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Blacksturm drained the first glass. A good bum, he thought as the drink coursed down his throat, a good Aryan bum. He poured himself another.

“What else is of interest?”

“Two items from two different parts of the world. From the Middle East, some very discreet inquiries from Libya and Iraq concerning the intentions of the new government. I view these as early attempts to establish relations. I believe they may see us as potential allies against the Americans.”

“Interesting. I remember training their terrorist teams when I was in East Germany. They may have potential. Go on.”

“The Israelis, of course, have been denouncing us for days. They have stated that our imprisonment of Jews is intolerable.” The colonel drew a long breath. “I do not like it, Herr General. Somehow I fear Israel’s potential reaction more than I fear the Americans’.”

“Worry not, Herr Colonel,” Blacksturm said as he drained his second glass. “We hold too many of their people hostage; they would not dare intervene.” He sneered at his own worry about “world opinion.” How many battalions has world opinion? With a trace of unsteadiness he poured himself a third. “What reaction from the Americans? I know the status of their forces in country. Did the reinforcing units link up with Panzerbrigade 11?”

“Ja. It is being accomplished with great difficulty, Herr General, but by morning, when the other units arrive, Guterman will have almost ten thousand soldiers at his disposal. He will crush the American brigade like dirt under his boots. And of course, the rest of the army mobilizes in a few weeks.”

“But from the American government?”

“Publicly, Herr General, you are aware of their protests and their position. It seems their opinion polls show most of their people believe us to be responsible for the attacks on their forces. Privately, however, we have received communications from their government that suggest they seek some form of ‘stability.’ In view of their operations against us, I do not know what to make of their inquiries.”

Blacksturm, too, was puzzled. Such an action is evidence of either incredible duplicity, he thought, or of incredible weakness. Perhaps they were, to use their phrase, “hedging their bets.” Well, he mused, two can play their game.

“Open what communications you can with the American government. Give them your assurances that we seek only a stable Europe, one safe for their investment and their industries. Tell them we wish to, how do they say it, get back to ‘the usual business’ as soon as we deal with our internal problems. Those who matter in America have money. Their leaders are businessmen above all else. They will understand profits above principles. But we must ensure they understand who is giving orders. Find their ambassador and send him to me.” The colonel nodded as he scribbled notes.

“Communicate to Shror that I wish the American brigade destroyed immediately.”

The colonel started. “Herr General, I do not understand.”

“In only a day or two, Herr Colonel, we will own weapons that will multiply the force of our soldiers a thousandfold. I will play the international game of words to which the American president challenges me, but once his army here is neutralized I will hold him, and the world, in the palm of my hand. And I shall squeeze.”

The schnapps glass shattered in his hand.

Village of Zenstein
Germany
Monday, March 25, 2:52 a.m.

Another village. Another delaying action by the Germans. Another walk through the night by tired, chilled infantrymen who were losing another two hours’ sleep while the supporting cavalry’s Bradleys waited for the enemy armored cars to take a false step.

Inside the turret, McKay didn’t hear the whine announcing the arrival of enemy artillery, but Walker’s men in the village three-quarters of a mile to McKay’s front froze at the sound of shells ripping the air above them.

“Incoming!”

They pressed themselves into the sidewalks as houses shattered around them. Between volleys a woman screamed, the sound of her horror drowned out by the cascade of brick and mortar and shrapnel and deafening roars. The barrage went on for a ten-minute forever. Then silence.

* * *

I’m alive, thought Watson, I made it. Still too afraid his realization was a dream to move, for a second he lay still, then wiggled his toes and fingers and shifted his hips gently, carefully, from side to side. Everything works. I’m alive and I’m all right. His platoon leader’s voice over the squad radio gave Sgt. Nick Watson the grip he needed to shove back his fear.

“Tarantula One, this is Tarantula Five. Sitrep,” spouted the radio again. That’s the lieutenant, thought Watson. He made it too. He wants a situation report already? For Watson to press the switch on his radio was a major act of will, for to press the switch was to end the simple ecstasy of being alive and replace it with the burden of leading his squad.

“Tarantula One, Tarantula Five.”

“These people don’t pay me enough for this,” muttered Watson as he reached for the radio. “Tarantula Five, this is Tarantula One. Lemme check my squad. Sitrep in five mikes.”

He shook off the chunks of mortar and brick as he stood, not waiting for his platoon leader’s acknowledgment. Lieutenant Walker’s good, Watson thought, he’ll give me five minutes — but only five. The El-tee always checks his watch closely. Watson took a deep breath.

“Fire team leaders, check your people! I want a status report in two minutes!”

195th Brigade TOC
Monday, March 25, 3:05 a.m.

“Artillery? You’re sure?”

“That’s what both the Cav and the infantry working with them reported, Sir.”

After a long night on the road, both Stern and Griffin had made their way back to the brigade Tactical Operations Center — the TOC.

Griffin turned away from the radio operator. “It just doesn’t make sense,” he said. “I can’t see Joel Guterman using artillery in a populated area. He wouldn’t kill civilians in order to get at our people.” Griffin shook his head in disbelief as Stern frowned and bit down on the stem of his pipe.

“You don’t have to see it,” Stern shot back, “the Cav and the patrols saw it for you. Up close and personal. Your pal Guterman is playing on their side now, and you’d better accept it.” Stern struck a match and lit his pipe. “Or maybe you’d like to go ask him in person.” He waved out the match, then looked around the TOC until he found Cooper. “S2!”

Cooper put down the Coca-Cola he’d been nursing. “One hour, Sir.” He answered calmly.

“Huh? How did you know what I was going to ask you?”

Cooper stood, his lanky six-foot frame gliding out of the chair to command their attention. “Sir, I am an intel officer. I am paid to anticipate. In one hour we will know if the artillery was a prelude to a German attack or if it was a last resort to extricate their reconnaissance elements. If the enemy uses his artillery again or if he appears in company strength in that time window, then we can logically deduce they mean to fix us in place for an attack. That will mean the understrength Panzerbrigade 11 has received reinforcements significant enough to make attacking plausible. If the cavalry doesn’t report any new forces entering the battle, then the Germans are playing for time.” He was different somehow. The acne and the awkwardness were irrelevant; this Cooper knew the enemy better than they knew themselves. Punching his laptop computer keys and rummaging through manuals and reports, this Cooper had thought through the moves and countermoves of each force. This Cooper was a way inside the Germans’ thinking, a way to understand what they were doing, a key to parrying their thrusts and taking advantage of the openings they presented. “Either way, their commitment of their artillery demands the cavalry take much greater care as they advance. The Cav must be prepared to transition from aggressive reconnaissance to flexible defense on a moment’s notice, especially if additional enemy units become involved. I recommend the S3 direct the infantry elements assisting the Cav to conduct dismounted patrols before the cavalry moves forward. Such patrols should be no more than squad-sized to avoid presenting a lucrative target. I further recommend he order the Cav troop commander to identify tentative positions where he could screen the brigade main body to provide us early warning and that he be prepared to occupy these if the enemy signals an intention to attack.”