"What is it?" he asked.
She tried to wipe away the tears as she replied. "I thought you'd be so mad."
"Why on earth would you think that?"
She sobbed once more. "I don't know."
"I came in here expecting the worst, and I've got the two best pieces of news I could ever hope for, and never for a moment dreamt could be true. We just have to get you out of there. I'll find a way to get to you, don't you worry."
She shook her head, and her face suddenly tightened and became more serious.
"No, you will not."
"What?"
"I'm already out of this fight. I won't have you as well. You have people who need you. Taylor needs you."
"They'll understand."
"No, they'd accept you leaving, but they might not survive it. I'm safe here."
"But..."
"No," she said firmly, "I will not have you leave your post because of me. You will stay there and do your duty."
He wanted to fight her on it, but he could see the determination in her eyes. The door beside Jones opened, and the man who had led him in there poked his head around the corner.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but we need to free up the line."
"All right."
He turned back to her.
"I have to go, but you look after yourself, you hear?"
"I will, look after both of us," she said with a smile, "Good luck, Charlie."
The screen went black, and Jones shook his head in astonishment.
"Stubborn fool," he muttered to himself with a smile.
His mind was reeling as he left the room to join Taylor and the other officers, who he found to be in deep conversation. Mitch could see the look on Jones' face and suspected the worst. Without interrupting the discussion, he looked into Jones' eyes and mimed the words, 'you okay?' Jones shrugged and nodded, but Taylor couldn't tell if he was genuinely okay, or if his stiff upper lip attitude would give the impression he was either way.
"Colonel?"
Taylor hadn't even noticed Heath calling his name.
"Colonel Taylor?"
He snapped out of his concern for his friend and turned to the General; he looked far from impressed by his lack of attention.
"Think you can handle that, Colonel?"
"Yes...yes, Sir."
"I need everyone under my command at one hundred percent, Colonel, so get your head in the game."
He simply nodded in return.
"Then you all know what to do. We're in this for the long haul. Dig deep. We need everything you have got to give. Keep your people together. Keep the morale high, and keep up the fight. That will be all."
Taylor turned and left with Jones. It immediately struck him as strange that his friend did not enquire about what was discussed with the Generals after having missed the entire briefing. His mind was elsewhere. Mitch stopped and put his hand out to stop Jones, who would have gone on not having noticed otherwise.
"Come on, spit it out."
"What?"
"You’ve got some news, Charlie. It's obviously a big deal. Let's hear it."
"Coco, she's okay, and so is our unborn child."
It was the last thing Taylor was expecting to hear, and he didn't know what to say.
"I know, still can't believe it myself."
"Well...that's great," replied Taylor.
He tried to be convincing, but he couldn’t hide the overwhelming feeling he had, that it was the worst timing in the world, and Jones could tell.
"I know. I know what you're thinking, and don't think I don't feel it too. But those are the facts of it, and now we just have to deal with it."
"So what are you gonna do?"
"About what?"
"Your wife is the middle of a warzone, and you're the other side of the World."
"I know that, but she told me to stay. Coco said I had to stay here, and keep doing what we're doing."
"And you don't have a problem with that?"
"Of course I do, but I don't see how I can help. Over there is a war zone, over here is a war zone. Let's grind these bastards down and break them over these walls, and then worry about it."
Taylor was surprised he wasn’t rushing off to be by Dubois' side, but he was glad of it.
"So what's the plan?"
"Heath has allocated us an area to defend. It doesn't really get any more complex."
He looked out for the ride that had got them there, but the mule was nowhere to be seen. The crude and utilitarian flatbed transport was luxury, compared to having to walk after the long days they had experienced.
"Great," muttered Taylor.
He stopped for a moment and looked around at their surroundings, realising they were in the remains of downtown Baltimore. A few storefronts made up part of a wall nearby. Cars and brickwork had been piled high beside them, and the whole lot filled with concrete and other materials.
"Looks like a wasteland fortress."
"You know why?" asked Taylor, "Because it is."
He could see the command post had been built from the remnants of a subway station. The city was a continuous layer upon layer of walls, trenches, and barricades. Paths were no wider than a few metres, and the walls every block or two made sure no armoured vehicles could pass within the city limits. Gun towers lay camouflaged within the upper floors of the last remaining floors of tower blocks.
"You know how often in history a fortress like this has ever held out?"
"I know."
"Fortresses like this exist to hold long enough for reinforcement on the ground. Think that kind of aid is coming?"
"We can only hope."
They carried on back to their own unit on foot. Everywhere they looked, troops were digging in, improving defences, or ready and awaiting an attack.
"You have to know this is the worst we've ever had it, Mitch?"
"Yep."
"They hit us when we we're at our weakest, and they hit us harder than ever before. You really think digging in like this is the way?"
"What else can we do?"
"What you normally do when facing vastly superior numbers and firepower. Fall back. Don't take them head on."
"A guerrilla war?"
"Yes," replied Jones.
"The day we do that is the day we accept we have already lost."
Jones said nothing more of it as they continued on. Half the troops they passed were fresh and clean and had clearly not seen action yet. The other half looked like they'd been through several months of combat, not the last few hard days.
"And if this city falls?"
"What about it?"
"Stalingrad, you know your history. You know what happened to the Germans who survived that fight."
Taylor nodded. It sent a shiver down his spine as he remembered what he had read of those events from so many years ago; starvation, and brutal and bitter bloodshed followed by long and painful deaths in prisoner of war camps, with the most atrocious of conditions.
"And if you think they had it bad, you have no idea what this enemy will do to us."
Jones knew all too well, and that made Taylor hold his tongue. Not another word was spoken until they finally found their own ships and people in sight.
"This is it, this is where Heath wants us to stay."
"And the birds?"
"Nowhere safer for them to go than where they are."
Jones shook his head. They both knew it was another sign of bad times. Taylor carried on to towards King and a Grey who stood chatting beside one of the craft. The few hundred troops of Inter-Allied were scattered about, mostly doing little more than resting their weary legs.
"All right, gather around!" Taylor ordered.
Most stayed put and only those further out wandered into hearing distance.
"Our orders are simple! We hold this ground!"
It came as little surprise to any of them.