Sorry for how long this took. The last year has been insane IRL, and I haven't had time to sit down and write. I'm mostly done with chapter five, and am working on Chapter 6. I want to have at least ten chapters written before I publish, this chapter is just to let you know the story is not dead.

If you guys see any problems, let me know. It's been a while since I touched the story.

I do not own Code Geass.

….

La Guardia Airport Tarmac, Archduchy of New York, Holy Empire of Britannia, March 2018

Euphemia came to slowly. Everything was ringing, the ground beneath her cold and hard. There was a heavy weight on her chest. She opened her eyes, but snapped them shut again; the world was spinning above her. Her stomach roiled. She struggled to get up, but could do little more than roll her head to the side and vomit.

All of a sudden the weight vanished. Euphemia crushed her hands over her ears to stop the ringing. Someone was grabbing her shoulders, shaking her. Through bleary eyes, Euphemia glimpsed Alicia, left eye scrunched shut, brown hair matted to her head with blood. Her lips moved, but Euphemia couldn't hear what she was saying over the ringing.

She felt tired, so very tired. She needed a nap.

Ruben appeared beside Alicia, his face covered in bleeding cuts, hair disheveled, one arm held painfully in hand. Alicia turned to say something to someone Euphemia could not see.

Where are Alfred and Clara? Euphemia wondered.

Alicia was trying to say something to Euphemia.

"I can't hear you," Euphemia said. "It's the ringing. This goddamn ringing. I can't hear you. I can't."

Alicia winced. Euphemia suspected she had said that rather louder than intended. Alicia's lips moved again, but Euphemia couldn't hear a word of it.

"I'm tired," Euphemia said. "I'm really tired. Wake me when this is over."

Alicia shook her head. She leaned over Euphemia, lips moving frantically, lone open eye wet.

So pretty.

Euphemia's eyes began to slip shut, but Alicia shook her shoulder with one hand.

"Let me sleep!" Euphemia demanded. "Let me sleep! I'm tired, let me sleep!"

Alicia was still shaking her when a couple of men in green uniforms appeared, brushing her out of the way, shining flashlights in Euphemia's eyes.

Then she was off the ground, and she was rolling, and there were burning bodies in front of the blazing cars, pitch black smoke billowing into the sky.

…...

Camelot Staging Ground, Dosches, Unincorporated Area Twenty-Six

"Well, there goes the beach," Suzaku grumbled.

The Camelot staging ground was being rolled up and packed away. The trailers would be repurposed for something else; since the test unit would be stationed aboard the Avalon, there was no point in keeping their mobile housing modules.

They had waited all week for Peace Mark to show, but the terrorists must have gotten wind that the jig was up, because they never did. Tense anticipation turned to boredom, then aghast disappointment as the clock struck twelve on Suzaku's vacation plans.

"You say something, My Lord?" Ledo asked.

"Just how he was planning on nailing the Major under the boardwalk," Schnee said.

Suzaku blushed to his roots. "Sch-Schnee!"

"Come on, like Ledo wasn't thinking it."

"I'm not stupid enough to say it aloud, Schnee,"

"So you were thinking it!"

"Maybe I should give the both of you first class tickets to the Slovakian Front!" Suzaku snarled.

"Listen to the Sir, threatening us, Schnee."

"All that power has gone to his head, Ledo."

"And to think, he was such a good boy."

"Power corrupts, and absolute-"

With a "You can both go to Hell!" Suzaku stormed off, leaving his two friends to laugh at his back.

Soldiers saluted and heads bowed as Suzaku passed, to which he gave perfunctory nods of his head. He found Cecile on the far side of the encampment, directing some of the moving traffic and going over a checklist on a clipboard with an aide.

"Excuse me," Suzaku cut in to whatever they had been saying, arm wrapping around Cecile's shoulders as he took the clipboard and pen from her hand and tossed them into a surprised soldier's hands, "need to borrow the Major for a minute."

"Su-Suzaku!" Cecile stammered, blushing and confused.

"Won't be long!" Suzaku called over his shoulder.

"Yes, My Lord!"

He guided her into the tree line, the foliage blackened and splintered from past artillery strikes. He pressed her against a tree just out of sight and leaned in. Cecile's lashes fluttered, her cheeks flushed.

"I'm thinking of quitting," Suzaku said.

Cecile blinked. "Quitting?" she repeated.

"Yeah. I'm just not cut out for this army life, you know?" he said. "Drill this day, work that day. Nonstop overtime, they never respect your vacation or holidays, and the supervisor's constantly up your ass."

"Sounds rough," Cecile agreed. She covered her mouth. "Well, Army life's not for everyone. You have something lined up?"

"Yeah. I'm a pretty good pilot. I figure, why not work for an airline? Pretty good pay, see the world, all that."

"You certainly have the talent," Cecile agreed. "But they don't exactly respect holidays or time off either."

"True, too true. Maybe work it a couple of years, then become someone's private jet pilot."

"Whose?"

"No idea. Someone important." Suzaku screwed up his eyes, as if deep in thought. "Like...an actor. Or a nobleman. Someone who'll pay me a lot of money to sit around and do nothing until they need a flight."

Cecile stifled a giggle. "Sounds like you have it all worked out."

"It pays the bills, that's for sure."

"But I'm afraid you can't quit just yet."

Suzaku frowned. "Why not?" he whined.

"You're under contract," Cecile reminded him, and even her hands couldn't hide her amused smile. "The Army's real particular about fulfilling contracts. You'll need a great lawyer."

Suzaku sighed heavily. "Dammit. You're right." He closed his eyes, tilted his head to the side. "It was a dumb idea anyway."

He sensed Cecile leaned forward, and her warm breath drifted gently over his lips.

"I think it's wonderful," she breathed.

Her lips were soft, and sweet, and the embrace was over too soon before she whispered in his ear, "Now come on, let's get back to work."

As they returned to the encampment, a soldier approached.

"Sir Kururugi," he said, "His Highness the Prime Minister demands your presence immediately."

Suzaku raised an eyebrow. "Sounds important," he said. "He say what he wants?"

"No, My Lord, only that you were to contact him at once."

"Understood," Suzaku said. He gave Cecile a long-suffering grin. "Duty calls."

…

Landau, Occupied Germany

"Storm clouds are gathering over the Euro-Asia Conference that is set to begin in just a few days," Milly reported into her microphone. "Dignitaries from across the northern and eastern Eurozone are meeting to discuss possible signing of the Greater Eurasia Pact, aligning themselves directly with the Dark Lord Zero's Empire. His Highness, Prime Minister Prince Schneizel, could not be reached for comment, and His Majesty has yet to release a statement on the potential signing by neutral nations. Experts argue that Britannia must launch a preemptive strike before the enemies of Order and Justice finalize their alliance." Milly took a breath. "Unfortunately, tight fighter jet and aerial Knightmare Frame screens developed by the enemy's top scientists even now circle around St. Petersburg, making any preemptive strike against the distant foes hazardous at best. I spoke with Their Royal Highness', the brothers Rui Britannia, and they said only the Knights of the Round may be able to carry out such an attack."

As the footage back at the station began to play, Milly fiddled with the collar on her coat, trying not to let her anxiety show. Not included in her report was speculation that His Majesty was drafting an ultimatum warning of a declaration of war. People were already afraid enough. No need to fearmonger.

We are already at war with most of the world, she thought.

Fighting was intensifying all up and down the Rhine Front. This close to the German border, she could actually see the interlacing of energy weapons and rocket fire. If she had to guess, the Empire was working to establish air superiority in the lead-up to the big push.

