World War Forever (Highway To Armageddon Book 2)

by Harold Bloemer

  Krystal cuts Montgomery off in the middle of his monologue to ask, “So if we’re not needed to take out the secret service, why the fuck are we going down there in the first place?”

  “For propaganda purposes, my dear,” Montgomery explains. “We need the American people to think that you risked life and limb to invade the White House tunnels. Our aerial cameras won’t show us waltzing in behind the first wave of soldiers, of course. They will start filming us once we arrive at Klaxton’s bunker. That way it’s heavily implied we took an active part of the assault. The cameras will continue to roll as we storm the bunker and Klaxton executes her ‘imposter’ on live television.”

  “I can’t wait to kill the cunt,” Klaxton says with relish, greedily rubbing her hands together.

  “Freak,” Boom Boom mutters under her breath.

  “It is unfathomably imperative that America, and the entire world for that matter, realizes the four of you are now working together, as a united force,” Montgomery rambles on, slowly making eye contact with me, Boom Boom, Krystal and Klaxton. “It must be shown that Angela and the teen bounty hunters who destroyed her presidency have put aside their past differences and are now working together to thwart a far greater threat… Chinese occupation and subsequent extermination. If the American People see that Angela and her so-called ‘hated foes’ are now on the same page, it will energize the entire country. The image of you four standing side-by-side, towering over the slain body of the inept leader who brought our great nation to the brink of catastrophic collapse, will be a lasting symbol that lives on forever in American folklore. Hell, it could be on the cover of future history books. It will be one of the defining images of American history. Of that I have no doubt.”

  “I’ll have what you’re drinking,” Krystal cracks.

  “With all due respect, I think you’re over-hyping this, Mr. Secretary,” I say.

  “I don’t think so,” Montgomery says sharply, clearly perturbed that we don’t see things in the same grandiose light that he does. “What happens next will be a turning point in world history, not unlike the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941, when America was thrust into combat against the Axis Powers, or the bombing of Fort Sumter in 1961, when America was plunged into a catastrophic Civil War. When we take out LeBeau, we will either be ushering in a new golden age for our country… or ensuring our cataclysmic downfall. There will be no middle ground. Either we win the war against the Chinese… or our great nation will perish from this Earth.”

  “I’ll definitely have what you’re drinking,” Krystal cracks again. This time she manages to provoke a grin out of Montgomery. He isn’t entirely humorless.

  Once Montgomery finishes his oratorical ‘motivational speech’, we start to load up on weapons and armor. I sling a machine gun over my shoulder and hook several gas and flash grenades to my utility belt. I also grab a new pair of night-vision goggles. (The electricity to the White House tunnels will be cut, so we will be fighting in total darkness. This will work to our advantage, of course, as the hapless secret service agents won’t even know what hits them.)

  After we’re all armored up, we kill some time in the entertainment room, shooting the breeze with Becky and some of the other soldiers. Klaxton sits at a table with a pad of paper, scribbling notes. Apparently she’s working on some sort of speech she plans to give upon assassinating her former vice president. Montgomery goes into a private office to call Audrey. When he emerges 20 minutes later, his eyes are bloodshot. The call seems to have gone just as traumatically as I assumed it would. I’m just thankful I’m not the one who had to break the news to her.

  At 4:30pm Montgomery gathers us all up and leads us outside to the airstrip. I’m stunned to find half a dozen helicopters landing all around us. Several space-plans have arrived as well. Dozens of scary-looking elite soldiers disembark from their choppers and surrounded Montgomery. Klaxton greets several of the soldiers, some of whom she seems to know quite well.

  Montgomery introduces me, Krystal, and Boom Boom and proclaims he’s delighted we’ve agreed to join their cause. Most of the soldiers scowl at us. As they’re hardened Klaxton supporters, I suppose the hatred is somewhat justified. After all, we did sort of help cause all this drama in the first place. But the scowling subsides somewhat as Klaxton takes the stand and vouches for us, basically saying that the past is in the past, and the only thing they can change is the future. And with those final words of optimism, we all pile into our planes and choppers, with robotic mosquitos buzzing around above our heads.

  Boom Boom, Krystal, Montgomery, Klaxton and I all climb aboard a brand new space-plane. Becky and some of the soldiers in the compound join us as well. We wait on the tarmac as the other helicopters and planes take off first. We’re the last plane to leave, for obvious reasons. Our plane holds all the ‘precious cargo’, as Montgomery seems to be fond of saying.

  The majority of our flight is spent in tense, eerie silence. It’s so bizarre being one of the handful of people on the planet who know something’s about to occur that will alter the course of history. The more I think about it, the more I realize Montgomery was right. If we succeed in taking out LeBeau, it will be talked about for generations to come. Hell, people still talk about the assassinations of Lincoln and JKF, the former of which happened nearly 300 years ago, and the latter of which happened two centuries ago. After all the crazy shit I’ve gone through over the past several years, you would think there’s not much that could make me nervous. Certainly not a mission that figures to be relatively easy. I’m probably not even going to get shot at! Still, I can’t help but shake the nervous energy cascading throughout my body. Being an accomplice in the assassination of a sitting American president is as big as it gets. The aftershocks of such an event will be felt for decades… centuries, even.

