by Jeff Kirvin
"DTF one to team. Report in."
"DTF two, all clear,” reported Jack from the other side of the stage.
"DTF three, all clear,” reported Heinrich from his sniper's position atop the monument.
"DTF four, all clear,” reported Lucy from her position at the base of the monument.
"DTF five, all clear,” reported Paul from behind the stage.
"DTF six, all clear,” reported Roberto from inside the communications van.
By the estimates the Park Service gave Daniel, there were over one hundred thousand people gathered on the hillside at the base of the monument and stretching up the mall nearly to the Capitol Building waiting to hear Phillips speak. Hundreds of them held signs and banners, roughly evenly split in favor of Phillips’ policies and opposing them. He still saw no sign of Beelzebub, though.
A limousine pulled up behind the stage. Surrounded by aides and Secret Service agents, Senator Timothy Phillips got out of the car and made his way, smiling and waving, to the podium.
"My fellow Americans and people of the world,” Phillips began, “I want to thank y'all for hearing me today. I need to discuss something that could affect the future of all mankind.
"About eight months ago, we finally learned the demons of our nightmares were real, flesh and blood creatures. In the time since, we've tried to wipe out this plague, and we've failed. The demons are, if anything, more widespread and dug in now than when this whole thing started. The UN's Demon Task Force is a failure, and it's about time we own up to that.
"Worse than that, the demons are everywhere. These godless monsters have had untold centuries experience blending into the human population, and that's exactly what they've done. Despite what they've told you, the DTF doesn't have the slightest idea how many demons there really are. The ones that weren't named in Zagam's files probably kept their human identities and even now work against you. They could be anyone. Your boss. A cabdriver. Even your best friend.
"And these are demons that the DTF will never find.
"So I've come here today with a Call to Arms. If the DTF and the federal government can't or won't track down and destroy these monsters, it's our duty as Americans to do it for them. We have the right as Americans to bear arms. We have the right, as Americans, to protect our homes and families. If we can't depend on those elected to protect us, it's our duty to protect ourselves, and end the demonic threat once and for all!"
The crowed erupted into a cacophony of cheers and boos. The sides were drawing up.
"I call for every American to take up arms and hunt down the demons close to you. I want each and every one of you to consider yourself a demon hunter, and to strike fast and without mercy when you discover one of these monsters. I want—"
"That's enough!” cried another voice from the side of the stage. Most of the crowd hushed as Susan Richardson forced her way up to the podium. “Don't listen to this madness!” she yelled.
"Now just hold on there, little lady,” Phillips said, trying to maintain control. “This here's by invitation only, and I don't recall inviting you."
"He's afraid,” Susan said into the microphone. “He's afraid a voice of reason will break his spell."
Someone in the crowd began chanting “Let her speak! Let her speak!” and thousands of people picked up on it. Not wanting to do anything in front of the cameras that worsened his image, Phillips relented.
"Some of what Senator Phillips said is true,” Susan began. “Yes, there are still demons out there. Yes, the DTF is destroying them slower than we hoped.
"But last I checked, vigilantism and public lynchings were still illegal in this country. The witch hunt mentality Phillips proposes merely plays into the demons’ hands. It instills chaos, distrust and fear. We can't allow fear of the demons to do their work for them. We can't let it tear us apart!"
Someone in the crowd shouted “Demonlover!” and lobbed a beer bottle at the podium, where it caught Susan in the head. She went down, bleeding.
That was all it took. Within moments, the tensions and divisiveness in the crowd turned violent. As the riot grew, the hopelessly outmatched Park Police tried to quell it and the Secret Service escorted everyone on the stage, including Daniel, Jack and Susan, out the back.
Waiting behind the stage out of the way yet still in view of the television cameras stood a tall figure in a hat and heavy coat. When Susan and Phillips exited the stage and were in full view, Beelzebub threw off the coat and hat, revealing a huge battle-axe, and prepared to make his move.
Adversary
"Madre de Dios.” Inside the communications van, Roberto couldn't believe what he was seeing. They had all expected Beelzebub to make his move on Phillips during the speech, for maximum effect. Now Roberto had on camera a perfect shot of the demon behind the stage, getting ready to use one hell of an axe.
Roberto keyed his radio. “DTF six to DTF one. Come in, boss.” He got no response from Daniel, and judging from what he could see on his camera, neither Daniel nor Jack had even heard him.
Roberto wasn't combat ready, but he couldn't just sit there and watch this happen. He took a pistol he'd only fired at practice ranges from the console next to him, opened the back door of the van, and stepped into the fray.
On the Washington Mall, chaos reigned. The tensions that had been simmering over the past few months had boiled over with a vengeance. Thousands of people were already battered and bloodied as the riot spilled into the streets of the U.S. capitol.
Inside the White House, President Walter Thomas watched the carnage on television. He looked away when Bill Peterson, his chief of staff, walked into the Oval Office.
"So you've seen,” Peterson said.
"Bill, how on earth did we let it come to this?” the president asked.
"I suppose we didn't see it coming."