I swear, operational security is a joke, Milly thought. The Euros have to know we're coming by this point. It's like the higher ups want our boys going into a bloodbath.

She drew her attention back to the street. Her throat seized.

Bodies hung from telephone poles. Bloated, stinking corpses lined the sidewalks, many shot, others bayoneted. Children were staring at her, so many children, and their parents, and their friends, their faces rotting, skin melting into puddles on the ground below, skeletal eyes yellow and weeping ooze and pus, staring, staring, staring at her forever with gazes transfixed by death.

They were all Elevens.

"Milly! Milly!" Someone was shaking her shoulder.

Milly snapped around. Rivalz was looking at her, worry etched into his face. "Milly! Are you alright?"

"I-What-th-those-" she pointed with shaking hand, and looked. Her jaw dropped.

The street was clean. Only soldier and civilian traffic lined the road between the ruined houses.

"Milly, you totally blanked out! What's wrong?"

Milly didn't answer. She stumbled to the nearest trash can and retched into it, heedless of the scowling disgust from the people nearby.

"Milly!" Rivalz's hands were on her shoulders, pulling back her hair.

"I'm fine," Milly was in the middle of saying when she retched again, coughing raggedly.

"That's it," Rivalz said. "I don't care what Gerry says, I'm taking you home."

Milly shook her head. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing with disgust. "I'm fine," she breathed. "I'm fine. It must have been something I ate."

"Milly, you-"

Her phone buzzed in her breast pocket. Wincing, Milly slipped it out, then groaned. "Gerry," she said on seeing the caller ID. "Dammit. He must be really pissed." She gave Rivalz a weak smile. "Guess it's already time to face the music."

She answered her producer's call with a nonchalant, "Hiya!"

"Milly," came Gerry's voice.

Jeez, he must be pissed, Milly thought. He doesn't use my first name.

"Look, I get I spaced out for a minute there," she said, "but-"

"I understand, Milly," Gerry interrupted.

Huh?

"If you need a couple of days, I understand," he continued.

Milly raised an eyebrow. "Gerry, what's wrong?"

"What? You mean you haven't heard?"

Worry started to build up in Milly chest. "Heard what?"

….

Conference Room, The Winter Palace, Saint Petersburg, Russian Federal Republic

"It looks like Sweden's a definite lock," Lelouch said. "Norway is still trying to straddle the fence, but they should realize the situation in the North Sea is going to force them to choose a side, and I'm confident they'll pick ours."

C-Two planted a miniature flag bearing the crest of the Black Knights on the area marked Sweden on the map of Europe they were standing around. "Finland and Ukraine are going to be hard gets. The Second German Rebellion wasn't that long ago, and neither of them have forgiven the Russians for their part in it."

"Hey, we got Poland onside at least," Kallen remarked. "That should tip the scales for them, right?"

C-Two nodded. "True. That said, they haven't officially signed any treaties. They can always renege on whatever deal we come up with if they don't like what other people are getting."

Kallen scowled. "You'd figure we'd be all in this together, considering the Brits are right at their goddamn door!"

"A lot of these countries are making the calculation that Britannia is finished," Lelouch said. "They're overextended, exhausted, and running short on Sakuradite. They're probably thinking the war's as good as won. The rest is just kabuki."

"Yeah, but in kabuki, no one dies," Kallen retorted.

"Not true, Kozuki," C-Two said. "I died at a kabuki once."

Both Kallen and Lelouch looked at her, startled. "How the Hell did you die at a kabuki theater?" Kallen asked.

"Bullet to the head during the February 26 Incident. Stray machine gun fire went right through the walls." C-Two chewed her lip. "I was the only one hit. Bastards."

"That...Never mind," Lelouch said, shaking his head. He turned to Inoue, who had arrived on a separate plane to minimize the chance of the Cabinet getting taking out with a single strike. "Have you managed to get Orange yet?"

Inoue shook her head. "Negative, My Lord. His burner has been disconnected. My guess is he ditched it right after the Liberation."

Lelouch tapped the map, contemplating. "Look into the main commanders of the Invasion of France. It shouldn't be too hard to find their contact information. If I know Orange, he'll have attached himself to one of their staffs."

Inoue bowed. "At once, My Lord."

Orange was the code name of Zero's most confidential agent, known only to Zero himself. The character was shrouded in mystery, but it was known among the High Command that Orange was highly placed within the colonial government in the days of the Occupation.

After Inoue departed, Kallen asked, "Just who is Orange, anyway? I get he's pretty high ranking, but how high we talking?"

"Perhaps we should answer that question when there are less prying eyes," C-Two recommended before Lelouch could say a word.

"Indeed," he agreed. "You'll know him soon enough, Kallen."

Kallen shrugged. "Fair enough."

Jeremiah will have some explaining to do, C-Two thought. The man near singlehandedly conquered France for the Empire. It's going to be damn annoying rooting them out.

"The conference is in forty-eight hours," C-Two said. "We've got the Balkans pretty much locked up, but we still need permission to cross Germany's borders."

"I know," Lelouch huffed, irritation coloring his robotic tone. "I can't believe they're giving me the run around. What the Hell are they thinking?"

…

W-0 Barracks, The Underground, Federal Republic of Germany

"Jesus Christ, are you serious?" Ryo Sayama asked.

The W-0 unit sat in a circle around Leila in their common area as she outlined the plan High Command had devised. Their quarters, such as they were, amounted to stone floors dank with moisture from broken pipes, rubble for their pillows, and a hole in the ceiling that let in dim, sickly yellow light.

Ryo and Ayano openly gaped, while Yukiya narrowed his eyes.

"That's completely batshit," Yukiya said. "There isn't a chance in Hell the Air Force will have air superiority."

"We don't need air superiority," Leila argued. "Only to contest the airspace."

"Leila, you saw what those flying Knightmares did to our fighters!" Ayano retorted. "We'll be lucky if anyone's still in the sky after the first hour!"

"Once the fighters go, we're all dead," Yukiya said. "There's no way we can isolate Essen without air superiority."

"This plan is garbage, boss," Ryo added.

"It's the best hope we have of turning the tide," Leila replied. "Zero's sold Eastern Europe to the Russians, so we can expect an invasion of Poland and Ukraine at almost any moment. Even if they simply yield to the Black Knights, that is still millions of troops marching on us from our exposed flank. This plan gives us our best chance to at least force the Brits to the negotiating table, maybe even allows us to withdraw from this war with some of our national boundaries still intact."

"Leila, we're not even from here!" Ayano said. "Why should we give a shit about a few arbitrary lines on a map?"

"The Black Knights are Japanese," Ryo said. "We should be trying to get into contact with them, hightail it out of here while we still can."

Leila glared at him. "That would be desertion, Lieutenant. I'll pretend I didn't hear it." She crossed her arms. "This matter isn't up for debate. This is the plan High Command has, and it's the best one we've got. We're getting the operation ready right now, so I want you three to get rested and prepped. This meeting's adjourned."

"Leila!" Ayano snapped, but their friend left without another word.

Ryo rubbed the back of his head. "Goddammit," he grumbled. "This plan is suicidal. No way in Hell I'm rushing Essen with flying Knightmares over my head."

"Leila seems bound and determined to get us all killed," Yukiya said. "I'm not leaving Anna to the tender mercies of the Brits."

"Maybe we could get Akito to convince her she's crazy?" Ayano suggested.

Ryo snorted. "You're crazy. Hyuga would charge a Sutherland with a katana if she asked."

