by G. R. Carter
Grand Tower Island Power Plant
Forward River Operating Base
Sirens echoed through the walls of the barracks, making Levi nearly jump out of his bed. “Boss Marshall, wake up! ARK’s coming!”
Levi rubbed his head, trying to make sense of the words through his groggy mind. “Don’t call me boss, Dakota. Just Levi, okay? And settle down. What do you mean ARK’s coming?”
“We got the signal from the lookouts up by Kaskaskia. Came in by cable just a few minutes ago. A long line of ships, as far as they could see! Twenty or maybe even thirty! Who knew they had that many ships, Levi?”
“Did you hear from the Chester outpost or Degognia Mine yet?” Levi asked.
“No, I just came straight here. Reckon they’ve got word by now. What’s our move?”
Levi took a moment to think. “Get back down to the cable office. We need to find out what the upriver settlements are going to do, then see if we can get into contact with the Electors. We’ll need to know if they want us to fight for the base here or pull back to help Mt. Horab.”
Dakota hesitated. “What do you mean fight? There’s no way we can stop that much firepower. We’ll get blown away.”
All the other men were awake and moving in the room, watching the conversation take place. Levi surprised them, and himself, when he grabbed the young messenger by the shirt and pushed him against the wall. “We stay and fight because if we don’t those ARK bastards are gonna float right into our home and burn it to the ground!” He let Dakota go and turned to his work crews gathered around. River rats were tough men, not soldiers by trade but unafraid to fight. Levi had confidence they’d rise to the task, but figured he better make it clear what was at stake. “Mt. Horab needs us! We’ve been shot up, bombed out, seen our friends killed…no more! The Electors sent us weapons to defend ourselves, and we won’t let them down!”
Levi calmed himself, but kept an elevated voice. “We didn’t ask for this fight, ARK did. And I mean to give it to them. The harder we make it on them here, the longer Mt. Horab has to get ready to defend herself.” He locked eyes with his men, anxious to steel their resolve. “Get ready. Unless we’re told otherwise, we make our stand here!”
Sky above Route 61 Bridge
Old Appleton, Missouri
Mt. Horab Territory
“Flares ahead, Admiral Romano,” Lt. Thomas reported. “Two reds and two blues, we have confirmation of contact.”
Romano nodded his head, unseen in the low green light. ARKShip Tulsa’s crew had a ghostly appearance in the dim glow as they managed their respective controls. As Romano himself didn’t have a specific task right now, he busied himself looking once more at the maps in front of him. He’d stared at the same charts for several hours since they took off from their base west of ARK City. All eight skyships with him had made a big scene of their western departure, making it clear to everyone they were heading the Kansas City territory. The crews were all told the skyship squadron had important business out there, carrying several squads of highly-trained Peacekeepers to fight insurgents threatening AKR’s expansion. The skyships would have a chance to also provide close air support to their ground pounders; every man and woman on board was happy for a chance to redeem their craft after the Grand Tower Island debacle.
Unbeknownst to the crew, or the curious eyes tracking their every move in the daylight, Romano had changed their course immediately after dark. He had them tack south, against a slight breeze blowing northeast. For once the RenOne weather models had been right, making his course calculations bring them to the exact waypoint right on time to head towards their true target with the breeze at his back. He glanced at his wind-up pocket watch…the dayglow hands said 1:00 a.m. exactly. Each skyship captain would be giving the same speech to his or her crew that Romano started now.
“Attention everyone, this is the Admiral speaking. In exactly five minutes, our skyships will descend to ground and disembark the Peacekeeper force on board. We have been assigned the most critical mission ARK has attempted since the Reset. As of this moment, our squadron hovers above Apple Creek, on the edges of Mt. Horab territory. As you all know, the Buckles are responsible for the deaths of many of our people and threaten our very way of life. The Premier has given us—given you—the honor of proving our countrymen didn’t die in vain. Together with our ground pounders, we will seize the bridge below us, allowing our armored forces to move through and take the city of Mt. Horab. Even now, ARK naval vessels are on river towards Mt. Horab, clearing their defenses north of the city.
