Pantheocide

Chapter Sixty One

Washington DC Air Defense Interception Zone Command Center, Andrews Air Force Base, Washington DC, United States

In another city in the United States, the sudden wailing of an alert siren caused the staff to make a panic-stricken transition from the sleepy ambiance of an over-heated room at 3 am to the urgent activity of an operations center that faced an imminent, city-destroying threat. Nobody had forgotten the sights as the western side of Manhattan had been pounded by rocks falling from a portal in the sky. Nobody wanted to see the same thing happening in Washington.

“The DIMO(N) net is picking up data from the cell phone system now. We’re getting increasing numbers of towers dropping off the network.” Sergeant Manuel Oporto made the report in crystal clear English. At a very basic level, it was a sign of just how uncoordinated the US government was that he had been drafted by the United States Air Force and promoted several times without anybody seemingly being aware that he was actually an illegal immigrant. “The spectrum analyzer is showing a broadband hump peaking in the low gigahertz. The data is partial at this time but it’s filling in fast. I’m going to call it Sir. We have a portal forming over Bethesda, Maryland. Confidence is high, say again, confidence is high for portal opening over Bethesda, Maryland.”

Even through the thick walls of the command center, the sirens wailing outside could be heard. Yet even they were drowned out by the howl of F-22s firing up their engines and moving to take off. Oporto could envisage the scene in Washington itself, with the air raid sirens screaming, the street lights flashing and, something that had been absent from the attack on New York, Marine-One landing at the White House to evacuate the President and his family. The war-room under the White House had been designed to stay functional during a nuclear exchange but nobody was confident of its ability to do so when hit by a rock of effectively unlimited size.

Across the readiness board that dominated the control center, lights were flickering, changing in color as the units they represented came on line. The entire room vibrated as the first of the ready-alert F-22s took off directly over the building, their engines on full afterburner as they clawed for altitude and swung north. Washington was lucky, the stealthy composite structure of the early F-22s made them unsuitable for use in Hell so they had never been fitted with the filters that allowed them to fly in the dust-laden atmosphere of Hell at major cost to their performance. These F-22s went supersonic within seconds of leaving the runway. Around the Beltway, missile batteries and anti-angel guns were coming to full alert as well. Soon, the command center would be swamped with target discrimination work as they tried to distinguish hostile targets from the defensive assets that were pouring into the area.

“Philadelphia and Richmond are on line Sir.” Oporto’s headset was constantly buzzing with updates. A part of his job was to filter out the routine data so that his officer knew what was happening without getting swamped by detail. In Oporto’s private opinion, it didn’t take much to swamp an officer with details. “They confirm a portal forming over Maryland. They’re ready to transfer assets to us if we need them.”

“Very good.” Major Coyote was watching the map display carefully, seeing the red carat defining the area of the newly-developing portal. “Data consistency?”

“The cell-phone system error rates and signal strengths still climbing Sir. We expect ingress any second. Hold that Sir, we have the portal, it’s a little south of Bethesda.” He hesitated slightly as the final data came in. “It’s just a touch west of the I-270/Old Georgetown Road interchange. It’s frozen in place, not moving the way the New York one did.”

“F-22s on scene. They report the portal, no ingress. No rocks.”

“Hold that one Sir, we have radar contact. Single object is transitting the portal. We have an inbound.”

“Well done Sergeant. Send the data to all missiles and gun batteries, prepare to open fire.”

F-22 Lightning “Oscar-One”, Over Bethesda, Maryland.

“We have portal in view.” Captain Joshua Slocombe racked his F-22 around in a tight curve. He guessed that the glaziers would be doing good business tomorrow, replacing all the windows that were being shattered by the passage of the four fighters in Oscar Flight. Out of consideration for the householders below and to try and keep an open firing solution on the portal that hovered a few hundred feet in the air over I-270, he dropped speed to well below transonic. “This is a weird one people, it’s very low down. Rocks won’t pick up that much speed when they come through.”

“Topaz Control here. We have word of an ingress.” The message from ground control was disrupted by the strange electronic effects caused by the close proximity of a portal but they were still clear and decisive.

“Roger that. Selecting AIM-120 now.” If angels came through, Slocombe wanted to be sure he could start getting hits early. That meant missiles, he could shift to the AIR-120 later. “Confirm that Topaz, we have visual on ingress. Ready for missile shot. Fox-… Hold that Topaz, there is something wrong here.”

Slocombe looked carefully at the figure that had just come through the portal. Despite being clearly an angel, and thus a perfectly legitimate target, it was falling through the sky under the portal, frantically beating its wings in an effort to brake its descent. And, it was malformed somehow. It was the wrong shape, it wasn’t the perfect humanoid that had marked the other angels that had afflicted Earth. As he analyzed the shape in front of him, it suddenly snapped into focus. “Topaz, figure is two angels, one appears to be carrying the other and attempting to fly for them both. Am holding fire.”

