Edge of Honor by Richard Herman Page A

for special-weapons training. I understand the smaller, suitcase-sized ones, are very realistic.”
    At first, the general was confused, not sure what Vashin wanted. Then he understood. “A simulated weapon? That’s all you want?”
    Vashin smiled. “That’s all.”
    Prudnokov stood to leave. “I’ll see what I can do.” Geraldine escorted him out.
    Johnson stared at the image on the photograph for a few moments. The image of Little Dove smiled back at him. “Who can resurrect a dead girl?”
    Vashin shrugged his heavy shoulders. “There are no miracles.”
    The White House
    Bender processed through the southwest appointment gate and walked north on West Executive Avenue. Images of an earlier time when he was the acting national security advisor tickled his memory. A White House intern met him at the entrance to the West Wing. “Good morning, General Bender. The president is expecting you.” He walked through the west entrance and the memories were in full flood.
    “Quite a few things have changed since you were last here,” the intern said as they walked down the hall. It was an obvious statement. The heavy presence of the Secret Service was muted and while Bender knew they were present, they weren’t as visible. Other than the Marine guard at the entrance, he hadn’t seen a single military uniform. He suppressed the urge to ask if the chairman of the Joint Chiefs had to wear civilian clothes when he came to the White House.
    When they neared the Oval Office, Bender caught a glimpse of a shaggy bear of a man shambling down the quiet corridor. “I see Mr. Shaw is still here,” he ventured. There was no answer. Why does she keep that bastard around? Bender raged to himself. Politics. Nothing really changes. Especially politics . He mentally chastised himself for being so cynical about politicians. She is your commander in chief . He was honest with himself and admitted Madeline Turner was turning into a good president. But like so many other presidents before her, she had to grow into the job.
    She had been openly hostile to the military at first. But during the crisis over Okinawa, when Congress and most of her own administration had deserted her, Bender convinced her that she could rely on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It was a crash course in the bare-knuckle use of power for Turner and the steel that lay hidden behind an attractive face and pleasant manner finally emerged. Thanks to Bender, she learned how to use the military as an effective instrument of national power.
    Only Bender appreciated the irony of the situation. While he honored his oath, respected the office of thepresident, and would always be loyal to his commander in chief, he simply didn’t like Madeline Turner.
    The intern turned Bender over to Dennis who led him into the Oval Office. “Robert,” Turner said, standing to greet him, “thank you for coming.” She extended her right hand, genuinely glad to see him. He gently took her hand in his. “I think you know everyone here,” she said, looking at the four members of her National Security Advisory Group.
    Mazie Hazelton rose gracefully from her seat and walked quickly into his arms. “I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice a whisper. Bender was obviously embarrassed by Mazie’s uncharacteristic display of emotion and hesitated before folding his arms around her. The top of her head barely came to his chest. Then she was gone and back in her seat.
    A gentle smile played across the president’s face as she sat down. She motioned to a spot on the couch beside her rocking chair. “Did I see a blush there?”
    He forced a little smile but only managed to look guilty.
    She reached out and touched his arm. “Still the same.” Her words carried a soft warmth. “My unbending general.” It was the old play on his name, the unbending Bender, and, for a moment, they were friends. But then it was all back in place. She was the commander in chief and he was her subordinate. She felt his