Point of a Spear

"Although a soldier by profession, I never felt

any sort of fondness for war, and I never advocated it,

except as a means of peace."

-General Ulysses S. Grant

Prologue: Honor Amongst Enemies

G.D.S.S. Philadelphia

0900 GMT

February 6, 2030

The briefing room on the Philadelphia was one of the most secure places on and off the planet. Known to the few people aware of it as Point of No Return, the chamber was so heavily shielded with various ECMs that no electronics were allowed to be brought in. A good many such devices had been fried over the last few years and despite the scarcity of space, thick bulkheads kept the room isolated both for its own secrecy and to prevent any wanderers from frying their equipment by passing too close. The few people with high enough clearance to enter didn't bother bringing anything except their uniforms and IDs. Everything they would need for this briefing was already inside.

Lights flickered on automatically and revealed a fairly spartan room. Tablet viewers were set before each seat but they would hardly occupy all of them. The elderly African American general took the seat closest to the door and waited for everyone else to find their places. A single officer, a colonel and thus the most junior of those assembled, walked to the far side. Then again, with such a small room, he wasn't that far from General James Solomon.

"EVA, activate, authorization Colonel Grant Menwell, authentication Alpha Bravo 568 Niner."

A slight pause and a female voice answered. "Authentication confirmed. Good day, Colonel Menwell. Awaiting further instructions."

Another feature of this room was its own EVA unit. Isolated from the rest of the systems and shut down whenever not in use, this EVA had been specially modified and hardened against any attempts to initiate communications. The only contact any outside system would have was to respond to the EVA's own queries. Nothing outside was permitted to preemptively interact with it.

"All right Grant, let's get this going," Solomon said impatiently. "The latest intel reports haven't been very promising."

"No sir," Menwell agreed. "From all indications, our mole has been losing more and more support within the Brotherhood. If he is overthrown, Nod may very well become a major threat once more."

A few grunts of agreement answered him and Menwell continued. "EVA, briefing report 265-C."

A beep sounded as images of several men appeared on the screen behind Menwell. The data tablets also came alive and displayed the same information to allow each officer to examine the reports in more detail.

"These five men are major players in the Nod hierarchy, each with varying amounts of power and influence. Each has their own agenda, which we've used over the past few years to keep Nod divided and weak. However, certain developments are beginning to threaten the status quo."

The colonel tapped the first one and brought it to the forefront. "General Hassan. He is currently the de facto leader of the Brotherhood. His power base is in northern Africa but he commands at least the nominal loyalties of every other major Nod faction. We helped maneuver him into power and Hassan has ensured that the Brotherhood remains splintered and stagnate in return. Nevertheless, Hassan's power is tenuous as there are plenty of Nod cells that would love to have a more dynamic leader. Keeping him in power is the surest way of keeping Nod contained and harmless."

The image receded and Menwell moved onto the next profile. "General Vega. Vega is more druglord than a military commander, but the money his eyecandy trade brings in makes him a major player. We also have reason to believe Vega is an eyecandy user himself. Vega is supposedly loyal to Hassan, but the distance between the two prevent either from interfering too much with the other and is the likelier reason Vega hasn't made a move against Hassan. However, this distance also prevents Hassan from fully restraining Vega, and the general has been attempting to expand his territories further north. As such, Vega is a real threat, not just a potential one."

The next image was blurred, though an outline of a man was visible. "General Richard O'Connor. He's an enigma in many ways, and most of our data is purely speculation based on what is known about him. We know O'Connor is responsible for Nod forces in most of Russia, but we don't know what his objectives are. O'Connor is also nominally loyal to Hassan, but we believe O'Connor is actively pursuing another agenda. Intelligence does suggest Russia is where some of Nod's more interesting R&D projects are hidden, which would make O'Connor a major player. However, there's been no confirmation."

"More interesting projects," Major General Ismael Khalid muttered. "Does that include those cyborgs?"

