The Vaults of Heaven (AU)

[Poohbah]

Good one. Now, to tie up loose ends, and some folks need rolling up. While the bombers get tried for Treason.

Ain't nowhere near the end yet.

[Johnnie Lyle]

America or the Stars and Stripes? That's too . . . abstract . . . to die for, except maybe in retrospect, when you're trying to justify what you did to the guy in the mirror.

I dunno. America, maybe. But I have seen too many people shoulder incredible burdens and risk all they hold precious for the very nebulous states, counties and cities they hail from. Risking your life is easy compared to risking your family, marriage or soul. Yet so many do so.

OOC: Same.

[Craiglxviii]

Good one. Now, to tie up loose ends, and some folks need rolling up. While the bombers get tried for Treason.

Ain't nowhere near the end yet.

I knew I liked you

[jemhouston]

America or the Stars and Stripes? That's too . . . abstract . . . to die for, except maybe in retrospect, when you're trying to justify what you did to the guy in the mirror.

I dunno. America, maybe. But I have seen too many people shoulder incredible burdens and risk all they hold precious for the very nebulous states, counties and cities they hail from. Risking your life is easy compared to risking your family, marriage or soul. Yet so many do so.

OOC: Same.

It's a hard live when you can't look into the eyes in the mirror when try to shave.

[Belushi TD]

America or the Stars and Stripes? That's too . . . abstract . . . to die for, except maybe in retrospect, when you're trying to justify what you did to the guy in the mirror.

I dunno. America, maybe. But I have seen too many people shoulder incredible burdens and risk all they hold precious for the very nebulous states, counties and cities they hail from. Risking your life is easy compared to risking your family, marriage or soul. Yet so many do so.

OOC: Same.

Concur.

For a particularly apropos example, I refer you to 1861 through 1865.

Belushi TD

[Poohbah]

14 April 1988
Naval Air Station Willow Grove
Horsham Township, PA

"Sir, you're supposed to be my lawyer."

"I am your lawyer. I am also a realist. You're going to hang, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. You were caught red-handed having parked an armed truck bomb. Chemical residue tests came back first thing this morning; your hands and arms are covered with traces of Composition 4, Baratol, and the specific taggants used in those batches. Your hands also tested positive for PETN residue, which indicates you were handling det cord. You built the thing, you parked it, you armed it, and you got caught in the act by Lieutenant Helen Zangas. The truck was damaged by the detonation of the firing block, but the major charges are intact. They've got your signature on the documents pulling the van out of the Military District motor pool. You've got books detailing how to construct the exact explosive charges you built in your wall locker, and those same books tested positive for explosive residue, along with your uniforms. You're going down for treason. The end."

"C'mon, don't I get a shot at a plea bargain?"

"McVeigh, in order to get a plea bargain, you need something to bargain with. And you don't have a damn thing the prosecution is actually interested in."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, an Air Force warrant officer came into the room. His name tag said "MANTELL."

"Timothy McVeigh. Specialist 4, Bradley Gunner, middling scores at Benning, disciplinary problem who bounced from battalion to battalion in the Big Red One. And then he just happens to get assigned to the Philadelphia Military District."

He tossed a spiral-bound document onto the table.

The title read, "FUNCTIONAL ENGINEERING ANALYSIS REPORT OF VBIED DISARMED AT RITZ-CARLTON HOTEL, PHILADELPHIA, PA."

The author was listed as "1STLT ROBERTA E. KREIDER-ZANGAS, CA NG, COE, AUS."

"My ex-girlfriend--the woman who did the render safe--is a combat engineer--"

McVeigh chuckled. "She left you for a woman."

Mantell smiled. "She just couldn't handle that much masculinity in one go. As I was saying before you tried to commit suicide just now, she looked over your purported handiwork this morning. She's genuinely impressed. Someone surveyed the the designated parking spot, put down a survey mark that you 'just happened' to park the left wheel on top of, determined the azimuths to the structural pillars--not the ornamental ones on the facade, the actual pillars--and figured out how to take down all nine with three separate charges, each consisting of C-4 and Baratol that were precisely shaped to drive three explosively formed penetrators apiece. The det cord was cut precisely for time--pretty damn impressive for a detonation velocity of four miles per second--and tagged with color-coded tape so you'd know which cord went to which blasting cap.

"A very impressive piece of work. Hell, I did Air Commando demolitions training at Eglin, and I couldn't build this without a lot of help from real experts. But I'm supposed to believe that two perpetual fuck-ups--who are, at best, marginally competent 11 Bravos--did this, without blowing themselves up in the process. Yeah, I'm sure you didn't do this by yourself. But I don't give a shit. You did enough to send yourself to the gallows."

"No one got killed."

"Dumbass luck is not mitigating. You're still going to hang for treason."

"My lawyer tells me I'm fucked, now you're telling me I'm fucked."

"Son, you're so fucked, they're wheeling you into the delivery room."

"So, what's the out?"

"Who did the heavy lifting? Who got you assigned here?"

"Look, I demand some guarantees--"

"McVeigh, get this through your head. You are in a position to demand . . . nothing. Especially after insulting both me and two very good friends of mine."

"What do I get if I cooperate?"

"Someone may--if you're sufficiently useful--say some good words at your sentencing hearing. Maybe."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

Mantell gave McVeigh a smile that was terrifying.

"McVeigh, I have given you no word to keep."

* * *

Major Stephanie Hummel was preparing a simple dinner when she heard the first shotgun blast from the entryway.

She looked--and saw the door hinges and deadbolt methodically getting blown apart.

The door collapsed into the entryway.