“After we have successfully completed that, we will deliver a very harsh reminder of what it means to attack ARK. We will continue on and attack the city itself, using both our incendiaries and our Gatling to support the armored and naval components. Together, we will complete the first combined forces attack in the post-Reset world.
“I am proud of each and every one of you, and I know that you will do your duty. Your officers have the exact orders and instructions you need. Best of luck to us all.”
Romano hung up the speaker, then checked his watch again.
“We’re over the flares, Admiral.”
“Very good, Lieutenant. Let’s begin our descent.”
Romano heard the engines change their tone, subtle hums of low power giving way to near silence except for the sound of valves discharging the buoyant gas contained in the cells above.
“We’re ready to make the leap,” the Peacekeeper colonel in charge of the operation said in the dark.
“Understood, Colonel. Wait for the sound of our engines reversing, then send your rappelers. Tie us off to whatever sturdy trees you can find. Once your last man is out, give the signal and cut the ropes. We’ll wait for you to engage the enemy. When you have, give us directional flares and get your men under cover. We’ll each make one pass over their lines with the Gatling, then we’re headed for Buckle country. Understood?”
“Understood, Admiral. Thanks for the lift.”
Romano smiled at the compliment. His squadron was about to successfully insert two hundred of the best trained and well-equipped soldiers in all of ARK right under Buckle noses in the middle of the night. Instead of having to slug their way through fanatical defenders, the armored column should be able to pass over a captured bridge in just a couple of hours. The move would bypass the fortress built by Mt. Horab atop of the only other surviving bridge crossing Apple Creek, along old Interstate 55, and give ARK’s Peacekeepers a clear path all the way to the walls of the city.
On Romano’s signal, the Tulsa’s engines went to near full power, this time pushing her down in a rapid descent. At one hundred feet, the engines were reversed, wobbling the crew’s knees for just a moment. Just as quickly the engines were cut and they hovered in silence. They could feel the vibrations through the deck plates as twenty-five fully loaded men got off one by one in quick succession.
Moments later a series of jerks signaled the cutting of the tie-off lines, and the engines revved again, causing Tulsa to gain altitude. One by one, each skyship in the squadron performed the same task without incident, a remarkable feat accomplished with only about a dozen practice runs on an open airfield in the preceding week.
As Tulsa reached cruising height, she began a slow circle of the landing zone, waiting for the fluorescent stripes on top of her sister ships to rise up to meet her. They hovered there, waiting for the next signal from the Peacekeeper force below. Romano fought the urge to scan the skies for signs of the fighter planes the Buckles had used against him at Grand Tower. ARK intelligence was confident they were old T-34s, likely from an aerobatic squadron popular at air shows before the Reset. Quite deadly in daylight, but little to no chance of night fighting capability. Romano swore inwardly; he was anxious for ARK engineers to complete plans for mounting self-defense guns on the skyships.
His mind returned to the task, searching in the dark below for any signal of trouble for the ground pounders. No flares yet…each passing second let doubt creep into his mi
nd. Did the Buckles mousetrap the airborne troops? Wait for the skyships to leave and cut their chance of retreat before pouncing? They’re crafty, that’s for sure…
They were in his head, he knew that now. A cold sweat gathered near his hairline and under his nose—he once more fought the urge to search the skies for that beautiful young pilot, the one who wanted so bad to kill him…
Bright flashes lit up a section of the forest below. Another bright yellow burst answered a short distance away. Romano thought he heard a crackling noise. Streaks of yellowish white pierced the dark, reaching out from one group to the other. A succession of twinkling flashes in a line illuminated the bridge over Apple Creek for a moment, then all was dark again accept for the green light of the cabin. Romano blinked the image out of his eyes, checking the ship’s compass and trying to return his spatial awareness. As if on cue, a quick burst of solar flares sliced through the heavens above, giving him another glimpse of the Buckle defenders. He could see vehicles massing on the southern side of the bridge, sending out occasional streaks to the south.
