Ilaria turned away. "Paradise. The Iron Hand. One religion and one language and all that. Utterly cock-sure. But ... we were wrong. They've been getting ready. Training and planning. Collecting men and arms. They began even before the empire was established."--Jay noticed he said empire rather than republic--"All this time they've been preparing and planning and ... waiting." Jay was dumbfounded. "How big is it?" Kevin Ilaria spread his hands. "Big enough. Their attack seems to have been simultaneous all over the world. Something like commando or guerrilla tactics. Quick, quiet attacks on a small scale." He told Jay about the Tel Aviv incident and about Captain Spagnoletti and a half-track disappearing in the rubble in the Washington area and about intercontinental communication being shut off. "Bomb 'em out," Jay said, without thinking. "You don't bomb out fifth columnists, Jay. "Last night they captured London and Tokyo and two-thirds of New York and they captured Lollabrigida airbase in Madrid. They're wearing PR uniforms and some kind of new uniform they've dreamed up. Most of them aren't even uniformed. It's a hell of a mess." "How long do you think it'll take to quell the thing?" "I have no idea. I'm to take command at Standiford Field. Rinaldi solved the saboteur problem ... it was Colonel Di Orio. Rinaldi and some of his boys caught the Colonel and a few of _his_ men in the Radio Room on the special 'Liberacione' wave length." "In irons?" Jay wanted to know. "No. They put up a fight. They were killed." "You're flying?" "Doubt it. I'll be one of those behind-the-scenes men. Supposed to be valuable. Only in a mess like this you can't tell what's behind the scenes and what's front line. They're liable to start on Louisville next." Ilaria hitched self-consciously at his gun-belt. He twisted his helmet around a couple of times before he set it gingerly on his head. He turned and opened the door and went out. His head came back in and said: "I'm not sure it's the sort of thing you quell, Jay." "Kevin! Wait! What'm I supposed to--" He was gone. Jay thought only a moment. Then he switched on the phone. At least intercom systems were still in operation. The clerk at the desk upstairs looked at him from the screen. "This is the Man From 1954," Jay said, using the name by which everyone called him. "Stop Tribune Ilaria as he goes out." In an instant Kevin's head appeared. "I'll go with you. Shall I get my uniform before we go to Standiford or after?" Ilaria grinned. "After," he said. "Grab the elevator and come on up."