by Ric Dawson
“Odin’s Balls, that is the ‘bizarrt!’“ Sven exclaimed.
“No clue. But let’s not hang around and find out,” Mel added.
“There they are!” Kane pointed off to the left. Coming over low hills from the south were two helicopters.
“Those are odd, they have small wings and a prop on the back,” Mel said.
Piasecki X-49F Speed Hawks, bro. Top speed around two hundred fifty miles per hour. Very fast.
“Wow. Audam, do you have a military database stashed in you?”
I do, bro. I prefer free love.
The choppers came in quick and settled down right on the roadway. The side doors slid open and the co-pilot waved at us.
We tumbled out of the SUV and hustled to the waiting choppers.
Seconds later, we were airborne and heading back south.
Lightning bolts arched from the top of a green-tinted building downtown. Between the buildings, at street level, more lightning bolts flashed and arched around cars and store fronts. The street level flashes seemed to be spreading out into adjacent streets, giving the whole area the effect of out of control electrical discharges.
The Speed Hawks stayed under one hundred meters as they whipped over Chiba and out into Tokyo Bay. We made the journey in ten minutes. I had my shield up continuously.
The U.S. Yokosuka Naval Base came into view. It spanned the southern edge of Tokyo Bay. The chopper landed on the flight deck of a super-carrier. A large “76” was painted in four-story numbers on the super structure that jutted above the flight deck.
That’s called the Island, bro.
“Huh.”
I noticed you were looking at the super-carrier. Beautiful, isn’t she. It’s the USS Ronald Reagan – nuclear-powered Nimitz class. She’s the flagship of Carrier Strike Group Five of the U.S. 7th Fleet.
“Audam, I thought you were all about love, paisleys, and flower power.”
Can’t deny the power, bro. Power rocks. Peace through strength!
Dropping down onto the flight deck, the helicopter came to a landing with a light bump.
The door slid open and several men in uniform helped everyone out of the choppers.
“I am Master Chief Petty Officer Willis. Please follow me, folks.” MCPO Willis waved for us to follow him as he hustled across the flight deck to the carrier island.
We hurried past a maze of halls and corridors as naval personnel bustled by. Even inside the carrier we could hear the sirens and whoosh of aircraft being launched from the catapults out on the flight deck.
“We’re heading to a conference room where Vice Admiral James Bracken will meet with you shortly,” MCPO Willis barked out over his shoulder as we hustled along. After going down and up several levels in the bowels of the large ship, I had no idea where we were relative to the flight deck. As we hurried down yet another corridor, I noticed the floor was covered in blue tiles.
Blue tile country, my man.
“What?”
The blue tiles - signifies you are in a command area.
“Thanks, Audam.”
We followed MCPO Willis into a spacious conference room with comfortable chairs around a large table. Two armed master-at-arms stood guard to the side of each of the exits from the room.
A loud voice came from the far door.
“That’s unacceptable, XO. I need to know right now. What the hell is happening to our pilots?”
The far door slammed open and a tall man in a dark-green windbreaker over a navy-blue tee-shirt stormed in, a woman similarly dressed followed hot on his heels. The lead man returned a salute to the MA troopers, who turned and exited the room to take up station outside the conference room doors.
“My name’s Vice Admiral Bracken. My XO tells me you’re connected with NORAD in Colorado Springs, what’s left of it anyway. Please God, tell me you know what the hell is going on here,” he growled as he looked around the room at us.
“Lieutenant Jim Sanders, Sir.” Jim snapped a salute as did Sven and Mel moments later.
“We are part of the Octagon team from Cheyenne Mountain. We are tasked to find those responsible for the attack on Colorado Springs, which we have. They are an organization called Wraith and their main headquarters are here in Tokyo.”
Jim continued, “This is Sergeant Svenson Ragnas and Corporal Melissa Fletchin. My Security Forces squad.”
Admiral Bracken nodded towards them as Jim continued. “This is Kane Randall, former electronic warfare major and Navy Seal, and Lane Sudler, a computer tech and …” Jim paused for a second, “our specialist on Wraith.”
