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into his despair. His quarters were the last on a cul-de-sac, so someone driving on the street this late was unusual. The car turned in behind his Jeep, silhouetting him.
    Dalton always kept his pistol in a clip holster attached to the inner side of the seat when driving. He removed it and slid it into the holster in the small of his back as he got out shielding his eyes against the glare with his left hand.
    The headlights went out and he could hear a door opening. He blinked, eyes adjusting. A man in uniform was all he could make out.
    "Sergeant Major Dalton?" The voice was deep, one used to command.
    "Yes?"
    "I've been waiting for you. I was just down the street all evening." The figure came forward, a hand extended in greeting. "General Eichen."
    Dalton stiffened and began to salute. "At ease," Eichen said, waving a half-salute in the dark. "We need to talk"
    Dalton had never heard of Eichen, but in the moonlight he could just make out the three black stars sewn on the general's fatigue collar. A lieutenant general approaching in the dark; Dalton assumed that this strange visit had something to do with Psychic Warrior and the mission he had accomplished in Russia.
    "This way, sir." Dalton led him to the house and opened the door.
    "Leave the lights off," Eichen said as Dalton reached for the switch.
    Surprised, Dalton did as ordered. Eichen went over to the chair next to the front window and turned it so that it angled between the room and window, then he sat down. Dalton sat on the couch and waited.
    "I work for INSCOM," Eichen began.
    Dalton knew the acronym. Intelligence Support Command.
    "Technically speaking at least," Eichen continued. "In reality I work directly for a special branch of the National Security Council. Which works directly for the President It's a very small group that goes by the code name Nexus."
    Dalton was now certain this had to have something to do with the mission into Russia. The government had tried to keep the events under wraps, but all the world knew that a nuclear weapon had detonated in Moscow. However, the existence of Russia Special Department Eight (SD-8)-- their equivalent of Bright Gate-- and of Feteror/Chyort, the Russian avatar, was something the Russian government was keeping highly classified, a decision the present American administration had agreed with wholeheartedly. The nuclear explosion was being blamed on dissident right-wing terrorists, which also allowed the Russian president to crack down on his rivals, another thing which the administration agreed to.
    "Did you know that the President was not aware of the existence of Bright Gate and the Psychic Warrior program up until five days ago?" Eichen asked.
    Dalton stiffened. "No, sir, I didn't."
    "Did you know that the President did not sanction the Psychic Warrior mission to stop the Russian Mafia from trying to steal the nuclear weapons?"
    Dalton felt a twinge of pain in his shoulder from the recent wound. "Sir, we were told we had authorization from the National Command Authority to conduct the mission."
    Eichen's hand fluttered in the dark. "Don't worry, I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm informing you of the facts. Hell, if the President had known of Psychic Warrior and the pending interception of those nukes by the Russian Mafia, I'm sure he would have authorized the mission. The problem is that someone did authorize the mission without his sanction. Someone's been running Bright Gate without his knowledge. The real problem is, Sergeant Major, who the hell is behind Bright Gate?"
    Dalton was at a loss. He'd had his orders and he'd done as they indicated. The entire operation at Bright Gate had appeared to be legitimate. The orders and calls his battalion commander had received from the Pentagon sending Dalton and the team to the secret base to train as Psychic Warriors had also seemed quite valid. Before leaving for Russia, he'd been assured they had National Command Authority sanction for the mission.
    "Sir, we were