Remember The Alamo (36 page)

"Keep an eye on them," Dave told Dieter and Belko as he
turned to hurry toward the rear of the chapel. The shooting had
stopped back there, too.

He found Stark and Mahone by one of the rear windows.
Stark was wiping blood off his tanned cheek where some
flying glass had cut it. He nodded toward the front of the
Alamo and asked, "Secure up there?"

"Secure for right now," Dave replied. "What happened back
here?"

"They tried to get to the doors with a battering ram, like
they did up front yesterday," Mahone said. "We were able to
pick them off before they got close enough to use it."

"I wonder how many of them we've killed by now."

"Forty or fifty at most," Stark guessed. "Wounded maybe
fifty more." He shook his head. "They've got hundreds
more, though, and that General Salgado doesn't mind using
them up ""

Dave grunted. "Life's cheap below the border. The men in
power, like Salgado, don't give a damn about anything except
getting what they want. I wish all of my relatives who were
still down there would get out. I'd help them all come here
legally." He gave a hollow laugh. "Although by the time this is
over, I won't be in a position to help anybody with anything,
I don't imagine. It's just a fluke that they're not in here right now, killing us all." He explained about how the GI driving the
truck had bailed out before ramming the vehicle into the
doors.

"Couldn't bring himself to do it despite his orders, eh?"
Mahone said. "And he paid with his life for it, the poor soldier."

Stark said, "I reckon he saved our lives, though, like Dave
said."

"And now with that truck abandoned there, they can't try
the same tactic again," Dave said. "Luck and that soldier's
sacrifice-have bought us a little more time."

But only a little, and they all knew it.

"One of my men is dead, mister!" Cumberland screamed at
General Salgado. "You're damned lucky my boys didn't wipe
out you and all your little tin soldiers!"

Salgado trembled with barely suppressed rage. "Your man
disobeyed a direct order, Colonel," he said. "He was fleeing in
the face of the enemy. He deserved to be shot down like the
dog he was"

It was all Cumberland could do not to go after Salgado and
choke the life out of the oily bastard himself. "Specialist All-
ston was a good soldier," he forced out between clenched
teeth. "He would have obeyed any order he was given--except
to help kill his fellow Americans who haven't done a damned
thing wrong!"

"They are terrorists-"

"Bullshit!" Cumberland roared. "We all know that grabbing
the Alamo the way you tried to do ain't legal! It was all for
show! The Alamo belongs to Texas, and our wishy-washy government didn't have the right to give it away, even symbolically.
And Mexico sure as hell doesn't have the right to keep it!"

Salgado sneered. "That is up to the courts to decide, as well
as world opinion."

"Your courts?"

"You would impugn the honor and integrity of the Mexican
courts?"

Cumberland just stared at him for a second, then burst out
with a disbelieving laugh. Salgado flushed an even darker
red at the scorn and contempt in Cumberland's laughter.

The confrontation between the two men was taking place out
in the open, half a block away from the line of trucks along the
edge of Alamo Plaza. Under normal circumstances, Cumberland wouldn't have had an argument with another officer where
anyone else could hear it, but these were hardly normal circumstances. For one thing, one of Salgado's men had callously
murdered one of his men, and Cumberland didn't like that.
Wasn't going to stand for it, in fact. The president could come
down here and preside over his court-martial her own damn
self if she wanted to, but he wasn't going to lift one finger or
put one more of his men in harm's way to help these Mexican
thugs and hoodlums. Because that was exactly what they were,
uniforms or no uniforms.

After the president's statement saying that the U.S. military
would take an active role in helping the Mexicans root out the
fellas who had holed up in the Alamo, Cumberland had hoped
that Salgado would be proud enough, and stubborn enough, to
refuse that offer. Instead, Salgado had insisted that one of
Cumberland's men drive the truck that he had commandeered
for the latest assault on the mission. Not only that, but a strike
force of American troops had been poised a block away to
move in and help the Mexicans mop up after the Alamo's defenses were breached.

