NEXT BEST HOPE (The Revelation Trilogy) Read Free Page A

relationship,” Leadoff said.
    “Don’t underestimate him. We were good kids. He has a quick mind, studied hard, and distinguished himself. But his ambition was to go home to the cotton patch and take over the family farm from his dad. His professors directed him down a research track, but he broke out of that discipline and began innovating techniques for farming. Before you knew it, he was a national leader in farming practices, in demand by all the big corporations who wanted to utilize his ideas to expand farming operations around the country. Ironically, his efforts greatly advanced the demise of the small farm like the one his dad had. So when he got ready to go home, there was no farm to go home to.”
    “I guess that explains his populist stand,” Leadoff said.
    “Yeah. He doesn’t want family farmers to disappear, so he is, or was, trying to reverse the trend. Who knows what will happen to the farmers now. The president appointed him Secretary of Agriculture because of his distinguished record as an innovator, because he was a friend of the farmer, and because he was a known quantity in the corporate community. Little did he know that he was anointing his successor,” Ert said.
    “How long are we supposed to stay in Washington, you reckon?” Leadoff asked.
    “I think we have to see how the first round of discussions goes with Bass’ advisors, and then we can re-assess the situation. Beth isn’t going to want to relocate.”
    “Neither do I if I can avoid it,” Leadoff said. “I have some cases I need to be working on.”
    “You have some cases in Kilgore, Texas, that are more important than serving as a personal advisor to the president of the United States in the middle of a national crisis?” Ert said.
    “Forget I said that,” Leadoff said as he left money, including a generous tip, on the table for the check and stood up to go. “Let’s get to the national security briefing,” he said as he stood up and walked towards the exit. On the sidewalk, he hailed a black government sedan parked on the street corner, which immediately rolled to the curb and opened its doors to them. “This part I could get used to,” Leadoff said, sliding into the back passenger seat.
    At the White House, Bascom Whitfield had cobbled together an assembly of ordinary people called upon to perform extraordinary tasks. He had relied on little more than his bare instinct to fill government positions that traditionally were rewards for years of Washington ass-kissing. His temporary Cabinet bore such slight resemblance to his predecessor’s that the media had already dubbed it the “Bass Cab.”
    As acting Attorney General, he had picked Lincoln “Link” Jefferson, a man who had distinguished himself as a straight shooter, incorruptible to the core. Ert and Leadoff had seen him in action and knew he was a person a man could trust, an independent thinker who would call a situation as he saw it.
    When the East Texas lawyers arrived at the White House, the staff escorted them to the Situation Room, where they stood elbow to elbow with the President, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and all the new acting heads of the various departments Bass Whitfield had appointed over the course of the last three days. President Whitfield motioned them to sit one on his right and the other on his left hand and began the discussion.
    “We are here to re-constitute the union,” he began. “Our enemies have sought to deliver a fatal blow to us, and they have failed. They will have hell to pay for it when the time comes. In the meantime, we must stay the course, encourage the American people, and let them know that those who oppose our democracy will never prevail by means of terror and intimidation. We will hunt down the perpetrators of these heinous crimes and make sure that they pay for their deeds according to the mandates of American law,” he said.
    The room was silent for a minute before a spontaneous standing ovation arose from