“I see. This is my Executive Officer, Commander Ruth Dixon.” Admiral Bracken nodded towards the other officer.
“So, gentlemen. What are we dealing with?”
Jim looked at me. I coughed and cleared my throat.
This should be good.
“Shaddup.”
“Sir. We have discovered three Wraith facilities in the region. Aogashima Island, Shiomicko on the coast, and here in Tokyo. Presumably it’s the building that your aircraft have engaged. We successfully destroyed Aogashima and escaped from their base in Shiomicko. Other than what you have seen so far, we don’t have any other data on the Tokyo facility.”
“I see. We have had three pilots turn traitor in mid-mission and attack their flight. Can you tell me anything about this?” The admiral glared us.
“Sir. Some of the enemy have the ability to mind control people. We believe there are only a handful of them,” I replied.
The admiral looked at me like I had totally lost my mind. “Young man. You’re telling me that the enemy can mind control us? For real?”
“That’s absurd, Admiral!” the XO quickly injected. “These people are as much at a loss as we are.”
“I’ve personally engaged and killed these beings in Colorado. This is no joke, sir. They are real and extremely dangerous,” I rebutted.
“Beings? We’re talking spacemen now. Aliens?” The admiral’s glare deepened and his eyes drilled into me.
BATTLE FOR TOKYO
A petty officer rushed in, snapped a salute, and handed the admiral a sheet of paper. The admiral returned the salute and silently read the message.
“Good God,” he muttered and handed the message to the XO.
“Evidence appears to support your analysis, Mr. Sudler. We have people all over Tokyo in some sort of stupor, hypnotized or something.” The admiral’s tone eased.
It’s a psychotronic attack, bro.
“What?”
Psychotronic warfare. Modulated electromagnetic waves induce a coupling in targeted brain areas. The Russians call it a silent sound attack.
“This may be psychotronic warfare or silent sound manipulation by Wraith, sir,” I said.
Everyone stared at me. Kane glanced at my hand, smirked, and nodded to himself.
“So how do we fight it, Mr. Sudler?” the XO asked.
“We need to destroy the transmitters, large dishes, bigger than satellite dishes. They must be scattered around Tokyo.”
“Can we protect our pilots?” the admiral asked.
“Our Octagon team can take the fight to the Wraith cyber-psi elements,” I replied as a strange, high-pitched electronic shriek began to build in intensity in my ears. I gripped the table. My stomach rolled over with a wave of nausea.
I got it too bro, they are in the reactor area.
“An attack?”
Yup, it felt like a Wraith team.
This wasn’t like the presentiment I had felt before. This was strong and affected me physically.
“Admiral, your reactor is under attack by a Wraith cyber-psi team,” I blurted out as I vomited into a trash bin from the vertigo.
Even as I spoke, the lights flickered in the room and went out. The red glow of emergency lighting snapped on.
“Ruth, get a team down there now!” Admiral Bracken yelled.
“Admiral, we need our gear and a drop near the Wraith building in Minato,” I cro
aked, wiping spittle from my chin.
“Gentlemen. I’ll have Apaches and Seahawks on the deck in five minutes. Good luck! Mr. Clinton, see to it.” The admiral turned and exited the room the way he came in.
“Yes sir!” The petty officer snapped a salute and stayed behind.
“I’m Petty Officer Clinton. This way please,” the young PO said.
A muffled thud shook the walls and echoed down the corridor. Petty Officer Clinton paused as a frown flowed across his brow.
“Lane, shouldn’t we help them?” Melissa yelled from the back of the hustling group.
“You can drop into the cyber-psi, Lane. But we may need a little help getting in,” Kane said.
“They will be expecting us. We lost against one of those teams before, remember. We need a different approach and we need some of their psi weapons.”
The officer opened a door to a small storage room full of our combat kits.
We didn’t waste time outfitting our gear.
“We’re ready, Mr. Clinton,” Jim announced.
“Yes sir, this way then.”
