The Outlaws (Presidential Agent 6) - Page 101

This sort of situation was not dealt with in Problems of Leadership 101 at West Point, nor anywhere else since I’ve been in the Army.

Correction: During the time I was in the Army.

So, what are you going to do now, General MacArthur, so that everyone can see you are in fact acting like you’re in command?

Confidently in command.

There’s a hell of a difference between being in command, and being confidently in command.

And those being commanded damned well know it.

You better think of something, and quick!

Colin Leverette came to his rescue.

“I know what,” Leverette said. “Let’s start all over.”

“What?” Svetlana asked.

“No, Mr. Pevsner,” Leverette went on, “we are not all going to sit around and get drunk. We’re going to have one—possibly two—Sazerac cocktails, and then we’re going to get down to business.”

Pevsner didn’t respond.

Castillo looked between them, and thought: I believe Uncle Remus just saved my ass.

What is that, for the two hundred and eleventh time?

“That was your cue, Mr. Pevsner,” Delchamps said, “to say, ‘I should not have said what I did. Please forgive me.’”

Pevsner looked at him incredulously.

“It’s a question of command, Aleksandr,” Tom Barlow said, his tone making it clear that now he was wearing his polkovnik’s hat. “If Charley, the commander, doesn’t object to something, you have no right to. Now, ask Uncle Remus to forgive your runaway mouth.”

“You have just earned my permission, Podpolkovnik Berezovsky,” Leverette said, “to call me Uncle Remus.”

Now, everyone looked at Pevsner.

“Uncle Remus is waiting, Mr. Pevsner,” Delchamps said after a long moment.

After another long moment, Pevsner smiled, and said, “If an apology for saying something I should not have said is the price for one of Mr. Leverette’s cocktails, I happily pay it.”

Castillo had another unpleasant series of rapid thoughts:

Well, Pevsner caved, and quicker than I thought he would.

Problem solved.

Wait a minute! Aleksandr Pevsner—unlike me—never says anything until he thinks it through.

He knew the apology meant he understood he can’t question me.

But what about the first crack he made?

Was that an attempt to put himself in charge?

If we’d caved, that woul

d have put him in a position to question—question hell, disapprove—of anything.

Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller
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