It started about how Bob expected. First Sergeant “Snake” came to the position of attention and saluted before present what had looked like a mob of over encumbered ink blots in a cargo hold. They now looked organized, like soldiers, and they were seated in rows of cargo nets ready to go on his word. Then the First Sergeant stated to his General, “ready to go sir. Main lines attached, static lines at the ready.”

As a formality, Bob asked, “Anything else Top?”

“Sir,” Snake replied, “it is the NCOIC’s duty to report to the general that if the afore mentioned NCOIC breaks anything on this jump there is a high probability that the commanding general will receive the same, sir.”

“Duly noted,” Bob replied as he felt the plane begin to bank. Bob also noticed the crew chief at the rear of the plane. He was standing by the back ramp with his finger on the button, ready to lower it. Then the yellow light came on and the crew chief’s finger went to work. The ramp began to lower so Bob tapped into his armband computer and sent a text while he still could.

Down below, on the ground, Phil Conner heard his armband beep and he went through the formalities of actually looking at the screen, even though, he could scarcely imagine anybody else sending him a text at a time like this. After all, how often did you get to start a nuclear Armageddon? The screen said what Phil though it would. He then stepped out the doors of the barracks orderly room and blew a whistle.

The First Sergeants and officers came running out first and their men were not far behind. They formed up into company formations on their respective drill pads, were given the order of, “left face,” and then “forward march.” The American soldiers marched out of their barracks, loaded down in full combat gear, weapons slung, and formed up into a long battalion sized column that continued up the west road, away from the barracks and their motor pools.

Phil watched until he saw the Russian, Colonel Yozhikov, walking down a pathway that led between the various international barracks. The man was wearing the same dress uniform he had on earlier except, now instead of his cap he was wearing a blue United Nations helmet. The guy was kind of plump but he could stroll at a good clip. Phil went down to meet the man and, when they were face to face, Yozhikov demanded, “what is the meaning of this Colonel? Your nation was warned that…”

“We’re not violating any treaty colonel,” Phil replied. “In fact, we march down this road nearly every day. I do believe the treaty does say that we can, does it not?”

“I warn you Colonel…”

Phil also added, “and the treaty also states that if we are fired on that we do have the right to defend ourselves. Does it not?”

“Yes but..”

“Then I don’t think we have anything else to discuss,” Phil saluted, did not wait for a return, spun on his heels and rejoined the American column.

The sound of a large flying aircraft caught Yozhikov’s ears. He looked up and saw the American transport plane coming in low from the east. The Russian gulped and said, “govno, time to get inside.” He gave up his brisk walk and decided to run just as the first line of men came falling from the back of the plane.

The American security battalion had marched roughly a quarter mile from the barracks when the first parachutes started to open to their east. To their right was the old manor house that sat up high enough to see the entire installation. Beneath it were hastily prepared fortifications, holes, razor wire, and a clear field of fire all the way to the road where the Americans appeared to be marching right by them.

David Cross watched from a more permanent, reinforced concrete, bunker slit that sat not far down the hill from the main house. He had a pair of binoculars that were mounted to a fixed stand and he watched these soldiers that were just marching along as if they were in some kind of parade. “What in the hell do they think they’re doing?”

David had dug in armored cars and plenty of machineguns. None of it was good enough to take on the Bradley’s that the Americans had but, all of those vehicles were still parked down in their motor pool. The men required to operate them were walking in the opposite direction. What were they up too? Then David heard the plane. He got on the phone and called down to his command center where General Chesterfield was hyperventilating, “paratroopers! They’re bringing in reinforcements. Open fire!”

David considered what he knew. He asked the General, “how many planes sir?”

The RAF general snapped, “ONE! Do they need any more! Now engage the targets before they can use their guided munitions!”

