Lori said, “I can’t wait to read his first editorial about the new evil Empire.”
“You know, Trevor,” Dante said, “Evan isn’t wrong all the time. You fight him on anything that comes out of his mouth, just because it’s him saying it. The guy may be a pain in the ass, but he actually makes a good point now and then.”
Before Trevor could reply, the door at the top of the basement stairs closed with a solid thud. Trevor brought the military meeting to order.
“Fate has decided to test our mettle. We have not one, but two urgent situations that must be addressed immediately.”
“Now that does not sound too good,” Brett Stanton said. “I mean, well now wait, I think most of us figured things would cool down for a spell now that Raleigh is done, given the supply situation and all.”
“I have received…” Trevor’s voice trailed as he considered his words. “… information of great importance. An expeditionary force is to be formed and depart immediately for a destination in the Arctic Circle.”
Eyes widened, scattered gasps, a jaw dropped, and Omar nearly choked on a puff of his cigarette.
“Listen close. We know that organized alien forces who invaded our planet come through gateways. We have suspected that those gateways provide reinforcements and supplies to our enemies. I tell you now there is a means to close those gates. A device. An artifact-I dunno exactly what it its. But it has been buried in the ice at the top of the world for centuries, maybe a millennium. Maybe longer.”
“That’s impossible,” Dante said. “How could we march an army to the north?”
Brewer cut in, “A small force. We’ll fly in stripped Eagles north to Hopedale in northeastern Canada.”
“We?” Lori Brewer said as if tasting a particularly sour lemon.
Gordon Knox joined the conversation. His voice held the faintest hint of a New Yorker’s accent even though he had lived most of his life south of the Mason-Dixon Line.
“There the task force will rendezvous with SSN-750 Newport News, one of our two operational nuclear submarines. That boat is returning from inserting recon teams into Ireland. The timing should be perfect.”
Trevor continued, “The sub will transport the task force to the glaciers and ice caps of northwestern Greenland. There they will disembark and race to the artifact. I have specific coordinates for the target area. The force will extract the object, return to the submarine, and make their way home.”
Cross talk ensued. Urgent, confused, and incredulous cross talk.
“Easy, easy,” Trevor held a hand aloft. “I know this sounds crazy but we have no choice. If we get hold of this object-these ‘runes’-we can effectively shut down those gates and cut off our enemies from reinforcements. This would not ensure victory, but it would be a tremendous step forward.”
“It’s suicide!” Dante complained.
“That’s too far!” Lori added.
Trevor spoke loud enough to override the dissenting voices.
“Other races are aware of these runes. They will send forces of their own to obtain them. If they do, it is my understanding they can fundamentally shift the parameters of the invasion of our planet. These runes are sort of a funnel or spigot that affects the flow through the gates. In enemy hands, that flow can be increased exponentially. We could find ourselves facing double, triple, maybe a hundred times more enemies than we face now. The flip side of that is we can shut off that spigot; close the gates.”
That silenced the debate for a moment.
Gordon Knox broke the silence. “Task Force Blizzard will need arctic gear including specialized weapons lubricants for the extreme temperatures, snow cats for transportation, and even dog sleds. I have already secured most of this equipment as per the orders given to me prior to this meeting. However, there is still much to do.”
“And little time to do it in,” Trevor looked directly at Jon Brewer. “I want the force wheels-up in less than forty-eight hours.”
“We’ll be ready,” Jon nodded.
Lori threw fire with her eyes at her husband. “When were you going to tell me this?”
“After the meeting,” Jon answered.
“I can not emphasize how important this mission is. That is why I have asked Jon to personally lead the force. He’ll take approximately one-hundred men with K9s in a support role.”
“Wait now, that don’t sound like a lot of firepower,” Brett Stanton noted.
“It isn’t,” Jon answered. “The emphasis is on moving fast. We’re hoping to avoid contact with hostiles. Still, I’m requisitioning mortars, anti-tank missiles, and a few other goodies in case we run into any problems.”
“We’ll see what we can scrounge up,” Stanton scratched his head.
Reverend Johnny said, “May the blessings of the Lord travel with you to that frozen wasteland, Mr. Brewer.”
Jon smiled at the Reverend. “I’m sure you’ll see to it that they will. Pack some long underwear.”
“Oh dear.”
Trevor concluded this part of the discussion. “Jon will hand-pick units to accompany him and the Reverend. Omar and Brett, you’ll be receiving written requisitions for equipment for Jon’s team. Fill those requisitions immediately. No red tape, no hassle. We can talk about this after the meeting as necessary but there’s no more room for discussion now. The decision is made.”
Trevor glanced around the table and made eye contact with each member of the council. He saw fear and surprise in their eyes, but this was not the first time. They would overcome the shock and focus on their jobs. They had to; there was no other choice.
“I said there were two items,” he moved on. As Trevor spoke, Brewer produced an easel with a map of North Carolina. “We’ve been fighting the ‘Grand Army of the Hivvan Republic‘ for nearly two years. Honestly, if we had met them that first year we never would have survived this long and Lord knows we’ve had our asses handed to us more than once. So here’s the good news: our offensive in Raleigh was not only successful, it created an opportunity to effectively cripple the Hivvans.”
“Jesus,” Dante whispered. “I knew it went well, but cripple them?”
“Listen up. General Shepherd reports that the Hivvans have made a big mistake. That is, they have put themselves in a bad position and we might just be able to break their backs, if we move quickly. Jon…”
Brewer referred to the map as he spoke. “As you know, the Hivvans used Raleigh as their primary base in North Carolina. General Shepherd has twelve of our seventeen operational military fixed-wing aircraft at his disposal and is using them to bombard, antagonize, and otherwise piss-off the retreating Hivvan Corp. Interstate 40 is the major route leading south out of Raleigh. Twenty-six miles or so south of that city I-40 intersects with I- 95 that runs to the southwest. You can see here, that intersection makes sort of a point in a triangle. I-95 continues southwest across the middle of North Carolina then eventually into South Carolina, here.”
He stood back and used his finger to outline the roads he mentioned.
“For its part, I-40 continues southeast toward the coast and Wilmington, um, right here. You can see here that another major road-Route 17- heads out of Wilmington and follows along the coast into South Carolina. The gist of it is, you have two major routes leading from North Carolina into South Carolina, one not far from the coast below Wilmington, the other much further inland.”
Lori stared at her husband with angry eyes and barked, “But what’s the point?”
Jon continued, “We expected the Hivvans would follow 40 until hitting 95 then follow that road in a retreat toward South Carolina. Their next major base-in fact their last big one in the region-is in Columbia. But that’s not what they did. It seems they are more disorganized than we thought. During their retreat, and under constant harassment from the air, the Hivvan armies did not follow either of the major routes. Instead, dozens of smaller, splintered formations headed almost directly south along minor roads into the small towns, villages, and wilderness between those two major routes. They are fractured and vulnerable, although they still represent a significant fighting force, somewhere between seven and eight thousand.”
“Well that’s good, right?” Dante guessed.
“It’s great,” Trevor agreed. “They are putting themselves in a big trap. They are heading through hard ground, tough terrain. They’ve got the Bladen Lakes State Forest in their path not to mention an uncountable number of streams and lakes. There’s also the impassable Green Swamp to the southeast so they can’t get to the coast.”
“Okay, but, so what?” Lori Brewer asked.