Yukiya rubbed his chin. "Maybe not," he mused. "He's still in recovery. He's not fit for duty." He stared at the ground. "I think he'd do anything to keep Leila safe."

Ryo leaned forward. "You got any ideas?"

…

Above the North Atlantic

Suzaku tapped his finger impatiently against the command console of the Lancelot. The lights in his cockpit were dark, the only illumination provided by the red emergency light while the energy filler was restored. He was connected via power line to a massive V-TOL above the Atlantic, one of several dozen aerial recharge stations the Empire utilized for its ongoing operations in the Eastern Hemisphere. The Lancelot's charge had been nearly out when he arrived, breathless and angry.

They tried to kill her.

Who 'they' were was unknown at the moment. The car bomb at La Guardia killed twenty members of the protection detail sent to escort Her Highness and a member of Euphemia's entourage, while leaving another in critical condition. The Prime Minister had ordered Suzaku's reassignment to her security detail on account of his evident skills and, left unspoken, his and Euphemia's prior relationship.

Who would want to kill her? I know she's been outspoken on her opposition to the war, but no pro-war protester is going to be able to get a bomb past Royal security.

Unless one of the Royal Family had been behind it.

But that doesn't make any sense. Her Highness isn't in the running for the Throne, not with her antiwar stance. His Majesty would never allow someone with that mindset a shot at the title. So why?

Maybe she offended someone at a cocktail party. Lelouch had always ranted about the infighting and backbiting in the Court that had killed his mother. If assassins would target the wife of the Emperor for her commoner roots, why wouldn't they kill a politically isolated princess?

Suzaku gnashed his teeth. There's too many suspects! Too many people in that den of vipers who had the motive and opportunity!

Suzaku wasn't blind, nor stupid. Multiple members of the Royal Family had been killed in the past month, either by 'accident' or war. There was no doubt that something was rotten in Pendragon.

But the ones who ended up dead were people with actual influence. It makes no sense to go after her.

He had thought of, and dismissed immediately, the possibility that the Emperor had been involved.

If he'd wanted her dead, she would be. This was someone else. But who?

He smacked his head against the headrest. Who do you think did it, Lelouch? Have you divined the terrorist from the grave?

His two most precious people in the world, his childhood friends, had been murdered by the Black Knights at the height of the Black Rebellion. He would avenge their deaths, and make a new world of peace and happiness, or he would die trying.

The charging indicator informed him that the filler was nearing a seventy percent charge, which should be enough to get him the rest of the way. The rest of the Camelot unit had been left behind, and would rendezvous with him on the mainland once he'd made contact with Her Highness.

Suzaku smothered the excitement coiling like a viper in his belly. As soon as he had permission, he detached from the recharging platform and gunned it for New York.

…

Emperor George III General Hospital, New York City, Archduchy of New York, Holy Empire of Britannia

Euphemia had cotton in her ears. Everything was loud, too loud, loud enough that she was sure she'd be weeping uncontrollably from the pain. Britannian medical technology was a miracle in itself, but that could be a double-edged sword. Her ruptured eardrums had been healed a little too well. She would have to get used to her hearing soon.

She was weeping uncontrollably anyway.

Alfie...Alfie…

Alfred had thrown himself over her in the moment after the explosion. Steel and glass showered over him, protecting Euphemia even as they both went toppling to the ground. He had been pronounced dead at the scene.

Clara, comatose, skull crushed by a rearview mirror, bleeding out from the inside, would be joining him shortly.

The young woman was laying on the hospital cot in a white slip, her puffy face covered in cuts and bruises.

"I'm sorry!" Euphemia wept, Clara's hand clasped in her own. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm-"

"Princess!" Ruben said, grabbing her gently by the shoulder. "Princess, please!"

Euphemia whipped around to him, eyes red and swollen. "I killed them! I killed them! Alfred and Clara are dead because of me!"

"Alfred and Clara are dead because of whoever planted that bomb!" Ruben retorted. "This is not your fault!"

Euphemia shook her head, her sore head, over and over again. "My fault, my fault, I should've stayed at home, should have just shut up, should never have gotten them involved in-"

Ruben grabbed her by the shoulders, glaring harshly at her from behind the bandages that swaddled his face. "STOP!" he growled.

Euphemia was stunned into silence.

"No more," he continued forcefully. "No more. They died fighting for what they believed in. Do not demean their sacrifice, Euphemia!"

Euphemia blinked rapidly. "I...I would never...I…"

"He's right, Princess."

Euphemia snapped her head around to the door. Alicia stood in the doorway, already dressed in a blue dress from her luggage. Half her face was swaddled in bandages, and her left leg was bound in a cast. A cane was held in her bandaged left hand that tapped across the floor as she walked.

There were unshed tears in Alicia's eyes. "Clara believed in you," she said. "She believed in you, and in what we were doing, with all she had." She clenched her jaw shut. "So did Alfred. They go to their reward with honor, Your Highness."

Euphemia couldn't accept that, not now. But this isn't the time or place for an argument. In a low whisper, she said, "I understand."

Ruben rubbed her shoulder. "No, you don't," he said. "But you will one day."

Alicia coughed. "Your Highness," she said reluctantly, "officers from the ISB are here to interview you."

Euphemia shivered. The ISB, the Imperial Security Bureau, was one of several investigative agencies under the direct authority of the Emperor himself. They were also the most dangerous. Warrantless wiretapping, extrajudicial executions, secret interrogation sites, all of these were tools in their near limitless arsenal to ferret out enemies of the regime.

They had not been assigned to any of the prior 'accidents' in the past month.

What are you playing at, Father?

"I see," Euphemia said aloud. She stood. "Tell them…" She hesitated, looked back to Clara's dying form.

The doctors didn't give her much more than an hour at most; she was fading rapidly. Who knew how long Euphemia would be 'interviewed'?

"We can take over here, Your Highness," Ruben said gently.

Euphemia bit her lip.

Whatever Clara had been part of, whatever she'd been doing behind the scenes (which Euphemia would get to the bottom of), the girl was her friend.

I think she loved me.

Alicia waited expectantly.

Euphemia clenched her fist. She shook her head. "No. No, I'll stay," she announced, to their surprise.

"But-" Alicia began. "But the ISB-"

"Can wait," Euphemia said definitively. She sat beside Clara, and took the dying girl's hand back in her own.

...

Glinda Knights HQ, Sarajevo, Kingdom of Serbia

There was a buzzing sound in Sir Claudio Darlton's ear.

The curly-haired brunette was leaning back in a comfy leather chair as far as he could go. Princess Marrybell was kneeling in front of him, concern writ large on her face. She was saying something-something about an assassination-something about his brother-about Alfred-about-

"What are my orders?" he was asking. His voice was coming out in a low, brittle rasp. "When do I deploy?"

Princess Marrybell was shaking her head. Saying something like, "I'm so sorry, we can't spare you-" and- "Thompson has been assigned the position-" and- "Oldrin, help him to his quarters-"

And he was walking down the hallway of their base, Lady Oldrin leading him along like a child, and his comrades were all slapping his back or giving condolences or promising revenge or saying that Alfred died a hero-

And he was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down into the photo of him, and his brothers, and his Father, and Sir Guilford, and Princess Cornelia, into the still images of his dead family.

…

EU Headquarters, The Underground, Berlin, German Federal Republic

Leila pored over the map of Europe alone. She connected each of the disparate fronts in her mind, then grabbed miniature flags representing the combatants, and began to move them around.

