When Osborn had brought up the subject of muzzling the media before, some of the militia leaders had objected to such a move. Now, however, with the Federal forces closing in and their role in dictating policy secure, Osborn felt he could make his move.

In the seat across from him, Thomas glared but said nothing. It was, after all, his fault that harm was about to come to that woman. Just like it was his fault that the very state he loved was about to be torn apart by a country he had once served.

BOISE, IDAHO EVENING, NOVEMBER 10

As she waited for the governor’s nightly letter to the Adjutant General, Nancy looked around the outer office and made a few mental notes. While someone had been nice enough to bring a cot in for the governor, the aides and assistants who stayed by his side had to make do with one sofa and their chairs. Nancy saw this as a lucky break. No cots meant less clutter and furniture to trip over later. She also noted that the militia officers had posted only one man in the outer office to keep an eye on the staff who had access to the governor. While she had no idea what he was instructed to do in an emergency, Nancy doubted that he would pose a serious problem.

Emerging from the governor’s office, an aide handed Nancy the nightly letter for Adjutant General. She held it at arm’s length for a moment and studied the envelope. While the font used to address the letter was still the same, Nancy wondered just how much of the content of the letter was the governor’s and how much had been generated by someone else. Well, she thought to herself as she stuffed the letter in her map case, she’d read enough of the governor’s work by now to figure it out.

Leaving the office she made her way to the barricade manned by the militiamen outside the office in the hall. Hesitating, she looked around. One of the militiamen noted the look of concern on her face and chuckled. “Your driver’s taking a leak.”

From somewhere around the corner the sound of a door being kicked open could be heard, followed by the distinctive footfalls combat boots make on highly polished tile floors. When her driver came around the corner he was still buttoning his fly. He finished this task just as he came up to the militia checkpoint. Looking at Nancy, he smiled. “Ready whenever you are.”