<P>His friends, his colleagues, all sat silently, probably in shock. Dom could see all of them staring that way, all of them not believing it, either... some of them wore their masks, not wanting to display anything they might be feeling. Closing themselves off. Denial. Welcome to denial. Next stop, heartbreaking reality.
<P>
<P>Everything Dominic Bishop ever hoped for, everything he ever tried to make a difference for - all of it. Gone. The NSF was in shambles. In complete breakdown. The one man that killed most of them just died after finally seeing their side of the story and committing himself to it. They lost the shipment of ambrosia, most of their men, supplies...
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<P>Any leadership they had. Paul and JC were the only hope the NSF ever had at that point, and now they were both dead.
<P>
<P>Completely erased from the picture, a decaying band of soldiers left in their wake.
<P>
<P>It was a complete and total mess. Nobody was in charge now. Commanders had been killed or captured, too. There was absolutely nothing they could hope to do.
<P>
<P>Dominic couldn't keep up with all of it in his tired state of mind, couldn't contemplate it now. All he could do was accept it. "Jesus." He massaged his forehead with his hand, glancing around at all the other troops in the room. Some of them stared at him. He realized he had been standing there, staring thoughtfully.
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<P>"What do we do?" one of them broke out with a shaken voice. "What the hell do we do?"
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<P>Dom sighed, not knowing how to answer that question. "What can we do?"
<P>
<P>Silence.
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<P>This is what their cause had degraded to. Cowering in some abandoned warehouse division like you see in the movies. They really did look like terrorists to most of the world, and that just killed him. They weren't the bad guys. Someone had to pick up the pieces. There had to be some command out there, someone left who knew how to clean up this mess. Maybe it was him, hell, he didn't know.