“I’ll get it done,” Henneman said.
Peter addressed the group: “We don’t know how long we’ll have to hold them off, people. It might be minutes, it might be hours, it might be all night. They might not attack at all, just wait us out. But if the dracs get in, the orphanage is our fallback position. We protect the children. Is that clear?”
Silent nods passed around the table.
“Then we’re adjourned. I’ll want everybody back here at fifteen hundred. Gunnar, stay behind a minute. I need a word.”
They waited as the room emptied. Apgar, elbows resting on the table, eyed Peter over his meshed fingers. “So?”
Peter rose and stepped to the window. The square was quiet, with no one about, everything becalmed in the summer heat. Where was everybody? Probably hiding in their houses, Peter thought, afraid to come out.
“Fanning will have to be dealt with,” he said. “This will never end otherwise.”
“This would be the part of the conversation when you tell me you’re going to New York.”
Peter turned around. “I’ll need a small contingent—say, two dozen men. We can use the portables as far north as Texarkana, maybe a little farther before we run out of fuel. On foot, we should reach New York by winter.”
“That’s suicide.”
“I’ve done it before.”
Apgar looked at him pointedly. “And you were fucking lucky, if you’ll excuse my saying so. Never mind that you’re thirty years older and New York is two thousand miles away. According to Donadio, it’s crawling with dracs.”
“I’ll take Alicia with me. She knows the territory, and the virals won’t attack her.”
“After last night’s performance? Be serious.”
“The city won’t stand unless we kill him. Sooner or later, that gate will fail.”
“I don’t disagree. But taking on Fanning with two dozen soldiers doesn’t seem like much of a plan to me.”
“What do you suggest? That we hand Amy over?”
“You should know me better than that. On top of which, once we give her to Donadio, we’ve got nothing. No cards to play.”
“So what, then?”
“Well, have you given any more thought to Fisher’s boat?”
Peter was speechless.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Apgar continued. “I don’t trust the man any farther than I can throw him, and I’m glad you tossed his ass out of here. I don’t tolerate division in the ranks, and he was way out of line. Also, I have no idea if that thing will even float.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing.”
Apgar let a moment pass. “Mr. President. Peter. I’m your military adviser. I’m also your friend. I know you, how you think. It’s served you well, but the situation is different. If it were up to me I’d say sure, go down swinging. The gesture might be symbolic, but symbolism matters to old warhorses like us. I hate these things, and I always have. But by any measure, this isn’t going to end well. Like it or not, you’re the last president of the Texas Republic. That pretty much leaves you in charge of the fate of the human race. Maybe Fisher’s full of shit. You know the man, so that’s your call. But seven hundred is better than nothing.”
“This place will come apart. There’s no way we’ll be able to mount a coherent defense.”
“No, probably we won’t.”
Peter turned back to the window. It really was awfully damn quiet out there. He had the unsettled sense of observing the city from some distant future time: buildings empty and abandoned, dead leaves rolling in the streets, every surface being slowly reclaimed by wind and dust and years—the permanent silence of lives stopped, all the voices gone.
“Not that I’m objecting,” he said, “but is this first-name thing going to be a habit?”
“When I need it, yeah.”