The Poles are signing the Greater Eurasian Pact, she thought as she shifted Polish flags to the north German border. Fighting the Russians a third time in fifty years isn't desirable, and there's still great resentment against the Germans for Heidler's Invasion.

She grabbed several EU flags on their southern flank and moved them to block the Polish flags. To counter this, we're moving troops from the south to reinforce our northern defense line. She picked up Britannian flags from the southern front and brought them against the remaining EU flags. The Imps will see our weakened lines and advance.

She removed the flags in the Empire's way.

Breakthrough. She marched the flags all the way to Berlin.

She reset the pieces, pulled flags from other fronts, repositioned others to protect Germany.

Breakthrough.

She abandoned the Essen operation entirely, beefed up the flags in the area for defense, reinforced the south.

Breakthrough.

She tried all manner of combinations of forces and positions. The result was the same every time.

Breakthrough.

Breakthrough.

Breakthrough.

"Goddammit," Leila whispered, tipping the EU flag over for the tenth time.

She heard footsteps behind her.

"Leila?" Smilas asked. "What are you doing in here? It's late, you should be abed."

Leila didn't turn to him, still focused on the table. "My unit doesn't have much confidence in our plan," she said. "They think it's downright crazy."

She had waited until after their visit to Akito on purpose. Akito was in no position to fight, wouldn't be for months. One of her friends letting the operation slip to him would do him no good, and he'd kill himself trying to get ready for action.

"When have soldiers not thought their superiors' orders were crazy?" Smilas riposted, joining her at the table. "I'd question their sanity if they thought it wasn't."

Leila glanced over at the Eastern Front. "Have we heard anything back from the Ukrainians?" she asked.

Smilas shook his head. "The last transmission we received from them was a panicked communique of how the Russians were forming along their border. Communications have been jammed since."

Damn.

The Brits were tearing through Romania at a steady pace. Ukrainian reinforcements had been counted on to stem the tide. But with the Ukrainians split between guarding their northern flank against the oncoming Russian horde and assisting the Romanians in the south, their forces would be too divided to stand against the Britannian-Balkan onslaught. The Russians might even be welcomed as liberators when they crossed the border.

"And we've heard nothing from Zero and his Black Knights?" Leila asked.

"Not a thing. It seems Zero's fully prepared to carve up Europe with his Russian benefactors."

That's what I was afraid of.

"With the Poles turning their coats, we can expect Russian and Black Knight troops to start flooding our northern borders. With that mind, I started running some simulations," Leila said, moving a piece on the board.

"And your conclusion?"

Leila took a deep breath. "Gene," she said carefully, "the Essen plan isn't going to work." He didn't reply. "It was a long shot to begin with," she continued, "but it at least had a chance. Before the Russians and the Black Knights moved into position. But, there's no way the Brits aren't seeing the same troop movements we are. They're not going to just let a whole army be used against them by a government that likely won't exist shortly. "

"This was your plan, Leila," Smilas reminded her.

Leila grimaced. "I know," she acknowledged. "I'm...I'm sorry."

Smilas stepped around the table, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The plan will work, Leila," he assured her. "Once the Black Knights and the Britannians come into contact, all of their focus will be on one another. It's the only opportunity we'll have to save Europe."

Leila covered his hand with her own. "Gene, there is no Europe anymore," she said gently.

"What would you have me do, Leila?" Smilas asked. "Surrender?"

"No! Of course not!" Leila retorted fiercely.

The perfect solution would be to request aid from the Black Knights. There was no doubt they could get something at the negotiating table. Even if it meant accepting Russian-Black Knight dominance, the EU could be brought more or less functioning, if not exactly intact, into the burgeoning Eurasian Empire.

If Zero would only pick up the phone, all their problems were solved.

What I wouldn't give to just have five minutes to speak to him!

Smilas turned her all the way around. He clasped her both her shoulder in his hands. "Then what choice do we have but to fight?"

The sudden air of defeat from her mentor deflated Leila's anger. Sadness welled up in her heart. Of course, she thought. That's why.

Troops were being pulled from the southern fronts to shore up their defenses once the Russians came barreling through Frankfurt. They were trying to be quiet about it, but Leila had no doubt the Britannians would realize their weakness long before the enveloped troops in Essen became a problem. Smilas surely knew that, too.

The EU was facing it's final stand.

A nation that surrenders dies. But a nation that goes down swinging might one day rise again. Our blood will buy the future of those yet to come. Gene...is this really what it's come to?

Even so…

Leila gazed up to Smilas meaningfully. "Gene, if I might ask a favor?"

"Name it."

"Please issue discharge orders for the W-0 unit."

Her friends were Japanese. Even if uniformed EU citizens would soon find themselves the playthings of one superpower or another, she had no doubt the Black Knights would accept the survivors of the W-0 Unit with open arms. If they chose to fight, they would certainly gain high ranks in Zero's army. And if they chose to go home, there were plenty of jobs waiting for them. With the war going further and further westward, they might live out the rest of the conflagration in peace.

At Smilas' surprised look, Leila hurriedly continued. "Ryo, Ayano, and Yukiya are Japanese citizens. They are not European. They should not have to fight our battles." They shouldn't have to go down with the ship with us.

Smilas pulled his hands away. "Leila, they are officers of the EU. They signed their enlistment papers voluntarily. They knew what they were signing up for." He turned back to his meal. "Besides which, we can't spare them, and you know it."

Leila did know it. "Of course, Gene."

Leila returned to her meal, mind already working.

Europe would not be her friends' grave.

I'll get you all out. I promise.

…...

Underground Hospital, The Underground, Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

"Yo! Hyuga! How's it goin'?" Ryo greeted.

Akito glanced up from his meal, a bowl of cement mix they had the audacity to call gruel. Sweat stood out on his skin; the t-shirt he was wearing was drenched. He sat alone on a bench in the makeshift cafeteria, a series of lines of straight tables of every make and model. There were lines for food from big buckets spooned out by tired looking nurses. Other tables had mixed populations of Japanese and Euros, so Ryo guessed Akito just wanted to be on his own.

"Sayama," he said. He looked around. "Is the Major here?"

"Man, a good buddy shows up, and all you can think about is chasing tail? I'm hurt."

Akito bowed his head. "Of course, my apologies. How are you, Sayama?"

Ryo rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, I was joking." He sat next to his friend. "How's the recovery coming along?"

"Good. I can stay upright for five minutes at a time now with no assistance."

"Nice, very nice. Figure you'll be ready for the operation?"

Akito perked up. "What operation?"

Ryo wasn't surprised Leila hadn't told him. "The Brits are coming for Essen," he explained. "High Command wants to cut them off in the city and destroy them."

"Would never work. We don't have air superiority."

Ryo laughed. "I know that. You know that. Hell, I think Leila knows that. Isn't convincing anybody to call this thing off."

Akito sat his food back on the table. He grabbed his crutches and began to struggle to stand.

"Yo yo, where you going?" Ryo asked.

"Need to...get...ba...ck...to work." Akito clenched his teeth. "Have...to...be...re...rea...ready."

Ryo shook his head. "Dude, not happening. Sit down." When Akito ignored him, Ryo grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him back into his seat. "I said sit down. You're going to hurt yourself."

Akito glared at him dangerously. "Get out of my way, Sayama."

Ryo glared right back. "Your own body's in your way, dude, not me. You go out there now, you more likely to help Leila, or get her killed?"

Akito continued glaring at him, but after a moment, he dropped his eyes. "I...I will not just sit by."

"You don't have to," Ryo said. He leaned in. "How married are you to the EU?" he asked quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"The EU. Are you ready to die for it?"

