, who commands the Secessionist forces, is planning on a set-piece battle to take place in the vicinity of Ashburtonville. His plan is to draw us in to the relief of General Cazombi, whose army is being held hostage, and inflict enormous casualties on us in the hope that our will to pursue this war will weaken and we shall negotiate a peace favorable to the Secessionist Coalition’s goal of independence. It is not my place to get into politics, ma’am, but even I can see that popular opinion can shift on this war since the people we’re fighting are not the minions of an evil dictator but citizens of a democracy—our own people in fact. This is a civil war and it must be ended as quickly as possible. General Lyons wants a set-piece battle and I am going to give him that and I’m going to win it.”
Chang-Sturdevant glanced over at Marcus Berentus, who nodded his agreement with Billie’s assessment. “That makes sense,” she admitted, “long casualty lists and military disasters will definitely weaken the will of our side to continue the fight.” She paused. “Admiral Porter has shown me an outline of your plan, General, but tell me again how you plan to muster your troops and deploy them. I’m an old lady, General, and I need to have these military details explained to me.” She smiled.
Billie grinned affably. “Old age runs in my family too, ma’am,” he responded, and everyone laughed, but he knew very well that she understood perfectly what his plan was. She was just sizing him up. “Madam President, we all know that, in the end, soldiers pick up their weapons and attack their enemies but there is much that must happen before they get to that point. At least there is much that should take place if the battles are to be won.” Chang-Sturdevant nodded that he should continue. “I cannot commence a massive combat operation like this without first integrating all the elements of this army, which will consist of regulars and reserve-component forces. As you know, the reserve and guard units are made up of willing men and women but not all are ready, not as ready as the regular components. We must ensure that any deficiencies in equipment and materiel are corrected before the guard units are sent into battle, especially since they will compose about two-thirds of my total combat force. And we must be sure, too, that the regulars are ready, up to strength in both personnel and materiel.”
He called up a chart on the President’s vidscreen that gave a detailed breakout of the forces he proposed for his army. “I will command an army of three infantry corps of about sixty thousand men each. One corps I scraped together from various regular troops stationed within the core of Human Space. I did that, ma’am, in order to leave the far-flung garrisons intact. The other two corps will be made up of guardsmen and reservists culled from those worlds that have agreed to support the war and who have troops ready for deployment. Other worlds will contribute forces when they are ready and as required. We cannot organize an army of this size in the face of the enemy. And I emphasize that none of these units has ever fought together under a coordinated battle plan. My commanders must be aware of that plan as well as the capabilities of the other units involved. We will have time en route to Ravenette to work out command-and-control problems. But all
the bugs must be worked out before we arrive in orbit around Ravenette. That is why I am marshaling my forces on Arsenault, our training world. It is centrally located in Human Space, can accommodate an army of this size, and is a convenient jumping-off place for onward deployment. I must arrive at Ravenette with my army well organized, fully equipped, and all of my commanders fully cognizant of the role they will play in the battles to come.”
“I must also add, Madam President,” Admiral Porter spoke up for the first time, “that the same applies to the starships that will make up the fleet that will support General Billie’s command. Many of the starships and crews come from the naval militias of the worlds that have agreed to contribute men and materiel, very few of which have ever undertaken actual wartime maneuvers. He is going to Ravenette with a powerful but basically untested weapon of war.”
Chang-Sturdevant nodded. “Please continue, General.”
“Then there are the logistics of an operation this size. Even if every unit arrives on Arsenault with its full combat load and its personnel complements fully manned, we must arrange for resupply and reinforcement because the level of combat we will encounter on Ravenette will be intense and will consume men and materiel at a very high rate. And we must also acknowledge that the enemy can reinforce his army on Ravenette over well protected and relatively short distances while everything we need will have to go with us or come to us over the vast reaches of space.”
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