Revolution

by Shawn Davis

  “There you are,” she said, pointing to one of the sleek crafts in the corner of the hangar.

  “Come on!” a soldier shouted, waving at them from the wide personnel door of the chopper.

  “All right, Rayne. This is it. This is when it all comes together. Good luck.” Jane said, shaking Peter’s hand.

  “You too, commander,” Peter said, hoping he would see her again.

  “Thanks,” Campion said, nodding at him once more before turning and running down the hangar’s back aisle. Rayne turned toward the air-ship.

  “Come on!” the soldier yelled again from the chopper’s open side door.

  Rayne jogged over to the chopper and met with the soldier.

  “I’m Lieutenant Pearlman. Nice to meet you, Peter,” the soldier said, shaking Rayne’s armored-gloved hand.

  “It sounds like you know a little more about me than I do about you,” Rayne said.

  “Don’t worry about that. Get on board, strap yourself in, and I’ll appraise you of the situation in the air.”

  “Very good,” Peter said, trying to quell some of the nervous anticipation he was feeling.

  “You’ll need to wear this, so I can talk to you,” Pearlman said, handing Rayne a wire-thin headset with two ear-receivers and a front speaker microphone.

  “Okay,” he said, taking the headset. It was feather-light. He put it on and forgot he was wearing it almost immediately.

  “All right. Let’s go,” the Lieutenant said.

  Rayne stepped on board and walked down the narrow aisle to the only remaining unoccupied seat. He placed his rifle in a holder on the wall next to the open seat and locked it in. He glanced around at the nineteen men and women strapped into their seats beside him.

  Rayne felt a rush of adrenaline as the chopper lifted suddenly from the floor and hovered for a few brief seconds. Then, his stomach felt as if it was dropping into his pelvis as the chopper shot straight up.

  “This is better than the rides at Virtual-world,” Rayne quipped to the soldier sitting to his right, a tall, brown-haired man in his mid-twenties.

  “Hey, maybe we’ll get to try out a few rides when we get to the island,” the soldier said, grinning.

  “If we have time,” Rayne said, grinning back.

  “I’ll bet we will,” an attractive, thirty-something, blonde-haired soldier to his left added. “I’ve always wanted to try that new anti-grav coaster.”

  “Believe me, it’s not as good as you would think,” Rayne said, rolling his eyes.

  “You’ve been on it?” the soldier asked, surprised.

  “Unfortunately,” Peter replied.

  “Did you throw up?”

  “No.”

  “Then what was the problem?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Chapter 36

  Rebellion

  Campion lifted up the anti-grav lever on her instrument panel, shooting her chopper straight into the air. She felt a familiar rush of adrenaline as she watched the floor disappear beneath her. She saw a brief flash of the hangar wall and then only open sky and the cityscape below.

  When she reached an altitude of five hundred feet, she gripped the forward thrust controls and shot her craft forward at 150mph. Campion felt another rush as she rocketed the chopper over the city. Steering her chopper east, she flew in the direction of her assault squad.

  “This is L-1 calling S-1. Come in Alpha Squad,” Jane spoke into the radio receiver.

  “This is S-1. I have you on visual,” Sergeant Jacques answered.

  “Received. Same here,” Campion said, spotting her fleet of choppers in the distance sailing high over the ocean.

  She kicked her craft into overdrive and heard the roar of the engines behind her as she picked up speed. The cityscape flew by in a blur below until she found herself flying over the dark ocean. She steered toward the chopper silhouettes sailing high in the night sky.

  When she was close enough to see the pilots in the cockpits, she lifted the anti-grav shift and watched the squad drop below her. She switched the AUTO button on, letting the computer guide her to the front of the formation. When she reached the front, she switched back to MANUAL and resumed control.

  “S-1, are all squad members accounted for?” Campion asked.

  “Yes, sir. We’re at full strength,” Jacques said.

  “Excellent. Are you guys ready to rock and roll?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent. L-1 to L-2. Come in, Bravo Squad,” Campion said over the main channel.

  “This is L-2. I’m reading you loud and clear,” Lieutenant Pearlman answered.

  “Excellent. Is everything in order?”

  “We’re heading for the northern sector of the island.”

  “Very good. L-1 to L-3. Come in, Charlie Squad,” Campion said.

  “This is L-3, Charlie Squadron.” Lt. Jimenez replied.

  “Are you guys good to go?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re circling around to the eastern sector of the island.”

  “Very good. Any sign of air defenses?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  Campion didn’t like the sound of not yet. It made her think about how high a gamble they were taking.

  I am counting on the bunker technicians being unable to fix their computer system in time to re-activate the air defenses. Rayne told me the virus should knock out the bunker’s entire defense system for at least twenty-four hours. It has been 12.6 hours since Rayne sabotaged the computer. But, like everyone else, Rayne is only human and can make mistakes. If he made a mistake this time, a lot of people are going to die. If the air defenses at the top of the city walls are somehow re-activated by government technicians, this is going to be a very short trip for all of us.

  “L-1 to L-4 in Delta Squad. How about you? You all set?” Campion broke her rumination to speak to her remaining chopper squad.

