Angelic Treatment Ward, Bethesda Naval Hospital, Bethesda, MD
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m afraid the helicopter operations are a military necessity.” Chief Petty Officer Michaela Harris silently raised her eyebrows and shook her head in exasperation. “Yes, I do know that the big helicopter is likely to make your house shake when it takes off. Unfortunately, we need its lifting capacity…… No, ma’am, any casualties can’t wait until morning…… Well, it is your privilege to call your Congressman but I should advise you that he is one of the volunteers out here helping us with our work…… Now, there is no need to use language like that.” She hung the phone up, paused a second and pushed the button for the next line. “Bethesda Naval Hospital, CPO Harris speaking…… Why, thank you Sir, we are always in need of blood donations here. Sir, if you would like to come along tomorrow morning, the U.S. Volunteers on guard will direct you to the correct area. Thank you for your patriotic offer, Sir, and have a good day.”
“Rough time Chief?” Colonel Paschal was sympathetic.
“Calls backed up to the Potomac and beyond. People are guessing something is going on from all the air movements and that Russian Mi-26 is attracting a lot of attention. Mostly, people seem to think there’s been a big skirmish in Hell and there are a lot of casualties coming in.”
“Wait until tomorrow morning when the real news breaks.” He was interrupted by the noise of yet another UH-60 coming in to land. He glanced across at the bird, it was an old one, probably a boneyard recovery, and didn’t have hellfilters. “Carry on with the good work Chief. My package has just arrived.”
Paschal ran over to where the helicopter was spooling down. Five figures were getting out, four prison guards and a single female figure in orange coveralls. “Why, Miss Branch. I hope you enjoyed your flight here.”
She looked at him dully. At least, her appearance was better now she’d been taken out of General Population and housed in a Supermax. For many prisoners, Supermax was a haven rather than a restriction. Branch was one, Paschal seriously believed that if she had been left in General Population, she’d be dead by now. As it was, she just stared at him, saying nothing.
“We’ve got a special privilege for you Miss Branch. A pair of Angels have just defected to us and we thought you might like to meet them. One of them is a close associate of your old friend Michael. The other is his mate. You”ll be really interested in meeting her although she isn’t really up to speaking yet. We’ll start with Lemuel-Lan- Michael. By the way, any word of your family yet? No? Ah well, they must still be in the Hellpit somewhere. Don’t worry, we’ll get to them sooner or later.”
“They’re in Heaven. Yahweh promised.” The words came out in a dogmatic pout that reminded Paschal of a child stamping his foot and swearing ‘it ain’t so.’
“Miss Branch, as far as we can make out, no modern residents of Earth went to Heaven. None at all.”
“That’s not true Colonel.” Lemuel had heard the remark as they approached him. “There are some modern humans in Heaven. Michael rescued them. He has them hidden in his organization. At first I did not know it was he who had saved them from Hell, it was only when we rescued Maion than I realized it. But, they are the ones he was able to rescue and those that he could find hiding places for. There is only so much he could do.”
Oh great, that’s all we needed, Pashal thought. Finding out that the Great General Michael-Lan has actually been emulating Oskar Schindler.
“Lemuel-Lan, would you tell this young lady what happened to you and Maion please?”
For Lemuel, it was something in the way of a cathartic release. The story poured out, how he had started investigating one small conspiracy, how the investigation had mushroomed as more and more leads had led to the discovery of additional conspiracies. It ended with him finding Maion in Yahweh’s concentration camp and escaping to Earth so she could be saved by human medicine. By the time it ended, Branch was weeping, at least partly in response to Maion’s fate but mostly at her own disintegrating beliefs.
“You’re lying. None of it is true.” It was the same, child-stamping-its-foot tone again.
“Come with me.” Paschal led her into the tent that housed Maion. Even surrounded by medical equipment, most of her face covered by an extemporized breathing mask and her wings surrounded by a maze of timber splits, she was still stunningly beautiful. That only seemed to highlight the injuries she had received. “You see Miss Branch? Yahweh did this, or to be more accurate, he ordered it done. Angels can’t lie, that’s what your belief says isn’t it? If your beliefs are true and Angels can’t lie, then what Lemuel-Lan told you is true. Yahweh did this because another female angel was jealous of Maion. If angels can lie, then that proves that your beliefs are wrong anyway.”
