There was no turning back at this point. He held Ayla’s hand for a second while looking deep into her eyes studying them silently pleading for her not to follow. Logan gently released her. He turned to face the angry and unsettled men encircling the gangplank eight feet below on the bridge.
Intense and angry eyes stared at him as they held their positions. Logan looked down and panned the line of Marines while hauntingly staring down each of the twenty-inch long barrels of the M16A4’s which seemed to be pointed at his head in the event an instant kill shot was required. All it would take was for one to tap on the hair-trigger of the semi-automatic weapon and he would be done for eternity.
Once upon a time, as any normal person, he would have been unable to control his anxiety in such a situation. It was uncanny how over the last eight weeks of his life every turn, every step was some kind of new life-altering frontier for him. Sometimes it was physical, other times it was emotional and even psychological…everything had changed. He was forced to drastically alter his entire worldview. Logan wasn’t sure what normal was anymore.
As he looked down, second thoughts about what he was about to do surfaced. He imagined that at any second or because of any misinterpreted movement he made, fire would fill the air in the immediate area surrounding the tips of the hollow barrels of the M16A4’s as he was gunned down. It wasn’t because the Marines were bad or ill-intentioned. They were soldiers, the best in the world at what they did, which at this point in time included defending the country they swore an oath to protect. It was a matter of doing their duty. There was no way for them to know who he was, or why this alien monstrosity was perched on the bridge in the middle of Washington D.C. a stone’s throw from the Capitol Building close enough to be observed from its hallowed halls, balcony’s and parking lots.
In a strange twist of thought, Logan began to fear for the Marines. They had no idea about Joseph and what he would do if he were to see them move in any aggressive manner toward him or feel threatened in any way. If they rushed him and threw him face-first to the ground, as they were trained to do, it was certain that Joseph would not sit idly by and watch. While he had never witnessed it in person, from what he knew, it would mean certain death to the twenty soldiers who were simply doing their jobs.
One stood and yelled at him, trying to get his attention over the sound of the Black Hawks. Logan looked but was unable to correctly discern his rank. All he could read was the name Baker on the right side of the chest. He stood and was becoming more animated as he yelled and waved him down. When Logan didn’t move fast enough, the soldier lunged toward the gangplank intending to pull him down and force Logan to comply with his demand to surrender. With the rifle barrel pointed at Logan, his boot landed on the metal gangplank as he rushed him. The soldier abruptly stopped and fell backward as if running into an invisible barrier.
One of the M16A4’s to his left came alive and a round was fired at him. Logan clearly recalled seeing a golden flash where the invisible shield stopped a 5.56mm round from imploding his skull as it soundlessly ricocheted to an unknown location in the city. Logan realized that he needed to engage and ran toward the end of the gangplank. He lifted both hands while yelling at them to stop. It didn’t exactly imply that he was going to surrender but was clearly a plea to stop, suggesting there was no need for violence.
“I know this sounds like a cliché, but we really do come in peace.” The second the words were launched from his mouth, Logan regretted saying them. Baker, who he deduced as a Sergeant now that he was closer, simply looked at him as if he were a clueless dolt. “Look…there are American’s aboard this craft.”
“Get down on the ground!” Baker yelled with the M16A4 pointed at him.
“No. I can’t,” was his reply thinking of Joseph. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. Besides—”
“Get on the ground NOW!” he continued to yell. He moved toward Logan again and the tip of the rifle struck the invisible barrier, which seemed to drastically increase the anxiety of the armed men.
Logan knew how it was going to be. Outside of his stupid platitude, “WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!” Logan yelled out feeling a sense of urgency and becoming annoyed by the Sergeant.
“GET ON THE—” suddenly he stopped, stood up and looked blankly forward. Baker’s eyes took on an empty almost soulless stair. It was like a switch in the motor cortex in the brain had been turned to the offsetting for a moment. There was a slight wrinkle of his brow as if striving to discern what was happening to him or receiving instruction by some invisible entity.
The expressions of the faces of the Marines were like that of someone who was confused and lost matching that of Baker. Several fell out of their rigid stances and let the barrels of their rifles rest on the concrete bridge by their feet. One fell back so far that he landed on his butt and made no immediate attempt to regain his position. Another released his weapon and placed both hands on his head as if attempting to quell the voices haunting his mind. All of them began to look dazed and perplexed.
Logan feared that this was something Joseph was responsible for. He ran back to the closed door and began wildly pounding the metal with an open hand desperate to get someone’s attention. “Joseph! Joseph! Please stop. Don’t hurt these men. Duncan, please get him to stop!” Logan yelled. He looked back and the men, for the moment, seemed to have received some clarity and were retrieving their weapons. Their eyes were still blank as if having no idea where they were or what they were about to do as they raised the rifles and pointed them at the head of the soldier next to them. “Joseph…don’t do this. Please!” he cried out. “You have to stop!”
