Sin Eaters by Thomas A. Watson

Author:Thomas A. Watson [Watson, Thomas A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

No, I’m Reaper

Sitting at the end of the conference table, Fern looked down the length to see the Army, Navy, and Air Force commanders. There were a few aides for each person at the table, three cabinet members and of course, his Texas Rangers. Of all the meetings he did, it was the military briefings he hated the most.

He wasn’t a general or a soldier. What he knew of combat had been told to him. The fact his decisions would result in the deaths of soldiers made him sick. No matter if an attack went perfectly, Republic troops and civilians would die.

“Mr. President, are you okay?” Admiral Wagner asked.

Rubbing his belly, “Indigestion,” Fern answered. “So, you were saying about the mothball fleet?”

As Wagner went over how they were dealing with the mothball fleet, Fern dug in his pocket until he felt the roll of Tums. Acting like he was hanging on every word Wagner spoke, Fern tossed two tabs in his mouth. Nobody but he and Wagner knew about Kraken, and that’s the way it was going to stay. What Wagner was putting out now was window dressing to explain why shit was blowing up.

Just like the fact he was meeting in an Op/Con house to the north of Dallas. In truth, his security used them because they were bunkers and set up to be command centers. Briefings always took place in the basement where the briefing room was. It was the torture chambers down the hall behind him that made Fern sick. After making sure they were cut off from the NSA, his security had set up several around Texas for him to use.

Several in his cabinet were shocked when Fern handed over the blueprints for the Op/Con centers. He knew about Nancy of course, but when Reynolds came to tell him she had made contact, Fern told him to keep that secret and take it to his grave because he didn’t want to know her identity.

Hearing “Do I have your permission to proceed?” from Wagner, Fern looked up nodding.

“Yes,” he nodded, and Wagner pulled all the maps and charts from the table back to his spot. He left the remote for the monitor in the center of the table as Fern cleared his throat, “So, General Reynolds, what are they doing on the other side of the Mississippi?”

Getting up and spreading out a map, Reynolds grabbed the remote and clicked it until he got to his slides. “Waiting on our move, and they aren’t happy about losing that armor,” Reynolds said. “In Southern Mississippi, where most of the Indonesian and Islamic troops are, we are getting reports of horrendous reprisals to the civilian population. It seems the Muslims troops are mad that the Sin Eaters killed nearly half a million of their citizens on those cruise liners.”

Feeling his stomach turning sour, Fern hit his chest with his fist and gave a burp. Turning to one of his protection detail, “Can I get some milk?” he asked. Normally,

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