"I understand, sir." Shaw saluted.

"Sergeant, where's your phone?"

Cooper pointed to a low wooden shack. "Inside, General."

Butler stepped into the small guard post, his boots clicking on the plank floor. He cranked the handle on the phone.

"Headquarters, Lieutenant Zack."

"General Butler here. Is the garrison on alert?"

"No, sir. Not without Colonel Patton's orders. I'm trying to reach him, sir."

"Where is Colonel Patton?"

"Not quite sure, sir. He's playing a polo match against the wogs, General, over in Stamboul." The answer came with obvious reluctance. "Civilizing them, he said."

Smedley Butler took off his broad-brimmed campaign hat for a moment and wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, brushing his dark hair back, using the gesture to bring his temper under control. "Full alert. Now. Send the Army to reinforce the perimeter."

"Yes, sir."

"Marine riot squads into the streets. If the residents of Stamboul see this as a signal to attack foreigners, the sultan's police won't stop them. Send every vehicle you can spare to move the wounded to hospital."

"Yes, sir, General."

"Damn Patton!" Butler said in a harsh whisper as he walked from the building. "Aristocratic bastard should be on duty, not playing polo. No wonder the Turks ambushed him in Armenia."

"We finally have some ambulances, sir." Sergeant Cooper saluted. "And the governor general's launch just landed."

Butler glanced at the flock of aides circling Fall as he walked away from his launch. The governor general's shock of white hair was like a flag in the center of the crowd. His voice, loud as always, carried his New Mexico drawl across the plaza.