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Chapter 33

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The Homeland Security convoy laagered overnight in Ashland at the insistence of Colonel Ray Moore. His Virginia National Guard battalion garrisoned the town on behalf of Governor Allaine, and Major Vargas was not about to argue too strenuously about the invitation, not in the presence of armor that could make short work of his MRAPs.

Besides, if he had wanted the Homies dead, Moore could have destroyed them at a distance with tank fire and there would have been nothing Vargas could have done about it. No, someone had to extend some trust, and Special Envoy Tyler had made it clear that that someone was going to be Vargas.

I knew he’d start to meddle sooner or later. I should have killed him on the way and got it over with. Vargas started to sweat, despite the cooling afternoon breeze. He felt nervous, shaky, and suddenly wondered whether one of the Plagues had gotten to him despite the inoculations.

“I insist on coming along with you, sir,” he’d boldly declared to Tyler. Now Vargas wondered what his recklessness had gotten him into. He hadn’t stayed alive and moved up taking stupid risks, but now...well, the man did have the ear of the President. A distinguished action now might set his career on a meteoric path. Hell, they’d offered that puta Marine a commission, though the dumb bitch had turned it down.

So he’d volunteered to come along, commanding the one vehicle they had let drive into Richmond – after a thorough search. They’d allowed the crew to keep their personal weapons but had dismounted the minigun, and the infantry squad had to be left behind.

Just a driver, an RTO, the Envoy and himself.

A Humvee led them and a clanking Bradley followed behind, its chain gun aimed point-blank at the rear of the MRAP. Apparently trust only went one direction right now. Vargas looked around again, wondering if the Richmonders were going to double-cross them on the way or when they got to their destination. That gun’s a message, clear as day, they intend to kill us. Kill me. Yeah, that’s it. They’ll blow my head off because they know I have the full combat nano, and leave Tyler to get the glory. Bastards. Tyler must have already contacted them somehow, talked them into it. Vargas wiped his burning brow. His hand came away bloody but he failed to notice.

The roads were clear, at least the ones they used. Vargas saw people working, using heavy equipment to clear wreckage and salvage vehicles. He could see vapors from distant smokestacks, so some kind of industry throve. He also saw plenty of burned-out buildings, and once a derailed train sprawled, a giant child’s mad jumble of toys. Still, civilian trucks and cars moved cautiously about, more and more as they passed through checkpoints toward the heart of the city. And every one of the people looked at him with secret smiles.

Tyler wedged himself up through the hatch, then climbed up to ride on the top of the moving truck. Vargas could swear the Envoy was enjoying himself, the wind of movement whipping through his crew-cut hair. Just trying to tempt me...he’ll heal up from a fall. And if he didn’t...what kind of reward would the President give to the man who saved the mission by negotiating a settlement with Richmond after such a tragedy? One little push...but it will have to be certain.

Vargas eyed the treads of the twenty-five ton Bradley rumbling behind them, and he itched to reach out, snap the man’s neck, then toss him under. It would be easy, with his full combat nanites.

He was thankful no one had ever forced the Eden Plague on him, so nothing would mess with his head. In fact, he felt his mind was clearer than ever.