“You got it,” Barb said as she climbed into the Jet Ranger.
“If you ladies are buckled in?” the Army warrant asked.
“Pilot, are you briefed in on this?” Barb asked after donning headphones. “You can’t get near this threat. You cannot get in direct view. If you happen to make a mistake and get too high, don’t look at it.”
“We’re briefed in, ma’am,” the pilot responded as the helo climbed for height. “Your LZ is a clearing on a secondary hilltop. The mission target is a hill that should both overlook the threat and protect us from sight. May I ask a question?”
“Go,” Janea said, rereading the manual on the targeting system.
“May I ask why I can’t see it?”
“If you weren’t told then you don’t have the need-to-know,” Barb said. “But don’t get curious. On your life, don’t get curious. I’m deadly serious.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the pilot said.
“Well, here we go,” Janea said, looking at the woods in distaste. “Have I ever told you how much I prefer cities?”
“I’ve gotten that impression,” Barb said, grinning. “Let’s head up the hill.”
“FLIR,” Barb said as they reached the military crest of the hill.
“Oh, you betcha,” Janea said.
The device they were carrying included a telescope. But it wasn’t necessary to spot the Gar. The leprous monstrosity was slowly working its way down the road below. As Barb watched, it plowed into a house, leaving a splintered wreck in its wake.
“Oh, dear Freya aid,” Janea said, softly.
“You going to be okay?” Barb asked.
“I’m not sure that’s correct,” Janea said. “But I’m not going insane now. Don’t ask me about tonight.”
“Let’s get this set up,” Barb said, taking off her pack.
The target identifier was essentially a larger version of their headsets with a laser system and a GPS. By lasing the target it got a distance, direction and change of altitude. With that information it knew the precise location of the target and would automatically communicate that to whatever system was used to bring down the firepower, artillery, MLRS or JDAMs from aircraft.
“Don’t look at it with clear eyes,” Barb said. “But you need to take the FLIR off to target this thing.”
“Got it,” Janea said, taking off the FLIR with her eyes closed and fumbling forward to get her eye on the scope. “Damn…it’s a lot harder to look at with this thing. It’s more close up.”
“Still okay?” Barb asked.
“Hanging in there,” Janea said in a strained voice. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Roger,” Barb said, picking up a microphone. “Wildcat Four-Four, Wildcat Four-Four, this is Sierra Charlie One…”
“Don’t look at the ground,” Lieutenant Aaron Yin said bitchily. “What kind of stupid order is that?”
“It’s an order,” Captain Brandon Lovell said, banking his F-16 around to the east to keep in the target basket. “So don’t look at the ground.”
“Wildcat Four-Four, Wildcat Four-Four, this is Sierra Charlie One.”
“Roger, Sierra Charlie,” Captain Lovell said.
“Our device says it’s connected, Wildcat.”
“Roger, ma’am,” Lovell replied. “Got a good lock on your box.”
“Why Wildcat, I didn’t know you cared,” another female voice answered. It was a very throaty contralto, and Lovell had a sudden serious desire to meet the owner of the voice.
“We are doing target upload at this time,” the first voice said with a touch of asperity in her voice.
“Roger, have target data,” Lovell said. “Drop permission on file. Release.” His F-16 rocked a bit as the thousand-pound bomb dropped off its wing, but he corrected automatically. He’d dropped literally hundreds of JDAMs over Iraq and Afghanistan. “Twenty seconds to impact.” He watched the countdown clock, then started counting. “In ten…five…two…Impact.”
“Roger, Wildcat. Good drop. On target. Standby.”
“Sierra Charlie One, status of target,” another voice asked. Lovell looked at the connection data and blanched. It read: AF Six. The Chief of Staff of the Air Force was on the line.
“Negative effect,” the ground spotter said.
“Not a Freya-damned thing,” the contralto added. “This is stupid.”
“Retarget, Sierra Charlie,” AF Six said. “Wildcat, full ordnance drop on acquire.”
“Retargeted,” Sierra Charlie said a moment later.
“Positive acquisition,” Lovell said. “Wildcat Mission, full ordnance drop. Ordnance away.”
“RTB, Wildcat,” AF Six ordered.
“What the fuck did she mean, negative effect?” Yin asked over the local frequency.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Lovell said, banking his fighter around and heading back to base. “Ours not to question why…”
He paused as there was a scream from Yin’s aircraft, and looked over at it. Which was fortunate because his wingman was banking hard towards him and about to midair.
“Son of a bitch,” Lovell snapped, banking into a barrel roll. “Yin, what the fuck?”
“Wildcat. Status,” the air combat controller called.
“Wildcat Four Two is in OOC,” Lovell said, turning to look at the descending aircraft. Yin was in a flat spin and still screaming. “Tardis, punch it! EJECT, EJE…”
Then his eyes glanced to the ground.
Barbara shook her head as the spinning F-16 slammed into a distant mountaintop and exploded in fire.
“Lord, please send me the power to destroy this thing,” Barb whispered fiercely. “There are many faithful in this nation. Would You ignore Your Chosen because of those few who are blind? Please, Lord, give us Your mercy.”
“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Janea said, flipping down her FLIR and picking up the target designator. “I think you’re getting Stern God on this one. Very Old Testament. Jesus need not apply. Believe or be damned.”
“I think you might be right,” Barb said. “And I’m not sure which way we’ll hop.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“There is BDA from the site,” the Air Force Chief of Staff said over the video link. “Are you sure you actually hit the target? The bomb craters looked as if we were just bombing an open field.”
“Oh, they hit,” Janea said nastily. “But they didn’t have any effect. They blew up real nice. And it didn’t even slow the Gar down. It was like it wasn’t there.”
“If you’d been looking at it, you’d think we were bombing a hologram,” Barb said. “That’s a demonic effect I’ve seen before. Bullets just go right through, and then it hits something and destroys it. Don’t ask me how it works; it’s metaphysics.”
“That wasn’t the worst part,” Janea said bitterly. “ I was looking through the scope. It brought its captives with it. Even they were protected.”
“How many?” the NSA asked.
“Five, I think,” Janea said. “Those we couldn’t grab at the slaughterhouse. And, honestly, if I’d been one of them, as I almost was, I’d have preferred the bombs worked on me. I’d be thanking you from Hel.”
“You think you’re going to hell?” SOCOM asked. “You’re a priestess.”
“Hel, H-E-L,” Janea said, rolling her eyes. “It’s where Asatru go that don’t die in battle. Sort of like Christian limbo. Just a boring place.”
“That is interesting but not getting us anywhere,” the NSA said. “Suggestions.”
