The War Cloud

21

Colonel Kozlowski studied Sachs as she lay on the fold-out surgical table in the Nightwatch plane’s medical center. Her eyes were closed beneath the high-intensity lights, an IV attached to her arm. Her black hair was brushed back from her face, her shoes removed and the belt around her skirt loosened.

The young medic had finished stitching a gash on her shoulder and was studying her with awe. Her bloody blouse was gone, and he gazed at the size C cups of her bra rising and falling as she breathed. He let out a low whistle. “Hail to the Chief.”

“It’s president-designate, Lieutenant Nordquist,” said Koz, feigning indifference. “Nothing official until I know she’s fit for office. Is she fit?”

“She’s in better shape than those Green Berets on that Black Hawk, that’s for sure.” Nordquist started tapping up a chart for her on his tablet computer. “What the hell was that all about, anyway?”

That’s what Koz wanted to know. What kind of remarkable woman could survive that kind of battle? Or cause it?

“You tell me,” said Sachs, opening her eyes.

They were soft and brown, Koz noticed, but her voice was dry and cracked. It was probably the cabin air. He wondered how much she had heard. “Dehydration, ma’am.”

“There’s got to be a better explanation for their behavior than a lack of Gatorade.”

A sense of dry wit too, thought Koz.

“No, ma’am. You’re the one dehydrated. We’ll give the IV another 20 minutes and take you off when we’re at cruising altitude.”

She started. “You mean we’re in the air?”

“Thirty thousand feet,” said Koz. “Welcome aboard the presidential Advanced Airborne Command Post.”

“Then I want to see the president,” she demanded, and Koz didn’t know if she seriously didn’t understand the situation or was testing him.

He paused. “Why?”

“Because those soldiers sent to pick me up tried to kill me,” she said.

Koz blinked. “The Army Green Berets?”

She nodded. “Who sent them?”

“Uh, I did.” He saw her eyes widen. “But I can assure you that I did not give Colonel Kyle orders to harm you or anyone else. He must have gone rogue.”

She looked at him with a glint of paranoia. “Don’t insult me with a lone gunman theory. Because he had a dozen others with him, all wearing the uniform of this country.”

Koz exchanged a glance with Nordquist. “Physically, she checks outs,” the medic said with a shrug. “Mentally, who knows? She’s pretty shaken up.”

“I’m fine,” she said flatly. “Where’s Special Agent Raghav?”

“Didn’t make it, ma’am.”

Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head. “He was brave.” Then her head snapped up again. “Jennifer,” she said with a start, and swung her badly bruised and cut legs over the side of the table. “I want to talk to my daughter right now.”

She tried to stand up, but a wave of dizziness seemed to pass over her and she started to sway.

Koz put a hand on her shoulder and braced her. “Easy now. I’m sure she’s been taken care of.”

“Like your Green Berets tried to take care of me?” she shot back.

“We’ll find her, ma’am, I promise, and make sure she’s safe.”

“You do that, Colonel,” she said, then noticed she had nothing but a bra on above her waist. She folded her arms over her chest, wincing as her shoulder flexed. “May I have my blouse back?”

“Try this.” Koz opened a locker closet and pulled out an Air Force bomber jacket. He draped it over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said with a shiver.

A beeping sounded in the medical compartment. Sachs jolted, turning to see if it was one of her medical monitors. But Koz walked over to the intercom on the wall and punched a button. “What is it?”

Captain Li’s voice squawked over the speaker: “Sir, we have NCA commanders on screen for the attack conference.”

“I’ll be right there,” he replied, and turned to leave.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Sachs demanded. “I don’t think so.” She took two steps and was restrained by her IV feeds like a dog on its leash. “I demand you take me to see the president, Colonel Kozlowski, even if it’s in the mirror.”

Kozlowski looked back at her without answering her implicit claim, although he felt a pang of guilt mixed with uncertainty. “I think it’s best that you’re confined to these quarters pending a thorough medical review.”

“Are you serious, Colonel?” Her tired, brown eyes seemed to search his face and heart for something Koz felt was no longer there.

Koz gave a cool nod to Nordquist, who was already preparing a syringe. “We want to avoid any panic until our forces are in place.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sachs shouted as Koz put his hand on the door.

“Trust me, it’s for your own good,” he said, and walked out.

An alarmed Captain Li was waiting for him in the hallway as the door slid shut behind him like a coffin on a protesting Sachs and syringe-wielding Nordquist.

“Where is she?” Li asked as he brushed past her toward the battle staff compartment. “What’s going on in there?”

He said, “She’s recuperating.”

Li was on his heels like a terrier. “Recuperating? Hello? Are we back in the USSR or what?”

“Can it,” he said as he marched into the next compartment.

Li would not let up, nor would he expect her to. “She is our only legal president, and our respect for a higher authority, in this case the Constitution, is the only thing that separates us from the boys in Beijing.”

Koz nodded as they entered the battle staff compartment. “Let me feel out the others on the conference call.”

“You’re talking about a coup, sir.”

Koz caught a few stray glances from the young crew as they passed by. A little louder, Li, he thought.

“She’s delirious, Captain,” he told her, waiting until they had entered the empty briefing room. “She accused me of trying to kill her. How much credibility is she going to have with her commanders if she starts making wild charges like that? You really want her in charge?”

“What I want and what is right are often two different things, sir.”

“Let me put this another way, Captain.” He turned to face her, square on. “America has just suffered its worst blow in history. We’re on the brink of universal Armageddon. As president, Deborah Sachs is not some civilian politician but our commander-in-chief. Would you follow this woman into battle?”

Her answer was firm and unwavering. “Yes, I would.”

Koz studied Li’s stoic, determined face. “Well, I’m not so sure.”

Li simply stood there, not giving in.

Koz took a breath. “OK,” he told her. “While I speak to the NCA, I want you to check DOD records and see if this guy Kyle has a history with anybody who could have given orders to kill Sachs. But discreetly.”

“Yes, sir.”

He could see the approval in her face.

“And while you’re at it,” Koz said, “check out the last communications between the White House and Pentagon. Check anything unusual that happened in the city within the past two or three days. Everything should have been backed up at remote DOD mainframes before the blast.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?”

“Find Jennifer Sachs,” Koz said as he sat down at the head of an empty conference table and looked up at the big screen on the wall, wondering how exactly he was going to explain Deborah Sachs.