divisions continued to advance, Hivvan units inside the city turned tail-literally-and ran.
The ferocity of the assault combined with the breech of their wall shocked the aliens into rout. Units disintegrated into rabble and officers lost control of their charges…
…Shepherd watched through his binoculars as the sun completely set and the battle became a night fight. Humanity liked fighting at night. It added to their mystique and they maintained a good supply of night vision equipment scavenged from the old world.
Explosions erupted across the wide front. Short-range artillery and mortars dueled. Helicopters hovered, found targets, and fired. The dust of the destroyed walls hung over it all in a haze illuminated by flashing flares and searching floodlights.
Bogart listened to a radio report and said, “Sir, the boss is coming. Eagle One touchdown in two minutes.”
Shepherd shook his head and offered a wry grin. “He sure likes to make an entrance, don’t he?”
Bogart nodded but his attention remained on the chorus of reports coming from the front and playing in his headphones…
…A flight of three rectangular air ships moved over the dead woodlands of the golf course. With no wings or rotors, the crafts appeared to contradict the laws of aerodynamics. At the front, a triangular nose cone with rounded edges and a thin long cockpit windshield. In the center, a brick-shaped passenger compartment, followed to the rear by two engine baffles. On each corner sat a pod sporting flat, round landing gear and blinking running lights. The white-colored flying machines scanned the ground through brilliant spotlights fixed to the undercarriage.
The ships found a suitable landing zone on the dead greens. The vehicles hovered for a moment then slid to the ground with nary a sound. The landing gear bounced gently, absorbing the weight of the craft.
Ramps extended from the passenger compartment doors. Human and dog soldiers-Grenadiers-poured out…
…Kristy Kaufman, dressed in perfectly pressed tiger camo with an Aussie cowboy hat, took aim through a night vision scope then blasted the short snout off a Hivvan soldier. Combined with a bazooka shot from one of her comrades that blew up a Firecat, the hole in the northern wall was cleared of its last defenders.
Stonewall then led a wave of infantry into the city of Raleigh, North Carolina: the first free humans in that city in years.
He radioed his report to General Shepherd: “The enemy is retiring from the city in earnest. A rear guard is half-heartily attempting to delay us but I believe you will find that they are heading quickly for Interstate Forty southbound.”
Shepherd’s voice replied, “Keep the pressure up as long as you can, General. Make sure we drive them out all the way.”
Stonewall cocked an eye and answered, “Yes, I believe that is the objective.”
He raised his sword and urged his men onward…
…Shepherd no longer occupied the roof of the building alone. The entourage had arrived, most of which stayed below but he was there on the roof alongside his General. The man at the center of it all. The man who had plucked survivors-including Shepherd-from the rubble of humanity’s civilization. The man who had turned the tide of Armageddon.
Trevor Stone.
Like the rest of them, his face had weathered the passing of time by growing harder, more resolved. War was their reality, their life.
Trevor held field glasses, too, and stood next to Shepherd.
“How are we doing this evening, General?”
“We shocked em’ and got em’ on the run. They don’t like it but they’re pulling out. About ten thousand of them with a handful fighting rearguard action.”
Trevor knew that more than fifteen thousand of his people-two mechanized divisions-led the assault.
Shepherd made the more important point: “The choppers got the ball rolling. They made the difference. Make sure you give Jon Brewer my thanks for that. In any case, I figure by dawn I’ll be able to present you with the city of Raleigh, North Carolina.”
“Good,” Trevor nodded in satisfaction. “I’ll add it to my collection.”
–
The three male members of the Dark Wolves unit gathered on the roof of the Sears building after spending the night camped in the old cosmetics department.
A haze remained over the battlefield, dulling the morning sun. The enemy armies had fled but scattered reports of gunfire rang out periodically as human forces moved through the debris. Overhead, a small helicopter buzzed by, and in the distance loudspeakers broadcast a message of freedom to the city’s slaves.
“Now that was tidy,” Oliver Maddock said, referring to the ruin of the Hivvan walls visible from their perch.
“Tidy?” Carl Bly replied. “I’d say that was just about the shit.”
“Oh, sorry chap,” Maddock rephrased as he understood his fellow commando did not recognize Welsh slang. “I should be saying, ‘excellent’ or something like that, for your sake.”
“Kiss my black ass,” Bly shot with a smile.
“Pucker up, sweetie,” the Welshman blew him a kiss.
Nina Forest joined the group. As usual, Odin obediently trailed behind.
“What’s the word, Captain?” Vince Caesar asked in his usual, straight-laced all-soldier way.
Nina told them, “The word is that the man himself wants to see us.”
“Again? Well isn’t that just swank,” Oliver said.
Caesar asked, “What about the bad guys? They all cleared out?”
Nina answered, “Nothing to it. Second Mech chased them a couple of miles out of town before running out of gas. Fast-movers are harassing their green asses as they run down forty.”
“Be-utiful,” Carl Bly quipped.
“What’s the man want?” Caesar asked, again with the all-business attitude drilled into him during his old world life with Marine Force Recon.
In other company, Caesar’s background might sound impressive, but among the Dark Wolves, his was just another resume to match Oliver Maddock’s five years in British SAS and Carl Bly’s tour as a U.S. Army Ranger.
In another world, it would be Nina Forest’s resume as a SWAT officer and National Guard pilot that would not have stacked up; certainly not enough to serve as element leader for the team. But Armageddon re-shuffled the deck. She had fought the Redcoats at Wilkes-Barre and she had fought in the legendary Battle of Five Armies; the battle that turned the tide.
In the four years since that great fight, she had fought in dozens of other battles and proved her worth by wiping out alien armies and extraterrestrial monsters. Indeed, her resume fit perfectly with this new world.
Nina smiled as she answered Caesar’s question, “I think we’ve earned some more jewelry.”
Completed in 1840, the North Carolina State Capitol building wore Greek Revival architecture including tall stone columns and an impressive dome sitting at the center of four distinct wings.
As Trevor and his entourage of human and canine bodyguards approached, he thought the building reminded him of the county courthouse back home in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania but, then again, he figured most capitols would look familiar: politicians of old loved buildings that projected power and control.
Of course, the rest of Raleigh felt familiar for darker reasons.
He had seen it before. Richmond. Baltimore. Heavy Hivvan industry including matter transfiguration equipment; bulldozed or blasted houses replaced with alien domes; and of course, the hordes of malnourished, beaten human slaves who labored for extraterrestrial masters.
In the case of this city, they rescued nearly six thousand from pens and chain gangs and the bowels of the hideous manufacturing facilities. Many would die in the next few days from their wounds, disease, and lack of nourishment. Most would recover and take their place in man’s new nation.
Raleigh would be salvaged from the filth of alien occupation. It would take time to wash away the infection,