As if being instantly exorcised of an all controlling spirit, the men shook their heads and looked around in abject confusion. By the horrified look on their faces, each Marine knew what had just played out in his own mind and that they were mere seconds away from gunning each other down. None of them could understand why they were about to kill the man next to them, but each was afraid of what almost happened. For a moment, none of them were in control of their thoughts or motor functions. They were like helpless robots being reprogramed with the most sinister intentions. It was unsettling.
Baker straightened his finger, removing it from the trigger while lowering his weapon in deep consideration about being a fraction of a second away from shooting his fellow Marine in the head. He looked blankly up at Logan standing on the gangplank searching his mind for an answer. Confusion quickly morphed into anger and Baker became more adamant about getting to Logan before he could continue his mind games.
For the others, there was an undeniable sense of hesitation wondering if going after him again would trigger a repeat of the murderous hijacking of their minds. Would it stop if whatever it was occurred again, or would they see it through next time? How many would live to tell the tale, or end up tried as murderers?
“NO! I can’t do that. You need to put down your weapons and listen to me!” Logan demanded.
A white helicopter came into his view with big blue and red letters indicating that it was from a local news agency. It turned parallel to the bridge and exposed its side to him. A man by the side door was pointing a camera in their direction while hovering on the north side of the interstate.
Baker moved up to the invisible barrier that protected Logan and was clearly frustrated while staring him down. He lowered the barrel of the rifle and simply looked at him for a second, considering how to get through.
“Look, like I said, I am an American and we don’t have time for this nonsense. You need to listen to me…now!” Logan animatedly reiterated gesturing with his hands so that it was undeniable that the camera would see that he was civil and was attempting to communicate a message of extreme importance.
Baker stood erect and completely rested the semi-automatic rifle down by his side, “Okay. Let's hear the message. What is it you need to say?”
Something struck the autonomous craft hovering just off the bridge causing an explosion
. The percussion picked Baker off his feet and tossed him violently face first into the invisible barrier. Shrapnel pelted the area in all directions including the invisible shield protecting Logan. Several Marines fell to the ground writhing in pain after being thrown from their feet onto the concrete surface. Several had been impacted by flying debris. Logan looked past the bridge helpless and horrified as the enflamed helicopter banked to its starboard and crashed into a parking lot that recently filled with cars as people were attempting to get a better look at the alien craft on I-695. They scattered desperately, but the entire parking area was instantaneously engulfed in flames. He could hear the screams of frantic and desperate people either trying to elude the fire, pulling others out of the now useless automobiles or helping the injured, which seemed to be substantial in number and severity of injuries. Out of all his experiences to date, helplessly watching his fellow countrymen burn alive was gut-wrenching and almost too much to take in.
The instant the chopper blew up, the Black Hawk to the aft repositioned itself drawing Baker’s attention back toward the sky. The helicopter abruptly jerked to its portside as if attempting to elude something then drastically gained altitude. The second Black Hawk on the west side of the Bru responded in the same manner.
The gangplank began to lift forcing Logan to accept one of two options, follow it back up and reenter the Bru, or jump off and join the Marines down on the bridge. Ayla and the kids or the soldiers who wanted to arrest him and took a shot at him either purposefully or accidentally…turned out to be a more difficult decision than he would have believed. There was only a fraction of a second to decide as the area on which he was standing continued to decrease in length. The entire purpose of his being there, in the capital, was to warn, inform and help prepare the United States government for the impending threat in a manner that would allow the so-called leaders to devise a strategy to defend the nation.
It was obvious that something associated with the Kasadu was over the Washington D.C. area and the Bru had to move in order to defend itself. Was the theater of war about to be on display in the nation’s capital? It appeared to be unavoidable.
Logan knew that Ayla and the kids were protected by an infinitely superior force in the Viennin military while in the Bru. While only a small fraction of their Space Force was local, they were far more prepared to fend off the Kasadu forces. For the sake of helping the wounded Marines and to help them understand what they were facing and possibly saving their lives, he opted to join them on the bridge. Logan grabbed the base of the gangplank and swung down to lessen the blow of the fall and fell a couple of feet to the bridge landing upright on his feet.
The remaining plank disappeared beneath the belly of the Bru and the craft lifted off the bridge despite the minimal distance between the Black Hawks. The Bru spun ninety degrees and fired off a few rounds as it shot straight up into the sky. From the ground, Logan looked up and watched as the Bru, within a fraction of a second, disappeared toward the stratosphere.
Logan scanned the area and several of the Marines were bleeding badly and needed immediate medical attention. Baker was staring into the sky yelling into a mouthpiece about what he was seeing. Logan followed his gaze. A Schwan fighter zipped tauntingly past the Black Hawks in a show of superiority. The fighter stopped and hovered a hundred yards away. The barrels of the lasers and cannons moved up, down and side to side. Then, in the blink of an eye, shot several thousand feet straight up and then back down to the exact location as if to send a message to the United States military that they were infinitely inferior.