Menwell shook his head. "There have actually been very few cyborg sightings in Russia. The few skirmishes our forces have fight with Nod were against regular infantry, though from the after action reports, O'Connor's troops are well trained, well armed, and extremely tenacious. If O'Connor decided to move against Hassan, he would be a concern, but both distance and the size difference between their respective forces would work against him. As such, O'Connor is considered a minor threat, but one we will need more intelligence on."

The fourth image was of a balding, pompous looking man. "General Marzaq. Marzaq's loyalties are to himself. He obeys Hassan because Hassan is in power, not out of any belief in the man as a leader. As such, Marzaq is likely to turn the moment he smells blood. In order to keep him under control, Hassan has to maintain a strong image. Nevertheless, Marzaq's ambition is well known. He's proven a capable commander, but because of his self-serving nature, it's unlikely Marzaq could gain too many followers if he himself attempted a coup. The danger is in Marzaq joining an uprising against Hassan."

The last image was crystal clear and showed a determined and dangerous looking young man. "General Anton Slavik, leader of the Black Hand. This makes him the second most powerful man in Nod and the legitimate heir to the leadership. Originally a Serbian freedom fighter, Slavik was known as the Serbian Wolf for his ruthlessness. That same ruthlessness is what allowed him to assume control of the Black Hand. Slavik has been pushing Hassan to be more aggressive and his disagreements with Hassan's methods are well known even amongst the Brotherhood rank and file. This makes him the most immediate threat to Hassan. Also, if O'Connor and Marzaq decide to support any attempt by Slavik, his chances of success would almost be assured."

"We are perfectly aware of how dangerous Slavik is," Solomon said. "The question now is how best to neutralize him. To have us kill him would make the man a martyr, making him a rallying cry for any other disaffected Nod cells."

"Agreed sir," said Menwell. "That is why I am here today to propose Operation: Turtledove. EVA, briefing report 265-D."

The photos receded and were replaced by various data entries. At the same time, the data tablets also changed their displays.

"As one of the contingencies for Hassan's discovery or threat of discovery, my team has worked out a set of forgeries and changes designed to implicate someone else as our mole. It would have had to been someone highly placed and in the Euro-African theater, as otherwise we wouldn't be able to make the evidence convincing. Slavik fits both requirements and it's simply a matter of refining the details to fit him specifically."

"And what exactly do you intend to do with these forgeries?" Solomon asked. "Are you suggesting we give them to Hassan?"

Menwell nodded. "Yes sir. That way, Hassan can stage a trial to incriminate Slavik and provide an excuse for executing him. And with Slavik branded as a traitor, it should give pause to any of his supporters. This would also present an opportunity to clean up the Black Hand. Over all the years, the Black Hand remains the most fanatical and loyal to Kane's ideals. If we could cripple them, it would go a long way to ending Nod once and for all."

Several of the generals nodded approvingly but skepticism refused to be buried.

"Colonel, what's the possible fallout from a failed execution?" Lieutenant General Paul Cortez asked.

Menwell breathed deeply. "It would set off a civil war within Nod, one which Hassan may very likely lose. An attack on the Black Hand, supposedly the most loyal and dedicated of all Nod factions, will not go overlooked. If Slavik were to escape, he could rally Hassan's enemies to him and pose a serious threat. But even that should buy us some time, as it would take a while for Slavik to outright defeat Hassan, if he could manage it."

"In which case we would have a Nod leader who's not afraid to attack us head on and fight a real war," Cortez finished. "General, if we do execute, I'd like permission to go to def-con 2. If this thing blows up in our faces, I'd like to be prepared."

"I respectfully advise against that, General," Menwell said. "Any activity on our end might alert Nod and make them suspicious."

"I agree," Solomon said. "Def-con 2 may be jumping the gun a little. If this op goes as planned, we'd have stirred things up for nothing."

"Sir, I still think-"

"I'm aware of your concerns, Paul," said Solomon. "I'm willing to go to a limited def-con 3. Ismael, when we execute, I want your troops ready for rapid deployment. If this thing turns sour, I want to be able to react quickly."

"Yes sir."