Akito glared suspiciously. "What are you asking, Ryo?"

"Come on, man, just humor me."

Akito sighed. "The EU's just a few lines on a map," he said. "I hold no more love for it than anywhere else."

"Fair enough," Ryo said. "But you love Leila, right?"

"Of course."

"Would you die for Leila?"

"Yes."

Ryo grinned. "Good. But how about living for her instead?"

…..

Conference Room, The Winter Palace, Saint Petersburg, Russian Federal Republic

Getting a hold of Orange was surprisingly simple. Getting through the Empire's digital firewall over the Net was child's play from Russia's infrastructure. From there, records requests from 'media reporters' had allowed them to gain access to the contact information of the commanders who had been in charge of the Invasion. A covert message had been sent to Orange with instructions to secure a clandestine communications line, and to call within the hour.

The room had been swept five times for bugs. To Kallen's silent dismay, Inoue had been thrown out of the room. Lelouch didn't trust her, or any members of the Cabinet. Considering their fears of Lelouch having geassed her were, in fact, accurate, it took a lot to swallow the hypocrisy of Lelouch practically exiling them from his Inner Circle. Only the fact that Ohgi had pulled a gun on Lelouch when he confronted him held her tongue.

With the room secured, Lelouch put the phone on speaker mode.

"Glad to see you're still alive, Orange," Lelouch said.

"My Lord…" the unexpected voice of Margrave Jeremiah Gottwald replied.

Kallen, sitting with arms crossed on the arm of one of the chairs in the room, perked up in surprise.

The former leader of the Purist Faction? That glorified anti-Japanese terror group? That guy is Orange?

That Orange was the leader of the Purist Faction, once the military arm of Viceroy Clovis' oppression of the Elevens, was as shocking as anything Kallen could think of.

Well, maybe not anything, Kallen amended. Between the Geass Cult, the FLEIJA, and her own impending motherhood, all within the space of a year, there really was little that should surprise her.

"Status of the package," Lelouch demanded.

"In improved condition," Gottwald said. "Currently in my possession. However, under surveillance. Interested parties."

"In the package?"

"In the recipient." Gottwald hesitated. "They know of you."

Lelouch stiffened, as did Kallen and C-Two.

"Who knows of me?" Lelouch demanded. "That Man? Golden Boy?"

"No, of course not," Gottwald hurried to reassure him. "Since our long silence, I've had to begin a new business association. We made great progress in our activities in France, but to secure our contract, I was forced to impart certain...confidential information."

Lelouch glowered menacingly at the phone. "Do they know about the package?"

"No. This I know for a fact. I only told them of the recipient. They are ready to rise in its name."

There was no obvious change in Lelouch's expression. Only long hours spent by his side allowed Kallen to see the slight suspicious tightening around his eyes.

"Would these be the five heads of that corporation that I've heard so much about?" he asked.

"Only one. The opinions of the others will soon be immaterial."

"I see. A hostile takeover," Lelouch said. He tapped his chin. "When is this to be carried out?"

"Within the next two weeks. We have a business trip planned for Essen."

Lelouch's eyes sharpened. "Understood. Then we haven't much time. I'll speed up preparations on my side. With luck, we'll meet in the middle."

"There is something else." There was a long silence on the other end. "I don't know how to explain it."

Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "We're pressed for time as it is. Contact me at OH-Five Hundred tomorrow at this number and tell me what it is." He clicked the keypad to end the phone call.

"They're going for Essen?" Kallen said.

"I'm surprised you understood that, Kozuki," C-Two remarked.

Only about half of it. "I'm full of surprises," Kallen said aloud. "Just looking at a map, it's easy to figure out. But what are these other corporate heads he was talking about? And hostile takeover?"

"The leaders of the Holy Orders," Lelouch said. "Euro Britannia's military arm. From the sound of it, Orange was attempting to influence them into a coup. It must not have worked, because he and his accomplice are going to kill them once they arrive in Essen."

"Considering who Orange is attached to, we can assume who his accomplice is," C-Two said.

"Shin Hyuga Shaing, head of the Order of Michael. The only other Japanese man to attain such a position of power in the Empire."

"He's a goddamn traitor,"Kallen snapped. "Just like Kururugi. The murdering bastards deserve each other."

No one home in Japan had forgotten about the massacre perpetrated by Suzaku during the Siege of Tokyo.

Wait, Kallen thought. Something doesn't add up here.

"Lelouch," Kallen said aloud, "wasn't Gottwald in charge of the defense of Tokyo?"

Lelouch shuffled uncomfortably. "Yes," he said. "And before you ask: Yes, he defended the city on my orders."

"But that would mean…"

Kallen's eyes widened.

It would mean Lelouch was indirectly, at least, responsible for the massacre.

"Oh…" she whispered.

"Have something you'd like to say, Kozuki?" C-Two asked pointedly.

Shakily, she shook her head.

"We need to move faster," Lelouch cut in. "I want that treaty signed." He turned to C-Two. "Send Inoue back in here."

C-Two nodded and started for the door.

Kallen turned to him, uneasy. "Are you going to…" She tapped on her eye.

He shook his head. "You heard Orange. I don't have the time."

Kallen smiled weakly, placed her hand on his. "Not the best reason in the world," she said, squeezing gently, "but I'll take what I can get."

He gave her a humorless smile. Inoue reentered the room a minute later.

"Get me the Prime Ministers of Norway, Finland, and Ukraine," he said. "Whatever their demands are, they can have them."

…

Emperor George III Hospital, New York City, Archduchy of New York, Holy Empire of Britannia

Suzaku touched down atop the hospital exhausted and jetlagged. Officers of the ISB greeted him on arrival, providing him a security detail and securing the Lancelot. They wore black suits and sunglasses, and automatic weapons bulged into their coats.

"What's the situation?" Suzaku asked as they marched for the door.

"Outside of busted eardrums and some bruising, Her Highness Princess Euphemia was unharmed," a bald agent said. "Unfortunately, Sir Alfred Darlton was pronounced dead at the scene. Lady Clara Lanfranc died a few minutes ago."

Suzaku clicked his tongue. "Dammit! Have the Ashfords been placed under security?"

"Sir Ruben's son and daughter-in-law have, and we've assigned another unit to Miss Milly Ashford in her apartment in Europe."

"Good. I want every member of that family under protection. The Ashfords have a lot of enemies, this could have been one of them," Suzaku said. "What's the security situation?"

"We have one hundred agents placed throughout the hospital at key strategic points. No one is being admitted. We've shut down all ambulance traffic and redirected it to other facilities."

Suzaku nodded. Euphemia wouldn't like that, but there was no choice. Her safety was top priority.

"Do we have an idea yet as to who was behind the assassination attempt?"

"We're following a few leads, but as of now we have nothing solid. Her Highness hasn't been debriefed yet. She insisted on staying by Lady Lanfranc's side until the end."

"Yeah, that sounds like her."

They took the stairs down to the level her room was on. Checkpoints had been set at the door of every floor, and when he entered the hallway, he could not walk three feet without tripping over an ISB agent.

The sounds of bereavement preceded the room.

Alicia Lohmeyer was hunched over, arms wrapped around the quivering form of Princess Euphemia as she wept into Clara Lanfranc's still chest. Sir Ruben stood over her, a comforting hand on her back.

Suzaku stood at the doorway, torn between his desire to be in Ruben's place, and the responsibility of his duty.

He set his jaw and called out. "Your Highness." His voice came out softer than he intended. No on paid him any mind. "Your Highness. Princess Euphemia!"

