January Dawn

by Cody Lennon

  Gammon put his hand on the door handle and said, “Everything will make sense in time.”

  We entered the living room of what looked to be a studio penthouse of sorts. The large apartment was built like an amphitheater, with the kitchen at the top, living room in the middle and the bedroom at the lowest level. At the far end was a window that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling, providing a panoramic view of the south side of the city.

  I kept a blank expression on my face, even though on the inside I was burning with fury as I noticed the half dozen men wearing United States Army uniforms. They were spread out along the far wall. Some of them had rifles hanging at their sides. We should shoot them all right now.

  One of the men stepped forward and shook hands with Gammon. He had on green camo fatigues and a black beret. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. General Gammon, a traitor?

  “General Taylor, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me considering the circumstances,” Gammon said.

  “War is a busy time, Dominic, but I always make time for old friends,” the man said. Old friends?

  The man standing next to him offered his hand.

  “General Gammon, this is Alan Barnes, the Assistant Secretary of State. Mr. Barnes, this is General Gammon, Commander of Confederate Forces in the State of Georgia.”

  Alan Barnes was a balding man with a pair of wide-brimmed glasses, a small nose and shiny shoes. He wore a fine tailored black suit with a blue tie.

  “It’s an honor to finally meet you in person, General. Shall we?” He said, indicating for them to take a seat on the living room couches. The man looked out of place surrounded by all the military uniforms.

  As Gammon took his seat, I positioned myself right beside him and kept my rifle ready with my finger on the trigger guard, ready to flip the safety off in a moment’s notice. I stared straight ahead. It was safe to say that my face didn’t have the nicest expression.

  “Perhaps your, ugh, guard dogs can relax a little,” the nerdy looking man said, nervously shifting his glasses.

  “There are a lot of men that want me dead, Mr. Barnes. Forgive me if I keep my bodyguards close,” Gammon said.

  “Very well then,” Mr. Barnes cleared his throat, still obviously unsatisfied with the amount of guns in the room. “I presented your proposal to President Fairchild. He declines on the grounds that many of the provisions for which you claim have been null and voided in recent days as our forces continue moving westward. However, the President is very eager for this to be the last negotiation and he ordered me not to come back to D.C. without a successful resolution. Here is a draft of a new agreement drawn up by President Fairchild and the War Department. Please, take a moment to look it over. We can discuss any stipulations that you may have when you are finished.”

  Gammon took the piece of paper and read it thoroughly.

  “I don’t understand what he’s asking of me in this.”

  “Both our nations are weary of war, Dominic, and this war is nearly over. The Confederacy will not survive to see the turn of the New Year. You and I have been in too many wars to know that the bloodshed does not end with the peace treaty. The violence and the disorder that follows the resolution of war can often times be just as destructive as the war itself,” General Taylor explained.

  “You are a strong and capable leader, General. Your people look up to you for your devout leadership. That’s precisely why our President wants you to head the provisional government that will help restore these states to the Union. Our people are intertwined by blood. President Fairchild does not want to see any more fellow Americans die. It is only through a peaceful reconstruction through which we can achieve the greater glory of a restored American Union,” Mr. Barnes said.

  “And the President wants me to be the face of this transitional government?”

  “Exactly. With one word from you, your people will quit resisting, and your soldiers will put down their weapons. If you do not agree to these terms, you know what will happen, General. Our forces have shattered the last of the Confederacy’s outer defenses. Charleston, Jacksonville, New Orleans, Mobile, they’re all done. Savannah is the last coastal holdout. Your Navy is sunk. Your Air Force is grounded. Our forces have already moved a hundred miles inland in some areas. We’re only twenty miles from your capital. Your president is on the run. You see, it’s a matter of time before it all comes tumbling down. But we don’t want that. Further bloodshed is unnecessary. We can end this all today. All it requires is one pen stroke on that piece of paper. What do you say?” Mr. Barnes pulled a pen from his breast pocket and laid it out on the table.

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” Mr. Barnes shifted the glasses on his face in aggravation. “General, you called this meeting. I’ll be damned if--.”

  Gammon’s booming voice silenced the feeble man in the tailored suit. “I will surrender my forces, Mr. Barnes, but it’s not me that you want as your poster child for reconstruction.”

  “Then who?” he asked, surprised.

  “Silas Redman.”

  “The People’s General. We’ve considered him before, but we have no idea where he is or if he’s still alive, or if he’d even agree to these terms,” General Taylor said.

  “He’s alive and he’ll consent, and I know where he is,” Gammon proclaimed.

  “The man was publically disgraced and he’s been out of the circle for many years now. How do we know the people will respond to him?” Mr. Barnes asked.

  “It is true that Silas’s image has been diminished over the years, but he still holds considerable respect across the nation. We have plenty of allies in the military waiting to pledge their allegiance to him.”

  Mr. Barnes looked to General Taylor for clarification. Taylor nodded his head and Mr. Barnes said, “Alright. Where is the People’s General?”

  “Before I proceed any further, I want assurances that none of my men will be interned or prosecuted once this war is over.”

