Captain Robert Clayton was leading a joint meeting with officers from all four branches of the military when he was interrupted by the buzzing of his intercom. After excusing himself from the group, he impatiently hit the connecting button. "Jenkins, I thought I told you no interruptions."

"Excuse me, sir. There's a call for you. It's the overseas operator; an emergency call from Mrs. Helen Clayton."

What was his mother calling for? It must be rather urgent. He'd been stationed around the world the last eleven years, and in all that time he had not received one phone call from her. Not only was the time difference usually a factor, the cost of an intercontinental call was prohibitive. He turned to the men in the room. "Gentlemen, we'll discuss this later. Say, 1400 hours?" To Jenkins he replied, "I'll take that call."

"Yes, operator, this is Captain Robert Clayton…Yes, I'll accept the call…Mother?"

"Oh, Bobby…" he heard a very distraught voice over the line. It sounded as if she'd been crying.

"Mother, what is it?" The captain was concerned over the tone of her voice and the fact that she had called him Bobby; something she had not done since he insisted on being addressed as Robert at the age of twelve.

"Bobby!..." his mother started wailing. " It's Matt…he's…dead!" Her wailing became louder and he could barely understand her words until they stopped completely. He thought he heard a thud as if something heavy fell on the floor.

"Mother? Mother!" There was a long pause before another voice came on the line.

"Robert, this is Doris Johnson, Doc Johnson's wife."

"Mrs. Johnson, where's my mother? What happened?"

"If you could hold on a moment, he'd like to speak to you. He's attending to your mother."

A moment later Doc Johnson came on the line. "Robert," he said in a tone which denoted that of a long time family friend, "I'm sorry, your mother collapsed. I may need to give her a sedative when she comes around."

"Doc, cut to the chase. What's going on? Did my mother just tell me my brother Matt is dead?"

"Yes, I'm afraid she did. He and Jennie were in a car accident. They were killed on impact. I'm sorry. I was at the hospital when they were brought into the morgue. I asked the police that I be the one to break the news to Helen. I know how fragile she was when your father was killed in an accident two years ago. I was concerned she would not take the news well. I offered to call you, but she insisted she be the one to tell you. However, from what I observed of her behavior, I'm not convinced she will handle this any better now than she did then."

"Doc, about Skip, er Lee…does he know?" Robert could see his nephew in his mind's eye. Lee was the spitting image of his brother and the apple of his parents' collective eye. He could only imagine how hard this news would be on him.

"Not yet. Your mother was watching him tonight for Matt and Jennie when they went out and had already put him down for the night. I asked Doris to meet me here. With your permission, I'd like to bring him home with us to stay for at least the night. He gets along with our boys well. Do you want us to tell him? I'll assume you'll make arrangements to come home for the funerals?"

Robert Clayton paused in thought. He knew he would have to come home to take care of the funeral arrangements, remembering how heavily his mother depended on him and Matt when his father died. Matt's own father had died of influenza about a year after returning from World War I, so his older brother never knew his father. Two years later, his mother met and married Daniel Clayton. He was a good man and raised Matt as his own. When he died, Robert and Matt took care of everything in deference to their mother's fragile state. However, Robert had to return to Berlin to continue working on making sure West Germany's entrance into the NATO alliance went smoothly. He left knowing Matt and Jennie would look after their mother's needs. The pact was nearly in place, however, there were still some details that needed ironed out. His mind was brought back to the present when he heard the doctor's voice reminding him he was still waiting for an answer.

"Thank you, Doc. I guess that will be best. I'll make arrangements to fly out as soon as I can. I think it's best if he hears the news from me. I'll call when I land at Dulles to let you know when to expect me," he sighed resignedly.

Captain Robert Clayton hung up the phone, a frown on his face as he contemplated, "What am I going to do with a kid? I love my nephew, but I don't know anything about raising children." He also was aware that his work with the NATO, while now in place, would require a couple more years to establish its smooth operation in a volatile region of the world which was no place to raise a child. He knew he had some hard choices ahead of him as he made his way to see his commanding officer to request emergency leave.