Denmark stood on the edge of Oslofjord, watching the planes fly in all directions: fighter jets went north, east, and west to fight the American and Russian forces; cargo planes went south, carrying people and supplies to Normandy.

"I thought you were afraid of heights, Danmark."

Denmark spun around, only to find Norway standing there, dressed in his RNAF uniform.

"What?"

Norway gestured. "You're standing on the edge of Oslofjord."

"I was watching the planes." He shrugged.

Norway looked up at the planes. "It will not be long before the only planes that patrol here are American."

"How can you say that, Norge?!" Denmark was surprised, to say the least. Norway? Give up? Never!

"The troops we have available are far less than the troops America has. It is a simple arithmetic problem."

"You were always better at math than I was," Denmark conceded. "But have we no hope?"

Norway shook his head. He still did not look at Denmark; instead, he studied everything around them, as if trying to memorize what it looked like. "We disarmed after the collapse of the euro. We thought everyone did."

"Where are the others?" Denmark asked after a moment.

"Sweden and Finland are meeting with Prussia and Hungary to discuss the entry of Russia into the war."

"Why did Russia join America?"

"I assume so he could use his alliance to conceal his land-grab. Many of the eastern countries are already under his control."

"And Iceland?"

"I sent him to Northern France- Normandy, now, I guess -to help set up the provisional government. From there, we can conduct raids here and in Iceland. Having our armies there will also prevent them from being taken by American forces."

"You're much better at this than I was, Norge."

Norway glanced at Denmark. "Why do you say that?"

"You were always a better leader than I was. After you…got sick and I took over, we didn't have as many victories as we had during the Viking Ages."

"That is true." He paused. "I came to find you to tell you that our plane is leaving soon."

"Oh, okay."

"The pilots want to leave."

"Where are the American forces?"

"I got news that they have taken Bergen."

"It will be close going south."

"That's probably why the pilots are nervous," Norway replied with just a trace of wry humor coloring his voice.

"And you are not worried?"

There was a pause while Norway considered. "No, I'm not."

Denmark raised an eyebrow. "You sure, Norge?"

Norway sighed. "If it had been up to me, I would stay and fight."

"Your boss is making me leave?"

"Ja. Of course."

"Well, maybe it's for the best. We'll be safer in Normandy." Denmark was an optimist at heart.

Norway glared. "Perhaps that says something about your nature." He sighed. "No matter. It is time to depart."