World War III

by Heath Jannusch

  The destroyer began to sink quickly as sailors jumped overboard into the frigged water. Within a matter of minutes the ocean had swallowed the entire vessel. All that remained were a few sailors floating on the surface of the foamy water where the ship had once been. A smile briefly flashed across Kye’s face until machine gun fire sprayed the side of his aircraft, reminding him that the MIG was still in pursuit.

  Kye immediately turned his aircraft back towards the coast, followed closely by the persistent MIG. Several transports had already reached the shoreline and enemy troops were flooding out onto the beach. When he was over the coast, Kye dove down and flew across the battlefield with the MIG right behind him. They were less than thirty feet above the sand, as they sped past the soldiers fighting on the beach and the bloody carnage below.

  “Foxtrot-Two-November this is Raven Claw, do you copy? Over.”

  “We read you loud and clear Raven Claw, what’s your twenty? Over.”

  “Coming in hot from the south with a MIG on my tail,” answered Kye. “Requesting flyby support. Over.”

  “Copy that Raven Claw, bring him in low and steady. Over and out.”

  As Kye flew up the coast with the Russian pilot directly behind him, the Marines on the beach opened up on the MIG with their machine guns. Even at the jets high rate of speed it was impossible for the MIG to avoid getting hit by the wave of bullets. A few enemy soldiers fired up at Kye’s F-35, but not many were focused on the sky. The majority of them were more concerned with keeping their heads down.

  Kye was almost to the end of the beach and rapidly approaching jagged cliffs, when he saw the MIG pitch into a dive. It crashed into the sand on the beach and exploded in a fiery ball of flame. The pilot, having been riddled with bullets did not punch out. Kye quickly pulled back on the joystick and soared high into the sky, narrowly missing the rocky cliffs ahead.

  He immediately swung back around and continued across the beach, firing his 25mm cannon all the way. He took careful aim at one of the transports on the beach with soldiers flooding out, and fired one of his air-to-ground bombs. The bomb hit the transport head on, sending the bodies of enemy soldiers high into the air amidst blood and sand.

  “Odd Ball you’ve got a MIG on your six and closing fast,” called out Kye, as he pointed the nose of his F-35 back out to sea.

  “I can’t shake him!” cried out Odd Ball, as he zigzagged back and forth. “He’s locked on to me!”

  “Pull up! Pull up!” shouted Kye, but it was too late. The MIG fired an air-to-air missile that clipped the port side of Odd Ball’s F-35 causing the aircraft to spiral out of control towards the ocean below. “Eject! Eject!”

  “I’m punching out!” said Odd Ball, just before the canopy shot open and he was ejected high into the sky. Kye sighed in relief as he watched the parachute deploy and Odd Ball float down towards the sea. All of a sudden, a Russian MIG appeared out of nowhere and fired on Odd Ball, killing him before his body reached the water.

  “Damn it,” hissed Kye. “Odd Ball is down; I repeat Odd Ball is down.”

  Kye swiftly fell in behind the MIG that had killed his friend and locked on to him. He fired an air-to-air missile and watched with satisfaction as the MIG exploded in a burst of flame.

  “Nice shot Raven Claw!”

  “I’ve got a MIG on my tail,” called out Ghost Rider, “requesting assistance. Over.”

  “Copy that Ghost Rider, I’m on my way.” Kye immediately swung around and took up position behind Ghost Rider. “Uh, Ghost Rider, be advised you have three, I repeat three MIG’s on your tail.” The MIG’s began firing with their machine guns and Kye could see flames appear on the starboard wing of Ghost Rider’s fighter.

  “I’m hit! I’m hit!” cried out Ghost Rider.

  Kye fired another air-to-air missile and eliminated one of the MIG’s. “I got one of them. How bad are you hit?”

  “It could be worse,” answered Ghost Rider, “my starboard wings on fire.”

  “Roger that Ghost Rider,” said Kye, as he locked onto another one of the MIG’s and fired. “Two down, one to go!” But before Kye could lock on to the third MIG, the pilot pulled up and away. “Correction, the third MIG is bugging out. You’re free and clear Ghost Rider.”

