by Isaiah Lee
President James Neil appointed Vice President George Lewis to act in his stead while he was at war. In the case of Neil’s death, Lewis would take over as the forty-sixth president. Lewis would be over any and all operations of the Disaster Survival Bunker system while Neil fought. He would be responsible for keeping the fate of humanity in check.
James Neil retreated to room 563 for the last time that night. His wife was waiting for him when the door opened. “Susan…” he began but was cut off.
“You don’t have to say a word,” she said, holding back the current of tears that were ready to burst at any moment. “You are such a brave man, James. It’s no longer about us. I know I can’t be selfish and keep you home when the last remaining soldiers fight for our future.”
James embraced his wife. They had the room to themselves. Their daughters Isabelle and Rachel-Ann were off playing with a couple of the other bunker-kids. It seemed so quiet then, without the girls there to ask why their parents both were on the verge of tears. It was probably better that way. They didn’t need to worry.
“Make sure you tell the girls how much I love them.” He broke down. His body rocked through the sobs as he muffles his cries in Susan’s shoulder. Finally, he regained his composure. “I love you, Susan. I always have. Since second grade when you sat in front of me in Ms. Patterson’s class. I still remember the smell of the perfume you wore then.”
“Rose Pedal,” Susan responded quietly. She was weeping, too. “Don’t talk like that. I know it will probably be a while, but I’ll be waiting right here for you. The girls will be right here waiting for their father. You’re coming home. You’d better make damn sure of that.”
Chapter 32
February 4th, 2019. 0600 hours.
President Neil watched as his more than two thousand soldiers boarded into twenty-four CH-47 Chinook transport helicopters, seven UH-60 Black Hawk warships, and three AH-64 Apaches.
The recommended maximum number of occupants on the CH-47 was fifty-five; the average occupancy was pushed to seventy-eight soldiers. Comfort wasn’t a luxury in war. Mini guns were mounted in each Chinook so that they could shoot from the lowered cargo door on the rear.
Each Black Hawk had room for eleven occupants, pilot, co-pilot, and two gunners. They were outfitted with mini-guns, missiles, rockets, and air-to-air missiles. A couple had been outfitted with carpet-bombs, just in case.
James Neil watched as the three Apaches were checked over and began to fire up. They had been rolled to the massive cargo elevator on the far end of Floor Six. Even though each Apache only held a pilot and co-pilot, they were extremely deadly. Nose-mounted chain guns should intimidate any foe. Any human foe, anyway. If not, there was always the large array of rockets and missiles each were equipped with. If, on the off chance, that firepower wasn’t terrifying enough, the Qspolians could look forward to the special payload each Apache was equipped with.
On the belly of each Apache was a trio of bombs. They weren’t large, but they sure packed a wallop. Each of these bombs – of which were strapped to the Apaches’ undersides – were powerful enough to decimate one of the alien troop-transport ships. Having never been tested properly, it was estimated they could blow one of these transport ships completely in half. It should be enough to incapacitate one, anyway.
One by one, the Apaches roared to life and began their ascent to the surface. Next were the Chinooks. Jason and Karen stood beside the president and watched as they were loaded two at a time onto the cargo elevator and lifted upward out of sight.
Finally, after a time, The Black Hawks were all that remained. An army of tanks, armored personnel carriers, and trucks were left in the bunker. In the case of a direct attack, they might prove enough firepower to protect the bunker. It simply wasn’t feasible to attempt a journey that far in vehicles that were confined to the ground.
James motioned for Jason and Karen to board the last remaining Black Hawk. He quickly followed and gave the order to ready the elevator. The helicopter was pulled into position with a system of pulleys and gears before the lift began to rise.
Slowly, the surface began to materialize. The sun had just begun to peak over the horizon, painting the scattered cirrus clouds brilliant shades of orange and magenta. It was bitter cold but thankfully there wasn’t much wind to speak of to toss the fleet around in the sky.
