Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1) (25 page)

“You’re more than a tool, Lucia,” she said.
 

“I am a tool, Joan.”

Joan slipped an arm over Lucia’s tiny shoulders and gave the angel a hug, citrus hung in her shiny black hair. “Well I think you’re more than a drill bit. Go relax awhile.” Lucia gave Joan a thin smile and wandered off.
 

Joan surveyed the army as the sun warmed her face. Young, brash, ready for war. All the pieces started to pull together, and what refused to fit before, slid into place. She needed to keep her secret tucked away from the others, at least until the fighting ended. She feared Daisy might decide to unravel all their hard work if Lucia’s words proved true.
 

44

Maria exited the C130 back ramp along with General Orlando at the San Jose international airport. The airport boomed with military activity. Jet fumes filled the air with its pungent scent as the group crossed the tarmac.
 

The Rangers unloaded from the transports and boarded Black Hawk and Chinooks helicopters. Conventional troops provided security for the airport closed to all traffic except the military.

Maria followed the general into a large lobby filled with uniformed men and women. The sights and sounds outside the lobby captivated her. The rumble of engines, and the excitable troops motivated her for the fight. A soldier called the room to attention as the general and his staff entered. The room fell silent, the troops stood to their feet.
 

“At ease,” the general said. The troops sat, yet remained fixed on the newcomers. “This is Maria. She will be helping us stop the demon headed our way. Can you tell them more, Maria?”

Maria nodded. “Lord Goth is the name of this herald. He is gathering more troops for the upcoming battle in Denver. I’m here to help you stop this menace. Their mission is to take San Francisco as a secondary base and recruitment center.”

“And they’re killing everyone while moving north,” an officer said. “Reports are coming in. Lots of distress calls and tales of people being crucified.”

“Lord Goth is going to do everything he can to recruit people. Crucifying the local populace is the best way to spread the word they are coming, so people are either joining up, or fleeing the area.”

A female officer lifted her head from a radio. She adjusted the volume on her headset. “General Orlando, the demon’s army is attacking Green County. The locals set up an ambush in Redfield.”

Maria’s stomach tightened, she turned to General Orlando. “Lord Goth’s army will fight and destroy anyone resisting their attack. General, can you send help?”

General Peter Orlando approached a large table covered in maps. He scrutinized a map of the contested area and trailed a thick finger along the green and yellow line denoting the highway. He turned towards a soldier who sat behind a computer. “Son, pull up the Sat image for the area she’s talking about.”
 

The soldier typed his fingers along the keys. The screen flashed a real time satellite image. An area on the screen glowed red from flames. “The enemy burned a city, sir.”

General Orlando’s eyes narrowed. “Pan North.”

Maria leaned in as the camera changed. Fifty pairs of headlights moved north along the freeway. The city swallowed in flames sat to the south. “How long before they get to Redfield?”

“Give them about an hour, ma’am.”

Maria stepped away from the computer. “I’m going to stop Lord Goth, general. I’ll hold them off long enough to get those people out.”

General Orlando clicked his tongue. “Come now, Maria, you think I’ll let you go by yourself?”

Maria smiled, relieved at the general’s willingness to help. “Thank you, sir.”

The general gave the angel a curt nod and turned to his colonel. “Let’s go kick some demon ass.”

Green County Sheriff Willie Sands stood on a twenty-story building rooftop. The building overlooked the barricade erected to stop the enemy troops headed north. Sands used night vision binoculars to study the entire terrain. The city glowed in a radiant green light from the glasses he held to his stern face. Below him, armed citizens and local law enforcement moved trucks and vehicles into position for a defensive line along the north and southbound freeway lanes.
 

The sheriff lowered his binoculars to take in Redfield with his own eyes. The city shone with lights from buildings and streetlamps. He checked the time, and as planned, the lights began to shut off throughout the town. A brine laced ocean mist rolled thick into the darkened streets to shroud the defenders.
 

