Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism

by DeCosmo, Anthony

  "And if you are at war you feel your military is a threat to your Presidency?"

  "My ascension to power has not been without….controversy. Over the years my…idealism has created unease in the military and intelligence communities. There are those who might feel that the alien threat could justify the removal of civilian leadership."

  "Are you not in the process of handling this threat? Is that not why you need the assistance of my officers and ships?"

  "For one particular threat, yes, but that does not change the entirety of the situation."

  The Chancellor followed Evan’s thinking: "So as long as this war continues, races such as mine will face a human war machine that will continue to grow stronger and you will face the constant threat of being overthrown and replaced."

  Evan sat behind the President’s desk and folded his hands on this lap. He felt very much at ease there.

  "Now you understand, Chancellor. And if I am replaced the war will go on unchecked, until either the invaders defeat humanity or humanity sends you all back through the runes."

  D’Trayne swerved the conversation around a wrong turn: "Of course, with the right assistance, the forces that have come to your world could overrun this ‘Empire.’ Those who help facilitate such a victory would receive great rewards, even governing authority."

  The growl returned to Evan’s voice as he warned, "Listen carefully, D’Trayne, I am on the side of humanity. I fought against you invaders in the early days. There is alien blood on these hands. I will do whatever it takes to protect the current borders of this nation and if an alternative solution cannot be found, I will authorize whatever measures are necessary to keep this country secure. Do you hear me?"

  D’Trayne bowed his head.

  Evan continued, "The question is, does your side want this to continue? Do you want The Empire to reach out across the oceans? Imagine how our armies on the march could unite the pockets of human resistance scattered around the globe. No extraterrestrial would be safe and even if we could not retake the whole planet, we could really upset the apple cart along the way."

  "But?"

  "But if we reached a negotiated settlement. If we, here in America, agreed to stay within our borders and forget about the rest of the world, would your side be willing to sign a treaty recognizing our right to exist and respecting our sovereignty?"

  "You seek security?"

  "I seek a solution that benefits us both, D’Trayne. Your friends would no longer have to worry about our military knocking over whatever colonies you have around this world. If the war is over, I can snuff out the fire that powers the Generals, making my position more secure and creating a chance for things to return to the way they were before the invasion."

  The alien smiled and his eyes glowed a gentle yellow.

  "You are a wise man, Mr. President."

  "Blessed are the peace makers, Chancellor."

  ---

  Gordon sat on the Lanai watching, for the last time, sunset from his house in northeastern Pennsylvania. He liked the smell of the chlorine from the pool mixing with sound of the gentle wisp of the ceiling fan from the master suite just beyond a pair of open sliding doors. For some reason, it made him think of Florida.

  He heard a beep—the third one now—broadcast into the earpiece he wore that was, in turn, attached to a pocket device resembling one part calculator, one part remote control.

  The higher pitch of the third beep confirmed what he expected: the generator shed would be their first target. At that point, he figured, they would execute a dynamic entry via multiple points, certain to include the front door and most likely either the garage or the Lanai. The fact that they had yet to nail him with a sniper round while he sat there easily visible through the glass confirmed another of his suspicions: the assassins meant to deliver a message, no doubt some sort of glib victory speech, the type of thing one would expect from Evan Godfrey.

  The last rays of sun dipped below the horizon. Gordon stood and strode away from the table and into the master bedroom where the ceiling fan turned. He closed the dual sliding doors and knelt next to the wicker dresser across from his bed. There, hidden in a corner, he opened a small electronic box, the contents battery powered for just this type of occasion.

  Near the box rested a stack of CDs. Gordon examined the labels, made his decision, and tossed all but one aside. He grinned and slipped the disc into a slot on that electronic box while whispering, "I hope you I.S. pussies like classic rock." Of course the transmitter did nothing; not yet. Like the rest of Gordon's toys, this one would wait for his command.

  Next he stood and opened a silver cabinet mounted on the wall above the dresser. From there he pulled a loaded Benelli M4 shotgun. The pouch Omar had given him a few days ago was also in the cabinet. He took it and tied it around his belt.

  The ceiling fan stopped, the lights went out, the house went dark.

  Game time…

  …A wooded knoll rose above the cluster of homes where Gordon lived. On that knoll stood Ray Roos, peering down toward the soon-to-be-ex-Intelligence Director's home through a pair of night vision binoculars. Even with the artificial illumination he could not see much.

  A Witiko officer stood a respectful pace behind and to the side of Ray. Further back, two Witiko Skytroops.

  Roos did not like Evan Godfrey's order for a message to be delivered to Gordon Knox's dying ears. Still, he would follow the boss' commands as long as those orders did not put his own neck on the line. If that happened…well, Ray always believed in options, particularly when protecting his ass.

  Ray did not think Evan realized exactly how dangerous Knox was. Roos, on the other hand, spent years working at the estate, overhearing conversations, and getting to know the people there as part of his role as Evan's mole. He knew exactly how dangerous Gordon Knox was and how well connected. Only Roos' listening devices, the intercepting of intelligence reports, and other acts of cover up had managed to keep Knox from discovering the plot to whack Trevor Stone. Even then, maintaining the secret ranked as a minor miracle, no doubt one Knox could eventually undo if allowed to live.

