First Strike (Hammer's War Book 3)

by James McEwan

  On the roof, the sniper acquired the passenger and pulled the trigger, and the large rifle barked again. The armor-piercing round sailed right through the armored window and hit the man in the chest. His lifeless body slumped as the contents of his chest sprayed the men who were still in the back of the vehicle. Then following combat protocol, he sent his next round into the engine compartment stopping the vehicle from being able to evacuate the rest of the targets.

  Down below the first of the two LPM 48s had made it to the front door. It lifted its heavy armored left foot and smashed the door. The wood veneered armored door was tough, but was no match for the power of the robot. The lock exploded inward with enough force that one might have thought it was blown off with explosives. The door itself swung inward and slammed into the wall, its hinge pins shattered under the strain. The door stood upright for a fraction of a second before teetering and finally falling over with a whooshing sound.

  The debris from the door had kicked up a cloud of dust and charging into that dust cloud was the LPM 48 with the tri barrel ready to kill anything that moved. Too bad for it, the next thing to move was the business end of a high explosive PML (Portable Missile Launcher) round.

  In the back of the entry way was a marine lying in wait. The missile covered the distance in a millisecond. The missile hit the robot center mass with a loud clang. Because the missile had a minimum range for safety and had not yet achieved it, the warhead did not arm. The engine however still had plenty of fuel left and the thrust was more than enough to knock the large robot backward. The LPM 48 slid backwards out the door and into the side of the vehicle with enough force to dent the side of the armored vehicle. The other LPM 48 stood and watched as its partner slid passed and into the side of the armored car. The missile’s engine finally sputtered and quit. The robot looked down at the unexploded missile sticking halfway out of its chest. Had it been human it would have felt a wave of relief. It wasn’t human; instead it reached up with its left hand intending to pull the missile free when it detonated.

  The armor on the vehicle saved the men inside, but the force of the explosion deafened them. The remaining LPM 48 took heavy damage from the explosion but still stood, just not for long. The front windows of the home shattered as magnetic mines where tossed through them. They bounced once before attaching to the robot’s legs and chest. Much later, when the story was retold one of the Marines swore he heard the robot say “Oh Shit,” just before it exploded.

  The Marine who had been shot in the face found that all of his optics had been fried and was struggling to get his helmet off. He yanked it off just as the first LPM 48 exploded. The armored vehicle saved him from the force of the blast, but his eardrums had been blown leaving him deaf, in pain, and just as disoriented as the men inside the vehicle.

  After the two heavy robots had been neutralized, a four-man team of Marines exited the house to clean up. Just as they exited the front door the three remaining SP’s stumbled out of the back of the vehicle, blood streaking down the sides of their faces. They decided that given their current state of affairs it was better to surrender than die. Even though they could not hear, they understood the commands being issued to them. They lay down on their bellies and placed their hands on their heads.

  Inside a Marine gave the all clear signal and Colonel Grunt acknowledged it. “It’s time to move. Ambassador, I need to get you and your family out as well. Be ready to Oscar Mike (on the move) in five minutes.

  “You go ahead and get the Emperor to safety. I have to see to my staff and their families,” replied the ambassador.

  “Sir, I can’t stress this enough, we need to get out of here and fast. I can’t secure both of you if we split up,” Grunt protested.

  “I’ll be fine. I have a security team at the embassy that will look after me. You just worry about getting them to safety.”

  “Sir at least let me leave two Marines with you.”

  “That would be fine, now get them somewhere safe.”

  Chapter 18

  Thad was trying to pull himself free of the steel bar that was sticking through his shoulder and pinning him to the floor when the others found him. “That looks painful,” St. Claire said as he stood over his friend.

  “Gees Dom, with manners like that it’s a good thing you never became a doctor,” the Chief said.

  “Yeah well, my parents didn’t hug me enough as a kid,” St. Claire answered back.

  “The man’s badly injured, you should be a little more comforting don’t you think?”

