Three weeks later Samuel stood in an airfield adjusting his parachute, Montague beside him. "Remember," Montague repeated for the twentieth time, "the unit's power supply will only last for three hours at full power. Then the generator will fail and the batteries will kick in. Then the field will steadily shrink for a half hour 'til it's gone. You'll be on your own, no aircraft wil lbe able to operate inside the fields. In the name of The Lords, make sure your transport planes are out of range before the fields are activated."
"Don't worry!" Samuel assured, "It's all been timed perfectly. We'll be dropped, the devices will be dropped. They'll hit the ground and activate just before we do. The helicopters dropping the others will be on the ground when the effect hits. We know what we're doing! You've done your part, now let us do ours."
"You don't know what it's like," Montague answered, "having to lie here helpless while others do the fighting."
Samuel touched his shoulder. "You gave us the means to fight with," he answered, "you gave us the opportunity to win the victory. Without your skill this war could've dragged on for years longer. And maybe their scientists would have found something, something like what the people in Fortress Manhattan found. The quicker we stop them the better! What you've done will make that possible. I've got to go! Timing is everything."
"Let The Lords be with you!" Montague answered, as Samuel rushed off.
Their timing was absolutely perfect except for one slight mistake. Five helicopters were still landing with the device activated. Their passengers got a rather rough sit down, but they all walked away.
Samuel's troops had no difficulty whatever. As they were approaching their landing zones the enemy's anti aircraft fire suddenly ceased. They landed without opposition as the enemy's tanks and machine guns became useless. They split into two groups. Samuel's party took up position to block the exits from the Imperial Palace while the second group began to blast their way in from all directions.
The secret service had done a superb job! They had detailed maps of the entire palace, knew every passage as well as the enemy did, but still it took time.
Samuel's forces received light attacks from the flanks twice, but almost three and three quarter hours passed before what they were waiting for began to happen. Troops of The Imperial Guard began to pour out of the palace, and form ranks.
They quickly charged Samuel's forces, but Samuel's men had practiced how to best use their weapons. They formed three ranks, the first rank knelt, the second rank stood, the third rank was at the ready, their conventional rifles fixed with bayonets.
As the Imperial troops charged, the first two ranks fired in volleys, alternately, emptying their clips. Then the third rank rushed forward meeting others that had survived the hail of fire, giving their comrades time to retrieve their conventional rifles, and join the line.
Three times the Imperials charged, three times they were driven back. Samuel's troops grew short of bolts and had to retrieve what they could find from the enemy's dead and clean them. Samuel checked his watch. The manual one still wasn't running but the digital one told him three hours and twenty-five minutes had passed.
The effect would be dying at any moment. His men readied machine guns. For a fourth time the Imperial Troops charged, for a fourth time they were driven back. Samuel again looked at his watch. The mechanical was running exactly three-and-a-half hours behind the digital.
The Imperial troops were firing up again. "White flag!" Samuel ordered.
Someone quickly handed him one. He stepped before his lines and waved the flag, went a little bit further, and waved it again. An Imperial guard finally came forward. "What?" he screamed.
"A word with your emperor," Samuel answered.
A man emerged from the tunnel's mouth and approached. "What?" he cried.
"Emperor Constantine," Samuel began, "The Republic has no quarrel with you. You have fought us honorably unlike your predecessor under your leadership. The empire has gained our respect. Let its last hours be just as respectful. We do not want to kill any more of your sons and daughters. We want time to properly treat the wounds of those that still live. In the name of The Prince Of Peace who you hold sacred, lay down your arms. Let it be over."
The young emperor stared at him, his face heavy with thought. Then he looked slowly around him, nodded, drew his pistol, and stepped forward. One of his young soldiers, a woman, cut him off.
"Please, Our Emperor!" she cried, "We will fight to the death for you, for God."
"I know," the emperor answered. "that is precisely why it must end. Step aside!"
The soldier bowed. The emperor turned his pistol butt first, in his left hand and held it out to Samuel. "Your prisoner, sir!" he snapped. To those around him he ordered "Lay down your arms! It is over! It is done! Perhaps some of us will be allowed to join our comrades in South America. But Europe is no longer God's."
Most of the troops laid down their weapons. One man came forward, his bayonet pointing at Samuel menacingly. The Emperor turned to him.
"Will you disobey my last command?" he asked. "Will you end it with trechery? He is under a flag of truce. Will The Empire die without honor?"
The man gave a shriek and drove his bayonet into the ground, then walked off, sobbing heavily.

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