Pressure Points

The Citadel, Situation Room

There was silence in the Situation Room as the screen tracked the skyranger flying back. The Commander stood expressionless as thoughts and theories about these new aliens rushed through his mind.

"It was a trap." He finally said, breaking the silence as he turned to the rest of the Internal Council standing around the holotable. "And I let them walk right into it."

Bradford bowed his head. "The failure is mine, Commander, we should have detected the abnormal amount of aliens."

The Commander raised a hand, preventing him from saying more. "No. The aliens were jamming your equipment for a reason. The clues were all there, I just didn't put them together quickly enough."

"Not entirely true," Van Doorn pointed out, brow furrowing. "If I recall, you suspected it might be a trap."

The Commander sighed. "I always prepare for a trap. But that was just a theory. Had I put the pieces together I would have handled the mission differently." The Commander rubbed his head, the strain and sleeplessness of the past few days weighing down on him.

"At least it wasn't a total loss," Zhang reminded them. "Jaster and El-Amin managed to make it out. They were arguably the most important."

"We lost four soldiers," Shen interjected with a hard glare at the expressionless man. "Regardless of their worth, our reserves are dangerously low. We can't keep losing soldiers at this rate and continue to wage an effective war."

"Agreed," The Commander nodded. "We can't afford another loss like this right now." He glanced over at Shen. "Can the equipment we lost be replaced?"

Shen picked up his tabled and scrolled through it. "It depends on where you want to devote our attention to," he answered hesitantly. "We can replace what we lost within a few days, but that would mean postponing our dismantling of that mechanical disk."

The Commander frowned. Not an easy decision, they needed to know more about what they were facing, but at the same time, that gear might be essential as the war went on. He looked around the room. "Opinions."

"We need to replace our losses," Van Doorn stated immediately, crossing his arms. "With more soldiers arriving within the day, we need the best equipment possible."

"I agree," Zhang nodded. "The dismantling can wait."

The Commander looked at the engineer. "Shen?"

Shen motioned toward Zhang and Van Doorn. "I agree. Our soldiers should be given priority. We can delay the dismantling for a few days."

"If the need is urgent, my teams could assist in the dismantling," Vahlen added, scrolling down her own tablet. "We're wrapping up our autopsies of the thin men and alien animals, but we could delay those if needed."

The Commander shook his head. "No. We need answers from those," he told her. Then nodded at Shen. "Replace our losses."

"Yes, Commander."

The Commander began imputing commands into the holotable. "This was a defeat. No question. But I think we could still learn something from the footage from the battle." A holographic recreation of part of the battlefield in front of the UFO came up and the Commander zoomed in on the armored aliens.

Van Doorn frowned as he observed the creatures. "Based on their armor and weapons, I would theorize them to be shock troops of some kind."

"Their armor certainly gives that inclination," Shen agreed.

"That might be the best case scenario," the Commander warned. "These might just be their standard soldiers."

"Damn," Bradford muttered, resting his hand on his chin. "You're right. We haven't seen a traditional infantry unit from them before."

"If you could call this at all traditional." Shen muttered.

"The aliens aren't holding back now," the Commander stated. "I imagine this is only the beginning of what's to come."

"Then we'll have to exploit them," Zhang stated and pointed at one of the alien's faces. "Unprotected faces. Vulnerable to corrosive agents. Acid weapons could be useful."

"Look at the respirators," Vahlen pointed to their mouths and noses. "Something on our planet might be toxic to them."

"Or they could just be prepared against airborne attacks," Van Doorn countered, looking at her. "Our own soldiers employ the same tech and they can breathe the air just fine."

"I'll need one of the bodies for testing," Vahlen muttered, more to herself. "I'm certain I could find out."

"The outsiders also appear to becoming more advanced," Zhang noted as he looked at towering outsider.

The Commander frowned. "Yes. But they still appear to retain the same weaknesses. The thing that is worrying about them is how easily they can get out of control. One or two can be handled. If the aliens deploy them with other forces, that's when they become dangerous. The size doesn't concern me, the entourage does."

With a few taps, the Commander changed the scene until it showed the flying aliens. He looked over at Shen. "Impressions?"

The man's eyes flashed as he took in the horrific melding of metal and flesh. "The amount of modification…" he began before trailing off. "This shouldn't be possible."

Vahlen glanced over, frowning. "It is certainly possible, doctor. Not nearly as advanced as this, certainly, but possible nonetheless."

"Replacing most of the body with mechanical implants?" Shen countered incredulously. "And keeping the subject alive? I highly doubt that."

Vahlen opened her mouth, presumably to protest then abruptly stopped. The Commander didn't fail to notice and raised an eyebrow. "Vahlen? Do you have something to suggest otherwise?"

She pursed her lips. "Remember that project I was involved in before XCOM?"

"Yes," he recalled. "You were conducting experiments on biological and genetic warfare."

Shen looked at her in surprise as did Bradford. "You did what?" Shen questioned, turning to her.

"That isn't important now," she scowled. "The point is that at one point, a section of my group opened an investigation into the conversion of humans into augmented cyborgs."

Van Doorn raised an eyebrow. "An experiment on that scale and with that goal couldn't have been approved by the UN. I would have known."

"Because it wasn't," she stated hotly. "But over the course of a year, they took one man, and systematically replaced his major functions with mechanical alternatives."

Shen looked horrified. "How was that possible?"

"I wasn't part of that group," Vahlen clarified. "But it was slow and gradual. They first took the limbs, as they were easiest to replace. They did it one limb at a time. Once that was done, they began the process of replacing the torso."

"Did they succeed?" Bradford asked, eyes wide.

Vahlen frowned. "Yes…and no. They managed to augment and armor the entire torso while still keeping the major bodily functions intact. By the end, he really couldn't do much as the pain had essentially rendered him paralyzed. He eventually went insane from the pain and died soon after."

"Jesus." Van Doorn muttered. "I assume nothing else came of that?"

She shook her head. "It was deemed too impractical and expensive, so they shut down that branch," she looked at Shen. "But my point was that it is possible."

Shen rubbed his head. "I stand corrected, doctor."

"I'll instruct the soldiers to make efforts to bring some of those creatures back for you to study," the Commander promised Vahlen. "I think we could learn much from them."

He looked up at all of them. "This was a setback, but we have to move forward. We'll have to be very careful in the future but we can't let these defeats impair us. I'll be speaking to each of you later. Dismissed."

Each of them saluted and filed out of the room, barring Vahlen. Walking up to him, she stopped a few feet away and crossed her arms. "You look terrible."

He gave her a grim smile. "I believe you. But I've been too busy to really do anything about it." She furrowed her brow.

"Going three days without sleep is too much," she stated, worry tinting her voice. "Even I draw the line somewhere."

He sighed. "I know."

"Then take this opportunity," she implored him, clasping his hand in hers. "You're no good to any of us if you can't think straight."

"Probably true," he admitted. "But I know that even if I do sleep, I won't rest."

"What does that mean?" She asked, frowning.

He gently dropped her hand and moved the other in a circular motion. "It's complicated," he sighed. "Whenever I sleep now I…dream…I suppose that's the right description."

She cocked her head, but didn't make any comments. "Not really a big deal, I know," he continued slowly. "But I remember everything. Everything I've ever done appears, I face people I killed, see the results of the orders I've given. The whole time mocked and challenged by one person, usually my wife."

"Oh," she said in a small voice. "I had no idea."

"I generally don't tell people," he answered, the corners of his lips turning up. "Not really good for morale."

She nodded, then she raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Your wife?" she recalled, apparently just realizing that. "I didn't know you were married."

He gave a sad smile. "I was. But not anymore."

"May I ask what happened?" She asked softly.

"She died."

Vahlen stepped back. "I'm sorry." She told him softly. He got the impression it wasn't just from asking that question. He wasn't completely blind.

