Frank Blanchard was feeling mighty happy with himself. Sure, he had used a little tomfoolery to get some things done, but it made people like him, and the more people liked him, the easier it was to get laid. Not that it was the only reason he liked being President, but it sure didn't hurt. And now that he had been publicly successful in using Bass...as well as now having Miles indebted to him…well, Frank was pretty certain life was going to get a little easier. Hell, he might even start getting some more respect from other leaders. After all, none of them had ever been able to corral the two Generals. Yes indeedy, that honor belonged to only one person, and he was going to take full advantage of the opportunities that were about to present themselves as a result.
As Miles and Bass moved back toward the platform, Frank motioned to them to come stand beside him.
"Gentlemen, it's been a real pleasure working with you. Bass, I'm sure our paths will cross again, especially after word of your talent gets out. You can thank me later." Giving him a wink and a nod, Frank turned to Miles.
"Miles, I'm looking forward to your future missions for me."
"Missions? What the hell, Frank? You said you had one thing for me to do for you. One thing, not several, and you still haven't told me what it is." Miles all but sputtered at him.
"Now, Miles. Don't go getting your panties in a twist. If you think back, I said I had a little something I needed your help with. I didn't say it was just one thing." Frank grinned over his shoulder at a visibly angry Miles. "Now calm down a bit, and let's get this party started! We'll talk soon enough."
Turning to Bass, Miles ground out, "Could this day get any better? First, you share your little bit of shit news and now this crap from Frank. Bass….Bass…are you even listening to me?"
Wishing he were anywhere but here, Bass was paying no attention to Miles or to Frank. As Frank droned on, all Bass could think about was the exposure that was about to come his way. He had succeeded in life in large part due to his hard ass reputation. He was thorough and brutal when necessary. His ability to focus and see the larger picture had saved many people even as it had caused the deaths of others. While some might not agree with all of his methods, he had earned the grudging respect of Texas because of those efforts. All of that was about to go down the tubes once the mural was unveiled because, for the first time in a long while, Bass had truly put his heart into something.
Watching from the other side of the square, Charlie's eyes narrowed as she noticed the tension in Bass's body. After leaving the bar, she had run into another former student and decided to at least stick around for the grand unveiling. After all, she had been putting up with his presence in her house for months. She deserved to see what he had been up to all that time especially since he had been so close-mouthed. The way he was looking right now made her think this was going to be a spectacular failure and a part of her wanted to be close just in case he needed her. That was a laugh, though, because when had Bass ever truly needed her for anything.
Frank had finally reached the end of his speech. Lifting his hand, he motioned to his soldiers to pull down the tarps. Bass had requested that they be pulled down sequentially to give people a chance to take in each panel before the next was unveiled.
As the first tarp fluttered to the ground, silence abounded. A gray, desolate Willoughby stood before the townspeople, as much a victim of the war as they were.
Glaring at Bass, Frank spat out his words. "What is that crap, Monroe? You're supposed to beautify the town, not kill it."
Ignoring him, Bass raised his hand to the soldiers indicating that the second tarp could come down. Willoughby appeared again, but this time the sun was starting to peak out and a hint of brightness started to shine down. By now, a low hum could be heard as people tried to figure out what was going.
The third tarp suddenly dropped and everyone was treated to a town square showing life again. Vibrant colors, businesses opening, a community garden and people everywhere with smiles on their faces. The murmuring grew louder as people started to realize that Bass had actually drawn individual faces and everyone shifted to see if he might have captured their likeness on the mural.
Swallowing hard, Bass waved his hand for the final tarp to come down. A bright moon hung over the town, bathing the square in its gentle light and highlighting the peace that had finally taken root. Candles glowed in windows as children chased fireflies in the square and people sat at outdoor tables listening to a small band. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.
A small noise started in the middle of the people looking at the mural. Another one joined, and then another one, and soon the entire square was clapping and cheering what was very obviously a labor of love from General Sebastian Monroe. No one could believe he had done it, and yet the proof was right there in front of their eyes. The big bad general had actually surprised everyone, and in a very good way.
Still on the platform, Miles narrowed his eyes at Bass. "I still can't believe you pulled that shit, you moron. How long until you think anyone notices?"
Frank turned around. "Huh? Notices what, Miles?"
And then he heard the first comment from the square. "Holy shit. Is that moon an ass?" "No way." "I knew it. No way could he do something that nice." "Once a jerk, always a jerk."
Moving his eyes up to take a better look at the moon on the final panel, Frank started laughing. "Good on you, Bass. That's one way to say 'fuck you' and let everyone know you didn't want to paint that mural. Did you model it after yourself?" Frank took another look. "Wait a minute, I know that ass. Nicely rounded, small "M" freckled above her crack…If I'm not mistaken, it belongs to one Miss C King. Am I right?"
A pained silence met his pronouncement.
"How would you even know that, Frank? Unless you spied on my niece while she was working an honest job trying to earn money as a model because you didn't pay her what she was really worth?" Already mad after Bass had shared with him the story of the moon over Willoughby, Miles didn't think twice about punching Frank in the face as he realized that Frank had used Miss Pansy Pettigrew's School of Culture and Etiquette as his own personal peep show…and that he had known exactly who Charlie was when she modeled.
Once again, Frank held up his hand to stop his guards as they rushed to grab Miles. "Leave him alone boys. He earned this one just like Bass earned the other one, but I'm telling you both now. No more. You've made your points, and I've made mine. I'm heading back to Austin. Miles, I'll be in touch." With a half-hearted wave and a shit eating grin on his bruised face, Frank moved off the platform and was hustled through the crowd by his body guards.
