Burke paled. He swallowed and composed himself. “Sir, I said the man is mad and a criminal and I stand by that, which means he is impossible to predict logically. Among other things, he is paranoid, and yes, he might just see it as a power grab on our part. As to how he might react, good God, sir, the man is normally very patient and calculating, but, on rare occasions, has appeared to act irrationally. What will he do? I have no idea.”

“Guess,” Marshall said firmly.

Burke took a deep breath and thought, what the hell. “He’s a bully and if confronted could easily back down and wait for an opportunity to try again. I rather think that would make everyone happy.” Marshall did not respond, but seemed to nod almost imperceptibly. “If he doesn’t back down, he could use his massive army to swat our force like flies.”

“Which, Colonel?” Marshall insisted. “I want your opinion.”

Burke tried not to stammer. “He operates from a position of strength. He cannot afford to show weakness. I think he’ll use force to expel us from Berlin. God help those poor soldiers.”

Marshall rose and did not appear to notice it when a thoroughly stunned Burke remained seated. “Colonel, thank you for your help. You will be driven back to your apartment. Be in my office at eight in the morning.”

“Berlin,” whooped PFC Tommy Crawford, a gangly kid from Georgia. “We goin’ to Berlin!”

Sitting on the ground, Sergeant Jack Logan could only shake his head in wonderment. Where the hell did some of the kids think they were going? To the circus? Crawford was a scarcely literate nineteen-year-old from some squalid little place south of Atlanta and, until a few months ago, had never been more then ten miles from his home. Now he had been to New York, London, Paris, and maybe was on his way to Berlin on his government-paid world tour. Logan still didn’t think Crawford realized all these cities were in Europe. Maybe he didn’t realize what Europe was?