Authors: Stuart Slade
“If
that’s it, this is something we can cope with.” Boothe spoke as if he was
trying to convince himself. He needn’t have bothered, the situation was
changing even while he spoke.
“More
coming out Sirs.” On the television screen, a second square was forming beside
the first, the stream of black figures emerging from the Hellmouth coalescing
into a second square to the right of the first. Even as it was completed, a
third square started forming to the left of the first. Still the figures poured
out, new squares forming until the line had seven in all.
“Assuming
the squares are all identical, there’s almost 47,000 of them down there. The
baldricks aren’t playing games are they?”
Wilkens
shook his head. Even as he did so, the line of seven squares started to move
forward and another wave of black figures poured out, forming into squares
exactly as their predecessors had done. The command center was utterly silent
as the imagery poured in from the cameras on the Global Hawk. The second line
of squares was finished, moved forward and a third row started, then a fourth.
By the time the figures ceased to pour out, there were eight rows in all, 56 of
the black squares spread out on the Iraqi sand.
“Rows
are divisions, the whole thing’s a Corps.” More nods of agreement, faced with
the huge numbers assembling on the screens in front of them, naming units
seemed trivial yet it was utterly important if the enemy was to be understood.
“Span of command is very large. Seems to run in nines.”
“Probably
personal command, we’re going to be looking at a slowly-reacting army here.
It’s very low-geared. Big but ponderous. Suits us just fine.” More nods around
the room. The United States Army was built to fight large, ponderous opponents.
It was beginning to look like it had finally found one.
“What
are those?” More figures were pouring out, larger ones. The UAV operator played
with his camera controls, zooming in on the new arrivals. They were baldricks
still but sitting on a beast, one that looked vaguely like a rhinoceros with a
great horn on its nose, but with a scorpion’s tail arched high over its back
and claws like a lobster.
“I’d
guess those are the cavalry. We don’t know how fast those things can move, mark
them down as priority targets.”
“More
coming.” The figures pouring out of the Hellmouth were flying, winged
creatures, like the harpies show down by the squids a couple of weeks earlier
but smaller. They landed and formed a last square. Seconds then minutes crept
by but no more baldricks joined the awesome parade in front of the Hellmouth.
The Global Hawk wasn’t equipped to pick up sound but nobody watching was in any
doubt that the desert was alive with the sounds of drumming and the hammering
of feet.
Hellmouth,
East of Ar Rutbah, Iraqi Desert Unnoticed in the noise and confusion, a small
winged structure danced in the dust and glare. It was an odd little thing by
anybody’s standards, a lumpy fuselage with two longish wings, a tripod tail
unit and a propeller was at the rear. Its name was an MQ-1B Predator.
The
Predator didn’t have markings which was hardly surprising, it’s operators, far
back at Task Force Iron’s command center weren’t from the U.S. armed forces,
they were Central Intelligence Agency. For almost five years, the CIA had been
operating a clandestine force of Predators, using them for covert
assassinations of terrorist leaders and others considered undesirable. That
role had abruptly ended with The Message, those who had taken the “submission
to the will” bit seriously had died, the rest had thrown their lot in with the
rest of humanity. Now, the U.S. Army and CIA had the strange but not unfamiliar
experience of working with people who only a few days before had been their
blood-enemies.
The
change had meant the Predators had a new job, one which was of absolutely vital
importance. It was essential to find out if human weapons, human technology
could be sent into Hell and return. More importantly, were those weapons as
destructive there as they were proving on Earth. If the answer was yes, then
humanity had a means of striking back at its foe, if not, then they would
forever be condemned to an ultimately futile defense. The Predators were the
vanguard of this exploration, the information they gained within the next few
minutes would mark the start of the investigation. It was, quite literally,
reconnaissance by fire. It’s orders received, the MQ-1B obediently turned
around and headed for the shadowy ellipse that marked the Hellmouth.
Headquarters,
1st Armored Division, Task Force Iron, Multi-National Force Iraq
Back
in the command center, the CIA operative held his breath as the little drone
approached the disk and became swallowed in it. Then, the whole section erupted
into wild cheers for on the monitor screen, images had emerged. Pictures of a
vast plain, bare rock under a swirling red-orange sky, dust clouds sweeping
backwards and forwards over the desolate scene. The image brightened and
sharpened as the computer-controlled adaptive optics compensated for the wildly
unfamiliar light levels and spectra but the images were there.
The
operator manipulated his controls, getting the vision head on the
electro-optical pod to pivot around. The pictures swirled, grotesque and
unfamiliar but still vaguely recognizable. The imagery was coming back, that
had enormous consequences.
“Tell
Washington, and everybody else, Phase One is complete. We got the bird in and
we’re getting data out. There is something the other side of that gate and we
can get at it.” The agent’s voice broke into a chuckle. “No huge letters of
fire yet, now we’ll try and change all that.”
He
played with the optical head again, looking for something important. He found
it, at least it seemed important. Some sort of review stand at a far part of
the field. The Predator was closing in on it, the trouble seemed to be that it
was hard to judge ranges in the red-clouded murk. A quick flash with the laser
rangefinder built into the Predator told him what he needed to know. The target
was four thousand yards away, easily within range of the two Hellfire missiles
hanging under the Predator’s wings. He locked their homing heads onto the stand
and fired them both.
Martial
Field of Dysprosium, Hell.
The
parade was over, the Army of Abigor had departed into the lower dimension, and
the guests who had watched it leave were making their way off the stand. It had
been quite an unusual sight, never before had such a force been sent to a lower
dimension to enforce the will of those above it. Defiance was unprecedented,
such a display had never been required. Now, with the mighty force appearing
before them, they would be regretting their failure to submit. The demons who
had watched the army leave never saw the two missiles streaking through the red
murk towards them, or, if they did, they never realized the significance of
what they were seeing.