A small object flew into the apartment, and she was suddenly insensate, unable to see or hear.

* * *

The assault team was clad in all black and wearing prototype M40 protective masks.

Sophie called, "CLEAR!".

Miller and Mantell charged across the living room to the bedroom door, kicked it open, and tossed in another flashbang.

They swept the bedroom, bedroom closet, and bathroom.

"CLEAR, TWO COMING OUT!"

They swept the dining area and her desk, grabbing every piece of paper they could find.

Hummel was already hogtied, and a hood was placed over her head by Master Sergeant Dobbins, one of the two enlisted operators with them.

Sophie nodded. "EXTRACT!"

Miller took the point position and went back into the hallway, followed by Sophie, Dobbins and Tech Sergeant Holcomb carrying Hummel, and Mantell taking the rear sweep position.

They made their way down the hall to the stairwell. A woman stuck her head out of her apartment door. Mantell aimed his MP5SD3 at her and shouted, "THE FUCK YOU STARING AT, WENCH? GET BACK INSIDE! YOU DIDN'T SEE SHIT!"

She ducked back and shut the door.

They charged up the stairs.

Mantell heard Sophie call on the secure radio, "X-Ray, this is Bad Karma, package secured, proceeding to extract, over."

"Bad Karma, X-Ray, copy, inbound primary in two three sierra, over."

"X-Ray, Bad Karma, copy, out."

Sophie reached the top of the stairs behind Miller and pulled out a tension wrench and a lockpick gun. In seconds, she had the door open.

The assault team charged onto the roof, ensuring the LZ was secure.

Ten seconds later, the MH-60G Pave Hawk arrived over the roof. Dobbins and Holcomb threw Hummel onto the bird like a sack of potatoes, and the team boarded quickly.

* * *

Kathy Barzanian looked at Staff Sergeant Kyle Parker, USMC, who said, "This stuff is off-the-charts crazy."

"Treat it as a training exercise."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

* * *

The darkness was still there, but she could hear. She was warm and comfortable.

"Wie hessein Sie?"

Easy answer.

"Ich heisse Stephanie Hummel."

"Welchen Rang haben Sie?"

The word seemed to flow out of her without thought.

"Obersturmbannfuehrer."

* * *

Parker turned off the microphone.

"Umglaublich!"

"Yes. Keep going."

Parker turned the microphone back on. "Welche Einheit haben Sie?"

"Das Letztebataillon."

Kathy blinked. The Last Battalion.

* * *

Eight hours later, Parker sighed. "That's all we're going to get. Her brains are cooked over easy with a couple slices of bacon."

Barzanian nodded. "It's enough." She paused, then said, "You understand that this is all--"

"Burn before reading and erase your brain afterwards. Copy you fivers, ma'am. I have no desire to get locked up in the looney bin, anyway."

Barzanian smiled. "Good man."

* * *

15 April 1988
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Philadelphia, PA

General Lodge followed FBI William Webster into the President's office, came to attention and saluted.

Bush stood and returned the salute, then extended his hand. "Good of you to come, General."

"Thank you, Mr. President."

After they sat down, Webster said, "Sir, we have a more or less complete answer to whodunit. They call themselves 'The Last Battalion.' German-Americans, technically enough, many of them from the Hudson Valley."

"East German?"

Lodge said, "No, Mister President. Our interrogation subject is, apparently, an Obersturmbahnfuehrer . . . in the Waffen-SS." He paused, then said, "Equivalent to a lieutenant colonel."

Bush stared at Lodge.

"Ah . . . General, this is . . . extraordinary."

Webster nodded. "Yes, sir, it is. But it checks out. The plan was known as Sonnenkinder, 'Children of the Sun.' When the Ardennes Offensive failed, Kaltenbrunner--Heydrich's replacement as the SS intelligence chief--knew the jig was up. So he recruited people who could be relied on to continue the fight, and sent them to America. There, they dug in, had kids, indoctrinated them, and set about planning for the day when they would inflict their revenge."

Bush sighed. "So this wasn't about winning World War 2, just a case of sour grapes."

Lodge said, "Pretty much, sir." He paused. "Sir, we have a pretty comprehensive picture of their order of battle. It goes across all four services. CID, NIS, and AFOSI are quietly rounding them up. They seem to have used the attack on Washington to get themselves inserted into the Military District of Philadelphia and the Joint Staff through some judicious lobbying that we've traced back to one Wolfgang Voelker, also known as 'Prime.' His base of operations is up in the Hudson Valley. The members of Congress he lobbied are cooperating fully."

Bush sighed. "So in addition to this war, we've got some leftovers from the last one to clean up?"

Lodge smiled. "Mister President, these particular leftovers went green and furry a few decades ago. I propose having my people throw them out tonight."

Bush glanced at Webster, who simply said, "Voelker was on our radar before the war--associating with foreign intelligence agencies, money laundering, and more than a few murders." He paused, then said, "The war forced a reprioritization of our workload, and . . . well, sir, we dropped this."

Bush nodded. "Director Webster, when you're up to your neck in alligators, you might have difficulty remembering that you also need to pick up some pork chops at the grocer. Entirely understandable. Your thoughts on Lodge's people handling this?"

Webster chuckled. "Sir, they claim to still be at war with the United States--they base that claim on the fact that the Nazi Party never surrendered, and that the Party is the supreme authority, not Admiral Doenitz. Now, far be it from me to deny them the consequences of their crazy and stupid belief system, Mr. President. They want to play with the likes of General Lodge and his people?" Webster laughed. "By all means, sir. Saves me some work. The HRT will gladly take any survivors into custody."

