But years of training and conditioning restrained the emotional responses of the father. Scott knew doing so would be more than wrong. It would be a betrayal of everything that he stood for, that his beloved Army stood for. While it was fashionable in Third World countries for officers to use their troops for personal gain, such things simply were not part of the American fabric. From the earliest days of that institution, when George Washington refused to heed the call of his officers to place himself over his civilian masters, American Army officers had kept the faith. Generation after generation of Army officers had placed duty, honor, and country above all else. Scott Dixon, despite an anguish that was tearing him apart, could do no differently.

The grieving father was unable to respond to his chief of staff for fear of losing control of his emotions. Instead, he simply averted his gaze by looking back out over the western horizon.

ALONG MORES CREEK, IDAHO EARLY EVENING, NOVEMBER 11

The collection of personalities gathered about in a tight circle in the center of the paratroopers’ hide position was as unusual as the course of events that had brought them here. Among them were the journalists, Jan and a very nervous Sam Anderson. While their crews tried to mingle with Nathan’s men, Jan worked on Anderson. “There comes a time,” she was explaining to him after he had heard the plan, “when we have to stop being journalists and stand up for what we believe in.”

Anderson shook his head. “I’m no coward. I’ve covered some pretty nasty stories. There were times when I sat in the shelter of a building watching tracers go screaming by and asking myself ‘what in the hell are you doing here?’ You know the feeling.”

“Yes I do, Sam,” she responded in a hushed, sympathetic tone. “And I know you did what I always did. You swallowed your fear and ran out in pursuit of the story.”

“We’re not pursuing a story here, Jan,” the other journalist countered. “We’re making the story. We’re using our cameras and access to influence events.”

Nathan, who represented the Federal government, couldn’t resist the opening. “Yeah, sort of like Woodward and Bernstein did with the Watergate thing.”

The New York—based journalist gave Nathan a dirty look. “That was different. They were only doing what good investigative reporters are supposed to do.”