At first there had been rumors that the Army of the Potomac would be folded into Grant's new Army of the Susquehanna. Congressional pressure was putting a stop to that Grant was bringing Westerners in to fill up his new army. Eastern congressmen and senators weren't about to have the East's contribution to the Union cause submerged in a western command.

Lincoln was being forced to accept that. There would have to be a reconstituted Army of the Potomac which, yes, would serve under Grant, but which must have its own commander. Now Lincoln was considering whom to appoint to that position.

That hash would be settled before the week was out, of that he was certain. In the end Lincoln would have to turn to him to command the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln needed the War Democrats more than ever, and Dan was their candidate to command the Army of the Potomac. Yes, he thought to himself with satisfaction, in the end it will come out just fine and I will command the army.

Once he was in command and the army reconstituted, the stage would be set for him to whip Bobbie Lee… that would end the war as it should be ended.

Reaching Twenty-third Street and the intersection of Fifth Avenue and Broadway, he saw a knot of men, infantry, a section of guns, two bronze Napoleons, a troop of cavalry, and an ornate, black-lacquered, four-horse carriage, curtains drawn, a militia colonel leaning against the side of it, talking with someone inside. At his approach the colonel stiffened, saluted, and whispered a comment.

The door to the carriage popped open and Dan stepped in, the carriage swaying slightly as he settled in across from Tweed. The carriage was filled with cigar smoke and the scent of whiskey.

"Have you seen the reports?" Tweed snapped angrily, waving a sheaf of papers.

"Which reports?"

"My God, Dan, it states here that over two thousand bodies have been picked up for burial. They're getting hauled over to Brooklyn, even loaded into barges to get dumped at sea."

"Fine. Two thousand less ruffians terrorizing the streets."

"This will cost us a hundred thousand votes, Sickles. They'll blame us!"

"Not when I'm done," Sickles replied calmly.

"The war was a Republican war. We could always hang that on them. But now?"

"We can still do that. I was acting under orders, Tweed. Did my military duty."

"But two thousand dead. The entire Five Points burned to the ground. And what's this about military executions?"

"I wouldn't call it that. Military executions are for soldiers. These were secret agents, insurgents hiding in civilian garb."

'Two thousand of them?"

"Goddamn it, Tweed, what the hell would you have me do? Slap them on the wrist? Give mem a nursery bottle filled with brandy and send them home to their mommas? This is a war, damn it A war."

He shouted the last words, and Tweed, slightly intimidated, fell back into his seat.

"You don't see the broader picture. Back up on Fifth Avenue a girl gave me a flower."

"Channing sentiment, did you get her name?"

"You don't see it. To those Uptown I'm the savior this morning. Not a Republican, just a general doing his duty. Besides, we broke the back of the gangs that have terrorized this city for too long. They're on the run now and I plan to drive them straight into the East River and the Hudson. The average citizen of this town will turn out a week from now and offer us a victory parade. The times are changing, Tweed; this is a new age, an age of power, of industry, of the men who drive them. We saved their hides and they will remember that; I will be certain to remind them when the time comes."

Tweed said nothing.

"We can still play the lower classes, and the best way to do that is to bring this war to its conclusion without the draft. Hang that on the Republicans, that they let it drag on too long, they created the draft while lining their pockets from it and all the wartime graft. We will end the war and then see who is in the White House after the next election."

Tweed puffed on his cigar.

"You heard about Washington?"

"That Lee is attacking."

"That's the word."

"Just rumor for now, but he does have to strike and do it now."

"And if it falls?"

"Heintzelman is no genius, but he's no fool. Put twenty-five thousand into those fortifications and even he can hold it, as long as he doesn't panic."

"But Lee."

"Goddamn it. Everyone always talks about Lee. He can't fly over the fortifications, he has to go through them and it will cost him. All I am worried about now is getting confirmed as the new commander of the Army of the Potomac."

"It's a wreck, Sickles."

"It's all we got now here in the East. Do you think Grant will give me a command? I doubt it. In three months' time those damn Westerners will be dominating this entire region. I need that army command now. I need to act now, to achieve what we should have achieved in front of Gettysburg, or even, before it was thrown away completely, at Union Mills. I need that army, Tweed, and you will put the best face on what happened here in New York and make sure it happens."

"The governor is furious over the destruction and the losses. Said you were like Napoleon in Moscow."

"Well, maybe this country needs a Napoleon right now," Sickles snapped.

He hesitated, pulling back the curtain to look outside, suddenly fearful that one of the reporters might have heard. They were milling about, talking with the militia colonel, no one looking this way.

He looked back at Tweed and smiled.

"Just tell the governor that in a month this will be forgotten, especially after I've personally defeated Lee and put an end to this war. And when I am in the White House, his state and our city are going to be taken care of, really taken care

of.'

He smiled and patted Tweed's arm.

In Front of Fort Stevens

July 18 1863

6.45am

“General Hood, is your old division finally ready to go in”

Lee looked at his corps commander with unveiled exasperation. The attack was supposed to have been launched with three full divisions in place, instead only two had been ready to go before dawn, and even then, Perrin's division had taken a full hour longer than expected to attack. The third division, Hood's old command, was only now completing its deployment off the road.

"General, the road is a nightmare; I still don't have Law's brigade in place."

"Send everything you have in now or we shall lose our chance!" Lee snapped.

Hood looked over at Colonel Taylor, Lee's most trusted adjutant Taylor gazed back with unfocused eyes, as if he wasn't there.

"General Lee, the attack is failing. I ask that we hold my division back."

"No, sir. You will commit immediately." Hood hesitated.

"Now, General! Now! We've lost two divisions trying to breech their line. Are you telling me that the sacrifice is to be wasted? One more push and we break through."

Hood said nothing. Looking past Lee he saw General Longstreet approach, without fanfare, mount covered in sweat and dismount

"Have we taken it?" Longstreet asked.

"No, we have not taken it," Lee replied sharply, "yet"

Longstreet nodded sagely, saying nothing, looking over at Hood.

"It was not coordinated as well as we could have wished," Hood said softly. "Night attacks on this scale are simply impossible to coordinate well in the dark and the mud."

Lee looked at him sharply and the commander of the Second Corps fell silent.

"You have my orders, General Hood, now execute them."

Hood saluted and without further argument left the grove, his staff running before him, the deployed troops coming to their feet. There was no cheering now, but the men were game, ready for what was ahead.