by Jeff Kirvin
"In India, angels regularly clear the streets with flame-throwers. In Sydney, Australia, those that dared to publicly protest angelic regulation were killed where they stood.
"In the name of order, Michael is weeding out the best of humanity. Under his regime, people like Steven Hawking or Ludwig von Beethoven would never have existed. We can't allow this to continue.
"Throughout human history, people have fought for the cause of freedom. We fight now not for the freedom from oppressions of the present, however terrible they might be. We fight for the freedom of the future. The freedom to decide for ourselves what's best for humanity. There is no greater need in all creation, and no greater threat in our thousands of years of history than the one Michael poses right now.
"The Arab people have a word for a holy war: Jihad. That's what we're fighting, whether the average person knows it or not. We're fighting for the soul of mankind, and for future generations’ ability to express it.
"We now declare an official war, the Angelic Jihad, and we will not stop until mankind is free!
"So I beg of you, good people, join us. Help regain your freedom before it's too late. Many of you can already feel Michael's noose tightening..."
Michael's face was a bright red, and veins stood out sharply on his forehead. “How is he doing this?"
"Unknown, my Lord,” replied one of the angels in Michael's court. “He must have spliced into a satellite feed."
"And no one can stop it?” Michael asked, a million threats unspoken in his voice.
"We're trying, my Lord, but—"
Just then the screen went black.
"We found him, my Lord,” came a voice over the intercom. “The transmission originated in San Diego. Once we found it, it was a simple matter to mask it out—"
"Yes, fine,” Michael said. “Gabriel, get going and bring him to me!” Michael turned for confirmation, but Gabriel was already gone.
Daniel became aware of the cameraman signaling to him. “What?"
Manuel's voice came down over the speakers from the control room. “We've been blocked,” he said. “I told you we wouldn't have much time."
Daniel was already removing his clip-on microphone. “It was enough,” he said. “We're out of here.” The Underground left the television studio as swiftly as they arrived.
Gabriel and four other angels, all clad in armor, burst into the television studio. “Where are they?” demanded Gabriel.
No one spoke for a long moment, then the lead technician stepped forward. “They're gone, sir. They left about fifteen minutes ago, as soon as the transmission was cut."
Gabriel stood and smoldered. “Why didn't any of you notify the proper authorities when they first arrived?"
Again, the intimidated humans were not forthcoming with answers. Gabriel stepped forward and lifted the lead technician off his feet. “Answer me!” Gabriel shouted, his armor-amplified voice echoing through the studio.
"Th-th-they had us under gunpoint,” the technician stammered.
Gabriel dropped the technician to the floor. “No excuse. One of you could have reached a phone.” He turned to his second in command, Azrael, the Angel of Death. “Execute every human in this building for harboring a known heretic."
"Yes, my Lord,” replied Azrael.
The room grew cold as Gabriel turned to leave. Near the door, he stopped. “Azrael,” he said.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Do it on camera,” Gabriel said, still facing the door. “I want the world to know the price of offering the aid Cho just requested."
"Where will you be?” Azrael asked.
Though the massive shoulders of the armor didn't move, Gabriel seemed to deflate a bit. “I have to go explain to Michael why we've failed him again."
With the heavy thud of armored footsteps, Gabriel exited the building as Azrael and the others closed in on the doomed humans.
First Offensive
Susan Richardson had caught every word of Daniel's broadcast. It played on her worst fears, but she had to be sure. That's how she found herself crammed into a ventilation shaft leading directly into Michael's throne room. She had to hear it for herself. She had waited for one of Michael's private meetings with Gabriel, then moved to listen in. Now she wasn't sure if she really wanted to hear it.
"Progress is slow,” Michael said, “but it's working."
"According to schedule?” Gabriel asked.
"Not exactly. Figure four or five generations to weed out the genetically unfit. Not quite the three we'd hoped for, but progress just the same. In one hundred to one hundred fifty years, we will have bred out all the known genetic defects and abnormalities in the human race. After that, it's just a question of maintenance."