He smiled at her. "Don't be," he assure her, taking her hand. "I wouldn't have told you if it was an issue."

"I suppose so," she said softly, taking a step closer. They stood in silence for a few seconds. "You should still take a break," Vahlen told him, her eyes still filled with concern. "Maybe not sleep, but just do…something else."

He gave her a solemn nod. "Very well. I'll do that."

She let go of his hand and stepped back. "I'll see you later then," She told him.

He smiled. "That you will. Thank you, Moira."

Now she smiled at him. "Anytime, Commander." And with that, she walked out the door, leaving him alone.

The Citadel

The Commander stretched and rubbed his eyes. That had been a welcome break, but now it was time to get back to work. He put down the tablet down and contemplated how pointless all the mundane activities people did for distraction really were. The fact that he couldn't remember what he was doing before was a testament to that.

But it had taken his mind off the past few days and that had been a goal. Standing up, he walked past his bed and picked up his glass of water and took a long drink. He made a face. It was warm and he despised warm water. But he supposed it was his own fault for not getting some ice or chilling it in the first place. Setting it down, he frowned as he saw a small red strand in the water.

Kneeling down, he took a closer look and cocked his head. If he didn't know better, it looked like blood. Odd, he didn't recall biting his mouth and his teeth hadn't had any issues before. Rising back up, he shrugged and dismissed it from his mind. It wasn't a mystery worth solving.

He opened the door from his bedroom and into his office. Everything appeared in order and he sat down at his desk. Settling in, he opened an intercom to Bradford. "Central, anything new?"

"No. Commander." Bradford sounded different. More hollow and artificial. Likely audio distortion.

"Good," he answered, nodding to himself. "I-"

"You need to come down here." Bradford interrupted.

The Commander's eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"You will see."

Now something was odd. Bradford was acting strangely and the Commander was getting a sneaking suspicion as to why. "Bradford-"

The line went to static. The Commander opened a line to Shen, Zhang, Vahlen. All were static. Wishing he was wrong, he looked down at his leg and saw the laser pistol strapped to it.

"Damn it." He sighed out loud.

He was dreaming.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He did not want to deal with this now, but it seemed that he had no choice. He supposed his body had to give in eventually and taking Vahlen's wish to take a break had apparently lulled him to sleep.

He pushed himself up from the chair. Well, best to see what his subconscious wanted to say this time. Walking over to door he did not expect it to slide open. And what laid in the hallway was a nightmare. Bodies of men, women and children littered the hallway. Bloodied, dismembered and crushed, they only had one thing in common.

Their eyes bored into him, and moved with him.

It was disconcerting. Even in a dream, having dozens of dead eyes following you was hardly pleasant. At least their heads didn't turn with him.

He followed the hallways, though the more he walked, the more he had the feeling that he was being led. Doors shut by themselves, the entrances were blocked by corpses, and there was only one path available.

Up.

And up he went. Now the bodies were changing. They were no longer just nameless civilians. He saw the bodies of military, law enforcement and XCOM soldiers began appearing as well. He didn't look too closely at the XCOM bodies. He had a feeling they would be showing up later.

He saw light at the end and kept walking forward. But instead of reaching Mission Control, he found himself outside, on the outskirts of a burning city. Hamburg, Berlin, Cologne, he didn't know, but he could hear screams, gunfire and explosions echoing from the nameless city.

"So many lives sacrificed to stop us," an oily, smooth voice greeted and the Commander turned to see a thin man. He appeared to be different than the ones he'd seen on the battlefield. He was somewhat taller, the proportions more human, though still on the thin side. He was dressed impeccably, with black pants, shoes and suit.

His neck still bore the discolored spots, but they were less noticeable and the high collar of the suit also helped conceal them. The wavy hair was combed and orderly, just falling past his ears, and lacked the unnatural sheen the thin men's hair usually had.

His face was flawless, bearing a warm smile, if somewhat patronizing. But when the features were positioned right, it could perform the human expressions of sincerity and compassion perfectly. They eyes were still concealed with black spectacles, but the Commander believed they were relaying some kind of information, judging from the thin, scrolling blue lines he saw on inside of the right lens.

He wanted nothing more than to blast that alien into dust. "I didn't expect to see something like you here."

The alien smirked and inclined his head, in something resembling respect. "You attracted our attention."

"I am so honored." he bit out sarcastically.

"Your species is curious," the alien mused. "The lengths some of you go to purge anything different is remarkable."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "I am not reflective of most of humanity. But you already know this."

"I must admit some personal curiosity," the alien continued, looking at him. "Do you truly believe you saved anyone with your actions? How many are dying as a result of you refusing to accept defeat?"

"Less than those who would die under your rule." He shot back.

"Are you not making assumptions," the creature asked with a smile, hands clasped behind it's back. "You know nothing about us."

The Commander turned slowly to face him fully. "You attacked a city and slaughtered thousands of people," he hissed, jabbing a finger. "You've abducted countless more for whatever experiments you're running! Don't you dare try to say otherwise!"

The infuriating alien simply smiled. "A fair point, human. We saw an opportunity and took advantage. I sure you can understand. After all, if your actions have proven anything, it's that you would have done exactly the same."

"I only involve civilians as a last resort!" he defended, disliking the point his subconscious was trying to make.

"As do we," the alien countered smoothly. "You forced our hand when you abducted our instruments."

"As the German government forced mine," the Commander spat back. "What is your point?"

"Because there is a…misunderstanding between us," the alien explained smoothly. "You assume we are here to conquer you. That is incorrect."

The Commander's eyes widened in disbelief. Out of what he expected this dream to be about, this was certainly not it. "Is that right," he said skeptically, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Then do tell why you are here."

"We seek only to help your species," the alien said, spreading is hands out in emphasis. "Working with us, humanity could recognize its true potential."

"Really," the Commander answered, not bothering to hide how little of this he was buying. "If that is, ah, actually your reason, why not just come in peace from the start?"

"We are not fools, Commander," the alien said in a patronizing tone. "We've watched your species. You do not accept sudden change easily. It happens slowly, and even when shown evidence otherwise, you have a tendency to cling to your beliefs, no matter how archaic." The alien paused and began pacing.

"Germany was to be the first proof that our ultimate intentions were peaceful," he continued. "The people would have experienced a new standard of living unprecedented in your species history."

"Under your benevolent rule, no doubt." The Commander pointed out.

"We would guide them, certainly," the alien nodded. "But the humans would retain their autonomy."

"Then explain to me the abductions," the Commander challenged. "Your meddling in Germany, the Hamburg attack? I don't know if this concept means the same to you, but those aren't the actions of a force interested in the betterment of humanity."

"Consider this," the alien countered, his smile unwavering. "If we are intent on conquering your species as you believe, why have we not already done so? We have the means but have held back. Because regardless of what you believe, we are not interested in the extermination of your species."

The Commander pursed his lips. "Take some advice. Leave. Explain exactly what to do for us to be considered "uplifted" or whatever word you want to use. Humanity will rise on its own, without your interference. We will not follow a path you choose for us, we will forge our own. We do not need, or want, your help."

"As you have stated not to be typical of humans," the alien responded, undeterred. "I hardly think you're in a position to speak for them."

This conversation had gone on long enough. "I've tolerated your justifications long enough," he stated at the alien. "Leave." He expected the specter to vanish as those in his dreams did when ordered.

Except he didn't, he just stood there. Cocking his head to the right and smiling.

The Commander frowned. "Leave." He ordered.

Nothing happened.

"I fail to see what you're trying to do-" the alien stopped as stepped back as the Commander focused every bit of energy on the alien before him. It's eyes widened in surprise as the skin around it's mouth started growing and closing around the lips.

