“Major General Peters, General Davis, fellow colleagues. The information in my briefing is Top Secret. Anyone without proper clearance please leave the room now before I continue. A dozen straphangers got up and unhappily left the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have been able to confirm through signal intelligence and satellite observation that Ellsworth AFB has two operational B-1B Bombers and sufficient aircrew and maintenance personnel to operate them. Recently we have detected the movement of forty-eight cruise missiles to a hangar near the aircraft. The cruise missiles in question are AGM-158B Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Missile Extended Range, otherwise known by some of you as JASSM-ER. The cruise missile has a thousand-pound warhead and a six hundred mile range. We believe they could launch at any time. The defensive avionics of the B-1B make it impervious to any of our defensive measures, not that they have to worry since al they would have to do is take off, and launch their missiles from above their own base.”
“Thank you, Major Arnot. This meeting is over. General Davis, Colonel Lee, and Major Arnot please stay behind; your staffs will not be needed.” Peters waited impatiently for the room to clear before he continued. “This is too serious to wait on. Our current arsenal of helicopters and transport planes is not enough to end this danger. While we could destroy the aircraft and hangar housing the cruise missiles with our helicopters, then land a strike force by aircraft to clean up after words, it would take too much resources and possibly risk lives. I am going to put the hammer down on them instead.” He stopped speaking for dramatic effect and Major Arnot almost choked to keep from laughing as the others looked on in confusion. “Arnie, you get the joke, probably even better than me. Please explain it to everyone.”
Arnot cleared his throat and then took a sip of water before he spoke. “In November 2026, the US launched a series of rockets that sent their payloads into orbit, the payloads then automatically connected to each other in orbit, as the first step in what was to be one of the largest space stations in our time. The science station Asgard was a success until it was hit, just a week after it assumed a stable orbit, by a series of meteors. All communications were lost with the station, and it was obviously too damaged to repair. Because its orbit was not considered dangerous to any other satellites in orbit it was just quietly abandoned. That, gentlemen, is where Thor’s hammer resides. A weapons platform capable of launching kinetic energy weapons anywhere on earth.” Army Brigadier General Davis stood up.
“The United States was a signatory of the Outer Space Treaty of 1967. It prohibited nuclear, biological, or chemical weapons from being placed or used from Earth's orbit!”
“Sir, Thor’s Hammer, is none of the above. They are tungsten rods that are simply dropped from orbit. Some called them ‘rods from God.’ Each rod strikes earth with the explosive force of a nuclear device, minus any fallout. I estimate we can adequately destroy any possible air operations with three rods. One that will take out the hangar, and two that will be spaced apart to crater the runway so even if they can salvage a plane, they can never launch it.”
“Change One to that plan, Arnie.” Major Arnot’s cheeks colored at the use of his unofficial callsign. “We will use ten rods to ensure the job is done right. Six rods will target the three rows of bombers. One rod will target the hangar with the cruise missiles. Two rods will crater the runways and the last rod will take out the base’s fuel supplies. We will launch the attack in two stages, at 2000 hrs local time. The first wave will take out the runways, fuel depot, cruise missiles, and half the aircraft. After bomb damage assessment, we will determine if there’s even any planes left to destroy. By the first strike being at 2000 hrs local, it will increase the visibility of the strike for hundreds, if not thousands of miles, as it will appear like a nuclear attack. The message will go out that you don’t want to screw with the reconstituted USA.” Peters looked at those sitting at the table, with the exception of Arnot, they appeared in shock.
“Sir, I’d like to contact the radio station and have them announce there will be a rare sight over the central US, maybe say, the Aurora Borealis, will be out early with especially bright colors.” Arnot suggested.
“Okay, get the word out to the radio station and to all our own people. Do you anticipate any problems with a launch from the station at 2000 hrs?” Peters didn’t appear ready for a negative answer
“Sir, I just need to set the targets, then a time on target for each rod. It’ll take less than ten minutes from the time I start. 2000 hrs coincides with when the Asgard is in range of the target.”
