Denver Run

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blade was dreaming. He was lying on his back in a soft, plush bed, his head propped on a comfortable white pillow. The bed was ornate, with four wooden posts at each corner and a blue canopy overhead. This fancy bed was unlike any the Family owned; theirs were plain and Spartan compared to this luxurious resting place. Yes, he knew he was dreaming, so he didn’t become alarmed when a brown-haired man with a kind face, but wearing a military uniform, entered his dream through a door situated beyond the foot of the bed. He wasn’t particularly concerned as this soldier walked around the bed and approached him. After all, what possible harm could a figment of his imagination do?

Consequently, the Warrior chief was flabbergasted when this apparition smiled at him, took hold of his right wrist, and spoke. “You’re awake!”

It wasn’t a dream!

He’d been captured by Samuel!

Blade came up off the bed in a rush, his right hand lashing out and clamping on the soldier’s throat.

“Help!” the man screamed. “Help!”

Blade applied more pressure on the soldier’s neck, striving to crush his windpipe before his cries brought the guards.

He wasn’t successful.

The bedroom door flew open and in ran Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, his katana in its scabbard clutched in his right hand.

Blade gawked, confused. Had Rikki come to rescue him?

“Blade! Release him!” Rikki came up to Blade and took hold of his right arm. “Let him go!” he urged.

Perplexed, Blade reluctantly relaxed his fingers.

The unfortunate soldier staggered backward, gasping for breath. “He… nearly… killed me!” he wheezed.

Blade suddenly realized his arms and legs were covered with cuts and gashes. Some of the larger wounds had been stitched up. His body was naked except for a skimpy pair of white shorts. “What’s going on?” he blurted. “Where am I?”

Rikki was grinning. “Congratulations. You almost throttled your doctor,” he said, unable to suppress a chuckle.

“My doctor?” Blade repeated, puzzled.

Rikki nodded at the puffing physician. “This is Dr. Edmonds. He’s the man who saved your life.”

Blade’s complete consternation was displayed on his face.

“You lost a lot of blood,” Rikki elaborated. “The cat slashed you forty-three times. You would have bled to death without a transfusion. General Reese offered the services of the best doctor in Denver.”

“I’m in Denver?” Blade asked. He couldn’t believe it. Maybe he was dreaming all of this.

“You are in Denver,” confirmed a deep voice from the doorway.

Blade looked at the speaker.

The newcomer was about six feet in height with a lean build. He wore a neatly pressed uniform with gold insignia on the shoulders. His hair was black, his eyes brown. His clean-shaven face reflected his inner sense of honesty, of trustworthiness. He smiled and extended his right hand as he walked up to the bed. “I’m pleased to meet you. I am General Reese.”

Blade absently shook hands.

“You’re probably wondering what you’re doing here,” General Reese said. “Do you remember what happened in the tent?”

Blade nodded.

“We saw some of your friends, your fellow Warriors, drive down to the tent in that vehicle you call a SEAL. We waited for awhile, then I drove down under a flag of truce. Your men had slain all of the Imperial Assassins and pulled you from the pit. Samuel and his damn pet were both dead. You were bleeding profusely, and I called my medics to examine you.

It was agreed you would die unless you received a quick transfusion. Your men lacked the equipment and the blood. I suggested we should bring you here. Dr. Edmonds performed the transfusion and has been watching over you for two days.”

“I’ve been here two days?” Blade mumbled, stunned.

“Your army is encamped outside the walls,” General Reese explained.

“We have supplied them with food and other provisions.”

“Wait a minute,” Blade said, struggling to comprehend. “Do you mean to tell me you’re one of Samuel’s generals?”

General Reese nodded. “I was one of the bastard’s generals,” he corrected the Warrior.

“Then why didn’t you try to save Samuel?” Blade inquired suspiciously.

“Why didn’t you send down your troops when you saw the SEAL heading for the tent?”

