The young female commando bolted across the open area between the tree line and rolled off the edge to a foothold below.
“What’d ya think, Sadie, was that cute young lady flirting with me?” said Hank.
He smiled. “Okay, I won’t flatter myself.”
The dissonant humming grew loud and threatening. The Frances-Botis fiend rose up into the starry sky and cried out at both columns of monstrous brutes, “Victory is ours.”
The mob picked up the chant, “Victory is ours. Victory is ours.”
The line of enemy infantrymen rocked forward and back with a tension like a bowstring drawn tight. The villainous voice of Botis sounded the command, “Charge!” The horde of giant enemy soldiers lumbered at Task Force Saber on the cliff’s edge.
Water Walker pushed hard through the swells and the raging wind. The sun had set but the night sky over Cielavista blazed orange and red.
“Tobias, grab our bowline and pull,” said Henry.
The big trawler heaved upwards and sped up to sixty knots. Henry and Beto clung to their chairs as the craft bounded dangerously close to the breaking point. Near the base of Cielavista’s cliff, Henry cut the engine and Tobias released the bowline and Water Walker drifted to the shore.
“The battle has begun,” said Beto. “You can hear them.”
Shots and screams, clashing of swords on shields, shouts and the pounding of men’s’ feet and horses’ hooves.
“Get an update from Tobias,” said Henry.
Beto stood on the deck for a moment. “Our people are evacuating the estate. They will board the boats and sail up the coast to awaiting vehicles. Our fighters will hold off the enemy and conduct an orderly evacuation.”
“Where’s Sandy?”
“On Gabriella’s ledge,” said Beto. “Gabriella has been missing for days.
“Henry,” Beto put his hand on Henry’s forearm, “your son, Hank, is up there. He’s joined the fight.”
“Hank,” said Henry.
Henry guided the boat to the rocky shoreline. The tide was coming in. Henry approached the natural stone dock where the rock went straight down deep into the water. Secured there were all the boats in Cielavista’s fleet—the thirty-two-foot Sea Ray fishing boat, the twenty-three-foot sailboat, and four open Boston Whalers.
Henry called to one of the men manning the granite wharf. “What’s going on, Steven?”
“Oh, Henry,” said Steven, “Where have you been? We need you. We’re at war.”
Henry threw the forward line to Stephen, hopped up on the rock, and secured the aft line himself. The boat’s bumpers banged against the rock.
“What are all these boats for?” Henry said.
“We need them all for our evacuation plan. Every seat on every boat will be needed to get our people from here to the exfil point up the coast,” said Steven.
“The only boat that can take these waves is the Sea Ray,” said Henry. “The others would be swamped the minute they left the dock.”
“I know,” said Stephen. “How many can get on that big trawler?” He pointed at the Water Walker and grinned.
“We’ll get ‘em all on this and the Sea Ray,” said Henry.
“Beto, you stay here on the boat. Fill the gas tank from the five-gallon cans. Unload anything that takes up space. We’ll be taking on about fifty passengers.”
“Right,” said Beto.
Henry stepped into one of the Whalers, untied the lines, and started the outboard engine.
“I thought you said this boat can’t make it through these waves,” said Steven.
“Probably won’t,” said Henry.
Henry guided the Boston Whaler up each wave and slammed down into each trough, jarring Henry’s body with each bound. He motored the open boat around the rocky point to Sandy’s ledge. With the forward line in his hand he climbed over the gunwale, thigh-deep in the pounding surf, and secured the boat to a rock. He jumped up onto the granite ledge and stood across the crevice from his wife.
Henry knew Sandy saw him but she didn’t turn around.
Commander Carlos directed the fight from his fortified position behind the earthworks and revetments. His warriors were successfully degrading the attackers’ ranks with only a few friendly casualties. The savage attackers employed no tactics. They simply charged headlong at Task Force Saber’s fortification, firing their powerful crossbows, hurling stones, knives, swords, and spears. They attacked in waves, withdrew, and attacked again.