The
explosions destroyed the stand totally, sending fragments of wood and stone
flying through the air, ripping into the hides of all around them. Blast seared
their skin, flaying flesh from bones, shattering limbs, tearing at bodies. What
had just a demonic second before been a decorated review stand was now a pile
of shattered wreckage, splattered with the green, yellow, black, red and white
body fluids of those who had been standing on it. Those outside the blast area
looked on appalled at the catastrophe that had suddenly enveloped the senior
guests. The more astute of them started running towards the disaster, hoping to
gain status and rewards by being the first to aid the stricken. Above the
chaos, still unnoticed by those below, the Predator turned around and flew back
towards the Hellmouth.
Headquarters,
1st Armored Division, Task Force Iron, Multi-National Force Iraq
“Phase
Two complete! Two solid hits, it’s chaos down there. Wherever it is, whatever
it is, our weapons work there. Look at that people, boy have we just kicked an
anthill over.” The CIA Agent’s voice was triumphant, the camera on the Predator
was showing a boiling mass of confusion where the target had been. He had no
idea of who or what he had just killed, if indeed he had killed them, but there
was no doubt of the destruction. The reviewing stand had gone, its position
marked by a pyre of smoke and flame. There was just one thing to check and that
was coming up soon. The Predator approached the Hellmouth and flew through it.
It took a second for the optics to readjust but when they did they showed the
blue sky and yellow sand of the Iraqi Desert.
“Phase
Three complete. UAV recovered.”
“Confirmed,
we have a radar paint.” The transponder in the Predator marked the position of
the drone as it set off on its long flight back to base. It had done its job
better that anybody could have hoped and certainly far better than its
manufacturers could have ever contemplated.
The
Oval Office, The White House, Washington D.C.
“My
fellow Americans.” President Bush paused, then shook his head. “No, my fellow
humans, for today we all stand shoulder to shoulder against a threat that
promised to engulf us all. Truly, in these desperate days, if we do not hang
together, we will all hang separately. Today, there are no Americans, no
Russians, no Japanese or Chinese or Australians. We are all humans together and
it is to each other that we must look for our survival. We cannot hope for aid
or help from others, we stand alone with only each other and the tools of our
joint ingenuity to protect us.
“We
have learned, beyond any shadow of a doubt that Hell and Heaven both exist but
that the doors to the latter are closed to us. If we lose the fight in which we
are now engaged, the entire human race faces only a screaming eternity. Hell
and Heaven both have, by both word and deed, declared their undying hatred of
Mankind united, and as such we return it tenfold. As of this day, we find
ourselves embroiled in a war, the war, Armageddon as it was never once dreamed
in the worst nightmares of our forefathers, a war not between Heaven and Hell
for our own salvation, but between Heaven and Hell and Humanity, a war we must
win completely and utterly if we desire the slightest chance of sparing untold
generations of future men and women a literal eternity of suffering. We claimed
to be fighting in a 'War on Terror', now we find ourselves allied with our
former enemies, they are our brothers in a wider struggle, on all of those who
would condemn humanity to an eternity of suffering.
“Once,
mere weeks ago, I would have prayed to God to have mercy on our souls. Now I,
and all others on this Earth, know better; the being many of us once worshipped
as a God has stated in no uncertain terms that there will be no mercy on our
souls. To that 'God,' to Lucifer, to all the angels and devils massing to rend
and destroy the hope of Humanity's future, I respond: You who would show us no
mercy shall receive none in return, for the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve
do not suffer betrayal!
“Today
we struck our first blow at our oppressors. Acting on national intelligence
information received from reliable informants, a Predator aircraft operated by
an intelligence organization struck at a major enemy leadership figure. It is
believed the attack was successful and the target was killed. This is the first
in a series of targeted assassinations aimed specifically at the enemy
leadership. There will be more. They will not know where the blows will come
from or when they will strike but there will be more.
“In
the war we are about to fight, we will take casualties, probably more than at
any time in our history. But in this war, our fight does not end with death. I
charge those who fall to spread the word in hell. Humanity is coming. We will
not stop, we will not cease, we will not fail. To all those in hell we say,
hold fast, we are coming. No matter what it costs, no matter what the
sacrifices we must make, no matter how long it takes, no matter who we trample
on the way, we are coming for you. You will be freed, your souls will be
liberated from torment. You will be saved, not by prayer or submission to the
will of some self-proclaimed deity but by the force of our arms. No human will
be left behind. I will say that again so there is no misunderstanding. Myths
speak or rapture in which many will be ‘left behind’. This may be their way but
it is not ours. We serve notice. No human will be left in the clutches of those
who would hold us in bondage for all eternity. On that promise may our enemies
rest in an uneasy and frightened sleep.
Thank
you, and good night.”
Thanks
to White Haven for valuable inspiration and much of the content of The Speech
Chapter
Six
Throne
Room, Infernal Palace of Dis, Hell.
“And
exactly how did they spontaneously explode?” Satan’s voice had a silky, oily
quality to it that was far more unnerving than any of his berserk rages.
“We
don’t know Sire. We found bits of metal in the wreckage so we think it was one
of the human machines but we don’t understand it.”
“A
machine? A human machine you say? They invaded my territory and killed four of
my subjects with a machine?” The silky, oily quality was fading, replaced by
the hysterical screams of rage. The audience found that immensely reassuring,
it was business as usual. The unnatural calm had been horrifying from its
unprecedented nature. A raving, screaming temper tantrum was much more
familiar. “And nobody saw it?”