  “This is L-4. Delta Squad is closing in fast on the western sector. We’ll be over the wall in less than a minute,” Lt. Benson replied.

  “Received, L-4. All Battle Groups are on target.”

  Campion spotted the long, black outline of the city wall on the distant horizon.

  There it is. New Washington.

  Jane hoped her spies were correct in their assessment of the city defenses. This attack was designed to be surgical; they were going to hit the city security forces where they were highly concentrated. When they had taken out the main security emplacements, they could work at securing the rest of the island and take out any remaining rogue elements. Then, they could go after high-profile prisoners, including the President. Campion didn’t underestimate the craftiness of President Frump.

  Frump is probably down in the bunker, preparing himself as best he can for an attack. Not that it’s going to do him any good. With the defenses on the walls down, the city is vulnerable. The city only has a handful of attack choppers and they are not even state-of-the-art.

  The President of Hovercrafts International, Timothy Leland, had insured that the government bought sub-standard choppers from his company – with less speed and maneuverability than the rebel vehicles.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Move into attack formation,” Campion instructed.

  “Received L-1. Moving into battle formation,” the sergeant replied.

  Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.

  Campion’s chopper squad spread out into two diagonal lines, forming a massive arrow pointing at the southern wall of the city. Their target was the Federal Police Headquarters. Even if all the wall defenses were down, the Federal Police had their own manually-operated anti-aircraft defenses, which included machine guns and guided missiles.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Prepare to fire rockets,” Campion said.

  “Battle Group preparing rockets,” Sgt. Jacques replied.

  Jane’s chopper was at the front of the massive formation moving toward the city wall. She would be the first to fire in her group. Everyone else would follow. The plan was
simple. They would come in hard and fast, launching everything they had. Their initial sweep would devastate the anti-aircraft emplacements. Their second pass would blow the headquarters to hell.

  Campion felt her temples throbbing as they approached the city wall. The Federal Police Headquarters was just beyond it. They sailed over the wall and she saw the massive headquarters complex spread out below her. Her right thumb hovered above the red missile button on the top of the steering shift. The complex looked massive as she approached.

  A stream of anti-aircraft fire shot from the headquarters’ machine guns and missile cannons, sending a trail of fire across the sky like lightning bolts. Campion heard bullets ricocheting off her chopper’s front armor, and was glad Leland had provided her air ships with tank-like plating. She glanced to her right as she heard a loud explosion and shuddered as she saw her wingman explode into fiery shrapnel.

  Guided missile.

  “Fire at will,” Campion said, depressing the rocket button.

  Jane watched the fire trail from her guided rockets as they dove down toward the headquarters. A stream of missiles followed from all the air-ships in the formation, converging on the complex like a controlled fleet of deadly fireworks. Jane depressed the fire button again as she sailed straight for the main the building in the center of the complex, pulling up at the last moment. She saw a bright flash in the corners of her vision, but didn’t see the actual explosions because she had already shot past.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Assume evasive formation,” Campion said, sailing low over the city.

  She glanced left and right, watching her chopper group spread out around her, checked her radar screen and counted fifteen green blips. They had lost five choppers in the initial attack.

  “Increase altitude to 800 feet,” Jane spoke into her radio receiver while pushing upward on her anti-grav shift. She watched the buildings of the city drop beneath her. Jane broke right with half of the squad while the other half broke left. She steered her air-ship in a wide arc over the city and headed back toward the headquarters for a second pass.

  She saw raging infernos erupting from the wreckage of the headquarters complex. She pushed down on the anti-grav shift, dropping towards the target. She glanced left and right to make sure the others were doing the same the same.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Increase speed and resume attack formation,” Jane said, shooting her air ship up to 150 mph.

  Her eyes squinted from the glare of the building infernos as she approached. Her right thumb instinctively hovered above the missile button as she closed in on the flaming wreckage.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Hold your fire. I repeat, hold your fire. We can save our ammunition. We’re just doing a flyby. Target is destroyed,” Campion instructed her squad, soaring over the burning remains of the complex.

  “Holding fire. Target destroyed,” the sergeant repeated.

  “L-1 to Battle Group. Break attack formation and converge on secondary target. I repeat, we are converging on secondary target; eastern sector of New Washington. The White House.”

  The attack wedge of choppers broke apart as the group spread out and veered sharply to the right. Campion watched the tops of the buildings fly by below her as she steered her air-ship east. Already, a number of bright fires had broken out all over New Washington. Her right thumb continued to hover above the missile button as she soared toward the eastern sector.

  ********

  “I’m Karyn Brennon. Nice to meet you,” the attractive blonde-haired solder seated to Rayne’s left said, offering her hand to him.

  “Hi, Peter Rayne,” Peter said, shaking her hand.

  “If we’re going into battle together, it might help if know each other’s names,” Karyn said, smiling.

  “That’s a good point,” Rayne said, smiling back.

  Damn, this organization recruits some good-looking soldiers. Maybe this invasion won’t be so bad after all.

  “I’m Lorick Thompson. Nice to meet you,” the young black woman seated across from him said, offering her hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Peter said, shaking it.