  “What?” St. Claire said holding up his hands. He then turned to Thad, “Do you want me to get you a pillow?”

  Thad knew why St. Claire was being so flippant, it was because he knew about Thad’s ability to heal and knew that he would be fine in a few minutes, “No I want you to stop being an ass and give me a hand getting off the damn floor!”

  St. Claire took Thad by his uninjured outstretched hand, “Grab his shoulder and when I say, pull.”

  The Police Chief bent down next to Thad and placed his hand under Thad’s shoulder, “Do you think this is a good idea? Shouldn’t we get some medics up here? I mean if we pull him off this, he’s likely to bleed out.”

  “Don’t you worry about me Chief, I’m a lot tougher than I look, just pull,” and with that the two men pulled. Thad screamed from the pain, as he was pulled free. “You know Dom, that didn’t hurt a bit,” Thad said once he caught his breath.

  “I bet,” St. Claire, replied.

  “How is Detective Reed?” Asked Thad as he did his best to brush the dust away from his clothing.

  “Didn’t make it,” was all St. Claire said. After a quick pause St. Claire spoke, “So, how come every time our paths cross all Hell breaks loose? I mean, are you some kind of shit magnet or what?”

  “At least I’m never boring,” Thad said with a slight smile on his lips.

  It was at that moment that both St. Claire and Thad noticed the Chief was standing there completely silent, his mouth gaping open. He was staring at the hole in Thad’s shoulder and watching in complete awe as it closed before his eyes.

  St. Claire stepped over to the Chief and slapped his hand down on his stocky shoulder, releasing a puff of dust into the air, “Clyde my old friend, Thad here is kind of special.”

  “I can see that,” the Chief said, still amazed.

  “Yeah, he has a few special talents, but I think they’ve left him a little touched,” St. Clair said, grinning wickedly.

  “I’ll leave you a little touched if you don’t stop flapping those lips of yours and help me find Fiona and Freya,” Thad tapped his friend’s shoulder.

  “They’re here too?” St. Clair said, shocked that he hadn’t thought that Thad might have been out clubbing with his wives.

  “I think they’re still down in women’s holding. They should be okay for now. By the looks of it the building took a hit on the west side. Women’s holding is on the east side of the building,” the Chief said.

  “What do you mean for now?” Thad asked with a hint of fear in his voice.

  “Sorry, I forgot you were pinned to the floor and haven’t seen the damage. By the looks of it most of the west side of the building is gone and the rest could come down any minute. If your wives are still locked in the holding cells then they’ll have no way to get out, and if the building does come down…”

  Thad understood and cut him off mid-sentence, “They’ll be buried under tons of rubble.”

  “You got it.”

  “Then what in the hell are we all standing around here flapping our gums for when there are damsels in distress to rescue,” St. Claire said as he charged off into the darkness. Thad and the Chief fell in behind him.

  Far down below Freya was still screaming, trying to get someone to come at least tell them what was going on, while Fiona was trying to keep the other ladies calm. Neither of them wanted to be locked in a cage with a bunch of panicky women. If things got out of hand, it would be a meat grinder i
n there and neither of them wanted to harm anyone.

  “Freya give it up, I don’t think anyone’s coming. I have a nasty feeling we’re on our own.”

  “Sister, I think you might just be right about that.”

  Fiona stepped up onto one of the metal benches that were attached to the wall and spoke, “Okay ladies, it appears that something incredibly bad has happened and no one is coming to help us. Now if any of you have noticed it’s getting a little hot in here and as well. The airflow seems to have stopped, so we may be cut off or sealed in. In either case, we need to stay calm. The longer we stay calm the longer we stay alive.”

  The large woman who wanted her wig from her earlier pushed her way to the front of the crowd. “Who put you in charge? What makes you think we should listen to some skinny pale ass?”

  Fiona looked her straight in the eyes, “You have a name?”

  “Yah, people call me Milkshake.”

  “Milkshake? Why?”

