by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 39
Billy flew towards Madrid, but soon noticed a small firefight below him. It took him a while to figure it out because it made no sense. Quads were blasting a Spanish military base, although fireballs are not effective against stone buildings. Then he noticed how few flew over the base, and how powerful their blasts echoed. Maybe they weren’t Mongols after all. Well, he better find out before he started killing people in the dark. Although it made him feel silly, Billy screamed. The harassment stopped and fliers shot straight up.
I hope they’re not coming to kill me, Billy told himself, not yet over his trembling. Then Princess flashed her signal and his relief nearly choked his wands. He followed her to a hill overlooking the air base. Quads from several companies looked incredibly relieved to see him. She hugged him fiercely as soon as his feet brushed the ground and he yelped like a kicked puppy. Somewhere behind him he could hear Prince laughing.
“Where the hell have you been?” his girlfriend demanded. “We saw them dive after you hours ago.”
“It took a while before the shaking stopped.”
“What’s with the X on your chest? Did some dude brand you his bitch?” she teased him.
“Very funny. That’s where the fire burned through my chest plate.”
“They burn your clothes off or are you messing around on me?” she asked, looking him over from head to toe, trying to hide how worried she was. “About time you burned your pubes. Girls should be bushier than boys. Wish you didn’t scorch my favorite wand, though.”
“I thought I died. My entire body feels both numb and super-sensitive. What’s going on here?”
“I think they landed to decide what to do. You apparently killed the commander and the second in command. We sent for our super-quads near Madrid, in case the bastards run. They certainly can’t stay or every militiaman in the country will be here by noon.”
Billy closed his eyes to see the tactical situation from their viewpoint: “Crap. They’re gonna go home and drop their bombs on the first big city they fly over.”
Something hit him in the back of the head. He picked up a very smelly shirt.
“You’re welcome,” Prince shouted.
Billy put on the shirt and walked to his team, hoping the shirt covered his privates and The General. He called his penis The General because it liked giving out orders.
“They’re gonna fly home, so let’s leave them alone and hope they rest a little longer so our troops have more time to catch up. We’ll hide ourselves to the east and hit them when they’ve gotten their hopes up. What’s the next biggest city on their way to Mongol lines?”
“Cuenca.”
“Princess, bring our super-quads near Valencia to Cuenca. Mali, get our guys from Madrid. I’m gonna warn Cuenca’s militia.”
Team Red left, which must have bewildered the Mongols. Everyone in Cuenca looked awake and in a panic. They found the mayor’s beautiful wife eagerly bathing the Baron’s body in lotions and creams in the mayor’s bed while he soaked up his wands in his sleep. It took Blade three kicks to wake Billy from his slumber.
“I just dreamed you were queen-regent of Switzerland after we won the war,” Billy said, trying to shake his head awake. “Our six children are so beautiful.”
Blade couldn’t believe how instantly wet that made her, and changed the subject to not dwell on it. “They’re flying here at maximum altitude in a stacked formation. Our guys just arrived, but no one knows what to do and we let you sleep as long as we dared.”
Billy smiled, because he’d have done the same thing. Bombers spread out in order to drop their munitions, but most of their troops no longer had bombs to drop, so they put the few thousand with bombs under them, while everyone else flew over them in a protective cocoon.
Now Billy stopped smiling, because that was a tough nut to crack. Seven battalions flying on top of each other. He had to hit the bombers, or else they’d firebomb an innocent city. The entire country would then fear the same thing happening to them, and demand the government pull front line troops back in useless static defense positions.
“What are we gonna do, genius?” Prince asked sarcastically. “They expect us to whittle them down from the top. They’ve probably put their highest fliers in the second row to surprise us when we hit the top layer. We just don’t have enough time to get to the actual bombers. If the Spanish blame us, we’ll look like pariahs instead of heroes.”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Think faster.”
“How are we gonna stop them from dropping bombs from high altitude on a city?” Prince wanted to know.
“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”
“You mean you don’t know. Yet. But you’ll think of something. If only to show off.”