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bit,” Conner said, a tinge of defeat in his voice.
    “Hey, let’s fall back to the shop and grab a drink,” Pat offered.
    Just as Conner was about to accept, a guard leaned in. “Excuse me, sir, General Baxter is looking for you. He has some important information.”
    Conner acknowledged the guard then turned to Pat and said, “Another time; duty calls. Do me a favor, jump in the chase vehicle. They’ll take you back. I need to go back to the office.”
    Once inside his vehicle alone, Conner sat in quiet reflection. He wanted nothing more than to hammer the PAE, but he couldn’t do what he wanted without the consequences of losing allies again. He found himself pulled in so many directions, attempting to satisfy many different thoughts and groups. There was pressure from one side to reconstitute the other two branches of government, there was pressure to sue for peace, there was pressure to fight it all out, there was pressure to openly negotiate with radical groups, so forth and so on. He could barely even keep peace with his own staff, who argued loudly and passionately for their causes.
    Recently, Conner had been looking back on history for examples to follow, and one came to mind: Lincoln. Before the lights went out, there were some academic circles that referred to Lincoln as a tyrant because he implemented policies that were construed as unconstitutional. Some asked, “How can a president save the constitution by destroying it at the same time?” It was a fair question, but history proved Lincoln’s actions were sound. In order to win a war, you must not only defeat your enemies, you must crush them. As each day passed without a clear plan to victory over the PAE, Conner began to reassess his own policy of what he termed moderated combat. Maybe, just maybe, he needed to take the gloves off and say to hell with what anyone thought.
     • • • 
    Baxter was patiently waiting for Conner outside his office. The fact that Baxter wanted to meet now portended a lengthy evening.
    Seeing Conner, Baxter jumped up and got right to it. “Mr. President, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
    “I’m always one that likes to get my bad news first, but before you start, let’s step into my office,” Conner answered.
    Baxter followed Conner into the executive office and took his usual seat.
    “This is obviously important and couldn’t wait, so what do we have?” Conner asked.
    “The Aussies won’t supply combat troops.”
    Taking in the bad news, he asked, “What’s the good news?”
    “They will supply us more arms, jets, and tanks.”
    “That is good news, but do we have the people who can fly or drive the equipment?”
    “The good news was two parts; they will provide us with advisers to train our people. Bringing in all assets from military installations to come support us here was smart. Their troops levels were depleted but having them here will help.”
    “That
is
good news. How soon can we have it here? We don’t have much time; the PAE will be breathing down our necks soon.”
    “I kind of left out the second part of the bad news.” Baxter grinned sheepishly.
    “Shit, do I want to hear this?”
    “The ships should be pulling into Houston by late July.”
    “Late July! Damn!”
    “I know, I hate to beat this drum, but this really highlights our need for a new strategy. The meeting ended with you wanting to wait for word about additional troops coming from our allies. Well, it’s not going to happen. You saw the PAE’s location—they’ve picked up momentum. If we’re going to strike we have two windows where the effects of a nuclear strike will be diminished . . .”
    Conner held up his hand. “I hear you, General, but I’m not confident about the decision to deploy nuclear weapons.”
    “I don’t mean to step out of line, sir, but this is an easy decision. I understand the dance we have to do for political purposes, but this is now truly a self-defense situation, unlike