by John Ringo
After one look, she went with her lizard hindbrain and ran as fast as she could.
“Well, we found it,” Graham said. “We’ve lost two teams trying to get a good look at it; FLIR doesn’t seem to be enough with this thing. NRO even lost a computer system trying to get a look at it. The image processors froze. But we found it. The question is what we do about it.”
“Well, I’m Asatru, but even we know when to run,” Janea said. “I’m sure as hell not going to try to hack it to death with an axe. Maybe if I had a couple of really strong fighting bands that wouldn’t go crazy or be swayed into worship. But not by myself.”
“Is there any plan?” Barb asked.
“If we can get a lock on it, we can drop JDAMs,” Master Sergeant Attie said. “But we can’t even get a team in that can hit it with a targeting system. We lost a Predator driver, satellite systems lock up…You were right. This thing is insanity on a thousand legs.”
“We need to do something,” Randell said. “It apparently has some concept of direction. It’s moving-slowly, fortunately-in the direction of Goin. But who knows where it’s going to end up.”
“Where are the women and what’s their status?” Janea asked.
“In Knoxville at a sanitarium,” Graham said. “They still appear to be in contact. They’re not talking from it at present, but they are calling for it to come to them.”
“Is Goin on the route to Knoxville?” Janea asked.
“Yes,” Randell said. “Why?”
“That’s your answer,” Barb said, nodding. “It’s not going to Goin. It’s going to where we have its ‘maidens.’ Without the maidens it can’t create the Children. Is it eating?”
“Apparently,” Graham said. “A team checked out the slaughterhouse when they were sure it was gone. There were a lot of bones, most of them chemically charred. And they’ve found a few cattle that it found on its route.”
“Once it breeches the SC perimeter it’s going to be Katy Bar the Door,” Janea pointed out. “Somebody needs to make some decisions. Fast.”
“The answer was in the Sending,” Barb said. “This is a test of our faith. The only way that we’re going to get rid of it is to express our faith as a nation in a really convincing way.”
“That ain’t going to happen,” Randell said, shaking his head. “I mean, what do you want the government to do? Get the president on national television and ask everybody to pray to Jesus to drive a demon from our land?”
“Pretty much,” Barb said. “Doesn’t have to be Jesus. Just God in whatever form people wish to worship. God is love, remember? But I’ll bet you dollars to donuts that’s the only thing that’s going to work.”
“That is unlikely to happen until all reasonable methods have been tried,” Graham said. “We’ve got a lot of firepower. We need to try that first.”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Janea snapped. “Firepower is not going to stop this thing.”
“How do you know?” Randell asked. “We haven’t even been able to try.”
“Because…God said so?” Janea said, angrily.
“God’s never tried a JDAMs,” Randell answered, hotly.
“Look, if somebody can explain this JDAMs thing to me and it’s not too complicated, I can get a lock on it,” Barb said. “Looking at it under FLIR at the slaughterhouse was not too bad. I don’t want to try to tell you what looking at it with bare eyes was like. But I can look at it.”
“We can set that up,” Master Sergeant Attie said, nodding. “You don’t even have to get close. And one of the systems has a built-in FLIR. Probably best to use that.”
“Yeah,” Janea said. “On the fuzziest setting it’s got.”
“You sure you want to come along?” Barb asked as they headed to the helicopter.
“I’m Asatru, and I ran and didn’t even look back,” Janea said. “I’m feeling a little weak in the goddess region. So, yeah, I want to go along. For that matter, if I can look at this thing and not go mad, I’d appreciate being the one to order down the bomb. It’s sort of directing violence, which is up there for my goddess with having good sex.”
“You got it,” Barb said as she climbed into the Jet Ranger.
“If you ladies are buckled in?” the Army warrant asked.
“Pilot, are you briefed in on this?” Barb asked after donning headphones. “You can’t get near this threat. You cannot get in direct view. If you happen to make a mistake and get too high, don’t look at it.”