"Maintenance?"
"A child can be genetically tested for random mutations while still in the womb. If it doesn't meet standards, we destroy it and the parents start over."
"That's not going to go over well,” Gabriel observed.
"Nonsense,” Michael said. “This petty rebellion will die quickly enough once you finally deliver Cho's head to my desk, and in a few generations time the humans will do what we tell them without question. We could probably even order the parents to destroy the child themselves, but that wouldn't be as efficient."
"You think the humans would destroy their own child?"
"If we told them to. Besides, the practice has been part of the human tradition for thousands of years already, for things as minor as being the wrong sex, or simply because the parent couldn't be bothered to raise a child. We're not telling them to do anything they don't already do."
Gabriel was silent for a moment, then, “How many chances do they get?"
"For what?"
"To produce healthy offspring."
"Three, I think. After that, they're sterilized."
Michael paused a moment. “On second thought, they should be destroyed. If they can't contribute to the following generation in three tries, they shouldn't be allowed to continue draining society's resources."
Susan had heard enough. As she crawled back the way she came, she tried to think of as many ways as she could to use her position to help Daniel and the Underground.
To some extent, the initial stage of Daniel's plan had worked. Over the past few weeks, the San Diego Underground had steadily gained members, and Daniel had been informed by the other leaders that the effect was similar worldwide, even more pronounced in hard hit areas. The Indian Underground had nearly tripled in size. The Underground was quickly nearing the size required for phase two, a full scale, worldwide assault of key angelic bases. The vast majority of Daniel's time was devoted to planning the offensive, to the point that Jack or Ricardo frequently had to force him to stop and eat or sleep.
Though he never mentioned it, Daniel was terrified. On the rare occasions he let himself step back from the details of the assault and look at the big picture, the concept nearly knocked him flat. The whole world, six billion people, depended on him to help them win their independence. He'd developed an ulcer over the last week, and in the few hours he slept he had frequent nightmares of what would happen if they failed.
The weight of the world was literally on his shoulders.
He was pouring over maps and schedules around two A.M. one morning when Jack walked into his office.
"Morning, boss."
Daniel looked up, bleary-eyed. “Jack,” he grunted.
Jack took a seat across from Daniel and lit a cigarette. “When was the last time you slept?"
Daniel managed a weary smile. “What day is it?"
"You got to ease up, Daniel,” Jack said, blowing smoke at the lone, dangling light bulb. “We aren't going anywhere if you collapse from exhaustion."
Daniel sat up straight, hearing his spine creak as he did it. “I'm fine, Jack."
"And I'm Harry Truman. You have to relax, Daniel."
"You think Michael's relaxing? Or Gabriel? We can't afford to delay this any longer than we have to. I ha
ve to get—"
"That's your problem,” Jack said.
"What?"
"You said, ‘I have to',” Jack said. “Not ‘we'. You aren't in this alone. You've got Ricardo, Manuel and me here to help you, and the leaders of the Underground around the world to delegate authority to. You've come a long way since I first met you. When we started in the DTF, you were a hero, but not a leader. I saw potential, and that's the big reason I asked to be assigned to your team, but you didn't know much about leading others back then. You still wanted to do everything yourself.
"Now, on the other hand, you really are the leader everyone thinks you are. You know how to use your reputation and your actions to inspire those who follow you. Most of the folks out there,” Jack said, jerking this thumb towards the main tunnel, “would follow you anywhere, do anything you ordered, without question. You know how to lead. You just don't know how to administrate."
Daniel knew Jack was right. “Fine,” he sighed heavily, the weight of the past few weeks still pulling him into his chair. “What do I still need to learn, o Buddha?"
Jack grinned. “Start by trusting your subordinates. The others leading the Underground around the world are in their positions because they've proven they can do the job. Give them their goals, then let them find a way to accomplish them. You don't have to do it all on your own."
