A Time for Patriots

“I’ll put together a proposal and send it up to the leadership in Congress,” Ann said. “Of course, they’ll tweak it to make it sound like their idea.”

“Fine with me.”

“Speaking of Reno and reopening the airspace: Director Fuller passed on an interesting tidbit of information to me,” Ann said with a sly smile. “There was an airspace violation east of Reno the morning after the attack.”

“There was ?” the president asked incredulously. “Does he think it was connected to the attack in Reno?”

“No, although they are still investigating,” Ann said. “But guess who was involved?” Phoenix shook his head — he knew Ann Page hated guessing games, and now that she was indulging in one with him, it got his attention. “Patrick McLanahan.”

“ Patrick? You’re kidding ! What in hell happened?”

“Apparently our friend is a pilot in the Civil Air Patrol out of Battle Mountain, Nevada, and he was involved in a search for a missing plane when the attack in Reno occurred,” Ann explained. “Patrick’s son is also a member, and he was actually part of the ground team that found the missing plane and rescued a passenger. It was all over the national news this morning.”

“Unbelievable! Good for little Bradley — although I’ll bet he’s not so little anymore. But how did Patrick violate the airspace?”

“The owner of the land where the rescue took place flew the survivor to the hospital, and afterward they were cruising around the local area close to the military air base out there.”

“That doesn’t sound like something Patrick would do.”

“It wasn’t. The pilot of the helicopter is a big-time mucky-muck rancher that I guess owns half of Nevada.”

“Doesn’t matter. Homeland Security and maybe even the Justice Department should put the fear of God into that guy.”

“Fuller said they tried, but the rancher has more friends in high places than Billy Graham,” Ann said. “He said even Attorney General Caffery got a call. Fuller said that because they were involved in a Civil Air Patrol rescue, everyone decided to back off, but they’re continuing their investigation deep in the background.”

Phoenix nodded, then shook his head in amusement. “I thought Patrick would just retire and take it easy out there,” he said. “I should have known he’d be doing something

, keeping his hand in the flying game. He’ll never change.”

“I could sure use him here in Washington, sir,” Ann said. “He’s the only guy still advocating for the Space Defense Force, and there’s that rumor of a bill before Congress to ramp up defense spending again.”

“Do that,” the president said. “If he’s working for living expenses only out in Nevada, I’m sure he’d be willing to do the same in Washington. Besides, Battle Mountain is closing next year, if I’m not mistaken — they’re moving everything to Fallon Naval Air Station.”

“Is that… situation of his still an issue?” Ann asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, and it’ll probably stay like that until President Truznyev of Russia is out of office,” the president said. Patrick McLanahan was the head of a secret nongovernmental military operation that had attacked Russian commando and space operation forces in Africa and the Middle East, and since then the Central Intelligence Agency and Federal Bureau of Investigation counterespionage units had intercepted hit squads, supposedly sent by Truznyev, that were intent on assassinating him. “CIA and FBI still say they can spot a hit squad easier if he’s isolated rather than in Washington.”

“Maybe so, but I’d like him back in Washington,” the president said. “We can protect him. I just wish we could pay him what he’s worth, but there’s just no money in the budget.”

“I’ll find a place for him, sir,” Ann said. “He’ll probably want to stay until Bradley graduates from high school, so next summer.”

“Put him to work in the meantime. I want a ten-year plan for space forces and long-range strike ready by the time this economy turns around, and he’s the guy I want to work on them.”

“Will do.” She looked at the president, studying him carefully, then said, “I admire you for sticking to this severe austerity plan, Mr. President. But to be totally honest with you, sir, it looks like the pressure is grinding on you. Are you sleeping at all?”

“A few hours a night is all I’ve ever needed, ever since my years in the Corps,” Phoenix said.

“Try not to let the pressure get to you, sir,” Ann said. “The programs you put in place are working. Unemployment is still high, but it’s going down. There’s talk that Moody’s will restore the U.S.’s triple-A credit rating soon, and the balance-of-trade numbers look very good.”