The Peacemakers Read Online Free

Office of Military-Political Affairs. “We’re in the E-Ring now,” he told David Allston. It was a gentle reminder they were in the command section of the Pentagon. “Brigadier General Richards is expecting you.” Allston suppressed a groan. He was still suffering from jet lag and a lack of sleep after catching the red-eye from San Francisco. The recall to active duty had come as a total surprise and he was still wondering what had driven that decision. The Air Force was full of active-duty lieutenant colonels and colonels who would jump at chance for an independent command, no matter how small. Still, there was no mistaking the urgency behind the order to report to the Pentagon. This was his fifth stop as he worked his way through the staff receiving a series of briefings on his assignment. “The General expects you to report in a military manner,” the captain said.
    “I think I can remember how to do that,” Allston reassured him. The captain spoke to a secretary who buzzed Richards’ inner sanctum. She motioned them to chairs to wait. Allston smiled at her. “Is it still fifteen minutes for majors, ten minutes for lieutenant colonels, and five minutes for colonels?” he asked. The time kept waiting was an old Pentagon pecking-order game many generals still played.
    The secretary gave him an angry look only to be met with his lopsided grin. Something softened inside her. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Tea?”
    “Now that’s a first,” the captain escorting Allston grumbled.
    “Thanks, but no thanks,” Allston replied.
    Exactly ten minutes later, the secretary ushered Allston into Richards’ office. The secretary gave Allston a sweet smile, hoping he would ask her out to coffee. Allston snapped a sharp salute. “Lieutenant Colonel Allston reporting as directed.” It wasn’t “as ordered,” which was his way of reminding the general that she was not in his chain of command.
    Richards returned the salute and let him stand at attention. It was her way of establishing control. It was also a mistake since it gave Allston time to size her up. His eyes roamed around her office, taking in the plaques and photographs. There was not a single item indicating she had ever been close to operations, or an airplane for that matter. “You’re wearing the retro service dress jacket,” she told him. “It was phased out last year.” The jacket was a throwback to the 1940’s with a belt and patch pockets.
    Allston played the game. He went to parade rest, his hands clasped behind his back. “Permission to speak,” he said.
    She smiled indulgently. “Permission to speak is not necessary, Colonel. We’re not the Marines.”
    “Thank you ma’am. At least this looks military and reminds folks of our heritage, and not a bus driver.”
    “I take it you wouldn’t be caught dead in the new uniform?
    “Only if I wanted to be laughed out of the nearest bar.”
    She gave him the tight smile. “I designed it, Colonel.”
    Not the best of beginnings, he thought. “My apologies, ma’am, but I believe it is counterproductive.”
    “How so?”
    “The new uniform is a fashion statement. No staying power, which is what the military is all about.”
    She dropped the subject. “Well, Colonel, I’m your last briefing.” That wasn’t true, and Allston had one more stop that she didn’t need to know about. “It’s critical that you understand the 4440th Special Airlift Detachment’s unique position. You fall under the operational command of the United Nations Relief and Peacekeeping Mission, Southern Sudan.” Allston already knew that. “That command arrangement is part of the quid pro quo for our participation in the United Nations Sudanese relief operation. That means you are outside the normal command and control of AFRICOM and the NMCC.” AFRICOM was US Africa Command, the unified command in charge of US forces in Africa that reported directly to the NMCC, the National Military Command Center.
    “That does