Chapter 18

Sophie found the job of being President, with all its frustrations, eminently more enjoyable than the act of campaigning for the office, and the campaign for her second term was even less enjoyable than that for her first term.

Her chief rival this time around was, as expected, Marcus Orlov, former professor of history, and the leader of the scavs that had tortured and killed at least two Phoenicians, and had led the southern faction in her last military action. Her advisors told her that she could justify talking about his role as a scav leader, since, technically, he had been the leader of a foreign power and had thus held a public office.

Sophie, however, declined to take that route and forbade her campaign from even mentioning it. She needn't have worried. Orlov brought it up himself.

"How many of you were at the Citadel?" he asked in one speech. "How many were here at the founding of Phoenicia? Not very many, I guarantee. The fact is, the vast majority of today's Phoenicians were once enemies of Phoenicia. Most of you, not long ago, were called 'scavs' and 'barbs' by the founders of Phoenicia, so I ask you: How can such people understand what you need? How can people who have never been scavs or barbs understand the needs of those of us who lived on the other side? What you need in the president's office, is someone who understands you! Someone who has, himself, been a scav. Someone like Orlov!"

The applause was thunderous, and for a moment, Sophie wondered just how far these people had come from their origins. No, she had to believe in their training. Maybe what they needed was a little more detailed reminder of where they had come from - and where they had gotten to.

"It's true that most of you were once non-Phoenician. Since Mr. Orlov has brought it up, I'd like for you to cast your minds and memories back to that time. Remember what it was like. Remember how you lived. Most of you, here in the South, have already had a taste of this man's leadership. Do you want more? I don't have to have lived your lives to know what you need. All I need to do that is to listen to you, as I listen to all of my constituents. Now that you've remembered where you came from, look around you. See how you live now and compare it with how you lived then, and remember how you got here. Phoenicia has the military power to crush resistance from any of the scav states that ever existed, but instead of using that power for conquest, she has, throughout her short history, offered sanctuary and a better way of life to any would take it. Yes, we have been, and continue to be, harsh on those who chose to take arms against us, but none of you was forced to become Phoenicians. Now that you are, you are free to choose the kind of leader you want. I will not tell you what kind of leader you need, because, unlike my opponent, I think you are capable of making up your own minds. Many of you know me from my period as military governor of this territory, and all of you know what kind of leader I've been during my first term. Let that, and your consciences be your guide, but whatever you do, for the sake of yourselves and your families, keep your eyes on the future. Compare the records of each of the candidates from the past, then see if you can predict what kind of future each would bring you. Whatever you might once have been, you are Phoenicians now and the fate of this fledgling nation is in your hands."

The applause started slowly and took on a rhythm that swelled and grew until the ground shook with the chants of "Sophie! Sophie! Sophie!..."

A quick glance at the murderous expression on Orlov's face made her wonder if Linda's warnings weren't to be taken more seriously.

The election was much closer than Sophie would have liked, but she won a second term, despite having to work around some outright lies from her opponent. She seriously considered calling him on it immediately, since it was a clear violation of election law. To avoid the appearance of using the power of her office to force a victory in her favor, however, she neither complained to election officials nor challenged him to fight while the election was on.

The day after the results were announced, however, she stormed into Linda's office. "Find Orlov and tell him to pick the time and place. I'm going to kick his ass and then have him publicly flogged!"

"Are you sure that's wise?" Linda asked.

"Maybe not," Sophie replied, "but I let him get away with those lies until the election was over, now it's time to pay the piper. If I were not the incumbent, I would have called him out weeks ago. Just find him and tell him!"

Linda knew her too well to argue.

The next morning, Sophie asked, a bit more calmly than the previous day, "So when does Orlov want to fight?"

"I don't know," Linda replied, "no one's seen hide nor hair of him since the results were announced."

"Well, let me know when they find him."

"There's something else you should know," Linda told her. "A lot of his former people have gone missing, too, along with their weapons and survival gear."

"Crap! That's all I need. Get me General Lee on the phone, and to save time, better get General Carson, too."

