attack.
The Hivvans hid in campers and cottages.
Trevor burned them to the ground with the hissing aliens inside. The smoke was visible for miles.
The highest ranking Hivvan commander inside the pocket and his bodyguards tried to run. When their fate came calling, those aliens who had enslaved and killed humans turned and ran through the woods like deer from a wolf.
Trevor Stone personally shot the commander in the leg. The invader rolled down the bank of the creek amidst the green briar brush beneath a cluster of Atlantic White Cedars. The reptile’s booted feet splashed in the water.
He looked into the enemy’s yellow eyes with contempt then used his assault rifle like a club. He smashed the alien’s short shout and cracked its skull. The thing lay dead but Trevor kept swinging his weapon again, and again, and again.
He could nearly hear the Old Man laughing.
27. Sow
“T-A-C this is Dasher One, we’re heading downtown,” the veteran pilot radioed.
“Ah, roger that, Dasher One you are authorized to engage,” came the reply.
“Hey Billy, you ready?”
“Yep. I mean, yes, Sir,” the young wingman answered.
With air supremacy achieved, the two F-15’s carried 2,000 pound laser-guided bombs built to penetrate bunkers, silos, or even fortified Hivvan headquarters.
The two jets streaked over the morning skies toward Columbia, passing friendly troops that held Fort Jackson east of the city.
Their target was a massive alien structure that had been built at Finlay Park near the center of the city. Messages were scribbled in chalk on the casings of those 2,000 pound bombs:
“For Joan” and “ Here come the Judge!”
Anti-aircraft batteries spit bolts of energy toward the craft as they zoomed in but Hivvan AA fire was spotty at best, comical at worst. Another sign that this race had not had to deal with effective air power on their home world.
The two planes dropped their ordnance. The bombs smashed through the roof of the brick-shaped building, penetrated deep inside, then exploded, terminating what little command and control remained to defend Columbia.
More sorties followed from a dozen different aircraft types. They hit defensive emplacements, troop formations, and walls built around the city. However, the strikes avoided the industrial heart of the Hivvan- controlled enclave. More specifically, the matter transfiguration equipment operating in buildings around the eastern banks of the Broad River.
After having eliminating the alien pocket in North Carolina, humanity had turned its attention to Columbia, attacking with every last remaining bullet, shell, and gallon of aviation fuel. Suffering from the shock of their massive loss to the north, the Hivvans appeared unwilling to put up a major fight in Columbia.
General Prescott’s 1 ^ st Armored Division rolled down Route 77 from the North, General Stonewall McAllister’s 2 ^ nd Mechanized Infantry came from the east out of Fort Jackson, and Shepherd’s 1 ^ st Mech attacked from the south along Old Bluff Road. They approached like three talons reaching to grab Columbia. They smashed into the alien perimeter on Saturday, September 19 ^ th.
Stonewall’s cavalry punched a hole straight through the defensive lines and did not look back. His success was aided by 1 ^ st Armored’s tanks drawing the dangerous Hivvan Battlebarges to the northern perimeter. Prescott’s division suffered 20 % casualties in the first six hours of fighting before finally breaking through.
The attack on Columbia was the last gamble in a string of gambles that had started after Raleigh. Again, this one paid off.
After twenty-four hours of fighting, the three Generals met at the corner of North Sumter and Gervais Streets by the campus of South Carolina University. The dormitories there served as slavery hostels holding thousands of humans in captivity.
The Hivvans retreated west from Columbia on Interstate 20. There would be no clever plan to trap them; no airpower to harass their escape. Columbia was the finish line; supplies were exhausted, even with the captured Raleigh matter-makers operating at maximum capacity. The summer campaign ended after achieving more than Trevor dared dream.
Omar Nehru salivated like Pavlov’s dogs when he saw the matter makers in Columbia. They were larger, improved models. He estimated they would triple output capability. Supplies would not remain depleted for long. Empty warehouses and fuel tanks would be filled soon. Not just for the army, but for the civilians back home, too.
The military would have the respite it needed to lick its wounds. The homeland would receive the supplies it craved.
Conversely, the Grand Army of the Hivvan Republic had suffered a series of defeats leaving humanity in full possession of the initiative. Yes, the war would eventually continue, but it would continue in a manner dictated by Trevor Stone and his expanding Empire.
Lori Brewer walked the driveway of the estate with a clipboard in hand and two aids on her flanks.
Autumn arrived. She felt it in the chilled air. That meant heating fuel, blankets, winter clothing, and flu season. That meant more tasks and concerns to keep her mind focused on her job and not on other things. Not on her personal worries.
An aid told her, “We estimate needs at a dozen more boxcars of heavy outerwear and a couple of tankers worth of oil. I’m not sure how we’re going to get that together, not with all the new people coming out of South Carolina.”
Lori replied, “We just have to keep things together for another week. Science and Technology tells me those matter-makers are ready to go. Once they’re on line they’ll be plenty of supplies. Nehru says this is going to be the easiest winter we’ve ever had. Things are finally looking-”
She stopped in mid-sentence.
Jon stood there, ten paces away, smiling.
Lori froze. Words failed her for one of the few times in her life.
One aide took the clipboard from Lori’s hand and then encouraged the second to join him in heading inside the mansion. Mrs. Brewer waited until they disappeared inside. Then she walked-she did not run-up the driveway until she stood in front of her tall husband.
“Let’s see,” she studied him for a moment. “Well, it looks like you’re all in one piece.”
He nodded, “I missed you, too.”
She bit her lip and fought oh-so-hard to hold it back.
“Your daughter missed you,” she told him.
“You sure are a tough one, aren’t you?”
“Don’t…d-don’t you ever forget it.”
Lori and Jon wrapped their arms around one another in the way that only familiar couples can. Kisses were great and romantic, but for those who knew each other so well and had been together so long…well nothing is ever closer than a strong hug.
With her face against his chest, Jon could not see the water in her eyes.
Then again, Lori could not see the tears in his, either.
“Now what?” Trevor’s words sounded more an exasperated sigh, like a child tired of his chores.
“Whoa, now, Trevvy,” the Old Man said from his seat on the lump of red rock. “I may not be the tallest branch on the tree but it seems to me you should be celebrating and makin’ with the whoopees and shit. You got
