Decided to end the fic, see the extended note at the end.

-x-

Captain Robert Armstrong of the 101st Airborne Divisionwas twiddling his thumbs alongside a crowd of other officers waiting for the briefing to start. As a man of action sitting about made him rather bored, but it was also rather cold in Japan and he could feel the tips of his fingers going numb.

Schmitt was lurking about with a few of his friends from Section 2 and the man turned to see Armstrong looking at him. Schmitt have him a meaningful nod but Armstrong didn't really know him enough to understand what it actually meant.

There had been rumours flying around for months about when they'd be starting a proper offensive into Korea to take the fight to the Soviets and their allies, and many of those in the room veterans of Operations Torch and Overlord, with Armstrong himself having been involved in every major aerial deployment of the last war. However, this was a staff briefing not a regimental one and Armstrong wasn't senior enough to have been involved in any previous planning at larger scales.

All around him were men of the US X Corps under General Almond. The General was experienced but had a series of poor command choices and failures under him, some of which Armstrong had witnessed when he'd fought alongside the 92nd in Italy. He'd heard that Almond was an able administrator but that didn't make a good soldier. The General hadn't even been able to command negro troops and Armstrong didn't think he had the stomach for war.

Just then Almond's aide Haig walked in and addressed them "Gentlemen." He said, "Come with me please."

They all marched along after Haig into a wider arena with a number of boards, maps and all the associated paraphernalia of military strategy laid out and Armstrong took his place next to a few others he knew reasonably well, listening closely as Haig began his speech, General Almond frowning next to him, beady eyes narrowed, and despite his poor opinion of the man Armstrong didn't meet his gaze, looking down at his notes instead.

Haig began and Almond followed, expositing a large amphibious operation to take the port of Icheon and cut across the Korean peninsula, the central idea being that such a hazardous landing wouldn't be expected and, supported by a massive air campaign which would destroy all roads in the area, would prevent any meaningful counterattack from the forces currently besieging Pusan.

"Colonel Ovenshine's RCT to proceed south to Suwon, with the 7th Recon and 41st Heavy Tank battalion…" Haig droned on.

Witte was absent. Armstrong wondered where he'd gotten to, there'd been some scuttlebutt that Witte would be leading one of the Regimental Combat Teams.

The main force would depart from Yokohama at 0400 on the doomful day, with General Smith commander of 1st Marines and part of X Corps leading that element. Armstrong knew Smith had had many conflicts with Almond and wondered who'd assigned that particular commander into that position.

Over the course of the briefing a feeling of dread slowly built in the back of Armstrong's mind. Frankly they needed more time, the war had not gone well for the United Nations, or, given the Soviets had vetoed the intervention resolutions in New York, really just the US a some select allies. Other officers far more senior than Armstrong had said it but MacArthur had carried on with his impulse to attack regardless. From the start they'd been on the back foot, again and again they'd been driven back, lacking the heavier weapons, tanks and planes to make any significant defense till they'd fortified Busan. The Soviets weren't bombing them, but they were interdicting any attempt at the same sort of strategic air campaign that had worked so well against the Germans and the Army's political masters in Washington had forbade escalations such as significant air operations.

Inter-service rivalry had reared its ugly head more than once. Smith and his Marines had wanted to take charge over any whispered amphibious operation, and in general wanted more planning and were complaining loudly that there wasn't enough already. The Navy were sticking their head in occasionally, eager for glory in a campaign which had so far seen them limited to their docks and patrols, and the Airforce were split, some between the strategic bombing advocates and others noting caution, that the conditions were completely different from those in Germany. The Army had always maintained that they should lead as the main campaign was a land one, and that the operation would be land based after the initial amphibious landing, and clearly eventually they'd won out if what Almond was now saying was true about the supporting operations.

"1st marine division, less the 5th, loaded at Kobe, the 5th at Pusan," Armstrong made a note "the escorting naval vessels, the Gunfire Support Group, and the command ships, at Sasebo…"

Even the X Corps itself was a half-baked affair, thrown together from capable but ultimately unrelated personnel, and saddled with useless and hazardous allied troops. The 101st had been given about 50 Koreans to fill gaps and most of them could barely speak English. They'd also been ordered to spread disinformation among them by announcing plans within earshot in case any were spies. It was almost impressment, they'd given the Koreans 6 weeks of training with wooden rifles and they must have fired a few rounds each only, completed two practice jumps and barely been able to feed them up enough to resolve the issues of malnutrition so present among Asian natives after the last war.

Planning overall had been poor and only Macarthur's motivation and jolliness had been able to keep away a cloud of despair. Frantic attempts to exercise scenarios such as a breakout from a beachhead, opposed river crossings and so on had been conducted and Armstrong had been drilling his men for weeks, ready, or at least as ready as they could be, to spring into action whenever one of the rumors hinted at an offensive.

