Between Heaven and Hell

by Jeff Kirvin

  Finally, Daniel heard a familiar voice.

  “How you feeling, sir?” Jack asked as he fell into step at Daniel’s side.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Daniel answered. “Susan was one of my best and oldest friends. We’d been through so much, and I really don’t believe I would have survived to tell the world about the immortals without her. But when I see what her sacrifice has bought us…” Daniel waved his arm around to all the new recruits.

  “Yeah, I know,” Jack said. “She’s a hero.”

  “And a martyr,” Daniel added. “And the shitty thing of it is, I know how to use that to our advantage as well, when the time is right.”

  “So what do we do now, sir?”

  “Just before her death, Susan mentioned Azrael and some kind of strike force. She said they’d be ready to move in a few days, but I’m betting now that their cover’s blown they plan to move much sooner. We have to be ready before they are. I bet we have no more than twenty-four hours to mount our Second Offensive and destroy Heaven, or we’ll be too late to be effective. How’s the training going?”

  Jack sighed. “As well as could be expected. The vast majority of these people are civilians, with no military or police training at all. With some of them it’s all we can do to get them pointing the grenade launchers in the right direction.”

  Daniel smiled. “The heroes of the American Revolution weren’t professional soldiers either, Jack. I’m betting the passion of people fighting for their lives and their futures will outweigh their lack of technical savvy.”

  Daniel stopped and looked around, seeing the people around him not as unseasoned civilians or even as individuals, but as a growing, highly-motivated army. “Round up the other local commanders and set up the communications links to the others. We’ve got an assault to plan.”

  Michael sat in his darkened throne room and sulked. As loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself, the situation with Cho and the humans had indeed become a war, and he was losing it. His reconnaissance satellites showed heightened activity at many suspected Underground bases, and many of his lieutenants had reported a sudden drop in the visible population. Michael knew where all those people had gone, and what they were doing.

  He was stupid to deal with Richardson while on the air, but there was nothing he could do about that now. In a fit of rage, he hadn’t thought the situation through, and now his image was forever tainted to this generation of humans. If he won this war (and he had to at least accept the possibility that he might not), he’d probably have to exterminate the adult human population and start over with the children. Such a waste.

  He reached over and brought up Azrael’s latest report on one of his monitors. At least this was good news. The strike team would be ready far sooner than expected, and they were set to strike at noon the next day. Michael glanced at the clock. Twenty-five hours. Just over a day and Cho would be out of his hair forever. The other rebels didn’t concern him if their ringleader was removed. Cho was the catalyst; he’d been at ground zero since it all began with the discovery of Batarel. Without him, the rebel house of cards fell apart, and they really became the directionless bumblers they were before his arrival. Michael slumped in his throne and stared into the darkness.

  Twenty-five hours.

  Daniel and the other leaders of the Underground spent most of the day planning the following day’s attack. Throughout most of the world, the Second Offensive would be a replay of the First Offensive, if more decisive and impassioned. Both sides knew what was at stake now, and neither would yield while still breathing. It promised to be quite a fight, but Daniel was confident it would be successful.

  In southern California, the situation was quite different. No one had attacked Heaven directly in the First Offensive, but that’s exactly what Daniel had to do. They’d have no air support, the crutch of American military strategists since World War One, and from Daniel’s perspective it looked and felt like a much older type of conflict: a castle siege.

  Heaven’s defenses were formidable, but not impossible to breach. Daniel attributed that to Michael’s arrogant underestimation of the human race. It was really Michael’s only weakness, and Daniel planned to exploit it to maximum efficiency. While the doors were too heavily defended, Daniel’s force should be able to blow a hole in a wall with the weapons they’d cannibalized from the bunker.

  Daniel stood before thousands of people in the makeshift auditorium, a theater they’d commandeered. He gestured to floorplan schematics of Heaven on the briefing screens. “Once we’re in, destroy anything that moves. It’s an unfortunate fact that Michael still has a human guard force inside Heaven that’s loyal only to him, but I doubt you’re going to have time to determine whether or not your opponent is human before they try to blow you away. Anything you see that isn’t part of the Underground, shoot it.

  “Unfortunately, this is a no surrender, no retreat situation for both sides. Aside from any humans inside who manage to surrender before we open fire, neither side can afford to back off in this one. It’s going to be a bloody, prolonged fight that won’t stop until either all of us or all of the angels are dead. It’s never easy to invade an enemy fortress, particularly one so vital to defend, but it can be done. As some of my Mexican compatriots enjoy pointing out, Santa Anna eventually took the Alamo.”

  Daniel stepped away from the briefing screens and stood center stage. “A lot of good people have died to get us this far. Ricardo Jones and Manuel Nogales led many of you into battle, and sacrificed their lives to our cause. Susan Richardson paid with her life to spread the truth about the immortals, and many of you are here now only because she cared enough about what was at stake to risk everything she had, everything she was. We owe it to these heroes that have gone before us to finish the fight they started.

