General Davies raised his binoculars up high just in time to see the coordinated explosions lighting up even further the afternoon sky. The cloud of grey smoke that swept through the capital provided a moment of respite from the ongoing carnage and even a glimmer of hope the like the soldiers in the front lines hadn't experienced in ages. It was all for naught though for the dreadful iridescent energy beams of the Voltraxian ships didn't stay silent for long, the characteristic mechanical sound before the blast travelling faster than the tired legs and arms of humans too tired to run away. At the age of seventy, the General believed he had seen everything there was to see, yet the sheer magnitude of the alien invaders weaponry proved him wrong at every turn. He sighed and wiped a lonely tear from the corner of his left eye.
"Sir," Major Harrison announced in his usual monochord tone. "I regret to inform that Operation Fire Wall has failed."
"I can see that, I'm not blind yet!" the General replied, driven by anger and frustration, two feelings he should do his best to keep hidden. He regretted his rudeness right away. Davies was just another good man doing his job, and they had lost far too many already. He did not deserve to see the chain of command he had put so much faith in falter before his weary eyes. "Please forgive me," he said. "I didn't mean..."
"No need to say anything, sir. This war drives us mad, sometimes."
"Yes, it does. All wars do but this one is worse."
"We cannot stop them, right?"
"Not by brute force, it seems. Their technology surpasses ours by a long shot but there may still be a way to come out victorious."
"Really?"
"Yes. Fire Wall was always a risk which is why I asked the Pentagon to consider implementing Plan H as well and they agreed to it."
"Plan H? But that's..."
"... desperate, yes, yet desperate times require desperate measures. I've already sent for Miss Reynolds. She should be here, soon."
"I'm already here," Phoebe Reynolds declared, her silky tones drowning the two men's conversation. Both the General and the Major hesitated before turning to meet her gaze.
The thirty-one-year-old red-haired and blue-eyed Hypnodomme was dressed in white from head to toe, a virginal attire that had little to do with how she made a living, turning wet dreams into mindless servitude. Perhaps that was the reason she had chosen that color, to highlight the contrast between her appearance and the libidinous storms she could unleash.
"No reason to be embarrassed, gentlemen," she giggled. "Whatever you're trying to hide, please remember I've seen and heard it all, before."