  “Because my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and my milkshake is better than yours.” Fiona rolled her eyes which seemed to spur Milkshake on, “Damn right, it’s better than yours. I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.”

  “Right… Okay Milkshake; let me put this as plainly and simply as I can. If you make my skinny pale ass fight you again I’m not going to bother fighting you, I’m just going to kill you.”

  “Just like that huh?” The large woman said.

  “Yah, just like that. The way I see things Milkshake, if I have to kill you to shut you up, then it’ll just mean a little more oxygen for the rest of us. So win, win in my book. Now, do you have any more objections or can we get on with the business of saving our lives?” Fiona said, standing her ground.

  “Why you little bitch, I’m gonna snap your neck like a….” was all she got out. Freya had made her way around behind Milkshake while she had been distracted by Fiona. Freya reached down to the tube lighting that lined her corset and tore free a length long enough to work as a passable garrote. She slipped it over the woman’s head and with all the strength she could muster, pulled it tight.

  Milkshake’s eyes bulged with fear and surprise as her fingers clawed at the cord around her neck. It didn’t take long before the large women slumped over. Fiona jumped down and the two sisters laid her on the floor, making sure she was still breathing. She would not be out for long so they worked quickly. Fiona tore more light tubing off her clothes and together they hog-tied Milkshake. It was just in time too as she was starting to come around as they finished their task. Freya tore the bottom off her corset turning it into a bra, and stuffed the remnant into Milkshake’s mouth.

  Milkshake tried to talk, but all that anyone heard was a muffled rant. While all of this was going on the other women stood by watching. No one moved and now no one dared oppose the twins. “Now, like I was saying ladies, we need to work together if we’re going to get out of this,” Fiona said.

  High above the twins Thad, St. Claire, and Chief Carpenter had made their way to an undamaged stairwell. They joined a long line of people making their way down the stairs. Some were wounded and being helped by others, others were in shock at what had just happened and were walking like zombies down the stairs. Chief Carpenter spotted one of his captains who was trying to help an injured officer walk down the stairs. He cried out to him, “Phil!”

  The captain looked back up the stairs to try to see who was calling his name. The Chief shouted twice more before the captain spotted him, “Chief!” He handed off the wounded woman to another officer and tried to push passed the stream of bodies heading down. “Glad to see you’re still alive Chief.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. Any idea what’s going on?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but if I had to wager a guess I’d say we were under attack, terrorist maybe?”

  “No way this is a terrorist attack. This is much, much bigger. Just before we got hit, I was looking out the window and watched what looked like orbital strikes hit at least two other buildings before this one got hit. I think we’re being invaded. We need to get all the surviving command staff together and find out just how bad things are.”

  “Yes sir,”

  “Oh Phil, the comms seem to be down. See if you can find some working radios or hell if you need to get some damn cans and string.”

  “Cans and string Chief?” Phil asked with a confused look on his face.

  “Never mind just get moving. I want a command post set up Asap,” the Chief paused to think. “Set it up at the old Front street station, if it hasn’t been hit.”

  “I’m on it,” the police captain said and then turned and rushed back into the sea of evacuees to carry out his orders.

  St. Claire placed his hand on his old friend’s shoulder, “Look Clyde, we got this. Go take care of your people.”

  “Thank you Dom. Seems like old times don’t it?”

  “If you mean up to our eyeballs in a heap of steaming shit, then yeah, just like old times.”

  The two old soldiers laughed then Chief Carpenter took Thad’s hand, “Sorry to leave you like this. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better. Anyone crazy enough to be a friend with this old curmudgeon is someone I’d like call friend.”

  Thad returned the handshake, “Me too Chief, but I have a feeling we’ll bump into each other again.”

  No more was said as the Chief pushed his way to the wounded woman the captain had been helping. He relieved the officer who had stepped in to cover for the captain and took her under his arm; carrying most of her weight he helped move her down the stairs.

  Thad watched while St. Claire said, “That’s just the kind of man he is.”