“Acknowledged Oscar-One.” There was a pause on the radio. “Sensors indicate portal is closing.”

Slocombe took his attention off the falling angels for a second. “Confirm that Topaz. Portal is closed. Say again, portal is closed. Whatever we just got is all that there is.”

The F-22 climbed a little as Slocombe completed another circuit. “Topaz, hostiles just landed on I-270, almost on top of Old Georgetown Road interchange. Confirm, two angels, one laying on road, other standing. Request instructions. Over.”

There was a long, long pause on the radio channels while Slocombe imagined messages running up and down the command chain. Eventually, the radio broke silence. “Oscar flight is to remain circling area. Ground forces closing in to assess situation. For your information, alert is being cancelled.”

Police Cruiser Adam One-Two, I-270, Bethesda.

One of the small advantages of gasoline rationing was that the roads were clear and people who wanted to drive at high speeds could do so. The previous night, Officer Peter Malloy had been in a high-speed pursuit of a Corvette whose owner had obviously decided to blow his month’s fuel ration on a really fast run. The race had topped 170mph before the ‘Vette had gotten clean away. In the secrecy of his soul, Malloy was looking forward to a rematch. In the meantime, this race along I-270 would have to do. “What’s going on?”

Beside him. Jim Reed was listening to the scanner. “Two angels down just ahead of us. They’re not doing anything, just standing on the Interstate. Well, one of them is standing, the other is laying down. Army and Marine ground forces are moving in but we’re way ahead of them. Nobody seems to realize we’re here yet.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way. If we can bring them in alive…” Malloy’s eyes were sparkling with delight at the prospect.

“Or get killed in the attempt?” Of the two, Reed was the more realistic. Or pessimistic depending on how one looked at such things.

“So? We go to Hell. You think they don’t need cops in Hell?” Malloy hit the brakes on the Crown Vic cruiser. “OK, we’re there. Get ready.”

He reached under his seat and pulled out one of his most loved possessions, a Pfeifer-Zeliska. 600 Nitro Express Magnum revolver. Malloy was a cop partly because he liked it and partly because it had annoyed his parents who believed that their money should insulate their only child from such mundane lifestyles. When they had finally died in an auto wreck, he had become a very wealthy cop and had invested USD17,000 in an example of what was truly the most powerful handgun ever made. ‘Malloy’s Cannon’ was a legend in his local police station and had caused him to be at the top of the “must call” list if there had been a Baldrick berserker raid. Sadly, in Malloy’s eyes at least, the opportunity to fire the piece had never emerged.

“Do you want a hand carrying that thing?” Reed’s question was a mixture of envy and genuine curiosity. A handgun that weighed just under 14 pounds was quite a load after all. And it made his. 500 Smith and Wesson look positively feeble.

“Just watch those two.” Malloy walked up to where the two angels were stretched across one of the Interstate 270 carriageways. For a moment, he was stopped by the sheer beauty of the one who was standing. Then his training kicked back in “Freeze, you are under arrest.”

I-270/Old Georgetown Road interchange, Bethesda, Maryland

Lemuel-Lan looked at the two humans in blue walking towards him. They’d emerged from a car that had strange red-and-blue flashing lights on its roof, lights that reminded Lemuel of some of the shows in Michael’s nightclub. That connection made him blink, the truth was that the rapid changes had left him bewildered. He remembered taking Maion through the portal to Earth that he and Michael-Lan had generated. They had emerged in mid-air and had fallen towards the ground below that seemed all too close and solid. He’d beaten his wings with all the strength he could muster and filled his flight sacs to bursting point in an effort to break the fall, yet Maion had still screamed with pain and passed out when they struck the road.

Now, these two humans were facing him. It occurred to him that their very presence meant that the aircraft overhead weren’t going to rain destruction down upon them but they both had drawn guns and seemed very determined. And hostile, Lemuel reminded himself of that. These are not the meek and docile servants I knew in Heaven. These are the killers who destroyed The Eternal Enemy’s Army with contemptuous ease, stormed his fortress, killed him and installed their own puppet in power. And now they will do the same thing to Heaven and that is the only way to save us from a madman.

Lemuel moved to place himself between the humans and Maion’s gravely-injured body. “Don’t kill us I beg you. Maion is terribly injured, she needs your help.” As if in answer, there was a thunderous crash and a brilliant flash of lightning.

Police Cruiser Adam One-Two, I-270, Bethesda.

“I said freeze sucker.” The standing angel had tried to step sideways and Malloy decided it was time to fire a warning shot. For the first time since he had bought the piece, he squeezed the trigger on the Pfeifer-Zeliska.

It took a second for Reed to clear the after-images from his eyes and shake the ringing noises out of his ears. When he had managed it, he looked around for his partner. Malloy was laying flat on his back on the ground, staring up at the F-22s circling overhead. Behind the two angels, little bits of concrete were still falling off the flyover where the. 600 bullet had plowed into the cement. “Too much gun?” Reed asked sympathetically.

