Vamps shook his head, then forced the Red Lord aside in order to speak. “This is a bad idea, Aymun. You can’t trust no demons.”
Aymun waved a hand. “Hell’s grip on demonkind is loosening. Many are returning to their former selves, which, I grant you, are mostly evil souls, but some—like our David here—are just misguided victims. David’s mother was a witch and offered his soul to an archdemon in exchange for great power. His punishment was unjust. Many punishments are unjust. Hell is a place deserving of very few.”
“Hell is a broken creation of a broken creator,” Vamps spat, then shook himself and apologised. “That was him not me.”
“I gathered.”
“So, you said you were looking for me? What now?”
Aymun shrugged. “I do not know, my friend, but whatever happens, we shall face it as Heaven’s warriors. We have won battles together, yes, but the war is not over. In fact, I fear it has only just begun.”
“I shall gut you all and wear you as a cloak. I shall wash my feet in your blood. I shall…” Vamps rolled his eyes and groaned. “Sorry, that was him again.”
“Once again,” said Aymun, “I shall assume such words are not yours. Shall we begin our journey?”
“Where we going?”
“To Portsmouth. We must inform Major Wickstaff that there are people here in this forest. We must start working together to rid this world of evil, so to Portsmouth we shall go. Destiny leads us south.”
Vamps smirked. “A reunion sounds sweet. Let’s skiddaddle, bro.”
And so they did.
57
TONY CROSS
Tony Cross didn’t know why he’d been hailed by General Thomas, but he had a bad feeling about it. As a captain, he hadn’t spoken with the General directly before, and he took most of his orders from Major Harvey who was a pompous prick at the best of times.
Most of the Sandhurst elite were dead, which was why Tony was now a Captain instead of a sergeant, and why he’d been deeply involved in the Middle East operations—jokingly labelled ‘Operation Bring Back Gaddafi,’ referring to the fact the dictator had been a far preferable enemy to the one they now faced.
After the human counter-offensive, Turkey had been liberated quickly, due mainly to its role as a forward-positioning base for western forces. The United States air base there had given humanity a massive advantage against the scattered demon forces. They had used the nation as a launchpad to liberate Syria, already full of armed locals, then Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel. Each country they reclaimed gave them more resources, more men, and more equipment. They took their time, but eventually they had reclaimed Iraq too, and then stomped a foothold into Iran. They were spreading out slowly and cautiously, closing gates and killing the Fallen as they went. They even had a regiment full of willing victims prepared to jump into the gates to close them. Many were locals, old or ill, but several more were devout Muslims who felt it was their calling to die for the sake of others. They were the bravest people Tony had ever met.
The demons were beginning to amass in Iran and Saudi Arabia, the smaller groups forming together and forming greater masses, like cancer cells beneath a microscope. There was much fighting still to be done, but mankind was strong and united. The contingent of the human resistance had left the Air Force base at Incirlik, relocating to what had used to be Camp Victory. It surrounded Baghdad airport and was the most secure area of the eastern front.
Tony had been instrumental in gaining that security.
So why did General Thomas want to see him?
General Thomas was a stoic, no-nonsense kind of man, and as such, he conducted business in a large tent outside rather than inside one of the many cement buildings.
Tony marched across the tarmac and approached the guard outside the tent. He didn’t know the corporal, but then there were sixteen-thousand soldiers, of mixed nationality, currently working out of the base.
“Business?”
“Captain Cross reporting to General Thomas as requested.”
The soldier nodded. “You’re late.”
“I’m five minutes early.”
“That’s late.” The soldier pulled aside the flap so that Tony could enter.
The only things inside were a large desk and chairs, a laptop and radio, a cot bed, and General Thomas.
“You’re late.”
Tony saluted and stood to attention. “I apologise, sir.”
The general had his hands behind his back, but he brought them forwards now and pulled out a chair. “No matter. Sit.”
Tony took a seat on the other side of the desk. He began fidgeting, which annoyed him. The world had ended, and so had his contract of employment. He took orders from this man because he chose to, not because he had to. Yet, a general was still a general. “You wanted to see me, sir? How can I be of service?”
General Thomas pulled a pipe and tobacco from the desk draw. “Do you partake?”
“No thank you, sir.”
“Do you mind if I do?”
“No.”
“Good.” He started to fill the pipe, but kept his eyes on Tony while he did it. “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Tony shuffled in his seat, straitened up, and offered his full attention.
The general began. “Major Harvey is taking over operations in the desert. As of tomorrow, he will be General Harvey.”
“Oh, that’s excellent news, sir. Major Harvey is a good man.” And a pompous prick.
“Indeed, indeed. That probably leaves you wondering what is going to happen to me, and why I have asked you here?”
“Well… yes, sir.”
“Major Harvey isn’t the only one getting a promotion. You’re a good man, Captain Cross. In fact, you’ve done more good on the ground than anyone. The men speak highly of you, and your troops are the most lethal we have. Closing that first gate in Syria could even be described as the turning point of this
