He looked at the two soldiers.
“How are you two doing?’ Torbin asked.
“Just fine, Colonel,” said the American.
“Colonel,” the Russian asked. “This will kill all the Squids?”
“Not all of them. But a whole bunch of them. There will be other weapons like this if need be.”
“Da, that is fine with me, Colonel. They killed my family in Russia. How you say, this is payback.”
Torbin looked at the Spetsnaz troop. “You got that right. Carry on.”
As he went up the ladder to the deck, Ichiro appeared.
“Colonel, they need you on the secure radio link. Something has changed.”
Malcolm Carter was woken by an abrupt large splash of water to the face. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was, and who had thrown the water in his face. He looked up to a sneering face that was completely covered by a Kraken Devil Fish tattoo.
“Hey, meat. You awake now? Good. You get to go for a short walk, take a crap and piss, so you don’t mess it up in here the truck. We still have a trip ahead of us.”
Malcolm glared at the Kraken capturer. “Anybody ever tell you your breath smells like shit?”
That got the former Mayor of Atlanta a hard slap across the face.
“Yeah? Well, you look like shit, are the same color as shit. So, get ready to stretch your legs.”
The Kraken started to leave, then turned around.
“Cause us any trouble, we start hacking pieces from you friends here. Got it?” The guard stormed off. Malcolm looked at the other occupants of the tractor trailer truck container, his friends. The only real friend was Red, the East Indian Princess with the Bollywood looks. She looked back at him and tried to produce a smile. However, she was still in shock from seeing Big Joe and Dawoud die.
After days of fleeing from hidey hole to hidey hole, they were finally trapped in a deep basement under a city works building. It had been part of the system of tunnels and former sewers and storm water drains they had been using to stay one step ahead of the Krakens, robocops, and harvester robs. There had even seen a few grays and Llzards in the attacking army. As they and the others who were hiding with them tried to flee, the walls began to collapse in around them. The Soldier Class beings,were smashing through the walls, as if they had no fear. Which they did not. In support were two of the cyborg robocops. Malcolm heard human Kraken voices further back. Reggie Adams and Professor Bashir Gupta, the creators and manufacturers of many of the deadly improvised weapons they had used against the invaders, had been killed just hours before when they too had been cornered. Now it was Malcolm’s turn.
But instead of killing them, the cyborgs seemed to be trying to capture the small group alive. They seemed to know exactly who they had found. As one of the robocops pushed past the artificial Soldiers and made a grab for Red, he heard Dawoud yell. “Allahu Akbar! God is great.” Before anyone realized it, he had jumped from a desktop onto the head and shoulders of the robocop, wrapping himself around the cyborg like a blanket.
“No!” Malcolm had yelled as he knew what was coming next. The shaped charge suicide vest Dawoud had somehow produced (or maybe Reggie and Bashir had helped) exploded into the head and shoulders of the robocop, killing it. The explosion had also killed Dawoud, spattering large pieces of him about. Everything seemed to stop as the explosion had a stunning effect to all those nearby.
“Run!” Malcolm had yelled. Then one of the soldiers grabbed him. He heard Big Joe bellow and saw the former NFL Lineman smash into the artificial creature. His bull rush slammed even the large soldier back into the nearby wall. Big Joe jammed his Bowie knife into a body armor joint near the throat of the soldier, and was rewarded with a squirt of some foul-smelling bluish liquid that must pass as its blood. A large caliber boom came from the direction of the Krakens and Joe’s head disappeared in a red mist.
“Stop.” The robocop broadcast over some internal speaker. “They are to be taken alive.” Then it grabbed the screaming Red, and it all became a blur as Malcolm screamed and tried to shoot anything with his pistol that he could. Something hit his head and it all went black.
Now he was sitting in the back of this truck trailer with Red and a half dozen others women and children and one unconscious black male he did not recognize. He had overheard the Krakens talking about meeting someone in Savannah, Georgia, so Malcolm figured he was going to be harvested.
