War Of The Four Worlds

by Michael Anderle

  They emerged from the basement to find Thomas wagging his tail and staring at them from right in front of the basement stairs. He barked and ran around in a circle.

  “It’s not playtime, boy.” James pointed to the dog. “Take him downstairs, Shay. Get him some food and water and lock him in there. If they blow the rest of the house, the basement should survive. I made sure of that shit after the last time. If they take my ass out, you run. You can get your revenge later.”

  Shay frowned. “I should be out there with you.”

  James shook his head. “If they can take me out with Whispy on, your ring and pendant aren’t gonna be enough.” He took a deep breath. “Promise me.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait inside, but if they don’t kill you right away, I’m joining in the fun. Okay?”

  “Fair enough.” James shrugged.

  Shay grinned. “And be careful.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?” Shay raised an eyebrow.

  James gave her a feral grin. “They’re the ones who need to be careful.”

  Shay grinned back. “That’s more like it. Remind those fuckers who you are.”

  Thomas barked again, and Shay shooed him downstairs.

  James waited a few more seconds before marching over to his front door. He threw it open and stepped onto his porch. He stood and waited for the government vehicles to arrive, ignoring Whispy’s increasingly strident calls for mayhem and death. A thousand years might pass, but the amulet would continue to offer the same advice: kill and grow stronger.

  Three black dots down the street morphed into sedans with tinted windows. The vehicles didn’t scream down the street, instead obeying the speed limit. No one fired a weapon or an artifact.

  Two of the sedans pulled into the driveway, while the third parked along the curb. The back door to one driveway vehicles opened, and a familiar politician stepped out with a practiced smile on his face.

  “Hello, son,” Senator Johnston offered. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced and suddenly, but we’ve got a bit of a situation. I’m going to need you to come with me.” His gaze focused on the various implements of death James carried. “I probably should have called ahead, but we knew you were here, and we didn’t want to take the risk of tipping certain…people off.”

  James grunted. “You arresting me?”

  “Arresting you?” Senator Johnston looked bemused. “Now why would I do that, son?”

  No one else had stepped out of the vehicles.

  “Any tactical drones coming, Heather?” James asked, keeping his voice low.

  “Nothing nearby but a few traffic drones,” Heather replied.

  “Got someone else listening in, son?” Senator Johnston asked. “Miss Carson, perhaps? Or one of your little hacker friends?”

  James glared at the other man. “Are you here to fucking arrest me or not?”

  The confusion on the senator’s face deepened. “Even if I wanted to arrest you, I don’t even think that’s possible, not without your cooperation. We both know that. I had my opportunity to get rid of you, and I chose to save you for reasons I definitely don’t regret.” He gestured to the vest. “You thought I was coming to arrest you?”

  “Why is the National Guard mobilizing?” James barked.

  Senator Johnston smiled but didn’t answer.

  James frowned and realized something important. “Heather, is it just the Guard mobilizing?” he murmured. “What about the rest of the military?”

  “There’s been a little unusual Air Force activity, but nothing local. Wait. Huh. That’s weird.” A flurry of intense typing sounded over the line.

  “What’s weird?” James murmured.

  “Oh, one of my little spiders flagged something strange. If I understand what I’m reading correctly, the military is directly tasking a bunch of radio and optical telescopes all of a sudden,” Heather explained. “I’m not quite sure what that’s about. Meteor, maybe?”

  James had a few ideas about what they might be looking for, but the old man standing in front of him held all the answers. “What’s Operation Red Weed?”

  “You know, even the average soldier about to carry it out doesn’t truly understand what it is. The name’s a bit blatant, but sometimes the best way to hide something is right in the open. Everyone expects a lie, not the truth.” Senator Johnston heaved a heavy sigh and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m always telling everyone else to not underestimate you, but then here I go doing just that. You’re not just a man with extraordinary physical gifts, you have extraordinary resources and loyal personnel.”

  “Get to the fucking point,” James growled, flexing his fingers.

  Senator Johnston lifted his hands in a calming gesture. “I’m asking you, son, on behalf of your country and planet, to lend us a helping hand.”

  “What, this is just some job shit?” James snorted. “Some assholes like the Council or something? If you’ve already sent guys at them and they’ve lost, I’ll consider it, but I’m getting ready to semi-retire. I don’t know if I want to face off against someone like the Council and cause trouble for myself down the line. I’ve got a wedding coming up.”

  “If only it were so simple.” Senator Johnston shook his head. “This isn’t about bounties, son, or even dangerous magical criminal groups.”

  “Then what the fuck is it about?”

  Senator Johnston locked eyes with James. “One of your relatives is on the way, son, and he’s already been disagreeable. We think it’s best if you had a little talk with him.”

  ENGAGE AND KILL THE ENEMY, Whispy screamed in James’ mind. Achieve primary directive: destroy all Vax symbionts.

  Shut up. I need to concentrate.

  James didn’t realize he’d been growling for several seconds. “They’re here? Where?” Rage and anger flowed through him, the frustration of an entire life bubbling out.

  Sufficient power for advanced transformation, Whispy reported.

  Not yet.

