by Evan Currie
And didn’t that send a chill down Pearson’s spine.
“Right… I’ll make sure Hale knows he needs to get that thing to leave Berlin.” She said through a suddenly dry mouth.
“Indeed,” The Air Force General said just as dryly, if for a different reason. “It would be bad form to level downtown Berlin, them being allies and all.”
Pierson nodded, “Can it catch that thing? Right now, based on recorded speeds, I think about the only chance of that is Hale himself.”
“We don’t know. It’s not been tested with the new engines,” The Air Force General admitted quietly.
Pierson winced.
Ouch. Ok, I take back all the ‘chairforce’ comments I’ve ever made. Whoever is flying that thing has nerves of solid titanium to go with the plane he’s piloting.
“We estimate that it should be good well into hypersonic, but… well, at some point, even a Sled isn’t going to stand up to air friction for long.”
She nodded, “Well, let’s hope for the best then, shall we?”
There really wasn’t much else to say, after all.
*****
Berlin
Trading blows and blasts with the woman was almost fun, Hale quickly found. She was powerful, clearly, but not so much that she could really hurt him as best he could tell and, more importantly, she wasn’t any faster than a normal human. That made things a lot easier, though she had an annoying habit of targeting civilians instead of him.
Goddamn bomber mentality. I hate those fucks.
After the second attempt at torching the cops and civilians, Alex had had enough. He abruptly accelerated across the plaza and drove a fist into the woman’s sternum hard enough to put a strong man down but tempered enough not to kill her if she wasn’t tougher than a normal person. She folded over almost instantly, breath exploding from her mouth with a puff of flame and smoke, leaving her open for his follow up.
He almost casually backhanded her across the skull, sending her to the ground in a daze, if not outright unconscious.
So far he hadn’t seen anything that was too difficult to deal with, the problem was that there were a lot of them in the area.
More than there should be.
He tapped his earpiece, “Pierson, Hale.”
“Go for Pierson,” the familiar voice instantly replied.
“How far out is the target?”
“Ten minutes, give or take. We are going to need time, however, to get assets on site.” Pierson told him. “The target appears interested in conflict on the ground.”
“Plenty of that here,” Hale said with feeling.
“Granted. So… try not to clean it up too fast, if you could,” Pierson said delicately. “I know people are getting hurt, but…”
“But that thing is the priority target,” Hale gritted out through clenched teeth. “Roger that. I understand. Don’t like it, but I understand.”
“What’s to like?”
Not a whole hell of a lot, Hale had to admit, but that was par for the course with how his life had turned out recently.
“Fine. There’s probably too many damn targets down here to clean up that fast anyway. Do we have a count?”
There was a pause, and he could hear Pierson saying something away from the microphone. Probably asking for a count, he assumed.
“Nothing definite,” She replied when she came back on. “We’re tracking multiple changed, but the numbers are pretty clear that there are a lot more than we haven’t identified. Right now all we have is a statistical model that’s at least fifty percent guesswork.”
“Give it to me.”
Pierson sighed, “At least forty, probably closer to eighty in the city.”
Hale swore.
That was worse than his estimate by a good bit.
“Definitely too many to clear out in ten minutes anyway. ETA to the asset?” Hale asked.
“A bit over an hour. Keep it interested for that long.”
“Roger that. I’ll put on a show.”
Hale closed the connection with that, and took quick stock of the area around him. The crowd was pushing the police cordon, trying to get into the plaza now that the apparent threat was over, while the German police struggled to hold them back.
GSG9 had made an appearance, if the slight glint of a scope from a rooftop was any indication. That was good news, as long as they didn’t shoot at him. He didn’t need the distractions.
The rioting, however, had moved south toward the Spree, bringing most of the changed with it.
Hale took one last look around the plaza, then launched himself upwards and away, arcing to the south as he began to formulate his next plan of action.
*****
Blue Solar HQ, London
“Sir?”
Wesley looked over from the paperwork he was working on.
“What is it, James?”
His assistant nodded to the flatscreen, “You might want to see the news. Events in Berlin have escalated.”
Wesley sighed, but set down his pen and grabbed for a remote. The TV flickered to life, already on the news network, and he watched the spectacle unfold.
Some of the Changed were there, we knew that, but it looks like there are far more than expected. Enough to attract the Marine, however? Something is off about that. Why is he on the other side of the planet when there are riots going on in America?
“Give me the rundown,” He ordered simply.
James had clearly been expecting the request.
“Yes sir,” The efficient man said simply, “as you are aware, riots broke out in Berlin earlier today, with reports of some superhuman activity that remained unconfirmed for some time. The Marine arrived slightly less than twenty minutes ago, most reports indicate that he immediately took to the streets to join the fighting, and there’s a rather nice photo still of him intercepting a molotov cocktail thrown at a police line to underscore that…”
“But?” Wesley knew his man’s phrasing, and was certain there was more to the story.