Sheriff Sands and the other civic leaders decided to stand and fight against the scourge. They took the idea to the county residents. The majority wanted to stay, fight, and defend the town, a small portion refused to tangle with the enemy soldiers. He ordered the noncombatants to leave Redfield and never return.
 

Sheriff Sands called as many leaders as possible, from the ranchers in the hills, to the gang bangers in the barrio. He asked for a truce for the moment, and hoped everyone ignored his or her differences for a much higher purpose. All agreed, and below his hasty plan appeared.

Surrounded by his deputies from the SWAT team, the sheriff headed to the streets for last minute checks. So far, the reports from the south county cities broke his heart. Portero Heights burned in flames. A church congregation who decided to stay ended up slaughtered and crucified. Other smaller towns cleared out and headed for the hills as the enemy contingent continued to move north to Redfield.

Sheriff Sands ordered the civilian force to mass several vehicles to create a hard frontal defense. The barricade included huge farm trucks, semi-trailers, cars, and busses. The busses, with seats removed and the interiors reinforced with welded metal plates, protected the shooters inside. Antitank rockets, rifles, and mortars procured from the local National Guard armory completed their weapons arsenal. The barricade stretched across the freeway east to west, each side reinforced with huge warehouses filled with local fighters perched on rooftops, armed and ready for battle.
 

A good distance behind the line sat a casualty collection point. Ambulances, doctors, nurses, and an additional security force stood ready. Cars, reinforced with sandbags and concrete blocks, protected the casualty area. Cots in the hundreds sat underneath raised tents, this included a field operating room located not too far from the lines. Firefighters waited in the area also, their trucks ready to respond to put out fires once the battle started.

Sheriff Sands walked along the line joined by several retired military officers. They inspected the civilian fighters. Everyone faced the highway stretching south into the thick mist from the ocean.

Sheriff Sands gazed at the somber faces for a few seconds. “Be brave people, be brave. This is for your families, your country and your homes. Don’t dare run, if we run here we will always be running. I’m willing to die fighting, on this spot, to let the world know we didn’t turn tail and take off like everyone else. This here battle is for both God and country.”
 

His words echoed off into the morning fog, staggered cheers rose up into the cool air. The fighters prepared themselves for battle. Many knelt to pray in clusters, some fingered their rosary beads and mouthed silent prayers. Minute by minute the entire area fell silent. Distant engines roared from the fog laced southbound freeway.

45

Twenty Black Hawk helicopters and three Chinooks floated on the fresh morning air like giant insects. From a distance, they resembled black specks against the dark skies. As they approached the hills, rotor blades cut the dawn with a heavy “whumph whumph” rhythm.
 

Maria sat secured in her seat by canvas straps. The Black Hawk active rotors drowned out every other sound inside the metal bird, so the leaders wore headsets. Her lower stomach knotted. Her eyes swept the young troops seated in the compartment. Some dozed while others remained wide-eyed like her.
 

General Orlando sat near the front and remained silent as the scene scrolled beneath the helicopters. The freeway sat jammed with abandoned vehicles. Within the different cities they flew over, thick black smoke rolled into the sky. The sun broke from the east, spilling orange sunlight between two hills. The general pointed to the south.

“What is that,” he said. The pilot shook his head, and with a gloved hand tapped the headphones. The general pressed a button for his microphone and asked again. “What is that?” He pointed towards the thick gray wall a mile out to their south.
 

“Fog, sir, and too thick for us to go through.”

Maria listened to the conversation between the pilot and the general. “We can’t wait here. Lord Goth and his army will be in Redfield soon.”

General Orlando turned towards the angel. “We can’t risk going through fog, Maria. We might run the choppers into a hillside.”

Maria shook her head. “We will get through this.” She disconnected the canvas straps, pulled off the headset and moved herself from the seat. “Open the door.” She amplified her angelic voice and gestured her thumb at the helicopter side door. “I need to get out.”

General Orlando nodded at the Ranger who sat next to the door. “What are you going to do?”

“Make a hole,” she said. The Ranger yanked the side door open. “Tell them to follow me.” Maria leaped from the open door and into the cool morning air.

