Read The Mountain: An Event Group Thriller for Free Online Page B

small secretary of state to get to his point.
    “However, I was not sent to conduct an investigation as to the cause and effect of the war and what will come after for your people.”
    “If the outcome of the war will be as you say, Mr. Seward, won’t they be Mr. Lincoln’s people, not mine, nor Mr. Davis’s, but his?”
    “Just semantics, General Lee—nothing but semantics. It’s obvious through the sheer force of President Lincoln’s will your people will see far more leniency than either American political parties would ever be willing to accede to on a natural basis. Too many have died.”
    “Then thank the Lord for Mr. Lincoln’s clear vision of what’s right and what’s wrong.”
    Instead of continuing the debate, Seward reached into his greatcoat and brought out a sealed envelope. As he held the letter out to Lee, the general saw the simple scrawled words on its front. It was addressed to General Lee in a flowing handwritten style that spoke of education. He accepted the letter as Seward leaned back and retrieved the teacup filled with the harsh moonshine, which in his opinion proved the southern soldier far superior in at least that area of war—drinking. Seward watched Lee turn the envelope over and examine the red wax seal securing it. The image of the American bald eagle was embedded in the wax with the nation’s motto—“ E Pluribus Unum ,” Latin for “Out of many, One.”
    The general looked at Seward as the old man sipped the harsh brew and continued to watch and gauge Lee’s reaction.
    “The battle we have just endured does not spell the end of this army, Mr. Seward. Before I open this letter from your president, I want that made perfectly clear. Until the leadership decides otherwise, I will continue to fight and the Army of Northern Virginia will do the same.”
    Seward placed the cup in the saucer and then fixed Lee with his dark eyes.
    “That is the president’s belief also, General, so perhaps you should read the letter first before you declare war all over again.”
    Lee’s eyes held those of the secretary of state for the longest time. He had always heard about Seward’s sharp tongue and now he realized just why Lincoln had chosen him as the secretary of state—the man was not made to end this war, he was appointed to see it through, and his harsh rhetoric would make that happen sooner than would have been possible with a more soft-spoken man. Seward was, Lee realized, here to ask something the secretary of state personally didn’t agree with, which intrigued Lee to no end. He knew Mr. Lincoln had ideas that were well in advance of the rest of the nation, so the message made him as curious as a schoolchild waiting for his marks. Lee broke the seal and slowly rocked as he read.
    The secretary of state noticed with raised brows when Lee’s chair suddenly stopped moving.
    William Seward accepted a refill of the burning liquid from Lee’s aide as the general read and then reread the letter. He examined the signature at the bottom and then gestured for the major to join him as he stood slowly and tiredly from the rocking chair and moved toward the back of the room. He folded the message so only the bottom portion showed and held it for Major Taylor’s perusal of the document.
    “Major, you more than anyone on my staff has seen captured communiqués from Washington, and you know the signatures of most who give orders in that mosquito-plagued city.”
    “Yes, sir, I believe I am comfortable with your assessment.”
    Lee gave him the note, being sure that only the signature was visible. The major examined the name—A. Lincoln. The flowing tilt lent credence to Lee’s assessment of an educated hand. Taylor looked up at his commander-in-chief and slowly nodded his head.
    “You are sure this is Mr. Lincoln’s signature? There is no doubt?”
    “General, either the president signed that or they have a forger in their government that could falsify my own signature in my