Captain Butler was puzzled by the fact that Howard did not use lethal force to defend his estate. His best guess was that Howard never thought he would need to kill anyone on his property. His defenses were more than adequate to keep intruders at bay, but the fact that Howard wasn’t willing to use deadly force would end up being the one weakness Butler could use to his advantage. Butler quickly learned the maximum effective range of the sentries the hard way. Rubber bullets zinged past him as he and his men quickly ran out into the field behind the mansion. Butler estimated that the sentries had a maximum effective range of between one hundred fifty and two hundred yards. Just to be on the safe side, he set up shop at the three hundred yard mark. He ordered one of his snipers to take out the sentries, but the effort proved ineffective. The sentries had the same force fields protecting them.
"Top, what are you thinking? I'm open to suggestions."
"Well, sir, it’s obvious that we can't storm the distance to the back door. We could use riot shields to cover ourselves, but when we make it to the wall, we have no way in."
"Munitions?"
"Worth a shot."
"Get a team of grenadiers up here."
"Roger that, sir." First Sergeant Bankhead quickly followed orders and assembled a team of four men with M32 grenade launchers. Each weapon could fire six forty-millimeter grenade rounds.
"Awaiting your orders, sir," said the team leader.
Captain Butler had to decide on a target. The door and windows would most likely deflect anything they had. "Let's see what we’re dealing with here," Captain Butler said, tapping the helmet of the soldier in front of him. “Fire one round at left side door."
The soldier took aim and fired one round at the door leading into Howard's kitchen. Nothing happened. First Sergeant Bankhead was watching the door with binoculars.
"Top?"
"Sir, the round hit the force field and ricocheted."
"Just as I thought. I want all four of you men to fire at the wall just to the left of that same door. On my mark," the four men quickly took aim, "Fire!"
Nothing happened.
"Top?"
"Sir, I didn't see anything hit the wall."
"Nothing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Men, open your breaches for inspection." The four men quickly followed orders. Captain Butler nodded to his top NCO, who took each weapon and conducted an inspection. He dropped the spent shells and examined the remaining rounds.
"Sir, the weapons are all working perfectly with live ammunition."
"Curious." Captain Butler paced back and forth and came up with a theory. "Men, prepare to fire at the same target on my mark. Top, don't look at the target, I want you to watch the sentries on the roof for any activity."
"Roger that, sir."
"Ready, fire!"
The same thing happened as before; each man fired a round at the wall just to the left of the door. Again, none of the rounds hit the target. Captain Butler looked to First Sergeant Bankhead for a report.
"Captain, those damn sentries up there are doing something, I can't tell what. They swiveled around and moved rapidly from side the side."
"Did they fire anything?"
"No, sir, not that I could tell. They definitely did something to stop the rounds."
"Men, reload your weapons." The four soldiers quickly took rounds from their vests and loaded their weapons to capacity. "On my mark, I want you to fire all of your rounds at random targets along the wall; do not hit the same target twice. Ready, fire!"
The four soldiers unloaded their weapons at the back wall of Beck Estates. A total of twenty-four rounds were fired, not one of them hit the wall.
"This mother fucker is pissing me off now," Captain Butler said with much disdain. “You men are dismissed."
"Time to call in the big guns, sir."
"Top, you are absolutely correct. Command has been kind enough to dispatch a fighter jet for us to do with as we please. We have to be careful though; the big man himself wants the estate intact with as little damage as possible."
"You mean General Green?"
"No, First Sergeant, I'm referring to our Commander-in-Chief."
"I'll be damned, sir. I had no idea."
Captain Butler smiled and placed his hand on the shoulder of his top NCO. "Top, you and I do this thing right, good things are in store for us, I assure you."
"Outstanding, sir. I'm proud to be in this with you."
"Matt, the feeling is the same. Now, let's get that crazy old coot out of his house. Load everybody up and fall back a half mile to the north. I'll wait here for you. When the last man is out, drive my truck around and pick me up."
"I wish I could see the look on the man's face when he thinks we’re giving up and leaving."
"I couldn't agree more, Top."
Captain Butler stood perfectly still and surveyed his target. If military history had taught him one thing, it was that every stronghold eventually fell to invading forces. It was only a matter of time, determination, and resourcefulness. Every castle, every fort, every bunker was eventually breached. If it took hours, days, or even years, if one man wanted to take something from another man, it could be done. Butler could hear his truck coming around to pick him up. First Sergeant Bankhead pulled up right next to the captain so all he had to do was open the door and sit down.