“We’re briefed in, ma’am,” the pilot responded as the helo climbed for height. “Your LZ is a clearing on a secondary hilltop. The mission target is a hill that should both overlook the threat and protect us from sight. May I ask a question?”
“Go,” Janea said, rereading the manual on the targeting system.
“May I ask why I can’t see it?”
“If you weren’t told then you don’t have the need-to-know,” Barb said. “But don’t get curious. On your life, don’t get curious. I’m deadly serious.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the pilot said.
“Well, here we go,” Janea said, looking at the woods in distaste. “Have I ever told you how much I prefer cities?”
“I’ve gotten that impression,” Barb said, grinning. “Let’s head up the hill.”
“FLIR,” Barb said as they reached the military crest of the hill.
“Oh, you betcha,” Janea said.
The device they were carrying included a telescope. But it wasn’t necessary to spot the Gar. The leprous monstrosity was slowly working its way down the road below. As Barb watched, it plowed into a house, leaving a splintered wreck in its wake.
“Oh, dear Freya aid,” Janea said, softly.
“You going to be okay?” Barb asked.
“I’m not sure that’s correct,” Janea said. “But I’m not going insane now. Don’t ask me about tonight.”
“Let’s get this set up,” Barb said, taking off her pack.
The target identifier was essentially a larger version of their headsets with a laser system and a GPS. By lasing the target it got a distance, direction and change of altitude. With that information it knew the precise location of the target and would automatically communicate that to whatever system was used to bring down the firepower, artillery, MLRS or JDAMs from aircraft.
“Don’t look at it with clear eyes,” Barb said. “But you need to take the FLIR off to target this thing.”
“Got it,” Janea said, taking off the FLIR with her eyes closed and fumbling forward to get her eye on the scope. “Damn…it’s a lot harder to look at with this thing. It’s more close up.”
“Still okay?” Barb asked.
“Hanging in there,” Janea said in a strained voice. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Roger,” Barb said, picking up a microphone. “Wildcat Four-Four, Wildcat Four-Four, this is Sierra Charlie One…”
“Don’t look at the ground,” Lieutenant Aaron Yin said bitchily. “What kind of stupid order is that?”
“It’s an order,” Captain Brandon Lovell said, banking his F-16 around to the east to keep in the target basket. “So don’t look at the ground.”
“Wildcat Four-Four, Wildcat Four-Four, this is Sierra Charlie One.”
“Roger, Sierra Charlie,” Captain Lovell said.
“Our device says it’s connected, Wildcat.”
“Roger, ma’am,” Lovell replied. “Got a good lock on your box.”
“Why Wildcat, I didn’t know you cared,” another female voice answered. It was a very throaty contralto, and Lovell had a sudden serious desire to meet the owner of the voice.
“We are doing target upload at this time,” the first voice said with a touch of asperity in her voice.
“Roger, have target data,” Lovell said. “Drop permission on file. Release.” His F-16 rocked a bit as the thousand-pound bomb dropped off its wing, but he corrected automatically. He’d dropped literally hundreds of JDAMs over Iraq and Afghanistan. “Twenty seconds t
o impact.” He watched the countdown clock, then started counting. “In ten…five…two…Impact.”
“Roger, Wildcat. Good drop. On target. Standby.”
“Sierra Charlie One, status of target,” another voice asked. Lovell looked at the connection data and blanched. It read: AF Six. The Chief of Staff of the Air Force was on the line.
“Negative effect,” the ground spotter said.
“Not a Freya-damned thing,” the contralto added. “This is stupid.”
“Retarget, Sierra Charlie,” AF Six said. “Wildcat, full ordnance drop on acquire.”
“Retargeted,” Sierra Charlie said a moment later.
“Positive acquisition,” Lovell said. “Wildcat Mission, full ordnance drop. Ordnance away.”
“RTB, Wildcat,” AF Six ordered.