Euphemia started. She looked up. Her eyes were swollen and red. Snot mingled with tears that rolled down her cheeks and chin.

"Euphie," Suzaku said.

The girl rose from the bed, rushed around the bed, and threw her arms around Suzaku, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed.

...

Conference Room, Glinda Knights HQ, Sarajevo, Kingdom of Serbia

"Sir Claudio!" Princess Marrybell said. "I wasn't expecting you. We thought to give you more time."

Claudio bowed. "If it's all the same, Your Highness, I prefer to be working," he said. "My brother died protecting Princess Euphemia. A Darlton can ask for no greater end."

The Glinda Knights, the anti-terrorism task force established by the Empire in the wake of the Black Rebellion, sat together around a steel table as their commander, Princess Marybell mel Britannia, briefed them on their next assignment. Her Highness' pink hair was pulled into a tight bun, blue eyes still wide with surprise. She was, like the other Glinda's, already dressed in her flight suit, a skintight red one piece that bared her arms and legs, both covered with white gloves and calf-high boots, a gold heart-shaped design emphasizing the fullness of her breasts.

She seemed dubious about his statement. "Very well," she said after a moment. "You may take a seat next to Oldrin. We only just got started."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Claudio sat down next to Dame Oldrin Zevon, a bosomy blonde with long golden hair tied up in a ponytail, blue eyes, and a mole perched beneath her right eye. The young woman, his superior officer, and Her Highness Princess Marrybell's lover, gave him a small smile.

"It's good to have you with us, Sir Claudio," she said.

"Thank you, Dame Oldrin," he replied.

"As I was about to say," Princess Marrybell raised her voice, "new orders have come down the pike. The Glinda Knights are to be deployed here," she indicated with a wand to a position on a map clipped to a white board, "to Pitesti, just south of the new Romanian capitol of Brasov. Our Bulgarian allies have done a man's job in pushing the Romanians back as far as they have, but they've left behind quite a few straggler units in their race north. Intel reports indicate at least one Peace Mark cell operating in the area, and the brass wants it taken out."

She closed the wand. "Nothing we haven't done before," she continued. "However, this time we'll also be trying out some new equipment that just came in, right off the factory lines. Check your dossier in front of you."

The Glinda's did as told, opening the manila envelops in front of them. Claudio narrowed his eyes. A Knightmare stared back at him, gray with purple accents and large metal wings, crowned by a purple 'V' that looked like the Devil's horns.

"These are Vincent Ward Commanders," Princess Marrybell announced. "Developed from the experimental Knightmare Lancelot, and an iteration of the mass produced Vincent model, these are a huge leap beyond even the Gloucester's we've been using, and ours will be one of the first units to deploy them in combat. These models are for the elite warriors His Majesty knows you to be." She placed a hand on her hip. "I want each of you to familiarize yourself with the machines and their controls. We won't get much time in the simulator before we deploy for our mission, so read your manuals carefully." She nodded. "Dismissed."

…..

Governor's Office, The Winter Palace, Saint Petersburg, Russian Federal Republic

"They're in," Lelouch told Krustchev without ceremony. "I just spoke with the heads of Norway, Finland, and Ukraine. The Ukrainians have agreed to allow your troops to cross their border, provided you sign a trade agreement reducing the tariffs on their grain."

"Consider it done, my friend," Krustchev said. He waved to one of his aids. "Prepare the necessary paperwork, and quickly. I want all the horse trading done with before the conference is finished."

"Yes, sir."

"And what do Finland and Norway want?"

"Security guarantees for the current Russo-Finnish borders, and Norway wants most favored nation trading partner status on machine parts and tools."

Krustchev laughed. "We never had any intention of crossing the Finnish borders anyway!" He waved to his aide. "Add that on there. And whatever the Hell the Norwegians want, too." He focused his attention on Lelouch. "We're all in the shit now then, my friend. I just spoke with the Romanian government. They're prepared to let our troops enter the country. We'll be fighting side by side within the week!"

Krustchev leaned forward. "But we have a problem. I can't get those goddamn Germans to open their borders. 'Any attempt by the Russian Army to pass through our checkpoints will be seen as a declaration of war.'" He spat on the floor. "Those goddamn bastards slash and burn their way through our country twice in twenty years, and have the nerve to speak to me like that?" He clenched his fist in front of his face. "We never should have let the sons of bitches reunify!"

"My own people are having a hard time getting a hold of the EU government," Lelouch said tactfully. "Smilas keeps telling me he refuses to make deals with terrorists."

"Something isn't right with that man's head," Krustchev said with a shake of his. "How do you exercise such nonsense in your current situation?"

Lelouch wasn't sure, and it was causing him some concern. Why won't they accept my offer of help?

His own intel was reporting that the Germans were beginning to fortify the border with Poland.

It makes no sense. Why would Smilas treat us like we're the enemy? Something isn't right.

The Empire had total control over Western Europe. Imperial troops were on the march in Austria and Czechia. Even if the Euros held out in Essen, their strength would have to be diverted from the other fronts. Fortifying the Polish border made no sense either because they would necessarily have to draw troops from active combat zones to the south. It was as if they were under the delusion that they wouldn't have to protect those fronts.

Wait. Hold on.

Lelouch sat up straight.

What if they didn't have to protect the south?

Lelouch stood. "Forgive me, my friend," he said hurriedly. "I need to confirm something with my staff."

…

Office of Doctor P.L. Tahn, Emperor George III Hospital, New York City, Archduchy of New York, Holy Empire of Britannia

"I-I don't know who could have…" Euphemia hiccuped, rubbing her hand across her cheek. "R-Ruben said...he said that we would start see-ing more oppo-oppo…" She choked.

Suzaku's hands rested on her shoulder, and he rubbed circles into her back. "Take your time, Euphie. It's alright. Take your time."

She nodded in fits and starts. She pulled a tissue from the box before her.

The ISB was interviewing her in a cramped office they commandeered from one of the doctors on the floor. Reference books and baubles sat on oak bookshelves around them, and framed diplomas and certificates hung on the septic blue walls.

One agent sat across from her at the doctor's desk, while the other stood just over his shoulder. Sir Ruben stood guard in the hallway next to the closed door. Protocol dictated that Suzaku, as Rounds Knight, would stand guard over the Princess in the office itself.

She had never been more glad for protocol.

"Ruben said…" she stopped, took a deep breath. "Ruben said we wou-ld start seeing more opposition the more suc-successful we...were. There-There were protesters when we arr-arrived. We got o-off the pl-plane and the car just...the car just...just…" Her face crumpled.

"Gentlemen," Suzaku said, his tone hard, "I believe that's enough."

Euphemia shook her head. "I-I wan-t to h-h-help, I-"

"We have all the information we need, Princess," the lead interrogator said. "From now on, ISB agents will be deployed as part of your security detail. They'll be under the command of Sir Kururugi, and will coordinate with you in all matters. The safety of the Royal Family is paramount to the organization."

Euphemia nodded. She had expected that, wanted it even. Anything to prevent anyone else she loved being killed.

"Sir Kururugi, we'll send over the list of agents we plan to assign. Please look it over at your earliest convenience."

"Of course."

The agent stood and bowed. "Then if you'll excuse us."

Euphemia nodded and the two agents departed.

Ruben entered just after they left. "Your Highness?"

"Sir Ruben," Suzaku said, "get me a full list of everyone who works on your campaign at the managerial level. The ISB will be conducting their investigation, but there's nothing stopping us from doing our own."

"At once, My Lord."