Lodge said, "And we will, of course, give the FBI the credit for making arrests. My people, as always, work from the shadows."

Bush nodded. "Of course."

* * *

15 April 1988
Wolf's Lair West
Near Red Hook, NY

It was dusk out. The mansion was exactly as it had looked in the photos.

"And lights out in three, two, one . . . NOW."

The lights went out in the house. Mantell watched as the emergency generator lit off and the lights came back on.

"Taxi Dancer, this is T-Bar, take down the jenny, over."

"Copy."

Four miles away, an AH-64 Apache gunner designated the west side of the house, where thermal imaging showed the generator was.

"Weapon away."

* * *

18 pounds of high explosive doesn't sound like much.

Unless it's going off less than 100 yards away, and then it's pretty damn impressive.

The shaped charge warhead cored the diesel generator's engine block and started a major fire.

"GO! GO! GO!"

* * *

Mantell's team breached the main entryway and charged up the stairs at a dead run. They broke right. Alyssa Miller's team broke left. Two Falcon teams from the Military Airlift Command Rapid Operations Support Staff followed, repeating the right/left break in the same sequence.

Master Sergeant Dobbins used the newly approved M18 shotgun, based on the SWATRIPLEX 18 prototype from the 1970s. He blew the lock apart, then spun to the side. Tech Sergeant King, the kicker, then kicked the door open and threw in a frag grenade and followed Dobbins. When the fragments blew past, Mantell charged into the room, sweeping to the right, followed by King, who swept the center of the room, and finally Dobbins swept to the left and checked behind the door.

Across the hall, they heard the Falcon team doing the same moves.

This room was empty.

"CLEAR! THREE COMING OUT!"

Mantell followed Dobbins and King, and they repeated the exercise four more times. On the last room, there were two men still alive after the grenade explosion; Mantell shot the one in his slice of the pie, and Dobbins cleaned up the other one.

"RIGHT WING CLEAR!"

He heard Miller call, "Medic!"

But it sounded . . . bored.

Mantell jogged down the hall to see Miller coming out of a room, smiling.

"What the hell? You've got wounded and you think it's funny?"

"Just look first, OK, Mantell?"

Mantell looked--and saw Wolfgang Voelker staring at his hand as one of the PJs assessed it.

It was pinned to the wall by a Sykes-Fairburn knife. His other hand was flex-cuffed to his left ankle, which made his position look even more ridiculous.

Miller chuckled. "See that big button on the wall about three feet from his hand? He was saying when I entered the room that one button press and the entire mansion would go." She chuckled again. "We are the antidote to push-button warfare. The enemy cannot push a button if you disable his hand." She then called to the PJ, "Wilson, I better get my damn knife back."

Mantell looked again. "Where were you standing when you threw the knife?"

"Right in the doorway."

Twenty feet, and she nails his hand to the wall.

Mantell looked at Miller and said, "Nice!"

Miller, he noticed, looked like everyone's kid sister when she blushed and dimpled.

* * *

16 April 1988
Doubletree Hotel
Philadelphia, PA

Mantell started awake when the phone rang. He glanced at the clock; 5:45 PM. He'd gotten about twenty minutes of nap time and realized he felt better.

He picked up the phone. "Mantell here."

"Josh?"

"What's up, Helen?"

"You available for a talk?"

"Yeah, sure. Something wrong?"

"Not really." She sighed. "Aside from everything, of course."

* * *

Josh entered the room to see Roberta staring glumly at a letter on the desk, and a worried expression on Helen's face.

"What happened?"

Helen sighed, then said, "Roberta's getting the damn gong, too. Apparently running to an armed bomb and doing an emergency render safe under fire, thus saving the lives of hundreds of people including the President, makes you an official hero."

Josh nodded. "It certainly does."

Roberta turned--and Josh was stunned by her haggard expression and red-rimmed eyes.

"Josh . . . how the hell am I going to wear that damn thing? I'm not Joshua Joseph Mantell, a Marine bred for war, son of Zachary Elias Mantell, Captain, United States Navy, Retired--"

"Deceased."

Shock and horror warred for room on Roberta's face. "Oh, God, no!"

She got up and came over to Josh, giving him a fierce hug. "I had no idea."

"Never told you. I've been . . . keeping my distance."

Helen asked softly, "Why are you doing that? When you probably need the support of friends the most?"

Josh was silent for a long moment. "Because she's your wife, Helen, and I still believe fervently in 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.' Moses didn't bring down a copy of 'The Ten Suggestions.' They are the Ten Commandments, the moral center of the civilization I am sworn to protect." He sighed. "And . . . I still love her. I can't be the third wheel. But she is still the same woman that captured my heart over seven years ago. I may have found someone else--and that's not guaranteed--but that love I had for her is still there, and Jesus H. Christ I can't handle this. I'm a fucking train wreck. I can fight wars like nobody's business, but I can't seem to handle the important things."

Roberta sighed. "Josh, wars are kinda important."

"So are things like love, and integrity, and honor."

Roberta nudged him toward the couch. "Josh, sit down. We've all got a lot to talk about."

* * *

Josh stepped out of Helen and Roberta's room and walked back to his own room.

Kathy Barzanian was there. Her uniform was neatly folded on the dresser, and she was lying naked on the bed.

"Kathy, I--"

"Come here, sireli.

Josh stepped to the bed.

"What's troubling you?"

"I feel like . . . like I've cheated on you."

"Did you actually insert Tab A into Slot B?"

"No." He lay down on the bed. "I talked to Roberta and Helen at some length. You know they're both getting the Medal on Wednesday?"