It would have been a truly beautiful day other than the death and destruction of nearly everything around them. The fog had completely dissipated, revealing the desolate landscape below. Jason and Karen stared in awe out their window at Washington DC. What used to be DC, that is. From first glance, it didn’t appear there could be a living creature within sight.
The Black Hawk, which had been dubbed Air Force One, rose into the sky and joined formation. Radar and sensors indicated there were no enemies nearby. Within minutes, sensors picked up twelve enemies closing in fast. They uncloaked as they neared the fleet, which dropped their speed considerably but freed up necessary energy to operate onboard weaponry.
“Twelve bogies at eleven o’clock,” the pilot’s voice rang out, shocked upon seeing the ships just appear in front of him.
President Neil nodded. “So it begins…Break formation and engage.”
Air Force One began to gain altitude as it pulled away from the pack. Others dropped out of sight almost immediately as they broke formation. The alien ships began to open fire as green fireballs hurled toward them. The first volley missed. Chain guns and machine guns returned fire. Two of the ships erupted into green flames and fell to the Earth.
The remaining ten alien ships looped around and flanked the helicopters from the rear. The Chinooks dropped their cargo doors, exposing the rear-facing machine gun turrets. All twenty-four gunners opened fire in a hail of fire that seven more alien ships couldn’t avoid. Green explosions dotted the sky.
“Hell yeah!” President Neil’s voice sounded over the din. He took over the side-mounted machine gun in Air Force One and opened fire. He trained the gun on the pursuing craft and watched as another exploded. “Take that!”
Jason manned the gun on the other side but there weren’t any enemies in sight. Then he watched as one of the remaining two ships zoomed past him. It loosed a volley of green blasts that connected with one of the Chinooks to his right. The Chinook burst into flames, blades tearing wildly through the sky and shrapnel peppering nearby helicopters.
A Stinger missile found its target moments later as the burning green remains of the murderous ship nearly blinded Jason. It had been much closer than he realized when it exploded. The concussion from the blast rocked his footing as he tightened his grip on the turret.
Karen jumped from her seat and latched onto Jason’s jacket. They hadn’t come this far for him to fall out of the open hatch of a helicopter.
The last alien craft looped back and was about to engage when a Stinger missile quickly dispatched the ship.
James came back to join Jason and Karen. “One Chinook down. Figure eighty casualties right out of the gate.”
Karen shook her head. “No reason to worry about it, now. Yes, they were eighty good soldiers. But they knew what they signed up for. They didn’t die for nothing. They died for the cause. For the resistance.”
James sighed. “That doesn’t make it easier, considering the billions of other lives lost. I guess we ought to just be thankful we still have hope. We still have enough soldiers to mount an offensive.”
“That’s all we can ask for.”
They continued their journey until mountains dotted the horizon. A blue haze lined the jagged edges as mountains came into view, the tell-tale sign of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Soon they reached their destination: Looking Glass Rock in the Pisgah National Forest right outside of Brevard, North Carolina. The mountain is a massive granite mass reaching a height of almost four thousand feet above sea level. As they neared the monolith, part of the exposed rock face shifted downward, exposing a runway of sorts.
Air Force One
navigated into the opening, followed by the other forces. Once inside, the rock face closed again and served as protective camouflage once more.
Within moments, the pilot killed the engines and a welcoming party had formed outside of Air Force One.
“Mr. President!” several voices called out. James Neil opened the door and hopped out of the chopper. He was immediately surrounded by security detail, which apparently consisted of everyone else onboard Air Force One who wasn’t Jason or Karen.
James Neil greeted the commander of PNF1 (Pisgah National Forest One) and was led to a room to broadcast an update to WDC2.
WDC2, so far, remained unharmed, although there had been some movement detected above on sensors surrounding the compound.
James Neil connected to the Disaster Survival Bunker mainframe and read updates from across the country. There were twelve known enemy hubs located in the continental United States. There were little over a hundred around the world. These nests, as they had been dubbed, were places where alien forces gathered to build their numbers and regroup. And probably spawn and multiply, knowing their luck.
