Chapter I- Standing Relieved

William Krieger ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, leaning back in the leather chair that had been a fixture in his office for the past ten years. Brought from somewhere in Europe, the chair had followed Krieger through the labyrinthine mazes of the Pentagon and on to the headquarters of the Marine Corps in Quantico, Virginia. Krieger had been in the Corps for over forty years, and had been the man in charge of the Psi-operations division of the United States government, Mindgate, for a full decade. He'd received more than fifty decorations, including some thirteen solely for combat actions, and become a qualified Marine parachutist and naval aviator. From his actions as a young captain on the battlefields that lined the road to victory in Korea and Vietnam to his personally commanding the 1st Marine Division when it invaded Libya in 2003, William Krieger had not taken long in becoming a household name. Upon his promotion to Brigadier General he was already famous, a rising star in the Marines. By the time he received his fourth star, he was truly famous, a household name in the United States. By the time he received his fifth, he was a legend.

Krieger's hair was as short as any Parris Island DI's, and he still went on a three-mile run and did a hundred pushups without stopping every morning. He was still lean and mean, and few would dare point out that he was slowly becoming an older Marine. Krieger's scarred, almost leathery face, normally tough-looking and solemn, twisted unpleasantly when he thought of getting old. If age- or death- ever expected to come for William Krieger one day, they'd both better come armed. Some journalist had once found a predecessor's remark about Teddy Roosevelt; the one about how "death had to take him sleeping; if it had tried to take him awake there would have been a fight."

William Krieger had seen that remark applied to him by a few journalists since that discovery had been made; many generations of American boys had posters of Krieger on their walls, in full glory with his dress blues and medals. Lots of medals. And countless boys had looked up at the stern, undefiable image of General of the Marine Corps William Krieger and thought with a special kind of awe: If death tries to take him sleeping, he'll get ambushed before he gets to the bedroom.

Yes, William Krieger had been quite a hero to the American people, an icon of how no other military in the world could do for even a day what the United States Marine Corps did for a living. But things were different now. Krieger's life was taking a new direction, one that was forcing him to leave the Corps behind.

That brought Krieger's mind back to the how and why of his still sitting in his large but spartan Quantico, Virginia at 2120 at night. Krieger had worked late before, but this was different. Even glancing in the heavy oak door to the General's office, one would have known that immediately. He sat behind the large wood desk, the reading over the framed citation for his first Navy Cross, the one that had set him on the road to being hailed as the Corp's Patton, the greatest Marine since Chesty Puller.

There was nothing else on his desk, though, save a pair of desk-sized flags, one for the US and one for the Corps, on the left and right corners. Normally, there would have been paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. There would have been a stack labeled IN and another for OUT, and a desk lamp for when the General was working late into the night. But while Krieger had tolerated paperwork during his years as a general in the Marines, during the Second Korean War- and the war with China that followed it- he had tired of it now.

Some of his many files and papers had been burned tonight, the ashes swept away into the trash can beside Krieger's desk. All the rest sat, neatly ordered, in the many file cabinets that lined the wall behind the Corps' first five-star officer. Krieger had earned his rank, earned his four years as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and nomination to simultaneously command the Corps and Mindgate. For a time, it seemed that William Krieger, a man who personified the grizzled, tougher-than-hell's-demons image a Marine officer was supposed to project, would just keep on rising. It had looked like he would keep climbing up, keep achieving new heights of greatness and continue to be rewarded with greater and greater glory.

But then some Senator, some son of a bitch from Ohio who had never fired a weapon in his life, had gotten up in Congress one day and said a general- even The General- holding such power in both the Corps and the US Government was unlawful… or that it should be. And right at the same time, about a year or two ago, somebody else had asked why the hell Mindgate even existed anymore. The Soviets were gone, and Red China beaten, kept closely in check by strong, pro-American governments in both a united Korea and Vietnam. Why, both these politicians and an increasing number had asked, was a general, any general, holding such immense power when five-star officers were clearly no longer needed? General Krieger had struggled- all but physically fought with himself- to keep from climbing over the table and punching the hell out of all those fatcats in their fancy suits during the Congressional hearings that had followed.

Peter Ferguson, Chairman of the Armed Forces Subcommittee, had recognized the highly-decorated general's contempt for the politicians. He'd even had the gall to taunt Krieger at times, to try to bring his hatred for bureaucrats out and just add to the evidence more and more being used to dig the grave of William Krieger's career.

