Slapping his hands on his chest, Dixon took a deep breath. "Well, don't let me stop you. I'll get one of your loyal minions to give me an update."
Cerro saluted. "Okay, I'll leave you here to gloat, sir."
Dixon laughed. "Do I detect, Major, some sour grapes?"
"No, sir, not at all. You're the boss and you have every right to roam about the countryside wherever you please while I keep the galley slaves in line."
Dixon, a smile lighting up his dirty face, looked at Cerro. "Don't worry, Hal. Your day will come. I assure you, after this you'll be a shoo-in for battalion command. And when you get your battalion, I hope that you get an operations officer that's just as obnoxious as the one I've been saddled with."
"Okay, sir. I get the message. I'll meet you up the road." Exchanging salutes, Cerro turned and began to walk away, then paused. "Oh, one more thing, Colonel. There's a storm brewing in the west."
Dixon's face now showed a moment of concern. "Any chance of its affecting us?"
Cerro shook his head. "Too early to tell, sir." Looking at the dark sky to the west, Dixon thought about it for a moment, then smiled again. "Well, there's nothing you or I can do to stop it if it decides to come our way. No need to worry about something that's beyond our control. We have more than enough to deal with here. Now, break's over. Back on your head."
Part Two
THE GERMAN CRISIS
CHAPTER 6
After a second review of the script her producer, Charley Mordal, had provided her for the twelve noon broadcast, Jan Fields-Dixon decided that more changes needed to be made. Although it never ceased to amaze her how little information their news program actually put out over the air, today's script, concerning what the script referred to as the American incursion into the Ukraine and the first use of a nuclear weapon since 1945, was particularly bad. With script in hand, Jan headed for the producer's desk, which was no easy task, especially on a day when a news story like this broke. The normal well-paced and measured chaos and pandemonium of the central newsroom was intensified tenfold. Jan had once theorized to a fellow correspondent that the importance of a news story could be measured by the amount of shouting and yelling that took place behind the camera. Few in the business disagreed with her. Winding her way through and around a maze of computer desks and long consoles manned by stern-faced technicians and harried assistant editors, Jan bobbed and weaved as she attempted to keep from being knocked down or overrun by people running about with as much direction and purpose as headless chickens. It was for this reason, despite criticism from her boss, that Jan wore her sneakers most of the day. "Only a fool," she was fond of replying to his comments, "would willingly wear three-inch heels while playing stickball in heavy traffic." Besides the practical benefit, Jan enjoyed tweaking the nose of authority when in her opinion those wielding that authority were being a tad bit dumb. So Jan's sneakers served as a visible symbol of willingness to challenge stupidity that others freely accepted as "the way things are."
When he saw Jan headed his way, the first thought that entered Charley Mordal's mind was to flee. After a struggle of ten hours trying to pull together a coherent package that somehow brought all the elements of the latest crisis into focus, the last thing Mordal wanted to do was get into a pissing contest with Jan. Flight, however, would not save him. Once Jan achieved what everyone called target lock, there was no escape. That didn't keep the others who had been gathered around Mordal's desk from taking flight. Like cockroaches scattering when the light went on, the people who had been with Mordal were gone before Jan reached his desk.
Without hesitation, Jan carefully moved a stack of papers and computer printouts out of the way before sitting on the corner of Mordal's desk. Crossing her legs, Jan leaned forward, resting her left arm on her leg, leaving her left hand to dangle over her knee. Settled, she held the script in front of her with her right hand. "Charley, we really need to take a serious look at this script. It is, to use a cliché, a mile wide and an inch deep."
Exhausted from his efforts, Mordal slumped back in his chair and stared at Jan before answering. It was times like this that made him wonder if it was worth the pain that he and the rest of the editorial staff had to endure in order to work with this woman. She was by any measure attractive. Jan's long brunette hair sported soft bangs that brushed across her forehead so they fell just above her right eye, while framing her oval face with gentle waves that cascaded softly about her shoulders. Jan used little makeup, just enough to highlight her high cheekbones and big brown eyes, which were her favorite feature. Coupled with a firm, persuasive manner, Jan used her eyes like a weapon.
Looks, however, were not Jan's strongest point. Her skills as a correspondent were what made her. With more credentials to her credit than fellow correspondents with twice the time in the business, Jan had an ability to communicate the news that few came close to matching and none surpassed. It was as if, someone had said, she had been born for this. Still this didn't make dealing with her any easier, especially when she thought that she was right.
Mordal's exasperated response was not exaggerated. Lifting his right hand as if he were trying to fend her off, Mordal avoided looking into her eyes as he answered. "Jan, I've been up since one o'clock this morning. I have personally looked at every piece of information concerning our President's little tantrum"
In a voice that sounded like a schoolteacher's, Jan interrupted Mordal. "Charley, I would hardly call the invasion of another country, an invasion that, oh by the way, resulted in the detonation of God knows how many nuclear warheads and an outcry from our European allies, a 'little tantrum.' "
Mordal was tired, harried, and in no mood to be lectured to. "Look, Jan. You have the best of what would otherwise be called a handful of shit. No one is talking. Not the White House, not the State Department, and especially not the Pentagon. All we have right now is a whole lot of bits and pieces that, unedited and strung end to end, don't come out to more than five minutes' worth of airtime."
"So," Jan retorted, "your solution is to have me chat with a bunch of pseudo-experts who know less than we do and prove it every time they open their mouths."
Looking her in the eye for the first time, Mordal nodded. "Yes. Something like that. Why, do you have a better idea?"
Mordal had no sooner said that than he regretted doing so. "As a matter of fact, Charley, I do. It seems that the Germans are being quite silent about the whole affair. In fact, except for this one short piece here from Reuters stating that German forces were placed on alert this morning within minutes after the American invasion began, we have nothing concerning Germany."
"So? What's the big deal? I mean, it's obvious that they and the rest of Europe are as embarrassed about the whole thing as we are. You know, big American operation goes haywire, radiation contaminating Swiss moo cows, fear of three-headed children being born paralyzing Central Europe, Chernobyl revisited. You know, the usual."
Jan made a face. She ignored his attempt to mock her and continued to press her point. "Charley, you don't think about your own stuff or try to put any of it together, do you? Over the last year and a half, the Germans and the Ukrainians have been building what the German Chancellor called last July, 'a new basis for both political and economic cooperation in Central Europe between our two great nations, nations that together can bring East and West together and strength and unity out of chaos.' When you consider the amount of money the Germans have invested in the Ukraine, you can't deny that politics and national interest follow. For instance, the joint proposal that the Chancellor of Germany and the President of the Ukraine put forth last spring, when the Czech and Slovakian republics threatened to resort to armed conflict to resolve their differences, that Germany and the Ukraine intervene to prevent war. With that level of cooperation, one would expect some kind of reaction from our friends the Germans."