"I don't know what you are," the Commander stated, slowly, calmly as the alien's compose finally faltered and it began clawing at the smooth skin where it's mouth had been. "But this is my dream. I tolerate my subconscious to a point and I will not listen to your reasons for attacking us. For such a peaceful species you have certainly perfected how to kill us quite easily. I've lost soldiers to your forces, most of them likely died painfully."

A grim smile played across his lips. "It's only fitting that you die in a similar fashion." Greenish mist rose from the ground and trapped the thin man in it's cloud. The acid began eating away at the alien but it seemed oddly unconcerned, not even showing signs of pain or anguish. It raised it's arm and appraised it while the acid ate into it, seemingly more curious than anything. As the eyes of the alien began disintegrating, there almost seemed to be amusement in them.

For what seemed like hours he watched the alien slowly disintegrate into a small puddle of flesh and yellow blood on the ground, then the stripped skeleton finally fell to the ground and shattered. And the instant the head disconnected from the body he woke up.

The Citadel, Office of the Commander

He jerked up with a start.

Blinking rapidly, he took a quick glimpse at his surroundings and everything appeared in order. Actually in order.

What the hell was that?

To his knowledge, that was the first time he'd dreamed without Farida showing up. For that matter, it was also the first time someone not directly connected with him had been the focal point required to end the dream.

It seemed wrong. What had caused it?

Then the alien specter hadn't left when ordered and that troubled him most of all. The creature had eventually succumbed to his will, true. But that had never happened before. And some of the things the alien had said…he was pretty sure he'd never heard before. Or perhaps his subconscious was just making up stuff now? That might explain it…but still…it was odd.

He shook his head and stood up. A mystery for another time, banishing what the alien had said from his mind, he exited his room and went to his desk. Despite the strangeness of the dream, he felt much better than before, his mind far clearer.

His intercom buzzed and he answered. "Yes?"

"Commander, glad you're awake," Bradford answered. "Vahlen told me you were taking a break."

"Yes," the Commander agreed, glancing at the time. "Though I didn't intend for it to be this long."

"You need it more than any of us," Bradford dismissed. "But I have something we need to discuss. Alone."

The Commander raised an eyebrow at that. Interesting. Bradford wouldn't waste his time, best see what it is. "Very well. Come up to my office when you can."

"On my way now, Commander."

The line clicked off.

Hmm. What could he possibly have that was worth speaking to him privately about? Something about the Council? No, that could be shared with the rest of the Internal Council. Perhaps it was…hmm. Maybe. Bradford wasn't an idiot, it was possible.

In the meantime, he'd review their current funds and resources.

The loss of Germany was a blow, but they weren't close to the highest funding Council member nation. Anything lost was supplemented by Israel, who was providing funds comparable to Russia. It was still a net loss, but one that could have been worse. Once the Germany military secured the country, he expected it would return to normal, if not increase.

On the material side, their stores of alloys and fragment was getting low, thanks to the unexpected replacement of gear, but not dangerously so. What they did not lack were containers of the yellow substance, they had a considerable amount of that and still didn't know what it did. Once Vahlen finished researching the corpses that should probably be the next project.

The door hissed open and he glanced up to see Bradford walking in, the young man looking as professional as ever. He inclined his head. "Bradford, what can I do for you?"

Bradford paused in front of his desk, before finally sitting down. As the seconds dragged on he looked more uncertain. The Commander cocked his head. "There was something you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes…" Bradford agreed, frowning. "Though I'm not sure the best way to say it."

The Commander sighed. "Just be direct. You should know that by now."

"Well, ok," Bradford paused. "We should discuss your…excursions."

The Commander rested his arms on the table. "Sorry?"

Bradford sighed. "I'm not an idiot, Commander. I review every mission report and it hasn't escaped my attention that several of them have supposedly five member squads. And since we don't send out five member squads that was the first sign something was off. Not to mention there are only a few people who can directly alter mission reports."

The Commander motioned him to continue. "Then I've heard about the sniper," Bradford continued. "One that no one knows about, who also conveniently happens to be on said missions. And on most of them, the objective was a little more important than a UFO raid or abduction. Zhang, Van Doorn, the missions were always important and you were always in charge of putting together the squad being deployed."

"Interesting," the Commander mused. "Anything else?"

Bradford crossed his arms. "It also struck me odd that you were surprisingly hard to reach during some of the missions. Especially during the terror attack, when you were needed the most. Almost as if you weren't actually here."

There was silence for a few seconds. Bradford looked nervous as he awaited his response. He knew that if he was wrong that it wasn't going to be pleasant. Even if he had been wrong, the Commander wouldn't have been offended in the least. Based on the circumstantial evidence gathered, it did paint a pretty clear picture. Which in this case happened to be true.

"Good job," he told Bradford. "You're correct."

Bradford let out a relieved sigh. "I'm not sure if I'm happy to hear that or not. Commander, with all due respect, what the hell were you thinking?"

"You're going to have to be more specific." He answered.

Bradford clasped his hands together. "Fine. What could possibly compel you to risk yourself like this? Do you have any idea how important you are?"

"Of course," he answered nonchalantly. "But I am not irreplaceable."

Bradford frowned. "While your modesty is admirable, that isn't true. None of us could do what you've done or even considered it in the first place. What do you think would happen to XCOM if you died?"

"We developed contingencies for this," the Commander reminded him. "Some of which covered my death."

"That doesn't mean you're free to risk it like you've been!" Bradford exclaimed.

The Commander sighed. "While I appreciate your concern, I can take care of myself."

"And what happens when you can't?" He demanded. "What if you'd decided to accompany Jaster on that UFO assault? You could have died!"

"A fair point." The Commander acknowledged.

Bradford rubbed his forehead. "Why even do it in the first place?"

The Commander paused before answering. "My first time was mostly to get a feel for how operations went on the ground. I've found that it's much different than what the superiors generally envision. I dislike hands-off approaches, so I wanted to see for myself. I figured I could get a better understanding of what our soldiers needed that way than from an impersonal report."

He took a breath. "Afterwards, I considered it as something as an assurance for the more important Council missions. I'm a fairly good shot. Missions tend to go better when I'm directly involved."

"Why hide your identity?" Bradford asked. "Why not just accompany them once as yourself?"

"Because," he answered grimly. "People, especially soldiers, have a tendency to treat those in authority differently than they would otherwise. Problems might be covered up to make it seem as if there are no issues when in reality the opposite is true. Then there is the issue of people placing their lives before you, even if they shouldn't. It's a systemic problem with military culture, one I wanted to avoid."

"But the issue with that reasoning is that you are valuable." Bradford insisted. "That might be a decent reason, but you shouldn't say you're like any of us because you're not."

The Commander leaned forward and sighed. "I hear this argument get brought up before and I don't entirely understand it. The truth, Bradford, is that I'm not any more intelligent or valuable than you. The only reason people think so is because I exploit human psychology and culture repeatedly. Am I a decent field commander? Sure. But I'm not the only one in the world."

The Commander tapped on the desk. "What separates me from most isn't my intelligence or some revolutionary method of thinking. It's that I consider things that no one else will. People often come up with radical solutions to problems, but either dismiss them or lack the willpower to follow through. The Hades Contingency is not a hard concept to grasp or come up with. But anything resembling it would be immediately removed since most of us view that as abhorrent, regardless of its necessity."

"That doesn't change my point," Bradford insisted. "Because as you said, no one else would have run XCOM as you have."

"I agree," the Commander nodded. "But don't say I'm irreplaceable simply because I'm smarter than everyone else."

Bradford leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist. "Are you going to continue?"

"My, ah, excursions?"

"Yes. Because if so, you need to tell the rest of the Internal Council. We have a right to know what you're doing."

There was silence for a few seconds, then the Commander nodded. "You're right."

Bradford tried to mask his surprise, but didn't do a good job. The Commander snorted. "You thought I was going to refuse?"