Menwell waited patiently, though Solomon's orders had already committed the general to carrying out the operation. Everyone else in the room knew this, though a few looked less than thrilled. Menwell knew some of the generals in here didn't think much of him. After all, he had never served in the field. He was a career Intelligence Operations officer who had never fired a shot in combat. Thus the shared brotherhood of those who've been under fire did not include him, while it did include every single officer he had just briefed. However, Menwell was determined to show he was just as capable of fighting this war in his own way. He could do far more behind the desk than as some grunt out in the field.

"All right," said Solomon. "We can't just sit here while Hassan's position is being eaten away. None of us like the bastard, but better the devil we know than the devil we don't. Colonel, finalize your preparations. I want to get this underway as soon as possible."

"Yes sir."

"Now, before we convene, are there any other objections?"

The question was a mere formality. When Solomon had made up his mind, no one was going to bother contradicting him. Menwell suppressed a smile, knowing he had succeeded. But this was only the first step. Now he needed to make sure the operation succeeded.

Makhachkala, Russia

1700 Local Time

April 12, 2030

The chaingun roared for a full minute, spewing forth hot lead. Flashes lit up the barrel and the sound of spent cartridges clinked as they fell. However, this was nothing compared to the cracks from each hit. When the gun finally fell silent, everyone observing the test was glad for the sudden quiet. General Richard O'Connor stepped out from behind the wall and grinned savagely. An engineer was already disconnecting power to the weapon to ensure it didn't go off as others inspected the armor. It had held up against over a thousand rounds before penetration occurred, though the sheer force of so many bullets hitting a human being would have long shattered bones and caused internal damage. Still, that wasn't the point of this test. O'Connor walked over to the engineers and joined them in examining the armor.

"It held up quite well, sir," one said. "The polarization managed to nullify much of the kinetic energy, but it wasn't enough to completely dissipate them."

"Short of some kind of forcefield, I doubt anything could have completely absorbed that much firepower," O'Connor commented dryly. "Still, this is promising. If we can apply it to our armor, small arms fire will be much less effective against my troops."

"Sir, even this test sample was incredibly expensive to create," another engineer reminded him. "I highly doubt we could mass produce this."

O'Connor smiled again. Few other cells would have subordinates so willing to speak their minds. That was their loss, as crucial pieces of information often went missing as a result. He felt the armor and ran his hand along the holes. With gloves on, he couldn't feel the actual material, but touching the metal still helped make it more real to him. While it was true that this technology was far too expensive to deploy on a wide scale, that didn't mean it wouldn't be useful. Certain things could always use more protection, and a few of his elite units would certainly make use of any tactical advantages the armor afforded. He just needed to have enough of the armor to actually make a difference instead of using them piecemeal.

"Are we ready to move onto the next phase of testing?" O'Connor asked.

The engineers conferred with each other, suggesting possible issues and dismissing most of them. Most of them.

"There is something we feel needs to be addressed, sir," Aleksey Krukov, his lead engineer, replied. "The armor, while impressive, does have a fundamental weakness. We've embedded conductive material throughout the armor to try and negate this, but if somehow the current is disrupted by a lucky shot, then the entire EM field would fail and it becomes no more effective than conventional body armor."

"And the chances that someone would get such a lucky shot?"

Krukov swallowed. "In our testing, we've seen 19 of our samples fail in this manner. That's better than the 34 failure rate in the first test samples, but still extremely high."

O'Connor considered Krukov's assessment. That meant about one in five shots run the risk of taking out the EM field, which would eliminate the extra protection the armor was supposed to provide. After that, it would be no better than the regular armor used by any other infantry. And here was the problem. If they were actually going to deploy this armor, it had to have a very low rate of failure. Otherwise the costs would far outweigh the benefits. So they had to get this right the first time around.

"Your suggestions?" he asked.

"We need more flexibility with the weight limit," Krukov said immediately.

When the project was first started, O'Connor had been adamant about limiting the increase of the armor's weight. His engineers and scientists had balked at his restrictions, but O'Connor hadn't budged. They were developing this technology to be used, not to sit around and look at. If his soldiers couldn't even move while wearing it, what point was there in building it in the first place? Still, that didn't mean he would dismiss a reasonable request.

