A state of disobedience

Washington, DC

"Willi? Willi, wake up. We've got a problem, a bad one."

Rottemeyer sat up instantly, unconsciously brushing McCreavy's hand from her shoulder. "What is it, Caroline?"

"First Marine Division—well, the two thirds of it that is in Texas anyway—has mutinied. They've arrested their political officers and I have unconfirmed reports that they have sent parlementaires to the Texans."

"Oh, my God. What's this going to do to us? And what's a 'parlementaire'?"

"A parlementaire is someone sent to negotiate with the enemy. I think the Texans are either going to gain the better part of 1^st Marine Division or, as a minimum, the Marines are going to bow out and release the Texans that are facing them to facing somewhere else . . . like against the rest of our force."

Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, Rottemeyer exhaled forcefully. "Why?"

"I don't know. There're nothing but rumors. But it might be because of the way the Surgeon General's police freed up the supply lines to the Marines that ran through Las Cruces. They were pretty heavy-handed, Willi."

"Well they had to be," the President retorted. "The Marines themselves needed that highway opened."

"Yes, the Marines needed the roads opened. And maybe the SGRCP did have to play rough," McCreavy admitted. "But the effect has not been good. Willi, I am worried about 2^nd Marine Division now. And even the Army . . ."

"Yes?"

"There was an armored cavalry regiment with the 1^st Marine Division. They mutinied, too. I don't know who you can trust anymore."

Tossing away the bedclothes, Rottemeyer arose to throw on a bathrobe. "Get me my cabinet."

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