Casing the Colors © Week 28

DEAR READERS, There will be no blog posting on Sunday evening. The blog will return on Monday evening. Have a good weekend. • • • Casing the Colors © Week 28 • • • CHAPTER 46 • • Four hours later, in time for the luncheon the Moroccan king had arranged, the American-Russian group were again settled in the Rabat palace. When Scott Bennett phoned General Gordon from his headquarters in Houston, he had bad news. The situation in the United States was worsening. "We'll begin evacuating the border areas later today," he told Jim Gordon. "Northern California can be saved. Army and Marine units are being positioned along the northern borders of Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The level of civilian casualties is simply too great to continue to attempt to hold the southwest. We've declared a civilian emergency and shelters are ready in Oklahoma, Colorado and Louisiana for evacuees." "Raqqa knows that Miguel is dead," Scott added. "Damned if I know how, but he has gone public about it, offering a million dollar bounty for either Stu Wellford or me as compensation." When General Gordon recounted the story to the group in Morocco, the king was quick to say that the Arab states had not provided the blood money. "I can speak for Egypt and Syria, as well," he added. "In fact, Hassan Fayoum and Saadi al-Hafiz left yesterday evening on a round of diplomatic visits to try to bring other Arab leaders into the Alliance." General Gordon nodded. "We still have a huge job ahead of us in the United States and it won't get better until President Wellford gives the order to fire on Mexicans moving north while they're still in Mexico. It's the only way to halt the mass exodus into the southwest." General Julien smiled paternalistically. "Your President will have to change his mind when the refugee pressure becomes too great. He hasn't had sufficient experience to understand that democracies need popular support to survive." "General Julien, the President understands only too well, but he also wants to prevent full scale rebellion in the large cities in the southwest. Most of the refugees entering the United States have relatives already living in El Paso or Tijuana or Los Angeles," General Gordon replied. "I hope he gives some thought to the rest of his constituency," Maurice Julien said, "before General Bennett steals them away." Alexei Katerinov put down his wine glass. "General Julien, I would have thought that your support for the Alliance would be more energetic. It may be our last chance to save the world as we know it." "I am sorry if I seem lest than enthusiastic, President Katerinov, but surely I am not the only person who has thought about General Bennett as a political rival for Stuart Wellford. He is in the classic position for a military takeover in the name of national survival. Let us be practical, as well as idealistic." "Enjoy your little joke at our expense," Kate Gordon said, "but don't wish away America so quickly. It would leave Europe, including France, rather exposed." "Neither I nor Monsieur le President would wish away America," Maurice answered. "I am just an old soldier watching a struggle I have seen many times. As have you, General Gordon. And you, Alexei. You were the civilian equivalent of Scott Bennett when you were elected president of Russia, taking advantage of the de-stabilizing effect of change to consolidate power in yourself." "Gentlemen," the king, interrupted, "At my table, we are all friends. Please do not offend my hospitality," he smiled, nodding to a waiter to take away the service and bring towels. "I apologize," General Gordon said, "but there is no time for endless discussion. I need to leave for Washington immediately after lunch. Alexei, will you please take Kate to Moscow with you. I want her to be kept out of the mess that will certainly develop in the next week in the United States. If there is a price on the heads of Scott Bennett and Stu Wellford, she might also be a target for Raqqa." "Of course," Alexei smiled, "and it will be a pleasure to introduce Moscow to my wife. What else can I do?" "Use your contacts to find out exactly where Raqqa is and I'll do the rest. General Julien may be wrong about Scott's motives, but he is dead right about the mood of America. They could defect from American Agenda overnight." Maurice sighed and sat back in his chair, justified. "Katharine, will you walk with me?" he asked. "I will try to rehabilitate myself while your father and Alexei finish their discussion." "Dad, don't leave before I say good-bye," Kate said, following Maurice into the garden. "Promise." Maurice walked away from the pavilion into the sheltering gardens stretching to the high beige walls several hundred yards in the distance. Tranquilly humid in the midst of the dry heat, the gardens imitated a small oasis, with date palms, fruit trees and flowering plants clustered in lush areas that defined the paths winding through them. In less than a minute's walk, they were screened from the pavilion and could neither hear nor see the men around its table. "My dear," Maurice began, angling his shoulder toward Kate as he strolled beside her, "I must speak quickly because we have little time for our usual banter. I am very concerned for your safety. I wonder if you can possibly imagine how completely you have placed yourself in jeopardy." "Maurice, if you mean that going to Russia with Alexei is dangerous, of course I know how serious it is. But, I couldn't love him and wait in safety somewhere else while he fights for his country's future." "That is simply pious romanticism jumbled up your Anglo-Saxon sense of destiny and duty. Don't be so foolish. Russia will go on with, or more probably without, Alexei Katerinov. It won't miss a step in the process of burying him beside its other lost causes. Don't allow yourself to be buried with him." "Your cynicism can be maddening, Maurice," she exploded. "Don't you believe in anything?" "I believe in saving the people I love," he answered quietly, stopping to touch a beautiful deep blue flower resting on glistening greenery. "It is written that roses are the soul of Allah in the gardens of the faithful. But, I prefer the serenity of these blue blossoms," he said, carefully extracting one from the cluster. "Maurice, you know I can't just simply return to the United States. What would you like me to do?" "Come to my chateau. Wait there with me. Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to survive what is coming." "Come with you? That is preposterous." "Katharine, I lost the only other woman I have ever loved because I let circumstances overwhelm me. I am not going to sit passively by again. I am too old and too wise to let you simply slip away." He offered her the blue flower. She took it and stepped backward, away from his reach. "You cannot be surprised that I love you, and sometimes when you look at me, I feel sure that you love me." "Please don't go on, Maurice," she pleaded. "I don't have the strength either to resist you or to love you. Let me go to Alexei. He believes enough for both of us. You would only make me doubt everything. It would destroy me." "Why do you need to be sure?" he pressed. "Can't we separate our lives from what is happening and be happy now. Perhaps there will even be something left for us to enjoy afterward." "That path isn't me, Maurice. I must do what I can." "You haven't said that you do not love me, Katharine." "Of course I love you, you dear silly fool. I love your perverseness and arrogance. I love your aloof pleasure in being alive. But, I need Alexei. I need his commitment and his strength. I need his conviction. I need to love him and I am going to Moscow with him, whatever the future. I am not afraid to die with him." "That is what I fear. You have mingled your father's courage and Scott's bravado with you own destiny. Don't you understand that you would die for nothing. Russia doesn't need your blood, my darling child." "Alexei needs me. That's enough." Maurice encircled her wrist with his slender fingers and touched the blue flower in her hand to his lips. Then he brushed her cheek with its petals. "As long as it stands, my chateau will offer you protection. My staff will always welcome you, whether I am there or not. Do not be too proud to use me if you have need." His selfless words wrenched from her all the pain of the past hours. She turned away and began to cry. His arms quickly cradled her. "Katharine, don't suffer so terribly. The world is not worth your tears. Come with me and let me comfort you." "We killed Dave Browning and Carlos Miguel this morning," she sobbed. "My father was the judge. Two Marines fired the bullets." "Mon dieu," he sighed, "and they didn't even have enough sense to keep you away from it." "They tried, but I insisted," she whispered through her choked gasps. "I had no idea what was going to happen." Maurice held her close for a moment and then kissed her eyelids and dabbed at her cheeks with his handkerchief. He took her hand and started toward the pavilion. When they appeared, her father realized what had happened and held out a chair for her. He gave her a glass of wine. "Drink this, Kate. You've had a rough day." "At least you have got that right," Maurice shot at the General, pouring himself a glass of wine and downing it in one long swallow. "I tried to talk some reason into your wife, Katerinov," he said, "but she is determined to follow you to Moscow. Promise me that when the time comes to save her, you will send her to me." Alexei held Maurice by his shoulders and nodded. "I will not forget. Thank you." "Hey," General Gordon said, breaking the tension, "I've got a plane to catch. Who's going to walk me to the gate?" The king went with Kate and her father as far as needed to offer his assurance of cooperation and wishes for success. Then he discreetly turned back to leave them alone beside the helicopter. "Dad, I don't understand how Raqqa could know about Miguel and Dave. Not even George Morrison knew. There must be another leak we don't know about." "You're right, Kate, but we have enough evidence to be sure that George was involved, too. If there's another leak, we'll find him. Count on it." "Are you safe in Washington?" she asked. "Don't worry, Honey, not about me or the United States," General Gordon said. "Things will sort themselves out. Remember, you are a Gordon. Give Alexei the support he needs to go on fighting. That was always something I could count on from your mother, a little space in the middle of the hells I've been forced to live in, where I could pretend for a few hours that there would never be another mortar round fired. Alexei needs that, too. Think of your mother and be there for him. Don't ever forget that she would be very proud of you." He gave her one of his glancing kisses and a quick hug. She smiled, remembering Scott telling her once that he wasn't as hard-edged as he seemed but was simply hidden behind the emotion-proof screen he had built to protect himself from the feelings that would have destroyed his ability as a soldier. "Dad, let the young guys fight this war. You've done more than your share. Try to survive -- for me." "I'll do my best, Kate, but you know me. You and I, we're not so different in wanting to be where we're needed." As he was about to disappear into the helicopter, he turned and shouted above the blade noise. "Keep your powder dry, soldier, and remember the old man loves you." She stood watching until the helicopter vanished and then she turned back to find Alexei. He was waiting a few yards along the path. "He'll be all right, Darling. He wants to protect you, but he won't be in personal danger." "Let's leave as soon as we can," she said. "I don't want to struggle with Maurice again." "The plane is ready. I'll phone the pilots to file a flight plan. We will sleep in Moscow tonight."