Chiun dismissed it with a flutter of fingernails. "It is new. It is nothing compared with the faded glory of the Rome of Caesar."
"Aren't they expecting us?"
"No. He is expecting us."
And through the windshield, Remo saw a sight that made his mouth go dry. An ornate dome.
"Oh, tell me it isn't true," he moaned.
"It is true."
"It looks like the Vatican. Tell me it's not the Vatican."
"It is," the Master of Sinanju said joyfully, "Rome."
Chapter Twenty-three
The chief of staff of the United States Army was attempting to explain the disposition of CONUS forces to his Commander in Chief.
It was day two. They were in the Situation Room in the White House basement. The President was squinting at a big map of the continental U.S. The more he squinted, the bigger his nose seemed to get. But he was trying. He was really trying, so the Joint Chiefs of Staff were determined to walk him through the briefing no matter how much Excedrin was involved.
"The Mexican forces are arrayed exactly where they were yesterday," the Army chief of staff was saying as he tapped a series of green triangles wavering just under the southern U.S. border.
"They're waiting for something!" the President suggested.
In a corner the chairman of the JCS stifled a groan. He had started the briefing three hours earlier, continuing until the President's stultifying thickheadedness had worn him down.
The Army chief of staff cleared his throat and swung the pointer upward. "They are not a threat, Mr. President."
"Not an immediate threat."
"Not a threat at all," the Army chief repeated firmly. "Let me direct your attention to our disposition of forces."
The President looked interested. Or astigmatic. Possibly both.
"This map shows the CONUS—"
The President lifted his hand as if in school. "Who renamed the nation?" he asked.
"No one. CONUS stands for Continental United States."
"Oh."
"Now, as I was saying, this map is broken down into CONUS armies."
"We have more than one?"
"If you'll read the legend, you'll see we have four entire armies headquartered in the nation. The First Army, headquartered in Fort George G. Meade, the Second in Fort Gillem, the Fifth is quartered in Fort Sam Houston and the Sixth is presently based in Colorado."
The President looked troubled. "Where are the Third and Fourth armies?"
"The Fourth, Mr. President, is inactive."
"Well, activate them. We may need every jackboot."
"That's 'man jack,'" the commandant of the Marine Corps muttered under his breath.
"You don't understand, Mr. President," the Army chief of staff resumed with an angry glance at the Marine commandant. "There's is no Fourth Army. They were—"
"Decommissioned?"
The secretary of the Navy began dry-washing his face with his red hands.
"'Deactivated' is the Army's preferred terminology. They don't exist anymore. Forget I brought them up."
"Wait a minute. Why don't we—"
"Reconstitute?" the Army chief said hopefully.
The President quietly scribbled down the new word. He had a five-page list now. He also knew the difference between a brigade and a division. Although he much preferred the sound of brigade, it was actually a smaller, less formidable force than a division.
"Yeah. Reconstitute."
"No time. Not enough volunteers, and I don't think you want to talk about a draft, do you?"
"Definitely not," the President said.
"Thought not."
Around the room smiles were suppressed, producing extremely grave expressions that the President personally admired and reminded himself to practice before the mirror next chance he got.
"Now, for our purposes we are concerned only with the Sixth Army, whose—"
"Domain?"
"Let's say 'domain.' I like that. Their domain is the far western CONUS, and they will have the responsibility for safeguarding California and Arizona."
"Can't lose those. Think of the electoral votes."
"The Fifth Army, which is responsible for those areas extending south from Nebraska to include the border states of New Mexico and Texas, will of course guarantee the sanctity of those border states."
"I still think we need another army___" the President lamented.
"And you're right," the Army chief of staff said, bursting into a great big smile. "Isn't he right, men?"
The JCS agreed the President was right.