Page 25 of Eruption
“General Arthur Bennett. Do you know him?”
MacGregor frowned. “No, I don’t think so.”
“He’s retired now. Perhaps you met him in the past. General Bennett was in charge of all army training installations in the Pacific from 1981 to 2012.”
“I wouldn’t know him, then. I didn’t come here until 2018,” MacGregor said.
“That’s very odd, because he definitely seems to know you.”
“Did he say he knows me?”
“Unfortunately, the general suffered a stroke that left him with one-sided weakness and an inability to speak. But his cognitive functions are still intact. That’s why we thought you might know him. Or know about him.”
Mac took the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a moment. He wondered if Lieutenant Craig had dialed him by mistake.
“I’m sorry,” MacGregor said. “Do you have the right person? I’m a geologist with—”
“The Hawaiian Volcano Observatory. Yes, sir. We know who you are. Sir, do you know a Colonel Briggs?”
“No, I don’t know him either,” MacGregor said. “What is this about?” He glanced at the television—they were showing footage from the Merrie Monarch Festival’s hula competition in Hilo.
There was a knock at his front door. MacGregor glanced at his watch and said, “Can you hold on? Someone’s at my door.”
“That will be the car we’ve sent for you, sir.”
“Thecaryou’ve sent for me?”What the hell?
“Colonel Briggs has arranged transportation for you from Lyman. The car will take you there now. Colonel Briggs will see you in an hour.”
“See me where?”
“Honolulu, sir. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”
In the empty house, his voice sounded much too loud when he said, “Yes,sir.”
CHAPTER 17
Kalani VA Hospital, Honolulu, Hawai‘i
Time to eruption: 108 hours
Rain drummed on the roof of the blue sedan as it drove through the stone gates and up the long drive. Through the sweep of windshield wipers, MacGregor saw the lights of the main building directly ahead. When the car pulled up under the canopy, three uniformed men stood waiting. They opened the door for MacGregor, and the senior man extended his hand.
For the second time that day, John MacGregor felt as if he were traveling into the unknown. Despite what he did for a living, he hated surprises. This, he thought, was a different kind of crater.
“Dr. MacGregor? I’m Major Jepson. This way, please.”
Jepson was a short, trim man with an equally trim mustache that could have been military-issue. He walked briskly down the corridor, glancing at his watch.
When they reached a room at the end of the corridor, Jepson opened the door.
“General Bennett?” he said in a tone that suggested he was delivering the day’s best news. “I have somebody special to see you, sir.” He motioned for MacGregor to follow him in.
General Arthur Bennett looked as frail and slender as a leaf; he was deathly pale, propped up in bed on enormous pillows. An IV line was in his arm. His head hung down, and he stared at the floor; one side of his face was slack, and his mouth hung open. The room smelled of disinfectant. The TV was on but muted.
“General, I’ve brought Dr. MacGregor.”
He sounds like he’s telling a five-year-old that he’s brought Santa Claus,Mac thought.
