Clinton closed the report and then with an incredulous look on his face he looked up at Scott. “I would have called you a mad man had I not already spoke with Professor O’Sullivan himself, earlier in the day,” said the general.
“I would have thought the same thing too, sir, had I not seen them with my own eyes,” replied Scott.
Clinton got to his feet, walked over to a side table, and poured two glasses of whiskey. Handing one to Scott, he raised his glass. “To the Union,” toasted Clinton.
“To the Union,” Scott said as he raised his glass.
Scott hadn’t been completely honest in his report. He decided for Sarik and his son’s sake that he would not mention their family connection to the Grail. Scott was not positive that the report would remain as confidential as General Clinton believed it would. If The Order was a worldwide organization, then they could have people in the current administration, another reason to keep Sarik out of it, thought Scott to himself.
Taking a deep swig, Clinton looked over at Scott. “What are the O’Sullivans doing today?”
“I believe they are having lunch with the President, and after that I am taking them to my uncle’s estate, where they will remain as my guests until the war is over,” said Scott.
“Speaking of the President,” said Clinton. Placing his drink down, he walked over to his desk. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a rank tab and then handed it to Scott.
Looking down, Scott was surprised to see a silver eagle embroidered on the tab.
Clinton smiled and offered his hand. “By order of the President of the United States, you have been promoted to full colonel.”
Scott stood there speechless, looking down at the eagle. He had started the war with no ambition whatsoever and was now a colonel in the U.S. Army.
“I know a good tailor not far from here,” said Clinton. “She’ll sew on your new rank in minutes.”
“Yes, thank you, sir,” said Scott, placing his rank tab away in a pocket for now.
“Colonel Scott, the war is almost over, but if your report is one tenth accurate, then we have enemies out there that hide in the shadows and are not bound by the normal rules of war,” said Clinton, looking out the window at the White House.
“Sir, these people are fanatics. There will be no reasoning with them.”
Clinton let out a deep sigh, as if the weight of his office seemed to grow heavier.
“I suppose, Colonel, you would like to know what is next for you?” said Clinton, turning to face Scott once again.
Scott cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, I am curious to say the least. Will I be returning to regular duties with General Sherman?”
Clinton smiled. “Half the battle of being a leader is finding good men and then surrounding yourself with them.”
Scott’s shoulders slumped. The last thing he wanted was a desk job in Washington, not while men still fought and died for the ideals he strongly believed in.
Clinton saw the look of disappointment in Scott’s eyes.
“You needn’t worry, Colonel, you don’t win the derby by keeping the stallion in the stable. Tell me Colonel, what do you know about the war in Mexico?” asked Clinton.
“Mexico,” repeated Scott.
“Yes, Colonel, Mexico.”
-END-
The Devil's Path (An Alexander Scott Novel Book 1) Page 31