Two minutes later, we approached the flight deck hatch. PO Clinton opened the hatch and we all hustled out onto the busy flight deck. Once everyone was out, he turned towards the front of the carrier flight deck and strode towards two idling helicopters in front of the island. Further out beyond the two transport Seahawks were two Apaches.
That’s an Apache AH-64E Guardian, bro. They got some serious weaponry man, a M230 chain gun with rounds the length of your forearm, and AGM Hellfire missiles with Hydra rockets too! Hell’s parade, we’re gonna light ‘em up, bro.
“You are very helpful with the interesting but useless details, Audam, thanks!”
Those helicopters are sitting on what’s nicknamed “the street” in carrier lingo, and you’re welcome, bro. Let’s melt some bad guys.
“The choppers will get you close to the target and provide close support as long as they can,” Petty Officer Clinton yelled back at us over the roar of engines.
“Good luck!” He opened the chopper’s side door, then rushed over to the other Seahawk. Jim, Kane, and I climbed up into the first one. Melissa and Sven ran in a crouch over to the second. The thump-thump of the four choppers blades spun up, and we lifted off the deck.
We cleared the carrier bow and dropped down to a few meters above the blue, wave-tossed bay. The sun dropped towards the water and sat on the horizon, a giant orange ball of nuclear fire.
Lightning arched across the sky in a continuous cascade. Most of the ships we passed over appeared either dead in the water or without pilots. Their props churned ahead on collision courses with the waterfront or circled endlessly. A few ships turned mid-harbor in an effort to regain the safety of the open sea.
“Where are we, Captain?” I asked the pilot.
“We are coming up on Haneda International Airport on the left. How far into the city do you want to go?” he asked.
“We need to get as close as we can to the building the planes are attacking.”
“Roger.”
Jumbo jets lay cracked open and in flames on runways. Thick smoke billowed over the harbor. Other planes lined up like the cars on the freeway. Idle and motionless. Fire trucks and equipment stood silent in their service bays. Fires leapt into the sky from several terminal buildings.
Farther into the bay, container ships floated head-to-toe along the waterfront. Their containers were stacked five deep on their upper decks. The inner bay was in chaos. Large ships had already torn huge gashes in their hulls while colliding. More ships were inbound and neither slowed nor turned from their paths. Between the buildings a few pedestrians ran past car-choked intersections. Cars had driven up on sidewalks.
But most people appeared frozen. Unmoving. Just like the ones we had seen shortly after escaping from Shiomicko. Sitting calmly in cars or lying down in the roads or sitting against walls as if dazed.
Ships of all sizes filled offload berths. But the cranes were motionless, and nothing stirred on the docks.
The light turned to dusk. Long shadows danced among the flashes of light from the Wraith tower ahead.
“That tall building in Minato is your target, sir?” the pilot asked.
“Yes. That’s the one,” I said.
“We will set you down over on the right behind the World Trade Center. Hang on,” the pilot said.
A scintillating shield illuminated the enemy tower. Inbound missiles exploded before hitting the structure. At street level, dark smoke and fire mixed with the dusk, creating malevolent glows. Smaller bolts of lightning arched between the streets. A car’s fuel tank ignited, sending flaming debris over the street. People hit by the lightning exploded. Green toroids of plasma streamed through the sky.
“Odin’s Balls. There’s a lot of carnage, Jim,” Sven said.
Jim nodded grimly. “Those are the same spheres we saw in Aogashima.”
“We know how to handle those. Slice and dice,” Kane said.
“What about the plasma tanks?” I tried to keep the fear out of my voice.
“Those aren’t so easy!” Kane said.
I decided to just hold onto my seat and try not to vomit as the chopper tilted sharply one way then the other, angling us in behind several buildings. We were out of sight of the advancing lightning spheres. Turbulence buffed the chopper as the anti-aircraft guns got louder.
# # #
Major General Boric Merzopov – Commander Wraith HQ
Boric smiled as he watched the jagged lightning streak across the skies. Each one was followed by a crack-boom of thunder. His medal-adorned breast clinked as he turned from the window.