"Bullshit, Bill, a blind man could see this coming. We were just too afraid of standing up to Phillips and his witch-hunters to act on it."
The President of the United States continued to watch the riot unfold on his television. Before long, he thought, I'll be able to watch it out the window. “It's not going to get any better,” he said. “Call in the National Guard."
Roberto ran, not for his life, but for others. From his vantage point, he was still the only one that could see Beelzebub. His shouted warnings were lost in the din of the riot, and the demon was closing in on the tight knot of people that was Daniel, Jack, Susan, Phillips and a handful of Secret Service agents.
Though Roberto had his pistol out, he dared not fire. The demon was in a direct line between him and the others. If he missed, he might end up doing the demon's work for him. His only hope was to get close enough to the demon for a shot he couldn't miss before the demon reached his target.
And it soon became obvious as Roberto lugged his heavy frame across the Mall that he wasn't going to make it. Ten meters away from Beelzebub and twenty-five from Daniel, Roberto took his shot.
The bullet flew high and wide to the right. The demon kept running.
Roberto couldn't let this happen. He took off with everything he had, figuring if he gave himself a heart attack, maybe his momentum would let him tackle Beelzebub anyway. Scant meters before Beelzebub would be in striking range of his first target, Roberto let go a primal scream and made contact. He and the demon went down in a tangle of limbs.
Daniel whirled at the commotion and saw Roberto struggling feebly but bravely with the demon. “DTF one to team,” he shouted into his radio. “Beelzebub is behind the stage. ‘Berto's down! Move it!"
Daniel and Jack moved into position as Beelzebub regained control of the situation. They couldn't get a clean shot because the demon was using Roberto as a shield. He held Roberto in front of him with one hand and the axe at his side with the other.
"You've got nowhere to go, Beelzebub,” Daniel said over the riot. “Put him down and step back and no harm will come to you."
"Well,” Beelzebub replied in his thundering baritone,
“since you put it that way...” Uncurling his arm, he flung Roberto to the side. At the last second, he refused to let go of Roberto's jaw. Even over the crowd noise the others heard quite clearly the snap of the man's spine as he heavy body went one way and his head remained in place. Beelzebub dropped Roberto's corpse.
Daniel couldn't believe what he just saw. “Take him down!” he screamed.
The bullets flew from the weapons of the DTF and Secret Service, but Beelzebub didn't seem to mind. Faster than anyone expected, he charged into his group of attackers, bringing them into each other's line of fire. He then began to swing his axe with reckless abandon, taking out two Secret Service agents before anyone thought to stand back.
And on the Mall, the riot raged on.
Allies
The battle with Beelzebub had quickly devolved into a stalemate. The demon kept moving quickly, weaving his way in front of one person after another, so no one could get a clear shot. On the other hand, the DTF and Secret Service kept everyone else out of range of that axe. And so the game continued, each side playing out little feints that ultimately went nowhere.
Then, over the noise of the riot, over even the noise of the approaching National Guard, they all heard the thunder of rockets, drawing nearer by the second.
"Look!” someone shouted.
Daniel reluctantly took his eyes off the demon and searched the sky. Out of the glare of the afternoon sun, he saw four vaguely man-shaped figures drop from the air. The first landed with a heavy thud, his back-mounted rocket scorching the grass between Daniel and Beelzebub. The other three landed soon after, surrounding the demon.
Stark white suits of armor the likes of which Daniel had never seen covered the four of them from head to toe, shifting metallic plates mimicking in shape and position all the major muscle groups. Folding metal wings swung back from the shoulder blades, each wing including an integral rocket or engine. The armor suits each stood seven feet tall, and nearly five feet wide even with the wings folded. They looked like metal, winged gods.
Beelzebub spoke first, addressing the armored figure between himself and Daniel. “Gabriel. Long time, no see."
Gabriel answered him, the angel's voice amplified through the armor. “It's over, Beelzebub. You and your kind will trouble the humans no longer."
Beelzebub looked around at the four angels that faced him, then dropped his axe. “Fine. You win. I'll leave."
Gabriel took a step forward. “I'm afraid you don't understand. The rules have changed."
Before even his demonic reflexes could react, the four angels each grabbed one of Beelzebub's limbs. Gabriel half-turned to face the crowd of humans, and more importantly, the television cameras. “Let this be an example to the demons of the world!” his amplified voice rang. “Your reign of terror is over!"
Without another word, the four angels extended their wings, ignited the wing-mounted rockets, and took off. Daniel and the others watched at they flew hundreds of feet into the air, Beelzebub flailing helplessly between them. On Gabriel's cue, they all flew away in different directions, ripping the demon apart. Before any of the pieces could fall back to earth, they were incinerated by the angels’ arm-mounted flame-throwers. Without any further statements, the four angels turned and flew away to the northwest.
By nightfall, the National Guard had dispersed most of the rioters. A few were detained for questioning, but most simply went home. The president was wrong. The fighting never got as far as the White House. Small miracles, he thought as he again stared out the Oval Office window. But this has to stop.
