Dallas Run

Chapter Five

“Why Blade?” Plato demanded. “Why not simply send in one of your own men?”

“We could send in a squad of our own,” President Toland said. “In fact, Lieutenant Garber has volunteered to venture into Dallas. But we want someone with extensive combat experience to go in, someone with a proven track record, someone who’s a professional, not an amateur.

Garber is a competent soldier, but he doesn’t possess a fraction of the expertise Blade does.”

“Surely you must have other officers with extensive experience who would go,’” Plato observed.

“A few,” President Toland replied. “But they don’t hold the special position Blade does. The Freedom Force was created to deal with extraordinary threats to the safety of the Federation, and there’s no doubt that the situation in Dallas qualifies. Blade is the head of the Force, and this falls under his jurisdiction.” He gazed at the giant Warrior. “I know you requested time off to be with your loved ones, but this is an emergency. We must determine the nature of the illness responsible for the green splotches as quickly as possible. If a new plague is spreading among the residents of Texas, our medical specialists must devise an antidote before the disease can infect the Civilized Zone and the other Federation factions.”

“Has Private Nelson developed any of the splotches?” Plato asked.

“Not yet,” President Toland said. “He’s been placed in quarantine and is under twenty-four-hour observation. So far he hasn’t displayed any peculiar symptoms.”

“So far,” Plato repeated. “But there’s no guarantee Nelson hasn’t already contracted the disease. And there’s no guarantee Blade won’t contract the green splotches if he goes to Dallas.”

“There are no guarantees whatsoever,” President Toland agreed. “We need to learn more about the disease, which is why we want to send a team in. It’s imperative that we capture one of the infected inhabitants and subject that person to intense testing and study.” He looked at the head Warrior again. “How about it, Blade? You haven’t said a word one way or the other, and the final decision is yours to make. Will you go into Dallas or not?”

Blade stared at Toland and Reese, then pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the table. “This mission promises to be extremely hazardous for whoever accepts it.”

“I won’t deny that,” President Toland said.

“Fighting armed opponents is one thing, contending with a new disease quite another,” Blade said. “You need someone who can get in fast and get right out again with a prisoner, someone who is adept at penetrating enemy territory.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Toland said.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right,” Blade said. “This is a job for the Force.”

President Toland beamed. “I knew you’d agree with me.”

“But there’s one little problem,” Blade said. “The Force was temporarily disbanded six months ago and all the volunteers returned to their homes.

Reorganizing them on such short notice would take more time than we can afford.”

“You could lead Lieutenant Garber and a squad of our men into Dallas,” President Toland suggested. “With you in command, I know Garber would succeed.”

“I could,” Blade said.

“If you don’t mind,” Plato interjected, raising his voice, addressing Toland, Reese, and Laslo, “I’d like to speak with Blade alone. If Hickok and Geronimo would be so kind, they can take you to my cabin. Nadine will fix refreshments.”

“We don’t want to impose,” President Toland said.

“Nonsense,” Plato responded. “Nadine will be delighted to have the company. Blade and I will be along in ten or fifteen minutes.”

“As you wish,” Toland said, and rose.

Hickok and Geronimo also stood, and the gunfighter looked at Blade.

“Can we talk yet?”

“Of course,” the giant replied.

“If you’re aimin’ to go to Texas, I reckon I’ll tag along,” Hickok offered.

“This is a job for the Force,” Blade observed. “You’re a Warrior.”

“So are you, pard,” Hickok said. “I might not be a member of the Force, but our Family is a member of the Federation. If the Federation is threatened, then I have an obligation to help out.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” Blade said.

“Suit yourself,” Hickok replied, and headed for the doorway.

Blade watched them depart. He stretched and focused his attention on the man he respected most in the world. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You.”

“What about me?” Blade asked.

“You’re behaving oddly.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Plato studied the Warrior’s features. “I think you do. It’s not like you to be so reserved. And a minute ago you gave me the impression you were endeavoring to convince yourself that President Toland was correct, although there are legitimate arguments against his proposal. You simply reiterated the points he’d made.”

“He was right.”

“Was he?” Plato countered. “I wonder. Granted, you have more combat experience than most men, but Toland could use his own personnel to enter Dallas and capture one of those with the splotches. You’re not essential to such an operation, despite what the two of you said.”

Blade frowned and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m the head of the Freedom Force. It’s my job to go.”

“The Force has been disbanded.”

“I told the Federation leaders I would be available in an emergency, and this certainly is an emergency.”

Plato stroked his beard, his keen eyes narrowing. “Why do I have the feeling that you are resigned to go no matter how many objections I pose?”

“I’ve got to go, Plato,” Blade insisted.