  “Thanks Raven Claw! I owe you one!”

  “Ya might say that you owe me two,” teased Key.

  “I’ll have to give you a rain check,” replied Ghost Rider, as he struggled to keep his bird in the air.

  “Ghost Rider that fire on your wing isn’t getting any smaller.”

  “Roger that Raven Claw.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Kye.” Drop to the deck at heading one-eight-five and stay close on my tail.”

  “Copy that Raven Claw, heading one-eight-five.”

  Kye took up a position directly in front of Ghost Rider’s F-35 and dropped an air-to-ground bomb into the ocean. The bomb exploded, sending waves of seawater high into the air. As Ghost Rider passed over the location where the bomb hit, water washed over his fighter jet, extinguishing the flames on his starboard wing.

  “That worked!” shouted Ghost Rider, surprised but relieved. “Thanks Raven Claw, now I owe you three!”

  “Yankee-Tango this is Echo-Six-Bravo; requesting a priority fire mission on a command center flag ship in sector seven under grid eight-eight-five, three-four-two. We will be lazing. I say again we will be lazing. Over.”

  “Copy that Echo-Six-Bravo, time to target three minutes.”

  “All units be advised, we’ve got wart hogs and B-52’s inbound about ten minutes out. They’ll pound the whole area so keep your heads down. We’ve got to hit them and hit them hard. Over.”

  “Any station this net, this is Foxtrot-Two-November, we have eleven wounded requesting evacuation at alternate extraction point Charlie. Are there any birds in the air? Over.”

  “Foxtrot-Two-November this is Sierra-Two-Five. Orders are to pull back. Get to the extraction point Charlie by zero three hundred or we’ll be gone. Over.”

  “Roger that Sierra-Two-Five, zero three hundred not a minute more. Over and out.”

  Angels among Us

  World War III – Day Three

  La Jolla Beach, California

  Sitting on the cliffs above La Jolla cove, the archangel Michael gazed up at the sky and marveled at its beauty. The wondrous variety of colors that God had designed had always been one of his favorite creations. Far out to sea the sky was a deep blue, fading to several shades of purple before turning into a deep red. The red turned to orange above the smoldering California coast before becoming a bright yellow towards the distant sun. Michael allowed himself to feel the warmth of the sun shining on his back, the comfort enveloped him.

  His eyes lowered to the ocean below and the large fleet of warships floating off the coast. Hundreds of smaller vessels slowly approaching the beach dotted the turbulent sea between the shore and the armada. The sky was suddenly filled with the roar of fighter jets, launched from both land and sea. Michael watched the fiery explosions above, as pilots randomly blew each other from the air. Although extremely experienced in the art of warfare, Michael didn’t approve of the needless waist of life, one of God’s most precious gifts.

  His eyes dropped to the fortified beach and the soldiers running back and forth, trying to prepare for the imminent assault. Michael’s eyes were more like a hawk than a human, and even at this distance he could see the names of each of the men below sewn into the breast pocket of their uniforms. He could see the worry and fear in their eyes as they frantically dug foxholes and piled sand bags in front of them. With his excellent vision he could even see the beads of sweat rolling down the cheeks of soldiers, as they labored in their various tasks.

  The first wave of transport ships reached the beach and as the ramps lowered, soldiers flooded out and onto the sand. Chased by a Russian MIG, an American fighter jet flying low along the beach headed straight for Michael and the cliffs where he was perched. Soldiers from the beach be
low fired up at the MIG, as the two jets passed by. Just before hitting the cliffs the American fighter pulled up, but it was too late for the MIG. Before being able to eject, the Russian pilot crashed into the side of the cliffs in a huge ball of fire.

  The flames from the explosion engulfed Michael and although he could feel the heat, the fire itself could not harm him. Michael spotted the transport that he’d been waiting for and from his mouth blew a burst of wind into the ocean below. The powerful gust of air hit the water, causing large waves to ripple out from its epicenter. Several waves crashed into the side of the transport that Yuri and his men were onboard, raising the vessel up and then bringing it down hard. Even at this distance, Michael could see Yuri stumble and fall to the floor of the transport, just as the large metal door dropped open and bullets swarmed in.

