four, five and six took him down with coax.”
“Roger that. Thank’s for the service guys. Tanks, spread out, keep the rest of the guards covered. For pity’s sake be careful how you maneuver, we don’t want to crush the poor bastards in the mud.” She took another look at the center of the compound where the prisoners held there were staring at the human tanks that had just blasted their way into their own private Hell. “Charlie and Delta, move on up. York, follow them. Which one of you has that TV crew on board?”
“That’s us Colonel. Charlie-Seven.”
“Hokay, get up here fast. The world has got to see this.”
Chapter Sixty Six
Sampson Household, Sapulpa, Oklahoma, USA
“The following news items contains images and stories that some viewers may find distressing. Viewer discretion is therefore advised. Nikole, are you there?” The news broadcast cut away from the studio into a scene that, from its clear white light, should have been Heaven. Only, the sight of the walled enclosure and the vile, filth- drenched mud of the ground seemed more like Hell than Heaven. The wailing from the crippled inhabitants of the camp made the situation even more confused. John Sampson had spent most of his life as a fairly observant Episcopalian but he was sure that he had never heard of anything like this in Heaven. In the background, a large group of humans were trying to lift an angel out of the mud and load the victim on to a tank transporter so it could be moved away from the scene. For a brief second, the sounds of the camp were drowned out by a Mi-26 helicopter flying overhead, carrying another angel as a slung load. Then the pitiful sounds of the camp returned, the contrast with the roar of the helicopter engines making them even more plaintive.
“Hello, Anita? Good to hear from you.” She turned slightly and faced the camera rather than the monitor off to her left. “This is Nikole Killion reporting from Heaven. Earlier today, the Spearhead Battalion of the Third Armored Division overran this concentration camp, here, in Heaven. Ladies and gentlemen, I spent six months in Hell as your assigned correspondent there. I saw many things in Hell, some too dreadful ever to put on television. I saw our tortured dead being retrieved from the Hellpit. I saw battlefields where the mangled corpses of the daemons who died trying to fight our tanks with bronze tridents covered mile after mile. I saw more than I ever wanted to of horror in Hell but I saw other things as well. I saw our humanity as we succored those in need, I saw the tenderness and compassion of our troops as they treated the crippled and wounded. And I saw the guilt of the daemons themselves as the evil influence of Satan faded and they realized the error of their ways. I saw their joy when the realized the weight of oppression was lifted from them. But never did I see in Hell anything like the scenes I have witnessed here today.”
Behind the camera Killion saw the producer made the traditional ‘you’re laying it on too thick’ sign. Before she could resume though, there was a dreadful scream from behind her. The angel had been lifted on to a cargo palette so that it could be moved more easily but one of its broken wings had caught the edge and been twisted around. Undoubtedly the bones had grated against each other to produce that scream of pain. Killion glanced again at the producer and got a ‘forget it, you were right’ sign.
“This concentration camp is something beyond our understanding. The Armenian Massacres, Auschwitz and the rest of the Holocaust, the Rwanda Massacres, the Hellpit, all of those were executed by one group oppressing another. That isn’t an excuse for them of course but it highlights the fact that this place is different. The only thing that separates the angels in this camp from the rest is that these ones didn’t quite agree with everything Yahweh said. For that one crime, they ended up here, their wings, and in many cases their legs, broken beyond repair. The doctors here have told me they will do what they can but these are the worst bone injuries they have ever seen. Colonel Keisha Stevenson, commander of the Spearhead Battalion, has spared a few minutes of her time to speak with us. Colonel, what is happening right now.”
“Hokay, Nikole. Our first priority is to get the victims in this place out. I’ll be honest with you, some of these angels are not going to make it. The least we can do is get them out of here so they can die in more comfortable circumstances. We’ve got a hospice area set up a mile or so away, we’re moving the beyond-hope ones there and doping them up with morphine so their final hours will be as pain-free and pleasant as possible. The rest, we’re trying to get to hospitals on Earth. It’s triage I’m afraid, separating those who can be saved from those who cannot. The worst duty of any doctor tasked with handling a major disaster has to face.”
Across the bottom of the television screen, a message bar started to roll. It was an appeal for assistance in handling the unfolding disaster. One of many such appeals that had been launched ever since the Salvation War had started. John Sampson looked at his wife, Ellen, and exchanged nods. They didn’t have much left but they’d send a little money to help.
“Colonel, have we any idea who was responsible for this horror?” Killion was having trouble keeping her voice level.
“We do. The orders came from Yahweh himself. We have them exactly. ‘ For defying My Eternal Will they should suffer the agonies of Hell for all eternity. I decree eternal damnation for them with all the suffering that their vile treachery deserves.’ And those orders were issued to the commandant of this camp, the daemon Grand Duke Belial.”
“Belial?” Killion could barely believe it and her voice rose uncontrolled. “Belial ran this camp? The one who was responsible for Sheffield and Detroit? What connection does he have with Yahweh?”
“Appears to work for him. And be Satan’s replacement. Of course, since he seems to have been appointed Satan’s replacement by Yahweh, well, it makes us think right? The guards here are nobodies, lowest rank angels. Hierarchy is pretty strong here in Heaven and the lowest ranks of angels are pretty much servants of the higher ranks. That’s what the lan in their names means. ‘Servant of’. From what we can see, the prisoners here are all middle rank angels so the guards took their millennia of servitude out on them.”
“What happened to Belial? Is he in custody?”
“No such luck Nikole. He portalled out as soon as we appeared. Probably went to Earth and then back to either here or somewhere in Hell. We’ll get him in the end.”
“So Yahweh is directly responsible for all of this.” Killion shook her head. “Where do we go from here?”
“Hokay, here, we need help, need it bad. A single combined arms battalion and a med unit aren’t nearly enough. We’re not trained for it, we’re not equipped for it. We need disaster relief specialists right away. For the Spearhead battalion? We gotta job to do over in the Eternal City. There’s folks that need rescuing over there.”
“Humans or angels?” Killion couldn’t help asking.
Stevenson looked around at the scene surrounding them. “Both, I guess.”
Welfare and Assistance Group, Phelan Plain, Hell.
The queue at the camp was endless, as quickly as those at the head could be processed, others arrived and joined the tail. Once people had been reborn as second lifers or rescued from the Hellpit they had been taken through the identification and induction formalities at the initial reception center. Some who came through the gate had already restructured their finances to allow themselves to continue with their existing assets in the second life. They could leave right away, either to the areas run by their own country or to one of the new mini-states that were proliferating across human-occupied Hell. Others had not had that chance and many, many more, especially the refugees from the hellpit had nothing to start with. And so they came here, reborn or recovered, to get some help easing into what was rapidly becoming the most aggressive free market economy in history. Making sure that they had a fair deal and the best start possible was the duty of the Welfare and Assistance Section.
For a peculiar complex of reasons, Australia had been uniquely placed to fill a gap. Its primary industries were now in overdrive to provide raw materials and refining for the growth of the world’s armies and that had caused its unemployment rate had dropped to levels unseen since World War Two. This slump in demand for welfare and assistance had combined with their existing agency’s experience in operating a large and complex welfare system to give them the experience they needed. Add in disaster and crisis response and the fact that Australia had not yet been and was not likely to be a target for a major attack had made them the ideal choice to lead the new multinational welfare organization.
The past year had been a hectic one for Donald Weems. He’d been heading up what he now knew to be a Yah-Yah enhanced cyclone response task force in Queensland, arranging emergency finance, fast-tracking new