“Send Yama or Rikki in your stead. Either one of them can accomplish the mission.”

“No.”

“It has to be you, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you view yourself as indispensable? Will the world fall apart if you’re not there to save the day?” Plato queried somberly.

“I don’t have a swelled head, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Blade responded.

Plato leaned toward the giant, concern etching his countenance. “Then why?”

The Warrior rose and began pacing back and forth behind his chair, his hands behind his back, his brow furrowed. “The last thing in the world I want to do right now is leave Jenny and Gabe to go on another mission, especially in my capacity as the head of the Freedom Force. Jenny resents the fact I joined the Force, and I know the news will break her heart.” He paused. “But like it or not, I am the head of the Force. I accepted the position, and I gave my word to the Federation leaders to do the best job I can. If I say no now, I’ll let them down. Worse I’ll let myself down. When a man gives his word, he should keep it.”

“Then you’re going out of a sense of guilt?”

“Partly, I suppose. I’ll feel guilty if I don’t go, but I’ll feel guilty if I do. If I don’t, and if they send someone else and the mission fails, I’ll blame myself. If I do, and Jenny becomes even more upset than she already is, I’ll blame myself. I’m caught in a bind, in a no-win situation. I feel like I’m being torn in half,” Blade admitted.

Plato did a double take, his eyes troubled. “I’ve never seen you this indecisive.”

“It’s like I’m running in circles and there’s no end in sight.”

“I see,” Plato said, and stared at the table.

“Do you have any advice I can use?”

Plato looked up. “I’d advise you to take an extended vacation after this mission is over. Spend a month with your family and limit your contact with others.”

“I’ve been trying that for the past six months.”

“Yes, but you’ve stayed here at the Home and attended to your daily duties as a Warrior. I want you to get away from it all. Take Jenny and Gabe to one of the lakes. Go fishing. Forget all about your problems.

Commune with the Spirit. Recharge your soul.”

Blade considered for a moment. “Jenny would be delighted. We could kick back and relax without interruptions.”

“Why don’t you go break the news to her?” Plato suggested. “The prospect of taking a vacation might alleviate her anger over the mission to Dallas.”

“You’re on,” Blade said with a smile, and hurried from the library.

Plato frowned and slowly stood. He walked from E Block with his head bowed so none of the other Family members could see the apprehension on his face. The sunlight made him squint, and he glanced up to behold Blade jogging to the east. There went the man he loved as the son he’d never had, the man he’d personally picked to become the top Warrior ten years ago. He’d taken such pride in Blade’s growth, in seeing Blade develop from an impetuous, temper-prone youth into a stable, resolute man, into a superb Warrior. And while all the Warriors were adept at their craft, Blade was the best of the best. Someday, Plato knew, legends would be related about the mightiest Warrior of all time.

Provided Blade lived long enough to provide the basis for those legends.

Plato ambled eastward, making for his cabin. He could still fondly recall the very first time he had really noticed the boy who would eventually figure so prominently in his life. Blade had been five years old at the time. Before then, Blade had simply been one of the many children laughing and playing about the compound. But one fine morning Blade’s father had introduced his son to Plato, and Plato remembered his astonishment at learning such a strapping boy was a mere five years of age. He had looked into the youth’s intelligent, frank eyes and marveled.

“So this is your pride and joy?” he had said to Blade’s father. “And he’s only five? Big for his age. I see he has his dad’s dark hair and abnormal gray eyes. There is character here. He will be a tribute to both his parents.”

And so their friendship had begun.

He recollected the anguish he had felt the day Blade’s father was killed by a mutate. Blade had been 20 at the time, and had taken the loss hard.

The Warrior’s mother had died while giving birth to him, and the loss of his father had filled his soul with sorrow.

Plato skirted a pine tree in his path, ruminating.

Blade’s father had been the Family leader, and his sudden demise had left a vacancy the Elders urgently needed to fill. Plato hadn’t been too surprised when they selected him. He’d known that Blade’s dad had favored him over all the other potential candidates. Once installed, Plato had returned the favor by nominating Blade to be the head Warrior.

Family Leaders were permitted to choose whoever they preferred as their chief of Home security.

So many years had elapsed since then.

So much had happened.

Plato would always be in Blade’s debt for rescuing Nadine from the savage Trolls. He’d given his beloved wife up for lost, and he still felt a thrill whenever he reminisced about the day he took her in his arms again after being separated from her for seven hellish years. Her return had seemed like a miracle, and he owed the greatest happiness of his life to the brooding giant he’d taken under his wing.

How ironic life could be.

And how cruel.

