The clock in the presidential office ticked so loudly that Marta wondered if it would shatter.
She stood near the window, watching the rain trace erratic paths down the glass.
Behind her, voices overlapped, arguments rising and falling.
It was past midnight, but the Cabinet had not left for hours.
Krejčí was the first to speak, as always.
"Without clear orders, my men will do nothing. You know this, Mr. President. They're loyal, but they're not mind readers. We cannot have battalions marching east while Berlin watches for any excuse to call us the aggressors."
Beneš rubbed his temples. "Mobilization means war. Not just here. Everywhere."
"War is coming whether we stand or kneel," Černý said, almost shouting. "The lines are cut, the Sudetenland is lost, and every officer under my command is begging for instruction."
