by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 53
Despite previous experience, Billy didn’t appreciate how many ear drums he’d be exploding. Even with ear protectors and flying high above, the detonations rang his head like a bell. It was like falling into a room of exploding Chinese firecrackers, except a million times louder. He couldn’t imagine how much it hurt on the ground. He hoped his guys shut their eyes because the surface suddenly shined as bright as the sun.
Billy asked several Russian women to record the attack from above but, later, even he couldn’t believe the videos. Their bombardment turned night into day.
His team got off several volleys at whatever moved below them before a few hundred thousand Mongols soared up in vengeance. After explosions that damaged their eyes, ears, and throats, Billy was surprised they could stand, much less fly. Without time to form into units, they rose individually, but over several minutes, as they recovered their wits.
With better wands and greater height, Team Red could hit them with lethal blasts, while those on the ground could only warm them up with defused blasts on a cold night. The Mongols almost did them a favor. Plus, the fireballs ignited everything flammable, including people -- it was like hovering over a really big campfire.
By the time they annihilated the first few hundred thousand Mongols, Team Red found another few hundred thousand shooting futilely at them from the ground. As they descended to one hundred meters, they discovered a few hundred thousand more people clutching their bleeding ears or blinded eyes. They looked like sitting ducks, except laying down. Billy forbid his troops from landing near enemy wounded, so their orders were to fireball survivors from the air.
William often described the life of a soldier as work, not unlike a butcher. Work marked not so much by heroics as doing grim deeds that needed doing. Nobody likes carving up cattle or digging graves or killing people, but someone must do it. That’s how Billy felt, as he shot everything that moved: just another guy doing his job. He felt neither heroic nor sadistic as his troops moved to annihilate the support camps that surrounded the military base. Annihilating those million refugees from the Stans didn’t make Billy feel sick; it made him feel safe. Any that survived would eat food that would otherwise keep a Russian alive. Mongols killed more civilians than any other people in history, so they were just getting what they deserved.
Many people would consider killing three million people unconscionable, but Billy saw it as a great day’s work. Those million quads would have killed several million Europeans, and those million two-wanders and million civilians would have helped them, so Billy was actually saving Europeans. As Genghis Khan liked to say, there are no innocents in total war. Billy thought civilization was a great idea, and hoped humanity tried it some day.
Of course, the crucial difference between the two groups is that Team Red killed to give people freedom while the Mongols killed to take it away. Genghis Khan saw himself as a conqueror while Billy saw himself as a liberator.
Billy dropped through a hole in the headquarters roof and shot or stabbed everyone inside. He kicked in doors until he found the grizzled old man in charge. Billy gave the guy credit -- he knew what was coming and fought with his last breath. Moqali swung long swords as soon as his doors burst open and Billy dropped to the floor just in time. He blasted the general’s knees off, then flew on the floor to get close enough to slice his biceps. Like the Third Millennial, Billy sat on the guy’s chest as he transferred his wands and watched him die.
“You know what I like most about a fair fight?” he asked, even though he hated fair fights. “The better fighter always wins.”
“Who are you?” Moqali angrily demanded.
“I’m the Red Baron. And one day I’ll take your Immortal’s Millennial Wands as I watch him die.”
“A messenger just woke me up to show me video of American Jack watching you die. I was on my second cup of wine when the bombing started.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, I faked that in order to destroy your mighty armada. Ten days of flying for ten minutes of fighting.”
“You got Jebe?”
“And Subodei, Tamerlane, and you.”
By the time he found the main vault, Grandma had already blasted it open. Billy knew they struck the mother load by the stunned expressions of his team. He leaned in and whistled in shock. He knew taking care of a few million warriors took a lot of coin, but he never imagined what it’d look like. He started laughing hysterically. This was even better than the vault in Vienna. Ten crates had the word “wands” painted on them, which meant half a million wand sets.
“All right, genius,” Grandma challenged him. “This is too much to fly to Scandinavia, and a heavy wagon train can’t get through all this snow. So we can’t leave it here, yet we can’t take it with us.”
Billy smiled. “Every Bank of Mongolia branch will become part of Global Bank, so we’ll store it all there. Tell our marathoners they’re gonna be rich.”
