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Airman Lisle had only glanced at the monitor feed from the cameras before she nearly dropped the coffee mug that she had been about to drink from. A loud groan escaped from her lips as she stared at the image, almost willing it to go away. However, it clearly stayed there, and she got to wondering why the kooks could never manage to actually show some skill in what they would try to do.

"Maybe they wouldn't be nut jobs if they knew what they were doing," she muttered.

"Something the matter, Airman?" asked Staff Sergeant Dixon as he leaned in towards her desk.

"Technically, yes, sir," she admitted as she waved a hand at her monitor. "We've got someone trying for a clearly unauthorized entry onto the facilities, but...."

"He's clearly a moron."

"Pretty much. I mean, I know that we're working more with the other nations, but they don't just stroll onto bases like they've been passing by."

"More than that," the sergeant put in.

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"My grandfather was a pilot in China during the Depression. His stories made me want to join the Air Force. Now, I might not be flying, but I do know my history."

"And...." she began.

"That's an old Kuomintang uniform. Taiwan hasn't used those things for ages. Hell, the only reason that I even know what they look like so easily is that I can remember them from the old man's pictures of the 'Flying Tigers'."

"So, we're talking...."

"At least as old as World War II."

Lisle snorted at the though and idly considered passing it off to someone else.

For his part, Mousse trundled on, certain that the fact that the uniform that he was wearing was from an allied army would at least get him through the gates,

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