“That should be some sight. It’s a shame so many people will miss it since they can’t get outside to see it.”
“Sir, the weather over most of the country will be either clear or slightly scattered clouds. What would stop them?” Colonel Lee asked, confused. Peters gave him a look of incredulity.
“Gentlemen, this concludes our meeting.” Peters exited through the door to his office as both Arnot and Davis fought to keep from breaking out in laughter before they could get out of the room.
Chapter 8
Surprise, Arizona. April 11, 2029
Gloria was almost to Thunderbird Bridge. As she drove under it, she flashed back to the waking up on that bridge, dried blood covering her mouth and face, her uniform torn and disheveled, the front covered in blood. She lay among dozens of dead bodies in front of a hastily erected roadblock, most of the security forces still manning their post in death. Has it really only been ten or eleven days since all this started? She started to remember the rest of the day and young Oliver. She forced herself back to the present, barely turning in time to go down Glendale Avenue. She hadn’t planned it, but she knew now where she was heading.
Pulling into the parking lot for her old apartment complex, she could sense dozens, if not hundreds, of infected in the apartments around her. She looked to the west and saw the sun was not much higher than the White Tank Mountains. The sun would set soon, and then the infected would be out in force searching for food and norms. She laughed at herself as she realized she still had her apartment key and the keys to her office on base. She took one last look around to make sure no one else would see her as she climbed the stairs to her second floor apartment. She opened the door, not bothering to take her weapon out of the holster. The place was pretty much as she left it. She walked into the bathroom to find the hole her neighbor had made trying to get at Oliver, before they had retreated from the apartment last time. She could not sense anyone in the other apartment now. She went to the bedroom and pulled out her suitcase from under the bed, then tried to decide what she wanted to take with her as she stripped out of her uniform for the last time. She caught herself in the door’s full length mirror, standing in just her bra and panties and whistled at herself. “Girl, you are fine.” She noticed the little bit of baby fat she could never get rid of was gone and her abs were solid. Her breasts were smaller but firmer. Turning, she looked at her backside and noticed it was smaller and harder, going well with her more muscular legs. She redirected her attention to her face and took off her sunglasses. Her almond shaped eyes took on a life of their own with her brown iris no longer visible behind her dilated pupils making them appear black. Her cheeks appeared gaunt making her full lips appear even fuller. She cringed when she looked at her ruined tight, short afro, contemplating shaving her head, but instead turned her attention to retrieving her possessions. She pulled her favorite jeans off their hangar and pulled them on, disappointed that the loose fit reminded her of mom jeans. She grabbed a white muscle shirt and looked appreciatively in the mirror, before throwing on an ancient green field jacket. Looking down on the floor she looked at her collection of shoes that numbered almost a hundred pair, before choosing her favorite running shoes, then throwing her military issued boots into the suitcase. She quickly filled the suitcase with the basics before grabbing those items she really wanted. Going room to room she pulled down family and friend photos, promising herself she would find and help them all. If I�
�m going to get back to Georgia, it’d help if I went with that kid as far as Texas. Hopefully, I don’t shoot him before then, she thought as she gave a last look around the apartment. Her body armor and web gear still sat on the kitchen counter. She gave a slight sigh of resignation as she buckled on her web gear and picked up her body armor and suitcase before heading out to her truck.
The sun was still above the mountains, she figured there was less than an hour before it would be dark as she headed back to the warehouse.
The employee break room had not been entered by any of the infected, obviously by the lack of destruction and deposits of human waste. Caleb brought with him a case of survival candles and positioned them by the door before lighting them. Infected who wanted to explore the room didn’t dare go by the open flame as Caleb brought box after box into the room. He set up a king-size self-inflating mattress with base, then covered it with four pillows and a couple king size blankets. A guy can hope, can’t he? Caleb thought, as he hoped Gloria would return. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of alternatives out there, just less chatty, and not as nice smelling. He set up a camp stove and brought in a case of assorted freeze dried meals, and then returned to setting candles all over the room to set the proper ambiance. The last item he brought in was a satellite radio, just so he could hear human voices as the shrieks and assorted grunts and noises made by the infected were less than intellectually stimulating. Winding the handle to charge the radio’s internal battery, he had a moment of self-doubt, remembering the only radio station still on the air. There was no static as he searched for the station; the music took him by surprise.
Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through.
Somebody's gonna come undone; there's nothin' we can do
Everybody wants to touch somebody, if it takes all night
Everybody wants to take a little chance, make it come out right
Caleb reached to turn off the radio, what the hell did you expect? Ya damn moron.
“Not a fan of the classics, I take it?” Caleb ducked and grabbed for his pistol before standing back up sheepishly.
“You’re one sneaky lady. How the hell did you get so close to me without me hearing or sensing you?” Caleb asked exasperated.
“My guess is you were too preoccupied with what you were doing. That and your friends were already making so much noise I could have driven my truck in here.” Gloria’s eyes narrowed as she looked around the room. “That certainly is a lot of candles you’re using. I hope you don’t have any particular plans for your evening?” Caleb’s face reddened, and then he began to stutter.
“Um, the um, infected are afraid of fire. I didn’t want to share my dinner or my bed with them. I wasn’t sure you were coming back or not. I still don’t know your plans. If you’re staying, come on in, and make yourself to home.”
Gloria gave him a half smile as she headed for the couch and unzipped her field jacket and threw it on the opposite arm of the couch before plopping down. “What’s for dinner?”
Caleb was dumbstruck, seeing her in the form-fitting muscle shirt, when she took her coat off and felt even more foolish as she caught him staring at her. He reached into the box of freeze dried meals and pulled out a beef stew. “How does beef stew sound?”
“If you’re doing the cooking, that’s fine with me.” She moved a chair in front of the couch, and put her feet up on it as she watched him prepare their dinner. He reached into the box again, and pulled out lasagna with meat sauce, and began to turn the camp stove on to heat the pan of water. He tried to think of something witty to say and instead turned on the radio.
Ladies and gentlemen and all others listening to us tonight, we’ve been informed there’s going to be a rare Aurora Borealis this evening. It will only be visible for a short time around 2000hrs. So, if you can get out of your shelters and caves, come on out and see something you can tell your kids about one day. With that in mind, it’s time for some Big Star from 1972. Their biggest hit, Don’t Lie to Me.
Caleb looked at his watch, he had twenty minutes to eight, he was sure there’d be something more to it than the radio announcement, especially after the song selection following it. “The water’s hot enough, I’ll pour it into the pouch now. We have eight minutes to let it saturate and heat properly. Then I suggest we go out and see if we can see the northern lights like they said on the radio.” Gloria simply nodded, being more asleep than awake. Caleb went through the rest of the box and found a couple pouches of strawberries in syrup. That should make an excellent dessert for the meal, he thought, feeling his stomach begin to rumble.
Gloria was beginning to enjoy the attention and the affect she was having on Caleb. The couch was soft, the candlelight soothing, and she no longer was responsible for the safety of everyone at Sanctuary. At the moment she had no cares or worries, except for sending the wrong message to Caleb.
Caleb handed a pair of pouches to Gloria, a spoon already in one. “Why don’t you meet me on the loading dock and we can look at the Aurora Borealis while we eat dinner?” Gloria headed for the loading dock as Caleb disappeared in the opposite direction. Standing on the dock, it still surprised her how dark the nights were without streetlights and other light pollution. She started to think about how she’d enjoyed similar nights when Caleb came up from behind her, carrying his food and a couple of camp chairs.
“Here is your chair, my lady.” Caleb stated formally before he sat down next to her and began to search the night sky for signs of the Aurora Borealis.
“There!” Gloria almost shouted as she pointed north. The horizon glowed a brilliant whitish yellow then expanded for twenty seconds, before going dark.
