Chapters (79)
- Games of State
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- GAMES OF TOMORROW
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- THE END
- ABOUT THE CREATORS
"But for the wrong team," Rodgers said. " Just come back for a few days. Talk to me. Look over the team. You bring the glue, and I'll bring the airplane."
August was quiet.
"All right," he said after a long time, "I'll work out leave with General DiFate. But I'm only coming back to talk and build the kit. No promises."
"No promises," Rodgers agreed.
"And set up the dinner with Barb. You figure out how to get her to Washington."
"Done," said Rodgers.
August thanked him and hung up.
Rodgers sat back. He smiled a big, comfortable smile. After the run-in with Senator Fox and Martha, the General had felt like taking the Striker command job himself. Anything to get out of this building, away from the political bullshit, to do something more than just sit on his ass. The prospect of working with August lifted him up. Rodgers didn't know if he should be glad or ashamed at how easy it was to get in touch with the little boy in him.
The phone beeped.
He decided that as long as he was happy and doing his job, it didn't matter whether he felt five years old or forty-five. Because as he reached for the phone, Rodgers knew that the happiness wouldn't last.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Thursday, 3:51 P.M.,
Hanover, Germany
Bob Herbert huffed a little as he wheeled himself away from his car.
Herbert didn't have a motor on his wheelchair, and he never would. If he was ninety and frail, unable to wheel very far, he simply wouldn't go very far. He felt that being unable to walk didn't mean being incapacitated. While he was too old to try to do wheelies, like some of the kids in the rehabilitation center all those years ago, he didn't like the idea of puttering around when he could wheel himself. Liz Gordon once told him that he was using that to flagellate himself because he had lived while his wife had died. But Herbert didn't buy that. He liked moving under his own steam and he loved the endorphin rush he got from turning the millstone weight of the wheels. He had never been one to work out before the 1983 explosion, and this sure beat hell out of the biphetamines they used to take in Lebanon to stay awake in times of crisis. Which in Beirut was all the time.