That authorization marker appeared again and again in the tactical records from Paris's underground evacuation tunnels, as though someone feared posterity might miss who was responsible and had deliberately stamped Gene Smilas's name on every round.
More importantly, when Smilas himself saw the first operation report, he thought the secretariat had entered the casualty figures incorrectly.
"Explain this to me. What do you mean, seven commissioners confirmed dead?"
The chief of staff stood before the screen, his expression even grimmer than Smilas's. "The committee's first evacuation convoy refused to stop. Their guards opened fire on the units enforcing the blockade first. After completing friend-or-foe identification, the opposing units destroyed the lead vehicle with a Linear Cannon. Seven confirmed dead, eleven wounded, thirty-two detained. The remaining vehicles were stopped."
"I ordered you to secure the administrative district, not kill the commissioners!"
"General, our fire-control authorization was approved through your emergency military key."
"I never gave those units any orders!"
"They're connected to the Military Order Restoration Network you just activated."
Smilas stared at the units on the screen. They were indeed using E.U. emergency identification codes. Their routes, operational zones, and target lists closely matched the contingency plan he had drafted years ago. Even the procedural order requiring evacuation convoys to undergo identity checks first was correct.
The chief of staff lowered his voice. "General, we must issue an immediate clarification stating that some of the armed forces in Paris do not belong to the E.U. military."
Smilas began to hesitate. A public clarification meant admitting that, after he had launched an emergency military takeover, a foreign armed force beyond his control was using his key in the capital.
That would instantly turn his newly established Supreme Military Coordination Office into a laughingstock. The Paris garrison would return to sitting on