"Kind of," Bradford admitted.

"That would be foolish," the Commander shook his head. "Rest assured that if I ever do that, I'll inform everyone first. But as it stands, my sniper persona is likely going to be retired for the time being."

"Why the sudden change?" Bradford asked, cocking his head.

"Because I don't want another situation like the terror assault," the Commander stated grimly. "You're right. I should have been here. I miscalculated and didn't think the aliens would attack the same time as the Van Doorn extraction. It was a mistake, and one I don't want to repeat."

"I can't say I'm not somewhat relieved to hear that," Bradford sighed in relief. "Your place is here anyway."

"Perhaps," the Commander shrugged. "But I was a special forces operative long before I became Commander of an organization."

"Well, you should be grateful I was the one who found out and not Vahlen," Bradford commented wryly. "I doubt she would have been quite as calm."

"I'd assume she'd be more upset that I didn't tell anyone," the Commander corrected. "Not that I was doing it in the first place. She's a very practical woman, she would understand."

The right corner of Bradford's lip turned up. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, I suppose we'll never find out," the Commander commented. "Now, was there anything else?"

"Yes," Bradford took out his tablet and began tapping. "The German military has secured most of the country, including Berlin. Defense Minister Habicht is going to make a speech in two hours."

"I'll tell everyone to assemble at that time," the Commander assured him.

Bradford stood and gave his salute. "I'll be ready, Commander. Thank you."

He returned the salute. "Anytime, Bradford."

The Citadel, Situation Room

The Defense Minister stood on the podium with the damaged Reichstag behind him. It was a powerful image and one that was no doubt deliberate. Habicht was wearing his full dress uniform, complete with badges and medals of service. German soldiers were stationed below the podium to keep the crowd back, weapons at the ready.

The man was flanked by twelve KSK soldiers, six on each side, all with firms stances and arms clasped behind their backs. The KSK had their faces obscured by tac masks and combat goggles, their uniforms unusually ceremonial compared to the special forces garb they typically wore.

"He's making a show of strength." Van Doorn commented. "The KSK aren't generally seen in public."

"He doesn't have a choice," the Commander answered. "He needs it right now."

It wasn't just the soldiers on the stage he'd seen. From the footage shown of the crowd, soldiers permeated the area. As a result, the crowd was much quieter than normal. He doubted this was completely reflective of the state of Germany, since the Defense Minister naturally warranted more protection. But it showed how absolute their power was now.

He appeared to be starting. Resting his hands on the podium, he finally addressed the crowd. Vahlen translated like last time. "Citizens, soldiers and friends. Over the past few days our country has been subjected to an assault of which this world has never seen. Each of you have lost someone or know someone who has. This cannot, and will not stand."

He swept his hand back. "Our former Chancellor, in his naivety, believed the best course of action was to make peace with the monsters that butchered our friends and family. But he failed to account for the true monstrosities that these creatures are capable of."

Even if he didn't understand the language, the venom and hate in his voice was clear. "These aliens are not content to simply accept our surrender. No! They seek to dominate us until we accept them as our masters. They believed that they could terrorize us and scare us into submission and that is where they made their fatal error."

He slammed a fist on the podium. "As of this day, I will devote myself and this country to destroying the alien threat once and for all! Cologne, Munich, Hamburg, Berlin! The crimes they committed will not go unpunished! We will drive these creatures back to the stars they came from!"

The Commander noted with interest that murmurings had spread through the crowd, some began shouting in agreement and the sentiment was slowly catching. "We will no longer tolerate those who preach peace with the aliens!" Habicht snarled. "We will no longer accept those who seek to divide us in the guise of protest! Make no mistake! We will purge our country of any and all sympathizers to these monsters, for we have seen their lies displayed to the world!"

The crowd cheered in response.

"I might have misheard," Shen murmured. "But I'm pretty sure he just insinuated that free speech critical of him was not going to be tolerated."

"We will rebuild what was destroyed!" Habicht continued passionately. "And we will wage a war against these invaders in retribution for what we lost and will join any others who wish to see these aliens purged from the face of this Earth!"

The crowd continued cheering and there appeared to be one phrase they were chanting over and over. He looked at Vahlen. "What are they saying?"

She frowned as she tried listening to the crowd. "I believe the best translation is "Death to the aliens.""

His lips turned up at that. "Good. It doesn't appear the populace will give him many problems."

His speech finished, the Defense Minister, and now de-facto Chancellor, exited the stage, flanked by the KSK operatives. The soldiers in the area kept the crowds contained and dispersed them orderly once he was gone. The Commander shut off the screen.

"I expect he'll make contact in a few days," he stated. "Once he appoints a new cabinet and has access to the finances."

"He constructed the speech well," Zhang commented. "He knew what would make the population side with him. Impressive."

"To be honest, he would have had to try to mess this up." Van Doorn pointed out. "I hope that he uses his power carefully."

"The Council will no doubt be rushing to see if he will join the Council," the Commander said, pulling out a tablet. "And now is the time to negate them." He looked over. "Zhang?"

"I have his location," Zhang nodded. "He's a fairly high-ranking politician. It wasn't difficult."

Shen frowned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to settle my disputes with the Council now," the Commander stated, pursing his lips. "I'm going to speak to Ali Ennor."

"Is that a good idea?" Bradford questioned, frowning.

"I'd rather we wait for more evidence," the Commander shook his head. "But we might not get many more opportunities in the future, especially if the aliens keep escalating their attacks. I need to completely focus on them without worrying about the Council."

"When will you leave?" Vahlen asked.

"Two hours."

"Let's hope we can put this behind us," Van Doorn said. "Especially since we're all on the same side. I've met him before. Convince him of the practicality of working together instead of constant infighting. He could be a powerful ally."

"Rest assured," he told the General darkly. "I will convince him to work with me."

The Citadel, Medical Ward

Patricia blinked several times and groaned at the harsh white light shining from the ceiling. Her vision more or less clear, she groggily looked around the small room. Some of the standard medical monitoring equipment was beside her fairly comfortable bed. There was what she assumed a door to a restroom at the far end and to the left of that was the exit door.

There was a small table with a sink to her right and several chairs beside it. A TV hung on the wall in front of her but otherwise, the walls were a stark, bare white. She raised her left arm that was hooked up to the machines. She debated taking it off, but decided against it. Doctors got fussy when you did that and she'd no doubt caused Abby enough trouble already.

She pushed herself up, trying to feel if anything was wrong. Nothing felt off and she appeared to retain full control over her limbs. Nice to know. She twisted her arms around trying to see if there were any marks. Nothing.

Well, she was pretty sure the outsider shards hadn't done any permanent damage, so that was good to know. Settling back into the bed, she wondered what had happened afterward. She assumed Van Doorn was now back with the UN, or at the very least here. It depended how long she'd been out.

She hoped she hadn't missed much. Plenty of time to catch up though, so she refrained from calling someone in. She reached for a remote and turned on the TV. It'd be interesting to see what the American news stations were talking about. Probably speculation about the presidential race coming up. It wasn't as if there was actually anything else worth talking about at the moment.

CNN. Sure, why not? And the first headline that greeted her was written in big black letters on the bottom of the screen.

GERMAN DEFENSE MINISTER ASSUMES CONTROL OF GERMANY

She blinked. The hell? Clearly the wrong channel. She flipped to another channel, Fox News. Alright. Another title greeted her.

GERMAN MILITARY SECURES THE COUNTRY

Was she dreaming? She switched back to CNN and turned up the volume as the commentator spoke.

"In a speech following the disastrous terrorist attacks committed by the aliens, Defense Minister Habicht has announced that he is assuming control of the country and will lead it against the alien threat."

She was stunned. Questions blazed through her mind. Had the aliens attacked Germany openly? Why was the military taking over?