No further enemy crafts had been detected in space, at least not by the satellites that were accessible within the survival bunker system’s communicational boundaries; it seemed the only forces left were what had already invaded the planet and gathered into the scattered nests. Reports were coming in of two nests that had been destroyed already in Russia with another currently under attack in Brazil.
Armies worldwide were fighting back with everything they had. World War Three was under way, with casualties increasing by the second. Forces had been assembled in California and were in route to a nest that had formed in Hollywood. Ground troops were inbound in tanks and armored personnel carriers with fighter jets and attack helicopters leading the assault.
“James, what are our orders?” Jason asked, reading over the data on the screen.
He pointed. “Here. There is a nest nearby in Asheville. We’ll gather all our forces and attack full-on.” James picked up a handset from beside the computer and clicked the button on the side. A crackle sounded through the bunker’s loudspeakers. He gave orders to reload, refuel, and otherwise prepare to leave within the hour.
Chapter 33
The granite face on Looking Glass rock slid downward as all forces from PNF1 began to pour out. The helicopter fleet from WDC2, which had now grown quadruple in size with forces from other regional bunkers, poured out of the mouth of the monolith.
Next out were eight F-22 Raptor fighter jets. They blasted from the maw one at a time and cruised until they could all get into formation. President Neil sent the F-22s to a nest near Atlanta. They were to strike swiftly before they could be detected and drop bombs on the nest. Each F-22 was equipped with eight small bombs and an arsenal of missiles.
Bunker PNF2, which was located right outside of Canton, North Carolina, was an underground bunker where nearly a hundred tanks and armored personnel carriers were located. Another thousand soldiers poured from PNF2 and headed toward Asheville when President Neil gave the word. They were to rendezvous as soon as possible.
It was the same scene across the country. All able bodies were nest-inbound; every usable military vehicle was being utilized to its fullest potential.
James Neil furrowed his brow as he leaned in toward Jason and Karen. The helicopter was shut up tight, for now, to keep the frigid air outside. “Once on the ground, we’re going to be split up.” He saw Karen’s expression and stopped her with a hand before she could speak. “I don’t mean you two have to split, I just mean that we are sure to get separated. If I don’t make it, I’m counting on the two of you to stick with the plan. No matter what else happens, these nests have got to be destroyed. It is humanity’s last hope at survival.”
Jason nodded. “Yes, sir.” He rummaged through a pack he’d brought onto the helicopter. There were two small drones, each equipped with a warhead on the tip. There was also a remote-controlled bomb. “The plan is to get inside the nest and blow it from the inside out, correct?”
“Correct. Intelligence states that these nests have been built around a singular alien-based structure or ship; we’ve not been able to tell if it is mobile or something they’ve constructed to be permanent. What we do know is that there have been signals detected coming from the nests.”
Signals emanating from within an alien nest on a foreign planet. Jason didn’t like the sound of this. “Sounds like they may be communicating with their home planet or reinforcements.” The thought sent a shiver down his spine and made the hair on his arms stand on end.
James nodded. “Exactly what we’re afraid of. We’ve got to stop whatever signals they are sending out. We can’t risk reinforcements at this point. Our forces, our planet, wouldn’t survive long.”
Karen squeezed Jason’s hand. “We’ve got this!”
James grinned. “That attitude is exactly why I chose the two of you to carry out this mission. Unfortunately most of our army is comprised of untrained civilians. You’ll have the few remaining soldiers who made it to WDC2 to back you up. The rest of your battalion will be civilian.”
The pilot turned around and gave an ETA of two minutes. In the distance, alien ships zipped above the tree line before retreating back out of view. The landscape was rocky and mountainous with winding roads cut through the dense forest. Where tall buildings once stood in the heart of Asheville, smoking piles of rubble remained.