Confusion, Romano thought with satisfaction. He couldn’t hear the words, but he knew what the Buckles were trying to figure out: why is someone attacking them from the south, when ARK should be coming from the north?
“Normalcy bias is a dirty mistress, boys. Should have studied small squadron tactics at Old Main like we did,” Romano murmured quietly.
“I’m sorry, what was that, Admiral?” Lieutenant Thomas asked.
“Nothing, Lieutenant, just thinking out loud. Tell the Gatling to prepare for ground support, but not to fire until my order.”
“Aye-aye, Admiral.”
Flares began to ignite. Bright white bursts hung in the sky below, suspended by parachutes designed to give the skyships about thirty seconds of ground visibility. Romano meant to use each moment.
“Gatling, weapons free! Fire at anything that moves, but don’t hit that bridge!”
More flares popped, and Romano watched ant-sized figures scrambling back and forth, probably looking for cover and night blind from instinctively looking up at the flares that hung overhead. Good, let them get a look at their deaths from a fire-breathing dragon he thought.
The belly-mounted Gatling opened fire, pouring a hot stream of fire on the targets below. Quick bursts vibrated the entire ship, matched by other bright flashes from the Tulsa’s sister ships surrounding her at nearly identical altitude. Occasionally a streak from the ground would reach up towards the skyships, but the constant torrent of lead from the 1000-round-per-minute weapons kept all but the foolhardiest hugging mother earth.
Several vehicles were on fire now, lending their own candlepower to the target area. Romano could see trees falling from the buzz saw force of his weapons. Water from the creek went up in geysers along the edge, a little too near the bridge for his liking.
“Tell the Gatling to stay away from that bridge!” he yelled to Thomas.
He glanced once more at his watch. Eleven minutes had passed since they dropped the Peacekeepers, already one minute past his scheduled mark.
“Lieutenant Thomas, signal the squadron to disengage and set course for Waypoint Delta. The ground pounders can take it from here.” Romano allowed himself a little grin, unseen by his crew in the dim light. All right, you Buckle bastards. Time for some payback.
Red Hawk Republic Capitol Building
City of Shelbyville
30 Minutes after ARK Naval Vessels Spotted
Bright lights lit up the conference room, even at the witching hour. The yellowish glow burned strong now with the steady stream of hydroelectric power generated from turbines at the Lake Shelbyville dam. That same electricity gave life to a black plastic speaker positioned in the middle of the green and silver shield painted on the room’s conference table. A thick cord trailed off onto the floor and through a box cut out in the wall, eventually ending up in the offices of Republic allies all over the Midwest. Crackling static spilled out of the box, filling the silence waiting for a voice to come through from the other side. Alex sat and stared at the little holes cut into the plastic, noticing the dust settled into the bottom curve of each opening. For some reason the thought of how much work it would be to get them all clean popped into his head…
“Founder Hamilton, the Senior Elector is on the line for you,” a Deputy said, a little louder this time than he had the first. Alex finally broke out of his zone and nodded to the young man.
“Bill?” Alex said into the box.
“I’m here, Alex. Thanks for getting on the line at such a late hour,” the voice called out. “I’m sorry to disturb you with such news.”
“Clearly not your fault, Bill. I’m going to stay here in Shelbyville for a while anyway. We’re all on high alert here after everything that’s happened,” Alex replied.
“I’m thankful you and Bek are safe. And I’m thankful you were so vigilant, even if tragedy caused it. If you hadn’t warned us ARK was on the move…” The voice tailed off and left the obvious unsaid.
“We’re only sorry we didn’t have anything there to help you with, Bill. If I had so much as a sword there, it would be yours.”
“You’ve been a good friend to us, Alex.” Huffman’s voice had a disturbing tone of finality to it, striking Alex as a goodbye.
“Bill, you can make it through this. You’ve been through worse situations.”
“Right now, I’ll just be happy to hear you say you’ll take care of the Elect for me. Do you promise that, God as your witness?”
