The Peacemakers Read Online Free Page A

not mean you are a free agent. You take direct logistical support from the Air Force and you are to consider yourself part of the Air Force at all times. However, operationally you will respond to the UN Relief and Peacekeeping Mission. As this is part of the White House’s new foreign policy initiatives, you will liaison with my office.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
    “There is one more thing,” she said flatly. “You have a reputation for singing rude drinking songs, smoking cigars, and drinking, all of which must stop.”
    “I only sing in the shower now, gave up cigars years ago, and hardly drink.”
    She frowned. “And womanizing.”
    “I did do market studies between wives.”
    “Today’s Air Force strongly discourages that type of conduct. Do you understand?”
    “Completely.”
    “Good. Dismissed.”
    “Thank you, ma’am.” He threw a sharp salute and beat a dignified retreat, glad to escape the lion’s den.
    Outside, Allston checked the time. He thanked the captain escorting him and said he wanted to join a friend for dinner and could find his own way. The captain was glad to escape and took off. The secretary looked at him expectantly, hoping she was the friend. Allston gave her his best grin and ambled down the hall towards the riverfront. He walked into an outer office and was immediately ushered into General John “Merlin” Fitzgerald. The general returned his salute and came to his feet, extending his right hand. “Welcome back aboard.” Fitzgerald pointed to a couch and sat down beside him.
    “Dave, I inherited a can of worms on this one and have dropped you into it. I would have never let the 4440th be placed under the operational control of the UN and cannot think of a surer way to hang our people out to dry, especially in an area that is coming apart.” His jaw hardened. “I’m not going to let that happen, but the Air Force has been effectively sidelined. Right now, I only have one dog in this fight – you.” He spent the next eighteen minutes detailing Allston’s marching orders and what he expected.
    When he finished, Allston shook his head. “General, this sucks. You’ve got better things to do with your time than have me reporting directly to you through a back channel. You need to set up a special directorate for this type of thing.”
    “Unfortunately, that directorate is the Office of Military-Political Affairs that Congress created. I believe you’ve met Brigadier General Richards.”
    Allston leaned back and groaned loudly.

TWO
    Over South Sudan
    C aptain Marci Jenkins didn’t know what to make of her new commander. The 4440th had received word he was coming and his reputation had spread like wildfire through the detachment. The reaction was universal – they had been lumbered with a broken-down fighter pilot, the last thing trash haulers needed. The acting commander of the detachment, Major Dick Lane, had bit his tongue and detailed her to fly a C-130 to Bole International Airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia and pick him up. Once on the ground, Allston had simply walked up to the waiting Hercules and introduced himself. Surprisingly, he was wearing a gray-green ABU, the Airman Battle Uniform, and not a dress uniform. He wasn’t what she had expected.
    The flight from Bole was just over ninety minutes and she asked if he would like to sit in the copilot’s seat and fly the Hercules. He gave her his lopsided grin, settled into the seat, and took control. She was impressed with the smooth and instinctive way Allston flew the C-130. Even Technical Sergeant Leroy Riley, the flight engineer, noticed the way he brought the old bird onto the step with ease, increasing their airspeed and lowering fuel consumption. Most pilots only talked about it, and many denied it could be done. But their airspeed and fuel flow were ample proof it could. “How’s she feel?” Marci Jenkins asked from the left seat.
    “Just like old times,” Allston replied.
    “I thought you