“What the fuck did she mean, negative effect?” Yin asked over the local frequency.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Lovell said, banking his fighter around and heading back to base. “Ours not to question why…”
He paused as there was a scream from Yin’s aircraft, and looked over at it. Which was fortunate because his wingman was banking hard towards him and about to midair.
“Son of a bitch,” Lovell snapped, banking into a barrel roll. “Yin, what the fuck?”
“Wildcat. Status,” the air combat controller called.
“Wildcat Four Two is in OOC,” Lovell said, turning to look at the descending aircraft. Yin was in a flat spin and still screaming. “Tardis, punch it! EJECT, EJE…”
Then his eyes glanced to the ground.
Barbara shook her head as the spinning F-16 slammed into a distant mountaintop and exploded in fire.
“Lord, please send me the power to destroy this thing,” Barb whispered fiercely. “There are many faithful in this nation. Would You ignore Your Chosen because of those few who are blind? Please, Lord, give us Your mercy.”
“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Janea said, flipping down her FLIR and picking up the target designator. “I think you’re getting Stern God on this one. Very Old Testament. Jesus need not apply. Believe or be damned.”
“I think you might be right,” Barb said. “And I’m not sure which way we’ll hop.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“There is BDA from the site,” the Air Force Chief of Staff said over the video link. “Are you sure you actually hit the target? The bomb craters looked as if we were just bombing an open field.”
“Oh, they hit,” Janea said nastily. “But they didn’t have any effect. They blew up real nice. And it didn’t even slow the Gar down. It was like it wasn’t there.”
“If you’d been looking at it, you’d think we were bombing a hologram,” Barb said. “That’s a demonic effect I’ve seen before. Bullets just go right through, and then it hits something and destroys it. Don’t ask me how it works; it’s metaphysics.”
“That wasn’t the worst part,” Janea said bitterly. “ I was looking through the scope. It brought its captives with it. Even they were protected.”
“How many?” the NSA asked.
“Five, I think,” Janea said. “Those we couldn’t grab at the slaughterhouse. And, honestly, if I’d been one of them, as I almost was, I’d have preferred the bombs worked on me. I’d be thanking you from Hel.”
“You think you’re going to hell?” SOCOM asked. “You’re a priestess.”
“Hel, H-E-L,” Janea said, rolling her eyes. “It’s where Asatru go that don’t die in battle. Sort of like Christian limbo. Just a boring place.”
“That is interesting but not getting us anywhere,” the NSA said. “Suggestions.”
“The faith of the nation is being tested,” Barb said, tightly. “That’s the bottom line. We are not going to be able to stop this thing absent God’s aid. And He is being, as Janea pointed out, Old Testament. We either prove that we still retain faith in Him or we might as well be doomed now.”
“I hate to ask this, but nuclear weapons?” the NSA said. “It is on the table.”
“Then you’d just have a radioactive pissed-off Old One,” Janea snapped. “You’re not getting it. There was no effect. None. It’s insubstantial to most things. But it can affect its environment if it chooses. I strongly doubt that plasma is going to help, no matter how much you throw at it. There are references to these things inhabiting stars. That’s more firepower than we’ve got, buddy.”
“Janea,” Barb said.
“No,” Janea said. “I’m tired of being looked at like a freak because I believe. Well, get this straight, you stupid suit bastards. Get with belief, now, fast, or this country, this nation, this continent and this world is doomed. Get that through your fat politician heads, for Freya’s sake. I don’t care if you believe in the White God or Odin or fricking Vishnu! Just get some faith, fast, or find somebody to do your job who has it!”
“Janea,” Augustus said. “Your passion is understood. But try to be a bit less Asatru for a moment. NSA.”
“Go,” the NSA said, his jaw working.
“We need to move this discussion to the next level,” Augustus said. “And I strongly recommend bringing in the SC Onsite team, passionate as one of them may be.”
“I will take that under advisement,” the NSA said balefully. “Break this down.”
“Well, that was fun,” Janea said, starting to take off her headset.
“Miss Janea,” SOCOM said as soon as the other leadership was off the line.
