Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [22]
“Thank you for the offer. I am honored, sir. But, well, these men are volunteers, they have wives . . . families. Your soldiers here . . . the marines . . . are paid for this sort of thing, are they not?”
Lee looked at the fat face, lit by dim firelight. “Of course, Colonel. The marines will handle this.”
Lee saw Green placing his men, waited until he had completed the job, then motioned to Stuart to join him with the young marine.
“Lieutenant Green, I want you to pick out a dozen men, good men. They will be the assault team. Lieutenant Stuart, I will prepare a message to the insurrectionists, which you will deliver. It will say that they are surrounded, and I will guarantee their safety, and so forth. When they accept the terms, the marines will move in quickly and subdue the men, removing their weapons. Once they understand the hopelessness of their situation, this should end quickly. Now, post guards, Mr. Green. Let the others get some sleep. We will talk again at daylight.”
There was a commotion down the line, a marine guard held a man roughly by the arm, brought him toward the officers.
“Excuse me, Colonel, Lieutenant. This man claims to have information.”
Green excused his man, and Lee watched the civilian in lamplight, adjusting himself from the gruff treatment by the marine.
“Colonel, my name is Fulton, I’m a newspaperman, from Philadelphia. I know who your man is, there.” He pointed toward the engine house.
“How do you know, Mr. Fulton?” Lee asked. He looked the man over, saw a good suit, dark gray wool, like his own.
“I’ve been in Kansas, covering the trouble there. I have interviewed many of the insurrectionists, Colonel, they seem to favor reporters. I suppose we provide them a soapbox, if you will. Colonel, I have no doubt that the man you are facing is Mr. John Brown.”
It was a name faintly familiar to Lee, did not carry great weight. But Stuart said, “John Brown? Here?”
Lee looked at Stuart, heard the pitch in his voice. “What do you know of the man, Lieutenant?”
“He is trouble, Colonel. He led some of the radical antislavery people out West. Slipped through our fingers more than once.”
Fulton said, “He is a violent man, Colonel, a man who will not hesitate to kill himself and everyone around him for his cause.”
“He’s right, Colonel. Brown is . . . well, I think he’s crazy. Wants the slaves to rise up, thinks he can start a revolution. I saw a paper, something he spread all over Kansas, telling the white people, his own people . . . they were all going to die.”
Lee stared at Stuart, let it sink in. “Mr. Fulton,” he said, “how can you be so certain?”
“Colonel, I’ve been following Brown for some time, written a few stories about him. He didn’t seem to mind me snooping around. I knew he was headed this way, might try for the Arsenal.”
Stuart’s voice rose. “You knew he was coming here, and you didn’t warn anybody?”
Lee put a hand on Stuart’s arm, said, “We’re here now, gentlemen, let’s work on solving our situation here. Mr. Fulton, thank you, you are excused.”
“Thank you, Colonel. Best of luck.” Then the man slid away, was gone in the dark.
Lee thought of the hostages. His mind began to work, he absorbed the new information, the uncertainty of a man like Brown. His simple plan might result in a bloodbath. He felt his stomach tighten, a chill in the cool night.
“Gentlemen, this is a new situation. Our priority is the safety of the hostages. Lieutenant Stuart, if Mr. Brown rejects the terms, and I suspect he will, you are not to negotiate. The marines must storm the entrance immediately.”
Both men nodded approval, and Green said, “Sir. Begging your pardon, sir, but we need a signal, something to tell us when to move.”
Lee looked at Stuart, who touched his hat.
“If they . . . if Brown rejects the surrender,” Stuart