  “Not here,” Senator Johnston replied. “Not yet. Oriceran. Lots of people have already died, son. I can’t talk about it right now in detail, but we have good reason to believe that your relative is coming to Los Angeles, and we need your help.”

  James lowered his head and shook it. “Fine. Let me get Shay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tyler crossed his arms. He and Maria walked down the hallway from his office in the back of the Black Sun on their way to the main bar. The conversation they had shared both surprised and irritated the information broker.

  I can’t believe Brownstone would stab me in the back like this. It’s one thing that he chose someone else, but he had to choose that smug drunken asshole Smite-Williams?

  “Fine, I’ll do it, but I’m a little pissed,” Tyler muttered. “I still can’t believe it, though.”

  Maria frowned. “Why are you pissed about Brownstone asking you to be a groomsman? It’s not like I thought you would fall down delirious with happiness over being asked, but you seem like you’re genuinely annoyed that he asked you. What gives?”

  Tyler shook his head. “I’m not annoyed he asked me. I thought he was going to offer me something else, is all.”

  “What did you think he was going to offer you? A big pile of money?” Maria rolled her eyes. “I know you’re greedy as hell, but that’s not how this works. I mean, you’ve been to a wedding before. You know how this shit is supposed to go down.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Tyler shook his head and stopped before they entered the crowded main bar room. “I just thought…” He would sound like an idiot if he said it aloud, but he’d backed himself into a corner.

  Shit. I should have just kept my mouth shut and not acted so surprised.

  “You thought what?” Maria asked, her face showing by bewilderment.

  Tyler sighed and averted his eyes. “When you started talking, I thought you were going to say that Brownstone wanted me to be his best man. Understand my irritation now?”
>
  Maria burst out laughing. She bent over, slapped her knee, and pointed at Tyler. “Seriously? You, Brownstone’s best man? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard this month.”

  The info broker crossed his arms and frowned. “It’s not that stupid or funny. You’re Shay’s maid of honor.”

  “Shay and I actually get along. Half the time you hate his ass and publicly rant about him.” Maria shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you would even agree to be a groomsman.”

  “Sure, I’ve got my complaints, but I’ve also worked with him. I provide him info, and I’ve shown my respect. You don’t understand because you’re a woman. Men are different.” Tyler nodded with smug certitude in an attempt to cover his embarrassment.

  “This ought to be good.” Maria rolled her eyes. “Do enlighten me, oh King of Men. Why should you be his best man?”

  Tyler slapped his chest. “You have to understand. Brownstone and me, we have a special relationship. It’s built on mutual respect and challenge. We bring out the best in each other by pushing each other to our limits. It’s why I’m rich now, and it’s why Brownstone recognized I could help him with things like the pay-per-view.”

  Maria rolled her eyes. “Because that went so well.” She waved a hand. “Sure, whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night. Anyways, Brownstone was rich before he met you, and, Tyler, what you’re describing is being frenemies, which is more a chick thing than a guy thing in most situations.”

  “Just saying,” Tyler grumbled. “It would have been nice.”

  A gang member turned the corner, heading toward the bathroom. His brow was furrowed, and he glanced at the front door. “Is some big shit happening, Tyler?”

  Tyler frowned. “There’s always shit happening, but you don’t get to find out about it for free. You know that. I’m running a business here. You narrow the scope of the request down, and we’ll talk about price. Then, and only then, do you get info. Unless you’ve got some info to trade me?”

  The gang member shook his head. “Nah, man. I don’t mean shit like that.” He nodded at the door. “I just came in, and I saw some weird stuff outside.”

  “You better not just be in here to use the bathroom,” Tyler replied, glaring at the man. “The bathrooms are for paying customers only. You better not think I won’t know, and you better not be even thinking about doing drugs in there. Neutral ground doesn’t mean anything goes.”

  Maria nodded her agreement, casting a stern gaze on the young gang member.

  “Nah, bitch, just listen already.” The gang member gestured toward the front door. “So I’m getting out of my car to come in, you know, and I’m seeing, like, all these Army trucks driving by. Soldiers full up with helmets and big-ass rifles like they’re ready to go fuck up the Council or some shit. I looked at my phone, and it ain’t saying shit about anything big going on, so why is G.I. Joe here?”

  What the hell?

  Despite Tyler’s surprise, he kept a calm expression. He didn’t want some low-level gang member seeing him disconcerted over learning something.

  “That’s interesting. Very interesting.” Tyler looked at the tv, hoping there might be a clue there. “Since when the hell does this crowd like golf?” he asked.

  “Maybe they know something.” Maria pointed at two uniformed officers sitting at the bar.

  Tyler, Maria, and the gangbanger walked over to the cops.

  “Hey, Jeff,” Maria greeted the older of the two cops.

  “Hey, Maria,” Jeff responded. “What’s up?”

  Maria glanced at the gang member and then back at Jeff. “You hear anything about anything going on? Anything that might involve the military? Coordinated level fives coming into the city or something?”