The commentator was talking to some analyst. "This change in power has come rather suddenly and without much resistance. Should we expect the United Nations to intervene?"

The woman analyst began replying, actually sounding somewhat nervous. "Well, the United Nations is no doubt going to speak to the de-factor Chancellor, however, with the rest of the governing body dead, there is very little that can be used against him. And at this point, there are few people that don't want him in charge."

"But we're receiving news of crackdowns, curfews and arrests," the commentator continued. "Surely that cannot be supported by the populace or the United Nations?"

The analyst shook her head. "Well, the people are scared and most of the arrests have happened to people who are supposed sympathizers to the aliens. Several high-profile activists have also been arrested and charged with treason. As long as these people are portrayed as alien sympathizers, most people will believe they deserve whatever is coming."

Patricia muted the channel in disbelief. So, following what she'd heard, Germany had been attacked, the ruling body had been killed and now the military had taken over? She needed answers now. Kicking off the blanket, she set her bare feet on the ground and took off the tubes and wires attached to her.

She looked around for some clothes other than her patient gown, but didn't see any. She didn't have time to wait around so she just went to the door and opened it. Walking down the hallway, she entered the waiting room area and stopped as she saw Marten, clad in…some kind of XCOM armor, sleeping in a chair.

If he was here that meant someone was in surgery or worse. What was going on? She went over and shook him. "Marten. Wake up!"

His eyes snapped open and his arm raised halfway before he realized who it was. Blinking several times he shook his head and gazed at her. "Patricia? What are you doing here?" Then he appeared to realize what she was wearing. "And why are you wearing that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was injured, I'd figure that you'd have known by now."

"Well, sorry," he snapped. "Everyone has been somewhat preoccupied recently."

"What is going on?" She demanded. "I wake up and apparently Germany was attacked, and the military has taken over and you're here so I can only assume someone's in surgery."

His mouth formed into an O. "Oh. Right, you were part of the team to get Van Doorn."

"Yes," she answered patronizingly. "I was. I assume that was successful?"

"Yeah, yeah," he answered with a dismissive wave. "Actually, he's still here. Pretty sure he joined XCOM permanently."

Was that so? She perked up and actually let out a smile. "That's great!"

He didn't look nearly as enthused. "Pull up a chair. A lot's happened since you've been out."

She listened in disbelief as he described the attack on Hamburg that had happened during the Van Doorn extraction, then when the Chancellor had effectively surrendered to the aliens, then when the aliens had decided surrendering wasn't enough and began blacking out cities and killing the populace in an effort to subdue it.

"Why would they ever do that?" She wondered incredulously. "They'd effectively won. That doesn't make sense."

"They're aliens," Marten shrugged as if that explained it. "Maybe surrender wasn't enough. Perhaps they just wanted to send a message."

"In the stupidest way possible," she muttered. "Did they think that was actually going to work?"

"It backfired in any event," Marten continued, telling of how the Germany military had effectively secured the country.

"About time," Patricia stated. "That poor excuse for a government deserved whatever the aliens did to them. Perhaps now they'll realize how dangerous they are."

"After what happened, I have no doubt." Marten agreed.

"So what happened now?" She asked, indicating the room with her eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "We were led into a trap. We went down to take a UFO, a large one. Only thing is that the aliens expected us and sent their newest soldiers to overwhelm us. Hulking creatures in green armor and flying mechanical-alien hybrids. Only Liam and I escaped. He's being treated now."

She sat back. "Damn. Who do we lose?"

"Yvette, Simon, Gandy and Trejo," he listed off. "Mostly new soldiers but it's a major loss either way."

She nodded. "We can't afford to keep losing people-"

She was cut off as the door hissed open and Abby walked in, wearing her blue XCOM surgeon uniform splattered with blood on the front. She glanced over a Patricia but otherwise didn't seem to care. Addressing Marten, she lowered her surgeon mask. "He'll live," she told him. "But he'll be out of commission for a few days."

Marten let out a sigh of relief. "Good to hear. At least we won't lose five."

"Hello Patricia," Abby greeted, turning to her. "I would say you shouldn't be up, but we need everyone we can."

"I don't suppose you have my clothes?" Patricia asked hopefully.

"I'll have some brought," she promised and walked over to the waiting desk. "In the meantime, sign this. It's an official release."

Patricia sighed and filled out the form. "If what Marten's been telling me is any indication, things aren't good."

"I don't disagree," she agreed, taking the form. "But this war is far from over."

"Well," Patricia stated grimly. "I hope the aliens return soon. I think it's time for some payback."

Australia, Canberra

Ali Ennor pulled his car into the driveway and shut it off, then leaned his head against the headrest. What a mess this was. The whole Germany debacle had been a disaster and they showed no signs of wanting to rejoin the council. He hadn't been at the meeting, but apparently Patrick Rush had been chewed out by the new Chancellor.

He sighed. This was not how everything was supposed to have gone. And to make matters worse, Germany was going to make an official alliance with XCOM. Normally, that would be fine as XCOM was still technically under the directive of the Council.

But the Commander had repeatedly made it clear with his actions and words that he was in no way answering to them. Wonderful. Now the Commander was receiving funding from Germany and Israel with no Council oversight. He'd made his case, along with the others, to remove him from his position.

But he was still in the minority. Too many still supported him, and after what the aliens had done in Germany, even the more moderate members were acknowledging he was still needed.

He pursed his lips. He needed to think, he had one theory, but he had to refine it before he shared it with the others. If he could prove it, not only would the Commander be removed, he'd likely be executed like the criminal he was.

And somehow the Commander had managed to mess up even preparations for his replacement. Worse was that it was completely accidental. Thanks to Irene's utter screw up, not only had they lost Van Doorn, the strongest candidate to replace him, the councilors on the side of the Commander were looking to remove their only representation.

Worse was that he didn't even really blame them, and if it came to a vote, he'd feel obliged to support them. She had assured him that her personal history would not interfere and had utterly failed in that regard. He despised the Commander because of what he represented, his policies and views he held. She despised him personally. There was an important distinction, one she failed to see.

He'd worry about that after dinner. Hopefully Ayla remembered he was coming in early. He opened the car door and stepped out and began walking to the door. He paused as he heard voices inside. He scratched his neatly trimmed beard. Ayla hadn't told him she was having people over, it must have been recent.

He shrugged and opened the door. He hung up his keys and followed the smell to the kitchen. The voice became clearer, two the sounds of his wife and daughter, he couldn't make out the male voice…Richard? Nah, too deep.

He entered the room and his blood froze.

Leaning against the wall, in XCOM military fatigues and casually chatting with his wife, was the Commander.

"Ah, Ennor!" he greeted with a smile that only reached his lips. "Glad you made it! I was afraid our meeting was off."

"You didn't tell me you were meeting someone," Ayla chided as she walked over, giving him a peck on his stunned face. "I would have made more."

"It was recent." He said tonelessly.

The Commander inclined his head. "No worries, Mrs. Ennor," he assured her. "I imagine our chat won't take too long."

"You didn't mention you were in working with NATO," Ayla told him, questions in her eyes.

He cleared his throat and forced a smile. "Like I said, a recent development," he shot a glance at the Commander. "I hope you haven't told her anything classified."

He waved a hand with a chuckle. "Oh, no. We're just discussing Germany."

"Yes," Ayla mused as she cooked. "Awful what's happened there. Utterly shameful that no one stepped in before it reached this point."

"Well, I can say that I have information about who might have destabilized the country in the first place," he told her smugly, then held up a hand forestalling her inevitable response. "Sorry, classified."

That was not good if what he was implying was what Ali thought.

"Are you fighting the aliens?" His four year old daughter, Amy asked. The Commander knelt down to her height and Ali resisted the urge to throw this man out away from his daughter.