Kathy nodded. "And you love them both very dearly. Josh . . . I'm going to be Kathy Barzanian, holder of a bachelor's degree in psychology. You're not the first guy to get hung up on love and sex, and not understanding the difference. You're not the last. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I understand. Roberta is a remarkable woman. And I don't have a claim of ownership on you. So please put away your guilt and be here with me. I love you. Let yourself accept that love, and love me back as much as you can. That's all I ask of you tonight."

[Matt Wiser]

Let's see; how crowded is that gallows going to be? The would-be bombers, their handlers, those in the middle, all the way up to Volker himself. The offer would be simple if anyone wants to flip: Everyone else not rolled up, along with who met whom and where, dates, etc.. Any contact with foreign powers, financing, etc. Whoever provides any of that info gets life in Marion, period. You get out in a pine box. The others, well, they leave prison in a pine box all right, but much, much, earlier.

[Johnnie Lyle]

Let's see; how crowded is that gallows going to be? The would-be bombers, their handlers, those in the middle, all the way up to Volker himself. The offer would be simple if anyone wants to flip: Everyone else not rolled up, along with who met whom and where, dates, etc.. Any contact with foreign powers, financing, etc. Whoever provides any of that info gets life in Marion, period. You get out in a pine box. The others, well, they leave prison in a pine box all right, but much, much, earlier.

That may not be the incentive it sounds like.

Guards in Marion are not exactly going to watch their asses, and other lifers tend to be rather patriotic, if not beloved of due process or a respect for refraining from cruel and unusual.

[Johnnie Lyle]

OOC: you missed a golden opportunity to use “I am in a position to grant . . . nothing” and “you simply have no other alternative.”

[Poohbah]

OOC: you missed a golden opportunity to use “I am in a position to grant . . . nothing” and “you simply have no other alternative.”

I tried them, and neither one quite fit what I wanted.

[jemhouston]

Face it, the appeals process will be short, but legal. They'll dead in less than two years. If they go to Supermax, it's forty years in a cell 23 hrs. a day.

Mantell smiled. "She just couldn't handle that much masculinity in one go.

Great line.

[Poohbah]

17 April 1988
Doubletree Hotel
Philadelphia, PA

Josh, Kathy, Roberta, and Helen were having dinner together. Roberta had accepted Kathy with good grace, but Josh picked up on an undercurrent of jealousy--and an even deeper undercurrent of Roberta's irritation with herself for being jealous.

"I have a confession to make, Roberta."

Roberta took a sip of wine and raised an eyebrow.

"McVeigh tried to insult me by saying you left me for a woman, and my comeback was that you couldn't handle that much masculinity in one go."

Roberta laughed, but something told Josh he'd hit a nerve.

"Roberta, I--"

Roberta waved it off. "Oh, for crying out loud, you had to put him in his place. You're forgiven, dear."

* * *

Helen and Roberta sat on the couch in their room.

"You're pissed that Josh is sleeping with Kathy? Or is it that Kathy is sleeping with Josh?"

Roberta laughed. "Try both. Kathy hitting on me to get a read on Adam Lodge's friends got me to realize that not only did I have a triple helping of hormones, but they could go either way. That gave me two years to come to grips with that side of me, and allowed me to be ready for you to come into my life. And, sorry, Helen, nut even if your last name was Keller, you'd have to admit that ol' Sugar-Tits is smoking hot."

Helen giggled. "Sugar-Tits?"

"Some of us were . . . rather jealous of her figure."

"Honey, on her it's properly proportioned. On you, at merely 5-foot-6, those boobs would look . . . ridiculous."

Roberta laughed. "Point taken. As for Josh . . . well, I'm never getting a shot at heterosexual intercourse--"

Helen said, "Never say never, darling."

"I don't think Kathy would be willing to share--"

"Never. Say. Never."

Roberta laughed, then sighed. "Funny thing is . . . Josh hit the nail on the head. He really was too masculine for me to get a read on. You and I, we understand each other so . . . easily. Josh? Holy shit, still waters run deep with him. He's . . . mysterious, strong . . . "

"Primal."

Roberta looked at her wife. "Primal?"

"Oh, he hides it well behind good manners and genuine curiosity about a wide range of subjects, from science to history to how things work--and those two things make him so mysterious. But don't let those social graces and his being well-read fool you. He's passionate, powerful . . . full of life, able to love powerfully, certain of right and wrong, and a man of commitment. It draws a certain kind of woman. Like me, like Kathy . . . like you. Women who are strong, intelligent, and fully secure in being women. You weren't quite there on that last point, and that's why you never sealed the deal. You feared what would happen if you took him to your bed, because you didn't fully understand your own power and strength as a woman. He's your mirror image, honestly--and mine, and Kathy's. He is the earth to our air, the fire to our water."

Roberta considered this for long moment.

"And I threw it all away because I was hearing someone as . . . indomitable . . . as Josh tell me that he couldn't change his orders, and I went off and sulked. Like a child."

"That's the truest form of male strength. The weak male tries to bluster his way past obstacles; the strongest men weigh and assess the obstacle and their own strength, and they avoid the fights they know they'll never win . . . unless they absolutely have to fight, anyway."

* * *

Kathy listened to Josh's breathing settle down into sleep.

Rest, Josh. And know that I love you.

* * *

20 April 1988
Independence Hall
Independence National Park
Philadelphia, PA

General Dugan stared at Josh Mantell, who was sitting in a chair.

Asleep. And snoring.

"You gotta be shitting me."

Roberta giggled.

"What's so funny, Lieutenant?"

"Before the war, he was my boyfriend. And he'd sleep on the couch in my living room . . . and he'd snore. Just like this."