Someone knocked on his door. Jenny Miller, his press secretary, poked her head in. “Mister President, they're waiting."
"Thank you, Jenny."
Walter Thomas straightened his jacket and hurriedly gathered together the speech he'd spent all evening writing. This foolishness had gone on long enough.
When he walked into the White House Press Room, the gathered mass of reporters quieted at once. Personally, he was amazed at the turnout. It'd been a heavy news day.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he said into the microphone. A few reporters laughed good-naturedly.
"Eight months ago, we learned that humans weren't the only sentient creatures on this planet, and that the creatures we knew only in myth and religion as angels and demons were real, flesh and blood creatures. We also learned that the demons had been hounding and tormenting mankind for centuries.
"That knowledge, like all knowledge, could have become either a blessing or a curse, depending on what we did with it. Today in the nation's capitol, we found out which it would be.
"As much as I might agree with Senator Phillips in ideology, I must condemn his means. While our laws in this country only cover human rights, his call for individual citizens to hunt down demons on their own is irresponsible and dangerous. A man's right to swing his fist ends at another man's nose, and thousands of individual demon hunts are going to get a lot of noses broken. We have laws regarding vigilantism in this country, and I expect our citizens to obey them.
"The UN's Demon Task Force is doing the best it can to erase the demonic threat, but while those brave men and women do their jobs, we need to get out of the way.
"In that light, I'm declaring a national State of Emergency, the duration of which being until the demons are wiped out. During this time, any demon hunts conducted by private citizens will be considered a federal crime, and will be prosecuted as such.
"It's important, ladies and gentlemen, to remain calm. The situation is being handled, and despite what some may tell you, it's being handled well. You are in no danger other than fear and hysteria. We'll get through this thing, together, as a nation."
Most of the reporters began asking questions, but one voice quieted them all. “Mister President, may I join you?"
Nearly all the reporters recognized the voice from the footage they'd seen of Beelzebub's destruction. The crowd parted to allow Gabriel, who'd been standing quietly at the back of the room, to approach the podium. The angel stepped up and stood next to the president. Gabriel towered over the human. Though not as tall as Beelzebub, he stood at least six foot six. The armor was gone and he was dressed in an impeccable Italian suit.
"Mister President, it's an honor. I am the archangel Gabriel.” The man and angel shook hands.
"Pleased to meet you, Gabriel. You did quite a job on Beelzebub out there today."
"Yes sir. That's rather what I wanted to discuss.” Gabriel turned to face the press, the president seemingly forgotten.
"My people have made a mistake. When the news of our and the demons’ existence broke, we thought that our involvement would only complicate things. If the demons were faced with having to fight both humans and angels, we were afraid they would fight more fiercely and the battle would cost too many irreplaceable human lives. We counted on their arrogance, and your skill, to wipe them out before they realized they needed to strike.
"Unfortunately, we were wrong. The demons have proven far more difficult to remove than we hoped, and now we realize our need to step in and help you end this madness. Today was our first test.
"I would like to announce that from this point on, the angels are willing and active partners with humans in the struggle against the demons. Together, with our strength and your flexibility, we can wipe their evil from the Earth for all time!"
The crowd erupted into applause, and the angel stepped down from the podium to answer each reporter's questions individually. No one noticed when the president left the room.
The Oracle
Uriel crouched behind a cluster of tumbleweeds in the hot Nevada desert, taking one picture after another.
It had taken countless hours of non-stop investigative work, exhausting all of his usual sources, but he finally thought he had the location of Hell. He'd tracked several demons to this area just north of Las Vegas, where he'd discovered an abandoned missile silo. It didn't look like much from the outside, more a shack than anyt
hing else, and if he didn't know what he was looking for he probably would have missed it. But the longer he stayed and took pictures, the more sure he was that he was right. This was the place.
The angels had suspected for quite some time that Satan had moved his headquarters after the Revelation. Immediately after talking with Daniel in Washington, Uriel had caught a flight for the Middle East, and verified that all Satan's previously known roosts were abandoned. He then tracked down one false lead after another on a trail that led him to Tibet, Australia, the Congo rain forest, and the Andes before he finally ended up in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Inevitable, I suppose, he mused, a smirk on his sun-browned face.
Once he had taken all the shots he could from his current vantage point, he stealthily moved on to more cover and started shooting from another angle. He needed all the proof he could muster.
"He's been out there for hours,” Belial said, sitting at the surveillance console and pointing at the monitors.
Satan stood behind him, looking over the shoulder of his new second in command at the pictures being picked up by the surveillance cameras. Clear as day he saw the angel taking photographs, moving to a different location, and taking more. “Uriel, what are you up to?” he wondered aloud.
"Should I have him brought in?” Belial asked.
"No, I don't think so. I'm interested in why he's here, and we're not going to learn that by questioning him. Have him followed when he leaves. If he merely runs back to Michael, fine. If he talks to anyone else, I want to know who."
"My Lord, do you think it's wise to let the angels learn where we are?"
"I don't see what harm it can do."
"With all due respect, my Lord, need I remind you what happened to Beelzebub two days ago?"