Alex hesitated for a moment, not out of doubt for the commitment, but more that doing so would give Huffman an excuse not to make it out himself. “You know I will. The Tamms facility is ready for you. Provisions and shelter for every one of you. By the time you get there, we’ll have a dozen Razorbacks surrounding the place. Sam’s got a squadron of Raptors and Talons ready to take off at first light. You just have to make it through the night,” Alex assured him. Only static replied. “Okay? Bill, are you listening? Make it through tonight, and the daylight is going to bring a whole new world. You’re under my protection now, no more playing games. Someone attacks the Elect, the Red Hawks attack them.”
Alex was leaning into the speaker. Bek sat right across from him wiping away a tear, matched by the one on his own cheek. Salty rage burned through the sorrow in their emotions. If they could, they’d have crawled through the wire in front of them and joined the fight, but distance left them frustrated and helpless.
“Thank you, Alex. That means the world,” Huffman finally replied. “We’ve got a good plan. And the defenses you helped us put together will buy precious time to get most of our folks across the river.”
“Bill, I’m telling you right now it’s hard to conquer a city. Bloody ARK’s nose and they might just declare victory and go home. The Peacekeepers are used to pushing people around, they’ve never taken heavy losses in a stand-up fight. You can do this. Bishop Hart has the entire Domicile up and praying right now, don’t you give up. We’ve both witnessed more miracles than we deserve…there might just be one more left for us old goats,” Alex said.
Silence preceded the reply. “You’ve already been a miracle to us, Brother Hamilton. Just take care of my people. That will be enough for me.”
Alex said nothing more. They were powerless to help and Huffman didn’t have any more time to waste on pep talks.
The Founder leaned back in his chair, fury building by the moment. His sister was there, probably trying to get in the fight. The Diamantes would know she’d be there, they had to know what it would mean if she got hurt…
The assassination attempt, tonight’s attack on Mt. Horab; his friends, his people were dying and he couldn’t seem to stop any of it.
“We’re going to put an end to all this,” he said to Bek through gritted teeth. “No more playing peace maker. From now on, it’s our way…or else.”
Elector’s Table
Mt. Horab Assembly Building
45
Minutes after ARK Naval Vessels Spotted
“We’re not as crazy as people make us out to be, Elector Bolin. We’re not going to turn Mt. Horab into some modern-day Masada,” Senior Elector Huffman said.
“I agree. But what else would you have us do?”
“The Republic will give our people sanctuary.”
“I would say it’s too late for that, sir! If ARK is already near Grand Tower, there’s no time to organize an evacuation,” Bolin pleaded.
“Then we hold ARK off as long as we can, get the young ones out. They’ll have to be our legacy.”
Bolin’s eyes sparkled with rage. Huffman cut him off before he spoke. “Brother, I want to fight as much as you do. Remember, I’ve been through this once before. Sticks and stones can be rebuilt, our only real asset is our people. The Elect must live for our message to be heard. John, please understand, there just wasn’t enough time.”
The fire subsided a bit in Bolin. He respected Huffman, knew the man was no coward. If the Senior Elector didn’t think there was a way to hold off the ARK attack from a city he had rebuilt through force of will, the Table would have to consider the inevitable.
A door burst open, revealing Essie Hamilton looking disheveled and out of breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but a messenger just got through from Old Appleton. ARK has seized the Route 61 Bridge. Apparently, they got in some kind of commandos behind our defenses with the airships.” She stopped and shook her head. “I should have killed them all when I had the chance.”
“No, Essie. Do not regret sparing lives. There is always a consequence to every action,” Huffman counseled. He rubbed his eyes doing some quick math in his head. “That means they’ll be at the walls in less than two hours…probably sooner. So it’s a combined attack, from river and land. Maybe air also if they’ve gotten good at inserting airborne troops.”
As if to emphasize his point, a loud siren wailed, rattling the windowpanes. “Okay, everyone, looks like we’re going to have a long night. We need to make some quick decisions before we head to the bridge. John, what do you suggest?”