  Jeff shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything like that.” He frowned. “Except…we did get a notice to be on standby for extra shifts, but no one seems to know why.” He lifted his glass. It was filled with a dark liquid. “That’s why this is just Coke rather than rum and Coke. Hey, I figure a little overtime never hurt the bank account.”

  Tyler surveyed the room, his stomach tightening. He didn’t like to be behind when it came to useful information. “There’s no way a bunch of level fives is about to show up without me hearing about it. Do you know how much money that kind of information would be worth to Brownstone?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Tyler.” The cop shrugged, looking as confused as Tyler felt. “Maybe it’s a surprise visit by the President or some Oriceran bigwig?” Jeff snapped. “What if King Oriceran himself is coming? That would be cool.”

  Maria snorted. “This is LA, not some warzone. Why would it need to be—”

  Shrill alarms sounded from everyone’s phone simultaneously, and the golf vanished from the television. A familiar harsh tone played from the television, the alert signal for the Emergency Broadcast System. Every man and woman looked up at the tv with bated breath.

  The Seal of the Office of the President of the United States appeared with a large text overlay.

  Stand by for an emergency message from the President of the United States of America.

  “What the fuck?” Tyler whispered. He ran his hands through his hair. “What is going on?”

  Maria swallowed. “The last time I saw one of these was when the Galbrathians blew up the Seattle kemana.”

  The President appeared. He sat behind his desk in the Oval Office with a concerned look on his face. Silence swept the Black Sun.

  “My fellow Americans,” the President began. “It brings me no pleasure to have to contact you in this way, but it will be important in the coming days that the people of this country come together to aid the greater Los Angeles area in their time of need. That is what is greatest about our country: how we hold out a hand for our neighbor when he’s in trouble.”

  The gang member trembled. “What the fuck is he talking about? What’s going on?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Tyler snapped.

  The man swallowed and nodded.

  “Let me first provide some context,” the President continued. He folded his hands in front of him. “Many people are familiar with the so-called Broken Arrow scenario, wherein the government loses control of a nuclear weapon.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened, and concerned murmurs passed through the room.

  Oh, fuck me with a rusty spoon. A nuke?

  The President sighed. “But times have changed. It used to be that nuclear weapons represented the pinnacle of destruction on this planet. However, with the return of magic to Earth, other dangerous scenarios are now possible, including a scenario that wouldn’t have been as much of a concern before the gates opened. The incident requiring this broadcast doesn’t involve a Broken Arrow. It involves a Broken Wand.”

  Maria stumbled toward the bar and caught herself with one arm. “We’re so fucked.”

  “A Broken Wand,” the President explained, “is the official code for a lost MAMD: a magical artifact of mass destruction. I won’t lie or mislead you. Large numbers of trained and skilled personnel from the military, the Paranormal Defense Agency, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the Department of Homeland Security, along with skilled magical personnel on loan from Oriceran, are in the process of being deployed to the greater Los Angeles area to recover this artifact. Those personnel will locate and disable this device if possible, but there is a non-negligible chance of activation and the subsequent destruction of the greater Los Angeles area.”

  Every criminal, cop, and tourist in the bar stared at the tv, their attention glued to President. Many were slack-jawed.

  The President frowned. “Let me be clear: there is no terrorist threat at this time. This unfortunate incident has to do with a unique combination of events that is unlikely to ever occur again, but that doesn’t change the fact that millions of American lives are at risk, and we need to employ extraordinary measures to protect those lives. Therefore, in coordination with the governor, a State of Emergency is hereby declared, along w
ith martial law.”

  Several men shot from their seats. “What the fuck? Martial law?”

  “That explains the soldiers,” Tyler offered.

  “As of now, and based on consultation with experts about the risk areas, Los Angeles and Orange Counties are hereby under a mandatory evacuation order,” the President declared. “The National Guard is being deployed to perform block-by-block sweeps and help with the evacuation. Military transport vehicles and aircraft will be helping to facilitate the evacuation. If you can get to a major airport without blocking the roads, please do so. You will be flown to a safe location out of the potential influence zone of the MAMD. In addition, portals are being established in key locations throughout the region.” Several web addresses appeared on the bottom of the screen. “Visit any of these sites for a complete list of nearby locations, but I can already inform you that the Oriceran Consulate portals will take people to Sacramento, San Francisco, and San Diego. DHS and FEMA agents in those areas will provide temporary shelter for evacuees.”

  Tyler rubbed his temples. “This shit isn’t happening. No fucking way is this shit happening.”

  Maria swallowed, her face pale. “We trained for this scenario in the AET, but it’s something I hoped to never see in my own city.”

  The President’s expression hardened. “There are always those who will seek to take advantage of situations in times of trouble. While I encourage everyone to leave until such time as the evacuation order is rescinded, note that military patrols will be protecting the city at great risk to themselves until a full evacuation of all civilians is achieved. The governor has made it clear, with the support of the federal government and the White House, that there will be zero tolerance for looters or criminal activity. What we are about to attempt is dangerous, but the risk of millions of lives means it’s more dangerous not to leave. May God have mercy on us all in this dark time, and with any luck, you will all be able to return to your homes soon. Good luck, and God bless.”

  The Presidential seal replaced the man.