"Explain."

"We need to add more bracing and supports to the armor," said another engineer. "The micro-honeycomb structure we originally proposed was scrapped because of the weight it would have added, but the new carbon fibers offer an alternative. There will be some increase in the weight, but it shouldn't be anywhere as much as we originally projected."

"Define some increase," O'Connor said bluntly.

"Eight percent," Krukov answered.

Krukov kept his eyes on O'Connor, though with sunglasses on his superior was almost impossible to read. The original deviation limit O'Connor had set was 3, something which drove his engineers and scientists up the wall every time they wanted to change or add something. It also explained why the armor was so expensive, with all the experimental composites used.

"Eight percent," O'Connor repeated and thought it over. "Tell you what, I'll let this slide, if you can get that damn exoskeleton project back on target."

Krukov bit back a groan and simply nodded. O'Connor was a demanding man, but he demanded the best, not the impossible. The exoskeleton was one of several projects underway, all designed to make the ordinary infantryman more lethal. If even one succeeded, then the effectiveness of O'Connor's soldiers would be significantly increased. If they all succeeded, O'Connor would be in a position to seek leadership of the Brotherhood for himself. Whether this was his intention Krukov did not know and did not ask.

Leaving his engineers to work out the challenge, O'Connor headed back to the city. Makhachkala, like much of southern Russia, remained a Brotherhood stronghold. Though GDI maintained a heavy presence in cities like Moscow and St. Petersburg, they stayed out of the southern parts of the country. Just as well for O'Connor and his facilities. As he climbed into the large hummer, an aide handed him a binder. He'd already been through the contents nearly a dozen times, but candidate selection required a fair amount of attention and detail. The fifty-eight potentials had already undergone heavy scrutiny, first regarding their loyalties and second regarding their abilities. If a soldier was fanatically loyal but couldn't hit something at point blank range, then their loyalty meant little. One did not kill the enemy through blinding fanaticism alone. And if the soldier could hit a target a thousand meters away but you couldn't be sure of their loyalty, then you couldn't very well give them the gun to begin with. Those that survived this scrutiny would be given an opportunity to demonstrate their skill and their dedication. Whoever survived that baptism would stand as one of the elite.

As the hummer rolled through the streets, O'Connor examined each profile once more. Like all candidate pools, one in particular stood out. When he had first seen the profile, O'Connor hadn't bothered to hide his surprise at seeing a nineteen year old amongst the candidates. People that age might as well be kids. They certainly weren't ready to fight a war, much less attract enough negative and positive attention to be sent to him. There was always the possibility that this one had been set up to fail, but instinct told O'Connor that this Kilian Qatar would go far. Providing of course she survived.

The hummer came to a halt and O'Connor exited. Even here, he was out of uniform. When in urban environments, only an idiot would draw attention to himself by openly declaring his allegiance to GDI or Nod. The building he entered was just as nondescript. No visible guards, no sign of what might be going on inside. People valued their privacy here and tinted windows were quite common. Though one of the larger structures of the city, few people heeded its presence. These days, most followed a live and let live policy. Those who didn't were usually GDI sympathizers or spies and were dealt with accordingly.

The main lobby was fairly spartan. A simple desk was by the door to receive visitors, turning away those who should not be here. No one at the desk or the various couches and chairs gave O'Connor more than a passing glance before going back to looking occupied. None paid heed to the fact O'Connor kept his sunglasses and gloves on indoors. They were all used to their commanding officer's habits. The elevator doors opened and O'Connor disappeared from the lobby. His passing no more marked than his coming.

