The man glanced round, smiling briefly as he pulled the bolt back, raising the rifle once more, ‘You must be Brad…I’m Benjamin. I believe we will be now travelling together with your distressed lady friends…happy to meet you.’ His boot slipped forward onto the groaning throat below him, applying intense pressure as Brad’s eyes widened in shock, the man glancing round as the mortally wounded body shuddered below, ‘I must be slipping in my old age…I missed his head, caught him in the chest…he will die never the less.’ Benjamin glanced downwards, spitting onto the prone jolting figure, ‘Say nothing of this to the women…scum like these deserve to die, I killed many on active service.’
Brad shuddered as the bones cracked beneath the boot, his voice stammering in relief, ‘But…how did you know?’
Benjamin grinned, turning his foot to apply pressure to the windpipe beneath, patting the lower part of his sniper rifle, ‘Thermal sights…I could see the bodies and your reaction, their raised guns…the rest was obvious. They are drugged up…’ Grinning, he continued, ‘You are smaller and thinner…the helmet also helped.’ Benjamin glanced round cautiously, ‘Now, let’s get these bodies off the road and move on…their friends may come soon.’
Brad winced, forcing his weary body upwards against the dust covered paintwork, his head shaking in disbelief as he raised his visor, ‘They…they said they had young women captives, drugged up with others I think…somewhere in the mountains, a retreat or hideaway. Can we…’
The middle aged man spun round, his eyes almost menacing before softening, spittle falling from his mouth as he shouted at the youngster, ‘Forget them…they are lost. There are casualties in conflict and anarchy…I have seen it all before, you cannot save everyone...or you will die attempting to. Law and order is gone here now…we shoot first, there is only survival left. Collect their weapons…they are yours now.’ Swallowing, he composed himself, speaking more softly, but eyes darkening, ‘You will see many more dead young man…and others killed, some by you if you want to stay alive. A living hell has now arrived on earth…you will have to be strong to survive…it is now only live or let live.’
Benjamin sniffed in morbid resignation, ‘The enemy seem highly organised and ruthless, were as the human race as is its nature, will only collapse into infighting and attempting to gain temporary benefit at the expense of others. Cowards will emerge to satisfy their perverted urges and we must be ready. Your, the ladies and children’s lives begin here with me…now help me get the bodies away, the women and children cannot see them…they will become traumatised.’
Then Benjamin’s eyes narrowed, his head rising as if to sense the dust filled billowing air, the pulse of engines above, the craft seeming to circle as other’s swept past, brief flashing lights as the older man grasped the young biker’ shoulder, dragging him round to the back of the MPV, his voice strained in fear, ‘The enemy is here!’
Area 51, Western United States
Staff sergeant Louis Estevez’s hand rose to his ear, his eyes widening at one of the covert radio consoles, static and burbled excited words sweeping across the airwaves, muffled explosions in the background as numerous shattered units reported in to what was left of local commands. The remnant stragglers from battles on the western seaboard were fighting hard, but now completely outnumbered and outgunned, many in full desperate retreat eastwards in any vehicle space they could find.
Sporadic firefights were breaking out throughout the mountains between Las Vegas and the new sea shore, the San Andreas fault line now steaming at high pressure as salt water mixed with churning lava reacted, the remnants of cities and broken land now shattered further westwards. Clouds of highly toxic dust now hung in the atmosphere, the substantial explosions and high pressure clouds throwing heavily polluted particles high into the sky.
Switching short wave frequencies, the twenty six year old, black haired air force technician listened intently, his deep blue eyes straining to hear as local national guard commanders chattered across short wave radios in Las Vegas, just over one hundred and thirty kilometres to the south east. As one of five listeners, the mixed Puerto Rican was an accomplished engineer, qualifying for an invited secretive assignment at the covert base sometimes nicknamed ‘Dreamland’ or ‘Paradise Ranch’. Then he shook his head, attempting to distinguish the faint background sound, his hearing heightening as the low siren began to wail behind the radio chatter all across the nearby city.
Spinning his chair round, the wheels squealed on the linoleum floor before coming to rest against the metal trim bordering his desk boundary, he raised his voice towards the desk set higher in the darkened auditorium, the main screens on the wall opposite now in darkness, ‘Desk five sir…an emergency update.’
The four senior figures above were virtually in darkness, low lighters shining onto the desks before them as the hushed talking ceased, Louis straining his eyes into the darkness and glimpsing the numerous medal ribbons turning to stare down on him. A low unperturbed voice urged him to continue, his hands shaking as he rubbed them against his dark blue standard issue trousers, ‘S-sir…air raid warning sirens sounding in Las Vegas…numerous locations from what I can determine. I must report that the enemy is probably attacking the city from the air and potentially with dropships…’
The hushed voices seemed to recommence, a startled increase in behaviours as Louis saw hands gesturing and a couple of the supervising generals lean forward to talk across each other.
Another nervous voice then spoke up from further along
