by Evan Currie
Ben nodded absently, noting but not paying much attention as Kirth and some of the Marines made it down and started to gather.
“We need to find the core,” He said.
“Took the words right out of my mouth, Corporal. You still have the scanner?”
He sighed, “It’s either in the chopper still, or…”
He looked around them helplessly and shrugged.
“Understood.”
There wasn’t a lot more to say, Jan supposed. She could hardly fault the man for having lost his gear considering he’d just been through a crash landing, then yanked from the craft by an Abomination, and finally been tossed around like a chew toy.
She was somewhat more impressed he was still alive, let alone standing on his own power, if she were honest about it.
“The core has to be nearby,” Ben said wearily, slumping a little as he favored his injured side. “No way that thing has ample range. I don’t care if we did underestimate it.”
Jan nodded, slowly turning her head to take in the trees around them. “Agreed. Hundred meters, not much more.”
“Are you two fucking serious?” Kirth demanded, looking quite irate. “This thing just took a Yankee out of the sky and you’re debating how close it is and how much you underestimated it?”
“Sergeant,” Burke sighed. “Easy.”
“I’m sorry, Major, but we just lost three more guys up there,” Kirth jerked his thumb up to where the chopper was still hanging, blades slowly turning. “And these two are talking like they made a minor mistake on the range!”
Jan sighed, “Sergeant, when fighting abominations, this was a minor mistake on the range. We’ve seen cities erased over less. Be thankful that we’re contained a fair distance from any large population centers.”
She was about to say something more but stopped abruptly and looked up in time to see the black mass of the abomination moving again.
“Ware above!” Jan called, throwing herself to one side as she swung her weapon around.
Everyone scattered, scrambling for cover as best they could, the writhing mass descending on them no matter what they tried.
*****
Chapter 24
USS Port Royal
Commander Giselle Ericson pushed her way onto the bridge of the Port Royal, grimacing as the heated air swept over her and she felt the glass crunch under her feet. She took a moment, looking around, and spotted the Captain on the ground.
“Get him below deck,” She ordered the seaman who was cautiously following her. “The doctor is waiting.”
“Yes Ma’am!”
As much as she wanted to check on the Captain’s state of being just then, Giselle had other priorities. A glance out over the forward deck of the ship and beyond showed that the Royal was drifting slightly, moving off course, but any damage seemed to be limited.
“Get these stations manned,” She ordered, finding the communication’s console and picking up the handset. She flipped it over to the shipwide. “All stations, all hands, we are still at general quarters. The blast front of the nuclear device has passed. Return to your stations if you have not already. I say again, we are at General Quarters.”
With that said she dropped the handset back in its cradle and put in the command to set the ship’s alarms to action.
The Royal echoed with the sound of the General Quarters alarm, and she could almost hear men and women rushing back to the more exposed stations they’d been ordered to abandon in the face of the blast.
The B-61 was a variable yield explosive warhead but had been dialed up to four kilotons. The shockwave could have broke them, but the Captain had taken the chance. Both to try and push the enemy out into the open, but also for what happened after.
She patted the RADAR officer on the shoulder as he passed her, “Find the contact. Do it now.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
The Port Royal was, without question, the closest ship to the enemy contact out of the task group. That had been a calculated decision and plan on the Captain’s part, one that had fallen to her to see through.
“The SPY is powering up. I think the hardening held against the EMP Ma’am!”
“Get us online, and do it yesterday,” She said, moving across to the weapon’s board. “You too. We need to those missiles back in action ASAP.”
The Ensign there nodded quickly, “Working on it. We’re running checks as fast as we can, but we were close to that blast Ma’am. There’s no way to guarantee the electronics held.”
“Pray they did.” She said, though she knew the Captain hadn’t been relying completely on that. If they could just get the SPY up and the Aegis system running, the rest of the Task Group had all the missiles they’d ever need.
We just need to find the contact and give them a shooting solution.
*****
CVN-81 Doris Miller
Admiral Morrow tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, trying to will the systems back to full functionality.
The EMP from the blast hadn’t taken down their systems entirely, but it had certainly disrupted communications across the task group quite effectively.
They were blind and deaf for the moment, and it was maddening.
Every system was dead or just showing static at the moment. They hadn’t even recovered the satellite uplink due to ionic interference localized around the blast. He understood that would clear shortly, but for the moment…
The Dory was in the dark.
*****
SSN-788 Colorado
“Everything checks, Sir. We’re still intact. The blast didn’t transmit through the air-water interface sufficiently to do more than minor damage.”
Woods grunted, “Was a hell of a ride though. Do we have SONAR?”
“Negative. The blast wave may not have transmitted enough to crush this tin can, Skipper, but it blew out our Mics like you wouldn’t believe.”
Woods sighed, “Can we fix it?”
“Not under way, it’s going to be a dry dock job.”
The Captain of the boat sighed but nodded in understanding.
“Take us up to fifty feet, and standby to extend the mast. Let’s see what’s going on up there.”
