As I stared out of the window, I saw the smoke clear away. The houses rebuilt themselves, the roads were repaved, the trees stood up, and the motion returned to the neighborhood. I closed my eyes for an instant.
"General Williams...General Williams...your wife is on line two...she wants to know where you were last night."
"What?" I asked, "Where am I? What day is it?"
"General, it's eight hundred hours on 17 April 1999. You must have fallen asleep on your desk last night," said Sergeant Pikes.
"But the bombs...the cities...my wife...my son..." I responded, stuttering nervously.
"General, perhaps you should take a vacation," chuckled Pikes.
Just then, a short, stubby-looking woman ran into the office. The ranks on her shoulders showed that she was not one to fool with, yet the expression on her face was like that of Death itself.
"General...come quickly...we just picked up over six dozen bogies from New York to Los Angeles....there is no way that we could send out an aerial defense strike," she said.
I felt sick to my stomach and found myself rushing back to my office. Just as I sat down, I heard the twisting and exploding of metal all around. I had woken up just in time to live it again.