Pantheocide

Chapter Thirty Nine

Over Los Angeles, California

“Just where the blazes is he?” Commander Mike Wong pulled his F-18H around, allowing its radar to scan the volume over Los Angeles. An older radar would have been swamped with returns, so many aircraft were crowding into the airspace over the City. But, the AESA radar could cope with the workload and, in any case, they had a E-3 AWACs up controlling the air battle. Or what would be the air battle if they could find somebody to battle against.

“Not up here, Squid.” The voice on the radio was gently mocking. An Air Force pilot taking the opportunity to goad his naval equivalent.

“Cut the unnecessary chatter.” The controller in the AWACs bird snapped the order out. “We’ve got enough to do making sure you hot-shots don’t fly into each other.”

“Say again, Coronet, he’s not up here. All contacts are accounted for. He’s got to be on the ground. Unless he’s already made a run for it.”

“Negative on that Dolphin-One. Ground reports the attack is still continuing, First deaths are being reported now.”

Wong’s mouth twisted as he pulled his F-18 into another turn. The theory was that the deaths from a Uriel attack would be exponential, a mere scattered handful at first but picking up numbers quickly as people’s strength gave out. “If he is on the ground, he could be anywhere. We’ve got a real problem here.”

Aboard E-3G “Coronet”, Over Los Angeles

It was lucky Coronet had just arrived from the upgrade facility with her new displays and data processing computers. She’d been sent to Edwards for testing before the rest of her kind were pulled in for similar upgrades. Now, even the advanced data handling capability was being strained as far as it would go.

“The Squid is right, Sir. He just isn’t up here. He’s got to be on the ground somewhere.” Captain John Lacrosse stared at the displays showing the aircraft orbiting Los Angeles. He had a strange feeling that he was looking at Uriel’s location right then, but he just lacked the insight to dig the answer out of the data. “Colonel, let’s assume he is on the ground right?”

“We can take that as being pretty definitive.”

“Well, he usually flies over the target but he’s learned that’s just too unhealthy for him. So, he’s going to do the next best thing. Find himself some high ground and look down from there.”

Colonel Findel thought that one over. “Do we know Uriel’s capability is line-of-sight?”

“Do we know it isn’t?”

“The DIMO(N) network location on the portal just said Los Angeles, it wasn’t specific as to where. I don’t think its accurate enough for that. Uriel’s down there somewhere. Even on the roof of a building.”

“Doubt that Sir. Everybody with a heavy-caliber hunting rifle would be shooting at him. What we need is a display that shows us where the effects of the attack are being felt. That’ll give us an idea. Problem is, we can’t do it. Our equipment isn’t set up that way. Now if we had a JSTARS here it could be different. They’re built to give land pictures.”

Findel stared at the displays of the fighters circling the city, then glanced down at the brilliant lights of the city below. Finally, the penny dropped. “We have got a display, we’ve got the biggest one ever built.”

The communications center was a few feet further forward from where he was standing. He took the few paces needed and patched through to the emergency control center on the ground.

“Report center? We need help up here. Uriel’s grounded and we can’t find him. We need to know what parts of the city are under attack and which ones are not…… Yes, killing the lights in the unaffected part of the city will do fine. Just a minute or two should do it.”

Down below, the lights covering more than half the city winked out. The E3Gs electro-optical system recorded the picture and by the time the lights came on again, the image was displayed in the airborne command center. The computers had superimposed a map on the image. Findel looked at it. Everything north of a line from Pico Rivera to Culver City was blacked out. So was everything east of a line from La Habra to Huntington Beach.

“So it is line of sight.” Captain Lacrosse was relieved that his guess had been right. “And the only place that can give us that pattern is here, Hacienda Heights. If he was on Beverly Hills, he’d be hitting the whole coastline, not just this segment of it. And if he was south by lake Irvine, we’d have more coverage east. It has to be Hacienda Heights. All we need is to flush him out.”

“We can do that. If we assume he’s in an unpopulated bit, it has to be around here, by Turnbull Canyon. Get those two Bones on the line. We won’t flush him out, we’ll blast him out.