McCormick Field, the local baseball stadium, now housed two alien ships that had been shot down. It appeared one had crash landed through the blue metal roof and bounced off the rows of seating. The other was sticking halfway out of the brown, snow-dusted grass in the outfield.
The Biltmore House had been nearly demolished. Eerie green blasts from alien ships leveled portions of the nearly 179,000 square feet home. Lawns and gardens, which were once meticulously maintained, were burned and in shambles. Subsequently, Biltmore Village had been annihilated as well. The bustling town, which once stood as a historic village designed by George Vanderbilt himself, was leveled.
“There it is…” Karen pointed out her window. The nest was unimaginably large; it was at least twice the size of one of the soldier transport ships. The nest – which was in fact a ship of some sort – appeared to have crash landed into what used to be the local mall. The concrete and steel monstrosity was nearly demolished, with only portions of the building and two-story parking garage intact. “That’s our way in.”
On the exposed second floor of the garage was an opening into which alien ships were flying. “That must be where they resupply and refuel if they even do such a thing,” Jason suggested. “If we can gain access through that…” He searched for the right wording but failed to find anything that appropriately labeled the chasm. “Well, if we can get inside, we can set the explosives.”
Jason peeked into his backpack again and frowned. “I don’t think these are going to be large enough to destroy that.”
James shook his head. “It’s not enough to destroy the entire structure… err, ship. But hopefully it is powerful enough to knock out whatever communications technology that they’re using.” There weren’t antennas or anything on the outside of the ships indicative of a form of communications. At least nothing that resembled anything manmade.
“Excuse me if I’m out of line here…”
“Not at all,” James interrupted. “Any and all suggestions are taken into account here.”
“Why don’t we just call in an airstrike like you’ve sent to the nest near Atlanta?”
“That’s the kicker...”
“On your mark, sir,” the pilot announced through his headset.
The helicopter began to drop altitude as they neared the nest. The rest of the fleet moved into range and position as James scanned out both sides of the helicopter. Chinooks, Black Hawks, and Apaches had all lined up in a semicircular formation. Guns were trained on the nest – nobody knew of possible weak spots – and
missile pods were readied.
President James Neil spoke into the headset. As if on cue, alien crafts began pouring out from the nest. “Fire!” he called.
Air Force One rocked as the first missiles blasted toward the enemy. James stood and manned a machine gun. “We can’t just bomb the nest,” he said as he trained the gun on an inbound alien spaceship. “PNF6 is located under that fucking nest!”
Chapter 34
Karen was thrown face-first into Jason’s chest as the Black Hawk jerked in the air. The Chinook closest took a direct hit and exploded, raining fire and death from above. Shrapnel – and God only knew what else – peppered the side of Air Force One. She let out a whimper as more explosions sounded from outside. She knew it meant more lives lost.
“Get us down!” James commanded. Air Force One began to drop toward the second level of the parking garage. Another explosion above, followed by an alarm. The pilot’s head dipped limply forward as the helicopter began to spin wildly.
“Oh my God!” Karen screamed. “We’re going to crash!”
Jason braced her body against his and tucked himself into his seat. The deafening alarm seemed to grow louder as their altitude fell. Twenty feet below them was the concrete structure scattered with burning cars and debris. A direct shot blew the gunner opposite the president completely out of his post. His body bounced off the side of the chopper as he tumbled out; one of his legs caught the tail rotor and exploded as the blade disintegrated.
The chopper spun out of control and slammed into the parking deck. Bodies were flung from the wreckage as molten metal littered the site. President Neil’s body was in a crumpled heap inside the wreckage. The pilot and co-pilot were obviously dead; the pilot had been decapitated and the co-pilot’s body was caught under the fuselage.
Jason’s ears were ringing. His head ached and he was disoriented. He realized he was lying on his back. Could he feel his extremities? He attempted to wiggle his toes inside his boots and move his arms. Yes. Yes, he still had control over his body. For the moment, anyway. The odor of burning flesh and fuel filled the air but Jason barely noticed.