  I look up and watch Montgomery pace back and forth down the center of the cabin. He’s wringing his hands and constantly glancing out the space-plane’s various windows, muttering to himself. He seems even more nervous than I am. That makes me feel relieved I’m not the only one second-guessing our insane mission. Montgomery has done way crazier shit in his life than I have. If he’s nervous, I have nothing to be embarrassed about.

  I glance up at the front of the cabin to find Klaxton hunched over in her chair, right outside the cockpit. She’s scribbling something down in her notepad, hard at work fine-tuning her speech. I guess I see the importance of addressing the American People immediately after killing the president on live TV, but I still think it’s absurd more attention is being focused on the subsequent ‘verbiage’ than the actual deed preceding it.

  I turn to my right to find Krystal sprawled out in a chair, snacking on some chips while watching one of her trashy reality TV shows through her goggles. I will always admire Krystal’s astounding ability to ignore pending catastrophe and chaos and immerse herself in a TV show. Very little phases her. She’s an anomaly among mankind.

  I turn to my left and watch Boom Boom keeled over in her chair, her head lowered between her knees, deep in thought. Her right leg is bouncing up and down, which she always does whenever she’s feeling nervous or jittery.

  I grab Boom Boom’s left hand and quietly say, “You okay, Firecracker?”

  Boom Boom jerks her head up, as if she forgot where she was for a moment. She glances around, then looks directly into my eyes. She seems frazzled and unfocused, which is quite understandable after everything we’ve been through… after everything she’s been through. I need to remember Boom Boom’s experience in the Amazon has been far more traumatizing than my own. (And my experience was no walk in the park, let me tell you.)

  Boom Boom licks her cracked lips and says, “Er, yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m just…”

  “Scared?” I say.

  “Kind of,” Boom Boom admits. “Not for our safety. We’ve gone on way crazier missions than this one. I’m just terrified what the world is going to look like tomorrow, once word reaches the far corners of the globe th
at LeBeau is dead and Klaxton is back in power. I mean, come on, Lance, you have to admit this is all so fucked up.”

  Boom Boom glances around again before lowering her voice. “We’re helping a woman we hated and despised less than 24 hours ago, a woman we all fantasized about killing, and we’re going to help her kill the sitting president of the United States. This is stuff you don’t even read about in novels because the plot would be too ludicrous to believe!”

  “Well you know what they say, fact is often far stranger than fiction,” I say.

  Boom Boom scoffs and cracks a rare smile. “You pick now to become all poetic and literary?”

  I shrug. “What can I say, deep at heart I’m a hopeless romantic.”

  Boom Boom’s grim smile widens. “You continue to astound me, Lance. Even after all this time.”

  I pat Boom Boom’s shoulder and say, “I know how you’re feeling. Trust me, I feel the same way. But LeBeau has left us no choice. She’s putting the entire country at risk with her insane, pacifist policies. I guess it’s true what they say, insanity creates strange bedfellows.”

  “Actually, I don’t think anyone’s ever said that,” Boom Boom says with a furrowed brow.

  “Well then I’m saying it.”

  Boom Boom chokes out a muffled chuckle and pats my knee. “Look Lance, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you as of late. I know you’re having a tough time. I should have been more understanding about your addiction.”

  I wave her off. “No Boom Boom, you were absolutely right. I never should have started doing all that hard shit. Funny thing is, I don’t even crave it now. I guess getting beaten to a bloody pulp and surviving countless near-death experiences makes your brain forget how much it craves the pain-numbing effects of illicit drugs.”

  “Just promise me that when this is all over, and we’re safe and sound back home, that you won’t start up again,” Boom Boom says seriously.

  I look Boom Boom dead in the eye and say, “I promise. All I want is to go home and see the kids. I can’t wait to climb into my own bed and…”

  I trail off as it suddenly dawns on me that we no longer have a home. Those Neo-Nazi bastards blew it up.

  Boom Boom seems to read my mind. “We’ll find a new home. A better one. Maybe we can move into Audrey’s penthouse. I’m sure we can convince Klaxton to give us some money as compensation for all the shit we’ve done for her. We can move to Sanctuary 32 with Audrey… start over… finally live a life of peace.”

  “That sounds absolutely amazing,” I say.

  We finally arrive at the capitol about quarter til six. I peer out the window at the ‘decoy’ White House above ground. All the lights in the window are out, as are all the street lights. Montgomery had said several EMP bombs would be detonated overtop the White House. It would appear those detonations have already occurred.

  As we begin our descent toward the ground, I notice all the helicopters and space-planes that departed before us have already landed. Dozens of bullet-riddled bodies are scattered all over the White House lawn. Upon closer observation I realize they are secret service agents, dressed in their trademark black suits and dark sunglasses (which double as computerized visors). I don’t see any of our soldiers. It would appear our side has yet to suffer any casualties (the key word being yet).