“Striker-Charlie, pull back. Begin exfiltration down route Apple,” Carlos ordered.
As one of Frederick’s companies quickly and calmly moved rearward through the protective trench, the three remaining companies tightened their perimeter and moved rearward as planned.
A flight of arrows soared overhead, some burrowing into the earth. Jacob and Antonio fought side-by-side in their shielded gunport and eliminated two charging enemy soldiers. All along the revetments the Task Force Saber soldiers held off the charging animals, but the attackers were getting closer, stepping over the bodies of their fallen fighters.
“Fix bayonets, men!” called Carlos, and he took a stand between Antonio and Jacob with his own bayonet fixed on the end of his M-16 rifle.
“Striker-Delta, exfiltrate now,” Carlos ordered. Frederick’s other company obeyed and slipped to the rear and down the tunnel. Anvil-Alpha and Anvil-Bravo pulled back to the next series of revetments, a tighter, more defensible position.
Carlos could hear the enemy commander’s demonic voice. “Charge the cowards, you maniacs,” Botis howled. The demon-prince clothed in Frances O’Donnelly’s humanness set the woods on fire behind his line so his men could not retreat. They were trapped between the flames to their rear and the lethal gunfire pouring out from Saber’s fortress.
The next desperate wave of giant soldiers stormed the rim of the revetment, and Saber’s warriors engaged them hand-to-hand in primitive steel combat. The smaller Task Force Saber men had the advantage of superior firepower, and the enemy could not breach the wall, but the fight was bloody.
Antonio thrust his bayonet into the throat of one monster and he watched the giant’s eyes bulge out and heard his last bloody gasps. The huge man fell right on top of Antonio. Jacob slung his weapon and leaned over to pull the dead man off his friend, exposing his back to an attacker. The massive brute held his sword over Jacob and plunged it downward, piercing Jacob’s Kevlar vest. Enough of the steel tip found flesh. Jacob whirled upward and caught the man flush in the face with the point of his right elbow. Despite the pain from the wound in his back, he unsheathed his dagger with his left hand and stabbed his attacker in the heart.
“I’ve been wounded,” grunted Jacob.
“Where?” asked Antonio.
“My back. Under my body armor.”
“Commander Carlos,” said Antonio, “permission to evacuate the wounded down the cliff.”
“Take him down,” said Carlos, noticing the blood seeping into Jacob’s pants. “Good job, boys.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The brush fire cut Romano’s unit off from Randal and his nine. Forget them. Romano thought. Randal is an idiot anyway. I have no use for him.
Coughing through the intense cloud of smoke that was snaking through the woods, Romano said, “This way. It’s time for our attack.”
He led his gang of stupefied warriors in a wide circle to the south to skirt the fire and find a position on the flank of the battle. At the top of the cliff, they found themselves a hundred yards from Task Force Saber’s fortified perimeter. The Directorate’s force repeatedly stormed the perimeter.
Romano watched the Frances-Botis fiend soar in the air behind the attackers, shouting, threatening, and when necessary, strangling any of the fighters who tried to run away.
“Ready your bows,” said Romano. “You two stay with me. You four go with Firdos, you four go with Carlene.”
The archers loaded their crossbows with three arrows. Their muscles in their
massive arms were exhausted from arming their weapons, and they struggled to pull back their bowstrings and cock them.
“”Do not shoot until you have a target. You have three arrows, and each arrow must be a kill shot. When you are out of arrows, unsheathe your swords and your daggers.
“We will attack in two units. Carlene, you and your four soldiers will form up on the left and engage the Directorate attackers. You will have the element of surprise. They will think you’re there to reinforce them, so wait until you’re real close before you shoot. Men, you will obey every order Carlene tells you.
“Firdos, you will form your four fighters to the right of Carlene’s. You will storm over FITO’s earthwork there. See the weak point?”
“Yes,” said Firdos, looking over at Carlene. She gave him a somber nod.
“The enemy will be concentrating on the attackers to their front and you will have an easy shot picking them off from their flank.
“Now get ready for the attack.”
