"I give you orders, General. You do not order me," Fall nearly shouted.

"I advised President Wilson to reject this mandate. He did not. With Wilson gone, President Harding refuses to send more troops, and yet you block a diplomatic solution with Mustafa Kemal. The American Mandate is over, Governor."

"I am not here to surrender American interests to a wog," Fall said, his New Mexico drawl thicker as his voice rose again. He pulled out a cigar and lit it, not offering one to Pershing or Butler.

"You don't defend American interests, Governor. You defend American companies," Butler said. "You ordered the sultan to revoke European oil concessions and give them to Americans. There is a price for that. The French signed a treaty with Kemal last year. The British are about to. You have isolated us from European help to defend your racket."

"We do not need Europe, General Butler. You didn't run from the Niggers in Haiti. Why do you run from the Turks?" Fall puffed a cloud of cigar smoke into the air.

Butler spun and walked to the far side of the room so as not to strike the politician. Fall's voice rose behind him, "General Pershing, remove this man from his command."

"No, Governor, I shall not."

As Fall stalked from the guard shack, Butler stepped back to Pershing. "My apology for losing my temper, sir."

"None needed, General Butler." A smile softened Pershing's expression for an instant. "You have, I hope, informed your father and the Naval Affairs Committee he chairs of developments here?"

"Yes, sir. I am told Harding still loves the man. Mister Fall raised much money for the party."

"Money is power, General, but I too have contacted friends in Washington." Pershing coughed heavily, clearing the tightness from his lungs. "I will not have my men die in this city to save Albert Fall and his cronies a few dollars."