All of the operator stiffened as the President of the United States stepped from the side briefing room below them, the exhausted leader raising a cigarette to his mouth and flicking a zippo lighter. His weary dark underlined eyes glanced across their surprised faces as he grinned, indicating to the smouldering long cigarette in irony, ‘Does this matter now?’ His eyes strained slightly, almost reflectively, ‘I gave up ten years ago...hell…now I have a nicotine buzz…’ The President grinned fondly as he glanced across his loyal and creased suited staff, raising the cigarette and blowing on the lit end, ‘Smoke if you like, but only if your colleagues agree…you must be worried about your families…take your jackets off.’
Several of the agents smiled, slipping their suit jackets from their shoulders, a couple producing cigarette packets and lighters as the President stepped forward, noting most of the agents’ shrug and nod in approval for their friends to smoke. Leaning in exhaustion on the bannister with one hand before three stairs leading down to the lower shining dark floor, his eyes narrowed in despondency as he looked up at the large screen before the operators, static lines spreading across a still image of outside, parked vehicles and low buildings presenting an innocent mining operators office, ‘You are probably all aware from the messages and reports you have received…we face the greatest threat to our existence of any time and we are losing…and relatively quickly. We have suffered losses far beyond what we could ever have imagined, our beloved country disfigured and contorted beyond any nightmare…our people are suffering and afraid of the future.’ He drew heavily on the cigarette, ‘Our allies are faring little better and Russia…well, they are struggling too…only China seems immune at present.’
The middle aged leader seemed to stiffen with resolve, drawing on the cigarette deeply, ‘The enemy is attacking continually as you know and now we have news of numerous drop ships descending into our atmosphere…we must presume this is the prelude to a final struggle for our survival…the survival of the American people.’ He grimaced, his frame straightening as his voice raised, ‘But we must focus on what we can still achieve, slow and delay this vicious enemy…deprive them of ultimate victory until they lose hope, buy time to develop a strategy and produce weapons that can drive them back…defeat them if that is even possible.’
The operators nodded slowly, many glancing down at their screens periodically, grey blue smoke beginning to billow around them, one agent rising nervously, her voice strained, ‘Mr President, sir…’ The female agent hesitated, the leader indicating for her to proceed, ‘Sir…I have been configuring some of the flight paths that this enemy seems to be following in high orbit as they descend. The jamming has distorted these projections, but I believe I have a possible destination for one group.’ The slim, black haired agent inhaled deeply, seeming reluctant to convey the message, ‘Mr President, our limited radar has produced a possible target for twelve of their separated high circling vessels…I presume from calculations they are coming here!’
The President pushed back from the balcony rail in alarm, his voice distorted in deepening worry, ‘Only to be expected, but sooner than I thought…secure all outer doors…raise full alert status, we fight here!’
Long Island, Boston
Moving cautiously along the boundary fence of the abandoned Missile Site, Rodrigues and the young marine strained their eyes further to the north, their pistols jerking from side to side nervously as the cracking of branches continued, both men wondering if the pistols would even be powerful enough to stop or kill one of the immense beasts they had seen.
The darkness seemed to be conspiring against them, flashing lights above the city and the enflamed Boston waterfront further to the north west the only illumination, the Morgon craft circling over the burning harbour buildings before descending to land on street intersections and squares, further grenadiers and specialist troops disembarking to continue the advance.
The young marine lowered further, edging along the high perimeter fence and staring into the murk, the path to the north seeming deserted, his ears straining as he still heard muffled movement through the dark trees, Rodrigues glancing round behind him. Distant lights seemed to twinkle to the south, the vison seeming in total contract to the scene to the north, the Latino realising many of the residents on the islands and mainland further south would have already fled or be frantically preparing to leave.
A hand slapped his shoulder, the young marine raising his pistol, ‘There is someone there…near the edge of the trees at the end of the fence…’ The soldier shook his head, realising Rodrigues could not hear him, his arms extending with the left hand sporting the right as he lowered his head to aim.
Then a startled hiss through the darkness, ‘Don’t shoot…I am alone with my dogs…I just want to get to the boats in the south!’
The pistol lowered as the younger man sighed, shaking his head, ‘Come out…we need to get moving. Do you live here? Is there a way into this base?’ His eyes widened as the slender female stepped from the trees, straining against two leashes as the panting dogs pulled on their leads, keen to escape the evil they sensed further north.
The teenage girl stepped towards the two men, the two Boxer dogs whimpering and tugging further, her eyes narrowing in strain as she pulled at the leashes, ‘The only way in is from the road in the centre of the island and I am not going there! There are four security guards, but they are old and stupid and will have locked themselves underground in one