Even as Ruben left, Alicia entered the room. "Princess," she said. "Are you alright? They weren't angry, were they?"

Euphemia shook her head. "No, they were perfectly cordial." She looked up at Suzaku. "Thank you."

Suzaku nodded. "Don't mention it, Euphie." He turned to Alicia. "Apologies, but I'm afraid we haven't met. Alicia Lohmeyer, correct?"

"Yes, My Lord." Alicia bowed as best she could. "Alicia Lohmeyer, at your service."

"She's a friend, Suzaku," Euphemia said. "A very close one. We'll introduce you to...to…" She scrunched her eyes shut. "Oh...oh that's right, she's...she's…"

Alicia swept her into a tight embrace. "She didn't feel it," she said, as if that would soothe her. "She never woke up. That's the best we can ask for her."

"I'm sorry, Euphie," Suzaku said gently. "Would that be the other fatality?"

Alicia nodded. "Clara Lanfranc, in charge of our volunteers. And a very, very good friend."

"I'll have to write to her family," Euphemia mumbled. "No. No. I'll see them in person. They deserve to face their daughter's killer in-"

Suzaku clamped a hand forcefully on her shoulder. Euphemia looked up at him, shocked. His green eyes were hard as steel.

"Don't even think like that, Princess," he said. "What happened was not your fault. We're going to find who killed them. Count on it."

She nodded slowly. "Alicia," she said, not breaking eye contact with Suzaku, "see to the arrangements for Sir Kururugi's accommodation. He'll be staying with us from now on."

...

Amelie Hotel And Apartments, Landau, Occupied Germany

"He's alright, isn't he?" Milly asked, phone mashed to her ear. Her voice was hoarse, eyes swollen from crying.

Milly and Rivalz were in their hotel room, a modest one bedroom number being paid for by their news network.

"A few minor injuries, your Grandpa didn't tell me much more than that," her mother replied.

"Oh, thank God!" Milly said, voice wavering. "And Her Highness?"

"Alive as well, from what he told me. Badly shaken, but alright."

Milly nodded. That's good.

Milly hadn't done any reporting on Princess Euphemia's peace initiative. Grandpa's involvement was a conflict of interest. She did support it, though; if the war went any worse, Rivalz would likely get drafted. It was a miracle he hadn't been yet.

He's mine, she thought fiercely. You can't have him for your godforsaken meat grinder!

"Milly, I want you home as soon as possible," her mother ordered. "I don't want you or my future son-in-law anywhere near the frontlines."

Milly blushed. He hasn't asked me to marry him. Yet. "Rivalz's loading up the last of the suitcases right now," she said. "I told my boss I quit just a little while ago."

It was a bitter pill to swallow. Milly prized her independence, as did Rivalz. And she loved her job. Sparring with Gerry, Kelly Pruitt, reporting on important stories, and doing it all with the man she loved was the most fun she'd ever had.

But family comes first.

"That's wonderful, Milly," her mother gushed. "I know it's hard, but this is the right decision."

Sure as Hell doesn't feel like it.

"Milly!" Rivalz called from outside. "I've got everything loaded up! You got the tickets?"

Milly covered the phone mic. "Yeah, in my pocket!" She brought the phone back up to her ear. "Mom, I gotta go. Rivalz's done packing. We should be at the airport in an hour."

"Good. Hurry home, Milly. Your father and I...I don't know what we'd do if you two got hurt."

"Love you, Mom."

"Love you, honey. I'll see you soon."

The line clicked and Milly power walked outside.

"Grandpa's fine," she told Rivalz as she slid into the passenger seat.

Rivalz pumped his fist. "Awesome! Knew the old man would make it!" He gave her a sudden panicked look. "Uh, don't tell your Granddad I called him that."

Milly tilted an eyebrow. A little smirk quirked her lips. "Now where's the fun in that?"

Milly's phone buzzed in her pocket. She slipped it out. Her eyes went wide.

Grandpa?

…

W-0 Unit Research Facility, The Underground, Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany

The research wing of the W-0 had once been headquartered in a multistory building in the heart of France, staffed with a dozen of the best neural scientists, doctors, and experts in the EU. Most of that staff was now either dead or missing, and the lone survivor of the team was confined to what had been a vehicle recharging station. All power in the area had been rerouted through a series of portable pylons that glowed faintly blue, connected with gray cables to a small workstation strewn with wires, headsets, and empty candy wrappers.

At this workstation was a bosomy young woman whose light purple hair was currently pulled into a ponytail.

"Anna," Leila asked, "whatcha got for me?"

Anna Clement was Leila's childhood friend, and the designer of the neural headsets used by the W-0 pilots. She pushed her square-rimmed glasses up over her bright green eyes. Since the Fall of France, she had taken to wearing gray combat fatigues and a pistol, and her helmet was resting on a barrel top beside her. She sat in front of a desktop computer, the screen's brightness turned down.

"Not much," she admitted. "I can craft whole new ID's for them, but all their personal information, including their faces, are in our databases. The first time their fakes get checked, it's gonna get flagged."

"Can't we just erase all their personnel logs?"

"That's above my pay grade. With the heightened cybersecurity firewalls we put up after the Net was compromised, I'm going to need at least three different passwords to get access to that information."

Leila clicked her tongue. "Do we have a backup?"

Anna nodded. "Falsified duty rosters. Create a log of activities for them to make it look like they're still doing their jobs, even if they're on the other side of the world. I can also make a ghost trail of transactions away from whatever escape route you want them to use."

"So you're saying there's a chance?"

Anna laughed. "Of course there's a chance, Leila darling," she said. Her mien became serious. "The problem is that they might get picked up and drafted by security forces off the street. From what I'm hearing, the Japanese that remain in country are being used as cannon fodder. If they don't have some kind of official protection, they'd be right back on the frontline, this time without eight tons of steel protecting them."

Leila smiled. "Then I guess that means you're up."

Anna frowned. "I'm not leaving you, Leila," she said sternly.

"Anna, they need someone to grant them official sanction to be wherever the Hell they are."

"You're their commanding officer, Leila," Anna retorted. "You're the perfect person to fulfill that role."

Leila bit her lip. "I can't. I can't abandon my brothers-in-arms."

At least a million men and women were dead, far more than that imprisoned in Imperial POW camps. Leila would not betray their sacrifice by cutting and running at this, their most desperate hour. Besides, she couldn't bear to abandon Gene. Watching her friend and mentor waste away as he struggled against the tide of history tore her heart in two. She wouldn't just abandon him now.

"Leila..."

"Yukiya is going to need you," Leila said. "He won't leave without you. And if he stays, so will Ryo and Ayano."

Anna arched an eyebrow. "And what about Akito? You know he won't abandon you."

Leila smiled bitterly. "Considering his current state, he doesn't have a choice." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Have you heard anything about Claus?"

Claus Warwick was Leila's aide-de-camp, and a friend. A boozing alcoholic and family man, he had disappeared during the chaos of the Fall of France. Leila had been trying to find him ever since.

Anna shook her head. "Nothing," she replied sadly. "Nothing on his wife or child, either."

Leila fought down the surge of sadness. She bit her lip. Turning her back, she said, "Get me those fakes, Anna. I'm sick of losing friends to this damn war."

…..

After Leila left, Anna called out, "You can come out now."

Ryo, Yukiya, and Ayano crawled out from behind the pylons.

Yukiya approached Anna, leaned over her, setting his hands on either arm of her chair. "I had no idea you were such an accomplished actress," he said, grin wolfish. "What a Hell of a turn on."

