Chapter Twelve: Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

Alarms began sounding throughout the entire complex. McFarlane awoke, and ran immediately to the control room. On the way, he ran into Lex and Delasso.

"What the hell is going on around here?" he screamed as to be heard over the alarms blaring through the building.

"Something to do with America and Russia?" Delasso inquired in reply.

"Or our phantom boomer." Lex quipped. The three ran down the halls, moving at full speed toward the control room.

Upon arriving, McFarlane was greeted with a face he had not seen in years: Gen. Forbes. McFarlane knew this was not a good sign; the Chief of Defence never shows up on a doorstep without the worst news.

"General, what is going on around here? What reason do you have for showing up in the middle of the night and waking me up?"

"Commander, I won't lie to you. You did an excellent job in Cuba. We want the 64E in full production, but we can't find the plans for it. So, as a substitute, we're taking the prototype."

McFarlane was stunned. The thought of them taking Deathwing from him was enough to bring him to full rage. He knew it would cost him dearly, but he had no choice.

"You take that chopper, and I'll have your head mounted on my wall." McFarlane growled. Lex, who had stuck behind him, moved along his side. Delasso followed suit. Within seconds, the entire command staff was circling McFarlane.

"And also, any more military action taken by your team will immediately lead to a dishonourable discharge. Any questions?" Gen. Forbes stated, trying to mask his fear. But McFarlane knew better. He knew Forbes would piss his pants at any second.

"I've got one. When do I get the chance to blow your fucking brains out!" Delasso screamed, lunging at Forbes. McFarlane grabbed him in mid-air, and flung him to the side.

Turning his gaze to the general, he said, "There'll be another day, Delasso."

McFarlane watched helplessly, watching his Apache, Deathwing, fly into the night. But the moment of serenity was shattered by alarms once again. The crowd that had gathered moved back inside, and moved on to the control room.

"Tara, what's happening - " McFarlane saw the screen. A map of Russia, with a radiation symbol over St. Petersburg. But the worst thing about it was what was heard over the intercom.

"You dare to strike against us? We are prepared for war!" This was the voice of President Petrov.

"Petrov, we could say the same about you attacking Los Angeles! We could say that a Typhoon went in, launched, and managed to sink California!" the other voice said. This voice being President Ballard.

"We did not attack you. But if you have the guts to attack and deny it, then be prepared for our wrath!" The connection immediately died.

McFarlane stood there, thinking about this. Tara walked up to him, and asked, "What do we do now?"

McFarlane thought another second, then turned and said, "We are under orders to do nothing. But if there's anyone that is willing to sit here and do nothing, leave the room." No one moved an inch. "Tara, get the sea wasp fleet together. We're finding that boomer."

"But our orders..." Tara stared at him.

"The Royal Canadian Draconus Corps is not going to sit here. Fuck our orders. Listen up, guys. This is what we've got to do..."