  At the far end of the beach Michael saw two fallen angels walking along the sandy shoreline. Sunlight reflected off the breastplates of their golden armor. He instantly recognized the angels as Rahab whose name means violence and Abaddon whose name means to destroy. Michael remembered both of the angels from the days of old when Lucifer rebelled against God, although they went by different names then. Both Abaddon and Rahab had joined in the rebellion, along with one third of all the angels in Heaven. Michael commanded the remaining two thirds of the angels and the two factions had been at war with one another ever since.

  Of course the soldiers couldn’t see any of the angels, but they were always there none the less. As Michael watched, Rahab tripped a soldier and then pushed another one on top of a grenade. Abaddon was also causing havoc and killing soldiers indiscriminately, laughing at the pain and suffering they were causing. American, Russian, Chinese, it didn’t matter which side the soldier was on, the fallen angels simply enjoyed killing and they’d had plenty of practice over the last six thousand years. After watching them toy with one of the soldiers by holding him immobile while bullets riddled his body, Michael had seen enough. Even at this distance, he could see the fear and confusion in the man’s eyes, as he struggled to free himself from the invisible force that held him.

  Standing up from the rocky cliffs where he sat, Michael stepped off the ledge in one fluid motion and floated towards the beach below. He landed softly on the sand and headed straight for Abaddon and Rahab, paying no attention to the bullets, grenades and shrapnel flying through the air. The white suit which Michael wore glowed vibrantly, covering his body in a dazzling bluish-white light. Any stray bullets that came in contact with the light either passed through him harmlessly or instantly melted away into nothing, depending on his needs.

  Michael approached the transport with Yuri and his men, who were pinned down by machine gun fire. He noticed an armored vehicle was ablaze just a short distance away, but too far for Yuri and his men to reach without being caught out in the open. Michael looked at the armored vehicle and it immediately began to move. It stopped just a few feet from the pinned down soldiers. As he walked in front of the distressed solders, he stretched out his wings and blocked any incoming bullets. Yuri and another soldier immediately sprinted towards the burning, armored vehicle and took cover behind it. The rest of his men were not so lucky.

  Michael continued to walk towards the two falling angels as an air-to-ground bomb smashed into the transport, killing the remainder of Yuri’s men. He felt bad for them, but they weren’t part of his mission. Suddenly an American Marine screamed, “Grenade!” and then leapt from his foxhole. Michael recognized the soldier as Jesse Morgan, who was part of his mission. Realizing that Jesse had not gotten far enough away from the grenade to avoid shrapnel from the detonation, Michael quickly materialized between Jesse and the foxhole. He wrapped his wings and arms around the young Marine, absorbing the blast from the explosion like a shield.

  Without hesitation, Michael turned and continued across the beach towards Rahab and Abaddon. He was about fifty yards away when both of the fallen angels looked up in unison and saw him approaching. No one had to tell them who he was, every angel knew Michael the archangel. They immediately forgot about the soldiers and the fun they were having and directed all of their attention towards Michael.

  Michael stopped walking abruptly and softly asked, “Why are you here?” Although he was still a good ten or fifteen yards away, the angels could hear his words loud and clear. His voice was sweet and smooth like the sound of water flowing in a babbling brook. Rahab and Abaddon knew all too well that the sound was misleading. They’d seen firsthand the power that God had bestowed upon Michael, and he wasn’t to be underestimated.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Rahab, answering Michael’s question with another question.

  “Are you alone?” added Abaddon, looking around as if he expected to be ambushed at any minute. Although the fallen angels outnumber Michael two to one, they were still afraid of him and rightly so.

  “I’m alone,” replied Michael, in the same velvety voice.

  “That’s too bad,” said an unidentified voice from behind him.

  Michael recognized the voice immediately. “Hello Beelzebub, it’s been a long time.” He turned around to face the fallen angel who’d materialized out of thin air.

