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Lambert watched General Thomas walk up to the podium and waited as a hundred conversations fell silent nearly at once. Thomas turned and nodded, and two aides pulled back a curtain covering a huge map of Central Europe on the wall behind him. Gasps and whispers rose from the second-tier officials of the U.S. and allied governments, and Thomas pulled a telescopic silver pointer to its full extension.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Thomas said to the gathering in the large auditorium-style cafeteria of the underground facility. Seated around and behind Lambert on the first two rows were the President and his Cabinet, the leadership of Congress, and the Justices of the Supreme Court. The rest of the room was filled with over two hundred diplomats and officials from the governments of
TEAMS
, America's new allies from the Treaty on Euro-American Military Security.

“We will begin with the European Theater,” Thomas said in a loud voice that easily carried over the occasional cough or scraping chair. “There are two prongs to the attack from the west. The Northern Prong from Poland and the Southern Prong from Slovakia. To the European Theater the United States has deployed or will deploy three armored corps each with an armored cavalry regiment and Special Forces Group, and a total of six heavy divisions, almost two thirds of the U.S. Army's heavy forces. In addition to U.S. troops, the coalition will field the two divisions of I British Corps, three divisions and two Alpine brigades from Italy, and thirteen divisions or division equivalents from Poland, Slovakia, and the Czech Republic. The objective of the attacks in the European Theater . . . is Moscow.”

There was an eruption of cheers from the audience, surprising, Lambert noted, General Thomas but pleasing President Costanzo immensely. The President turned to grin broadly at the crowd, many of whom were on their feet and clapping wildly. When the cheering died down, Thomas raised his voice over the now buzzing conversations from the stirred mass of people.

“While I do not generally intend to discuss operational results in this briefing, I would like to relate to you anecdotally the results of the supporting attack made by Polish armored and mechanized divisions into the semiautonomous Russian republic of Kaliningrad along the Baltic. Three hours after the Polish troops crossed the border and shortly after first contact with forces of the Russian garrison there, the government of Kaliningrad petitioned the
TEAMS
coalition for membership.”

The audience roared with laughter and applause. The humor was infectious, and Lambert could tell from Thomas's face that he too enjoyed the moment.

“Moving on now to the Mediterranean Theater, units of the
TEAMS
alliance have seized the Bosporus and secured access to the Black Sea for ships of the U.S. Sixth Fleet and the Italian Navy. Their objective will be to destroy the Russian Black Sea Fleet and begin a campaign of carrier air strikes against Russian petroleum production in the Caucasus.” This time the applause was more obligatory than the first spontaneous outburst. It died down quickly.

“In the North Atlantic, our Icelandic Campaign is proceeding apace. U.S. Army forces have now been joined by a brigade group from Canada and are rapidly reducing the Russian invasion forces.” Before Thomas moved on, there was a smattering of applause for what Lambert knew to be a bloody battle between light infantry—Russian, American, and Canadian—whose heaviest weapons were hand-carried mortars and whose killing was close-in. “Finally, in the Barents Sea north of Scandinavia, U.S., British, and Canadian naval forces continue to deny the Russian Navy access to the Atlantic from Murmansk and Arkhangelsk.” He made no mention of the Kara Sea Bastion.

Thomas walked now over to the map of the Pacific coast of Russia. “In the Far Eastern Theater, the objective of the U.S. Marines and Army is to secure the Russian naval facility at Vladivostok and their rather sizable stocks of nuclear weapons there and to fix in place the substantial Russian ground forces previously committed to the Russo-Chinese War. By severing the Trans-Siberian Railroad here and here”—his pointer indicated two points along the southern edges of Siberia deep inside Russia—“we hope to split Russia in two and thereby tie down two thirds of the Russian Army in the Far East and prevent their strategic redeployment to oppose our advance in Europe.”

When the applause died down, General Thomas looked up and hesitated. Lambert turned to see an army major walking up the center aisle with half-sheets of paper Lambert recognized as
FLASH
reports straight off the printer. Turning to look at the rear of the cafeteria, Lambert saw the aide's electric car parked just outside the open door on the subterranean street.

Everyone stirred as the pause lengthened. The major strode up to the platform, whispered in Thomas's ear, and then handed Thomas three slips of paper. Thomas read the first and then glanced at the other messages as the murmur of voices in the room grew louder still. He then motioned with his finger for the Chief of Naval Operations to come up to the podium and made a beeline for the President. As the major left the podium, he stopped and handed Lambert a sealed envelope. Lambert saw the stamps of the Swiss Embassy in Moscow and of the U.S. Embassy in Zurich. A large “Eyes Only” stamp appeared just under the embassy stamps bearing Lambert's name. He opened it.

It was a terse message from the Swiss Embassy. “Colonel Pavel Filipov of the Army of Russia requests to meet with Mr. Gregory Lambert of the United States government at his earliest convenience. Col. Filipov will arrive in Philadelphia by KLM Airlines flight from Amsterdam at nine hundred hours tomorrow Philadelphia time in civilian clothes. Utmost discretion is urged.”

The CNO cleared his throat and said, “I'll give you just a summary now, and save the details for later.”

