A platoon leader, on the other hand, has all the same requirements when it comes to making a decision yet none of the advantages. This was especially true for Nathan Dixon as he watched the Guard Bradleys roving about the open range to the west. Nothing, save for what his platoon did next, was truly within his control. He had no idea where the rest of A Company was or what they were doing. Though he could see combat vehicles moving about, he could only guess at what their intentions were. For all he knew some sort of agreement had been reached between the folks in Washington and the errant governor of Idaho. Anything, at this point, could be possible.

About the only thing Nathan was sure of was the condition of his platoon. They were now into their second day of almost continuous activity and motion. During that period of preparation, marshaling, forward deployment, and insertion, few in his platoon had managed to catch anything resembling a worthwhile nap. Looking about, Nathan could clearly see that his men were starting to suffer from the loss of sleep and stress. Added to that was the peril they faced and a future that was as unclear as it was ominous. The young platoon leader could almost read the unspoken question that their expressions betrayed: “What next?”

Yeah, Nathan asked himself. What next? Slowly, the young officer stood erect. After being scrunched up in a foxhole all day it felt good to stretch out. Looking off to the west he caught sight of the three Guard Bradleys he had been watching. Farther off to the northwest he saw other clouds of dust being thrown up by heavy vehicles in motion. There was a lot of heavy traffic over there, all of which he had to assume was unfriendly. Twisting his body about, he looked off to the east and then northeast.

The contrast between the flat, open land to the west and what he saw in the opposite direction could not have been any starker. His eyes were drawn to the bright, colorful lights of a cluster of factory outlet stores not far from where he stood. He was close enough to see cars and figures moving about. Beyond that was Interstate 84 and a scattering of homes where people, not unlike the families of his paratroopers, were settling down to dinner or to watch the latest news story concerning events that had unfolded in their backyards.