Daniel nodded as Jack stood up. “And get some sleep for crying out loud,” Jack said as he opened the door. “You look like Hell."
Daniel leaned back in his chair, and was asleep before Jack closed the door.
Preparations for the offensive began in earnest two days later. Forces that had swelled remarkably since Daniel's address began to mobilize around the world, waiting quietly for Daniel's order to attack.
In San Diego, the target was a golden, armored bunker used by the armored angels that patrolled the city. Lacking any Care Centers nearby (the closest one was the one south of Los Angeles that Daniel and Ricardo had liberated), the bunker was the only angelic target in the area. Unfortunately, its defenses were only slightly less intimidating that those of Heaven itself. Scouting reports estimated over twenty armored angels present at any given time, and the building, while ornate and beautiful, was nearly indestructible. Daniel knew that they would be outgunned and overmatched, but the situation wouldn't be different anywhere else in the world. It was time to make their stand.
At 10 P.M. GMT, the humans around the world attacked as one.
Daniel and his troops emerged from their hiding places near the bunker and advanced under the early afternoon sun. The timing was less than optimal for them, but it would be the dead of night in the more oppressed parts of the world, and Daniel figured the Indians and Chinese could use every advantage they could get. To pay the price for that, Daniel fought in broad daylight. Such was life.
The first few minutes of the attack went well. The angels were caught off guard. The first volleys of explosives launched at the bunker went unanswered, and left significant denting and scoring on the metal walls. Daniel wondered if the surprise attack might work even better than he'd hoped. Then, like angry hornets, the flying metal angels swarmed from their nest.
Pyrrhic Victory
Daniel recognized one of the angels right away by the golden markings on his armor. “Gabriel."
As if in response, Gabriel turned his armored head in mid-flight and spotted Daniel. The angel brought his weapon to bear as Daniel raised his grenade launcher, and they fired simultaneously.
Daniel dove for cover as Gabriel's rocket whizzed by his head, exploding safely behind him. Gabriel wasn't so lucky, the explosion from Daniel's grenade ripping off his left wing and forcing him to the ground.
Daniel wore riot armor very much like his DTF combat uniform, but he had no illusions about taking on Gabriel in a toe to toe fight. The only thing he did have in his favor was that the other angels seemed to be ignoring him, not wanting to get between Gabriel and his prize. Testing the theory, Daniel turned and ran.
As he expected, only Gabriel followed. “You can't escape me this time, Cho!” the angel's amplified voice bellowed.
I don't plan on it, Daniel thought. The angels’ bunker was situated on a huge lawn that spanned a city block, but it was surrounded by downtown San Diego. Daniel was soon off the burning grass and running through the streets, dodging the occasional rocket from Gabriel. He soon found cover around a corner, and let the speeding angel have a grenade when Gabriel came into view.
The explosion was dead on, and knocked Gabriel off his feet. Daniel noticed that the angel's armor was scorched and blackened in places, but still intact.
Daniel ran again, and the chase continued.
Manuel wasn't having as easy a time. He and his men were pinned down behind a burning truck by two angels. Manuel figured it wouldn't be long before one of them tried a flanking maneuver. Manuel knew they were only fifty yards from the entrance to the bunker, and that if they could get around these two angels, they could probably gain entry. Two of his men were badly injured and weren't going anywhere, leaving only him and three others to remove two armored angels.
Bad odds, Manuel thought, shaking his head with a sardonic grin. He risked a peek around the side of the van, and a rocket whistled by his head. Both the angels were still there. No choice, he realized.
"All right, here's the plan,” he said to his men. “I'm going to run off to the left and try to draw their fire. While they're watching me, you three go out to the right and knock them down. You're only going to get one shot, so watch your aim."
The other three men nodded.
"On three,” Manuel said. “One, two,
"Three!"