  “Unless future evidence sprouts supporting crimes committed in this war, no Confederate military man will face internment or prosecution at wars end. All we want is your president. The International Court of Justice has issued a warrant for his arrest. This is a stipulation that we have no power to overturn.”

  Gammon mulled this over in his head before picking up the pen and signing his name on the paper.

  The great military juggernaut had surrendered.

  Taylor and Barnes were elated as they shook hands with Gammon.

  “I will notify all forces under my command to immediately lay down their arms and surrender without a fight,” Gammon said. “And I will get you Silas Redman.”

  We exited the room and shuffled into the elevator. When the doors shut, the full weight of what just happened hit us. Gammon’s face flushed white.

  “Sir, you just surrendered to the Yankees. You said, you’d never surrender. You said, you’d bleed every last drop of your blood for your country,” Alex said.

  “I still would…You might think me a coward for what I did, but I will tell you this, my love for my country has never wavered. The cynics and the extremists will label me a traitor and call for me to hang. But it’s not for them that I did this for. I did it for our people. Our country is dying, but our culture doesn’t have to die with it. If I don’t do this, thousands more will perish, and still the end result will be the same.”

  The beloved General Gammon was sacrificing his own image and his life’s devotion so that the people he so valiantly defended for so many years could live on in a world without war. He did his duty as a soldier even though he knew the Confederacy would fail. And now as the war was coming to an end, he was still finding ways to live up to his legend.

  Once we reached the lobby and stepped outside into the sunlight, the General recuperated from his momentary sickness and the color returned to his face.

  As I moved to open the back door for Gammon, a Confederate Humvee appeared from around the corner and scre
eched to a halt in the intersection. Four masked men wearing blue camo stepped from the vehicle and immediately let into us with full automatic weapons. We hit the ground as bullets tore into the front of the Humvee and bounced off the pavement. When they stopped to reload, Alex and the others responded in turn, knocking two off their feet. The other two kept coming.

  I shoved the General into the backseat, swung around the back side of the vehicle, leveled my rifle and took aim at one of the two. I put three rounds in his chest. The last masked man pressed forward with blatant disregard for his own safety.

  Four shots ricocheted off the armor plating by my head. I ducked. When I popped out again the man had collapsed to his knees. His head was hanging low and stream of blood trickled from the nostril openings in his mask. The hit squad was dealt with almost as fast as they appeared. Alex called out for injuries. Everyone responded with an okay.

  “Get in, let’s go,” Alex ordered, jumping into the driver seat.

  He shifted into drive, swerved around the bodies in the street and sped back to Command.

  “Those were our own guys. Why did they try to kill us? Did they know about the meeting?” Junior asked.

  “Impossible, only Major Scott knew about it,” Gammon said.

  “It was those Legionnaire crackpots,” Carrigan said.

  “That could only mean one thing,” the General said. “Redman, get us back to my CP as fast as you can.”

  The first checkpoint refused to let us pass. Only when the General got out of the vehicle to threaten the soldier with a court martial did they wave us through.

  We were told that the base was on high alert after a brief firefight had occurred within the compound.

  At the CP we found the two sentries dead at their post. We entered in force and quickly secured the tent. It was all clear. All of the techs and desk workers were dead at their stations, slumped over and bleeding over the papers they had been working on early that morning. It was a massacre.

  We found Major Scott nestled on a stool next to the situation map, nursing two bullet wounds in his arm. The two Legion officers we had seen the day before lay dead at his feet.

  “Major, what happened?” Gammon asked.

  “I don’t know sir. One minute it was quiet and the next these clowns come busting in, shooting the place up. I found the pistol you hide in the top drawer of your desk and killed one of them. The other one shot me twice before he ran out of ammo. I dropped him with a round to the forehead.”

  “Nice work,” Alex said, inspecting the corpses.

  “Why would they do this?” Major Scott asked.

  “I believe they were sent to kill me,” the General said. “Check the communication logs for all inbound messages sent from Montgomery in the last twenty four hours.”

  Scott moved over to the computer and typed a few commands on the keyboard with his good hand.

  “There’s nothing sir. If anything came up, we would have flagged it.”

  “Bypass all configurative restrictions and open it up to all messages sent to regional departments in the area.”

  Scott typed another command. “Got something.”

  With a flick of the wrist, Major Scott posted what he had found on the big monitor hanging above.

  “My God,” the General exclaimed.

  “It is real,” Alex gasped.

  This was one of those moments when I really hated myself for not being able to read very well.

  “What’s it say?” I asked impatiently.

  “It’s what my dad warned us about. Operation Janus. And it’s dated today,” Alex said. “There must be forty or fifty names on that list.”

  “Major, some of these men are still in the city,” Gammon said. “Contact their units immediately and tell them to arrest or shoot all Confederate Legion forces on sight. Tennpenny, Redman, Carrigan, you three need to head to the Redman Plantation, secure the family and defend them at all costs. I’ll send help as soon as I can.”

  “Sir, what about me?” Junior asked.