"I am," he told her, in a light tone. "But it's not easy. There's some people that would rather see me fail than worry about the aliens. But don't worry, I'll fight them off."

"Why would they want that?" Amy giggled. "That's stupid."

The Commander rose with a warm smile that instantly became sinister once you looked into his calculating eyes, which he now turned to Ali. "On that, we certainly agree."

He needed to get this man away immediately. He waved his hand back. "We should talk in the study."

The Commander motioned forward. "Lead the way." He walked into the fairly luxurious room, bookshelves lined the walls and a solid oak desk sat in the back, a computer monitor resting on it.

Ali closed the doors behind him and locked them. Now he let the fury inside him out and whirled on the Commander. "What are you doing here?!" He snarled.

The Commander appraised him coolly, the faintest smile on his face. "Was that a question? Well, to talk. What else would I be here for?"

"How did you find me?" he demanded.

"I used Google," he responded wryly. "You're not exactly an unknown figure."

"How did you learn my name?"

The Commander raised a finger. "I'll get to that. Suffice to say your name came up several times from very different people. First though, do you have any listening devices?"

"What does that matter?"

"It matters because I'm going to talk about some very incriminating evidence," he stated calmly. "Evidence I'm sure you wouldn't like falling into the wrong hands."

Ennor crossed his arms. "No I don't and even if I did, you can't blackmail me. I doubt you even have anything. I know how you operate and fear will not work on me."

"I find that hard to believe," the Commander answered idly, looking around the study. "In that case, let me say that I know you were involved in the initial destabilization of Germany."

Damn it. He was afraid of that. And knowing the Commander, he was many things, but he didn't strike him as the type to make accusations he thought were false. Which meant he probably had some kind of proof to back up his accusation. But he could salvage this. Hopefully.

He let out a disgusted snort. "That's ludicrous."

"I would generally agree," he nodded. "The very idea that a specific group of people hate me so much that they'd sacrifice a country just to discredit me should be outside the realm of possibility."

He'd never met the Commander before, so he didn't know if this biting sarcasm was just a characteristic, but it still cut nonetheless. And he couldn't make any defense without incriminating himself. The Commander frowned and took out a little device on his wrist.

"Let's get to the point," he said, crushing the little device he assumed was a bug. "You and I both know what you did. I see no reason to keep up this pretense."

"Do you even have anything to back up what you're saying?" He demanded.

"I'm glad you asked," the Commander smiled and pulled out a small tablet and began tapping. "Let's see….ah," his face brightened artificially. "Directly from Mr. Wernher himself."

He turned the screen to show Ali. The footage was clearly taken in a cell of some kind. Wernher was sitting opposite the Commander. The Commander pressed the play button.

"Then tell me, what you were discussing with Patrick Rush." The Commander

He saw Wernher let out a breath. "How to fix our mistake."

"And what mistake was that?" The Commander demanded, his voice pure steel.

"Destabilizing Germany." Wernher admitted in a rush.

Wernher had been reliable. He shouldn't have broken this easily. Ali couldn't see any signs of physical abuse or torture, but that didn't mean he was confessing under duress. At this point, that was the only way he could see dismissing this case.

The Commander in the video leaned back. "The Council intentionally started this?" he hissed in fury.

"It got out of control-" Wernher attempted to explain.

"And what was the goal?" The Commander spat furiously. "What did you think would happen?"

"Look, I don't know what the original reason was but it had something to do with you."

Shut up. He begged the recording. Just shut up.

"Of course it did," the Commander growled, his fists clenched. "I just didn't think they hated me so much they'd sacrifice a damn country!"

"It wasn't to sacrifice it," Wernher tried to insist, his face pleading. "Just to scare the German government. If people became terrified of the alien threat, then it would reflect badly on you and might convince Germany to pull out of the XCOM project."

"Further damaging my reputation," the Commander spit out, shaking his head. "Clever."

"You've made some powerful enemies-"

"Shut. Up." He growled. Wernher cowered in his seat.

"What's your part in this?" The Commander demanded after a few seconds.

"I was to have my station bring attention to the alien threat," Wernher explained rapidly, his face terrified. "Then the rallies and protests started and we thought we might as well capitalize so we started that. The censorship was planned and was supposed to be the breaking point for Germany. But they were more stubborn than we anticipated and it soon escalated beyond our control…"

The Commander stopped the video. "I think that speaks for itself."

Ali's mind raced. "This proves nothing," he stated, trying to keep his tone as controlled as the Commanders. "No one was named. And the statement was clearly given under duress. Your 'evidence' is worthless before the Council."

The Commander smiled. "I certainly do not believe the entire Council was involved. But I do believe that if this somehow was released, I would imagine certain Councilors would be furious at this splinter group and would do something to punish them," he shook his head in mock disbelief. "I certainly have no idea what that is, but I imagine the factions within the Council are well defined, and everyone would know exactly who is behind them."

"You do not have as nearly as much support as you think!" Ali shot back.

"Neither do you," he responded evenly. "Else I would have never been appointed in the first place."

"Don't mistake your appointment as support," Eli warned, his fists clenched. "After what you did in Germany, I would expect nothing less than your execution."

"'What I did in Germany?'"The Commander repeated wistfully, looking at the ceiling. "You mean when XCOM saved Hamburg? When I decided to try and prevent Germany's destabilization when no one else would?" He looked back at Ali, eyes cold and distant. "Don't hold me in suspense, Ennor. Tell me what I've done."

"Are you serious?" Ennor sputtered, eyes blazing. "Did you think we would not make the connection between you and the new military occupation of Germany?"

The Commander started laughing.

"Are you seriously suggesting that I am the one responsible for Germany?" He demanded between chuckles. "Do you honestly believe that I have that much power?"

"Take a look at what happened," Ali shot back. "As soon as Germany withdrew from the Council, problems started arising. The blackouts, the protests, every cabinet member dying in an explosion. All of which paved the way for a smooth military occupation. And you know when we went to speak to the new Chancellor? He flatly refused our offer, saying he was going to work with XCOM directly. How convenient for you."

"Considering how the Council was responsible for his country falling in the first place, I can't really blame him." The Commander answered.

"The Council was not responsible-"

"Correction. Part of the Council."

Ali didn't even know how to respond.

"I have to say," the Commander shook his head. "That is some of the weakest circumstantial evidence I've heard in my life. I'm certainly flattered you consider me talented enough to pull something like this off, but honestly take a good look at what I would have had to do."

He raised a finger. "First, causing the city-wide blackouts. You do realize that XCOM does not have an official Intelligence branch, right? Or was there one and I was never told?" He shrugged. "Not that it matters. But I suppose I could if I really wanted to, though it would be extremely difficult."

He raised another finger, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Two. The crowds. Believe me, I wish I could influence crowds, but I don't. And also," he broke off chuckling. "There were protests in three major cities. We're talking thousands of people. Do you honestly think I had the time or resources to do anything close to this?"

"People can be manipulated," Ali pointed out. "These people were on the edge between fear and anger. The blackouts could have been the last straw. You don't need some kind of device to direct a population."

"Congratulations!" the Commander exclaimed sarcastically. "You passed psychology as well! But fine, let's say that was my express goal. Make people angry enough to come out and protest." He paused. "No doubt you also think I somehow managed to make the aliens come down as well and attack."

"No," Ali shook his head. "I say the aliens simply took advantage thanks to you. Everything was handed to them on a platter thanks to your meddling. I would say that you baited them into coming."

"At least you retain some sanity," the Commander muttered. "Though I don't know nearly enough about the aliens to even begin to try 'baiting' them. But as for your final point. Please explain how I managed to break into the Reichstag, with comparable security to the White House, which was no doubt on lockdown due to the nearby attacks. Locate the entire cabinet, kill them, and have time to place a bomb with enough power to blow out part of the building."