  “I hope he lives through whatever this is. I’d really like to get to know the guy,” Thad replied.

  “That old bugger is tougher than he looks; besides he has a habit of surviving the un-survivable. I’ve seen him…”

  Thad interrupted him, “Another time Dom, we still have my wives to save, remember?”

  “Well what in the Hell are you standing there looking at me like that for then? Let’s get moving. It’s a long way down and there are a lot of people on those stairs,” St. Claire said.

  “About that, I have an idea,” Thad said as he held up a small black plastic fob that looked like an encryption key to a vehicle. However, unlike a vehicle key, this device had only one button and bore no car maker’s sigil.

  “Okay, and what are you going to do with that?” St. Claire asked, not sure where Thad was going with his idea.

  “Emergency DDSD (Digital Dimensional Storage Device),” Thad said as he pushed the button. In a flash of green light a full sized DDSD materialized in Thad’s other hand.

  “When we get out of this mess you have got to get me one of those,” St. Claire said as if he were a jealous child.

  “If we live through this I’ll get you two,” Thad said.

  “So what little trick do you have for getting us to the lower levels quickly?”

  Thad didn’t answer right away; his fingers were busy swiping through the items until he found the one he wanted. Two more flashes of green light and Thad was holding two cylinders that were about the size of a 40mm grenade. He handed one to St. Claire and then tucked the DDSD into his jacket.

  “What are we going to do with these?”

  Thad stepped over to the handrail and looked down. There was more than enough room for a man to fit. St. Claire looked over the rail then looked at Thad, “Let me guess, some kind of antigravity in miniature?”

  “Nope, that would be too slow,” Thad said as he cracked his cylinder open. Two green and one blue glass ball rolled out into his hand.

  “Thad, I’m not sure that I like where this plan is going. Care to explain what these are?” St. Claire asked.

  “Another one of Doctor Hammer’s discarded experiments. It was supposed to be a new antiseptic gel, but the gel material was a two-part formula. Once mixed and applied it was supposed to dissol
ve into a harmless gas leaving behind the antiseptic.”

  St. Claire had to know, “Okay, so what went wrong?”

  “The problem was that the gel converted too quickly into a gas to leave enough of the antiseptic behind to do any good,” Thad explained.

  “I get it, so what made you think of using it for a landing pad?”

  Thad smiled at the memory, “It wasn’t me. Doctor Hammer figured since it couldn’t be used as a medical device maybe it could have other more… entertaining applications.”

  “Entertaining?” St. Claire asked as his eyebrows rose a bit.

  “Yeah, you should have seen his face when he asked me up to the roof of the house to show me something. I went up expecting to see some new addition he wanted to put up there, but no, he had me look over the edge just like we are now. Then he dropped the two green balls and he waited for a few seconds, then he dropped the blue one… just like this.” Thad dropped the two green balls, and then waited counting off the seconds in his head. Then he dropped the blue one. “Here let me see the other cylinder,” Thad asked.

  “Here,” St. Claire handed it over, “Then what did he do?”

  Thad put his hand on St. Claire’s back, “He did this,” he gave St. Claire a strong shove and over the railing he went. St. Claire let out a surprised scream as he tumbled head first over the railing, plummeting toward the bottom. He knew now there was nothing he could do except roll forward so he would land on his back. He had to trust that his friend hadn’t just thrown him to his death.

  Down at the bottom of the stairwell the two green balls shattered into near dust size particles. As the gas escaped it quickly dispersed, nearly filling the whole of the stairwell. A second later the blue ball passed through the green gas and shattered, releasing a gas that when mixed with the first caused the whole area to instantly turn into a soft green airy gel. Moments after that St. Claire landed in the gel. He felt as if he had landing on a bed of marshmallows. His fall was slowed so quickly and efficiently that he almost felt nothing. He rolled forward in the gel so that his feet would hit the ground first, and by the time he got into a standing position the gel was converting back into a gas. He touched down with no more force that taking a step.