"The North AS20 Supersonic Missile is ready."
"Launch."
One supersonic missile after another shot into the sky and sped steadily toward its target.
Far away on another continent, American president Hodgson received word the moment the missiles took flight.
He had learned of it so quickly not because his country's satellites could detect missiles the instant they launched, but because his country's Intelligence Department was good. Someone had secretly passed along the news as soon as the order was given.
"Gaul's military launched missiles? Has Bilborn gone mad?" Inside the White House, an adviser looked incredulous as he heard the president read out the report.
The targets were in Gaul itself, in densely populated areas. How many people would die when those missiles struck? How would Bilborn face the anger of their families and everyone who sympathized with them?
"Could the report be false?" the adviser asked.
"The report can't be false!"
McDonald, who had made himself practically invisible since entering the room, glanced at the adviser as he spoke. He was in charge of the Intelligence Department. Questioning the report's accuracy was a slap in his face.
"I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn." The adviser's heart lurched, and he hurried to apologize.
Ever since America's Intelligence Department was founded, none of its chiefs had been people to cross. No one knew how much dirt they had on anyone.
A few damaging secrets made public could spark a scandal. At best, the person involved would be humiliated; at worst, they would have to resign.
After that, McDonald closed his eyes and rested in the corner. Sweat immediately beaded on the adviser's forehead.
Hodgson ignored the terrified adviser and turned to Hyde, his expert on Gaul. "Mr. Hyde, why do you think Bilborn did this?"
"Bilborn must have a trump