On the third floor of the building, a massive hall was filled with a diverse range of people. They had been standing at attention for half an hour now. Most were probably desperate to bend their knees a bit and stretch, but every single one of O'Connor's officers had remained immobile since assuming positions. No one dared move for fear of failing what they assumed was a test. No one except a certain candidate. O'Connor had long learned how to walk silently and thus made no noise as he entered the doorway. He noticed a candidate in the middle of one of the rows slowly moving his legs back and forth, even twisting his neck. Or was it a her? The shape of the body seemed to indicate a woman. O'Connor allowed himself a satisfied grin. At least someone here was showing some initiative. But that person would need to learn some discipline and control as well. O'Connor let his boots sound against the floor and felt the atmosphere tense.

"Attention!"

The order from one of the officers immediately saw all the candidates obey. With hands at their sides and legs together, their muscles tightened and waited for further instructions. O'Connor walked up to the front of the formation and turned to face the candidates.

"At ease," he said calmly.

Though the men and women assumed the stance, none of them looked at ease. O'Connor glanced at the individual who had had the gall to stretch and confirmed his earlier assessment. The candidate was indeed a woman, and was in fact Qatar. O'Connor made sure Qatar knew he was looking at her and saw her swallow nervously. Good, she could take a hint.

O'Connor then cast his gaze upon the rest of the candidates. "Congratulations, ladies and gentlemen, for making it this far without getting a bullet to the head, for you are all here for the same reason. You are here because you have demonstrated initiative, curiosity, but most of all, you have demonstrated a willingness to question your superiors. That by itself would have been sufficient for you to be reported as a liability and be terminated as a potential risk. The reason that you have not is because of the former two attributes, for it shows you have a certain amount of promise, and that your insubordination was not rooted in disloyalty.

"These qualities also mean you have the potential to be more than cannon fodder, that perhaps you can become true warriors, not savages that run around with a false sense of superiority. After all, when you're dead, you're of no use to me or the Brotherhood. It's when you're alive that you can fight. And if you are to die, then make sure your death means something, for otherwise you are a disgrace. A disgrace to the Order, and a disgrace to your fellow comrades. But there is one crime even greater than wasting your life, and that is wasting the lives of your brothers and sisters. When you die, you can be replaced. But when you cause the deaths of your comrades, then you have cost the Brotherhood that which makes up its lifeblood.

"When you are here, under my command, you will follow my rules. You will obey my orders. And most of all, you will learn my code and live by it, or else you will die. For if you survive the next two months, you will have earned the right to call yourself a soldier. Until then, you're all fresh meat for the grinder. Remember that."

With that closing statement, the lead officer called the candidates to attention and, to their surprise, offered O'Connor a standard military salute before dismissing them. O'Connor watched the candidates file out, none daring to make eye contact with him or look anywhere except where the officers were facing. For the next two weeks, O'Connor's trainers would be instilling the fear of God into them. Then maybe, just maybe, they would absorb the knowledge they'd need to survive the fires that would mold and shape them.

The formality of welcoming the candidates complete, O'Connor returned to the elevator and took it down. He passed the lobby and continued on for several seconds before entering a small bunker. But even this was a mere transit point. To hide a massive base in a city was feasible, but too risky. Too many people came and went and one couldn't be sure what allegiance every single one held. Yet the city did provide excellent camouflage for small outposts. And the tunnel that had been dug was far below any utility or transportation line so discovery was unlikely.

With mag-levs, the distance between the city and the mountains south became almost trivial. A mere twenty minutes later O'Connor stepped off the train and entered a vastly different complex. Where the building in Makhachkala was spartan and revealed nothing of who owned it, this facility proudly declared the allegiance of those that lived and worked here. A massive Nod flag hung vertically above the steps leaving the station. As O'Connor climbed them, the soldiers on duty snapped off salutes and he returned them. Taking off his glove, O'Connor placed a hand on a reader and a set of massive doors slid open. A hint of green flashed before he replaced the glove. He entered the hallway and peered through the glass walls. Below was the heart of his mini-kingdom within Nod, a massive command and control center that coordinated forces from Poland to Siberia. His theater of command was vast and by all rights O'Connor commanded enough power to rival Hassan, whatever outsiders might think. But that power was not needed, not yet.

O'Connor entered his office and the walls turned transparent, though only from his side. As he sat down, the monitor beeped and one of his officers appeared.