David slapped down the phone and then grabbed a smaller pair of field binoculars as he ran out of the bunker. From the rear entrance, David had a commanding view of the valley. He saw the plane peeling off as the line of paratroopers began making contact with the ground. It was a very low level jump. David had made one at a similar altitude, many years ago. He remember stepping off the ramp and then hitting the ground. He blinked and he was down. It also hurt like hell. That’s why he mumbled, “poor sods. That had to hurt.”

Sergeant Owens was running out as David was walking back in. He had already gotten the news since Chesterfield had already called back and demanded action. David was just going to ignore the man because, he might be here, he might outrank David, but this wasn’t his command. David was in charge here and he was taking his orders directly from Sir Arthur. The Board had wanted it that way.

Owens was not aware of any of that and it might explain why the man was in a blind panic. Chesterfield generally had that kind of effect on the ignorant. Owens was blabbering away, “where are they headed? The para’s?”

David did not even have to look, “they’re headed for the motor pool. We’re going to have Bradley’s crawling up our ass in about ten minutes or so.”

Owens was confused, “sir?”

David stopped by his secure phone and he huffed out to his sergeant, “everything they’ve done up till now was a diversion. They kept us fixed here and then drew our eyes away when the real attack was going to be their armor crossing behind the billets and coming up the steep wooded slope on our flank. If we try and reposition then their infantry can do a right face and march right down our throats. That way they can take us from either direction and we can‘t do shit about it.” David took a glance out of the slit in the concrete and then said, “they’re dismounts are already starting to spread out down there. I don’t even need the glasses to see it.”

After thumping his fingers on the secure phone for a moment, David decided to pick it up. Before he could do it however, it beeped at him and David let out the breath he was holding in. When he picked up he heard Arthur on the other end. David quickly reported, “sir we’re going to be under attack in about…”

Arthur interrupted, “Grail Royal.”

David felt a sigh of relief, “are we certain sir?”

“Absolutely,” David hung up. He then reached behind one of the laptops on the shelf behind him and pulled out a bottle of scotch. David didn’t bother with a glass this time, he took a swig right out of the bottle. Then he told Owens, “do not fire unless fired upon. Hold positions, stand down.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me sergeant,” David said before taking another swig. Then he said, “do it!”

When forty five minutes passed by and David realized he was still alive, he was nearly three quarters of the way through his bottle. He was still nervous but, you had to be alive to be that. Then Owens came running back in. The man was excitable and stumbling over his words as he blabbered out, “we’ve got a white flag sir!”

“Where an who,” David said as he stood up, carefully, and grabbed his helmet off the table in front of him. As David strapped on his head gear, Owens gave his sketchy report but, in this instance, it didn’t matter. David knew who his man was talking about and he said, “that would be General Isaacs by the sound of it. I’m guessing the other man is his ass kisser, Phil Conner. Let’s go have a chat, shall we.”

David met with the American soldiers just past his perimeter wire. He exchanged salutes with the General and said, “last time we saw each other, you were still a colonel, sir. Congratulations on the promotion.” David then nodded to Phil and said, “Colonel Conner, nice to see you again, as well. Now what can I do for you gentlemen today?”

Bob pulled a paper out of his equipment vest and handed it over to the Major, of whose nationality Bob was no longer even sure. As Cross read the paper he commented, “and why should I give you access to our most sensitive facility when we were just a hairs breath away from a war that your nation seemed intent on starting?”

“I don’t know Major,” Bob replied, “since I was just a hairs breath from taking it from you anyway, we can always just go back to plan A.” Then Bob noted, “that request is directly from the President of the United States, based on the terms of our initial agreement. Your Miss Somerset is at the United Nations, as per the agreement, and you are free to contact her and consult. She has already been notified.”

That seemed to surprise the guy. Bob wondered why. Then Major Cross smiled, folded up the paper, and tucked it away in his vest pocket. He seemed rather cheerful as he said, “I had no idea that Carol was back in New York, and safe. I consider it a personal favor, General, that you informed me of this and, based on that, I will repay in kind. If you will excuse me, I have a few calls to make but, be assured, I will argue in your favor. Thank you sir.” Cross saluted, turned, and he and his man marched back towards their bunker.