Dugan looked at Roberta with a suprised expression. "Really?"

"It's like he's screaming, 'I'M HAVING A LOVELY NAP!' to all of Philadelphia, sir. He's bragging."

Dugan looked at the Vice Chief of Staff, General Cunningham, who had an amused expression.

"General Dugan, sir, I'm going to defer to a subject matter expert. And ex-girlfriends know all the dirt, sir."

Dugan laughed. "Point taken."

Roberta said, "Josh . . . "

Mantell was still asleep . . . and still snoring.

"JOSH!"

Mantell started awake, said, "Uh-huh," saw Dugan and Cunningham, and bolted to attention.

And received a round of laughter from everyone in the room.

Helen said, "Hey, Josh, buddy, sorry to wake you up, but we're all three of us about to get the Medal hung around our necks . . . and it's being carried on all of the news networks live . . . "

Roberta said, "You know, we kinda thought you'd like to participate."

"Uh-huh. OK, I'm ready to go."

* * *

"The President takes pleasure in awarding, in the name of Congress, the Medal of Honor to First Lieutenant Helen C. Zangas, Bravo Troop, 1st Squadron, 4th Cavalry Regiment . . . realizing the gravity of the situation and the urgent threat posed by Third Shock Army to the right flank of Fifth Corps, Lieutenant Zangas led Bravo Troop in a desperate defense while reporting the enemy's location and strength, enabling the First Infantry Division to launch a successful counterattack that unhinged the enemy's scheme of maneuver . . . Lieutenant Zangas' extraordinary heroism, tactical skill, and uncommon valor are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon herself, the First Infantry Division, and the Army of the United States."

* * *

"The President takes pleasure in awarding the Distinguished Service Cross to First Lieutenant Helen C. Zangas, Sixth Army Headquarters, while temporarily attached to First Troop, City of Philadelphia Cavalry . . . Lieutenant Zangas remained exposed in the commander's hatch, paying no heed to the dangers of enemy small arms and cannon fire, and engaged the enemy with small arms and main gun fire to safeguard the officer disarming the bomb . . . Lieutenant Zangas' courage, devotion to duty, and coolness under fire are in keeping with the highest traditions of the Army of the United States."

* * *

"The President takes pleasure in awarding, in the name of Congress, the Medal of Honor to First Lieutenant Roberta E. Kreider, Army Corps of Engineers South Pacific Division, while temporarily attached to First Troop, City of Philadelphia Cavalry . . . upon learning that the truck bomb was armed, Lieutenant Kreider, without hesitation, grabbed her demolitions kit and began rendering the device safe . . . working coolly under fire from enemy insurgents, and with full knowledge that the bomb could explode at any moment, she disarmed the bomb, preventing almost certain fatal damage to the Presidential residence, and ensured preservation of forensic information for use in criminal prosecutions . . . Lieutenant Kreider's extraordinary heroism and uncommon valor are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon herself, the Corps of Engineers, and the Army of the United States."

* * *

"The President pleasure in awarding the Legion of Merit to First Lieutenant Roberta E. Kreider, Army Corps of Engineers South Pacific Division, Emergency Reconstruction Office, for exceptionally meritorious service while serving in a position of unusually broad responsibility . . . Lieutenant Kreider developed plans for efficiently reusing empty shipping containers as emergency housing, allowing for rapid construction of housing stock in New Mexico, and thus providing hard, insulated shelter to over 500,000 residents before the arrival of cold weather . . . Lieutenant Kreider's can-do attitude, problem-solving skills, and planning ability helped prevent a serious humanitarian crisis in New Mexico, while simultaneously easing a material bottleneck that was threatening to disrupt theater and national-level logistics . . . Lieutenant Kreider is recognized for distinguished performance of duty that represents exemplary achievement and innovation in the finest traditions of the Corps of Engineers and the Army of the United States."

* * *

"The President takes pleasure in awarding, in the name of Congress, the Medal of Honor to Gunnery Sergeant Joshua J. Mantell, Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 26th Marines, Fifth Marine Division . . . Gunnery Sergeant Mantell, as acting platoon leader, led the assault that turned the enemy's flank and allowed Echo Company to gain the tactical advantage . . . during the next two days, Gunnery Sergeant Mantell led his platoon in repelling multiple assaults by well-trained enemy troops, inspiring his Marines by his calm leadership and outstanding tactical acumen . . . his efforts led directly to the capture of over 250 Soviet nuclear weapons, providing a boon of intelligence information of crucial importance . . . Gunnery Sergeant Mantell's extraordinary heroism and uncommon valor are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, Fifth Marine Division, and the United States Marine Corps."

* * *

"The President takes pleasure in awarding the Air Force Cross to Chief Warrant Officer Joshua J. Mantell, Seventh Special Reconnaissance Squadron, 23rd Air Force . . . Chief Mantell escaped from handcuffs and subsequently killed or crippled every insurgent in the house. Upon learning that the insurgents had disabled all communications, Mantell, trusting that friendly forces were en route to his area, used linens to make a signal marker on the lawn . . . while another officer was working to disarm the bomb, Mantell fearlessly engaged the enemy insurgents, ensuring that they did not make headway, thus assisting in rendering the device safe. Chief Mantell's ingenuity, courage, coolness under fire, and devotion to duty are in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Air Force."

* * *

20 April 1988
Main Ballroom
Ritz-Carlton Hotel
Philadelphia, PA

The Valkyries had come together and formed a band, not in their garage (none of them had one), but in the women's physical rehab wing of the hastily-built Sharon Lane Army Hospital, in Rochester, Minnesota.