It was the final blow to the core of Kathryn Branch’s beliefs. The simple presence of Lemuel on Earth, the battered figure in front of her and the story that linked them together was the end. The faith that had kept her going through months of imprisonment crumbled as inexorably as a sand castle facing the incoming tide. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, but we’ll start with one key question. The attack on DIMO(N) at Fort Bragg. You told Michael-Lan about DIMO(N)?”
“Yes.” The words came out between sobs. “It was to protect Heaven. He said that humans couldn’t attack Heaven if DIMO(N) was destroyed.”
Paschal sat back slightly. “Right Miss Branch. Now, we’ll start from the beginning and you can tell us everything that happened since the day of The Message.” And after we’ve finished with you, we’ll get to work on that worm Yitzhak.
War Room, The White House, Washington D.C.
“Welcome back Mister President.” General Schatten seemed inordinately pleased with himself. “Did you enjoy the brief excursion to Andrews?”
“When I used ‘yes we can’ as our election slogan, I didn’t expect it to be used in the context of ‘yes we can pick you up, throw you in a helicopter and fly you out of the city at a moment’s notice’. The Secret Service can be very insistent sometimes.” The President’s voice was a curious mixture of amusement, anger and resentment, liberally mixed with admiration for the efficiency of the system that had got him out of the danger zone so quickly.
“Back in the day, Mister President, we had minutes, perhaps seconds, to try and get the command authority secured. The one thing we disliked intensely was the idea of a decapitation strike. We’d thought that one through ourselves and gave it up as counter-productive but we were never quite sure the opposition had come to the same conclusion. So, the whole scheme was set up to preserve the national command authority. Still is come to that. The Secret Service have an absolute duty to protect you. If you think this was bad, ask about the rows that took place when your predecessor wanted one of the museum recovery F-102s as the ‘Presidential Interceptor’. The Secret Service almost went into orbit at that idea. “
“I did not like the idea of leaving Michelle and the children behind.” The President had been distinctly unhappy about that part of the emergency evacuation and had made his opinions very clear.
“Believe it or not, Sir, nor did we. There are various plans that apply to different levels of warning. This one was probably the most time-critical. If the rocks were about to start coming down, we had to get you clear at any cost. Under those circumstances, if the First Family aren’t immediately available, they have to follow later.”
“I don’t like that. I want those plans revised; get the contractors we employ to work on it.”
“Yes Sir. The good news is, Sir, there is lots of good news. It wasn’t a rock attack, it was two angels escaping from Heaven. We have two high-class defectors and one of them has already stated he will open a portal to heaven for us. The long stalemate is over Sir. Assuming that our defector is operating in good faith, and we already have every reason to believe that he is, then we have our way into Heaven.”
“Does General Petraeus know? And how about the rest of the Yamantau Council?”
“General Petraeus, yes. He was told while you were on board your helicopter coming back here. He’s getting the plans ready for the assault now. Yamantau? Not officially although the Russians know unofficially. So do the Irish. Official word hasn’t gone out yet though.”
“The Irish? How did that happen?”
“One of the Angels coming through has had her wing joints crushed. Deliberately, on Yahweh’s orders. Anyway, the doctor on the scene contacted the Royal Hospital in Belfast for help. They treated a lot of crushed joints from IRA kneecappings and he needed expert advice. It leaked out from there. One thing Sir, and this is something Yamantau certainly do not know yet. It’s beginning to look as if Michael-Lan may be an ally, not an enemy. Or, at least, he may be an enemy we can work with.”
“I find that hard to believe. Remember Tel Aviv?”
“That wasn’t Michael-Lan’s work Sir. We believe that was carried out by another angel, Azrael. And Azrael is very strongly linked with Yahweh. We’ve been looking at Michael-Lan’s work and he does seem to have