  “In 1775, the British army had landed in Boston, and despite ten years of protests by the American colonists, the British rule was growing more severe by the day as the King tried to control a people he knew nothing about, people who were separated from him by a three month ocean voyage. There was talk of a war for independence, but most of the leaders of the day favored the current peace, believing they had no hope against the British army in a declared war. In the midst of this stagnation was a man named Patrick Henry. In a speech delivered on March 23, 1775, he implored his fellow Americans to go to war with the British. To him, liberty was far more valuable than peace and maintaining the status quo. If I may read the last bit of his speech, I think you’ll recognize the immortal words at the end.”

  Daniel pulled a piece of paper from his uniform pocket, unfolded it and began to read. “Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace—but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”

  The theater shook with the shouts and applause of the Underground, but Daniel quieted them and continued on, the paper discarded. “What we fight for tomorrow morning is more than Patrick Henry ever dreamed possible. We fight for liberty, yes, but a liberty like no human has ever known. Should we win the day, we will be the first humans in the history of our race truly free to control our own destiny. For thousands of years, allegedly free men have been influenced and steered by immortal hands. We fight to end this! Should we lose, we will know not only our own deaths, as individuals, but the death of humanity as we know it. The death of our children, should they not meet Michael’s standards. The death of our fellow humans, should they dare overstep the narrow bounds Michael sets for them. The death of art, the death of free expression, the death of the human soul. We can not, will not let this happen!”

  Daniel raised his arms high above his head. “Liberty or
Death!” he shouted.

  “Liberty or Death!” the crowd responded.

  “LIBERTY OR DEATH!”

  Second Offensive

  In the pre-dawn darkness the next morning, Daniel’s troops assembled outside Heaven’s eastern wall. They’d taken two massive energy cannons off the roof of the bunker and loaded them onto flatbed trucks. These cannons were currently trained on a single section of the wall.

  Jack and Daniel stood next to one of the cannons. Jack was clad in police riot gear, like most of the Underground fighters, and Daniel wore his black suit of armor.

  “This feel a little easy to you?” Daniel asked.

  Jack nodded. “The thought had occurred to me,” he said. “But at this point, I’m willing to accept a little good luck and believe we’re taking them by surprise.”

  Daniel walked to the edge of the flatbed and peered up the side of the mammoth gold building. “I don’t like it,” he said. “Michael’s not this stupid. Arrogant, yes, but not stupid. He knows we’re coming. He’s got something up his sleeve.”

  Jack joined Daniel at the edge. “Whether he does or not, it’s really academic at this point. We’re here.”

  Daniel paused for a moment, then nodded agreement. “Right. Let’s do what we came to do.”

  Daniel walked back to the men controlling the cannons and gave them some final instructions. Then he keyed the amplifier on his suit and addressed his troops.

  “You all know what to do. Good luck.

  “On three.” He nodded to the cannon operators.

  “One.”

  The resistance fighters tensed, preparing.

  “Two.”

  Over two thousand eyes focused on the golden wall, ready to burst through it at the first opportunity.

  “Three!”

  Both angelic energy cannons opened fire, and soon the metal of the wall began to twist and warp. Daniel thought he heard something else over the whine of the cannons, a deep rumble maybe, but he wasn’t sure.

  Suddenly, the tortured wall gave way and the interior of the angels’ stronghold was open to them. The cannons shut off and Daniel lead the surge forward. Too late, he heard and understood the rumbling noise he had hoped he only imagined.

  He stopped and looked to the sky. From the rooftop soared angel after angel, more than two dozen in all. They waited until more than half the humans were through the huge hole in the building, then began to dive.

  It was a trap. Daniel and his troops had no choice but to run headlong into the building, where a prepared force no doubt waited for them. There would be no escape, no possibility of retreat, and Daniel’s fighters would have to fight in front and behind.

  Damn! Daniel thought. How could I have been so stupid? Such introspection would have to wait. By the time he and Jack finally crossed the jagged threshold into the building, the battle was joined.

  The fate of humanity was about to be decided.

  At the same moment Daniel’s forces began their invasion of Heaven, other Underground troops around the world launched attacks on their local targets. As expected, the battles were more heated than in the First Offensive, and the angels were better prepared.

  Heinrich von Braun was in a panic.

  Michael had informed them that the traitors in the Underground would likely attack during the night, but most of the night had passed without incident. Heinrich was certain the rebellion had had a change of heart, or lost their nerve. An attack against the angels was foolhardy and counterproductive. Surely they saw that. Their lies and fake newscasts would collapse under their own weight, and peace would be restored.

  Then someone blew a hole in the east wall, and Heinrich’s hopes for a peaceful resolution to the conflict were dashed.

  He’d rushed with the other guardsmen to the conflict, but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. Dozens of bodies lay on the floor and there was blood on most of the walls. Just before Heinrich turned a corner, the man in front of him disintegrated in an explosion of gore.