They'd written two songs about their war experiences, they'd covered some heartland and arena rock classics . . . and then, almost as an afterthought, they had recorded an arena rock cover of John Denver's Country Roads.

Their version of Country Roads had reached #1 on Kasey Kasem's American Top 40 in just seven weeks in early 1987, and had been one of the most requested songs on Valerie Price's AFN America Rocks show. The piece had taken the nostalgia of the original, added powerful synthesizer and bass lines, used all of lead singer Cassandra White's vocal range, and blended it all into a power ballad of love for the America of Before. In Occupied America, it had become an anthem of defiance. Being caught with a tape that included Country Roads was an automatic death sentence--and every execution for that song recruited two more to the colors.

Now, they were playing at the dinner reception for Helen, Roberta, and Josh--and the kickoff event for the 1988 War Bond Drive. Tickets for the event had been auctioned off; Cassie White had heard that the last two seats at Roberta's table (a last-minute addition) had gone to a Philadelphia businesswoman who'd paid over $25,000 for the privilege of eating indifferent grilled chicken and so-so mashed potatoes with a genuine American heroine, and for her daughter being able to hear The Valkyries live.

Right now, though, Cassie was staring at four steps up to the stage.

And cursing, yet again, being a double amputee.

A man's voice came from behind her. "Can I be of assistance?"

"I don't want to be any trouble--"

She pivoted her chair around--and gasped.

Chief Warrant Officer Joshua Mantell, in Mess Dress with miniature medals and the Medal of Honor around his neck, was smiling genially--a contrast to the focused warrior she'd seen in the footage of the previous week's firefight.

He said, "Let me guess: you're down here and you need to be up there."

"Good guess. The hotel was supposed to rig a ramp--"

Mantell sighed. "Kind of short notice, what with the Secret Service having to approve any changes to the room."

"Oh."

"Hey, don't worry. Just hang on to the chair, I'll get you onto the stage."

"Are you sure you can do this?"

The smile widened. "Yes."

He squatted down, activated the brakes on the wheel chair, grabbed the wheel rims firmly--and stood up.

And then walked up the stairs.

Cassie was astonished to hear his breathing remain steady.

He set the chair down on the stage, adjusted his uniform, and said, "You good?"

Cassie sighed, feeling the tension come out of her. "I'm real good." She looked up at him and asked, "How do you do that so easily?"

"I'm jump qualified. You have to have high levels of fitness and upper body strength to survive Jump School."

Cassie laughed. "That would explain you handling a 240 Bravo like it was a BB gun."

Mantell smiled. "I guess so. Looking forward to the concert."

* * *

After the receiving line, Mantell had proceeded to his assigned table to welcome the guests who would sit with him.

A familiar-looking man came up and said, "Warrant Officer Mantell?"

Mantell said, "Yes, sir."

"Senator Kerrey, from Nebraska."

Mantell snapped to attention and saluted.

"At ease!"

"Sir, you're senior to me by about 18 years."

"Oh, that." He waved his hand. "I did what I had to do."

"Same here, sir."

Kerrey nodded. "Then we understand each other."

* * *

"Hi, Josh."

Mantell turned and smiled. "Kathy! You look amazing!"

"Thank you."

She was in mess dress, with the floor-length skirt. Josh said, "ladies and gentlemen, may I present Major Katherine Barzanian, my guest for this evening." Josh introduced her around the table, and got a smile and a wink from Kerrey.

* * *

Josh answered questions about everything from what boot camp was like (this from a worried mother), to what Special Reconnaissance did (answered in very broad terms). In turn, Josh asked the other guests about their professions, what Philadelphia was like, and where the good used bookstores were.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's music is provided by The Valkyries."

They went through a few of their regular songs: Wheel in the Sky, Hungry for Heaven, You Can Still Rock in America, Renegade, Have You Ever Seen the Rain, Barracuda, and Heavy is the Heart, a song written by bassist Rebecca Parks about her experience of the Battle of Lebanon, Missouri.

Then Cassie announced, "This will be coming out on our second album, due out this summer. Let's see you folks dance a little more, OK?"

Familiar chords sounded, and Josh flashed back to seeing Streets of Fire with Roberta.

There was a tap on his shoulder.

Roberta asked, "May I have this dance?"

Josh glanced at Kathy, who was standing next to Helen--and was surprised to see both of them giving the thumbs-up.

He led Roberta out onto the dance floor, and they moved slowly.

Cassie began singing, and Josh realized that she was one of the few women with a voice strong enough for the song.

I've got a dream 'bout an angel on the beach
And the perfect waves are starting to come
His hair is flying out in ribbons of gold
And his touch has got the power to stun

I've got a dream 'bout an angel in the forest
Enchanted by the edge of a lake
His body's flowing in the jewels alive
And the earth below is starting to shake

But I don't see any angels in the city
I don't hear any holy choirs sing
And if I can't get an angel
I can still get a boy
And a boy'll be the next best thing
The next best thing to an angel
A boy'll be the next best thing

The tempo picked up, and they stepped into a quick-step tango.

I've got a dream 'bout a boy in a castle
And he's dancing like a cat on the stairs
He's got the fire of a prince in his eyes
And the thunder of a drum in his ears

I've got a dream 'bout a boy on a star
Lookin' down upon the rim of the world
He's there all alone and dreamin' of someone like me
I'm not an angel but at least I'm a girl

I've got a dream when the darkness is over
We'll be lyin' in the rings of the sun
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real
You'll never know what it means
But you'll know how it feels
It's gonna be over (over)
Before you know it's begun
(Before you know it's begun)

It's all we really got tonight
Stop your cryin' hold on (tonight)
Before you know it it's gone (tonight)
Tonight is what it means to be young
Tonight is what it means to be young

"Remember when we saw that movie, Josh?"

