Read Online A Covenant with Death: The Peacock Trilogy - Book 3 by Bill Wetterman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bill Wetterman
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insurrection before we can make any decisions.”
“Civil War,” Pendleton mumbled. “It’s a bloody Civil War. Yes. I want to hear what the situation is to date. But then I want a battle plan and a damn good one.”
Connor pointed at her father and snipped, “That’s exactly what we’re doing, developing a battle plan. So don’t interrupt me. The fate of both my mother and this planet depends on logic and facts. Neither of which you are operating with right now. And don’t assign my team missions without talking to me first.”
Pendleton’s face raged hot, but Van Meer touched his arm.
“She’s right you know,” he said. “This is why we have a continual testing program in place. Rely on your own educational system. Don’t try to do all the jobs.”
“Now, Director Cline, give us all the news, the good and the bad.” Connor plopped down, turned toward her father, and glared.
Pendleton bit his lower lip, as Cline rose. Snippy as she could be, Connor never talked to him the way she had today. Van Meer seemed to agree with her. He must be losing his perspective. Lovey taught him breathing exercises, as a calming technique. He inhaled. He much preferred the old days. Rule by edict. People were too bloody stubborn to fend for themselves.
“The good news is that our offensive and defensive capabilities remain fully operative.” Holding a micro-mini computer in his hand, Cline paced in front of one of the images being displayed on the screens in the room. Age had matured the once brash Cline. His self-assurance still registered in the 99 th percentile, as did his intelligence quotient. “We can strike anywhere on the globe with precision. The bad news is…so can Ammad.”
“Explain that,” Pendleton said. “How in the hell can Ammad strike anywhere in the world?”
“While we prepared for space exploration by building those enormous ships your son will command, a group under Ammad was adding missiles, launchers, and support equipment to the shuttles that supplied our space stations from Muslim Complexes. His people brought weapons in a little at a time.”
“And we didn’t pick that up?”
“Space Complexes 8, 9, and 10 are manned with 70 percent Muslim workers. Of the thirty-plus livable orbiters, the enemy secretly infiltrated 3.”
“First Citizen,” George interjected. “May I speak?”
“By all means.” Pendleton softened his tone, “Make some sense out of all this mess.”
“The incoming cargo shuttles are massive. Those complexes are heavily manned by Muslim crews. Your misplaced trust in Ammad and his access to such sophisticated weaponry became a deadly combination.” George sighed. “That being said, the sooner we correct the problem, and neutralize the threat, the better.”
“Recommendation, Thad?” Pendleton asked.
“Destroy Space Complexes 8, 9, and 10, and fire upon the enemies spaced-based missile launchers, before he fires upon ours.”
Connor interrupted. “Have you analyzed their offensive and defensive capabilities?”
“Not knowing what kind and how many armaments he has, it’s impossible to do, Director Abu. But each day we delay, the odds increase he will be ahead of us.”
“May I suggest we contact Ammad,” Connor said, “pick the neutral site, and after we have destroyed his capabilities, accept his surrender?”
“Shades of you in your prime, Ole Boy.” Van Meer slapped Pendleton’s knee. “This will be a good test of our defenses, both in space and on the ground.”
“You agree with her?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you, Thad?”
“You have no choice.”
“But the bastard has my Lovey!” Pendleton yelled.
“Dad,” George chimed in. “That’s a separate issue.”
“We avoid a ground war, if possible.” Connor stood and joined Cline in front of the monitors. “We’ve practiced scenarios like this many times.”
“All right.” Pendleton slammed his hand on the table. “Tell me how we can find and rescue your mother,
“Civil War,” Pendleton mumbled. “It’s a bloody Civil War. Yes. I want to hear what the situation is to date. But then I want a battle plan and a damn good one.”
Connor pointed at her father and snipped, “That’s exactly what we’re doing, developing a battle plan. So don’t interrupt me. The fate of both my mother and this planet depends on logic and facts. Neither of which you are operating with right now. And don’t assign my team missions without talking to me first.”
Pendleton’s face raged hot, but Van Meer touched his arm.
“She’s right you know,” he said. “This is why we have a continual testing program in place. Rely on your own educational system. Don’t try to do all the jobs.”
“Now, Director Cline, give us all the news, the good and the bad.” Connor plopped down, turned toward her father, and glared.
Pendleton bit his lower lip, as Cline rose. Snippy as she could be, Connor never talked to him the way she had today. Van Meer seemed to agree with her. He must be losing his perspective. Lovey taught him breathing exercises, as a calming technique. He inhaled. He much preferred the old days. Rule by edict. People were too bloody stubborn to fend for themselves.
“The good news is that our offensive and defensive capabilities remain fully operative.” Holding a micro-mini computer in his hand, Cline paced in front of one of the images being displayed on the screens in the room. Age had matured the once brash Cline. His self-assurance still registered in the 99 th percentile, as did his intelligence quotient. “We can strike anywhere on the globe with precision. The bad news is…so can Ammad.”
“Explain that,” Pendleton said. “How in the hell can Ammad strike anywhere in the world?”
“While we prepared for space exploration by building those enormous ships your son will command, a group under Ammad was adding missiles, launchers, and support equipment to the shuttles that supplied our space stations from Muslim Complexes. His people brought weapons in a little at a time.”
“And we didn’t pick that up?”
“Space Complexes 8, 9, and 10 are manned with 70 percent Muslim workers. Of the thirty-plus livable orbiters, the enemy secretly infiltrated 3.”
“First Citizen,” George interjected. “May I speak?”
“By all means.” Pendleton softened his tone, “Make some sense out of all this mess.”
“The incoming cargo shuttles are massive. Those complexes are heavily manned by Muslim crews. Your misplaced trust in Ammad and his access to such sophisticated weaponry became a deadly combination.” George sighed. “That being said, the sooner we correct the problem, and neutralize the threat, the better.”
“Recommendation, Thad?” Pendleton asked.
“Destroy Space Complexes 8, 9, and 10, and fire upon the enemies spaced-based missile launchers, before he fires upon ours.”
Connor interrupted. “Have you analyzed their offensive and defensive capabilities?”
“Not knowing what kind and how many armaments he has, it’s impossible to do, Director Abu. But each day we delay, the odds increase he will be ahead of us.”
“May I suggest we contact Ammad,” Connor said, “pick the neutral site, and after we have destroyed his capabilities, accept his surrender?”
“Shades of you in your prime, Ole Boy.” Van Meer slapped Pendleton’s knee. “This will be a good test of our defenses, both in space and on the ground.”
“You agree with her?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you, Thad?”
“You have no choice.”
“But the bastard has my Lovey!” Pendleton yelled.
“Dad,” George chimed in. “That’s a separate issue.”
“We avoid a ground war, if possible.” Connor stood and joined Cline in front of the monitors. “We’ve practiced scenarios like this many times.”
“All right.” Pendleton slammed his hand on the table. “Tell me how we can find and rescue your mother,
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