“Aye skipper!”
*****
Argonauts
The sound of cursing filled the cockpit of the fighter as Elise fought the advanced avionics with everything she had, all the while trying to keep the systems from completely shutting down on her.
“Hardened against EMP my ASS! I’m going to find the designer of this piece of shit and make them wish I’d dropped one of those damn bombs on them instead of on the hostile contact!”
The F35 was, like all modern air superiority fighters, designed to be an unstable platform. Riding right on the edge of stability gave an aircraft unparalleled maneuverability, the capacity to go any direction at the slightest hint of a whim.
However, in order to make that function, it took advanced computer- controlled stability systems.
Elise was currently flying with hers significantly retarded by the impact of the EMP blast from her own weapon.
This just sucks.
A system reboot in mid-flight wasn’t something she was particularly keen on, but it was looking more and more like it was either that… or punch out.
It was not a system that was intended for a cold reboot in flight. In fact she wasn’t entirely sure it was even possible.
Thankfully, the avionics had their own backup power, which meant that she could still fly the damn thing, but it was akin to riding a bronco with a grudge more than anything she was used to.
With her communications disrupted, she wasn’t even sure what had happened to the rest of the squadron.
Elise put that out of her mind for the moment, however, and began the process of rebooting the flight control system even as she fought every tiny gust of wind and pocket of turbulence she flew through.
*****
USS Port Royal
Th
at looks interesting, very interesting indeed, Giselle thought as she stared out over the bow of the cruiser, using a hefty pair of field glasses.
Smoke was visible low in the water, off their port side a bit and a few miles ahead. She wasn’t sure what it was yet, not with their AN/SPY 1 RADAR down and the Aegis system largely offline, but she was feeling good that it was the contact they’d been hunting.
“Spy Up!”
The Commander lowered the glasses, half turning, “Good! Get me a shooting solution on that contact ahead to port and confirm it’s the bandit.”
“Aye ma’am!”
She dropped the binoculars back in the box she’d taken them from and made her way back inside. The engines of the cruiser were whining back up to full power, and she could feel the surge of the Port Royal under foot as it cut the waves now that it was properly under guidance and power again.
“Make for the smoke ahead,” She ordered. “If it’s the enemy contact, I want it in our sights, and if it’s one of ours… well, we’ll see if there’s anyone to pick up.”
“Aye Ma’am. Adjusting course to port,” The Helmsman confirmed.
The wind was whipping through the now open bridge, a feeling she rather found she liked at the moment in actuality, though Giselle had no doubt it would get old in a hurry when the weather turned.
“Target locked in Ma’am.”
“Aegis up! We’re linked into the task group!”
“Yes! Confirm the identity of the target!”
“We’re still pulling down task group IFF codes… So far nothing of ours would be in the area, but there’s nothing from the… wait… The Colorado is on the board, they’re three miles North, North West of the target. All friendlies accounted for, Ma’am. It’s the bandit… Ma’am! It’s moving!”
Her eyes widened in shock.
After taking a Nuke!?
She didn’t pause, however, “RIMs up! Lock and load, send the targeting data to the fleet!”
“Aye Ma’am! Dory acknowledges, Task Group is responding. We’re clear to engage!”
“Flush the cannisters.”
*****
Alarms blaring, the Port Royal leaned over in the sea as it turned to align better with the target, steel flaps popping open across the Mk 41 Vertical Launch System to expose the pre-loaded Tomahawk missiles to the sea air.
Smoke and fire erupted across the cruiser as she flushed her cannisters, putting every tomahawk they had into the air.
Normally designed for land attack at considerable range, the Block Va variant of the venerable cruise missile was also the primary anti-ship missile in the fleet, taking over that role from the Harpoon. Each thirty- five-hundred-pound missile packed a thousand-pound warhead and active RADAR targeting into a shockingly compact frame.
And the Port Royal carried forty of them.
In a matter of seconds, the entire cruiser vanished in a cloud of smoke and fury as every single one launched into the air.
*****
SSN-788 Colorado
Woods smiled darkly as he looked through the optics at what was going on some distance away.
“Skipper, we’ve got active targeting data coming in from the Port Royal.”
“Good enough. Let them have everything we’ve got, Weps.”
“Aye, Aye Skipper.”
Woods took a breath of satisfaction as he felt the deep thuds of the vertical launch systems swing into action, the Colorado’s cruise missiles igniting and blowing out through the dozen meters or so of sea water before they leapt into the air and blasted away to deliver the compliments of the Colorado and crew to the bandit they’d been tangling with.
*****
The Doris Miller task group acted as one, every single member well and truly fed up with the situation.
Block Va Tomahawks exploded into action across every ship and sub in the fleet.
Aircraft that were still in the air responded with their own munitions, dropping torpedoes, air to surface missiles, and gravity bombs as they swept the target.
The resulting devastation didn’t quite match the blast that opened the festivities, strictly speaking, but still delivered well over a kiloton of conventional munitions to the already damaged target.