Bob was not so formal as he and Phil walked back down the hill towards their own positions where the dismounts had now been reinforced with their armored vehicles. It amazed him though, “we were just about to get in a knife fight with that guy and he’s acting like we came for afternoon tea. I don’t get the British sometimes.”

Phil had to ask, “is that really what he is?”

“I was wondering about that too,” Bob admitted, Then he said, “finally, I just got to figure, the guy can call himself whatever he wants. He was born and raised here so he’s British. Let them sort the rest of that shit out.”

When the two officers reached American lines, Bob got a call from the delegation building. He reported there at once and found a short little dumpy British Major, in a field uniform, waiting for him at the talking elevators of the parking entrance. They exchanged salutes and the man introduced himself, “Major Wolf Spivey, General.”

After saluting, Bob shook the guys hand, “I owe you one Major. Now if you’ll…”

“Already downstairs sir,” Spivey replied. “She’s none the worse for wear. Imagine she’ll have more than a little to talk about when she get’s home.”

Was this guy serious? Bob decided he did not want to know. The limits of his Anglophilia were being pushed today. Bob invited the guy in the elevator and they both took it down to the subbasement. Bob gave the go ahead for Spivey to be admitted to one of the conference rooms and then took care of what he really came here for. He walked back to the infirmary and found his daughter being prodded by an army nurse. Janet forgot all about the woman, jumped off the table and ran to her father. After she got her arms around him she would not let go. Bob could hear her crying as well. It all took him by surprise. The nurse had to urge him and even pantomimed a hug. Bob grumbled and then did it. The nurse looked happy and walked away.

Janet sounded like a little girl. That also confused Bob because she didn’t even sound like that when she was a little girl. When Janet finally looked him in the eye she said, “Daddy, I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“Ok,” Bob shook his head, “is this confuse Bob Isaacs day and I didn’t get the memo?”

Janet sighed, “I’m serious Dad. There’s so much I want to say to you right now and…”

“Honey,” Bob disengaged, “I know. We need to have a sit down some time. I really want to do it too. Only I got this pending world war thing going and, you know how that can get.”

“Um,” Janet leaned up and whispered in his ear, “don’t leave me here.” That confused Bob and it showed. Janet then said, “you know I’m a doctor, right?”

What the hell did that have to do with anything? Bob nodded as the girl tried hanging on to him and not letting go. He told her as he tried to extract himself from the situation, “yeah I do know this honey. I think your Mom mentioned it once and, I promise, I will eventually get around to sending you a card. Now…”

Janet pulled herself up to his ear again and whispered with a bit of anger this time, “Dad, these army doctors don’t have a clue what they’re doing! DO NOT LEAVE ME HERE!”

“I think one of them is in the air force honey,” Bob told her as he finally got his neck free. Then she grabbed his arm. Bob realized he was not getting out of this. He looked around for a way out of the trap and then he saw a Marine walking down the hall, “you! Marine!” The man came strolling up casually until he realized he had just been called by a General.

The guy was a captain named Twitchily and he quickly panicked and then went to the position of attention, “sorry sir, I thought you were…”

“Never mind that,” Bob told him. He then pointed to Janet, “this, Captain, is what we in the army like to refer to as the General’s daughter.”

Janet smiled, waived, and then said, “I saw you on TV!”

Twitch twitched. Then his eyes drifted to the girl, “no shit? Did they get my good…” He noticed the flames in the General’s eyes, “sorry sir.”

“Drop whatever you are doing Captain,” Bob commanded. “You are now her personal body guard, understood?”

“My pleasure sir,” Twitch responded

As Bob walked off he replied, “it better not be.”

When the General was around the corner, Twitch raised his chin, patted his cheek, and then asked Janet, “seriously though, did they get this side?”