"I wouldn't be the first time." Ali stated coldly.

All humor vanished from the Commander's face. His eyes turned cold and features hard as stone. "This may be difficult for you to comprehend," he said softly as he walked slowly up to him. "But I am not the cause of every problem in the world. Every atrocity committed does not always trace back to me. You've built me in your mind as some kind of demon who had a hand in everything when that is simply not true."

He stepped back and turned his back to him. "Allow me to propose an alternate theory," he continued softly. "The aliens took advantage of the Chancellor incredibly naïve peace offer and saw a way to break the country once and for all. They sabotaged the power grids, adding to public unrest. Did you know these aliens also have mind manipulation powers?"

Ali shook his head.

"I thought not," he said softly, dangerously. "You have no clue what I've seen or done. You don't know what I and my soldiers have sacrificed so you don't have to feel the brunt of an alien invasion. But I digress, these aliens might have used their abilities to compel the populace to come out. Who knows? But all it did was lead them into a massacre."

He turned back to him and jabbed a finger at Ali. "They did the sensible thing and destroyed the leadership. But what they didn't count on was the people striking back." He paused and smiled. "What? Did you think the military was going to simply sit back and watch their country fall? No. They actually did something about it which is more than I can say for the United Nations."

There was silence after the Commander finished his speech.

"Why do you hate me so much?" He demanded quietly. "What have I done to you?"

Ali let out a sharp laugh. "You want a list? I can provide documentation of every war crime you committed. You are a sadistic, cruel, manipulative, egotistical, soulless monster of a human. The very idea that some thought that someone like you would be a good choice for leading the defense of humanity sickens me and demeans us all."

The corners of the Commander's lips turned up. "Well, you know what I think? I think the United Nations is a corrupt, inefficient, bloated, cowardly organization that should be burned to the ground and rebuilt. But the difference between us is that I don't go out of my way to impede the United Nations at every turn. While you literally believe in sacrificing countries to discredit me."

"Repeating a lie doesn't make it true." Ali stated coldly, glaring at him.

"Then tell me exactly where I lied," the Commander hissed. "I haven't. But I certainly know the United Nations has. Were you there when I turned myself in after the war? I was promised that those under my command would receive fair treatment or be pardoned and released."

"We kept our word." Ennor stated firmly. "Each of your people received a fair trial."

"Fair." The Commander repeated turning away and walking over to a desk. "You certainly have an interesting definition of the word. My people were certainly sent to trial, true." His tone turned cold and bitter.

"The thing was, it wasn't an American trial. Each of them were sent to courts in Iran, Saudi Arabia, Egypt." He turned back, his eyes filled with unbridled anger. "They were convicted almost immediately and were subjected to torture, humiliation and execution. The United Nations lied, and were I not the Commander of XCOM, I would avenge every single one of their deaths.

He took several steps toward him. "I assure you, if anyone has a right to hold a grudge, it is me. And why did you say you hate me? Because I won a war? If I had killed someone you cared about I could see your point a little more clearly."

"Must they be related for me to feel outrage over the deaths of the countless innocent people you murdered?" Ali demanded angrily. "Should I not feel anger when I saw children hung on crosses? You don't care about human life, Commander. You only care about yourself and circle of friends."

The Commander pursed his lips. "My point is this, Ennor. Despite what the United Nations has done, I was willing to work with them. I was willing to put the past behind me and focus on defending the future of our species." He began pacing back and forth. "But I've had to constantly be vigilant for people seeking to remove me, for crimes I committed nearly a decade ago. I will tolerate your petty grudges no longer."

He spun on his heel and clasped his hands behind his back. "This is your last chance. Promise you will work with me and I will leave you and never bother you again."

Ali sniffed. "Are you threatening me?"

"I assure you, councilor," the Commander told him in a soft, deadly voice. "That if I were threatening you, it would be very clear. I am making you an offer."

"Then let me be perfectly clear," Ali stated, his own voice filling with fury. "The concept of principles may be foreign to you, but to me they are essential. You are the embodiment of everything I've worked my life to stop. No, Commander, I will not work with you and will not stop until your crimes are exposed and you are executed like the criminal you are."

The Commander inclined his head. "As you wish. I want names."

Ali cocked his head. "Sorry."

"Names. Of every councilor allied against me. Give them to me."

He shook his head. "No."

"Have you ever heard of EXALT?"

The change of topic threw him off. Frowning, he answered. "EXALT is nothing but an urban legend. A myth that isn't even based in reality."

"You're learning so much today," the Commander mused, a smile on his face. "Well, I have proof EXALT exists and was involved in the destabilization of Germany as well. Curious thing, your name was dropped several times by EXALT operatives we captured. Those recordings, in combination with that video you saw, would effectively destroy your career."

Ali gave a grin in return. "You overestimate the effect of such "evidence." Do you think this is the first time I've been blackmailed? Try fourth. Any evidence you submit I can make disappear."

His talents were slightly exaggerated, but he was fairly confident saying that the evidence wouldn't affect him. It would certainly throw a wrench into things for a few months, but it was nowhere near career-ending.

The Commander shook his head sadly. "Then I suppose more drastic measures will have to be taken."

"What are you going to do?" Ali demanded haughtily. "Torture me? You'd be signing your death warrant."

The Commander fixed him with a cold, terrifying smile. "Tell me, Ennor. Given a choice, who would you choose: Your wife or daughter?"

Ali froze, his mind not fully processing what was said. "You wouldn't dare."

One look into the Commander merciless eyes was all the answer he needed. "Are you certain of that?" He asked softly.

"You can't intimidate me." Ali whispered. "Not even if you threaten my family."

"Now, who said anything about that," the Commander asked, as he began walking around. "It was just a simple question. One you didn't answer. It certainly would be terrible if something were to happen to one of them…" he trailed off and walked over to a picture of a window.

"One story sticks in my mind," he continued. "In order to ensure his cooperation, a group of KGB agents once captured the son of a terrorist organization leader. They naturally did not comply, so in response, they send little packages to the leader. Each one contained a body part of the son. Nothing large; an ear, finger, or eye. I believe the largest package received contained the forearm."

Ali was petrified by fear as the monster before him continued. "In the end, the leader gave in and his son was received back safe and sound. I certainly don't know if the story is true, but could you just imagine being responsible for a loved ones suffering?" he shook his head in mock sympathy. "I imagine the guilt would be overwhelming. And it would all be so easy to prevent."

"You are evil." Ali whispered. "You were wrong. You are a demon."

"I am a necessary evil," the Commander clarified. "I do what is needed, but what men like you lack the stomach to do. I once saved this world from a greater evil. I will do it again, with or without the help of the Council."

"So tell me, Councilor Ali Ennor," he finished quietly. "The names of those allied against me."

He had to. This man was just ruthless and evil enough to actually kill or torture someone he loved. He couldn't risk it. He just couldn't. He stormed over to his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and began scribbling names.

"Take it." He spat, shoving it in his hands. The Commander smiled and inclined his head in thanks.

"Appreciated. That's all I wanted." He picked up his pack and began walking past him towards the door. "Wage your petty campaign against me if you wish," he called over his shoulder. "But remember that your actions have consequences. And I shouldn't have to remind you to keep this conversation between us."

"Without a doubt." Ali spat venomously.

"Then goodbye," he nodded, with a little wave. "If you'll excuse me, I have a war to win."

And he left him there.

Helpless and hopeless as the monster left the house with a smile on his face.

The Citadel, Barracks

Luke fiddled with the laser pistol as he sat at the edge of his bunk. The few that were occupying this part of the barracks were sleeping. He just needed to occupy himself somehow and fiddling with a dangerous piece of equipment seemed to do the trick.

It was insane what was happening.