On cue, he burst out from behind the van and ran as fast as his legs could carry his heavy frame. As expected, both angels turned and fired on him. He heard his own men returning fire just as the first rocket caught up with him. The explosion blew him off his feet and tossed him through the air. As the ground flipped beneath him, he saw both angels drop and his men move to finish them off. He hit the ground hard just before the other rocket found him.
Daniel's game of cat and mouse was beginning to take the wind out of him. He'd managed to hit Gabriel solidly twice now (three, counting the wing shot), and scored three other near misses, all without being hit himself. But, he cautioned himself, one would be all it took to get through his armor. Daniel didn't have the leeway that Gabriel enjoyed. He had to end this.
If his sense of direction was correct, he had very nearly led Gabriel in a circle leading back to the bunker. If he could get to some reinforcements...
Daniel left his hiding place and took off at a run. Gabriel spotted him and followed close behind.
Ricardo was doing fairly well.
His group had confirmed the destruction of eight angels so far and they were hard at work on a ninth. They had the lone angel pinned down, and it was just a question of whittling down its defenses.
As Ricardo stepped back to supervise, he heard a familiar voice screaming his name over the comm channel. He turned and saw Daniel running a zig-zag pattern towards him, a one-winged angel with gold markings hot on his tail and firing wildly.
Ricardo quickly had half his men cease fire. “General Cho's in trouble!” he shouted.
As one they turned and took aim at Gabriel. Ricardo heard Daniel's voice again. “As soon as I find cover, blast him!” Daniel shouted, sounding very out of breath. Ricardo nodded and relayed the orders to his men.
Gabriel was no fool. He saw what was sizing up against him, and he was prepared. The instant Daniel dove to the ground, Gabriel switched targets and fired on Ricardo and his men just as they fired on him.
Daniel rolled over on his back just in time to see several grenades impact on Gabriel's armor, blowing it apart. The fire from the explosions reached high into the afternoon sky, and Gabriel was no more.
Daniel turned to wave thanks to Ricardo. He found only a smoking crater where his friend had stood. Daniel stood and bega
n to lurch over to it when a badly damaged angel appeared from behind the crater and tried to fly.
Daniel destroyed it, then collapsed to his knees.
The battle wore on for a while longer, but after Gabriel's destruction, the outcome was never really in doubt. Late that afternoon the last angel in San Diego was destroyed and the bunker fell into the hands of the Underground.
Relatively speaking, Daniel's attack was a stunning success. At the end of the day that would long be remembered at the First Offensive, just over half the angelic population of Earth had been destroyed. More than two thirds of the human attackers had perished to buy such a victory. In New Dheli, more than ninety percent of the resistance fighters perished before destroying the angels, in the end just running unarmed and unarmored at the armored angels until the angels’ weapons ran out, eventually ripping the angels apart through sheer force of numbers.
Around the world, the survivors rejoiced, then prepared to do it all again.
Daniel sat on the scorched ground outside the captured bunker, staring at Gabriel's charred helmet in his hands. Around him, the members of the Underground celebrated their victory in the late afternoon sun. Daniel heard footsteps walking towards him and looked up to see Jack's smiling, if filthy, face. Daniel nodded and frowned.
Jack plopped down on the dirt next to Daniel. “So you've seen?"
"I have,” Daniel said. The reports from the other commanders had come in just over a half-hour before.
"You know,” Daniel said, sitting back and thinking, “when the Greek general Pyrrhus defeated the Romans at Asculum, losing most of his forces in the process, he was reported as saying, ‘Another such victory and I must return to Epirus alone.’ I know how he felt."
"This isn't a Pyrrhic victory, Daniel."
Daniel laughed, a bitter sound. “Isn't it?"
"Look around you,” Jack said. “We won."
"Won what?” Daniel snapped. “We lost two thirds of our forces to take out only half of the angels. Now, you can do the math if you want, but that almost never works out."
"So we'll get more people,” Jack said. “After today the whole planet knows the angels can be beaten, and while we can replenish our numbers, they can't."