  “You’re staying here with me, son. I need you.”

  “Sir, is my family really still alive?” Alex asked.

  “Alive and well. There’s been no action on that side of town.”

  “Sir, nobody is picking up. I think we’re too late,” Scott said, placing the phone back in the receiver.

  “Shit,” the General said, slamming his fist on the table. “What are you three waiting for? Get out of here.”

  As I turned to follow the others outside Gammon grabbed ahold my arm. “You do everything in your power to keep that family alive. This is your moment. Make it worth something.”

  And with that he let me go.

  This was my family, it was worth everything.

  Chapter 20

  June 1

  Alex and Carrigan and I commandeered a Humvee and rode hard toward the east toward the Redman Plantation. Major Scott had radioed ahead to all the checkpoints leading out of the city, allowing us to get by unmolested.

  We were told there were no U.S. Army units east of the city. The farther we drove, the farther we were from the actual fighting.

  We made it just after sundown. Alex stopped the vehicle just inside the gate.

  “If the Legion is already here, we could have a fight on our hands.” Carrigan said as we geared up.

  “Let’s be quick and let’s be smart about it. My family’s lives are at stake.”

  “Then let’s not waste any more time,” I said, handing Alex his rifle from the backseat.

  When we reached the bend in the road where the driveway opens up under the lane of oak trees, Alex shut the car off and we got out to walk.

  The house was dark, but visible in the distance. No sign of any activity. That could be a good sign.

  We moved together in formation down the driveway until we reached the dirt lot. His dad’s truck and his mom’s car were parked in the corner.

  “Carrigan, swing around the left side. Colton, swing around the right. I’ll head into the house. Call out if you see anything,” Alex said.

  I brought my rifle up at low-ready and broke right around the slate rock wall to the side of the house. I couldn’t see inside the house, the dining room windows were blocked by a sheet or something from the inside. I kept moving along the base of the porch, scanning left and right.

  The library window was boarded up too, but I could see a sliver of yellow light peeking out. A swarm of moths and other night bugs hovered around the mesmerizing light. I had to get a better look.

  I continued around the backside of the house where I met up with Carrigan.

  “Anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  We moved up the back steps together, our eyes planted firmly down the barrel of our rifles. The light from the library was more prominent now. The back porch windows weren’t boarded at all.

  Through the French doors, we spotted Alex down the hall moving into the dining room. When I looked through the window behind the porch swing, a great feeling of relief swept over me. The entire Redman family, alive and unharmed, sitting down together in the pale glow of candlelight to pass the time away.

  When Alex entered from the dining room his jaw dropped. He lowered his weapon and stood in the doorway, unable to believe what his eyes saw. His family was so enmeshed with laughter and fun that they didn’t notice him standing there until Benjamin looked up.

  Their heartfelt screams of joy and relief were music to my ears. They all swarmed him, bathing him with the love of hugs and kisses. Each of his siblings tugged at him and swamped him with questions. His mother cried. She wouldn’t let go of him. Mr. Redman cried also, but settled for an affectionate fatherly handshake. And there was Tess, beside herself with tears of happiness, as she reached up to hug his neck. There’s always another way, I thought after witnessing this wonderful moment.

  “He’s got a beautiful family,” Carrigan said, peering over my shoulder.

  Alex’s nightmares proved untrue. His fam
ily was alive. All of the fighting had taken place south and west of the city, miles away from the Redman Plantation.

  “House is all clear, come on in,” Alex relayed over the radio.

  I almost didn’t want to go inside. My hand lingered on the door handle. I didn’t know why, but I was nervous. It’s not that I didn’t want to be there. It was quite the opposite really. It was the first time I ever had a place I cared for and yearned to return to. I felt comfortable here. I felt at home.

  After I took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in my stomach I went inside. My heart skipped a few beats when I presented myself in the library in front of the Redman family. I was immediately attacked by little Lucas, who ran to me yelling my name. I scooped him up in my arms.

  It had been so long since I’d seen any of their faces. Benjamin ran to me too, I picked him up with my free arm and hugged them both closely. It was an amazing feeling to feel sorely missed.

  Tess couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw me. With one hand over her mouth and tears streaming from her eyes, she put her other hand on my face to make sure I was really there. I put the two boys down and pulled her close. Her parents still didn’t know about our relationship, but I didn’t care anymore. I hugged her tightly anyway. She meant the world to me.

  I could feel her body jerk in unison with her sobbing. She looked up at me with those beautiful brown eyes I loved so much. I smiled wide. After so many weeks of wishing and hoping, I didn’t have to dream of this moment any longer. This was real. She was real.

  “I made a promise,” I said, wiping her tears away with my thumb. She laughed and choked on her conflicting emotions.

  “I’m glad you boys are home safe,” Mr. Redman said, shaking my hand.

  “I never would’ve made it home alive if it wasn’t for Colton,” Alex said.

  Upon hearing that, Mrs. Redman did something I never thought she would do. She hugged me, kissed me on the cheek and thanked me for bringing her son home.