When they were in their attack formation, Romano said, “Victory is ours.”
The pitiful, battle-weary soldiers repeated a doleful, “Victory is ours.”
Peter’s scout platoon was screening the northern flank out in front of the embattled fortress. He heard movement in the hedges near the cottage, so he dismounted Cinnamon and crept up on the yard. Ten large enemy soldiers were milling around near the front of the house.
Peter organized his people. “When the enemy soldiers are subdued, approach them, take your zip-ties and secure their hands and feet and duct tape their mouths and eyes. Let’s go.”
Peter’s scouts surprised the enemy giants, surrounded them, and ordered them to kneel. Eight of them insanely charged at the armed warriors and fell to their deaths. The remaining two knelt down and the team secured them for capture.
“How many inside?” said Peter.
“Two,” said one of the enemy combatants.
When Peter burst through the door, he encountered Olivia Kingston and Donald Snow at Gabriella’s dining room table. Six empty bottles of wine sat on the table and each former director had a bottle by the neck. No glasses.
Peter approached, rifle at the ready.
“Ha-row,” Donald slurred. “Wanss-som wine?”
“Ya gonna shoot ussh?” said Olivia.
“Team, come in here and tie up these drunks,” said Peter.
“What should we do with them?” said Andy.
“We’ll use the cottage cellar for a prison. Bring in the two guards. We’ll see what Carlos wants to do with them when this fight is over. We need to get back to our mission. Hurry up.”
“Can we take some wine down there with us?” said Donald.
Sandy ignored her husband standing on the other side of the crevice. There was no room in her emotional cauldron for a reunion with Henry. Not now.
Sandy had a full view of the entire battlefield on her sky-screen and her spirit was rapidly forming orders for her commanders.
Her runners no longer sought the shelter of the tent. The three young messengers were fully aware of the importance of their role in the fight, and seconds mattered. Brian was up on the cliff delivering her latest battle order.
“I have another message for Hank. Who’s up?” Sandy said.
Sam started to step forward, and Althea gently grabbed his shoulder to restrain him. “I got it,” said the young woman.
Sandy leaped across the space and Althea took her place with her pencil and notebook. “Henry, how’d you get here?” Althea said.
Henry just stood silent in the rain.
“No need to write, dear girl,” said Sandy. “Here’s the message for Hank: Kill Goldstein.”
Sandy looked in Althea’s eyes. “Go.”
Sandy glanced over at Henry. The hood of his rain jacket blew up against his head. The open fishing boat came loose from its mooring, flipped over in the white-capped waves, and swirled out into the open water.
Hank watched Althea stealthily creep toward him through the underbrush. In the open space between the pear orchard and the pine grove where he and his men were hiding, she got down on her belly and low-crawled, like a swimmer in a dry pond. She paused in her progress along the turf to grab an abandoned rifle, slung it on her back, and kept crawling.
Only five yards from Goldstein’s attack units, Althea slipped undetected to Hank’s hiding place.
“Message from Sandy,” said Althea to Hank. “Kill Goldstein.”
Hank nodded. “Got any ammo for that weapon?”
Althea extracted the magazine from the M-16, weighed it in her hand, and said, “Feels like maybe ten rounds.”
Robby pulled three thirty-round magazines from his daypack and handed them to the girl.
“Thanks,” she said.
She clicked in the full mag, jacked back the bolt, and put the weapon on safe. She stuck the two extras in her cargo pockets.
“Sandy doesn’t need me on the ledge anymore,” said Althea.
“Team. Gather round here,” said Hank.
Hank’s fifteen scouts including Althea lay prone on the ground with their heads together. Mark, the wolfhound, lay between Althea and Hank. Sadie hung her head down between two of the men.
“Goldstein’s renegade detachment is planning to kill off everyone.”
“You mean he’s turning against his own people?” said Robby.
“The man has no loyalties. He’s a heartless snake.
“We only have a dozen warriors with Carlos defending the fortress. The rest have successfully evacuated, some wounded, most okay. Our mission is to take out Goldstein’s detachment and whatever is left of the enemy force.