Around the corner, Bob’s mind was already racing towards his next disaster as he entered the conference room that was guarded by a man that reminded him of one small problem with his parental plan. The Marine guarding this door was wearing his class B’s, white hat, and all the nicer looking stuff. The other guy was dressed for war, you know, what was really going on.

“I’m too old to be a parent,” Bob told himself so he might stop worrying. It didn’t work.

Bob did manage to get the attention of the Marine guard, “sir? That’s not a, um, proposal is it sir?”

“Huh?” Bob grunted, “hell no Sergeant, let me in.” Sometimes being a general was advantageous. When you didn’t feel like having to explain yourself was one of them. Demanding entry was yet another but, sadly, that never worked at movie theaters! The teleconference room had a better plot today anyway. Bob listened to the rumble, both on and off line, and he should have guessed that even when they were facing the end of the world, his ex-wife would find time to argue with somebody. Today, Mary had picked a guy on the other side of an ocean.

“Bob?” Mary’s voice came in over the room’s speakers, “is that you?”

“What’s a matter Mary? Couldn’t find enough people in New York to argue with?” Bob did not let her get the question out, “and you can leave Major Disaster here alone. Janet’s fine, I just left her.”

Spivey was not sure how to take that so he just nodded and said, “um, thank you. I think.”

Another voice came on the line and this time it was Bill Devon. The President interrupted from Washington and said, “guys. I am certainly glad your daughter is fine but, we still have something of a crisis here to deal with.”

Bob looked up at the clock on the wall and said, “yes Mister President, funny the things you talk about at the end of the world. My clock says it goes in a hair under twenty minutes.”

The US Consul, that ran the delegation building, that Bob was now in, said from the end of the conference table, “there has got to be a way we can get a message to those people.”

Bob dropped his head, “this is not a something we anticipated. The situation was a win or loose and nobody said anything about a draw. The fact is, if they open that Dell, at any point from now on, Colonel Hogan and his strike team are coming through, guns blazing.”

The President quickly responded, “and they didn’t give you any indication they’d let you in that building?” The President asked Mary in New York, “is that Somerset woman on the phone?”

Mary also had an urgency about her voice, “no sir. I can see her from here, she’s still out there in the hall talking.”

“I can’t believe this,” Bob almost yelled, “we’re going to blow up the planet because a woman won’t get on the phone? There has got to be some irony there somewhere.”

Mary snapped back, “could you try being a little cons…”

The President interrupted, “people, please. The plaque on my desk says President, not marriage councilor.” There was a moment’s hesitation and Bob could hear Devon talking to someone off screen. Then the President came back with, “General Isaacs, I’ve got Jim Garret right here. His recommendation is, if Hogan’s people come through that hole, we’ll have to go with a full strike from our end. You’re the guy on the scene here, what do you say?”

Bob could not believe that he was saying it, “yes sir. If we’re going to have to fight, we might as well go out with a bang instead of a whimper.”

The President sounded a little more sympathetic when he said, “what’s your plan Bob?”

“Well,” Bob gulped and then said, “I am pretty confident, now, that they don’t have the firepower that Mary was led to believe. You were right sir, it appears as if Somerset was at least partially bluffing with Mary. So if we roll, I know I can take them down but, it probably won’t matter. They can still blow that building before I can overrun the control room. Remember, we don’t even know where it is.”

“So,” the President replied, “the tactical situation is at least favorable, is that what you’re saying?”

“To be honest sir,” Bob told his boss, “I almost wish it weren’t. We’ve painted them into a corner and that makes them desperate. They’re more likely to do something stupid because of that. Just the fact that we haven’t heard from them yet, kind of makes me think…”

Phil Conner came through the door, almost out of breath, and he wasted no time telling Bob, “General, I think our friends in black just did something stupid.”

The President actually sounded pleasant and calm when he said, “Bob, you forgot to knock on the table top when you said that.”