"Sir, General Slavik asked to speak with you at your earliest convenience. Shall I arrange a connection now?"

"Go ahead," O'Connor replied and shuffled through his papers as he waited.

The face that appeared was often described as fierce and predatory, yet O'Connor never had any reason to fear the owner. As one of the oldest living leaders within the Brotherhood, he'd actually watched one Anton Slavik rise through the ranks and even acted as a mentor at times. Perhaps this was why Slavik was always respectful when addressing O'Connor.

"General."

"Slavik."

The greetings were brief but with that formality out of the way, the real conversation could begin.

"Hassan's been making some disturbing moves," Slavik said bluntly. "He's questioned the loyalty of several of my best commanders and other officers known to be loyal to me."

"And you think it's all in preparation for a move against you," O'Connor stated.

"It's a familiar pattern," Slavik conceded.

O'Connor offered a grin as he adjusted his sunglasses. "While I usually don't think much of such paranoia, you might be onto something. Your disagreements with Hassan might have pushed the man into deciding to remove you as a threat."

"If he tries, it'll be the perfect excuse I need to eliminate him," Slavik said. "The Brotherhood's become weak while under his rule. We have not launched a major attack against GDI for nearly five years."

"Be that as it may, the Black Hand alone won't be enough for you to defeat Hassan. Besides his elite guards, Hassan does command the loyalty of the majority of the Brotherhood."

"Including yours?"

O'Connor smiled. "My loyalties are to Nod, not to any one man. However, that does not mean I will help you preemptively execute a coup."

Slavik's own grin was far more savage. "Sometimes I wonder, General, how you managed to survive so long in the Brotherhood."

"By being careful, Slavik. Now, there are things you can do to prepare for any move against you."

"Enlisting your aid is one of them."

"I make no promises," O'Connor replied. "If Hassan were to move against you, I may not be in any position to help you. It would take days for my troops to arrive in Egypt, and even then they wouldn't be enough to face off all the troops stationed there."

"I believe Marzaq can be swayed to our side," Slavik said. "As I command the Black Hand, we will easily be able to outmaneuver Hassan."

"Something tells me you're going to remove Hassan whether he moves against you or not."

Slavik grinned, not bothering to deny the statement. "You already know my disagreements with Hassan. The Brotherhood is stagnating. We need new leadership in order to survive the next decade and regain our rightful place."

"Or old leadership," O'Connor muttered. "Be that as it may, the precedent you'd be establishing is very dangerous. While there have been some major incidents of infighting, by and large the Brotherhood has always sided with its more or less legitimate leaders. At this time, that leader is Hassan, despite his apparent incompetence. If you were to succeed in removing him by force, it might result in a feeding frenzy. Who knows who'll try to eliminate you? Marzaq would be itching to try after seeing you succeed."

Slavik grimaced and nodded. "I see your point."

"And," O'Connor continued before Slavik could say more, "if you continue to kill those that may become a threat to you, you ultimately eliminate those that are also useful to you. A wasteful course of action and one that also undermines morale and confidence in you by the more capable officers under your command."

"You'll never stop lecturing me, will you?"

"Why should I stop? I remain your mentor despite anything you believe you've learned."

"Duly noted," said Slavik. "However, back on the subject at hand. You've said that you won't help me preemptively launch a coup. Am I to wait for Hassan to make the first move?"

"From what you've said, I would think he's already begun moving," said O'Connor. "And unlike those western bureaucrats, I don't use the excuse of 'it might provoke the other side' to defer preparations."

"I have made preparations," said Slavik. "The question now is will you support me as the legitimate leader of Nod?"

"You are the legitimate heir to Nod were Hassan to fall," O'Connor replied. "If he were to move against you and you were to win, then you would have my full support. However, unless I am convinced that Hassan has failed in his duty as the leader of the Brotherhood, I will not partake in a civil war."

"What would it take to convince you, if Hassan's current ineptitude will not?"