“Yeah?” Janea answered, settling her headset back on.
“I was wondering if, assuming we get this situation under control, you might be in the Tampa area any time soon,” the admiral said, his face blank.
“Is that a palpable hit, admiral?” Janea purred. “You’re kinda cute for an older guy.”
“Ahem,” the admiral said, clearing his throat. “I appreciate the compliment. But actually…I’d like to talk to you about this Asatru thing. Any religion where the prime requirement is to die in battle…interests me. And all this is sort of giving me religion. Possibly over dinner?”
“Assuming we can kill this thing, it’s a date,” Janea said. “In fact, kill it or not, it’s a date. ’Cause we might as well have fun while the world is consumed by evil.”
“I don’t get where a bunch of people praying are going to help,” Randell said. “Does God need the power? I thought He was all-powerful.”
“No,” Sharice said. “He doesn’t need the power.”
There being effectively nothing to do but wait for doom, absent a miracle, the FBI agents and the cave team had gathered at the SC house. Most of the rest of the groups in the area were packing up as fast as they could. Most of them still didn’t know why, but the panic was palpable in those who did.
“I’m Wiccan, but I fully recognize the power of the White God,” the old witch said, taking a sip of tea. “Whether the White God was, is and ever shall be or not, He is immensely powerful. He could bat the Gar like a fly. A gnat. A mite.”
“So what’s with the ‘the nation must have faith’?” Randell said angrily. “He’s just going to let us die?”
“He might as well,” Janea said, shrugging. “When Ragnarok comes, people are going to have to choose sides. If this nation can’t get its act together with the threat of the Gar…” She paused and frowned.
“What?” Barb asked.
“The Old Ones are neutrals in the battle between our side and the infernal,” Janea said. “And the US is the most powerful nation on earth. If your God, all the gods, are questioning which side the US will come down on…”
“Surely we are not so far gone,” Barb said, her face white.
“This is a pretty good test,” Janea said. “And if we’re so far depraved that we would side with the infernal in the final battle, He can take us out of play by giving us to the Gar. For that matter, it’s probable that the infernal and the Old Ones don’t get along any better than the gods and the Old Ones. It gives the demonic a serious thorn in their
side.”
“That is sick,” Randell said. “See, this is why I hate God.”
“Why?” Janea said. “I think it’s brilliant. If we can’t even get it together to face the Gar, we’re sure as Hel not going to get it together before the hosts of the giants. This is a pretty easy and straightforward test. Can we muster enough believers to make a difference? Or are we useless to Him in the final battle? Hel, in the old days He’d have dropped fire from heaven on us for being too far gone. This time we get the Gar. How many Lots can America muster? There’s going to be more than one family, but are there enough?”
“‘And the beast shall arise from the endless depths…’” Barb said, frowning. “Actually, the Gar is sounding a lot like the Antichrist.”
“I thought it was ‘sea,’” Randell said.
“Bad translation,” Sharice said. “More like ‘from complete deepness.’ Apparently, King James had a thing with not liking the ocean. ‘From the sea’ was close enough to ‘from the deep,’ so that’s the King James version. He had about two hundred scholars working on the translation, but he had final approval on the text, and they were…aware of certain political realities. It’s beautiful verse, but there’s a lot of stuff like that in it. ‘Suffer not a witch to live,’” she added a touch bitterly.
“What’s the actual translation of that?” Master Sergeant Attie asked.
“That’s a bit debated,” Sergeant Struletz said. “It’s got two variants even in the oldest texts, one of which wasn’t available to King James’ scholars, and you’ve got to remember that even that is from oral tradition. One variant is something that translates sort of as ‘she who poisons.’ But that one was written during a period when arsenic was just being widely recognized as a poison, and all the kings, and you’ve got to remember that it’s always kings who got these things written, were really down on posioners. The other is more like ‘she who uses black magic to kill.’ Definitely a woman. Definitely one with powers that are poorly understood. One translation is more or less ‘she who is a fish.’ Which makes no sense.”