A Mighty Fortress by Harold A. Covington

Author:Harold A. Covington
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781420859003
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2005-07-14T23:00:00+00:00

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A Mighty Fortress

VI.

“Everyone in the new Republic is free to worship as they please. They are not free

to commit treason and then hide behind religion to escape the consequences.”

- Gen. Frank Barrow

Morehouse held up his hand for silence in the room. “Quiet, everyone! Did

Regenthal say why?” he demanded.

“Uh, Mom, did Jesse say why he wanted Cody?” asked Nightshade into the phone.

“Uh, okay.” She grabbed up a felt-tipped pen from the table and wrote a number

on her hand. “Okay, I’ll get him to call. Right now? Mom, it’s three o’clock in the

morning! Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll have Cody call him. Yeah, I know, there’s no summer

school tomorrow, I heard on TV. Cody will bring me home once it’s daylight out and

the TV says it’s safe and there’s no more crazy Nazis shooting up the streets. Yes,

Mom, I know. Don’t worry, we’ll be praying for peace too, and we won’t be doing any

sins of the flesh, I promise. Okay, see you soon. Praise the Lord.” She hung up.

“Did Regenthal give any indication of what’s going on?” repeated Morehouse.

“No, but he left a cell number and he says it’s urgent that Cody call him right away,

no matter what time it is,” said Nightshade. She handed him the phone. “Here, Cody,

use mine in case he’s got some kind of caller ID. He’ll be expecting you to call from my

number.”

“Everybody keep it down in here,” ordered Morehouse. “Go ahead, Volunteer

Brock.” Emily held up her hand and Cody dialed the number on it. Morehouse and

Nightshade both leaned over close to listen. Regenthal’s voice answered, deep and

hearty. “Praise Jesus!” he boomed. “Is this Miss Pastras?”

“So he is using caller ID,” muttered Dortmunder.

“Uh, hello, Brother Jesse,” said Cody, going into Beaver Cleaver mode,

modulating his voice to seem a bit younger than he was as best he could do so. “It’s

me, Cody Brock from Sunday school. Emily’s mother told her you wanted me to call

you.”

“Sure did, young man! We’re worried about you and Emily down at the church,

Cody,” said Regenthal. “You know there’s been a lot of trouble going on tonight, and

she wasn’t sure where her daughter was, or you.”

“Yeah, well, things got kind of hairy last night, sir,” said Cody. “I was going to take

Emily roller-skating, but then the President came on TV. We watched her in the snack

bar at the roller rink, and that kind of messed up the evening. Then I got a call from

the hospital and they told me my dad got shot at work by some of those damned, oh,

sorry for cussing, Lord, I mean, by some of those blasted Nazis. A nurse patched my

Dad up in the emergency room, but there were all kinds of guys with guns running

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H. A. Covington

around, right in the ER and out on the street, and we ended up taking him over to Mr.

Simpson’s house, because it was closer. He’s gonna be all right, but I didn’t want to

take Emily home until it got daylight and the police were able to chase the Nazis away.

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