General Reese grinned. “You must understand something. Samuel appointed myself and two others as his generals after his previous generals were killed in Cheyenne when you nuked the Citadel. None of us bore Samuel any great affection. Actually, we hated him. We wanted to see him die. His old officers had been with him for decades, and they were an integral part of his corrupt regime.” He paused and proudly straightened his shoulders. “We owed no loyalty to Samuel. Our allegiance is to the people of the Civilized Zone. Many junior officers have wanted to rebel for years. But any revolution while the Doktor and Samuel were alive was out of the question. The Doktor’s genetic deviates and Samuel’s senior-grade officers would have nipped any revolt in the bud. We had to bide our time until the circumstances were favorable.”

He beamed at Blade. “Thanks to you, we were handed the perfect opportunity on a silver platter.”

“Then we’ve won?” Blade said, amazed.

“Rikki-Tikki-Tavi has told me you don’t intend to use a thermo on Denver,” General Reese mentioned. “He also informed me the Family does not plan to install one of your own members in Samuel’s place. Is all this true?”

“We won’t use a thermo unless forced. We only want peace.”

“And yet your Federation declared war on the Civilized Zone,” General Reese said, studying Blade’s expression.

“As Rikki also probably told you,” Blade stated, “we declared war as an act of self-preservation. We knew all about Samuel’s grand scheme to reconquer the former territory of the United States, and we weren’t about to let ourselves be dominated by a dictator.”

General Reese nodded. “I believe you,” he said. “And, on behalf of the people of the Civilized Zone, I formally offer our surrender.”

Blade glanced at Rikki. “Have you heard from Toland, the rebel leader?”

“I can answer that,” General Reese interjected. “Yes, we have. He’s on his way to Denver and should arrive today. I’ve already granted him total amnesty.”

“Will you agree to work with him in the formation of your new government?” Blade demanded.

“Better than that,” General Reese said. “I will place my entire command at his disposal.”

Blade slowly nodded. “I trust you, General Reese. But I must make one thing clear to you. If you should change your mind and attempt to take over the government, or if the military balks at the prospect of holding popular elections, I will return to Denver with the Federation Army.”

“There will be no need for that,” General Reese assured Blade. “We are sincere. And once the people have tasted true freedom there will be no turning back.”

“That’s what they believed before World War III,” Blade reminded the officer. “Look where it got them.”

“We will diligently preserve our newfound freedom,” General Reese vowed.

“I hope so,” Blade commented. “For your sake.”

Dr. Edmonds moved closer to the Warrior. “If you don’t mind,” he stated, “and if you promise to let me live, I’d like to examine your stitches and apply dressing and bandages.”

Blade laughed. “Be my guest,” he said. “And I apologize for what I did to you.”

“I’ll have some food brought,” General Reese mentioned. “If you feel up to it, tomorrow I’d like you to address our people at Mile High Stadium.”

“You want me to speak to your citizens?” Blade responded.

“We have already announced Samuel’s death,” General Reese revealed.

“You have become something of a hero to the populace. They would be thrilled to hear from you personally.”

“I don’t know,” Blade equivocated.

There was an abrupt commotion outside of the bedroom. A figure dressed all in blue darted into the chamber, his Wilkinson in his left hand, his normally controlled features registering his severe anxiety. It was Yama. “Blade!” he called, and dashed to the bed.

“What is it?” Blade asked apprehensively.

Yama was short of breath. “Geronimo… Geronimo is at the camp,” he announced. “He reports the Home is under attack.”

“By whom?” Blade inquired, quickly sliding from the bed.

“Geronimo says two thousand troops from the Civilized Zone were about twelve miles from the compound when he stole a jeep and came to warn us,” Yama replied.

Blade glared at General Reese.

The general’s surprise was self-evident. “I didn’t know!” he assured the Warrior. “Believe me! I didn’t know! I knew some of our troops were missing, but Samuel wouldn’t say where they were.”

“I believe you,” Blade stated.

“I’ll do anything I can to help,” General Reese proposed.

“I’ll need to borrow a set of fatigues,” Blade said. “My address to your people will have to wait. We’re leaving immediately.” He contemplated a moment. “I could use gasoline for my convoy.”

“It’s yours,” General Reese pledged.

“Then let’s get this show on the road!”