ReUNION: What if the Civil War had never happened? by Harvey Ardman

Author:Harvey Ardman [Ardman, Harvey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Wang pointed to the pink and orange box. “Any glazed left?”

Callaway gave him a guilty look. “I just ate the last one. I think there’s a chocolate covered, though.”

Wang opened the box and took inventory. He found the chocolate-covered donut and began nibbling. “You saw the polls, I assume?”

“Yeah,” the President said. “Not much comfort there.”

“Bourque’s little speech might help,” Wang said.

“Yes. Let’s hope it translates. Make any headway with Sylvia Pinchick?”

“She’s on our side, Charl—Mr. President. But she says she’s helpless. The board had a fight and Anthony Zolli won. The others, they’re either scared of him or they agree with him. Hard to tell which.”

Callaway sighed and nodded. “But Bourque’s okay?”

“According to Pickett, he’s full of beans and ready to ride.”

“You’re starting to sound like him.”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s contagious. Anyhow, he and Pickett are meeting us at the conference room at 10.” He took another bite of donut. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Sugar is the bane of my existence,” Callaway observed. He studied the box of donuts, then turned away from it. “And the Vice Presidents—how are they doing?”

“Like two peas in a pod.”

“Stop that.”

“I was quoting Veronica. They’re going golfing today.”

“Veronica too?”

Wang laughed. “No. She’s working on the arrangements and the schedules.”

Callaway was momentarily confused. “The arrangements and the schedules?”

“Yes, you know—the cultural and sports exchanges.”

“Oh that’s right.”

“She showed me a draft last night,” Wang said. “She’s doing a great job.”

“The golfing was her idea?”

“She’s acting in loco parentis.”

“Any word from Garcia yet?”

“Not a peep.”

Callaway became thoughtful. “I wonder how he’s going to talk his way out of this one.”

“If I remember the procedure in events like this, I believe we shall soon see an innocent lamb offered up for ritual sacrifice. I’m betting it will be bloody, although he might fake that too.”

“Think he’s going to leave the CSA alone now?” Callaway asked.

“El Presidente? Cut his losses? Curb his ambitions? You’re talking about Miguel Garcia, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re right of course,” Callaway admitted. “What do you think he’s going to try next?”

“God knows. But we better be ready for it. I’ll have a conversation with Linus Hawke.”

*

They met in the conference room, said their hellos and took their seats, the same as yesterday’s.

“You’re looking well this morning,” Callaway said to Bourque.

“Mr. President, those beds you got over there are soft as rabbit fur,” Bourque said. “I slept like a hibernatin’ bear.”

“And you had a good breakfast, I hope?”

Bourque patted his considerable belly. “Et about half a hog and a hen-house full o’eggs, all of it cooked to a turn, thank you very much.

“You’re very welcome,” said Eric Wang.

“So,” said President Callaway. “Where were we?”

Their gazes converged on Pickett, who nervously consulted his notes. “President Bourque had just asked me to tell you what we want,” he said.

“Best note-taker there is,” Bourque said, pleased.

Callaway was finished with the small talk. “And what do you want?” He asked.

Pickett shot a look at Wang, hoping for help.

“Well, we’ve already provided a task force to cover your Atlantic Coast,”

Wang said.

“A grand

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