Lambert saw Thomas engaged in a muted conversation with the President, who grabbed one of the messages from his hand with a look of anger on his face. Lambert got out of his chair and crossed the aisle to tell them about Filipov's request, dropping on one knee next to the stooped Thomas and seated President.

“Those bastards,” Costanzo said as he read, and Thomas handed Lambert one of the other reports. “It's a
FLASH OVERRIDE,”
Thomas said as Lambert raised the report to read.

CIC: JGAA
//

TOP SECRET
//

CHEMREP
/001//

PLATG
/4378
N
/0372
W
/094712
Z
//

CASLTY
/22//

DEATHS
/5//

4
TH MECH REPORTS FROG MISSILE ATTACK ON ARTILLERY BATT

AT
0447Z/
CASUALTIES OCCURRED DESPITE USE OF MASKS
/
DEATHS OCCURRED WITHIN MINUTES
/
SYMPTS INCL TIGHTNESS OF CHEST
/
INITIAL SITREP IS PERSISTENT NERVE AGENT
/
ID BY FIELD DETECTION KIT IS GB PROBABLE
/5
KIA
/17
WIA
/
GROSS AREA DECONTAMINATION DELAYED IN ANTICIPATION OF FURTHER ATTACKS
/
CIVILIAN CASUALTIES PROBABLE
//

END//

“Nerve gas?” Costanzo asked.

In the background, Thomas could hear the admiral going over the details of the Sixth Fleet's forced entry into the Black Sea.

“Yes, sir,” Thomas said. “Three separate attacks. All the reports are the same.”

The President's eyes were focused far away. Without rising from his reverie, the President asked, “How soon can we be ready to retaliate in kind?”

Thomas's chin dropped to his chest, his mood darkening. “Well, sir, the Germans would go crazy if they knew we were transporting even binary weapons through their country. We could airlift a few shells in directly from the States and they could be employed within about twelve hours, but only on a limited basis. The only way to employ large numbers of the weapons would be to ship them by sea from the States and go straight into the Polish ports on the Baltic, and that would be a month or two off.”

“I don't want to use the stuff in dribs and drabs,” Costanzo said. “Give it top priority on the bills of lading for the Sealift Command and plan a massive delivery when enough is on hand.” After a pause he asked, “Is something wrong?”

Thomas hesitated before continuing. “Sir, it's just that the Russians will be around after this war is over, and we're going to have to live with whatever feelings they have toward us.”

“It was their decision to escalate to chemical weapons!” the President said angrily. “I have not established as this administration's policy, as some have advised, the wholesale destruction of the Russian state and its people. But I will not fight with one hand tied behind my back.”

“But, Mr. President, chemical weapons—nerve gas and blistering agents—are of little military effectiveness against the Russian Army. They're well equipped to fight a chemical war. It'll just fan the flames of—”

“Then use it against the Provisional Troops the Russians are conscripting,” Costanzo said, and looked Thomas in the eye for some time. “Do they have protective gear?” he finally asked.

Thomas stared back at the President. “No, sir.”

“Then gas
them”
the President said, turning his attention to
shake the hand of the Finnish ambassador, smiling broadly at the representative of the newest and most secret member of the
TEAMS
alliance.

The Humvee sped right up to Chandler, the tires screeching as it stopped. Doors flew open on both sides.

“Who's in charge here?” a captain asked.

Chandler looked over at the colonel who had walked up with the mob from the burned-out building. An awkward silence descended until the captain noticed the soldier's body, which the Slovak engineers had retrieved, and the charred hole in the field. Looking at Chandler and then the colonel, the captain said to the latter, “Are you in charge here, Colonel?”

“I didn't have
anything
to do with this mess,” the colonel said.

Chandler stepped forward to face the man. “My name is Major David Chandler. Those are my men out there,” he said, indicating the troops in the grass. “I've had one casualty.” The captain looked back at the body of the dead man.

Having shifted from one foot to the other impatiently, the colonel finally said to the captain, “When the hell were you planning on getting here? We've been waiting around for almost an hour! No wonder V Corps is so screwed up down here! We never planned on incompetents running the operation!”

The captain's eyes settled tiredly on the colonel for a moment. “And these are your men?” he asked him, looking at the mob.

The colonel smirked and shook his head. “Look, Captain, I know what you're trying to do here. No, I take no responsibility for those men. We came over on the same flight—that's all.”

The captain called back to the Humvee for an ambulance, then turned back to Chandler. “What happened?”

“I sent them out to secure the perimeter,” Chandler said simply.

Barnes interrupted. “Pardon me, sir,” he said to the captain. Chandler turned to see Barnes's jaw bulging as he ground his teeth. “Why the hell was that minefield not marked?”

“I don't know, Master Sergeant,” the captain answered quietly.

“Goddammit!” Barnes exploded as he looked away, causing Chandler to flinch involuntarily. “I've got one dead trooper and not a single sign posted anywhere down the length of the tarmac! Shit!
What kind of—?” Barnes bit off the last with great effort.

Turning to speak alternately to Barnes and Chandler, the captain said, “They mined this area yesterday morning after six men had their throats cut by Spetsnaz while on sentry duty, and then a hundred and forty men and women who had just deplaned like you were killed or wounded in an attack on their staging area. We've lost a lot of people, but I'm sorry about what happened.”