  “Bill Garland,” the soldier sitting next to Peter said, shaking hands.

  They went around the troop compartment, introducing each other. Rayne forgot half the names after hearing them. He was starting to feel claustrophobic in the confined space of the personnel section of the chopper. There were no windows in this part of the air-ship, so they were flying blind as far as he was concerned. Apparently, only the pilot needed to see where they were going.

  They were packed into the compartment like sardines. Four soldiers were seated next to him on the right in the narrow area leading up to the front control cabin. To his left were five people strapped into chairs beside him, leading to the two rear gunners who sat in circular protruding bays – higher than the rest of them on rotating swivel chairs – attached to Gatling guns.

  Across from him were ten more soldiers. One of the rear gunners was practicing aiming his gun in various directions, rotating around in his circular bay. Rayne saw that a bulletproof Plexiglas bubble moved with him as he turned the gun in various directions.

  “At least he can see where we’re going,” Peter said, pointing at the rear gunner. “Does anyone know if we’re getting near the city?”

  Apparently, the gunner heard him because he answered, “We’re closing in on the city wall. This is when we find out if they really brought down the antiaircraft defenses.”

  Despite the confidence he had in his work, Peter broke out in a light sweat.

  “Approaching the city wall,” the gunner narrated to the rest of the group. “I can see the missile defenses. I can’t tell if they’re operational or not…..”

  “Are they moving with us?” Karyn Brennon asked. “If you see them moving in our direction, that’s usually a good indication if they’re operational!”

  “No, they’re not moving…..” the gunner said, hesitantly. “They’re remaining in position….we’re over the wall!” he shouted, triumphantly.

  Rayne heard a collective sigh of relief from his fellow soldiers as they soared past New Washington’s outer defenses.

  “We’re in! We’re in the city!” the gunner shouted.

  “This must be the first time in history the city defenses have been breached,” Garland said.

  “They say some guy was able to get down into the bunker and sabotage the computer controlling all the surface-to-air missiles on the walls,” Brennon informed the group.

  “How did he get down there? That place is supposed to be impregnable,” Thompson interjected.

  “Maybe he talked his way down there,” Rayne suggested.

  “More likely he shot his way down there,” another male soldier sitting near the back suggested.

  Peter thought it was ironic that no one knew who he was.

  They all know how the defenses were brought down, but they were never told the details. That’s just my luck. This is my one moment to shine, and I can’t. No one would believe me if I said I was the one who went down there.

  Rayne tensed in his seat when he heard muffled metallic thunder echoing outside the craft. A moment later he heard bullets ricocheting on the chopper’s outside armor plating. The bullets sounded like they were close enough to graze him.

  “There they are!” the rear gunner shouted, rotating his chair in the bay so he was facing straight down.

  The Gatling gun erupted into an almost unbearable thundering, causing Peter to involuntarily cover his ears. The wire-thin headset did nothing to alleviate the noise. He took it off and wrapped it around his right armored knee. He pressed his hands over his ears. Even with his hands over his ears, it still sounded like a thunderstorm was erupting inside the narrow troop compartment.

  “Maybe they should have found a way to soundproof this thing!” Rayne shouted to Garland.

  “What?” Garland shouted back, uncovering his ears briefly to listen to him.

  “Never mind!�
�� Rayne shouted above the roar of gunfire.

  Rayne thought his eardrums were going to burst when the second rear Gatling gun opened fire. He watched as the second gunner swiveled 90 degrees in his chair so he was facing almost directly backwards.

  “I hope they’re hitting something,” Peter muttered, realizing he couldn’t even hear his own voice.

  He wished someone had warned him about the side effect of traveling in the troop compartment: complete hearing loss. Rayne felt like his stomach was moving into his chest cavity as he felt the air ship drop like a roller coaster.

  Are we going to crash?

  Rayne kept his ears covered from the onslaught of machine gun noise. For a few brief moments, he thought he had finally reached the end of his mission until he felt the craft leveling out. His stomach lurched again as the air-ship took a hard right, diving toward more unseen enemy combatants. The roar of the machine guns was relentless. Peter thought that if he hadn’t been able to cover his ears with his hands, he most certainly would have become deaf.

  Rayne’s stomach informed him the chopper was ascending fast. The roar of the machine guns actually ceased for a moment, but he still didn’t dare take his hands away from his ears. Glancing around, he saw everyone else was doing the same. A few seconds later, he felt the air ship diving again and the dull metallic roar returned in full force.

  I hope the air assault will be over soon.

  Rayne endured the thundering machine guns and the chopper’s sudden dips and turns as best he could. He lost count of how many times the craft rapidly changed altitude. Closing his eyes, he pretended he was on a carnival ride. It didn’t help.

  After long, tense minutes of waiting, the roar of thunder suddenly ceased. Rayne heard a muffled voice speaking from the vicinity of his right knee. He picked up his headset and placed it back on.

  “Peter, you there?” a voice spoke into his ear.

  It took Rayne a second to recognize the lieutenant’s voice.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I was trying to get you!”

  “Sorry about that. The noise level was rather severe.”