First the attack on Hamburg. Then the surrender, then the massacres at Berlin, Munich and Cologne. The murder of the government and now the military taking over. This horrendous sequence of events shouldn't even be possible. Each thing that happened worse than the last. He prayed that something worse wasn't coming.

Though honestly, what could possibly be worse? The aliens just deciding to annex the country altogether? He snorted in disbelief. He'd have thought it impossible, but that word was having less and less meaning as this war went on.

He'd met the Defense Minister once. At some public event, he didn't remember which and the man had…well, nothing had really struck him about the man. Not enough to know what kind of leader he was going to be. Luke was torn. On one hand, he didn't want to see another dictator rise in his county, there were enough of those in it's history. But on the other hand, it wasn't as though anyone else was going to help. The world seemed content to just watch it burn.

United Nations. He scowled. Yeah, sure, united until they deemed it not worth saving. For a group that was supposedly interesting in uniting the world, they didn't seem particularly keen on helping one of it's members. Any why should they? It wasn't as if anyone important was threatened.

He had no doubt that if something had happened to America, England or any other major nation, the UN would be tripping all over themselves trying to help. But no. Germany was expendable and he wasn't even surprised. He was beginning to understand why the Commander despised the UN.

"Are you trying to take it apart?" He looked up to see Mira standing opposite him, her arms crossed and hood shadowing her face.

He sighed. "No. I'm just…thinking."

She nodded. "I imagine so."

He scooted over on his bunk. "You don't have to stand."

She walked over and sat beside him. "I appreciate it," she told him. "How are you doing?"

He tossed the pistol onto the empty bunk opposite him. "I'm conflicted and angry. Conflicted over the new de-facto Chancellor and angry that no one seemed to care enough to stop this in the first place."

Mira was quiet for a few seconds. "I don't think the military had a choice," she told him. "How else should they have responded to keep the country from falling apart?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe it's because I'm worried about what he's going to do with his power. I don't want to see a dictator rise and take advantage."

"I don't think that will happen," Mira reassured him. "Someone will stop him before that happens."

"Who?" Luke asked wearily. "No one cared before. No one will care now."

At least she didn't say the United Nations, but then again, Israel had never had the best relationship with the organization. "We will," she told him. "XCOM. The Commander won't allow a dictator to keep control, especially if he decides to work with us."

Luke sighed. "We ultimately are a United Nations force. And I doubt they want us getting involved."

"If the Commander has proven one thing," Mira said. "It's that he won't even take them into consideration if that were to happen."

He shrugged. "We'll see."

"I'm sorry you're going through this," she told him softly. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

He gave a sad smile. "Well, thanks."

"I meant what I said earlier," she told him, taking his hand in her gloved one. "If this new Chancellor proves to be nothing but a dictator, I will execute him myself."

He had to chuckle at that. "You certainly don't make easy promises."

"No," she agreed. "But I do make ones worth keeping."

"Thank you," he told her, not knowing or caring if he'd said it before. "It means a lot to me."

Mira looked ahead. "I haven't done that in a long time."

"Done what?" He asked.

"Make promises to someone. Much less ones that I would do anything to fulfill."

"Does it bother you?"

She shrugged. "Yes. But in this case I'm willing to ignore that."

With that they sat in silence for a while. Enjoying what little calm they had left before being thrown back into war.

The Citadel, Office of the Commander

That had gone well. He highly doubted that Ennor would try anything after his not-so-subtle threat, especially since he believed that he could and would actually follow through. Sometimes his reputation worked in his favor, even if it wasn't the path he wanted.

Hopefully that would keep the Council off him for a while. Thanks to the list of names, he now had the means to make sure the Council fell into line if they continued on this futile path. He had no illusions that they would stop. Instead, they would just be far more careful and cunning. But he'd bought some time and now he could focus on the aliens until the war stabilized before returning to the Council.

Then there was EXALT. The organization everyone said was a myth. He'd have to be vigilant for them. They seemed to have vanished since Germany, though it wasn't as though he'd made a concerted effort to find them. But if this organization actually had enough influence to alter world events, he had no doubt they'd show up again.

His intercom buzzed. "Yes?"

"Commander," Bradford answered. "The Council wishes to speak to you."

He frowned. Ennor wouldn't have been stupid enough to go the Council without proof, right? Because if so, this could be a major issue. Or perhaps the Council simply wanted to talk after what had happened. He relaxed a bit. That was probably the more likely answer.

"Understood, Bradford,"he answered. "Put them through."

He got up from his chair and turned to face the screen on the wall. It flashed and the familiar silhouetted figure appeared on the screen. The bald Speaker. Good, they might actually have a productive conversation.

"Commander," he greeted. "We have much to discuss."

He inclined his head in greeting. "That we do, Speaker. I assume the Council has been following the situation in Germany."

"Indeed," he nodded. "While the actions of the German military are…worrying…we do acknowledge that the country is not under the threat of alien influence. The Council understands that the former Defense Minister has made contact with XCOM directly."

"That is true,"the Commander acknowledged. "He has offered funding and resources towards my fight against the aliens."

"While the Council is certainly…pleased…that Germany will continue to support XCOM, some in the Council find the fact that two nations outside the oversight of the Council now work with you…worrying."

"With all due respect, Speaker," the Commander interrupted. "Have they considered that they might find me more reliable than the United Nations? The United Nations did nothing to prevent the fall of Germany, and I don't need to repeat the…heated…history between them and Israel."

"We acknowledge that some aspects of the German situation were…mishandled," the Speaker told him, inclining his head. "However, some within the Council do not believe you are authorized to make direct negotiations with outside countries."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is this an official order to refuse aid from willing countries?"

"No." The Speaker clarified. "The Council is well aware that you would simply ignore any directive placed on you. But let me be clear; do not overstep your authority."

What did that even mean? Well, it was easy enough to promise. "Certainly, Speaker. I would never go outside my clear and well defined boundaries."

The Speaker ignored his sarcastic comment. "Commander, the Council feels that relations between us have become…strained."

He sighed. "That tends to happen when a not-insignificant portion of your Council makes it their goal to work against me."

"Regardless of the actions of certain Councilors," the Speaker continued. "We can both agree that this continued tension benefits none of us."

"I agree," the Commander insisted. "I have been perfectly willing to work with you and I have. But even you must admit it's difficult when you speak to certain representatives who clearly loathe you for simply existing."

"The Council agrees," the Speaker said, folding his hands. "We no longer believe Speaker Irene Adilah represents the interests of the Council and has been relieved of her position. Moving forward, I will assume her duties until such time as a new Speaker is chosen to replace her."

Was that right? Huh. They were actually doing something reasonable. Though he had the suspicion that she was being replaced less for her words and more due to the fact that he now knew her name. The Council liked being anonymous, and she no longer was. A good move, regardless of the reasons.

"That is good to hear," the Commander answered. "This will certainly make things easier moving forward."

And now for the ultimate appeasement. He began walking back and forth. "I realize that the scope of this invasion is incredibly broad. As such, I feel that a more concerted effort to understand the alien materials will be necessary to ensure worldwide security. Thus, I have decided to allot a small amount of the alien materials recovered to the Council to use as they see fit."

The Speaker actually seemed surprised, as he slightly leaned back. "The Council is…pleased…with you decision. We assure you that we will devote our best people to utilizing the alien materials."

"Excellent." he answered. Good. The Council would be distracted trying to solve the altered materials and he'd gained time to focus on the aliens.

"The Council rests assured that you will continue to work so that an event like Germany is not repeated," the Speaker said. "Remember, we will be watching."

And he ended the call. Hm. That had been fairly abrupt. Not that he was complaining, that had gone far better than he'd expected. He went back to his chair and sat down, then began compiling exactly how much he was going to allot to the UN. After Vahlen made the necessary alterations of course.

He breathed in and out. With the Council out of the way for the time being, it was time to focus fully on the alien threat.