"Enemy signals are showing anomalies. Large numbers of troops are massing at the front line, should include that batch of main battle tanks that just airdropped in."
But Colonel Hardlin, who was reporting the situation, was no longer the overall commander. Havana had sent over a self-styled general-level officer, with a bunch of military consultants of mysterious origin in tow, all strutting around with their noses in the air, not even bothering to look anyone else in the eye.
The one in the lead was even wearing a gold-trimmed tailcoat, clearly the finest hand-spun wool, and had brought along several pretty maids.
Hard to tell if he was here to fight a war or go on vacation.
Though anyone with eyes could tell where he was from. Aside from Europeans, nobody else strutted around like this, acting like hot shit.
