The map of Texas hanging on the wall was once circled with strategic points by Paul Stuart in red pen, but now it's covered with a dense array of blue pins by the staff, marking the advancing front of the Mexican Army, like a swarm of greedy termites gnawing at Texas land from the southern border.
"Corpus Christi Port...completely destroyed."
The voice of the communications officer trembled, clutching a report pieced together from intermittent radio signals, the edges of the paper soaked and wrinkled by sweat,
"Dock facilities, oil storage areas, maritime patrol boats...and three F-16s at the airport, bombed to scrap before they could take flight, the Mexican B-1B is still bombing, their aircraft...as if in their own backyard."
Paul abruptly looked up and stumbled to the map, pressing heavily on the location of Corpus Christi, where the blue pins were already spreading inland beyond the port.
"What about Laredo? What about Brownsville?"
