"Yes, General," he whispered to the screen, keeping his face expressionless.
"I need to see you right away," Browning said. "There's been a slight change in plans."
He looked out at the briefing room helplessly and then back at his boss's image. "Yes, General," he said. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
He was actually there in seven minutes, his worry causing his pace to unconsciously increase. He walked through the security layers and into Browning's office, finding him sitting behind his desk, sipping on his third or fourth rum and coke of the day and smoking nervously.
Wilde didn't bother saluting, not even the phony, jerk-off salute he normally offered. He simply sat down and lit a cigarette of his own. "A change in plans, General?" he asked.
"It's nothing major," Browning told him. "Just a shift in targets."
"A shift in targets?"
Browning nodded. "What do you think about attacking New Pittsburgh instead?"
Wilde licked his lips, sure he wasn't hearing correctly. "New Pittsburgh?" he asked. "What do you mean? The strike is lining up to hit the Eden rail network. Are you saying you want to take out the Alexander Industries plant first? I thought we'd agreed that..."
"No, you don't understand," Browning said. "We're going to occupy New Pittsburgh with our ground forces. Eden has been scrubbed. NP is the new priority."
Wilde was quite literally speechless. What in the hell was this madman talking about? Occupy New Pittsburgh instead of Eden? Why in the hell would they do that? Especially at this late stage of the game?
"Are you okay, Wilde?" Browning asked, concerned. "You look a little pale."
"I'm sorry, sir," he said, feeling like he was in a dream. "But did you just say that we are attacking New Pittsburgh instead of Eden? That our entire occupation zone is being changed?"
"Yes, that's correct," Browning said. "Is that a problem?"
"Is it... is it..." He shook his head and took a few deep breaths. "This is your idea of 'nothing major'?"
"It's just another city on the surface," Browning said. "We'll just need to reprogram our targeting and entry coordinates and update the marching orders. New Pittsburgh is almost as big a rail hub as Eden and it's also the capitol, where Laura Whiting and that terrorist puke Jackson live. The Executive Council feels that if we are only able to take one city that it should be their capitol where we can capture their leadership. They think that maybe that might foment the surrender of the other cities without requiring further task forces to travel here."
"Sir," Wilde said, "you'll forgive me if I say that's the most asinine thing I've ever heard. We've got pilots in their final briefing right now. They're being assigned targets in the Eden area so they can isolate that city for our invasion. They're within two hours of launching on the biggest space strike since the Jupiter War!"
Browning simply shrugged. "As I said, the target has now shifted. We'll have them stand down and we'll send them out in eight hours against New Pittsburgh. That way we can hit their ammunition plant and take out their rail network all in one strike. And it will be a smaller strike too, won't it? It won't be as difficult to isolate New Pittsburgh since there are less rail junctions to worry about."
"Sir," Wilde said, trying one last time, "you're talking about a complete change in flight missions. It will take much more than eight hours to plan out the sort of strike you're talking about."
"Eight hours, twelve hours, hell... we can go eighteen if we need to. The important thing is that we need to shift our priorities immediately. It's the Executive Council's orders."
"Jesus," Wilde muttered, feeling a flare of his own ulcer now. "Who is behind this? I know the Executive Council isn't suddenly trying to think rationally. I smell corporate lobbyists behind this decision."
"Well... now that you mention it," Browning said, "Ms. Williams did mention to me that Standard Steel and Corrigan Industries were a bit upset that New Pittsburgh — which is where their very operations are based — was going to be left in Martian hands for the indeterminate future. You see, they want their city liberated so they can resume operations as quickly as possible and start supplying the tanks and steel needed for the liberation of the rest of the planet."
"But what about Eden?" Wilde said. "It's the central rail hub and the center of the entire agricultural region! We can paralyze transportation on that planet if we take that city! We can cut the Martian food production in half. We can't let a bunch of corporate heads make our military decisions for us!"
"They didn't make the decision," Browning said coldly. "They suggested it to me and I made the decision. I resent the implication that I would bow to corporate pressure in my military planning."
Wilde clenched his fists in rage for a second and then slowly released them. He took a few breaths, closed his eyes, and tried to remain calm. After a moment or two of this an idea occurred to him. "Okay," he said. "I think this can work and that maybe we can even turn it to our advantage."
"Now that's the spirit," Browning said.
"The important part is that we keep this from the media."
"What?" Browning said.
"We let them think the main target is still Eden. We hit New Pittsburgh with the AA-71s in one massive strike at this time tomorrow and then we send down the landing ships forty-eight hours later. That way we'll catch the Martians off-guard."
Browning was already shaking his head. "You know my thoughts on lying to the press," he said. "We can't keep them in the dark about this major change in plans."
"I thought it was a minor change in plans," Wilde said.
"Don't play word games with me, Major," Browning said angrily. "I brought you up here so you could put together a new briefing for the big three reps onboard. I want our updated plans released to them within three hours."
"Sir... that's madness!" he protested.
"It's also an order," Browning said. "Get that briefing drawn up and on my desk within two hours. I want preliminary times, dates, numbers, and targets of the space strikes. I want an outline of the defenses we'll be up against and how we plan to smash through them. I'll call Admiral Spears and tell him to get a new plan together. You can coordinate with him as needed."
"But, sir..." Wilde said.
"That's an order, Major. Get to it."
Wilde sighed, feeling the war slipping through his fingers once again. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'll get right on it."
General Jackson was sound asleep in his usual place these days — the couch in his office. He was still wearing his MPG shorts and T-shirt and had a two-day growth of beard on his face. He was awakened by Major Tim Sprinkle, the head of MPG Intelligence, shaking him.
"Yeah, Tim," he said with a yawn when his head had cleared enough for coherent speech. "What is it? The space strike?"
"No, General," he said. "They've called it off."
"Called it off?"
Sprinkle nodded, smiling. "I think your gamble might have paid off. I think you should turn on InfoServe, sir. They're carrying a briefing live."
He rolled out of his bed and then looked up at the ceiling. "Computer," he said. "Show InfoServe primary."
"InfoServe primary coming on line," the computer replied.
The screen flared to life, showing a podium where General Browning was standing in his camouflage fatigues and addressing the WestHem press. The caption at the bottom read "Live from WSS Nebraska".
"So it is felt," said Browning, "that since New Pittsburgh is both more strategically located and easier to isolate, and, that since it is the source of most of the weaponry these Martian terrorists are using to attack our brave troops in the field, and, most importantly, it is the focus of much of the insurgent activity on Mars and home to the leaders of this insurgency — namely Laura Whiting and Kevin Jackson — that it should be the target of the coming operations."