He remembered the epic struggle the Family had waged against the infamous, wicked Doktor and Samuel the Second, the men responsible for the death of Blade’s father. Only after the Family emerged victorious had Blade appeared to come to terms with the loss of his dad. Since then the Warrior had discharged his responsibilities superbly.

Until now.

Plato scowled, striving to suppress the anxiety he felt over Blade’s curious behavior. He perceived that the Warrior was severely distraught, more so than Blade had let on, perhaps more so than the Warrior himself realized. Something was eating at Blade deep down inside, and for Blade to travel to Dallas in such a distracted frame of mind would not bode well for the mission.

What could be the matter?

Certainly Jenny’s resentment was a contributing factor, and the hardships posed by holding the two jobs also influenced the Warrior’s attitude, but Plato believed there was more to the change in Blade’s disposition.

Worry gnawed at his mind.

The Warriors were trained to be decisive, to make snap judgments in the heat of combat, to remain calm and collected even when their lives were on the line. A moment’s indecision could prove fatal. And in Blade’s current condition, the Warrior was vulnerable.

If anything happened to—

“Hey, old-timer!”

Startled, Plato looked up, surprised to discover his cabin less than 40 feet away. Hickok and Geronimo were walking toward him.

“Where’s Blade?” the gunfighter asked.

“He went to talk to Jenny,” Plato answered.

“Darn. We wanted to bend the big galoot’s ear,” Hickok said, halting.

“He’s takin’ us to Dallas whether he likes the notion or not.”

Plato looked over the gunman’s left shoulder at the cabin. “Where are our guests?”

“With your missus,” Hickok replied. “She’s feedin’ them venison sandwiches and cookies. They’ll gain ten pounds before she’s done.”

“Did Blade change his mind about going to Texas?” Geronimo inquired.

“No,” Plato responded.

“Then let’s go find the dummy and persuade him to take us,” Hickok said to Geronimo.

“Nathan—” Plato began.

Hickok held up his right hand. “Oh, no you don’t!”

“What?”

“You’re not gettin’ away with it this time,” the gunfighter declared.

“What do you mean?” Plato asked, perplexed.

Hickok snorted. “Don’t play innocent with me, old-timer. You’re not talkin’ me out of it.”

“But—”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Hickok said, cutting Plato off. “You’ve pulled this stunt too many times in the past and I’m drawin’ the line right here and now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I suppose you don’t recollect the time Geronimo was missin’ and I wanted to go after him? I suppose you don’t recall talkin’ me out of going?”

“Yes, I remember that,” Plato said. “We had no idea where he was, and I requested that you wait a week in the hope he would return. Which he did.”

“That’s not my point. Who was it who tried to talk me out of going after Shane when he went off to fight the Trolls?”

“I did,” Plato admitted. “But you went anyway.”

“Don’t nitpick,” Hickok said.

“But I—”

“I’m not finished yet,” the gunman said. “Who was it who stopped me from stompin’ that Troll we captured into the dirt? You. I could go on and on, but you get my drift. You’re always talkin’ me out of this or that, but not now.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Plato said, and smiled.

“You can talk until you’re blue in the face,” Hickok said, “and it won’t do you a bit of good. Blade, Geronimo, and I are a unit. We’re Alpha Triad, and you know danged well we’ve worked together for years. Where Blade goes, we go.”

“As well you should.”

“So go ahead and waste your breath,” Hickok said. “See if it…” He abruptly stopped, his forehead creasing. “What did you say?”

“I agree with you wholeheartedly,” Plato informed him. “If the two of you want to go on the run with Blade, then by all means you should.”

“Is this a trick?”

Plato chuckled. “No. I believe the two of you should go with Blade. In fact, I will insist upon it.”

Hickok glanced at Geronimo. “Did I miss something here, pard?”

“The only thing you’re missing is a brain,” Geronimo replied, then looked at the Family Leader. “Why will you insist?”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Plato said.

“You name it, you’ve got it,” Hickok declared.

“If I can convince Blade to take you, I want the two of you to stay close to him on this run. Watch over him. Cover his back.”

“We always cover his back,” Hickok remarked. “We wouldn’t let anything happen to him. His missus would kill us.”

Plato placed his right hand on the gunfighter’s left shoulder. “Nathan, I’m serious. Please watch Blade closely.”

Surprised by the Leader’s sincerity, Hickok blinked a few times, then smiled. “Sure, old-timer. We’ll baby-sit the big lug for you. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Thank you,” Plato said, and headed for his cabin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to our visitors.”

Hickok scratched his head and watched Plato walk off. “Now what the blazes was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Geronimo responded, gazing thoughtfully at the Family Leader’s back.

“I swear that man is becoming goofier the older he gets.”

Geronimo glanced at his friend and grinned. “So what’s your excuse?”