The call cut off. Morales put down the receiver and looked out the porthole at the burning coastline. The oil tanks at Haifa Port had been hit; black smoke was rising, covering half the sky. The civilian ships in the port were trying to get out but couldn't; the Turkish Fleet blocked the exit, the crew on those ships holding white flags, standing by the rail, waiting.
"General, a call from the Leader."
Morales took the handset. On the other end it was Victor's voice, very calm. "General Morales."
"Leader."
"The Turks have pushed into Haifa Port."
"Yes. Two destroyers, three frigates. The Israelis' Navy can't hold them. The civilian ships in the port can't get out, the civilians are waiting."
Victor was silent for three seconds. "General Morales, are you afraid of fighting a war?"
Morales fell silent too. "Leader, I'm not afraid. What I'm afraid of is, once we fight, I won't be able to go home."