“Juri. Deploy more spheres. Have those dull-headed directors approved my plan?” he snarled.
“Yes, General. The order for immediate launch of two TOPOL-M ballistic missiles from the captured Russian launchers has been issued. Target one Guam, target two Pearl Harbor, sir,” the general’s aide, Captain Juri Povolovic, replied. He stood at attention before the general.
“And the yield?”
“Eight hundred kilotons each, sir.”
“Complete annihilation. The capitalist Americans will retaliate against the Russians. We will regain the initiative in this war, Yuri!” Boric smiled jubilantly.
“Yes, General.”
“Tell the tank commanders to follow the spheres out and secure the streets around our building. Have the spheres clear a further quarter mile out. Kill anyone on the streets. We must capture the inner city. Has Colonel Li arrived yet?”
“He waits outside, General. Should I send him in?”
“Yes. That arrogant fool allowed the Americans to escape from Shiomicko. Any more failure and he must be punished. Permanently,” Boric said.
The door opened and a wiry Asian man with a long, white beard slipped into the room. Something about the way he moved disturbed Boric. It wasn’t natural. Boric fought back doubt as he returned Colonel Li’s salute.
“Report,” Boric barked. He tried to stare down the calm colonel.
“Dear General, as you already know, the American Octagon team destroyed the Aogashima base. They have powerful weapons we have not seen before like high-power lasers well beyond the current technology available. They also flew onto the island in a sled powered by an equally unknown propulsion system. I suspect they will attack this building. Soon. I am confident we still have an edge in the psi. However, your defense systems may be inadequate.”
“Ridiculous, Colonel. We have an entire battalion of highly trained soldiers as well as advanced equipment of our own in this building. This team is what, ten men or less? Surely they do not pose a serious threat. Have a bit more confidence, Colonel. Your eagerness to give up worries me,” Boric said.
“I do not suggest giving up, rather, be prepared with an exit strategy should we be unable to contain them physically,” the colonel replied.
Breaking eye contact, the general turned with a slight tinkle of medals.
&
nbsp; “Let them come, Colonel. Report to the Psions’ level and take control of the psi-walker teams. Dismissed,” Boric said with his back to the colonel.
Boric heard the soft, irregular footfalls of the colonel as he left the room.
“Arrogant old fool. This building is impregnable,” Boric muttered to himself and watched as another U.S. jet fired a salvo of missiles. Then retreated as it dodged the lightning, anti-aircraft, and phalanx onslaught from the tower.
A small Kaa’zak-controlled F-3 gave chase to the retreating U.S. aircraft.
Unconcerned, Boric watched as the missiles dove towards the floor one story below. “Brimstone missiles - an antitank missile. Odd they would use that. Trying to bring the building down, I suppose,” he murmured to himself.
Then he smiled as the missiles broke through the shimmering lightning shield and exploded in midair, ripped apart by thousands of small marble-sized iron pellets from the active protection counter-measures rail guns.
The iron curtain and the lightning shield provided total protection for the building.
Boric nodded to himself smugly. “Let them come,” he said to himself. Li was an idiot.
A thought intruded. His neck began to spasm.
“We have destabilized the carrier reactors and crashed several jets into the carrier superstructure. The carrier’s effectiveness is neutralized.”
Boric hated the feeling of a Kaa’zak in his mind. From the thought tone he knew the thought came from the Kaa’zak known as Razor. He was a Coherant of the Kaa’zak, a thought channeler who could gather the thoughts of many beings into a single razor-sharp impulse of power.
“Several flying machines evaded our net and were last noted heading across the water. We will continue to destabilize the local bases and vessels.”
Boric managed a nervous mental thank you, and the thought was gone. Boric was not intimidated by any man, but the dread Kaa’zak were another story. He shuddered. There was something beyond evil about them. They sent out a vibe of unwavering malevolent death that flowed from the very core of the universe. It unnerved him. Walking over to a recessed bar, Boric poured himself a vodka straight, no ice. With renewed courage, the general strode over to his desk, lifted the phone to his ear, and pressed a button.