Mantell nodded.

"I thought you were Tom Cody--until realized I was. I didn't want to be second banana."

Let the revels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the desperate and the broken-hearted
Say a prayer in the darkness for the magic to come
No matter what it seems
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone

The song went into the bridge, and Josh signaled for a turn, and then swept Roberta across the floor, dipping her halfway through the bridge.

* * *

Kathy was staring at Josh and Roberta.

"Jesus, Helen, why don't they get a room?"

"I'm not complaining, Kathy. And you shouldn't be, either. Both of them are going to be on fire in our respective beds tonight."

* * *

After another round of songs--Seven Wishes, Hold on Loosely, Hearts on Fire, Road of the Gypsy, Santa Ana Winds, The Best of Times, Get Out of Denver, and Does Anybody Really Fall In Love Any More?, Cassie said, "All right, Philadelphia, I'm pretty sure you all know at least the chorus of this one, and I want you people singing along with us!"

There was an instrumental opening, the familiar chorus played on keyboard, chimes, and bass guitar with Cassie playing electric violin, followed by the main melody, all played with a sense of grandeur and joy, seeming to say: Life is far more than breathing, eating, sleeping; it is hope, beauty, love, and when you recognize that, you defy the darkness.

And then Cassie sang:

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Blue ridge mountains, Shenandoah river
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, growin' like a breeze

And then the audience joined in the chorus:

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong . . .

Josh had heard artillery barrages that were quieter.

* * *

Back in their hotel room, Roberta kissed Helen fervently, then whispered in her ear, "Help me forget him. If only for tonight."

* * *

"Sireli."

Josh recognized the Armenian word for "darling" or "beloved."

"Yes, my love?"

"Tomorrow, you head out on the rubber chicken circuit . . . and I go back to pushing paper at King of Prussia. So, tonight . . . let's not spend time talking, or promising each other forever. Let's just be in this moment together."

Josh pulled Kathy to him.

* * *

April 21st, 1988
Doubletree Hotel Driveway
Philadelphia, PA

News anchor Thomas Cortone asked, "Chief Mantell, any last words for Philadelphia as you head out to support the War Bond Drive?"

Josh smiled. "Yes, sir. Buy War Bonds, Philadelphia. Make me proud!"

Cortone smiled and said, "And on that note, I'm Tom Cortone with News 27. Back to you, Diane."

* * *

To be continued

[Matt Wiser]

Good one.

[jemhouston]

Excellent.

[Wolfman]

Very well done!

[Poohbah]

10 May 1988
Doubletree Suites
Phoenix, AZ

Mantell took his room key from the clerk and turned to go to the elevators . . .

. . . and saw Roberta and Helen stepping away from another clerk.

"Let me guess, the billeting officer laughed in your faces, too?"

Helen said, "Yup. Turns out our stuff has been unceremoniously dumped in 315."

"Hot damn. I'm in 316, right next door."

Roberta chuckled. "You'd think the gong would give us billeting priority."

Mantell said, "It did. This is field grade country. No drinking beer straight out of the bottle for me anymore."

* * *

11 May 1988
Headquarters, 7th Special Reconnaissance Squadron "Garryowen"
Williams Air Force Base
Phoenix, AZ

"Sir, Chief Warrant Officer Mantell reports!"

Colonel Brett Ishizake saluted Mantell smartly, and Mantell returned the salute.

"Morning, Chief. At ease, have a seat, please."

Ishizake offered Mantell coffee, which he accepted. They talked about the weather and the billeting situation.

Finally, the CO got down to business. "I'm afraid that we don't have any flights available at this time. This is not a reflection on you, or that gong. I do intend to get my money's worth out of you, but I'm not disrupting my flight leaders' command tours to do it. Now, I did have a chat with the Deputy G-3 for Air Ops out at I MEF, Major General Petersen, and he told me about you being very widely read, able to chase down facts, and in general being a helluva lot smarter than most people would guess--and he was remembering you as an E-2. I'm handing you off to Lieutenant Colonel Zens, she's our A-3. We got handed a tasker that honestly is a little crazy; I want a fresh set of eyes on it to help make sense of it."

"Hooah, sir."

* * *

"Ma'am, Chief Warrant--"

Lieutenant Colonel Brittany Zens stood up and saluted, and Mantell did likewise. "I don't do spit and polish and jumping up and down--well, except for saluting the Medal. All right. Sit down, let's go over this tasker."

Mantell read the FRAGO message and nodded. "Ma'am, this may sound odd, but it makes sense to me on a gut-sense level. If you don't mind me asking, where are you from?"

"Thermopolis, Wyoming. Mostly known for mineral hot springs. You?"

"San Diego, California, mostly known for being next door to Tijuana."

Zens sat back in her chair. "You probably know more about this than I do, then. But I need more than your gut."

"Understood, ma'am."

* * *

Mantell sat down with topographic maps and began sketching the sea level curve in Imperial Valley, and then drew a broad channel from the head of the Sea of Cortez to El Centro. He then filled in the curve with blue, signifying water.

He took a second map and marked off Morelos Dam, which diverted the Colorado River from its delta to human use--farming, and supporting Tijuana's 2 million people.

* * *

"All right, ma'am, here's what I've got. This first map is a thought experiment to set the stage. Suppose the topography of Sinaloa state was a tad different, and the Colorado River had found a shorter path to sea level that completely avoided what's now the Imperial Valley." He put the first map down on the conference table.