‘Well,’ he thought. ‘It was fun while it lasted. And we took a bunch of assholes with us. Too bad the U.S.A. jackasses didn’t show up. Then, maybe…’
He shook his head. No use depending on anyone else. Where there was life, there was hope. He would wait and see if the Kraken guards got sloppy. If they did…
CHAPTER 40
FISHING TRAWLER
INTERCOASTAL WATERWAYS,
ATLANTIC COAST
Torbin Bender cursed to himself as he mulled over the communication he had just received.
“Goddamn mission creep,’ he grumbled.
“Colonel, there is a problem?” It was Abigail, a concerned look on her face.
“It has been my unfortunate experience that when your mission is changed in mid-stream—mission creep—to something fairly unrelated to the task, the gods of combat tend to screw you. Like Murphy’s Law. Things that can go wrong, begin to go wrong.”
He took a drink from his coffee mug.
“From a mission of mass destruction, to an attempted rescue. Talk about two different missions, trying to be rolled into one. As they said in Old England, it doth not bode well.”
“We can do it, Torbin-san,” Ichiro opined. “We are imbued with the Samurai Spirit. We have the soldiers with the correct skills. We will make it work.”
“And God is with us, my big brother.” Abigail added. “Never forget it.”
He looked at the two very special warriors. Then he laughed, clapping Ichiro on his back.
“Hell, how can we not succeed with you two willing us to be successful? Wished you two had been around with me when the Tschaaa first attacked. We’d have shown all the Admirals and Generals a thing or two.”
“But I was only twelve years old, Torbin.” Abigail said.
Torbin looked at his little sister, then began to laugh harder. He hugged her.
“Abigail, even at twelve, I think you would have been a force to reckon with. Come on, let’s brief the others on the change. They can help figure out how we can snatch this Mayor of Atlanta from the butcher’s block. The person who is taking a chance and leaked this information to us, I plan on buying them as many drinks as possible when this is all over and done.”
CHAPTER 41
U.S.A. CAPITAL
BISMARCK, NORTH DAKOTA
George Williams found Madam President staring out of the large window in her Oval Office. The view was a lot flatter than in Alaska, but there were some rolling hills nearby that broke up the scenery.
“Ma’am. The Colonel and his people have been notified of the change.”
Still staring out the window, Sandra answered. “You think this is the right move., George? To ask that small group to do even more?”
“Madam President, we owe Malcolm Carter. If for no reason than we have left many people twist in the wind down there. It would be criminal to ignore this chance at rescue.”
She turned and faced him. “Still think we can get the shot off, then go rescue?”
“Yes Ma’am. The primary mission stays the same. If Colonel Bender is unable to launch the She-Bear Missile, then rescuing the Mayor of Atlanta won’t matter. We would probably be facing a general attack once the Tschaaa Lords find out what we were doing. So, it still hinges on our MWD.”
Sandra Paul sighed. “I still hope the breeder Elizabeth gets into the meeting, she and Cassandra somehow make enough of an impression to cause a major shift in Tschaaa attitudes.”
George stood silent, not a good sign. “You have second thoughts, my good friend.”
“
Sal, I would love for them to succeed. We may have trouble selling some type of co-existence to a large portion of the population, given all the dead families. However, if they stop eating us, we would have a chance. But….”
“Go ahead George. I have always needed your honesty.”
“The Tschaaa is a very entrenched patriarchal society, with a specific dietary want they see as a need. I know our good friends Mr. Ispear and Colonel Bardun know more about the Squids than I ever will, but I still question the weight they will give the Oracle, the Seer, the Sybil. I think it will require… hell, something else to tip the scales. I just don’t know what that something is right now.”
Sandra Paul, one of the two most powerful women in the world at that moment, looked at her best and longest friend. She walked over and hugged him. She then stepped back and addressed him. “George, at times like these, I hope for the Divine to step in. If He or She does not, then, well, we will make the best of it. As we always have. We make a good team. We will make something work. One way or another.”
