Mike’s scowl deepened. “It’s that bad?” Horner only smiled like that when the fecal matter had well and truly hit the fan. The last time O’Neal had seen that smile was the beginning of a very unpleasant experience. It suddenly made him sorry he had given up tobacco.
“Worse,” said the general. “Mike, this is not for dissemination, whether you choose to stay or not. I need your word on that right now.” He leaned back in his swivel chair, affecting a relaxed posture but with tension screaming in every line.
“Okay,” said Mike and leaned forward. It suddenly seemed like a perfect time to reacquire a habit. He opened his recent gift to the general and extracted a cigar without asking.
Horner leaned forward in his chair and lit the cigar at the former NCO’s lifted eyebrow. Then he leaned back and continued the briefing.
“You and about every other son of a bitch who’s ever worn a uniform is about to be recalled.” The smile never left his face and there was now a hint of teeth to it.
Mike was so stunned he forgot to draw on the cigar. He felt his stomach lurch and broke out in a cold sweat. “What the hell’s happening? Did we go to war with China or something?” He started to draw on the flame but the combination of surprise and trying to light a cigar caused him to choke. He put the cigar down in frustration and leaned forward.
“I can’t get into why until the meeting,” said the general, putting away his lighter. “But, right now, I’ve got a blank check. I can bring you in on a direct commission…”