Cumberland had been uneasy about that idea from the getgo. He had his orders and so did his men, but he had been
unsure they would follow any commands that involved shooting American citizens.

It hadn't come to that, but only because Specialist Allston, who'd been tapped to drive the truck, had followed his
instincts and refused to take part in slaughtering his fellow
Americans. He had paid for that valiant stand with his life.

But his sacrifice had saved the Texans inside the Alamo.

"We're pullin' out," Cumberland said as he turned away
from Salgado.

"What do you mean?" the Mexican general demanded.

"Just what I said. My men and I are withdrawing and going
back to Fort Sam Houston. You're on your own, General."

"But ... but you cannot do this!" Salgado sputtered, clearly
surprised by Cumberland's defiance. "You are under my orders!
I can have one of my men shoot you for desertion!"

"You go right ahead and give that order, General," Cumberland said softly. "You tell your boys to open fire on my troops.
I'd like that just fine."

Salgado frowned. He knew as well as Cumberland did that
if it came down to a fight, the Mexican forces would be wiped
out. Not without some cost to the Americans, of course, but
the outcome of the battle would never be in doubt.

"You are throwing away your career, Colonel," he warned.

"The way things are going in this country lately, I'm not
sure my career's worth saving anymore. I'm tired of politicians
who use the military for a whipping boy and blame it for most
of the ills of the world, except when they need to use us for
some cock-eyed, half-baked scheme ... like turning the
Alamo over to Mexico!" Cumberland shook his head. "No,
I'm done. The hell with it." He turned to his aide. "Major,
we're going back to Fort Sam. Pass the word"

The major came to attention and snapped a salute. "Yes,
sir!" The relief was evident in his voice. No one, from the top
to the bottom of Cumberland's command, had wanted any part
of what was happening here.

"This will do those terrorists no good, Colonel," Salgado said. "We still outnumber them more than ten to one. We will
take what is rightfully ours"

Cumberland swung back toward him. "I hear you call those
fine, upstanding Texans terrorists one more time, General, and
I'm gonna forget that we're both officers and punch you in the
mouth."

A muscle in Salgado's cheek twitched, but other than that
he just stood there motionless and glared at Cumberland. After
a moment, the American colonel turned and stalked away, glad
to be leaving this madness behind.

Maybe Salgado was right and he really was throwing his
career away. If things turned out that way, it would be a
damned shame. But maybe that career was no longer worth it
if preserving it meant sacrificing every shred of honor he had
left.

As Cumberland walked toward the jeeps and trucks that his
men had loaded onto, he lifted his hand and made a revolving motion over his head, signaling for the drivers to wind 'em
up. With a throaty roar, the engines came to life and the army
moved out, leaving the Mexicans to their dirty work.

The president stared at the chairman of the JCS. "He did
what?"

"Withdrew and went back to Fort Sam Houston," the chairman said.

"On whose orders?"

"His own, evidently."

"I want his head," the president said as her lips drew back
from her teeth in a grimace of anger and hatred. "I want him
court-martialed, and I don't want him to ever see the outside
of a federal prison again."

"And you could probably get those things, ma'am," the
chairman said, "but if you did, you'd also get the resignations of dozens, if not hundreds, of other officers in field commands.
You can't stop word from spreading on the grapevine in the
army, ma'am, especially not this day and age. Our forces
around the world know by now that Colonel Cumberland refused to aid the Mexicans, and most of them support that decision, whether they'd admit it or not"

"But for God's sake, why? He disobeyed orders! Doesn't
that mean anything anymore to you ... you soldiers?"

The chairman's lips tightened, and the president knew that
he had heard the disdain she was unable to keep out of her
voice whenever she spoke of the military. He said, "Ma'am,
one of the Mexican officers gunned down an American soldier in cold blood. If you can't understand how that makes the
rest of our troops feel, then I don't know if I could ever explain
it to you. All I can say is that we're lucky the situation didn't
get a lot worse in San Antonio this morning. It probably would
have if one of the men inside the Alamo hadn't killed that
Mexican a second later with a single shot to the head"

"You sound like you admire the man who did that," the
president said accusingly.