“Son of a bitch! They did it. What in the hell is going on at Command? We need to turn the radio back on.” Caleb bolted back to the breakroom, ignoring the infected that were becoming more active, moving around in front of him. A few started to follow the pair until they got to the candles and turned around. Caleb dropped down at the table and turned on the radio, his hand shaking from anxiety.
Air Force Major General William Peters announced this evening that the Air Force was forced to launch a preemptive strike against the cult Apocalypse Chosen. The unlawful cult had acquired B-1 bombers and cruise missiles with the intent to take out the interim government of President Richard Etchberger. The president had recently been a prisoner of the Apocalypse Chosen until he led a successful escape with Air Force prisoners, with the happy ending when they managed to steal an airplane and fly it to an area in Wyoming under government control. We’ll now return to some golden oldies from 2010.
“Argh! What the hell did they hit the base with?” Caleb shouted at the radio. “Damn, I need a drink!” Gloria was looking at Caleb as if seeing him for the first time and began to feel nervous.
“What has you so upset? What difference does it make how they attacked the Apocalypse Chosen?” Gloria asked. Caleb settled down for a moment and collected his thoughts.
“It looked like it could have been nukes that they used. From where I sat in Special Operations when I was in Space Command, that was one of the ‘special tasks’ we had the ability to perform if needed. If we did that, then Ellsworth AFB and parts of South Dakota are going to be glowing for a long time, not to mention whoever was downwind for any nuclear fallout. The only other options that could have caused what we saw was if they loaded a C-130 with a MOAB, the mother of all bombs, and jettisoned it out the ass end like an air drop. The other possibility is so fricking top secret, I can’t say shit! If they did that, and any Russians or Chinese are still out there with their strategic forces, it could get ugly quick if the world ever fixes itself.” Caleb collapsed in the chair and began to wring his hands while staring at the floor between his knees.
Chapter 9
Douglas, Wyoming. April 11, 2029
General Peters looked at his watch and laughed. He was sitting outside the president’s office, and had been kept waiting for over a half hour. The power game was was
ted on him as he nodded to the president’s secretary. “Ma’am, you can let the president know we need to reschedule our appointment. You can get in touch with my secretary.” Peters rose the same time as the door opened.
“Come in, General.” Etchberger was already walking back to his desk. His desk had been replaced with a huge mahogany ‘power’ desk that made Peters wonder how in the hell they even got it into the office. “I’d like to know how you were able to execute a nuclear strike on Ellsworth AFB without my consent or the use of the nuclear football.”
“Sir, the nuclear football is still on Air Force One. About the first thing you ordered was for Ellsworth and the Apocalypse Chosen occupying it to be nuked. Today I had actionable intelligence that they had two B-1s and cruise missiles ready to be loaded on them for a first strike against us. I would be very surprised if they didn’t know where every office and strategic asset was located. I also did not nuke the base. I used Thor’s Hammer. A non-nuclear weapon.”
“Well, I should have been informed. If this happens again, we will need to discuss disciplinary action. You can go now.” Peters noticed that the president had a twitchy left eye, and was holding his left hand down on the desk with his right hand. Oh crap, the pig man is losing it. I wonder if he has a couple of metal balls to play with? He thought on his way to the hall.
The military and everyone who works with them are against me. I wonder if they’ve all been taken over by the aliens? Why are they even letting me live? I’m a puppet to make Americans think they have a legitimate leader. I need to find people I can trust and appoint them to positions so they can keep the military in check! Oh crap, I left a glass on my desk and now there’s a ring on the wood. Damn military idiots, just as bad as all those crybabies I had to take care of when I ran the Veterans Affairs. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out his bottle of Macallan 25 year old Scotch. He looked carefully at the bottle, It looks like there’s some missing since the last time I had a taste. Was it at lunch or was it at three? Oh well, here’s to the Office of the President. It’ll be a shame when that’s gone. I wonder if anyone has been tampering with my scotch?
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