“General Dixon,” Poulengy finally stated as soon as he had managed to find his voice, “could I have a word with you in private?”

While everyone else in the room jumped to their feet and came to a rigid position of attention, Scott escorted the Chief of Staff of the Army to his office. When the door was closed and guarded by two nervous aide-de-camps, Scott and Poulengy took seats at opposite ends of the long leather sofa.

“Scott,” Poulengy started as he rubbed his two hands together, “I’ve heard enough. Your plan is, as expected, sound.”

“Then I’ll get the HETTs,” Scott asked quickly.

Poulengy looked down at his hands. “Yes, of course. In fact,” he added, “when you gave me the heads up this morning about that I had my staff get on it. If things work the way I expect, some of the HETT units will be rolling your way by late this afternoon.”

If this had been the only thing the Chief of Staff wanted to say he would not have not asked for privacy. Knowing his old boss better than most, Scott took the initiative. “You must appreciate, sir, that there isn’t a man on my staff who does not understand the gravity of the situation which we face or the risks we will be running.”

Looking up from his firmly clasped hands, Poulengy sighed. “It’s not your staff I’m worried about. I suspect there isn’t a man or woman in there that doesn’t have less than ten years under his belt. For them and us it’s the Army, first, foremost, and always.”

“It’s the soldiers you’re concerned with, isn’t it?”

Poulengy nodded as he sat upright, then stood. Pacing, he tried to explain. “The bulk of your enlisted men and women are in the ranks for any number of reasons, few of which have anything to do with a deep, burning devotion to patriotism. That’s not to say,” the Chief of Staff stopped midstride and faced Scott, “that they’re not good soldiers. God knows they’re some of the best I’ve ever seen. But,” he continued as he picked up his pacing where he had left off, “the majority of them are still tied to their homes, their families, and their communities in a way old timers like you and me aren’t.”

Reclining, Scott took up the thread that Poulengy was slowly playing out. “You’re concerned that when my people come eyeball to eyeball with the governor of Idaho’s people, some of the lads will flinch.”