“Althea, you will ride Sadie over to Peter. Give him this order: ‘You will be the blocking force at the north edge of the battle area. When the enemy attempts to retreat, take them out. At my command you will attack the enemy force on the field in front of the revetment. My signal will be a yellow flare.’
“We will wait until I determine that Goldstein’s force is at its weakest. He divided his detachment into two squads. One will attack our fort. The other will attack the Directorate’s force.”
Hank gave detailed instructions to each scout and Mark.
“Questions?”
“A prayer, Hank, if I may,” said Robby.
“Yeah, please,” said Hank.
“God brought me to this passage in Nehemiah: ‘Don’t be afraid of them. Remember the great and awe-inspiring Lord, and fight for your countrymen, your sons and daughters, your wives and homes.’”
The scouts lay quietly for a second and let the power of that Word settle on them.
“Okay, Althea, get going and hurry back,” said Hank. “I’ll need the horse to communicate with my angels.”
“Right,” said Althea. Althea gave Hank a warm look, hopped up on Sadie, and disappeared through the trees.
“You think he likes me?” she asked the horse.
Sadie’s long neck bobbed up and down in the affirmative.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Carlos fired his machine gun into the mass of attackers from his protected fighting position in the last ring of revetments. He was satisfied with the progress of the battle so far. Most of his family had safely exfiltrated the battlefield. He still had a dozen fighters with him fending off the waves of attackers. He estimated the enemy was still forty or fifty strong. But the ferocity of their attacks was waning.
The intensity of the hellish fiery cloud over their ranks had diminished. The flaming manifestation of Demon General Botis would leave the battlefield for several minutes at a time. Carlos looked into the night sky and watched as a squadron of Michael’s angels engage the demonic force. They swooped down at the Botis-Frances beast and swiped at it with their swords. Botis would rage upward at them and they soared out of his range.
Carlos noticed that when Botis left the battlefield, Frances became powerless, and the Directorate fighters stumbled into each other, so Botis had to reoccupy Fran
ces and take command.
Brian, one of Sandy’s intrepid messengers, crawled next to Carlos. “Message from Sandy.”
“Hang on a sec, Brian,” Carlos said.
Carlos directed his fire at a group of attackers, took them out, and handed his SAW to Brian. “This is my sector of fire, Brian. Got it?”
Brian took the light machine gun and rolled over into Carlos’ prone firing position. He sighted down the barrel and engaged the attackers.
Carlos took the note from Brian and kneeled next to him. A fresh enemy detachment will be attacking you from your left flank in five minutes. It’s Goldstein. One five-man team will hit your revetment. Another small squad will attack their own infantry out to your front. Goldstein is making a move to eliminate us and all of his own army including their demon-possessed commander. Our scouts are deployed to counterattack them. Hank has a scout platoon to your left front in the tree line, and Peter has another platoon to your right.
Also, Henry is here on the ledge with me. Don’t know how to act!
Carlos gave Brian a slap on the back of his jacket. “Back down the cliff, boy,” he said. “Keep up the good work.”
Brian engaged three more attacking giants with the SAW, checked the sector, and rolled to his left. “One of our messengers has joined Hank’s scout team—Althea,” he said.
“Sounds good. Take care, son.”
Firdos and his men crawled from their temporary assembly area to a depression in the ground where he awaited Romano’s order to attack the fort. He watched Carlene lead her squad across the battlefield in leaps and bounds. He was surprised to see Frances in her former state, pistol in hand, screaming at her flagging infantrymen.
Firdos glanced back over his shoulder at Romano and his two bodyguards as they crawled to a protected position in the rear.
Firdos caught Carlene’s eye when she looked over at him. He knew she was proud of him.
When Frances saw Carlene’s squad maneuvering from her right, she signaled them to charge the enemy revetment, but they kept moving in her direction. Carlene ordered her men to open fire. Ten of Frances’ huge archers crumbed to the ground. Frances turned and shot Carlene in the neck, killing her immediately.
Proof Through the Night Page 27