“General Curt Seaberg, United States Army. Gentlemen, we have the enemy on his heels. Two weeks ago we were panicking, thinking we were going to bomb cities, civilized places. Today, over two thousand ghouls are dead. The momentum has changed. Our enemy has been weakened. His troops are depleted. The time to strike is now. It is time to finish them off before they regroup.”

General Seaberg’s speech grew louder and more forceful as it went on.

“We have almost taken Arenzano five times now. How many more times do we have to fail before we take the gloves off? Now, we all saw what happened when we threatened to bomb the enemy. They hid. They ran and they hid.”

General Seaberg paused for effect.

“I say that we do a flyover. We drop another missile barrage. Make sure that none of the missiles hit urban areas. The ghouls will take cover again. Then, that’s when we hit them. We smoke them out. We take the gloves off. We do not hold back this time. This time we send everything and everyone. We do not hold back. We do not relent. We take back Arenzano once and for all!”

The General shouted the last sentence. The room filled with cheers, grunts, and hurrahs. Even the generally reserved Chinese contingent joined in the uproar. Everyone in the room was standing except one. General Seaberg noticed.

“Commander Ferrari?” Seaberg said.

The young man remained seated.

“No.” He said.

Seaberg replied, “Come again?”

“No, we do not attack Arenzano. We wait.”

“Don’t let this opportunity slip by.” Seaberg growled.

“As unprecedented as our alliance is, our resources are still limited.” Ferrari said. “Those missiles have an average cost of well over a hundred thousand U.S. dollars apiece. Commissioning more after we deplete our supply will take time. For every fifteen missiles launched, only one makes it through the anti-aircraft cannons. Our enemy’s position, gentlemen, is intractable. A war of attrition would appear to be the most prudent course, especially while we test his capabilities. We need to know more about our enemy before we step into a trap.”

“A trap? What do you know that we do not?” Chinese General Zhāng asked.

Everyone in the room knew the mastermind behind the La Spezia garrison. He was too young to be a general or an admiral. Nevertheless, Italian President Nico had declared a state of martial law and given him carte blanche authority. No one even knew what exactly to call him. His authority was clear and absolute in a way that lacked a proper title. They had been simply calling him, “Commander Ferrari.” He commanded respect far beyond his years both for the position that the President had given him and for his planning of the La Spezia feint.

He spoke up, “I know that our enemy is not the bogeyman that he once was. He made a mistake by attacking La Spezia. But he has not made many mistakes since this conflict began. Also, I do not think that our small victory means anything to his morale. In fact, I do not believe that his troops think at all. They only fight.”

“He has not given a speech since his defeat at La Spezia.” Chinese General Zhāng said. “He is no longer filled with confidence.”

“He is not human. We should expect him to use those speeches, or the lack of them, as a tool. If we wait patiently, then we will have another opportunity like the one at La Spezia. Now, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I have battle tape to study. I suggest that you all do the same.” With that, the young man left.

If they had not been fighting on Italian soil, things may have gone differently. For now, though, the other generals fell in line with the young man. Their group had been hastily convened with no clear hierarchy. It was built solely around a single common goal, addressing Ghaelvord’s threat. All agreed to unite against that threat.