Harvelles Blues Club, 4th Street, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, California

People were weakening, slowly but surely. Fantasia could see it and feel it within herself. The animals weren’t doing so well, a tank of fish had already died and were floating on the surface of their aquarium. The reptiles were doing just as badly, the snakes and lizards were dead or dying. Looking around, she could see the dogs were doing best but even they were in grave distress, drooling helplessly and whimpering. There was a distinct pattern, the animals that bonded best with humans were surviving, those that did not were dying. As her drinks tray was refilled, Fantasia had a flash of insight, was the time-honored alliance of man and dog a relic of the time when both had sheltered together against the fury of a Uriel attack?

She was suddenly aware that her vision had almost dimmed out completely and she was on the verge of fainting. That would be certain death. She forced herself to breath deeply, sucking oxygen into her lungs and echoing the beating of her heart in her mind. Up on the stage the band was still playing but the drummer had peeled away from the score and was now tapping his drums in a fair simulation of a heartbeat. Fantasia focussed upon the sound and imagined her heart beating in time to it. The fuzzy gray from her vision cleared slightly.

“You OK Fanny?” The barkeep’s face was a waxy white-gray with sweat beading his forehead and lips.

“Yeah, think so, just slipped for a moment there.”

“Well, don’t do it again.” The mock severity was as near as anybody could get to being funny. “Your customers are getting thirsty out there.”

She was halfway across the floor when the whole room seemed to shudder. That’s all we needed. An earthquake. But, the rolling thunder wasn’t like any earthquake she’d heard. In fact, it wasn’t like anything any American city had ever heard.

Israeli Army Road Block, al Za’im, West Bank

“Turn back, can’t you see the Scarlet Beast is down there?”

The Israeli sergeant commanding at the road block tried to wave the truck down. His men were setting up their machine gun to stage a last-ditch defense of this point against the beast that was now barely a kilometer away. Husni al-Sohl brought the truck to a halt and wound down his window/.

“Let me throught. I am of Hamas and this truck is loaded with explosives. I can hurt that abomination much more than you.”

The sergeant did a double take at the words. Not so long ago, the words would have caused the truck to be raked by machine gun fire. “You’ll never get close enough.”

“I will. Just put my foot down hard. I have the explosives on a simple dead man’s switch, It’ll work. And Sergeant, there are two RPG-7s in the back and a dozen rockets. Your men will need them.”

Al-Sohl felt the truck rock as the soldiers scrambled into the truck bed and unloaded the rocket launchers. He heard on of them whistling. “Just how much explosive is in the back of this thing?’

“Six hundred kilos of the best anfo Hamas can make. And another two hundred kilos of nails. Iron nails.

“Be careful you could damage the suspension carrying that lot.” The sergeant grinned at al-Sohl then snapped out something almost unknown in the Israeli Army, a reasonable approximation of a decent salute. He and his men held it as the truck drove through their checkpoint.

The Scarlet Beast had moved some more and was across the highway that led east from Jerusalem. Al Sohn floored his accelerator and headed straight down the road at the great monster that was carving a swathe of destruction through the valley leading up to the city. He had his windows up tight and the air conditioning turned off, hoping that the seal would be enough to keep the strange dust the Whore was using to wipe out those who stood against her. The truck was shaking and shimmying on the rough road surfaces, for all Toyota’s efforts, their pick-up trucks just didn’t have the strength and stability of the Dodge and Chevvy rivals. The speedometer continued to click upwards and by the time the Beast and its rider responded, it was too late for them to stop the manned missile that was being aimed at them.

Dumah blew her stream of smoke at the racing truck and al-Sohl lost sight of his target as the gray fog enveloped his cab. He felt his lungs seizing up as the poison took hold, but he was close enough now and his last conscious act was to release the dead man’s switch in his hand. Around him, the picture of the inside of his truck shrank to nothing, a tiny white dot in the center of his vision.

Al-Sohl saw strange things, weird shapes, strange colors, indescribable things that he forgot as soon as he saw them. Things that no human mind could ever recall because they were swamped out by the great white glow as the tiny dot in his vision swelled up and filled his vision. It changed, dimmed slightly then resolved into white and gray shadows. He blinked, his eyes slowly recovering and the shadows started to make sense. The white glow was lighting, the shadow was a woman bending over him. A nurse.

“Mr al-Sohl? Husni al-Sohl?”

He tried to croak out an answer but all he could do was to nod his head.

“That’s wonderful. We’ve been keeping an eye open for you as the dead came through. The Israeli Army asked us to.”

“Did I kill the Beast?” The voice was still a croak.

