strike now. The Toronto Pocket points to the urgency of the matter. We must stop the GD before they break out of Southern Ontario. As it is, they are containable. If they break into New York State or worse, into Michigan…” Max shook his head. “I think we all know what that would mean.”

“We should turn the Behemoth tanks loose against them,” the President said.

McGraw cleared his throat.

“Are they ready?” the President asked him.

“No, sir, I’m afraid not,” McGraw said. “We only have a handful of Behemoths running. The regiment will be back to strength in three months.”

“No,” Max said. “We’ll have lost Detroit a long time before that, General. We must take the appropriate action now, this instant, today.”

The room fell silent. Anna glanced at the others. McGraw looked down. Max’s eyes gleamed and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs seemed troubled. David bit his lip as if he mentally argued with himself.

“I’m sorry to say this, sir,” General Alan said into the silence. “But I think the director has a point, a powerful one.”

David Sims stopped rocking. He looked surprised. He glanced from the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs to the Director of Homeland Security. “Are you two working against me?”

“No, sir,” Alan said. “I simply agree that we’re at an impasse here. We’ve moved the strategic reserve into Southern Ontario and trickled troops from the New England Command. The Germans have already devoured much of those forces and encircled others. We could summon the training levies—”

“I do not recommend that,” Max said.

“I don’t either,” Alan said. “I’m just talking about emergency policies. It’s that serious, Mr. President. This is bad, very bad.”

Anna felt her chest constrict.

“I have an idea to propose that doesn’t include using nuclear weapons,” McGraw said.

Anna felt relief flood through her. She was dead set against a nuclear holocaust, and she feared the consequences if the Director and the Chairman joined forces against David.

McGraw outlined Stan Higgins’s plan of using the majority of the soldiers stationed along the southern East and Gulf Coasts, entraining them to Southern Ontario together with a generous outlay of troops from the New England Command.

“But…” General Alan said, interrupting McGraw. Alan spoke about the GD amphibious forces in Cuba. He pointed out the danger of stripping the southern East Coast in case the enemy should land there and grab vital US territory.

McGraw used Stan’s arguments to deflect the Chairman’s objections.

“If I understand you correctly,” Director Harold said, “you’re talking about mass casualties in Southern Ontario. You mean to try to drown the enemy in US blood and to clog their tank treads with our boy’s pulped and crushed flesh.”

Big Tom McGraw’s face became leaden. With eyes like chips of glass, he stared at Max Harold. “I’m a soldier, Director. I fight with the weapons I have.” He shook his head. “I don’t want my men to die, and I resent the idea of you calling me a butcher.”

“Isn’t your plan butchery?” Max asked. “We have the weapons to stop the enemy: tactical nuclear missiles. I say it’s time to use them and end this conflict with an annihilating victory.”

Color darkened McGraw’s face. “Nuclear warheads… We have to use what we have: and right now, we have more soldiers than they do—if we can mass them in time. I hate the idea of American soldiers dying. I desperately hate it. But if we launch tactical nuclear weapons, they will launch tactical nuclear weapons. Then we’ll have to up our scale of attack, and soon we’re exploding the big boys at each other. Thermonuclear fireballs will devour everything. It will be Armageddon. No, Director. I don’t see how any soldier wins once we start doing that in earnest.”

“I disagree with you,” Max said. “The trick is to hit first and hit hard with everything.”

“Everything?” the President asked.

“A slip of the tongue,” Max said. “I mean to hit with an avalanche of tactical missiles, with nuclear surgical strikes.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” McGraw said.

“It’s also old Cold War theory,” the President said.

Max picked up the thin folder, waving it in the air. “We need to consider what’s at stake here before we get indigent about using nuclear weapons. They’re simply devices causing bigger explosions.”

“Size of explosion together with radioactivity makes a tremendous difference,” McGraw said.

“You’re looking at this from the wrong perspective,” Max told him. “Three powerful military blocs are invading our country. We don’t have the firepower or the manpower to take on all three for long and hope to win. We must end this war as quickly as possible. We cannot win a war of attrition, which is exactly what General McGraw is suggesting we do in Southern Ontario. I disagree with his plan. We need another decisive win. Against all hope, we had such a win against the Chinese. Now we need it against the Germans. We must end the war by destroying our opponents. Think about it. We’ve admitted to ourselves that GD tech is better than ours.”

“In most areas their tech is better,” Alan said. “Not in all areas.”

“In enough areas that it matters,” Max said. “Do any of you suppose I don’t understand numbers? The Militia organization has fielded millions of extra troops and armed them, often with hunting rifles and mortars instead of assault rifles and real artillery tubes. The GD offensive…” He waved the folder and slapped it against his briefcase. “The only way I can see us winning decisively is through the use of nuclear weapons. The idea we can conventionally defeat all three power blocs…it is madness and maybe even military hubris on our part to think so.”

Once more, the room fell into silence.

This is getting ugly, Anna thought. And it’s tearing David apart.

The President rubbed his eyes as he hung his head.

“Sir,” General Alan said. “I’d like to point out something.”

David Sims nodded wearily.

Alan took off his thick black glasses and he removed a checkered cloth from his suit pocket. He blew on a lens and began to rub it clean. He did the same to the second lens as the others waited.

After putting the glasses back on, the gaunt Chairman of the Joint Chiefs glanced at each person in turn. “I’m not going to address Director Harold’s argument. He may have a point. I’m a military man, and it seems to me that once we begin to truly talk about nuclear exchanges that the fighting is over and the true butchery starts.”

“Ignoring my argument is conceding that I’m right,” Max said, “because you do not have a cogent counterargument to offer.”

“The end of the world—”

“No,” Max said. “Nuclear weapons aren’t the end of the world. That is a false argument.”

“I disagree,” Alan said. “I have agreed at times to seaborne nuclear strikes. Those are different fish, so to speak. Land-based nuclear strikes in heavily populated regions…I believe that is the beginning of the end.”

“Are you asking for a defeat?” Max asked.

General Alan smiled briefly. “I think we can defeat our enemies conventionally. We threw the Chinese and their allies back, and given time and more Behemoths, we’ll throw the PAA and the SAF out of the rest of the country.”

“And what do you think the GD Expeditionary Force will be doing during all this?” Max asked.

“That’s what I want to explain,” Alan said. “General McGraw proposes a stopgap measure to buy us time. I have…well, I don’t know if we’ve hit the secret jackpot or not, but now seems like a good time to let the rest of you know that we’ve seen a technological ray of light.”

“You should have already told us,” the President said.

“Yes, sir,” Alan said. “Well, almost a week ago, Len Zelazny attacked the GD head-on. He took severe losses in men and materiel. We know that. He did so because of a theory of his. That was to get elite soldiers behind enemy lines. Gentlemen, Ms. Chen, a few of our boys got into the GD secondary areas.

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