  Heinrich turned and ran. He didn’t think of himself as a coward. He was falling back to a more defensible position. Yes, that was it.

  He ran so fast, he didn’t see the angel until it was too late. He slammed into the hulking metal armor and caromed into the wall. The angel stopped, reached down and picked him up.

  “Thank you, my Lo—”

  “Where are you going?” the angel demanded. “You are a Guardsman, are you not?”

  Heinrich nodded feebly. His knees had turned to rubber.

  “The fight is that way!” the angel shouted, half throwing, half shoving Heinrich back the way he came.

  Heinrich was at a loss. He didn’t want to disobey an angel, but what he’d seen…

  “Go!” the angel commanded.

  Heinrich went.

  Everything will be fine, he thought as he grew closer to the sounds of combat. I’m well armed, highly trained, and God is on my side…

  Heinrich’s next step took him into the path of a grenade meant for an angel, and he never knew what hit him.

  The storming of Heaven was slow and bloody going.

  By dawn, Daniel and his troops were completely inside the massive complex and had taken out dozens of angels and more human cannon fodder than they cared to count. It had cost them nearly a third of their force. Michael’s pincer movement had been defeated by the Underground’s rear echelon, but at a terrible sacrifice. Their invasion finally complete, a significantly smaller assault force found themselves inside the home of the enemy.

  Once inside, the resistance split and followed predefined routes Daniel had mapped out for them in advance. The going was easier then, but it remained a bloody, foot by foot fight as territory was gained and grudgingly held.

  That didn’t concern Daniel. He, Jack and an elite strike force cut through the angelic opposition with no thought of holding the territory they passed through.

  Daniel had bigger fish to fry.

  Turning the Tide

  Around the world, the human forces fought for more than just their lives. In China and India, the Underground overwhelmed the angels by sheer weight of numbers. In Europe, the angels fell prey to dazzling cooperative tactics staged by people who had previously been at war with each other for centuries. South and Central America saw displays of ferocity not witnessed since the time of the Aztecs and Incas.

  Bit by bit, the angels fell.

  Daniel was so near his goal he could taste it, but the opposition was getting tougher.

  Daniel, Jack and the others were roughly two hundred meters away from Michael’s throne room. It may as well have been two hundred miles. Only one corridor led to the massive chamber, and that corridor was filled with armored angels, led by Azrael himself. The angels had opened fire with a furious onslaught of firepower the moment Daniel came into view, forcing the rebels into a side corridor.

  “I get the impression Michael doesn’t want to see us,” Jack observed.

  Daniel managed a grim smile through his faceplate. “Noticed that, did you?”

  Daniel hazarded another peek around the corner, prompting another barrage of missiles. The unguided projectiles missed and impacted on the wall at the end of the corridor.

  “At least they aren’t coming to get us,” Daniel said. “I’ll bet they have strict orders not to leave Michael’s door.”

  He turned to Jack. “Any thoughts on how to use that to our advantage?”

  Jack shrugged. “Logistically, they’re sitting ducks. We have them pinned down in a closed area where they can neither advance nor retreat. We have them right where we want them.”

  “Except that the instant we poke our heads around this corner and attack, we get blown into a million pieces,” Daniel said.

  Jack smiled. “No battlefield situation is without its flaws.”

  Daniel stopped to think for a moment. “How long do you think you guys can keep them occupied?”

  “Doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere. Why?”

&nbs
p; Daniel stood up and looked down the corridor they were in, away from Azrael’s troops. “Because I just remembered there is another way into Michael’s throne room. It has a big bay window, and I can fly.”

  Any hint of mirth disappeared from Jack’s face. “You can’t be serious. He could have just as many armored angels inside as out here. They’d tear you apart.”

  Daniel started to walk down the corridor. “That’s a chance I’m going to have to take. Keep them busy, and don’t let on that I’m gone. With any luck, I’ll be able to take them from behind when I’m done with Michael.”

  Jack shot Daniel a look, but didn’t argue with his superior officer. “Yes, sir, General.

  “And good luck,” he said to Daniel’s retreating form.

  Once Daniel had disappeared from view, Jack addressed the strike force. “What are you doing there on the floor?” he asked. “You heard the general.”

  With great care, the humans began firing on the angels.

  Elsewhere, entire angelic strongholds began to fall.

  The angels had no answer to the weakness the Underground had exploited so successfully the first time. By attacking everywhere at once, the Underground didn’t allow the angels the opportunity to consolidate their forces. Small, isolated patches of angels grew steadily smaller as the fighting wore on. They took their toll in human life, of course, but it often seemed that for every human destroyed, two more took his place. The angels were losing, and the outcome of the battle became more certain by the minute.

  Still, the human victories would mean little if Michael and his forces held on to Heaven.

  Daniel stood on the roof of the great building, wings extended. The morning sun sat low in the sky, casting long, hazy shadows over the Los Angeles cityscape. The fighting was well inside the building now, and the city looked surprisingly peaceful.