"I'll see you soon, Howard." Captain Jackson Butler waved towards the mansion, climbed aboard his truck and left.
**********
Howard Beck was sitting at the control panel in his secure sub-basement having the time of his life. He was playing a real-life video game with actual, real-life soldiers with guns. Howard couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would actually be able to test the defenses of his estate. He gave Hal instructions in the game of chess they were playing with Captain Butler. When Butler would send in a few pawns, Howard defeated them with ease. He laughed and cheered when he sent the captain himself running as fast as he could across the north lawn to escape the rubber bullets ricocheting around him. Howard had purposely fired a round straight at the captain's ass. Butler fell to the ground and quickly got up, limping away with both hands on his bottom like a little boy who’d just been spanked.
"Hal, let's hope the good captain gets the message. In case he doesn't, fire a head shot at anyone approaching the back wall."
"Sir, I must inform you that such a move could result in serious injury, possibly death."
"I'm aware of that, Old Man, thank you."
"I understand, sir."
Howard watched as a wave of a dozen soldiers took off at a full sprint toward the back door of his home.
"Take your time, Old Man. I want a few of them to make it to the back door."
"Yes, sir."
Howard watched the monitor as the soldiers slowly dropped to the ground. Every one of them remained motionless. "Life signs?"
"They are all alive, sir. Two of them suffered severe trauma to an eye."
"To hell with 'em, they'll live. Maybe Butler will get the message and leave."
Howard looked at the monitor and saw that three soldiers had made it to the back door, out of the field of vision of the sentries. "Good job, grunts! Oh my! Whatever are you going to do now? Maybe if you knock on the door and mind your manners I’ll just open up and let you in? Oh no! Don't do that! Might sting a little!"
The three soldiers looked at each other in confusion. They studied the back door leading into the kitchen. One of them tossed a rock at the force field. The field shimmered and deflected the rock with ease. They looked at each other, silently arguing over which one of them was going to touch the force field.
"Come on now! One of you has to do it! Draw straws or something, hurry up!"
The argument ceased and the unlucky loser walked over to the force field. He raised his rifle and tapped the barrel to the field only to be
met with a severe shock. He dropped his rifle to the ground and danced wildly around, flapping his hands in pain.
"Told you not to do that!" Howard laughed and sat back in his chair, quite proud of himself. "It's okay little boys, run away now. Make sure to get your friends on your way out. "Hal, if you would be kind enough to allow them to leave and let them collect their unlucky friends from the battlefield."
"Of course, sir."
"Well, Captain, what do you have in store for me this time?" Howard studied the monitor and could see Captain Butler and First Sergeant Bankhead deep in discussion. Bankhead quickly ran over to a group of soldiers and returned with four men carrying very large guns. "Hal, what are those guns? What do they do?"
"Sir, they are M-32 grenade launchers capable of firing six forty millimeter grenade rounds in revolver fashion."
"Very nice, Captain Butler! I'm impressed! Hal, you ready to play baseball?"
"I am, sir. It is after all, my favorite sport."
"Let's have some fun with them. He's probably going to fire a round or two at the force fields. Let him hit the field so he thinks he has a shot at hitting the wall. Everything else, you're free to take a turn at bat."
"Yes, sir."
Howard watched with growing excitement as Captain Butler attempted to fire explosive rounds at his home. The sentries on the roof caught every round mid-air and dropped them to the ground. The sonic repulsors worked exactly as Howard had designed them.
"What now, Butler? What else have you got? Ready for round three? Let's see what you got!" Howard studied the monitor and watched the four baffled grenadiers shuffle away. The two soldiers were clearly discussing their next move. Suddenly, the First Sergeant ran away and the soldiers quickly loaded up their vehicles. Captain Butler stood idle in the middle of the field. Howard hoped the captain was planning his next move. As Howard waited in anticipation, a truck pulled up next to Butler. His adversary waved goodbye and left.
"Oh come on! I was having so much fun! You can't leave now! This was just getting interesting! Jackson, my boy, you disappoint me! I can't believe you would give up that easily!"
"Sir, all of the forces have retreated. They have taken up position a half mile away."
"Really? They aren't leaving? What are you up to, Jackson?"
"Sir, my drones have detected an incoming aircraft. It's an M-16 fighter jet."
"What? He isn't going to…"
"The jet has locked onto us, sir."
"Can you stop it?"
"No, sir, my system will not be able to stop a large projectile traveling at high velocity."
