The Lotus Eaters

Estado Major, Ciudad Balboa, Balboa, Terra Nova

As reports rushed in—a bombing in Cristobal, another two in Ciudad Balboa, a fifth in Ciudad Cervantes to the east—Fernandez gently held a framed portrait of his daughter, his only child, killed years before by a terrorist's bomb.

What a terrible world we live in, child. I would have thought—though I should not have thought it—that those days were past. Silly me.

The reports of casualties were fragmentary, at best. Even so, there were well over a hundred known dead, and possibly as many as twice that. Of wounded there may have been a thousand. Among the dead were half a dozen elderly tourists from the Federated States, killed while dining at a small and quaint restaurant overlooking the sea. This, of course, had the Federated States enraged.

Fernandez placed the portrait back down on his desk, then stood. His normally ferret-like face twisted into a hate-filled sneer. "Revenge," he said aloud, then repeated, "Revenge."