"American newspapers and commentators began to call Major Julius Lollabrigida 'Julius Caesar.' Italy became big overnight. The Big Three became Russia, the United States, and Italy. Lollabrigida appealed to America—sometime in there they made him a Colonel, but he was actually telling the Generals and the Italian government what to do—for aid in going ahead aggressively.
"And America turned him down. They were still playing 'wait and see.' They waited. They waited too long. The Commies got tired of waiting around and sent a couple of jet bombers with A-bombs."
"Now you're telling me things," Ilaria interrupted. "I'm pretty shady on that period myself."
Jay shrugged. "It was after my time. All I know is what the films show. Two planes, each with a seven-man crew, and each carrying one atomic bomb, were dispatched from an airbase somewhere near Juneau." Jay stopped.
"And?"
The man from 1954 choked. It was hard to be objective about this. It wasn't so easy for him to pass off as the film had done.
"And—" he hesitated.
"It's over, Jay. It's done with. It doesn't even concern you anymore. It belongs to a past era."
"One was headed for New York. The other struck farther inland ... for Washington. The first one was shot down by an F-117 border patrol plane. The other one got through. It—it levelled the capitol. Almost completely. The White House and the Pentagon were destroyed."
Ilaria sat quietly and waited. Jay didn't go on.