George grinned. “The old spine of steel is showing again.”
Madam President laughed. “I guess so. By the way, this…Bobby Parsons who contacted us about the enemy catching Malcolm Carter and moving him. Are we going to be able to get him out?”
“Don’t know, Ma’am. Alesha Taylor is claiming she is going down there herself if we don’t try. Seems that despite the great odds of this happening, they knew each other in school, he helped her and her mother escape.”
“Well, I’ll be damned, George. More confluence of events. But at least all those pamphlets we dropped and the broadcasts are influencing some to step up, not be sheep anymore.”
“Yes, Ma’am. And the communication interception we just got about the Squid Lord Neptune moving his sea platform closer to Savannah helps to verify the fact the Tschaaa have something special in mind for Malcolm Carter. I’m afraid to think what that may be.”
Sandra Paul snorted. “Probably, roasted Long Pig with an apple in his mouth.”
She shivered as the image she just mentioned hit her. “Damn, George. I must be getting jaded, saying that.”
“We all are, Sal, we all are.”
CHAPTER 42
FISHING TRAWLER
ATLANTIC SEABOARD
“Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the that grey twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.” - Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States.
I think he must have foreseen a challenge and threat on the size and scope of the Tschaaa Infestation. That, and had a spirit of Japanese Bushido concealed in his body and soul. His thoughts fit the spirit and thinking of the Free Allied Armed Forces and the leaders of Free Russia, Free Japan, and the U.S A.
-Excerpts from the Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family
All of the troops were a bit reserved after being briefed by Torbin Bender on the addition to the mission. Now they had something else to plan for. Torbin saw the slender Benjamin Black sitting in a corner of the large common and eating area, his sniper weapon disassembled. He saw the SSgt was whistling softly to himself. He had not had a chance to talk to the sniper since some weeks after their return form the Key West attack. Torbin knew what Black had done in Bloody Kansas, and why had become a true legend. He was now called The Reaper by many. True to form, there was a graphic comic book about the sniper’s exploits from that prolific pain in the ass artist and writer in Minot, North Dakota. Torbin smiled to himself as he walked over. He wondered if that author knew the danger he was in if he really pissed off Black. Black looked up, gave Torbin his signature small but genuine smile.
“Colonel. I’d stand but I’m knee deep in these rifle parts.”
Torbin laughed. “Sergeant, I don’t think I have ever not seen you wrapped up with some weapon, even all the way back to the Eaters at Evanston. Except for at the Grand Wedding.”
“Yes, Sir. That was fun. It was nice to see the Major and the Colonel enjoy themselves after everything that happened.” Black smiled again.
“You know. Sir, when I first saw her, and covered you two with the 50 Caliber, I never thought this would all happen. I was just doing the job I enjoy, and was created to do.”
Torbin sat down next to Black. “Sergeant, I never have asked how you came to be such a prolific sniper. You just always seemed to…be there. Can I be nosey?”
“Sir, after Key West, you have the right to ask me anything you want, even if you didn’t outrank me.”
Torbin smiled. You formed a special bond with those you faced Mr. Death, one that was rarely broken. “Okay. So, how’d you get here?”
“My dad got me into long range bullseye shooting. He was a vet so I joined the Army out of High School. I finished Basic and Infantry Training when the Squids attacked.” Black paused for a minute, then continued. “I found an abandoned Barrett 50 Caliber Rifle after everything fell apart and everyone was running around like a bunch of headless chickens. I scrounged a bunch of ammo, started working my way north. Eventually, wound up in Montana.”
He smiled again. “I got lots of practice with that Barrett on my way to Montana. Became a good shot, if I can brag. And found out what a 50 can do to a harvester robot, a Kraken, even hit a robocop once. Very satisfying.”
“You know they call you the Reaper now.”
“Yes Sir. As handles go, not bad.” The Reaper looked at his rifle he was reassembling, with his noticeably large hands and forearms. His original nickname had been Popeye.