Sophie had no sooner closed the door to her office than the phone rang. When she picked it up, Linda said, "I've got Generals Lee and Carson, and Ramon's on line two."

"All right, ask Ramon to hold, and I'll talk to him after I've talked..."

"I think you'd all better hear what he has to say, Sophie. I'm conferencing him in."

"What... ?" Sophie didn't get to finish her question. Ramon's voice came over the line, more upset than she'd ever known him to be.

"They've got Armando!" he blurted. "The bastards shot Ruth and took Armando!"

"Who?" Sophie asked, adrenalin suddenly pumping through her system worse than on her first mission.

"I don't know, but I can guess," Ramon replied.

"So can I," Sophie replied tightly, her heart in her throat, "and I can guess why. How's Ruth?"

"Dr. Mondale's with her. She was still breathing when I got to her, but she's lost a lot of blood."

"All right, 'Mon, gear up, then bring my gear to my office, okay? As of now we're both on active duty. General Lee, General Carson, you heard?"

"Yes, Madame President," Lee answered. "Is this what you called about?"

"I suspect it's related. Orlov and some of his former henchmen dropped out of sight with their weapons and survival gear right after the election results were announced."

"Excuse me while I get on the other line, Madame President," General Carson said.

Normally, Sophie would have been miffed at the interruption, but she knew what he was doing. They had discussed situations like this shortly after her discussion with Linda about Orlov.

"They'll be coming here next," Sophie said. "Probably already on the wa..."

She stopped as there was click and the line went dead.

"Linda!"

Somewhere a siren sounded loudly enough to be heard throughout the government building, then went dead. No sense deafening people who depended on their ears as early warning systems.

Linda was already wearing a gear harness and carrying another as well as two assault rifles when she came into Sophie's office.

"Word's gone down the line," she said as Sophie quickly buckled the harness on and checked the rifle- four fully loaded barrels and the four-into-one sight that Sillyvale had recently developed that made it as accurate as any pre-Sickness sniper rifle, regardless of which barrel was in use. "Kyle and a couple of staffers are watching the corridor. We don't think they could have gotten to the roof, but we're not taking any chances."

Gunfire erupted from the ground floor of the two-story building as security personnel and office workers below tried to take on the intruders, and Sophie glided toward the door to the hallway from her office, knowing that if Orlov had Armando, nobody would be firing at him.

"Keep an eye on the windows." she told Linda as she pulled on a comm set. "Marker One to Eagle do you read?"

"Copy Marker One. We will be on site in two."

"Roger Eagle, we'll try to save some for you."

The headsets used by government staffers for such emergencies deliberately used different encryption than those of the regular military. Sophie's could be switched between the staff coding and a special coding used by an L9 unit stationed nearby.

The firing on the first floor had ceased and Sophie cracked open the door, lay down on the floor and peered cautiously out into the hallway, through the sights of her weapon as it extended in firing position before her. Her office was situated at one end of a long hallway with a stairway near the middle. She could see other armed staffers peeking out from doorways down the hall.

"Everybody get your fingers off your triggers!" Orlov's familiar rasping voice said from the stairway. "Anybody shoots and the First Brat gets it!"

"Come on up where I can see you, coward," Sophie croaked through a suddenly dry throat.

Orlov edged out into the hallway carrying a small figure in one arm and a pistol in the other, pressed against Armando's temple, followed slowly by more of his people. Sophie didn't move but her heart pounded in her chest as she saw Armando's bruised face. The bastard had hit him! Rage and panic threatened to overwhelm her judgment, but in the midst of the red haze that began to cloud her vision, she suddenly saw the face of her father, wearing that oh, so familiar mask of calm with which he seemed to greet every crisis.

With a tremendous effort, she suppressed her own emotions and concentrated on the problem at hand.

"You are a dead man, Orlov," she said quietly, still keeping him framed in the sights of her weapon. "No matter what else happens here today, you will be dead before the sun sets."

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice heavy with scorn, "Just how do you propose to do that? I've got your precious baby here. You can't shoot me without shooting him!"

Sophie shook with the effort to control herself, causing the sight picture to waver.