The nurse hesitated. “No, but you hurt him badly enough that he broke off the attack to recover. That bought enough time to evacuate more civilians from the area. Your sacrifice saved a lot of lives, tens of thousands of them. You’re quite the hero you know. We’ve even got some virgins who’ve volunteered to come over and give you a proper welcome.”

Presidential Palace, Naypyidaw, Myanmar

“You let us down!” Than Shwe’s voice was accusing and peevish.

Michael-Lan stared down at the ridiculous figure with something close to disbelief. “Pardon?”

“You promised us you’d help us with the war against the Siamese. Now we will have to run, spend the rest of our lives in exile because you failed us.”

“If you think I promised you anything, little humans, you are sadly mistaken. I merely pointed out that the opportunities that were there for you. If you can’t turn them into reality, then that’s your fault.”

“You owe us! We have been together for years, we closed our country off from the world so you could come here in peace.”

“You were well paid for your services. Do you think I do not know how high were the prices you charged for your goods? And how low were the values you gave me for the jewels and gold you got in return.” You are really, really pathetic, thought Michael, as if I, an archangel owe you anything or should treat you as anything more than humble menials. It is you who are duty-bound to us, not the other way around. We owe you nothing. Michael-Lan reflected that he rather liked humans but their constant demands to be treated as equals were wearing.

Still, despite these people’s whining, they had done him proud on this trip. The power-assisted cart that he was using had been piled high with highly-refined number four heroin and huge numbers of methamphetamine tablets. They’d said they were cleaning out all their stocks and that appeared to be just what they had done. Even with his own literally superhuman strength augmented by the electric motors on the cart, he had difficulty overcoming the inertia of the huge cargo. It really was very, very heavy.

“Here, despite your rudeness, I have a final payment for you.” Michael-Lan fished inside his robes and tossed Than Shwe a large bag, one stuffed with precious stones Michael had ‘liberated’ from Yahweh’s palace. “They are a generous payment.”

Than Shwe counted the stones, running them through his fingers. “Generous indeed. And they will have to be now our country is collapsing before the Siamese Army. Our exile will be a long one.”

Michael-Lan raised his eyebrows at the whining voice, then jerked hard on the cart to get it around the corner that led out of the storeroom into the corridor that led to the outside of the palace building. At least, when the palace had been built, they’d had his bulk and size in mind so the corridors were high and wide. That made maneuvering the cart much easier. Michael reflected that the cart really was remarkably heavy.

Israeli Navy Submarine “Tekuma”. Eastern Mediterranean

“The news is still bad?” Captain Alex Ben-Shoshan was almost hoping nobody would hear the question so he wouldn’t get an answer.

“Very bad. The Scarlet Beast has broken into Jerusalem. It is laying waste the city and destroying all that is sacred there. The Whore of Babylon spreads her contamination across the city and none survive its poison. The Whore protects the Beast while the Beast destroys and together they kill everything. The dead already number in their hundreds of thousands. ” The Executive Officer on the submarine took a deep breath and stabilized his voice. The news from Tel Aviv had been shocking, the city had fallen, surviving humans were streaming away from it in great columns. For the first time in the Salvation War, a human city had fallen to the netherworlders and its population reduced to panicking refugees.

“What about our allies? Is there no help coming for us?”

“General Petraeus is sending aid, at least a corps of his army. But he must assemble them first, they are spread all over Hell, trying to stabilize the situation there. Then he must open a portal, move them through and get them ready to fight. By that time, there will be little left of us to save.”

Ben-Shoshan sighed. The eternal strategic curse of Israel, the country was simply too small. All its vital areas were packed closely together and an attack on one could hardly avoid damaging the rest. If the Scarlet Beast and the Whore finished destroying Jerusalem and then moved to the country’s heartland, it would all be over.

“Is there any word from Tel Aviv? Do they have orders for us.”

“Yes, Captain. For us, for Dolphin and for Leviathan. We are to prepare for Operation Masada immediately. We are designated as the prime shooter with the other two backing us up. We must destroy the Beast before it moves out of Jerusalem. Authorization to fire can be expected very soon. Tel Aviv says we are to be ready.”

“Then we shall. Order the munitions experts to prepare the packages and get our missiles ready to shoot.” Ben-Shoshan laughed sadly. “When I joined the submarine arm and learned of our missiles, I had many ideas about the day we would finally use them. But never once did I think of a situation like this.”