“But then you—”
Colt laid his hands on his aide’s shoulders and turned him toward the office door. “Don’t worry about me. Get to the mine. Get a vehicle. Take the sergeant and his eyewitness testimony.”
“Y-yes, sir.” Colt shoved him through the door and pivoted to Marcus.
“This is a vital mission, Lieutenant, which is why I can only trust it to you.”
Marcus stiffened, his lips flattening into a line, and crossed his arms. “I know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. You should be the one taking thereport to the president. Don’t be so stubborn.” He shifted position, propping a fist on his hip, poking a finger into Colt’s chest. “If what you say is true, and we’re being invaded by a massive army, it’s bigger than a spat between father and son.”
“You know I can’t abandon my post,” Colt answered. “If worse comes to worst, I’ll lead an orderly evacuation, but, right now, I don’t think they know we’re here.”
“You just think that because your father killed my father, you’re somehow responsible for me.” Marcus glared at him, his tone offended.
“I’m your commanding officer,” Colt answered, swallowing the lump in his throat, struggling to keep his voice steady. “That makes me responsible for you—you and the kid. He’s a good kid, not like most of this bunch. And, for the record, your father was no traitor. He was a great man, and he loved you very much.”
Marcus broke his stare, glancing down at the requisition letter and ring in his hands. “I always thought your father was a great man. And then …” Marcus looked up again, squared his shoulders, his voice turning official. “I’ll take the witness, the report, to Dominion, and I’ll make them listen.”
Colt nodded. As Marcus moved, he reached out and pulled him into an awkward embrace, wondering if he’d ever see Maddox’s son again. “Be safe. Tell my wife and mother that I love them.”
“You’ll tell them yourself,” Marcus said, blinking back a tear.
Colt released him.
“Slater!” the lieutenant called as he hurried out. “Let’s go.”
From the command building’s porch, Colt watched them leave a fort in turmoil. Spotting a reliable face, he called, “Sergeant Castellano!”
Big Tony stopped and veered over to Colt, his face blanched with fear. “Is it true?”
“Yes. Now, here’s what I need you to do.” Draping an arm around the stable master’s shoulders, he walked with him, explaining his contingency plan, hoping they’d all still be alive tomorrow.
Chapter forty
Priority One
Dominion, the next morning
Jace Irons trailed two steps behind his father toward Command Hall for the morning situation meeting. Luther glanced at a gilded mirror mounted between a founder’s portrait and a patriotic bronze wall hanging, brushing his perfect pompadour for good measure. When had he become so vain? After weeks in daily contact with Luther—privy to things he said and did behind the curtain—Jace had begun counting the ways President Irons differed from the father he remembered. His mother seemed sad and constantly on edge. His father was practically a stranger. Still, he’d never shown as much pride and confidence in Jace. Not ever.
Several top advisors stood outside the windowless meeting room, talking in hushed tones. A skinny man Jace hadn’t met before approached with his hat in his hands, chin lowered. He looked like a lost scarecrow with a long nose and slicked-back, thinning black hair.
“Mr. President,” he said, braving a smile.
“Pickett.” Irons halted to acknowledge him. “Jace, this is Franklin Pickett, the resource procurement guy who smartened up and left Verdancia behind.” He looked at Pickett the way a hungry cat eyed a mouse. “You could have sharedwith us how stubborn your former countrymen are. I thought you were heading to Colorado, or some such place out west.”
“Yes, sir,” Pickett said. “My train leaves in about an hour. I just wanted to stop by before I left to thank you one last time and wish you the best. You kept your word and gave me the promised reward. Feel free to look me up in Pueblo if you need information again.”
Luther raised his chin, satisfaction and calculation on his face. “Count on it.”
“Mr. President, sir!”
A young man in an officer’s uniform rushed forward, waving, with two enlisted men in his wake. Two guards with batons at the ready stepped between them and the president.
“Christ, what now?” Luther muttered so only Jace could hear. “Yesterday, it was robots. Robots? Can you believe it?”
“Incredible, but I doubt General Roundtree would make up such a thing,” Jace said.
His dad grimaced and rolled his eyes. Turning to the interrupting soldiers, he blinked, his mouth falling slack. “Hey, aren’t you Maddox’s kid?”