Malloy climbed to his feet, also trying to shake the ringing noises from his ears. His hat had gone somewhere backwards and there was a red gash in his forehead where the recoiling pistol had hit him. “Nahh, just right,” he mumbled. Then, in a stronger voice he addressed the lead angel. “When I say freeze you don’t move. Not a muscle, you understand? Now kneel down and put your hands behind your head. Jim, call dispatch, tell them we have two angels in custody. You, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in athe court of law. You have the right to talk to a lawyer and have him present with you while you are being questioned. If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer one will be appointed to represent you before any questioning if you wish one. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?” Lemuel nodded. “What’s your name?”

“I am Lemuel-Lan-Michael. This is my mate, Maion-Lan-Lemuel-Lan-Michael. Please, you must help her. Just look what Yahweh did to her. Michael says humans are her only hope.”

“You get those names Jim? What does dispatch say?”

“I think they’re speechless. Oh, the Army is coming.”

“Please help her.” Lemuel was pleading, tears rolling from his eyes.

Malloy nodded and looked at the angel on the ground. She was indeed female and was as beautiful as Lemuel was handsome. In fact, she was just about the most beautiful thing Malloy had ever seen. Or would have been if she hadn’t been beaten so badly. “You say Yahweh did this?” He couldn’t believe it.

“It was done on his orders. Because a female he smiled on was jealous of her.”

“Damn. Jim, get back to dispatch. Tell them we’ll need some sort of transporter and a medical team. We’ve got an emergency here.”

“That’s all right Officer, we’ll handle it from here.” An Army Colonel had appeared at the scene. “This is ours now.”

“Sucks to be you, Sir. We got here first, this is a Prince George County PD collar. And these are our prisoners.”

Colonel Paschal sighed. He was beginning to see why Prince George County PD had the reputation it did. “And you are, officer?”

” Peter J. Malloy, Badge number 744, service number 10743.”

“Well, Peter J Mallow, badge number 744, this area is under Federal jurisdiction and these are foreign military personnel engaged in hostile activities against the United States and, by the way, the human race.”

“Hosile activities?” Malloy’s voice was openly derisive. His family had been big on State’s rights and the iniquities of the Federal Government. “Look at them. Lemuel there has been as good as gold. I’ve had more trouble busting little old ladies. And his mate is so badly smashed up, she needs emergency care right now. She’s not hostiling anybody. We’ve got the EMS on their way, have you.”

“Hostiling isn’t a word.” Paschal sighed again, then looked at the female angel. That was when he realized just how urgent getting her to a medical facility was. “And an EMS team won’t do much good. We need to get her to Bethesda at least. I can get a tank transporter here to move her.”

Malloy twisted his mouth in a semi-grin. He was having a lot of fun baiting this Army officer even though he knew it would probably bite him in the ass in the long run. “I’ll do you a deal. You take Maion there to Bethesda right away, we’ll take Lemuel to Central Booking and get him signed in. How’s that?”

“Malloy, if you look behind me, you will note that I have half a dozen armored cars here. They’re armed with 20mm cannon. Now, I have seen that pistol of yours and I note that the dirt on the back of your uniform suggests you fell flat on your ass when you fired it. So, let’s just assume that the balance of firepower is in my favor. So, I’ll suggest a deal. We get Lemuel and Maion, we’ll record you as being first-on-scene and them as being your collar. Fair enough? Oh, and I’ll make sure your watch commander knows that you had the situation well in hand when we got here.”

Molloy smiled at the Colonel. “That sounds right fair Colonel.”

“Good, now take a hike before we have a falling-out.”

I-270/Old Georgetown Road interchange, Bethesda, Maryland

The number of humans surrounding Lemuel was growing faster than he could count. All that mattered to him was that some of them had made a straight line for Maion and started to deal with her more obvious injuries. Lemuel knelt quietly on the blacktop, listening to what they said. He understood very little of what they were saying but he did comprehend the tones they were using to say it and that frightened him. Those tones were getting steadily more urgent and the actions of the people treating Maion were becoming more and more frantic.

“What is happening?” The words burst out from him.

The one Lemuel had heard called Colonel Paschal turned around. “She is your mate?”

“She is… Colonel.”

“That makes you next of kin I guess. The doctors here are deeply concerned. They’ll tell you all about it in due course but the short version is that your mate has numerous badly broken bones, severe internal injuries and a lot of superficial ones. We’ve got a vehicle coming, it’ll be here in a few minutes and that will take her to the best local hospital we can find. That’s a place called Bethesda up the road. At the moment, they are trying to stabilize her so she can be moved. They’re not certain they can do that.”

“What will happen if they can’t…. stabilize.… her?” Lemuel saw the sympathetic look on Paschal’s face and knew the answer without being told.

“Lemuel, I’m not a doctor, so I can’t give you a detailed picture. What I can do is this. We’ll do everything in our power to cure her. More than that, I can’t say.”