The fact that Marines the world over loved Krieger and would follow him anywhere only made Ferguson dislike the general more- and it made some start to wonder. And whisper. Word was starting to get around that The General, once a household name for the best of reasons and the hero and idol of many, held more power than perhaps any one man ever should. With simultaneous five-star rank and command of the Marine Corps and Mindgate, he was the undisputed leader of thousands of death-dealing Devil Dogs who obeyed him without question… and of hundreds of men, women and children whose most powerful members could lift trains and set forests ablaze- all without ever moving a finger. By the time those hearings were going on in 2002, questions were getting asked. And not the kind that went on in the halls inhabited by those overpaid fools in Congress, either- people, even in the public, were starting to whisper. People were starting to wonder if Krieger would never be satisfied with power as a general in the Marine Corps, and decide he wanted to become President… whether the people voted for him or not. Some members of the public, no longer merely that son of a bitch Ferguson and his buddies leading the witchhunt, were starting to whisper that William Krieger might be a dangerous man.

Krieger was famous for his remark, made when he was personally leading the assault on Tripoli in 2000. A reporter, braving the roar of the choppers and the not-so-distant tanks and artillery fire, had asked Krieger what he thought of all the killing and maiming going on at that very moment. Krieger, staring off towards the battle he yearned to be in the middle of at that very instant, had shrugged under the weight of his Kevlar vest and helmet. "I don't believe in sending men to kill and maim- I do believe in leading men into battle myself, so I can kill and maim alongside them."

Major General Krieger had added that war was indeed hell as Sherman had said, and that the only way a Marine knew how to fight was by raising hell as much as possible, with the responsibility of the officers being to lead the hell-raising. But it was his first words that the reporter focused on in his column the next day, and it was those words that were still famous. General William Krieger had become "Death-Dealing Krieger", the "Mad Dog", the commander who liked wading right into the thick of battle himself so he could raise hell beside his men. Krieger had not much cared for either nickname, but his men had taken to both, and certainly his popularity with Marines had only gone up once his personal participation in battles in Libya became public.

The paperwork was all locked up tonight for one reason- William Krieger had no need for it anymore. Someone else would have to be chosen to occupy this office, starting tomorrow. Krieger had devoted his life to the Corps, and gained as much power as any Marine ever born had held in it. But that was coming to an end. The Corps would have to carry on without him, and soon.

Reverently referred to as "The General" with a capital T even in his presence, Krieger awed lesser men- and countless Marines- with his presence. He'd been an officer his whole career, yet he swore and loathed paperwork, bureaucracy, and vain, incompetent officers as much as any private. He'd hidden the vast heaps of promotions, general orders and so many other things tonight for the same reason he now had the citation for his first Navy Cross on his desk. Krieger wanted that framed piece of paper, bearing an image of the medal above the paragraphs describing his selfless act during the Battle of Hanoi- an act which included but did not end with Krieger personally disabling three enemy tanks- to prove a point. Krieger wanted those sons of bitches who were trying to bring him down, to deprive him of the power he'd spent a lifetime trying to build, to come in here tomorrow and see it. He wanted everyone to remember the magnificent soldier they'd once hailed William Krieger to be, and to realise, in time, how foolish they'd been in throwing his talent away.

Mindgate had been the catalyst, the straw that broke the camel's back. In investigating the mysterious and secretive government agency, members of the FBI had stumbled across incontrovertible evidence that General Krieger was not only refusing to in any way curb the agency's operations or funding, but actually increasing it through funds that by all rights didn't exist. The General had been unveiled as a criminal, a man who disobeyed his orders and pursued an agenda all of his own making. That had finished him in the eyes of the Committee, and the public had howled for his head.

Images flashed through his mind, most notably today's- July 17th, 2003- with the words "KRIEGER DISMISSED!" thundering at the top of the Washington Post's front page.

Krieger had left a meeting with the President just the previous morning. The Commander-in-Chief had told Krieger, in no uncertain terms, that he was going up against charges for overstepping his authority. It might be better, Krieger had been told, if he took the retirement he'd been staving off for so long. Krieger had refused- he would never let go of the Corps until he'd got what he wanted from Mindgate. He was close. So damn close… but the FBI finding the evidence of his actions had forced Krieger's hand. Krieger refused to step down, so the President had fired him. Too bad. Krieger hadn't voted for the man anyway.