He closed the distance, and, to Ryo's disgust, the two of them began kissing furiously.

"Jesus Christ," Ryo grumbled. "Get a room, you two, this is disgusting."

When Yukiya pulled away, Anna said breathlessly, "Y-You say something Ryo?" Her face was beet red.

"Ignore him. He's just jealous," Yukiya said.

Ayano threw her hands up. "For the love of-Anyway!" She sidled up to Anna. "What do you figure it'll take to grab Leila? Not just Akito, I'm not leaving her either."

Anna wiped the bottom of her lip. "Chloroform and duck tape," she said. At Ayano's dubious look, she said, "I'm being totally serious. Leila's not going to abandon the Supreme Commander no matter what."

"You'd still need those passwords though, right?" Ryo asked.

"Nah," Yukiya said with a wave of his hand. "Anna was bullshitting. Getting that's easy. Most of these idiots just have 'password' as their password. Wiping our logs isn't the tricky part. Getting Leila onboard is."

"Like I said, chloroform," Anna repeated. "I know someone I can get some sleep medicine from. We spike her drink, load her into a truck, then use the subway tunnels to make our escape."

"And then hope we can evacuate across the Polish border," Ryo said.

Japanese and European evacuees were all heading to the border with Poland to ask for asylum. With Zero in Russia, the word was out that the Black Knights would be marching on the West.

"I don't like drugging Leila," Ayano insisted. "Outside of the fact that she's our friend, it also just practically makes it damn difficult if some security dick checks our truck."

Anna sighed. "Look, I don't like it any better than you do, but we don't have many options. You guys have a week, tops, before the operation starts. If you can convince her to flee in that time, by all means. But we'll be cutting it really close to the wire."

Ryo crossed his arms. "You do what you gotta do," he said. "So will we."

…

Conference Room, The Palace At Versailles, Unincorporated Area Twenty-Six

"I've just received word from our Balkan allies," Duke Calares, Minister of War, said. The imposing mustachioed redhead splayed a pile of white copy reports on the conference table before him. "Russian troops are forming up on the EU's eastern borders. Aerial photography shows the Ukrainian border guards are beginning to let them through. Accordingly, our allies have halted their offensive and are beginning to dig in. They expect an enemy offensive within the coming weeks."

There was grumbling around the table, muffled curses and audible groans. The conference room was cramped, choked with cigarette smoke and the stench of stale coffee. Baggy-eyed aides moved in and out at regular intervals to refill drinks, remove plates, and clean any detritus left by the assembled worthies.

"This throws our entire Essen operation into doubt," Grand Duke Augusta Henry Highland said. The ruler of Euro Britannia looked impeccable as ever, his dark gray hair swept into a boyish curl, his uniform stainless. Only the gray shadows beneath his blue eyes betrayed the fact he'd been awake for the last fifty hours. "The entire operation was premised on forcing the EU to negotiate a surrender. Zero marching reinforcements by the millions from the East will only encourage the EU to hold on for a little longer."

"There is no guarantee the EU will come to terms with Zero," Kanon Maldini spoke for the first time. The personal aide of His Highness, Prime Minister Prince Schneizel el Britannia, stood at crisp attention behind the empty seat that was supposed to be holding his royal master. The assassination attempt on Princess Euphemia had called him elsewhere, leaving Kanon as his representative on the council. His hands clasped firmly behind his back, the blue-eyed young man peered at the council from behind bangs of gold hair shaded pink, his green-white uniform sharp. "Even at the height of the Reclamation, Secretary General Smilas refused the aid of Zero and his Russian backers."

"That was before the Greater Eurasian Pact," Calares retorted. "Before Zero started importing tens of thousands of Chinese into Area Eleven with enough Russian digging equipment to have Mount Fuji restored within the next month. Before this goddamn conference out of Saint Petersburg!" He smashed his fist onto the table.

"We are running out of time to work with," said Duke Polliver, Minister of the Interior. The balding man had taken on at least thirty pounds in the last six months, and his eyes were red and watery. "I am running through every rationing program I can think of to make our Sakuradite stockpiles last even a day longer, but it is running too tight. We cannot fight a multi-continent war, and put down the rebellions in South America, and provide enough resources for domestic consumption."

Duke Merrick, Minister of Business, Industry, and Innovation, nodded his agreement. He brushed breadcrumbs from his sliver mustache. "Our energy demands have skyrocketed since the loss of Area Eleven, and so have their costs. The cost of energy is tied to every single industry, and so the cost of goods and services that aren't even related to the war have gone up exponentially. Bread costs four times as much as it did before the Black Rebellion, butter three times, and so on and on. The Britannian people will not be able to bear the burden of higher taxes and inflation for very much longer. If we do not find some way of ending this war, our entire economy will collapse."

Left unsaid, but included in their reports, was the worker's strikes that were beginning in the homeland. Literature from the Cornelia li Britannia Peace Conference had been found in the possession of the strikers.

But it would be uncouth to blame Princess Euphemia for our woes when she's nearly been assassinated.

"Area Eleven is the key to all of this," Kanon reminded them. "And everyone here is already aware of the plans His Majesty has put into motion to bring the Elevens back into the fold."

"Earl Maldini, with respect," Highland said, "we're not even certain we'll make it to Area Eleven."

An aide stepped into the room before Kanon could reply. "Announcing His Highness, the Prime Minister of the Holy Britannian Empire, Prince Schneizel el Britannia!"

Everyone around the table stood as Prince Schneizel entered the room. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed Prince swept in, white cape trailing behind him. "Please, be seated," he said. "Don't stand on my account. We have much to discuss, and not enough time for it. I pray you'll forgive my absence."

"Of course, Your Highness," Kanon said, bowing his head. "Even in matters of state, family must come first."

"Indeed," said Calares. "Please know that my wife and I, and our daughters as well, are praying for the swift recovery of Her Highness."

"My family stands ready to render any aid it can," Duke Merrcik added.

"I have several Knights within my ranks that stand ready to protect Her Highness at your word," said Highland.

Schneizel raised his hand. "Thank you. Thank you. You are all too kind, and I am grateful for your efforts. The situation is well in hand."

Kanon's stomach twisted. Though His Highness projected calm, and though his appearance was as immaculate as ever, Kanon had been close to him for years; since their school years, in fact. He could see the slight tremble of His Highness' hand, the wary glint in his eye, the most minute quaver of his strong voice.

"Princess Euphemia will be brought to Europe," Schneizel said, "under the protection of Sir Kururugi, Knight of Seven. I just transmitted the order. No harm will befall her in his charge."

The Ministers shuddered.

"An Eleven as Her Highness' protector?" Calares said. "Are you certain that's wise?"

"Sir Kururugi and my sister were close friends during her time as Sub-Viceroy of Area Eleven," Schneizel said. "I know of very few that I would trust more wholly with her life."

That's an understatement, Kanon thought. The romance between the Princess and the Eleven had been a scandal Cornelia had been trying to keep under wraps to her dying day. Only His Highness' own efforts behind the scenes had prevented an explosion that would have tarnished Her Highness' reputation.

There were knowing looks on the Ministers' faces. Despite his efforts, it seemed they knew, though they said nothing.

"With that said, my sister's safety is not the reason for my absence." Schneizel clasped his hands together on the table. "His Majesty has decided on our response to the establishment of the Greater Eurasian Pact and the this so-called 'Co-Prosperity Sphere'." He paused, gazed over the assembly. "The operation into Essen has been canceled, and I have been assigned the task of negotiating an armistice with the EU."