Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,160

walked purposefully but with measured steps, taking his time to reach them. When he did, he ignored the officers, instead going straight to the major.

“Sidney, would you please explain to me what is going on here?”

Chandler had a mild French accent, one Rubin was very aware was more affected than real. He had deliberately turned his back on Joe, a sign of disrespect, in order to show Kingsley he didn’t have to fear repercussions by not following orders.

“The colonel wanted to inspect the men, sir.”

“The colonel has no right to inspect the men, Major. This is private property, not a military base.” Chandler turned, removed his glasses and looked Joe up and down dismissively. “These men are my private security force, and this is private property. You have no right to be here, and I want you to leave immediately.”

“These men are soldiers of the United States government, in service to that government, Mr. Chandler,” Joe responded mildly. “You are very much mistaken if you think they are your private security force. They are under my command.”

Chandler had a difficult time keeping his expression pleasant. “You don’t really understand …” He trailed off expectantly.

“Colonel Spagnola,” Joe supplied.

“Well then, Colonel Spagnola. I do important work here for the United States government. Top security clearance only. I have to have a security team I trust surrounding me. I’ve worked with these men and know them. They’re on loan to me. I don’t, however, know you. So, if you don’t mind …”

“You have several very sick soldiers here, Mr. Chandler.”

“If you and your men don’t leave, Colonel, I’ll have you escorted off the property.”

“That is an impossibility, as I outrank your security force and they are under my orders, Mr. Chandler. I am under orders. That is what the military is all about. We follow orders.”

“Then if I call someone with higher rank than you and he orders you to leave this property, you will have no choice but to do so,” Chandler said smugly. He pulled out his cell phone.

Be ready, Ryland. He’s calling now, Ezekiel advised.

At long last. Rubin knew they had been chasing an elusive tie to a White House enemy for some time, but could never find out who it was. If Chandler actually called someone there, they would have a name. Somewhere to start.

“Good afternoon, Tracy, Chandler here. Put me through to Barron. I have a situation here I’d like him to take care of for me.”

They were all silent. Rubin observed the men. Most looked tired. Those on the ground, a little hopeless, where before, when Joe had been inspecting them, there had been a ray of light. Now, most of them looked as if they were already defeated. Kingsley went back and forth, one moment appearing triumphant, the next upset, especially when he looked at his men. Rubin had never seen men more desperate for help than these soldiers—or more stoic. They had resigned themselves to dying a slow death.

“Have a bit of a problem, Barron, need you to tell this colonel to leave my property. He seems to think he can throw his weight around. Wants to inspect my men.” Chandler listened for a moment and then laughed. “Sure thing. Next time I’m there, we’ll have lunch. Thanks for this.” He extended his arm, phone in hand. “Barron Scotsdale, aide to the vice president, would like a word with you.”

Joe took the phone. “Mr. Scotsdale. Colonel Spagnola. Yes, sir, I understand completely. Yes, sir, I understand, but the only one that can rescind my orders is Major General Tennessee Milton. He sent me here with specific orders and until he rescinds those orders, I am obligated to carry them out. You can call him and have him call me. In the meantime, I will continue to follow them.” More listening. “Yes, sir. I know who you are. I will expect to hear from Major General immediately.”

Instead of placing the phone in Chandler’s outstretched hand, Joe hit the end call button and pocketed the phone. “Gino and Mordichai, please place Mr. Chandler under arrest for his numerous treasonous crimes against the United States of America.” Joe’s voice turned crisp, all military commander.

“What?” Chandler backpedaled. Tried to put himself behind the major. “Kingsley, do something. It’s your job to protect me from these people.”

“Major Kingsley is a soldier serving his country, Chandler,” Joe said calmly. “He does not serve a man who would willingly sell out his country.”

Gino and Mordichai closed in on Chandler and grasped him