  As soon as we land, the hatch door slides open and a ramp extends down to the lawn. Becky and the other soldiers dash outside with their guns drawn. Montgomery cocks his machine gun and says to us, “Stay on high alert. This is definitely one of those situations where it’s best to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  “Ohh, I love these kinds of situations,” Krystal says gleefully, barging outside with her machine gun.

  “Your friend is mentally disturbed,” Montgomery says as he follows after Krystal.

  “You have no idea,” I mumble as Boom Boom and I exit the plane behind him. Klaxton is the last one to leave, her machine gun slung over her shoulder like some sort of menopausal badass.

  Montgomery leads us to an underground tunnel near the rear of the ‘decoy’ White House. As we jog across the lawn toward the tunnels, we’re forced to side-step some of the hemorrhaging bodies littering the landscape. One of the agents is still breathing, moaning in agony. Klaxton points her gun at his forehead in passing and blows his brains out.

  “That’s what happens to people who betray me,” Klaxton growls as she swings the machine gun back over her shoulder.

  “Remind me never to piss her off,” I say to Boom Boom.

  “I think it’s too late for that,” Boom Boom points out.

  Becky and all the soldiers accompanying us are the first to enter the downward-slanting tunnel. Montgomery stands to the side to allow me, Boom Boom, and Krystal to enter next. Klaxton follows behind us, with Montgomery bringing up the rear.

  The tunnel is dark, but there are dim flood lights near the floor that provide some illumination. They must be powered through a back-up generator that managed to avoid the brunt of the EMP blast. But even if the flood lights weren’t on, we’d be able to see. Our night-vision goggles make our surroundings look as bright as day, with the notable exception of everything having a green hue to it.

  As we descend down the tunnels, we’re occasionally forced to step over more bullet-riddled bodies. Like aboveground, most of these bodies belong to LeBeau’s security detail. We do come across a few bodies, however, dressed in military fatigues. Those, of course, are our people. They have given their lives so that we may succeed. To ensure their deaths actually mean something, we must succeed. Failure is not an option.

  After what seems like forever, after we enter side-tunnel after side-tunnel, and side-step body after body, we finally come across dozens of soldiers huddled in front of a massive armored door. This is the door to the real Oval Office. This is the entrance to LeBeau’s private bunker.

  The soldiers step aside in the cramped hallway, allowing me, Boom Boom, Krystal, Klaxton, and Montgomery to make our way to the front. One of the robotic mosquitos drops down near my ear, its miniature camera focused on the bunker.

  “Are the cameras rolling?” Klaxton whispers to one of the soldiers.

  The soldier nods and says, “Yes, ma’am. We’re ready to roll.”

  Klaxton nods back and says, with a slight quiver in her voice, “Knock the door down. Take out whatever agents are inside. But do not harm LeBeau. She’s mine.”

  The soldier replies, “You and your friends need to step back, Madam President. LeBeau and her inner circle are not going to go down without a fight. As soon as that door comes down, bullets will start flying.”

  Klaxton pushes us near the back again. I step on my toes and do my best to peer over the shoulders of all the troops standing in front of us.

  One of the soldiers steps toward the bunker door wearing a pair of goggles that look strikingly similar to the ones Alex had been wearing. A split-second later I realize why they look familiar. Two blinding laserbeams eject out of the glowing lenses and slam into the armored door. The soldier moves his head in a rectangular motion, just like Alex did when he blasted down Grenade’s cell door at Ramirez’s compound. Once the lasers go all the way around, the door falls backwards and lands with a thud.

  A split-second after the door collapses, a hail of machine gunfire erupts out of the bunker and rips the goggle-wearing soldier to shreds. He screams in agony as his intestines spill out of his stomach.

  “Oh god,” Boom Boom says, looking away.

  The rest of the soldiers respond with a howl of fury. Smoke bombs and flash grenades are thrown into the bunker with impunity. Multiple blinding bursts of light illuminate the doorway, followed by tendrils of smoke. The soldiers then begin filing into the bunker, their guns a-blazing. The gunfire lasts for about twenty seconds. Piercing screams fill the air. Then, just as suddenly as the cacophony of gunfire and agonizing screams started, they come to an abrupt end.

  The fifty or so soldiers who remained in the hall step aside,
allowing us to make our way back toward the bunker. I stop right outside the door, staring down at the puddle of blood oozing out into the tunnel. Smoke is still billowing out of the doorway, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was in the beginning.

  Becky emerges from the bunker and nearly bumps into me. She glances over at Klaxton, who’s standing right behind me, and flashes a victorious smile.

  “LeBeau is inside, Madam President. She’s on her knees, begging for her life. All of her inner circle are dead. You and the bounty hunters can proceed.”

  “Thank you, Becky,” Klaxton says, the triumph in her voice unmistakable to detect.

  Klaxton puffs out her chest and marches into the smoke-filled Oval Office like a woman on a mission. It’s obvious she’s playing to the cameras now. I look up and, sure enough, a dozen mosquitos are hovering overhead, their cameras pointed directly at Klaxton as she steps over all the dead bodies spilling blood onto the Great Seal Rug in the middle of the Oval Office.