Logan ran over to Baker and pointed, “This is what I am here to warn you about! I need to speak with the President!”
Baker looked at him, squinted his eyes as if telling Logan he was nuts to think he had any reasonable opportunity to speak to the President. He continued to speak into the microphone that was pinned to his uniform.
Both men looked on as the Schwan fighter taunted the soldiers. The rear door of the Black Hawk was locked open and a soldier sat with an M4 in position ready to raise and fire. Initially, Logan thought that it would be useless against the Schwan but recalled shooting at the alien craft with the AR-15 when jumping from the top section of the rig that day in the Gulf of Mexico. The rounds had clearly affected the egg-shaped craft. He quickly deduced that the Schwan was a much different vessel altogether. By its design, even the novice could discern that it was clearly designed to fight. Perhaps shooting would be ineffective but sitting around doing nothing was useless.
In the blink of an eye, it paused then zipped past them within a distance of fifty feet and stopped over the rotunda of the Capitol Building then slowly turned itself toward the Black Hawks as if trying to force them to take action. The pilot of the Black Hawk that was originally on the backside of the Bru decided that he was done with spectating and the helicopter lunged into the direction of the alien craft. It had hardly moved ten yards when a bright red flash effortlessly sliced through the main rotor shaft sending the blades flying across the interstate. The blades smashed into the concrete rail prior to flipping over the side carried by its momentum as they fell toward the ground. The helpless Black Hawk dropped out of the sky like a rock and slammed onto the bridge crashing into the lifeless cars stalled by the initial EMP launched by the Bru. Many of those trapped by the purposefully stalled cars ran at first sight of the Bru. Others lingered with cell phone cameras in hand admiring the alien craft as if fulfilling a lifelong obsession to have a close encounter of some kind. Those who had opted not to run did not live to regret their poor judgment when the Black Hawk fell from the sky and crashed onto the bridge.
A fire erupted and Logan could see the soldier by the rear door moving. He immediately ran toward the chopper to try and help the injured but stopped as he saw a green glowing object cutting through the air from his left out of his peripheral vision. The soldier saw it too and looked up in time to see it strike the Black Hawk. The percussion from the explosion sent Logan and Baker flying backward rolling across the concrete bridge.
Logan rolled over onto his knees as he fought to breathe and lifted his arms over his head. Getting air into his lungs was a struggle and he fought to remain calm. Several times in his life the wind had been knocked out of him and it was impossible to get accustomed to. He just learned to panic less. It was only a matter of time until the body regained its control over breathing. With each expansion and contraction of his chest, the flow of air became easier and easier. After a minute, he was able to regain his footing.
Logan stared blankly at the wall of flames where the Black Hawk had crashed landed and thought about the dead citizens and soldiers that he was unable to help. Subconsciously he took a step forward toward the burning section of the bridge and kicked one of the M16A4’s that belonged to one of the injured Marines who was no longer able to wield it. He retrieved the rifle and looked the weapon over for damage and checked the chamber for a round. He scanned the area looking for the Schwan fighter, not sure if the 5.56mm rounds would so much as dent the metal on the Schwan fighter but opted to find out.
He checked to make sure the safety was off while panning the area. To his west, thick black smoke wrapped around the bridge rising up to the sky from the north and south sides. The wind was keeping it from invading their area of defense as they were now trapped with a fire behind and a raging fire that was scorching the bridge from beneath in front of him. He knew the source without seeing the debris zone directly. Logan needed to confirm his fear that the second Black Hawk was shot down. He ran across to the south side of the interstate and leaned over to better observe the carnage.
It was a horrific scene as the city was now ablaze, but Logan knew this wasn’t even the tip of the proverbial iceberg. This could hardly be considered a sample of things to come.
Sirens could be heard in the distance quickly advancing toward their position. It seemed like only twenty minutes had passed since the Bru landed on the bridge, although the clock in his head was c
learly off. Logan heard the screams of ten F-15E Strike Eagles as they raced over the area.
One of the Schwan fighters reappeared and was flying in the east toward the Atlantic Ocean. Logan let out a bit of a sigh of relief when he saw the Imil Nomo’s in pursuit no longer concerned about remaining invisible to human eyes. They passed at less than a thousand feet of altitude and were hardly little more than a blur, but he could make them out. The F-15s were heading west to join the party but the two alien craft simply turned on the dime and reversed course. The F-15s banked and reversed course intending to pursue but were woefully inadequate. Logan simply shook his head astonished that despite max speeds of 1,875 mph, the American fighter craft were far too slow to keep pace, much less make up ground.
“Alright! What was that and what is going on here?”
Logan turned to see Baker several feet away. There was blood on his face and hands. He gripped the rifle but did not point it at Logan. His stare was intense. It was obvious that he was serious about wanting an answer. He looked at the weapon in Logan’s hand and simply motioned for him to put it down. For a moment, Logan denied the request then realized the semi-automatic was ineffective anyway and set the rifle on the ground.
Universal Code Page 65