Howard watched in horror as a missile was fired from five miles away. He searched the sky for a telltale sign - a flash, a trail of smoke, but saw nothing. In his secure panic room, he felt the foundation of his home rumble like an earthquake had hit.
"He can't do this! This has gone too far! This is outrageous!" Howard's face reddened as he stood up and threw his chair into the monitor. “Noooooo! They can't do this! They can't! THIS IS MY HOUSE!"
"Sir, my security robots will be able to keep enemy forces at bay for a short time. Their defeat is inevitable, however. The robots are not equipped to deliver lethal force. We need to make preparations to leave the estate."
Howard was furious - furious at himself for not designing a security system that could defend his home against armed invaders. The thought of dead bodies littering his estate was something he could not comprehend. Howard was not superstitious enough to believe in ghosts, but he couldn’t be in a room that had once played host to bloody corpses. Howard picked up his chair and set it upright. He was not giving up.
"It's not time to leave just yet, Old Man. We can do this."
"What would you like me to do, sir?"
"Kill the lights. I want it black as midnight in every room in the house. Deploy the maintenance robots and have them coat the floors with cleaning solution. Then turn on every faucet and flood the floors. That should trip them up and make it hard to get around."
"Yes, sir."
Howard's mind was racing faster than it ever had in his entire life. His genius IQ of one hundred ninety-five was his greatest weapon. He had no doubt that he would prevail.
"Disable the fire suppression system and fill the first floor with natural gas. They fire a weapon in there and they’ll regret it. Turn up the sound system as loud as it will go, and play some heavy metal from the 1980s. I don't want them to be able to hear each other; blow out their eardrums."
"Yes, sir."
"We have anything that would work as a toxic gas or something like, uh, tear gas?"
"No, sir, we do not."
"Can you improvise something?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Blast the heat as high as it will go. How hot can you make it?"
"Most of the kitchen has been destroyed, leaving a large section exposed to open air. If the walls were intact, the thermostat could reach one hundred and fifteen degrees. The amount of fresh air ventilating the kitchen and throughout the house prevents that high of a temperature. The maximum temperature possible will fluctuate between ninety and ninety-five degrees."
"Do it."
"Yes, sir. A large contingent of troops is entering the kitchen."
"Send in the security robots. Hopefully they will fire off some rounds and spark the gas."
Howard anxiously watched the monitors as his instructions were being carried out. Most of the first floor was covered in soapy water. Howard had the volume muted but knew the sound system was playing music at a deafening level. The security robots entered the kitchen and began firing rubber bullets and tiny barbs that would shock the troops with electricity. The sparks from the darts were not sufficient enough to ignite the gas, but that didn’t matter. The first soldier to fire his rifle ignited the gas, and the soldiers were blown from the kitchen out onto the lawn. All the robots on the first floor were safe from the fire; however, each room on the bottom floor was now ablaze.
"Let it burn for a few minutes to kick up some smoke, then engage the fire suppression system."
"Yes, sir. Another wave of troops is approaching the kitchen."
The next wave spilled into the kitchen and broke up into three man teams. They struggled with the soapy water and engaged the security robots in battle. Most of the troops were quickly incapacitated by the rubber bullets being fired at their heads. Slowly, one by one, the security robots were disabled by continual shotgun blasts from soldiers who had successfully found cover.
"Sir, your efforts will not be sufficient in repelling the invading force. A much larger contingent of soldiers is approaching the kitchen. I must insist that we leave the estate."
"I'm afraid you’re right, Old Man. It’s time for us to head to the Castle."
"I am sorry, sir. The escape pod is ready to launch whenever you are ready."
"Very well. Transfer yourself to the escape pod, Hal. I want your primary cores destroyed immediately. Leave the security measures in place. I want them to sweat their asses off in the dark while their eardrums burst to Quiet Riot."
"Very good, sir. I will carry out your instructions immediately and meet you in the escape pod."
"I'm on my way, Old Man.”
**********
Captain Jackson Butler and First Sergeant Matt Bankhead stood in the same spot as before, observing as the waves of soldiers entered the kitchen. Captain Butler watched in horror as the first wave was blasted back onto the grounds in an explosive eruption of body parts. He would make Howard pay for that. He sent in the next wave and listened over the radio as they battled the same security robots that led him and Top out of the library. The second wave suffered greatly at the hands of the robots but in the end, a few of his soldiers managed to disable them. With the robots out of the way, he sent the last and largest waves of soldiers into the kitchen to secure the entire estate.
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