A state of disobedience

Washington, DC

"Do you suppose the bitch is really dead, Caroline? God I hope so."

The general felt a small quiver of disgust, not an emotion she had ever before associated with Wilhelmina Rottemeyer. She answered, coldly, "I don't know. No one knows."

Willi looked at her number one military advisor suspiciously. "What's your problem?"

"I can't go on with this, Madame President," McCreavy said with reluctance.

"With what?" demanded Rottemeyer. "It's almost over. A few more days, a week at most, and all of Texas will be back under control. Another few days and New Mexico will be broken, too."

"You don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what? I understand that they've abandoned their capital, that their troops are pulling back. That Houston is being brought back under control."

McCreavy sighed. "Nothing is under control. The hostages you made of the Marines' families? I just found out this morning. They've been freed. Apparently the Marines who took the base back kept up appearances for a bit while they worked out some details. Now you can expect the Marines there by El Paso to join the Texans. And word has gotten out. The Second Marine Division has sent emissaries to the Texan forces facing them and declared a truce. Those two Marine brigades at sea in the Gulf of Mexico? Same deal. And the 18^th Airborne Corps has said to hell with you too."

"I'll have them all shot!"

Again, McCreavy sighed. "Then you'll have to give the orders yourself, Willi. I'm through." With that McCreavy reached into a jacket pocket and removed a letter which she presented to Rottemeyer. "That's my resignation."

Before going on, McCreavy forced away the beginnings of a sob. When she continued, it was to say, "And I'll be moving out today, Willi. All my things will be gone by this afternoon."

Rottemeyer's eyes opened wide in shock and horror. "Caroline, you can't be serious. You can't leave me."

Tenderly, for she still felt some tenderness toward her President and now former lover, McCreavy reached out a hand to stroke a face. "I must, Willi."