With a heavy weight in his stomach Armstrong stood as the briefing ended, exchanging looks with a few of the officers he'd spoken with about his concerns before.

"I guess we gotta go." Remarked one with a shrug when Armstrong questioned him, "Orders are orders Bobby. Good luck and I'll see you on the other side."

Michael was standing outside, wearing a military uniform.

"You can be shot for impersonation you know." Remarked Armstrong, the sight amusing him a little.

Michael shrugged, "I'm a spy, its sort of expected, besides this is better than an invisibility cloak."

Michael was one of the CIA's guys, an analyst assigned to the military headquarters in Japan but with plenty of operational experience which had evidently allowed him to pick up a uniform somewhere. He'd been trying to get his reports in through the back channels and Armstrong had been helping him before the CIA had been ejected and packed back off to the US because their reports kept being inaccurate. A few had stayed out of duty and were trying to help out where they could.

"We're being set up to fail." Armstrong confessed, sharing a cigarette back in Michael's office. "It reminds me of this church in Colombia, the window really, the Lord looking down, a sword over you just waiting to fall…"

Michael murmured in a non-committal manner.

"We don't have aerial superiority now, and if this new air offensive fails we're done, corsairs off the carriers won't be able to do much, if the Soviets get enough warning… if they get up in time… if they can move forces near enough quick enough…"

"I'm surprised at you." Michael replied after a while, "I've been the one who's been pessimistic so far, they took us by surprise but we'll take them in the second half, you'll see. Here, have a drink with me, that'll cheer you up!"

Armstrong considered it, "No." he refused, "It's tempting but I need to take a final look over some G-2 reports."

He stood, extending a hand to Michael and they shook in the same way they had back at the Citadel.

"Go dogs!" Michael grinned.

"Down the field!"

Later, much later, after the roar of aircraft engines and the cold air rushing past, after the wrenching of the parachute cord and the gunfire and smoke, after three days of battle and after they'd thoroughly been defeated Armstrong was brought before a smirking Soviet Colonel inside his command post.

"Captain." The Russian addressed him and Armstrong noticed he was wearing the same black beret that a man of the 101st would have worn.

"Colonel." Armstrong grunted back, too tired to care about politeness.

"I am Colonel Maskirovka, your pocket is surrounded and I am aware you are out of ammunition. I do not intend to massacre you, but nor do I advise you create another Bastone."

The Russian spoke well and Armstrong regarded his cold eyes thoughtfully. In fact their pocket still had a moderate store of ammo and supplies that Armstrong, the most senior unwounded officer in the area, had ordered maintained in case of the need for a breakout.

"I am not willing to surrender at this time." Armstrong replied, then with a sigh continued, "However I request the present ceasefire be extended, and I'll give you my word that we'll take no offensive action."

The Colonel nodded, "I accept this proposal, and further I'm willing to send you medical supplies and personnel."

Armstrong smarted, it wasn't his custom to accept the charity of an enemy, but he hardly had any choice and thanked the Russian through gritted teeth, moving onto smaller actions before he left. Frustration built in him at the sight of the Soviet car he was to depart in, not having had any vehicles operation within the pocket to travel in and he turned to the Colonel before he left. "This isn't the end."

It was a futile gesture, but the honour of the Army demanded it. The Colonel seemed amused though. "I agree Captain; this is a time of many beginnings."

-x-

AN: And that's where I'll leave it I think.

Essentially I've lost interest in this story, and the last substantive update was last year, with the story already have a years long hiatus in the middle. I've enjoyed writing it, but there have been many problems. Some of these are more serious, like my difficulties in conveying information in story form rather than as a timeline which perhaps would have been a better format, to the minutiae of which hat a character should wear to be Soviet accurate and maintain verisimilitude. I've enjoyed writing it, and I'll be issuing one more update following this one with a very short stinger section and a more in depth discussion of my reflections on the story, what I've learned and so on which others may find useful if they plan to write.

I'm now going to be moving onto other projects where I'll explore other issues. This story has explored the themes of development and disruption, and a project I've recently started will be exploring agency in interactive fiction, that is to say 'questing', and is currently active on SuffientVelocity under the title "Orc Quest; or, A Critical Examination of Agency Through in Interactive Fiction", it's based in the Warcraft universe. You'll be able to find it by searching that title and my username. We're currently on the character creation so if you want to influence that come over and have a look. I'm interested in how we interpret agency, and the constraints of it to the different choices the 'questers' encounter in this medium.

As mentioned I've enjoyed writing this and I'd also like to thank all the various reviewers and commenters who've assisted in the process of writing with suggestions and critique.

I'll write up the final 'chapter' at some point soon, but I'd find it helpful for you to mention any reflections you had on it, things done well and things done not so well, as I'd like to use this as an exercise to improve as a writer.