*****
CVN-81 Doris Miller
“We’re getting reports from the lead ships and aircraft, Sir… The contact is breaking apart and sinking.”
Morrow closed his eyes, uncertain if he was relieved or still numb to the whole mess.
What in the hell was that thing?
More concerning, if he were honest, was the other question that wouldn’t leave him be. Namely, were there any more like it?
“Thank you,” He said aloud. “I’ll inform the President.”
“Yes Sir.”
His aide backed out, leaving Morrow alone for the moment. He reached for the computer to open up the video call to the President and his advisors.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell them beyond the fact that they’d finally sank that damn thing.
I just hope to hell that will be enough.
He still couldn’t believe that the President had authorized the deployment of a special munition… and, worse, he couldn’t believe that hadn’t been quite enough to finish the target.
Someone better have some explanations for me over this.
*****
Chapter 25
Glades
Kirth hit the ground hard, rolling as he felt a distinct thud through the earth under him from the impact of the glistening black tendril just a few feet away. He had to push himself over another time to free up the M4 Carbine he had in straps, getting the weapon on target as quickly as he could.
The 5.56 NATO weapon barked as it kicked in his grip, Kirth firing quickly as he could place shots on the target as it moved. The rounds slammed into the tendril, eliciting a reaction, but little else he could see.
More weapons roared to life around him, and that got more of a reaction, especially when the Colonel’s weird tech rifle opened up with its distinctive sound, but none of it seemed to be enough. The target seemed to be hurt by it all, but not truly inconvenienced by any of it as best he could tell.
That didn’t stop him, or any of them, as they continued to fire while getting back to their knees and then up to their feet.
“Marines,” He called. “Fall back to the Major!”
His team began a fighting withdrawal, making their way to where Major Burke was getting back on his feet and drawing his service pistol. The Major carried a service issue Sig M18, and while Kirth had no doubts the major was proficient with the weapon, there was zero chance it was going to come into effective use in this situation.
*****
Burke swore under his breath, wishing he’d grabbed something heftier somewhere along the way, but since all he had to use was his pistol, that was what he’d use. The Sig Saur was a good weapon, there was no real question about that, but it wasn’t intended for this kind of fight.
Not that he could think of any weapon in the service that was intended for it, mind you.
Maybe a SMAW?
He could certainly go for a nice rocket launcher right about then, that was certain. The 9mm kicked in his grip as he forgot about what could have been and wished he’d had and just focused on emptying the magazine into the target.
It was clear to him that the visitors, whatever else they were, hadn’t been joking about how dangerous these things were.
And they consider this… thing… a low-level threat?
Burke did not want to see what they considered a high level one.
He heard the Sergeant getting control over the squad and left that to the Noncom while he tried to figure out what the hell they were going to do in the long term.
Withdraw seems best, we still have the Gunrunners up there, their Supercobras have enough munitions to turn this section of the glades into a fair approximation of hell.
He checked around, looking for a path to safely wi
thdraw, or any other options he might have at hand.
This thing has the area pretty well infiltrated, and the swamp to the east will make any movement in that direction… less than ideal, at best. We need a clear area for pickup, or at least somewhere we can control the fighting from.
He spotted a foot path, half overgrown, but it looked to parallel the swamp edge. A hunter’s trail perhaps, or maybe something else, but it was the best option for fast movement they had at the moment.
“Sergeant,” He said as the others got over beside him.
“Sir!”
“That foot path over there,” He pointed. “Fighting withdrawal… to the north, if I’m remembering the terrain correctly. Sound about right?”
Kirth paused, eyes flicking up and to the left before he nodded.
“Yes sir.”
“Make it happen,” Burke ordered.
Kirth nodded curtly, then turned to the others. “New orders Jarheads! Tactical withdrawal, I want a tight formation down that path. The Major is in the middle. I’ll take up the rear. Driscoll, cover the point. Everyone keep this thing distracted until we’re ready to move!”
Burke left the Sergeant to the task, looking over to the Colonel and Corporal where they were reacting in their way.
“We’re pulling back, once we’re clear I’ll call in an airstrike on the whole region,” He called out to the Colonel.
She glanced at him, “Understood. Corporal, I believe it’s time to…”
Burke’s eyes widened as he saw the black glistening mass move in her direction, shockingly fast. He was starting to call out a warning, but before he could the Colonel was struck hard by the Corporal and shoved even harder.
She went flying through a thicket of branches and such, but the exchange of energies meant that the Corporal was caught in position as the mass came down.
He was hammered into the ground, writhing tendrils looping around him, and then yanked up out of the muck and pulled off into the spotty darkness in the shadows of the cypress trees.
“Shit!” Burke swore. “Fuck! New plan, Sergeant! SAR! Go!”
Kirth’s response was somewhat more colorful than his, but he was already moving into action.
Never let it be said that a Sergeant in the Marines is slow on his feet, Burke thought, amused despite the situation.