Zens traced the new "shoreline" with a finger. "Wait, the sea would go up to . . . what's this town here . . . Coachella?"

"Yes, ma'am. Interstate 8 would require a causeway about 15 miles long. and there'd probably be a port at Coachella that would cheerfully raise holy hell over the idea. That's the Salton Trough. The Salton Sea got formed by accident--a canal that was diverting Colorado River water failed and the water went into the trough."

Mantell then laid down the second map. "Ma'am, there are two events that are running in parallel. First, the Army is blooding new units by basing them in the Imperial Valley and using them for raids into the Mexicali Valley. Second, the Air Force is interdicting Highway 2, here. Hell, we took over the entire Morelos Dam and the spillway that reroutes the river for agricultural use and for almost nobody knows about it. I didn't know about it, that's for sure."

"All right, so we own a chunk of Mexico already. And that means?"

"Ma'am, that's just reinforcing a trend that was already there, going back to the days of the California Missions and His Most Catholic Majesty Philip of Spain granting land patents. Commerce runs north-south in Baja."

Zens snorted. "Of course it does. The general orientation is north-south . . . "

Her voice trailed off. "I'm not 100% following your argument, but this map is . . . well, it's trying really hard to tell me something, and I'm not quite getting it."

"That trend didn't stop at the US-Mexican border, ma'am. Let's go back to old names, because they tell the story far better than the ones we gringos use. Baja California was always far more connected to Alta California than to Sonora, on the other side of the Colorado River Delta. There's exactly one road across the Delta, it runs right next to the US-Mexican Border, and we use it to break in Hog drivers." The only commerce with the mainland is cabotage--"

"Cabotage?"

"Sailing from one port to another in the same country. So, the only way stuff gets to Baja is through La Paz and Cabo San Lucas, where it gets loaded on trucks, and would you care to guess how Navy Pacific Fleet carrier air wings and submarines work up for WESTPAC deployments, ma'am?"

"They go after the ships and the trucks."

"Exactly. Now, here's the kicker, ma'am. With all that we're doing to make their lives miserable, the folks in Baja should absolutely freaking hate us."

Zens nodded. "They should."

"They don't, ma'am. We get a good 'chute over Baja, we're damn near guaranteed to get the aircrew back in a week. 96% recovery rate, either via ARRS direct or they get ratlined to a pickup. Apparently, you have to land practically on top of a garrison to get captured. Night losses? If we got a good 'chute, 100% recovery. Word is the garrisons are afraid to go outside the wire at night. Ma'am, that sounds like a Stage II insurgency to me."

"Walk me through insurgency stages, please."

"Stage 1: build forces and networks. Recruit the disaffected. Establish secure areas for your people to use as bases of operations, training, build command and control networks, et cetera. Engage in propaganda and psychological operations. Labor unrest, and start separating the people from the government, by making the government think the people hate them, and vice versa. Commit bank robberies for walking-around-and-blowing-shit-up money, etc. Next comes Stage 2: guerilla warfare. Attacking infrastructure to show that the government is weak and ineffective, hit and run operations against military forces hunting the guerillas, assassinating the more moderate government officials--"

"Why those guys?"

"It gets rid of adult supervision and lets the hardliners do stupid stuff, ma'am. The government ends up recruiting new insurgents."

"Got it. OK, stage one, recruit, build strength, agitate, steal money, flip the bird to the powers that be, got it. Stage 2 is actually killing people and breaking things . . . show that you're on the rise and the suits are going to go down. What's next?"

"If the government doesn't address the issues that radicalize people in stage 1, and don't get a handle on things in stage 2, at some point, things move from guerilla warfare to open confrontation. They're engaging in force-on-force operations. Hit-and-run is no longer the main theme; they're not harrassing the military, they're fighting them, and the operational goal is no longer to show that the government is weak; the government is now so weak that the insurgents are working to replace them as a new government. Victory is at hand if the insurgents and government continue to perform at the same relative levels."

Zens looked at the maps again. "You're saying we can kick off an insurgency in Baja."

"No, ma'am. I'm saying one's already underway. I'm saying we can ride this pony to a big win at Agua Caliente."

"What's the insurgents' goal?"

"They want gringos to come down, spend money, drink beer and margaritas, eat street tacos, bet on horse races at Agua Caliente, dance the night away, and have a good time, ma'am. That's all they want. And I suspect they don't care how they get it. The guys from the DF are saying, 'Over my dead body,' and the locals are saying 'that's the plan, pendejos.' We'd probably get massive cheers if we annexed the peninsula. Maybe we need to send some teams down there to do the special reconnaissance thing and see what the local goobermint and military garrisons are saying about the situation . . . and then we need to figure out how to get our pony to the Winner's Circle."

"Chief . . . Sweet Baby Jeebus, that's ambitious."

"Audentis Fortuna juvat, ma'am."

[Matt Wiser]

OOC: Congratulations-you just laid the groundwork for what happens later on... the U.S. move into Baja at the end of the war at the request of both Baja states...in both this version and the canon version.

[jemhouston]

Which brings up the question, who started the process in the first place? A US OGA or someone in Mexico who didn't like what happened in Mexico City.

[Poohbah]

Which brings up the question, who started the process in the first place? A US OGA or someone in Mexico who didn't like what happened in Mexico City.

You'd need someone with an ability to take a lot of disparate data that collected by people who aren't in the habit of talking to each other and reaching a counter-intuitive conclusion from it.

Gee, I wonder who might fit that description.

[Matt Wiser]

Someone who, in the main timeline, helped lay the groundwork for BOLO II and is busy in some "Wretched hive of scum and villainy" in recently-liberated Kansas?