  “Too long,” agreed Beelzebub.

  The last time Michael had seen Beelzebub face to face was on the battlefield during the rebellion led by Lucifer. His face looked just as Michael remembered, but now he was covered from head to toe in a shiny, black, tar-like substance that dripped from his body when he moved. “I see you haven’t changed,” observed Michael, undaunted by the appearance of yet another fallen angel.

  “Nor you,” pointed out Beelzebub. Rahab and Abaddon seemed content to remain quiet and let these old adversaries do all the talking. “Why has He sent you here?”

  “I have my orders,” replied Michael, “and they don’t include you. Please stay out of this and do not force my hand.”

  “No thanks,” hissed Beelzebub, “I prefer the freedom to do as I please, when I please, without consequence, and I don’t want to stay out of this.”

  “There’s always a consequence,” said Michael. “Or have you forgotten the result of your actions?”

  “Heaven will be ours once again,” said Beelzebub, “Lucifer has promised it.”

  “Like he promised you ultimate power?” asked Michael, glancing down in disgust at the tar-like substance covering Beelzebub’s body, which couldn’t possibly be a choice.

  “I don’t mind my new look,” lied Beelzebub, “and I do have power!”

  “The ability to rule over legions of mindless demons is not power,” said Michael. “God loves you. You’ve hurt our Father and the separation you feel cannot be changed. You claim to have power, but you can’t change anything that matters.”

  “Yet you’re here following His orders and doing His biding, what kind of power is that?”

  “Of course I do as God commands,” replied Michael. “He created me and loves me. I’ll always be grateful for His love and guidance. He knows what is best.”

  “I make my own future,” spat Beelzebub, “and create my own destiny!”

  “My how similar you sound to Lucifer,” observed Michael. “Will you never learn the lesson of what comes from pride?”

  Michael knew that Beelzebub didn’t care and was trying to think of something smart to say, but before he could respond, Seere, yet another of Lucifer’s fallen angels, appeared in the sky riding a winged horse. He soared down to the beach; landing on the sand to Michael’s left. Seere was a powerfully built angel wearing only a pair of sandy brown pants. He had a bow slung over his shoulder and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. The same black tar that covered Beelzebub was dripping off of the arrow heads. As he dismounted his winged horse, the muscles on his chest and arms bulged beneath his glimmering skin.

  “I thought you might like some help Beelzebub,” he bellowed, in a deep rumbling voice.

  “The more the merrier,” grinned Beelzebub, hoping to frighten Michael, but the archangel coul
dn’t be frightened.

  Just a few yards from shore, the surface of the ocean suddenly began to bubble in three separate spots. The bubbles grew larger and more turbulent, as though the earth below had broken open and something was surfacing from beneath. After a few seconds, three distinct heads appeared from beneath the foamy water. As they rose from the depths below, Michael recognized each of the fallen angels.

  Forneus was the first to emerge. In ancient times, Forneus had enjoyed appearing as a sea monster, killing sailors and destroying ships. His body was covered in green, slimy scales that caused all forms of projectiles to bounce off harmlessly. Forneus held no weapon, but didn’t need one. He had a long tail, like a scorpion with a stinger on the end, and sharp claws that were longer than his fingers.

  Kunopegos was the next to surface. Much like Forneus, Kunopegos had also spent his time attacking and sinking ships at sea. His body resembled that of a seahorse as he emerged from the water. When the water had reached Kunopegos’ waist it suddenly began to twirl around violently, creating a small whirlpool. When the twirling finally stopped, Kunopegos had legs where the body of a seahorse had previously been. In his hand he held a long spear made of coral.

  The last fallen angel to appear was Vepar, holding a triton gripped tightly in his hand. Vepar had the body of a mermaid, but as he emerged from the water the fins that formed his trunk transformed into legs. His hair was blonde and his skin was aqua marine.

  “Seven to one,” sneered Beelzebub, feeling more confident in the odds, “care to surrender?”

  “You know better than to ask,” said Michael, the same calm smile on his face. “But if you leave now, I promise not to kill you.”