“Time stamps on the available data shows that the earliest video of the Marine show him, not in action, but over the city looking to the North East as though waiting or looking for something.”
“It’s coming back.” Wesley leaned forward, eyes glittering with more life now as he examined the screen.
He had nightmares of… whatever the hell that thing was, floating over his headquarters building in Hong Kong. Something that looked like a slice of Lovecraft’s nightmares crossed with an iridescent glittering lightshow that was almost… beautiful. However, beautiful or not, nothing that could take the beating that the Chinese air force had thrown at it was anything less than a nightmare.
The fact that it had been hiding over their heads that whole time until it had been somehow unveiled just made it worse.
Almost unwillingly, Wesley looked out the windows of his office to the sky over London, and he shivered.
“Presumably, yes Sir.”
“If they’ve asked the Marine to show up, they have a plan,” Wesley said, taking deep breaths. “We’re not going to get in the way of that, but I want observers on sight. Who can we get into the area fast enough, and what kind of gear can we get them?”
“Drones, perhaps, Sir?” James suggested as he examined a tablet. “and we have several people already in the region who have proven reliable in the past. High end surveillance gear shouldn’t be a problem either.”
“Full spectrum gear, James,” Wesley said firmly. “Everything from Gamma to ELF, if we can manage it.”
“There are several very impressive companies in Germany that build gear that that, Sir. Some of it would be prototypes, but I’m sure we could hire the use of…”
“Buy them.”
“Sir? Hiring the use of the equipment would be more than sufficient for this operation,” James said, confused.
“No,” Wesley shook his head, “buy the companies. I want to own that gear, and the patents, by end of day if possible.�
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“That… will be pricey, Sir.”
“I know the value, James. Make it happen.”
“Yes sir.”
*****
The probe slowed its approach, already receiving telemetry data from the central incident it was observing.
The destruction and general loss of infrastructure was precisely what it had been hoping for, and expecting. The probe ran more calculations, collating data from across the planet. Already it was showing a significant slowing of focus to the more problematic of the world’s endeavors.
Data flowing through the satellite network indicated less interest in any sort of off world programs, and more on internal defensive measures.
That was precisely the outcome the probe had determined would happen, and had desired.
The more the disease focused on internal issues, the less chance it would have of spreading through the galaxy beyond.
The local star was likely going have to be collapsed anyway, but this would save much of the local arm if things continued to go according to plan. The probe continued to decelerate as it approached the deeply populated continent, observing the destruction being wrought on one of the major cities with both clinical interest and an almost childish glee.
There was little quite so satisfying as observing the enemy tear itself apart.
*****
Chapter 6
Berlin
Hale landed hard near a bridge that lay across the Spree river, scattering a group of rioters that had been chasing another group of people fleeing the violence. This particular one seemed mostly Islamic, but he’d already broken up two white supremacist groups chasing after other nationalities as well, which left the marine with little patience for any soft footing around the issue.
“One chance,” He called out in a loud voice. “Break it up, and go home!”
They wouldn’t, of course. Mobs didn’t listen to reason unless it was pretty much literally rubbed in their nose, but he wanted to at least give them the opportunity.
It would leave him feeling less guilty about what came next.
“He’s just one man!,” one idiot called out, apparently ignoring the fact that he was just one man who had dropped from the sky. “Get him!”
Hale just grinned and waded in.
He kept from breaking bones, but anything short of that was fair game, and there was a lot of pain that could be inflicted without breaking anything vital.
No signs of any other superhuman targets, where did they all get to?
He didn’t have to spend much time thinking about what he was doing, running through the fight on autopilot as he looked around for any other targets of opportunity that might present. A shot rang out, shaking that lackadaisical attitude from him in an instant flush of adrenaline as old instincts kicked in and caused him to pivot into a crouch.
The shot had been aimed at him, Hale felt it as it ricocheted off his shoulder and a yelp of pain signified that one of the rioters caught the result.
“Shooter in the field!” He called out, half on autopilot and half to scatter the rioters in case they were too dumb to recognize the threat. Despite having little to no patience with them at the moment, he had no desire to see them all dead either.
Whether it was his warning or, more likely he supposed, the injured man who’d gone down in a halo of blood, the group did the smartest thing they could. They either hit the ground, or scattered. Hale stayed low, mostly just following old battlefield instincts, and scanned the buildings and streets for the shooter.
Where are you?
He resisted the immediate urge to head for cover himself, an old instinct that warred with his new reality. Guns just weren’t an actual threat any longer, which was something his instincts gibbered in shock at the very idea of, but it was a fundamental truth. Hale stood his ground, even slowly rising to his feet and standing tall amid the people cowering on the ground, effectively daring the shooter to try again.
He had a general direction to the shooter, based on where the bullet had hit him, so Hale kept his eyes open as he started walking slowly through the, now former, rioters along that path.