Maria spread her arms wide and free fell towards the earth. With eyes closed, she enjoyed the fresh air through her thick black hair and against her brown face. She savored the lightness as she glided down to the earth. She consumed the precious moment until her mind and body filled with joy. She swallowed the pure joy and freedom and turned her mind to war.

First, her silver Roman helmet donned her beautiful head with its golden flowers. White horsehair crested the helmet from the nap of her neck to stop above her forehead. Over her torso, armor emblazoned with golden flowers on vines, formed a perfect fit as the metal etched down her muscled abs.
 

A silver skirt made from plate armor wrapped around her waist and stopped mid-thigh, silver greaves covered her shins. Her white wings spread out across her back and caught the air. With her left hand, she reached for her sword and drew the blade. She soared from underneath the Black Hawk helicopters and towards the heavy fog.
 

Maria lifted her right hand. A long golden horn appeared in her grasp. She placed the horn to her full lips and blew. The horn called long and deep. The fog churned and rolled apart before the helicopters.
 

She continued on, her sword arm pointed ahead, her sharp blade shimmered. The heavy haze pulled apart like cotton to make a path for the helicopters.

Tensions heightened for the civilians armed and posted along the defensive line. Engines rumbled in the distance and within minutes faded off as if absorbed by the fog. Silence hung heavy amongst the fighters. Their breaths rose in scattered white puffs.

Gunfire cracked and lit the fog in rapid sparks. Bullets whirred, screams erupted, and the defenders unleashed an undisciplined volley into the thick mist. An explosion on the eastside barricades erupted in an orange cloud mixed with black smoke. More screams rose. The gunfire intensified.

Sheriff Sands did not expect the sudden blast from his right. The barricade, several busses, and trucks combined into a wall, burned a bright orange and red. Melted rubber, plastic and roasted flesh filled the air with their horrid stench. Civilians aflame ran as medical personnel rushed forward to douse their burning bodies. Bullets buzzed overhead, plinked into metal and smacked into flesh. The wounded screamed on cue.

The fighters reloaded and fired rounds into the mist with no targets in sight. Others hid behind objects solid enough to stop bullets and never fired a shot. Sands pulled his SWAT team together and ordered them to calm the fighters. His team scattered to correct the problem.
 

Soon the gunfire subsided along the line. He realized the enemy stopped their pot shots seconds before his side ceased fire. The enemy tested their reaction to gunfire. Gooseflesh rose along Sand’s skin as black smoke billowed into the air. Firefighters shot water into the flames.
 

Sands strained to control his fear. Medics and volunteers armed with stretchers charged into the chaos. They moved the injured and dead to the casualty collection point located at the rear. SWAT reported in and surrounded him. The mayor, along with a few other politicians, found a secure spot within the new building above the danger. He expected more from them than to hide and hope not to engage in battle.

Sands stood in the street and gazed into the fog. The delicate droplets swirled in the southbound freeway. The heavy silence became unbearable as the fighters assumed their positions and waited. Gunfire hit the air again. This time the defenders forced themselves to be brave. The enemy emerged from the mist like phantoms.

46

Gunfire cracked and popped as the firefighters conquered the blaze on the right. The buses and farm vehicles hissed with steam as a few brave souls retook defensive positions within the burnt husks.
 

Sands breathed the scorched air. A low whoosh swept above his head as if a giant bird dominated the sky. He canted his head upwards and strained his eyes against the thick fog. Sulfur’s stench poured over him so strong his troopers coughed and gagged.

The sheriff’s eyes blurred and burned. More gunfire erupted. The shooting came from among them. A terrible scream ripped the tense air. When he stared up again his throat constricted, blocking a scream before the monster swooped down and loped off his head with a wicked battleax.

Lord Goth landed and shoved the fat headless body aside. The human’s body struggle a moment, the arms jerked akimbo, fingers twitched before the lifeless mass fell to the ground next to its head. He swept his red eyes over the area. Exhilaration pounded through him. He confronted a group who wanted to fight back. He became annoyed at the Bible thumpers who fled once his army showed up to do battle.