“I’d prefer my Barrett, but this .338 Lapua semi auto will do. It’s lighter, easier to move. And the special penetrator ammo Pappy Gunn came up with will do a number on robocops if I aim for the weaker areas, like the face. Some home load sabot rounds I made myself that shoot a .223 bullet at four thousand feet per seconds have laser like accuracy at three hundred meters.
Some fifty rounds of ammo total will do me for this job, I think.”
“Well, Sergeant, with this additional task we were just given, your abilities may be put to the test. The powers that be want this Malcolm Carter alive. It may turn into a hostage type situation, shooting without hitting our special package.”
SSgt Black, the Reaper, smiled again in his signature way. “No problem, Colonel. I don’t plan on missing at this late date in my career.”
“Besides,” he added “I have someone waiting who wants to see me in one piece.”
“Pamela Bell, if I may be so bold.”
“Yes, Colonel. I guess word gets around.”
Torbin grinned. “She’s good people. As are her whole family.”
“Yes Sir. So far, they seem to like me. I plan on keeping it that way.”
Torbin paused for a moment. “I have to ask, being a forward SOB. Your… skill, your enjoyment of it. How is that going to…?”
“It’s separate, Sir. And, when this is all over, I plan to kick back and relax. Maybe try to farm or ranch a little. It runs in my family.”
Torbin stuck out his hand. “Let’s shake on that. I hope more soldiers like you can make similar plans. There has to be ‘an after’, something else. Can’t be lugging a rifle around for the rest of our lives.”
The Reaper fixed Torbin with a steady gaze. “This is all coming to an end, Colonel. Soon. I can sense it. And then you and I will have family to chew the fat with rather than talking about wind drift, sun angle and bullet speed.”
Torbin thought, once again, that he must be the only one without some ability at foretelling.
“I hope you are right. I pray that you are. Now, excuse me while on check on our special passenger in the hold.
“Yes, Sir…. And Colonel?”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
“Thanks for letting me come to the party. I needed to be here.”
“Can’t think of another sniper I’d want to cover my ass. Talk to
you later.”
“Yes Sir.”
CHAPTER 43
LORD NEPTUNE’S OCEAN PLATFORM
OFF THE COAST OF SAVANNAH, GEORGIA
The last of the Tschaaa Lords were arriving for the meeting of their version of the Ruling House of Lords, or maybe the Imperial Senate would be a more fitting title. The reality was the seven Senior Lords representing the seven Family Crèches that had remained on Earth were the power and decision makers for all Tschaaa that remained. The other six Crèches were on the trip back to the home planet aboard the generational starships used for the trip to Earth. Although the titular heads of the Crèches were aboard the starships, many of the minor lords and members of the families had been allowed to stay on Earth or on the huge Asteroid 18666 operations base. After experiencing the life giving oceans and seas of the Green Planet, they just could not face another almost thousand year trip back to their home world. For as seemingly abused as Earth’s oceans were, according to 21st century human environmentalists, they were still young and vibrant to the Tschaaa, whose own waters were much older. Now that the Squids had control of them, they planned to keep them that way, especially in the temperate climes.
The seven Lords represented South America; Europe to include the western half of Russia; Asia that included Siberia and the surrounding areas, stretching down to New Guinea in the Pacific Ocean; Africa, the area below the Red Sea; the Near and Mid East, from Turkey to the Indian Border with China; Australia and the surrounding areas that now included the Solomon Islands and New Guinea; and of course Lord Neptune, who had control of North America from the Panama Canal north. Lord Neptune was the only one of these seven Senior Lords who had taken a human name, one that humankind could pronounce. A few of the Minor Lords had, but for the most part this was seen as an unnecessary eccentricity. They knew each other’s Tschaaa names, who cared if meat could not pronounce their names? Other than Lord Neptune, the rest rarely had direct contact with the surviving humans in their areas of control. They used robocops, grays, surviving Front Men, and a few renegades to keep things running when necessary.
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