Jace’s eyes widened, and, for a moment, he feared the lieutenant had come for revenge.
“Yes, sir,” Crane confirmed with a sense of urgency. He was covered in dirt and grime, as were the two others. Now Jace also recognized him. “Colt sent me. We drove all night to warn you about a gigantic invasion force that crossed our southern border yesterday.”
Luther laughed, gesturing to Jace. “Did you hear that? Your brother is playing a prank on us.”
“No, Mr. President,” said the older, burly sergeant, his face bristling with stubble. “Captain Irons and I saw them. I can give you details, like their symbol—an ochre banner with a black step-pyramid and a green sun. They have balloons and these other flying machines that Captain Irons called airships. They’re bringing vehicles, guns, artillery, and more soldiers than ants at a picnic.”
“Sounds like the Anáhuac Federation,” said Pickett.
All eyes turned to the turncoat. The council members stopped their discussion and moved closer, anxiety etched in their expressions. Jace could have heard a fly land.
“But I heard they suffered a plague and were wiped out,” Luther responded. “And before that, the constant infighting and assassinations. They’re supposed to be primitive and disorganized.”
Pickett nodded. “They did suffer a bout of plague about fifteen years ago, but I ran into some pirate types who travel all down the coast. They said the Anáhuac have a new charismatic leader the people rally behind. Nothing this soldier has reported surprises me.”
Jace watched his father pale, his bottom lip trembling. “Crane, you other two, everybody, into the Command Room. Tell us everything.”
They filed in. Vice President Reagan barely slipped in before Colonel Vexler locked the door, leaving Pickett and the attendants in the hallway. The department heads clamored into their seats, eyes alert, pulses pounding.
Jace felt lost, completely out of his element. In his distress, he made a rare move and spoke. “Why didn’t Colt bring us the news?”
“He had to remain in command at his post,” Lieutenant Crane answered.
The awareness hit Jace like a hammer. If this report were correct, his big brother could already be dead. That tiny outpost couldn’t stand before a huge invasion force. He was aware of men saying things like “hundreds of thousands” and “as far as we could see,” while memories of Colt raced through his mind. Jace realized that, although he’d spent his life jealous of his brother, he’d simultaneously admired him, wishing he could be like the golden boy. Believing he couldn’t, he’d rebelled with partying and a lack of restraint. Since being called to his father’s side, Jace had put away wild living to step into Colt’s shoes. Even now, he found them far too big for him.
“Well, we have to do something!” Luther exclaimed. “We have to do it now, before they reach Dominion.”
“Let me send scouts in balloons and on motorcycles to confirm the reports,” Vexler proposed. “After all, this is Crane’s son bringing us this news. It must be verified so we don’t act rashly.”
“And how long will that take?” Dalia Ren asked.
“A day or two,” Vexler confirmed.
“Our entire army is in Verdancia,” Beatrice Graves reminded the council. “It will take them days to return after they receive their orders. We can’t wait.”
“And if this report is a gross exaggeration?” Vexler fisted his hands on the table and crushed a matchstick between his teeth.
“Airships,” Dr. Venz mumbled, staring at a bare spot on the wall. “Lost genius. Robots. The Oligarchy did it. They should be mine.”
“What is this?” Luther thundered. Fear Jace had never seen on his father’s face gripped every feature. “We invade one country—a necessity to feed our population—and suddenly we’re facing three enemies at once?”
“We still don’t know why Appalachia got involved in the Battle of Stonevale,” Dalia said. “General Roundtree stated clearly that they attacked both armies.”
“None of that matters if these Anáhuac invaders capture my capital,” Luther said, his voice rising. “Reverend Quell, what should we do?” He turned to the religious leader in near panic.
“This is indeed an unforeseen and disturbing development.” Quell steepled his fingers, remaining calm as others’ voices rose. “The most pragmatic approach is to move forward with both proposals at once. The colonel is correct that we require more intelligence gathering about the new threat. Our government received no declaration of war, no warning whatsoever this army was driving north. But it is also a prudent move to recall our troops at once so the army can arrive before the infidel invaders. I’ve heard they worship the sun. Idolaters. Pagans. Worse than Verdancian heretics or Appalachian cultists. Do they still practice human sacrifices? Surely, God is on our side, but we still need the military for Him to use in our defense.”
“Maddox Crane.” The name spilled from Luther’s mouth, dripping with regret. “We need Maddox Crane. Beatrice, Bram, why did you convince me to make an example of him? We should have just locked him up. Oh, God, help us!”
Elbows on the table, Luther buried his face in his hands and sobbed.
“I’ll write up the retreat orders,” Vice President Reagan offered. “They will reflect the urgency of our situation, and I’ll send redundant pigeons in case one doesn’t make it.”
“And I’ll send scouts south immediately,” Vexler vowed. Even he looked nervous now.
Jace’s father raised his gaze, rubbing away tears. “Hundreds of thousands? Dalia, how many troops have we lost in Verdancia?”
“The casualty numbers we’ve received are only estimates,” she said and bit her lip. She twisted a ring around her finger. “Twenty-five … thirty thousand?”