"How are you doing Armando? Did he hurt you?"

"Not much, Mommy," her son answered, trying to be brave. "I've been hurt more in fighting class."

Sophie studied the situation. She had to get Armando out of the picture somehow, but how could she do it when he was being used as a shield?

"What do you want, Orlov?" she asked, to buy time.

"What do I want?" Orlov snorted in derision. "Why only this precious country of yours. I want you to abdicate and leave behind a signed document swearing that you rigged the election and that I'm the rightful winner!"

"And if I do?"

"Eagle in position," she heard through her headset.

"Roger, hold until my signal," Sophie replied under her breath.

"Why, I'll give you safe passage to the border of Phoenicia, but if you ever take up arms against Phoenicia again, I'll have you shot!" Orlov laughed at the irony of his little joke.

There was no way Sophie was going to give in to him, but what else could she do? All she could see of his face was one eye that showed above Armando's shoulder. The rest of her son's body covered any vital targets on Orlov's torso. Sure, she could wing him, or shoot him in the leg, but that wouldn't keep him from pulling the trigger. She could shoot the gun from his hand, but the shock from her bullet might cause it to fire.

No, what she needed was a head-shot. Orlov's brain would be dead before it could give the command to his finger, if she could get it in the right place. She surveyed the others in the hallway doors. Some were in better position than her to take the shot, but she didn't know what kind of marksmen they were. She remembered her father's haunted visage as he talked about the decision he had once had to make in defense of the Citadel. No, she could not place a burden like that on anyone else's conscience. If the shot was taken, it had to be her who took it.

"All right, Orlov," she said, putting as much of her rage and frustration as she could into her voice, while trying her best to steady her rifle's sights. "Just let me talk to my son for a moment, then I'll write the lies you want. No one will believe them, anyway!"

"Won't matter!" Orlov barked. "After they see how easily you caved in, they'll never want you back!"

"Armando, honey," she said, ignoring her enemy for the moment. "You remember the stories Uncle Jamaal told you about the Citadel? Remember what Grandpa had to do?"

"I remember, Mommy," Armando replied.

"Well, honey, Mommy's got to make a tough choice too, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"You know that Mommy loves you, don't you sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"I hope you'll be able to forgive me, baby." The last was said under her breath as she fought to calm her body and steady her sights.

Sophie took a deep breath, then let part of it out and held it, waiting for the lighted reticle to steady. The range wasn't all that long, but the stakes...

No! Just think of the target!

Before her thoughts could wander again, she increased the pressure on the trigger infinitesimally. A single round left the barrel of her rifle, and Sophie felt like it took an eternity to reach its target. Armando...

No! Baby! Don't move!

Too late! Armando kicked backward, connecting with his captor's genitals just as the bullet struck. As they fell, Sophie was through the door and rushing down the hallway amid a hailstorm of fire and lead as every other gun in the hallway spat death, Orlov's men fighting for their lives as the office workers, many trained to L5 or above, did their best to cut down the intruders. When she reached them, Armando lay in a pool of blood and Orlov lay stunned behind him, a crease from her bullet down the side of his head.

Sophie tore the handgun from his hand and and gave him a vicious kick to the head, to make sure he stayed out, before kneeling to cradle Armando's bleeding body.

"Eagle, mop 'em up and get a doctor in here," Sophie's voice caught in her throat, "I-I've shot my son!"

It should have been a minor wound, right through the muscle at the top of Armando's shoulder and into Orlov's hateful visage, but Armando had taken matters into his own hands and when he kicked, his body raised up too high!

Suddenly Linda was there, pulling bandages from a pouch on her harness and stuffing them into the wound in ... Sophie's side!

Sophie stared in wonder. How had that happened? Never mind, it wasn't important.

"Armando! Take care of my baby!" she cried.

"Got it covered," Kyle was there too, and was feeling around the wound on her son's shoulder.

"Lucky!" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "Smashed his collarbone, but doesn't look like it did any serious damage. Listen to your Uncle Kyle, buddy: When Mommy's shooting the bad guy who's holding you, don't move! Okay?"