"His reaction to you fighting back," said O'Connor. "As long as Hassan can keep the Brotherhood nominally united, he remains useful as a leader. But if the crack widens and you demonstrate his inability to command Nod, he will have failed and I will then gladly assist in removing him from power."

"So you'll wait until I already have the Brotherhood under my banner? That doesn't seem like you, General."

O'Connor snorted. "You don't need the Brotherhood under your banner. I just need to see whether the rest of the Brotherhood obeys Hassan. If they're hesitant, that'll be enough. As such, your job is to convince the rest of the Brotherhood to abandon Hassan, not necessarily join you. The rest will likely fall in line once the other major factions accept your leadership."

"And what if Hassan asks you to support him?"

"I will state that I had better not be the first person he's asking for help from," O'Connor said bluntly, "for that by itself would signify his ineptitude."

An eyebrow rose. "And Hassan would allow you to get away with such a statement were I to fail?"

"Hassan is welcome to try and exert his will," said O'Connor.

Slavik didn't bother pressing for an explanation, but whatever O'Connor had that allowed him to defy the de facto Nod leader would be something he himself would need to watch out for.

"You called for assurances," said O'Connor. "As I said, I cannot give you any. What you come away with is the confidence that I will not help Hassan rally the Brotherhood against you."

"Didn't you once tell me, if my mother says she loves me, confirm it?"

O'Connor chuckled. "So you did learn something from me after all. You'll confirm it when and if Hassan is brave enough to move against you. Now I suggest you attend to your other preparations."

The image blinked out, leaving Slavik to contemplate O'Connor's words. He'd known going in O'Connor would never support a preemptive move, though it was not because of fear or indecision. O'Connor had demonstrated a ruthlessness that made Slavik cringe at times. Still, Slavik knew that having O'Connor stay out of the fight was concession enough. With one matter settled, Slavik could move onto other problems.

"Lieutenant, what's the status of our troop withdrawals?"

"Proceeding according to schedule, sir," Lieutenant Nikolai replied.

"Good. I want them thoroughly entrenched and ready to fend off any attempts to disarm them. They are not to obey any stand-down orders from other factions."

"Yes sir. Sir, are you sure that's wise?"

"Don't test my patience, Lieutenant. Carry out your orders."

"Yes sir," the man said softly.

Slavik continued staring at the man's back and sneered. Nikolai was proving to be pathetically spineless despite being in the Black Hand for years. Perhaps the time had come for him to be replaced. Slavik stopped himself mid-thought. He had been prepared to execute Nikolai, and the tendency to draw blood so quickly was unbecoming. No. If someone were to die, their death had to make a point. Shooting a coward served no purpose unless that cowardice turned to treason. No, cowardice by itself did not earn the man a bullet.

"I'll be in my quarters," Slavik said. "Do not disturb me unless it is urgent."

The various officers acknowledged his order as he stepped out. There were some things even the officers here were not privy to. Once Slavik was sure his room was secure, he activated his private terminal. Even through this, he wasn't foolish enough to establish a direct connection. Slavik accessed the darknet and reviewed the message forum. It seemed odd to use such a primitive form of communication to pass along orders, yet it served its purpose well. The simpler the method, the easier to encrypt.

New posts reported the success or failure of various missions. Others passed along information that might be useful in the future. Slavik scanned the messages for ones from one of his deep agents. Few knew this agent existed and the agent rarely provided groundbreaking intelligence. However, this agent served a different purpose and was a long term investment. One did not make use of such an asset unless the payoff was worth it.

Propaganda worked both ways. It might tell the masses what you wanted them to think, but it also revealed what you were concerned about. The latest feeds from the Nod pirate channels Hassan controlled were extolling the loyalty and faith of his followers. GDI was mentioned with the usual disdain and snideness, but the broadcasts had taken on a different character recently. That combined with some of Hassan's statements about Slavik's followers were what triggered his alarm. By now, Hassan was most definitely already making his move. Slavik was playing catchup, but he'd been planning to oust Hassan for years now. It was a simple matter to begin implementing those plans.