  Roos raised a walkie-talkie and transmitted, "I said go, you boys listening?"

  "Copy that, Control. All points entry in three…two…one…"

  …The front door to Gordon Knox's single-story home burst open. Two men dressed in black and wearing night vision goggles moved inside with silenced Mp5 machine pistols at the ready.

  On the far side of the home, one panel in the glass Lanai smashed and a small object the size and shape of a hockey puck bounced across the tile surrounding the indoor pool. That object exploded in a flash of light that would have blinded anyone in the room.

  A second later, more of the glass shattered and a third commando burst into the sunroom with yet another Mp5 searching for Gordon Knox.

  The three intruders spoke with each other and their 'Control' via headset transmitters.

  "This is Huey, west room clear, proceeding south to clear next area."

  "Duey and Louie splitting. Taking garage and master bedroom."

  "Control copy, boys. Exterior looks clear. Target still inside."

  'Duey' turned left from the foyer and cleared the small dining area. From there he reported, "Duey here, clear so far, moving south toward garage."

  "Copy that."

  At the same time, Louie moved right from the foyer, slowly opening and entering the master bedroom through one of that room's two entrances. His night vision scope saw the open metal cabinet, a neatly-made bed, and closed double doors that led to the inside pool area, but no sign of the target.

  "Louie here, master bedroom all clear. Looks like we got a gun cabinet that's empty. Proceed with caution. Moving west to pool area in case target doubled back."

  "Copy that, Louie."

  The commando who had entered through the Lanai—Huey--moved slowly across a leisure room in the southwest quadrant of the home. He then approached the closed door to the guest bedroom,
one hand reaching for the knob while the other steadied his weapon…

  …Duey walked into the garage. That area appeared as pitch dark as the rest of the home…until Gordon Knox flicked a switch on his remote control and activated a battery-powered security light.

  The sudden glare blinded Duey. He fired his silenced weapon at the glow—thwump, thwump, thwump--shattering one of the two bulbs even as he instinctively turned away from the blinding glow and directly into the barrel of the Benelli. Gordon pulled the trigger. The powerful shotgun blast killed the man instantly, sending him—light body armor and all—flying backward.

  "All points, check in," radioed Control at the sound of the shot.

  "Louie, pool area clear."

  "Huey, in southwest bedroom, no sign tango."

  Knox could have exited his home through the garage door and made a clean getaway, but he decided more work remained to be done. He returned inside. As he walked, he balanced the shotgun with one hand while pushing another button on his remote control. He felt a sense of satisfaction that years of paranoia finally paid dividends.

  That other battery powered device—the hidden electronic box--sprung to life. This one did not radiate light but, rather, radiated sound…

  …Ray Roos stood on the knoll with one hand holding the binoculars, another holding his radio. That radio burst into static then it burst…it burst into…into music.

  "In-a-gadda-da-vida, honey,

  Don't you know that I love you?

  In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby,

  Don't you know that I'll always be true?"

  …The commando codenamed Huey moved from the extra bedroom into the dinette area with the goal of getting to the garage. He meant to radio Louie to meet him there, but when he activated his transmitter he could only hear music. Rock 'n roll, in fact.

  "Control? Louie? Anyone copy? I've got interference!"

  Gordon Knox approached the confused killer from behind and drew a hunter's knife across the man's throat. Knox held him up as he gurgled last words, arms flailing as if shimmering to the sound of classic rock playing over his headset.

  "Never send I.S. pussies to do a man's job."

  The assassin went limp. Gordon thought the fellow might yet be of some use…

  …Ray stared at the radio. The music continued to play, overriding any message to or from the entry team. For that matter, the team might already be neutralized.

  The Witiko officer leaned toward the radio and questioned, "What is that?"

  Roos answered truthfully, "Iron Butterfly," while his eyes focused on the dark and—seemingly—quiet house. At that point, the Director of Internal Security decided to up the ante. He turned to the Witiko officer and nodded. That officer, in turn, waved to his Skytroops.

  Both aliens stepped forward and activated their jetpacks. With a hiss of thrust, they leapt into the sky, more jumping than flying across the two hundred yards between the observation point and Knox's house.

  The first landed in a crouch on the beveled roof adjacent to the glass-enclosed Lanai. The second went further, dropping to his knees as he landed hard above the front entrance. He hopped down from the roof to the stoop, raised his long alien Gatling gun-like rifle, and stepped through the battered doorway.

  The first Witiko smashed through the glass Lanai and dropped alongside the pool. In reaction to the darkness, the alien activated a small visor on his helmet. Instead of seeing the room in shades of light, the Witiko's visor saw the room in shades of heat.

  He walked around the pool to a set of closed double doors. While balancing his gun in one hand, the Witiko slid one open. His visor immediately spied the glowing orange and yellow heat signature of a human being. It took a half-second for his gun to whirl to speed and spit a volley of low-caliber projectiles: the Witiko favored quantity of fire over stopping power.

  The heat signature bobbled side to side absorbing the rounds…but did not drop or flee.

