It would seem, gentlemen, that we aren’t on the target list.”
Those words were followed by a quiet but ubiquitous murmur as the men addressed each other. That gave Charles a chance to say to the lieutenant colonel, who stood beside him, “What are the scarlet flags?”
“H-bombs.”
Chuck felt sick. He didn’t answer.
Now, to his astonishment, a civilian pushed out from the crowd. Chuck recognized him, though he was ash-pale, almost blue-lipped and his features were screwed up with the torture of his fears and his determination. It was River City’s Mayor Clyde. “I repeat, General,” he said almost in a shout, “if we are not yet threatened, we must maintain Condition Yellow! You start those sirens and you sign the death warrant of maybe a thousand people. Great God! The whole population and the county around is jammed downtown, and they’d panic!”
The general followed the mayor and the men parted to make a clear path. “I know. I know. And decision here depends only on emergency. Nothing has come through from the Second Army. Zinsner!” he called.
The man with the headphones heard and removed them. ‘‘Yes, sir?”
“Anything from Colorado Springs?”
Zinsner spoke, inaudibly, into a mouthpiece he held in his hand, waited-while the room waited-and shook his head. “No word, sir.”
“But you have contact?”