A faint smile touched the chairman's lips. "Got to admire
a man who can make the shot when he needs to"

The president slumped back in the big chair behind her desk
in the Oval Office. Even though there were always a lot of
other people around-her chief of staff, her other advisors,
even her husband-she felt a growing sense of solitude. She
had to ask herself if she was the only one who was still trying
to do the right thing. More and more people were acting like
those men inside the Alamo were heroes of some sort. The
opinion polls showed that support for her actions was slipping.
The American people had approved of turning over the Alamo
to Mexico by only the slightest of margins to start with, and
those numbers had dropped significantly over the weekend.
With every new development-the video depicting the actions of the Reconquistadores in Alamo Plaza, Mexico's announced
plan to retain control of the Alamo, the U.N. resolution supporting that plan, the shutting off of communications with the defenders inside the old mission, the pledge to use U.S. troops to
help the Mexicans force them out-the poll numbers had
plummeted even further.

The way things were going, she ran the risk of having no
support left at all except for her base, for which she could do
no wrong. And that just wasn't enough to govern effectivelyand especially not enough to get reelected-in this day
and age.

"Has Colonel Cumberland been relieved of command?" she
asked in a weary voice as she swiveled her chair so that she
could look out at the middle of a sunny spring Sunday in
Washington.

"Yes, ma'am, pending an investigation into his actions."

Without turning around, the president said, "Make sure that
investigation remains pending for the time being."

"Yes, ma'am." The chairman sounded like he understood
what she was getting at. "And the operation to provide assistance to the Mexican forces?"

"That operation is temporarily suspended, pending the results of the investigation into Colonel Cumberland's action.
But we still fully support any actions taken legally by General
Salgado's forces"

"Yes, ma'am," he said again. "And, with all due respect,
Madam President, I believe you have reached the correct
decision on these matters"

"Thank you," she said as she continued to stare out at the
sunshine. Despite the warmth of its appearance, she felt a chill
go through her. The decision she had just made was based on
one thing and one thing only-the need to cover her ass with
the voters. She was doing something she had vowed she would
never do once she got in office. She was compromising her principles. But she had to, in order to hang on to power, which
was the most important thing.

There had to be some way, she thought, some way to solidify her grip on power so that nothing could ever threaten
it again. Some way to fix things so she wouldn't have to
worry about poll numbers or public support or elections,
ever again....

But that was a problem for another day. Right now she had
those damned Texans in the Alamo to worry about.

Phil's condition worsened during the day on Sunday. He
developed a cough, and after listening to his lungs, Doc
Stone took Dave, Stark, Mahone, Dieter, and Belko aside
and broke the bad news to them.

"That bullet must have nicked his left lung," Doc said. "I
didn't think it had penetrated that far, but something caused
an infection to set in and he's developed a bad case of pneumonia from it. I can't treat him here. He needs to be in a hospital where he can get constant care and have some stronger
antibiotics pumped into him."

Stark said, "If you take him out there and surrender him
to the Mexicans, Salgado will execute him. I can almost
guarantee it."

Dave nodded. "I feel the same way. What if we try to
escape?"

"Abandon the Alamo, you mean?" Belko asked.

"We can't go out the front way," Dave said. "The Mexican
army has it blocked. But if we made it out the back, we might
be able to get to the San Antonio police and surrender to
them."

I don't like givin' up," Belko said with a scowl.

Mahone shook his head. "The point is moot. The Mexicans have set up a couple of machine guns in back, at the
corners of the property. They can cover both the rear door
and the side door from where they are. If we try to go out
either of those ways, they'll cut us down"

"They don't want us leaving or even surrendering now,"
Stark said. "They want us to stay holed up in here so they'll
have an excuse to massacre us to the last man when they finally get inside. Salgado wants to make an example of us"