Read Online Forty-Eight X by Barry Pollack - Free Book Online Page A

right thing to do. That I knew. And I had to put a stop to that.”
    “And so what was the final score?” the general asked. It was a rhetorical question. He had the answer. “Five dead grunts, ten wounded; a dozen dead A-rabs; and one jailed notorious colonel.”
    McGraw knew he was bordering on being a wiseass but had one more thing to say. “Sir, it rained that night, too. It hadn’t rained in Baghdad in two months. The rain bogged down convoys in the mud and made a few of them easy targets. I’ll take the blame for that, too, if it helps us get any closer to victory.”
    “I believe”—the general took a moment to level his thoughts—“that you have been royally screwed. Having said that, I want you to know that there is absolutely nothing I can do to alter your sentence. But I can alter how you spend your time serving it, and I’m hoping that you are still a soldier willing to serve his country.”
    “You ought not have any doubts about that, sir.”
    The general was convinced that McGraw had the military chops to do the job. He wanted to be sure the man had the character, as well.
    “How do you fill your time?” he asked.
    “I read.”
    “Anything in particular?”
    “I used to like humor—Woody Allen, Steve Martin. Now it’s mysteries and historical novels. Anything that makes me think.”
    “Playboy? Penthouse?”
the general smiled slyly.
    “No, sir. They don’t allow porn. But if you can get it to me, I’ll read it. I still have a libido and a good hand. I may die here, but I’m not dead yet.”
    Where was all this going? Link wondered.
    “It wouldn’t have taken much lying on your part to lay this business off on the enemy.”
    “It would have been a lie nevertheless,” McGraw quickly replied and smiled. “It would have ruined my perfect record.”
    “Are you religious?”
    From porn to religion—what did the general have in mind?
    “I believe in God but not religion. I’ve seen too many men die in the name of it to believe in any organized religion. And you, sir?” McGraw parried back. It was time to have a two-way conversation.
    “I fake Southern Baptist,” the general responded frankly. “To honor my mother. But I believe in God. I believe he gave us more potential than we’ve yet lived up to.”
    The general sat forward, quiet, intense, his fist supporting his head like Rodin’s
The Thinker
. And Link sat there quietly, as well—but just for a moment before he opened up a little more. He hadn’t held an intelligent conversation with anyone for nearly a year and wasn’t about to let the time pass in silence. He had things worth saying.
    “I do believe in reincarnation.”
    “Oh?” the general replied, sitting more upright, interested. “I’m disappointed.”
    “Why?” McGraw parried back, hoping he hadn’t gone one word too far.
    “Too George Patton. Old Blood and Guts had the same beliefs. Excuse me for being a skeptic, but everyone I’ve ever met or read about who believed in reincarnation was once someone famous—Napoleon, Caesar, Genghis Khan. Nobody was ever a garbage man.”
    “I don’t know about that. Maybe all men don’t get reincarnated. Or, maybe a former life collecting garbage is just full of memories, and odors, worth suppressing. I just know who I was.”
    “So, who were you?” Mack asked.
    McGraw pulled off a medallion he wore around his neck. He handed it to the general, who studied it carefully. It was an ancient coin with a raised image that looked like a Roman emperor.
    “Who’s this? Caesar?”
    “No. That’s me. Ptolemy, one of Alexander the Great’s generals.”
    “But not one of his slaves. See, nobody is ever reincarnated as a nobody.”
    “That may be true. But,” Link began to make his point, “why would I imagine being reincarnated as a subordinate of Alexander the Great? Why not just imagine being Alexander the Great?”
    “Lack of imagination, maybe.”
    “No, it was just who I was.”
    The general looked over