  Confused, the alien retracted his visor. In the darkness he saw a man standing like a rag doll. No, one man holding another man…

  BOOM.

  Knox's shotgun blasted the befuddled alien, sending his big silver body to the tile floor of the Lanai with a metallic clang. Gordon then let go of the dead commando he had used for a human shield…

  …The second Witiko heard the shot. He walked quietly toward the master bedroom's inner door. Meanwhile, the last remaining human assassin—Louie—left Gordon's den and proceeded cautiously into the kitchen area on his way toward the front of the house…

  …Roos paced back and forth on the knoll. The Witiko officer eyed him but said nothing.

  The Director of Internal Security considered his third and final option if the Witiko team did not complete the job. That third and final option would require a cover story about fuel tank ruptures and a house fire. Thankfully Knox lived in an isolated locale. That would give Roos the time and latitude to paint a picture for any parties who took an interest in the 'accident'.

  He tapped his thumb impatiently and waited for a sign…

  …There were two ways into the master bedroom, one being through the double doors from the Lanai where the body of the first Witiko now lay. The other a smaller door leading toward the foyer. Gordon crept in that direction with the aim of sweeping through the living room and toward the kitchen.

  He opened the bedroom door and took one step. An alien hand slammed down on his shotgun, spinning it from his grasp.

  Gordon did not hesitate, but neither did the Witiko, who tried to bring his own weapon to bear. Knox managed to get one hand on the end of the barrel and another near the stock. They grappled in a test of strength between two evenly matched competitors.

  First, Gordon pushed the alien into the wall. A framed and autographed University of Miami Hurricanes #55 Jersey with the name "Ross" on the back fell and cracked.

  Next, the Witiko grunted and turned the tables, swinging Gordon into the wall. This time no collectibles fell but Gordon saw movement out the corner of his eye: Louie the commando stopped at the kitchen archway and stared across the wide open living room at the struggle.

  Knox broke the stalemate with a solid knee to the stomach of the alien. The enemy crunched over but did not relinquish his grip on the rifle. Gordon admired his foe's strength and determination, but the intent had not been to wrest the gun from the soldier. Instead, Gordon wanted access to the Witiko's back.

  It surprised the Witiko to feel Gordon let go of the gun. It surprised him even more when Knox pulled a wire on the alien's jetpack. The rockets ignited in a brilliant blast of orange fire and sent the silvery humanoid across the dark living room like a giant bullet. With his arms flailing the alien slammed head-first into the bewildered I.S. commando, pushing him and the Witiko into the kitchen area where they crashed into a counter. The fuel from the jet pack ignited and a small explosion spread through the front of the house…

  …Roos saw the sign he waited for: the flash of something big detonating inside Gordon's home. He considered it possible that the explosion meant Gordon Knox just died, but the instinct that had served Roos so well since the onset of Armageddon told him that was not the case.

  Writing off both entry teams, Roos waved his hand at the house and told the Witiko officer, "Fuck it. Blow it all up."

  The officer sent a signal via a wrist-mounted communicator.

  High above the quiet cluster of homes nicknamed "Knoxtown," a ship about twice the size as Gordon's house broke through the clouds with running lights off and its profile invisible to the radar net protecting northeastern Pennsylvania.

  Ray gazed skyward until he spotted the shadow of the Stingray descending. He heard the gentle roar of its rocket propulsion and began contemplating a series of cover stories should any witnesses catch sight or sound of the approaching ship. If need be, D'Trayne's people would take the fall by playing the role of renegades seeking revenge. Hopefully it would not come to that, but Roos and the Boy Scouts shared the same motto: always be prepared
.

  The alien ship dropped to five hundred feet and hovered. Roos watched as a highly focused energy beam cut across the night above the treetops and directly into the home where Gordon Knox made his last stand. The crackling glow of the weapon cast the landscape in a soft illumination next of kin to moonlight. Roos thought it a beautiful sight.

  Slabs of roof jumped off the home, walls collapsed, and flames engulfed everything.

  If only, Roos thought, Evan had not been so egotistical in his revenge, we could have just done this from the start.

  Still, Roos knew the cover story for the explosion would require planting evidence, bribing someone to come forward as a witness, yadda, yadda, yadda. Yes, it would have been better if the team put a bullet in Knox's forehead and disappeared the body. As it was, Roos would have to go in after the flames died down, pull out the remains of his men and the Witiko, and—most important of all--identify Knox's cadaver, because Ray Roos would not sleep until he knew for sure Gordon Knox no longer lived.

  14. Beach Front

  Jon sat at the head of the table in the mansion basement feeling relieved that this would be the last meeting in a week of meetings.

  Joining him at the table were Phillip Rhodes—newly appointed commander of Stonewall's 2nd Mechanized Division of Virginia-- General Cassy Simms of the 1st Mechanized Division, General Casey Fink leader of the 3rd Corp currently stationed in Texas, General Shepherd who commanded the 1st Corp from HQs in both Colorado and California, General William Hoth of the Philippan which hovered in New England, and Captain Woody "Bear" Ross, commanding officer aboard the Excalibur, currently involved in a training mission in Georgia to be followed by a trip to the Pittsburgh shipyard in July.