The Black Hand was not a large force. Its members made up only a small fraction of the Brotherhood, but they were some of the best armed and trained soldiers there were. The fact that they were trained placed them above much of the rabble. Hassan, like all the other major warlords, also maintained his own elite guards. However, Slavik was confident his forces would slaughter Hassan's in open battle.

From the report, it appeared as if Hassan was preparing another wave of propaganda to garner support. His instincts told him to strike now, while Hassan was still marshaling his forces. Or was Hassan ready to strike and just tying up some loose ends? Well, even loose ends could unravel an entire plot. Only time would tell.

Caucus Mountains

1200 Local Time

April 18, 2030

O'Connor was working late again. Some would describe him as an insomniac, others might call him a workaholic, but the truth was, sleep had long been only a minor concern for his rather unique physiology. When one didn't really need more than an hour or so of sleep, what was the point in wasting all that extra time? Perhaps it was fortunate he kept such odd hours as a lieutenant knocked frantically on his door.

"Enter," O'Connor said without looking up.

"Sir, General Hassan has just announced the arrest of General Slavik!"

O'Connor blinked. His self-control, one of his more valued assets, nearly slipped. However, he caught himself and signaled for the lieutenant to explain.

"General Hassan is broadcasting this announcement right now on his propaganda channel. We're also receiving reports that he's demanding all cells reaffirm their loyalty to him or risk being considered co-conspirators of Slavik."

"What exactly as he accused Slavik of?" O'Connor asked.

"Sir, he's accusing Slavik of being a GDI spy."

The lieutenant had no need to say more. The accusation sounded absolutely absurd considering who it was being levied against. If Hassan was trying to pull off the big lie tactic, he was either extremely desperate or insanely brave. O'Connor was for the former.

"Has Hassan offered any evidence?"

The lieutenant swallowed. "That's the strange part. General Hassan has attached what appears to be rather extensive and thorough evidence supporting his claims."

That was a surprise. O'Connor felt an eyebrow rise but quickly composed himself once more.

"Continue reviewing the data. I want a general overview within the hour and a full analysis as quickly as possible."

"Yes sir. And sir, what should we do if General Hassan demands a response from us directly?"

"Tell him I will not rush myself just because he does not wish for me to have enough time to find holes in the evidence against Slavik."

The lieutenant nodded. "Yes sir."

The implication of O'Connor's response was clear. He believed Slavik was innocent and had thus set himself against Hassan. Though the fact Slavik had gotten himself captured was disturbing. O'Connor turned on the television and switched to the Nod propaganda channel. Hassan's face filed the screen and O'Connor shook his head. The North African always did think he had an imposing presence.

"With the arrest of the traitor, we have eliminated a cancer from the Brotherhood. The evidence is incontrovertible and reveals that the traitor passed on to GDI extensive information about our forces, our strongholds, and many other vital secrets."

He'd heard enough. O'Connor terminated the feed and considered his options. He doubted Slavik had been careless enough to be captured so easily. That suggested a traitor within the Black Hand, but who? If worse came to worse, he could retake command of the Black Hand and unite the Brotherhood himself. However, that was a distasteful option. Control of the Brotherhood had its own dangers. Only one man could successfully unite the Brotherhood and do so without question. Maybe it was time to consider the that alternative. O'Connor grimaced. It seemed a conflict was inevitable. Standing, he looked out the office and down at the command center. There seemed to almost be a spring in their steps, as if this crisis was serving as a catalyst. Well, maybe this war may indeed server a greater purpose. After all, an olive branch was only useful when sharpened to the point of a spear.

End Prologue

As Bird of Prey is winding down, I decided to start this project. This story will be more Nod-centric for the beginning, since I have to get Slavik set up. After that, we'll see more of GDI. Anyways, this is basically my retelling of Tiberian Sun and Firestorm. I'm going for consistency, a certain amount of believability, but also a certain amount of originality. I pulled it off in Bird of Prey and I'll try to pull it off here, this time looking into the internal structures of GDI and Nod. My earlier C&C stories can be considered prototypes for this. So, enjoy and review.

Z98