He saw the flash a moment before the bullet itself, time seemingly slow just enough that he could actually track the 7.62mm round, if only just. It was aimed well, and Hale made himself stay in place to catch the round full on in the chest, flattening it and tanking the kinetic energy so it would hit any bystanders. Then, he launched himself at the flash he’d seen.
The sonic boom shook dust and mortar off the building as he arrived beside the shooter an instant later, glancing down at the prone man who still hadn’t reacted to his arrival. As the shooter jumped in response to the shockwave, Hale plucked the hunting rifle from his hands and casually tore the weapon apart with a casual gesture.
“That was a little reckless, don’t you think?” He asked as the man scrambled backward, eyes wide at the display.
“Get back, demon!” The man screamed, in German, surprising Hale.
“Demon?” Hale looked down at himself, “Really? I know the US Military doesn’t have the best reputation in some circles, but that seems a little overblown.”
The man didn’t seem to appreciate his commentary by his reaction, pulling out what looked like a rosary and prayer beads, mumbling some sort of catechism under his breath.
“Oh for the love of…” Hale rolled his eyes, dropping to a crouch as he reached out and plucked up the crucifix that hung from the chain. “You are so damn lucky I don’t have time for this nonsense tonight.”
Hale ignored the continued rantings of the clearly terrified man, rising back to his feet to scope out the location. He found what he was looking for quickly and simply grabbed the praying man like a sack of potatoes, hooking his arm around him and slinging him under arm as he grabbed the remains of the rifle before flying off.
The police saw him coming as he centered in on the closest cordon, and Hale saw several tense up but orders quickly got everyone in line. He dropped the man off, along with the destroyed rifle.
“Shooter.” He said. “Hit a rioter by accident, trying to kill me. Here’s his rifle, injured back in back by the bridge.”
One of the German police officers nodded, replying in english, “Very well. We will hold him, at least until we can investigate.”
Hale nodded, “Thanks. I’m going to keep trying to suppress the actions of any Changed, give you boys a fighting chance at cleaning this up without too many people getting hurt. Careful out there tonight, it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better.”
The officer didn’t have time to say anything before Hale vanished in a puff of wind, staying below the speed of sound this time so as to avoid causing any hearing damage or, potentially far worse, any sudden shocks to the men with loaded rifles.
The night in Berlin was tense enough as it stood, and everyone was on a hair trigger. Hale didn’t have much hope of not adding to it, but he felt that he could at least try.
Not that it would matter much, he supposed, eyes on the sky for a brief moment.
When that thing arrives… all bets are off.
*****
USSOCOM Bunker, Virgina
“Target tracking over Poland now, slowing to enter East Germany airspace in the next ninety seconds.”
Pierson and Isaacs didn’t respond to the announcement, both intent on keeping their eyes on the screens.
There was a certain irony, to Pierson’s thinking, that with all the equipment and people on hand, their best real time information was still coming from fucking CNN.
Well, and the BBC, She amended, nothing that those two networks were clearly getting the best on the ground coverage of the situation, at least in terms of video. She was basically ignoring the commentators and talking heads, none of them knew their ass from a hole in the ground anyway and they were clearly just trying to fill time between juicy video clips.
Of course, to be fair, no one knew anything about what the hell was going on.<
br />
Probably including the people causing all this trouble.
“Where are we with the riots?” She asked the Homeland Security representative, making her way over to that desk.
“We have the superhuman ones contained here in the States,” He said quickly. “Mexico is struggling, but not as badly as one might have expected all things considered. Canada is peaceful… because of course they are.”
Pierson chuckled at the man’s tone, “Just try to keep our streets quiet.”
“It’s not easy,” He admitted. “We have brushfires breaking out all over the place. We contained the superhuman ones quickly, just as planned, but…”
“But?” Pierson’s voice was sharp.
“In the last hour alone, there have been over a hundred new riots without reports of a single Changed at any of them. I don’t know what’s going on, are we missing something? Did some of the changed get passed us?”
“Almost certainly,” Pierson sighed, rubbing her face wearily, but I doubt that’s the real problem, I’m afraid.”
The liaison to Homeland security looked at her, confused, “What do you mean?”
“I’d be interested to hear that as well,” a woman Pierson recognized as being the Langley rep said, turning their way.
Pierson sighed again, feeling more tired than she ever had before. Not physically, but deep to the core.
“I should have seen this coming,” She said, looking over to the NSA station. “Quick check, are we seeing the same thing worldwide? Riots with no apparent connection to the Changed?”
The NSA representative hunched over slightly, working on his terminal, before he straightened up and looked her direction.
“How did you know that?”
“Goddamn it,” Pierson swore.
She took a breath, forcing herself to work through the scenario before she spoke.
“It’s a combination of factors,” She said finally. “Two main ones. The first is simple human behavior. Fear, anger, these are contagious emotions… viral behavior basically. The second is, both simple and complicated. The simple aspect of it is that we have the internet, a global communications system, and emotions are digitally contagious. People all over the world see other people rising up, and the emotions are spreading like a plague.”